happy...

This is how happy I feel about getting induced on Friday. 3 more days! There is an end in sight. I really WON'T be pregnant forever. Can't wait to meet this baby girl, to be able to bend at the waist, to have a lap back for little Molly.

"Riding a bike is just like pushing out babies, huh?"

the good kind...

I am a cry baby. I cry a lot. I like it. Sometimes. I think I may have gotten the tendancy from my mom. She is a serious cryer. I can remember watching TV with her, or sitting through a musical number in church and glancing over to see if she was crying. Then I would keep watching her. My kids now do the same thing to me. I think sometimes they understand why I am teary, but other times it makes no sense at all.

Like last night at their choir concert. I would love to post a clip of their show, but I don't feel comfortable plastering the name of their school on my blog. They have been going to choir practice every Tuesday and Thursday morning at 7:30. It's been a struggle. We used to get them there at least 10 minutes early, before the doors were even open. Now they are scrambling out the door with 30 seconds to spare. Anyhow, the choir is for 4th-6th graders, unless there is an older sibling participating. Then the younger ones can too. Mrs. Thibault (the girls old kindy teacher) is the director. I love her more than I can say. She is kind, loving, affectionate, and she loves my kids. Anyhow, they had a show yesterday afternoon and in the evening. I went to both and cried at both. Not the ugly cry, just teary enough that I had to wipe my eyes. They were harmonizing. It was beautiful to me. I love having my kids be a part of something like that. I am proud of them. Especially Alex who has overcome quite a fear of performing in front of people. Anyhow, they thought it was crazy that I teared up. My niece did too. Oh well, that's how I roll.

Other things that get to me:

The latest Gray's Anatomy commercials
LDS church commercials
Little House
Someone winning big on The Price is Right
Sports - when the underdog comes out on top
The Biggest Loser finale
The Star Spangled Banner

You'll notice that most of these involve music in some way. It must be that. Although, I can cry when there isn't any. If I see someone else tearing up, I do too. A co-dependent cryer I guess. This saturday I get to go through the temple with one of my dearest friends. I can only imagine the tears.

*19 days until my due date! I'm hoping to have this little girl in a week and 1/2. Think she'll cooperate?

Can I seriously do 5?

*image by Jonathan Canlas

Here is what I'm thinking about today. Yesterday was rough with my kids. I was tired and irritable, so I'm sure you can guess how the day went. Actually I was fine for most of the day...it was the evening that got difficult. I'm feeling some anxiety about our new arrival. So...last night for FHE we went stroller shopping. We found one right away, then went to Toys R Us and bought a cheapo plastic swimming pool. Poor Emily really wanted one they could actually move around in, but I chose $15 instead of $100+. I was so happy leaving those stores, completeing 2 things on my to-do list. But, the kids were LOUD in the car. They just wouldn't quiet down, and I could feel my mood slipping. I actually said the "s" word to the twins...shut-up. I couldn't handle the noise. I felt close to a nervous breakdown. Isn't that ridiculous? I told Dave I needed them to be in bed, away from me. I HATE feeling like that. I hate being angry with them. Frustrated. Short tempered. Guilty. Once we were home, getting them to bed, I just sat. Like a bump on the couch. A bump with ZERO patience. As soon as they had kissed their mean mom and were in bed, I was sorry. Sorry that I hadn't calmed myself before getting angry. Sorry that I hadn't balanced my time better during the day. Sorry that they may not have gotton all they needed from me, their mom.

There are days where it seems that all your kids say is "Mom! Mom! MOM!". You don't have enough ears or patience to listen to everything they need to say. Sometimes they want to share a joke. Maybe tattle on someone. Show me a scratch on their leg. I find myself trying to acknowledge each of them, but end up saying, "Yeah. Uh-huh. I'm sorry sweetie." They KNOW I didn't really hear them. They are sensitive to that. I told Dave this morning that if I was at a party, and Michelle, Melissa, Jamie and Sharene were all tring to talk to me at the same time, I would give them all the attention I thought they deserved. I would hear them all. I would make SURE they all knew I was listening. Why don't I have the energy to do that with my kids? I do sometimes, but not all the time. I guess I just get tired. That's a good enough excuse for me, but I don't know if they understand.

Lizzy is sort of tough for me right now. She is SO sweet and tender, and SO willing to take the back seat to the other kids. But sometimes she needs the front seat. She needs to be validated, cuddled, reassured. Yesterday, the kids spent a lot of time outside. They played in the sprinklers, sat on beach towels in the drive-way, and got stung my mosquitos and wasps...at least Lizzy did. Bugs like her. My dad thinks it must have something to do with her blood...more O2 in it or something. The thing is...she gets welts within minutes of being bitten. The size of quarters, red, swollen. And she cries. She knows they will swell up, she know she needs medicine, so she cries. Actually, she howls. She is really, really intense when she is hurt, or thinks she is. It makes me mad. I want her to breathe, to calm down. In reality, I'm sure there is a reason she is so dramatic. She is craving something, and most likely, it's my attention. Instead of getting frustrated, I need to hug her and rock her and tell her how sorry I am that she got a bug bite, or tore a fingernail, or scratched her knee.

So I lay in bed last night, talking Dave's ear off. Talking about how I need to be more attentive to them, more patient with them. It's like a viscious cycle. I feel completely on top of things as a mom, then have a day or 2 where I feel like I am failing. I guess the feelings of failure cause me to rely on the Lord, to apologize to my children, to re-prioritize. Not all bad, right?

All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel Mother.

Abraham Lincoln and Amy Schofield

love you...

As I was lying in my bed yesterday morning, listening as the kids rushed out the door to school, I couldn't help but laugh. LOTS of good-bye's going on. Bye Alex, I love you. Love you Mom. Bye Molly, I love you. I love you Lizzy. See you later Emily, I love you. Love you Daddy. It sounded a lot like the Walton's. It made me so happy. I love mornings like this where things aren't quite as hectic, where we have the time to say I love you.

There was never a shortage of "I love you"s when I was growing up. I heard it a lot. I felt it a lot. My parents told me all the time. I think it's such an important thing to hear. It boosts your confidence. It reminds you of what is most important in your life. Kids NEED to hear it. They need to know. I've heard so many stories of kids who grew up never really knowing for sure, because they never heard those 3 words. Those 3 words that are SO easy to say. Try saying them...it's a piece of cake. I think even if you grew up without hearing them, you can make a change and say it. Say it to your kids, to your sweetheart, to your friends. It feels great.

us today...

Molly in her Princess Mulan dress,

and me with hopefully less than 4 weeks to go. :)