Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving, all!
We had a relaxing, enjoyable day. Although I enjoy hosting Thanksgiving, the size of my house prohibits me from doing so. Instead, we went to my sister, Elizabeth's large house to celebrate. At one point during the day, I realized how relaxing it is to go somewhere else for holidays. I didn't have to clean my house, get up early to put the turkey in, find enough dishes and places at the table for everyone, or deal with the mess when everybody leaves.

I have some news to share. On Tuesday, Hubby and I went for my first ultrasound at 18 weeks gestation. It was really neat to see my baby for the first time. We asked the ultrasound technician if it was a boy or a girl and she asked us what we thought it was. I told her that Princess had assured me it was a boy. As the tech moved the wand to verify, we could very obviously see that Princess was correct! I made sure the tech printed us a picture of the "proof" to embarrass the poor boy with when he gets older.

To be honest though, I was hoping for a girl. I had several reasons for this, the top one being that Hubby thinks that with one of each, we're done having kids. Ummmm, I'm not done yet. I'm not ready for this to be my last pregnancy, my last baby, my youngest child. I also was hoping for a girl because I was kind of looking forward to getting Princess's baby clothes back out and dressing the two alike for special occasions. Having a sister close in age to me, I wanted to give that experience (good and bad) to Princess. I'm really not sure what to do with a boy. Having a boy means buying new clothes, bibs, and accessories. It means a whole new set of toys (and I've already run out of space!) and it means I'm going to be mother to a son. I'm all girl. I'm all about the frills, baby dolls, abundance of pink, and everything else that means girls. A boy is strange territory to me. When my mother found out what I was having, she thought about it a while and then confessed that she really can't see me with a boy. In about 5 months though, that's what's going to happen. But I know that I will learn as I go along just as I did with Princess and the minute they lay my baby boy in my arms, I will fall so madly in love with him that I can't imagine not having him there.

When Hubby and I found out that we're having a boy, we celebrated by buying a blue minivan. We got a fairly decent price on a Honda Odyssey and so came home with ultrasound pictures and a new vehicle. I know that we don't technically need a minivan yet since we'll only have two kids, but my sister and I go a lot of places together. With two carseats in the back of the car, it gets too crowded to buy a lot of groceries (we live 45 minutes from the nearest "big" city so we stock up when we go.) Since she and I are both expecting baby #2 in April, a minivan was a must. Also, because Hubby and I take so many LONG trips (6+ hours one way), a dvd system in the vehicle is a huge plus for us.

Anyways, it's 9 pm and it's been a long day. Signing off.

You Have It So Easy!

It was Sunday morning before church. Hubby was relaxing on the couch with the tv remote having already showered, shaved, and put on the suit and tie I'd picked out for him. I was simultaneously packing the diaper bag, picking out a dress for Princess and cutting up a pear for her breakfast. As I chased my squealing daugher with her ruffled fuschia dress and a pair of tights, I glanced enviously at Hubby lounging on the couch with not a thing to do, but watch tv. After corraling Princess and pinning her down long enough to wrestle the dress over her head, I made it a point to stop in the living room and give an exaggerated sigh. Hubby obliviously channel surfed so I decided to use a more direct method of conveying my frustration.
With a look of confusion, Hubby tore his eyes off the tv long enough to glance at me, "What'd you kick me for?" he asked.
"Because I'm doing everything as usual and you're just sitting there not lifting a finger to help me!"
"If you want my help, just ask!"
I instructed him to feed Princess her breakfast while I attempted to find a skirt and shirt for myself that matched and was not wrinkled.
Somehow I managed to get dressed and finish packing the diaper bag while answering 872 questions from Hubby about how to feed Princess breakfast. After she was done with breakfast, Hubby went back to the tv while I cleaned up the mess the two of them had made in the kitchen.
On the car ride to church, I thought about how nice it must be to be a dad.
Hubby didn't have to go through nine months of pregnancy, give birth or struggle with the first painful months of nursing. He didn't have to discipline and entertain a toddler all day, rock a sick child all night long, or try to figure out what 4 foods Princess currently accepted as edible.
As my resentment grew, I happened to glance in the backseat where Princess sat strapped into her carseat. Then I realized something. Hubby didn't get to experience the joy and wonder of new life growing within for nine months. He didn't get to go through the life changing experience of giving birth to that new life or gaze into the adoring eyes of a tiny baby as she filled her tummy with warm milk that he provided. He didn't get to spend all day with a toddler who was constantly learning new things and being incredibly cute about it. He didn't get to comfort that toddler when she didn't feel good and spend time just holding her in his arms. What Hubby got to do was go to work all day and come home to listen to me tell him about all the adorable things she'd done that day. He didn't get to spend much time with her because of his work and had to ask me to interpret most of what she said because he wasn't around her enough to know.
Even though at times it can be stressful and it's the hardest job I have ever and will ever do, I decided right then that I would much rather be a mom.

Unsolicited Advice:
To make it easier in the morning, I (sometimes) will pick out clothes the night before and pack the diaper bag. I've found it's easier to pack the diaper bag when I remember to fill it back up with diapers and wipes whenever it's running low instead of waiting until right before I have to be somewhere.

Fingerprints

I wrote this poem when Princess was 7 months old. She was obsessed with my glasses at that time and, much to Hubby's delight, was constantly touching them with her slobbery sticky little fingers.
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You can read an updated version of this post here on my new blog, Sunshine and Spoons! I hope to see you there!