Preschool

I'm 32 weeks & 5 days along now, only 7 weeks to go. :) I will have OB appointments every two weeks now, and after two of those I will go once a week. I've gained 15 pounds and overall I'm feeling well.

One of the strangest things about pregnancy is how different you can feel from day to day. And when you have a bad day (exhausted, huge, sore, cranky) you feel like that's how it's going to be from here on out, until the baby's born, and how on earth are you going to survive another two months of this!? But then the next day you'll feel great - lots of energy, and a look in the mirror will tell you the opposite of what you thought yesterday...why, your belly is positively petite! It's so weird...but you totally go back and forth, more toward the end of pregnancy, with the good days and bad days. And I know, the pictures appear to show a big, round belly, but I swear sometimes I gaze lovingly at my midsection and can't get over how compact it is. So what if my mind is playing tricks on me? It feels good.



I feel the baby moving all the time now. She is very active, as were Gage and Lila. I love to sit back on the couch in the late evenings and watch my belly undulate, watch lumps rise and fall, slide. It's amazing. Once in a while she moves so forcefully that I feel as though I'm thrown off-balance. Not that my balance is all that great to begin with these days....


Gage began preschool a week and a half ago. I was dreading the start...I really was. I was anxious and sad that my baby was going to be away from me, was going to be in a classroom where I could not watch over him, could not make sure that he's treated the way I need him to be treated. Luckily the transition has been much easier than I feared. He's enjoying preschool and we have no problems during drop-off. He marches right into his little classroom and the first thing he does, every day, is go to the "Helping Hands" wall to see what his job will be for the afternoon. His favorite so far: Bell Ringer. I understand. Who doesn't love to ring a bell?



Lila has been the surprise problem with drop-off. I had no idea that she would be as affected as she is, but every day she cries after we leave Gage's school. Every day she wails on the drive home, "I miss my Gagey! I miss my big brudder!" Earlier this week she told me that if she says "...I miss my Gager, I need my Gager he will come home to me." Poor little one.



Another preschool surprise is that I am enjoying the free time it provides to me. I was so nervous about the thought of Gage being gone that I really didn't stop to think about what my afternoons (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday from 12:30 until 3:00) would be like. I guess I imagined myself biting my nails while watching the clock. This is what's it's been like: We get home, I tuck Lila in for a nap. Two hours of silence (although I do watch the clock more than strictly necessary). I wake Lila up and we go to pick up Gage. It's crazy what those two hours of solitude have done for my well-being. It's been pleasant to have that time to myself...although short-lived, since Josie will be here before we know it.

Gage is already showing off his new knowledge...he reminds Mike to "Turn off the lights when you leave a room. It's good for the enbironment." And yesterday he rattled off the days of the week to me with no hesitation. He's picked up some of the Pledge of Allegiance and two nursery rhymes: Twinkle, Twinkle and Hey Diddle, Diddle.

I have to laugh when he recites Hey Diddle, Diddle because (despite the many times I attempted to correct him) he always says:

Hey Diddle, Diddle
The cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the moon
The little dog laughed with excitement
And the dish ran away with the spoon.

I love that - laughed with excitement. And then he chuckles in a grown-up way and explains: "It's funny 'cause dishes can't run."

Whereas cows can *totally* jump over the moon.


I recently picked up a crafty toy for the kids, called "Bendaroos." It's a collection of colored sticks...like stiff string coated in wax...that the kids can make into jewelry or shapes or whatever. They spotted the Bendaroos in a store the other day and Gage recognized them from a commercial. He asked if we could buy it and I said No, but a salesman heard me and said "We have some of those in clearance - the boxes were crushed a little, but the toys are all there." Crushed boxes? I'm there! So we bought them after all, and the kids are having a blast using them. What's funny is that Gage calls them "Fingaroos" and Lila calls them "Kangaroos" and I stubbornly refer to them by their given name. It's like "Who's on First" when they want to get out the Bendaroos.


Gage has entered a new stage of reliability recently...it's mature and disarming. For his whole life thus far when he's insisted on something that doesn't sound right I can correct him, with almost 100% accuracy. Lately he's been saying things that don't sound right and when I go to correct him he quietly and politely insists that he's right. And then he is right.

Case in point: yesterday afternoon Lila wanted to watch "Charlie and Lola" (a Disney cartoon, a favorite in our house). She pushed Play on the DVD player (who knew she could do *that*?) and the theme music began to play.

Gage: "It's not on. Lila wants to watch Charlie and Lola and it's not on."
Me (in the dining room, where I can hear the TV but not see it): "It's on. I can hear it."
Gage (not paying any attention to the TV): "No, it's not on."
Me: "Gage, I can hear it."
Gage: "But it's not on."
Me: "I want you to come look at the TV so that you can see it's on."
Gage: "All right, but I want you to come too, so you can see that it's not."
Me (slightly put out by this, and irritated at having to stand up for nothing [yesterday was a Bad Day and I felt awful]): "Fine."

We meet in front of the TV. There's a moment of silence.

Me: "Oh. It's not on."

The DVD player was on, the speakers were on. The TV...was not.

Me: "You were right."

Gage: Does not feel the need to rub it in - does not even say 'I told you so.' Gage is a good kid. And maybe I ought to give him the benefit of the doubt once in a while.

He's been right an awful lot lately. And patient...and kind.


There's got to be a lesson in there somewhere.

Next Time I Won't Sing With You

I had another OB appointment last week, as well as the Glucose test, which is done between 26 & 28 weeks. The Glucose test involves drinking a very sugary orange-flavored liquid and waiting around for an hour, after which there is a bloodtest. The test measures how you metabolize the sugar, to check whether you're in danger of gestational diabetes. I passed the test with flying colors. Good news for this candy-loving mama. (I actually talked Mike into buying for me a case of candy cigarettes two weeks ago. That's 24 packs. They're delicious.)

I am now 28 weeks along, and have gained another 4 pounds, bringing my total weight gain up to 10 pounds so far. With all three pregnancies I didn't gain at all until after 20 weeks, and then I gained a normal amount (about 35 pounds) in the last half of the pregnancy. Looks like this time will be the same way. It's just weird to look at my big, big belly and think I've only gained 10 pounds. (...and to think that there's more to come.)

My weekly dinner of homemade buffalo chicken wings (fried, of course) will surely help the weight pack on. It's for you, baby. For you.

Oh, and the lemon angelfood cake with lemon glaze, pictured here atop my belly shelf, which Mike never ceases to find amusing:



The kids are well. Lila has been making us all laugh with her own version of the ABC song. She does the ABCs themselves pretty well, only missing a couple of letters here and there. At the end she sings:

Now I know my ABCs.
Next time I won't sing with you.

Cracks us up every time.

Gage is getting ready to start preschool in three weeks. (Mama is certainly NOT ready to have her little boy start preschool in three weeks.) He's excited about it, about carrying a bookbag and writing his name and snacktime. I know it's a good school and an essential part of growing up, but I want to keep my little boy home with me for longer.

Just...longer.

Our garden is giving us lots of deeply red tomatoes, lots of leafy, aromatic basil. We've been eating some combination of the two mostly every day - this is the best part about August, I think. Last week I made a tomato-basil side with garlic and black pepper, all layered over fresh mozzarella with a crumbly butter-rich tart base. It was fantastic, a sure repeat dish.

And, because I'm a dork, I took a picture of it. I often take pictures of food. I like to capture my creations on film, which is why my computer is loaded with pictures of my kids and pictures of dinner.

I'll upload that one this evening so you can see it, too.

In the meantime, here are the kids during our recent week-long beach vacation. I have since cut Gage's hair a bit, sigh.

Some Random

- I went to the OB today and I finally gained some weight! Six pounds in the last month...bringing my total weight gain so far to six pounds. I'm almost 24 weeks along now, so I'm happy to be gaining. I was getting sick every day during months three and four, and only in the last three weeks or so has that stopped. I feel stronger and more energetic lately, too.



- We are fairly certain that we will name the baby Josephine. When I told the kids this I said "I think that I'll call her Josie. What about you?" Gage piped up immediately: "Josephine Jellybean!" So she already has a couple of nicknames, all darling. She is measuring right on, as is my belly.

- Last night Mike took the kids to Wawa after Parkettes, as he often does. Gage picked out a treat for me, a package of Twinkies. I was surprised that Mike didn't steer him toward something else, because Twinkies? Not really my kind of snack. So suffice it to say they were still in their package today. Gage asked me why I didn't eat them and I said, "Oh, I'm not hungry. How about you and Lila each eat one?" He agreed, and I handed them out. (This marks their first packaged cake experience.)

They each took one bite and put their Twinkies down. Lila swallowed her bite and went about her business, leaving her Twinkie on the table. Gage chewed his bite, made a horrible face, and ran to the trash to spit it out. I heard him call from the kitchen: "I found that cake to be much too sweet!" I laughed and happily threw away the Twinkies. They tried them - it's more than fine with me if they don't like them.

- Gage turns four tomorrow. Four! He is excited for his birthday, but in his ever-empathetic way he made a card and wrapped a present for me so that I would not be left out of the festivities. He is storing both card and gift safely in his desk until his big day.

Here he is posing with his pizza, one that he made entirely with his own hands - from patting the dough into a big round to putting on the sauce and toppings. He and Lila love to help in the kitchen and they love to eat what they create. Gage was very proud of himself for this pizza, as was I.



- Lila is still convinced that she has a baby in her belly, and she has named it Judith. (Judith is Lila's new cousin's name - my oldest sister Sarah gave birth to her third child just over a month ago.) When you ask Lila about her baby she points very specifically to her bellybutton and says "See?"

Lately 'Baby Judith' has been apparently active...Lila will put her hand on her belly and say "Baby Judif kickin'!" It's too funny - a perfect imitation of her mommy.

Two Quick Laughs

Since Gage was a baby we've played the wildly popular 'Stinky Feet Game.' What's involved: Sniffing one of the kids' feet, making a face and saying, "Ooh, those are some stinky feet. What were you walking in?" The kids love it - they offer up the other foot and enthusiastically say "This one's even stinkier!"

Lila was flailing on the couch the other day - I was sitting, she was tumbling over me - and I caught one of her feet in my hand. I sniffed it, gave the obligatory snort of disgust and said "Ooh, those are some stinky feet!" Lila pulled away, glared at me and said with careful enunciation:

"My feet are clean and soft. Actually, they're fine."

She turned away with an indignant huff.

Well!

I guess she told me!



Yesterday I was pushing Gage on the swingset; on the one meant for two kids...the swing that has handles and a place to put his feet, and the kids sit back-to-back. I was pushing him pretty high and he slipped his feet off the bar. I stopped the swing quickly and asked if he was all right.

Gage: "Yeah. Can you push me again?"
Me: "I thought you were going to fall."
Gage: "Nope. I like to do that."

So I push him again and again he slips his feet off the bar. After the third time I said, "That makes me so nervous. Why are you doing that?"

And I swear this is exactly how he responded.

He looked at me slyly and grinned. "I like to live on the edge."

Hi, Baby.

You're an awesome chick already.

Manners Police

For a long time now Gage has had high standards for manners - for himself as well as for others. It cracks me up that such a little kid wants things so orderly, but that's how he's always been. I have a video of Gage at maybe 18 months putting his milk cup on a coaster on the coffee table, turning to leave, turning back and pushing the cup to exactly the middle of the coaster. Only when it was perfect was he satisfied.

Tonight he couldn't sleep and he heard me puttering around in the kitchen, making a blueberry coffee cake. He asked to come help me and it was one of those days when the right thing to do is say Yes. So he helped me sprinkle blueberries on the top of the cake, then cinnamon and sugar. After we put the cake in the oven we sat on the couch to share the last 3/4 cup of blueberries between us.

Gage likes the sweet ones, and I like the sour ones. We spent a good ten minutes snuggled together on the couch...he'd take a little bite of each blueberry. "Sweet" ones were popped into Gage's mouth and he poked the "Sour" ones into my mouth. While he was busily sorting through them I brushed his bangs away from his eyes, told him that I miss seeing his eyes because his hair is getting so long.

"I like it long," he said. "Sour." I accepted the blueberry from him.
"I know you do now," I said. "But you might change your mind."
"No I won't," he murmured in a sing-song voice. He took another little rabbit bite from a berry. "Sweet," he smiled. "I'm really good at this," he observed unselfconsciously. The next one was sour. He watched me eat it, and the Manners Police descended.

"Um, excuse me," Gage said.
"Yes?"
"You were chewing that with your mouth open a little bit. I could see a peek of it."
"Oh, goodness," I said. "I'm sorry for my bad manners."
"It's all right," Gage smiled supportively. "Everybody makes mistakes." He popped another blueberry into my mouth. He kept his eyes on me and pressed his own lips together, silently reminding me how to chew. I chewed obviously and with tight lips. "Good," he smiled. "Now you're doing a great job."

It makes me laugh that he's so parental at these moments. We are almost always happily secure in our roles. He and Lila know they're the children, and Mike and I know we're the parents. There's no doubt about that. But Gage won't hesitate to turn a teaching moment around in your face if you seem to need it.

He's such a sweet kid, and so empathetic. But if you dare to put your feet on the table in my house be prepared for a stern talking-to from my nearly-four-year-old.

And talk with your mouth full if you want. But do it at your own risk.

Homemade Perfume

Gage doesn't nap anymore, and hasn't for at least a year. I wish he would, but he just doesn't require much sleep and he never has. Even at Lila's age he was a 12-hour a day guy; 11 hours at night and a 1-hour nap. These days he sleeps for 10-11 hours at night and that's all. Some days he seems to really need the nap, and some days he falls asleep in the car. But the most I can get out of him is the rare and often-interrupted 'rest.' When he 'rests' he plays by himself, quietly, in his room while Lila naps and I decompress by myself. Every five minutes or so he pops his head out of his bedroom, calling "Can I come down now?" That's my cue to call back "NO!"

Anyway. And as a point of interest: Lila sleeps for about 15 hours a day. No joke. 13 hours at night and a regular 2-hour nap every afternoon. She takes after her Mama that way.

So a few days ago Gage was 'resting' in his room and I was resting on the couch. He was quiet for several minutes (which, in retrospect, should have been my first clue). The next time he appeared at the top of the stairs, asking to come down, I turned to tell him "No" and saw that he was holding a plastic bowl with both hands.

"Um. What's that?" I asked. "I made you a gift," Gage said happily. He carefully carried the bowl down the stairs to me and presented it with a big smile. "It's perfume. Doesn't it smell wonderful?"

I peered into the bowl...it was significantly full of murky-looking colorless water, with a few bubbles popping on the surface. "Wow," I said. I sniffed. The sickeningly sweet, thick soapy smell turned my stomach - no woman in her first trimester should be made to smell homemde perfume.

"Wow," I repeated. I forced a smile and nodded my head. "Wonderful."

"It's a gift," Gage said again. He held the bowl closer to me. I pulled back an equal distance, then made myself accept the bowl with what I can only hope was a gracious expression (what part of clenched teeth and tearing eyes doesn't indicate gratuity?).

"Thanks," I said. As soon as he was distracted I went upstairs to see what he'd gotten into. Apparently my 'gift' was comprised mostly of home fragrance oil (sans reeds), foaming hand soap and water, with approximately 15 damp paper bathroom cups somehow having been involved.

Now. I love homemade gifts as much as the next person, especially gifts from my kid. But I think I need to draw the line at perfume. Maybe perfume is just something you ought to leave to the professionals. After a long and gentle conversation Gage reluctantly agreed.



Lila is on day three of a particularly independent streak. She has been in a terrible mood, and much more difficult than usual. I love her to bits, but she's been working my nerves like you wouldn't believe. She's usually pretty easy-going, which makes the recent naughtiness that much more surprising. But...naughty as she is, she still manages to be as cute as a darn button.

This evening I was driving home with the kids in the car. We'd gone to the health food store (at Gage's request. This is what he said: "I want to go to that store. The one where we sometimes go that's not Wegmans. With the peanut things. But not Christmas." After a moment of confusion and several stores mentioned: "Do you mean Target?" "No." I said, "The health food store!" "Yes!" But I still don't get the 'But not Christmas' part of it.) and then I had a couple of errands to do. Five minutes from home Lila started screaming. Like, just out of boredom. But that drives me nuts, so I told her to stop.

Me: "Lila, that's too loud. Please lower your voice."
Lila: (screams)
Me: "Lila, stop screaming or you will go right to bed when we get home."
Lila: (screaming) "NO!" A pause while she takes a breath, preparing to scream again. "I NOT!"
Me: (stunned silence, trying not to laugh) "Oh yes you will..." (weakly) "Young lady."

I gathered myself and delivered the time-out, and she apologized very sweetly, but five minutes later she kicked me while I was putting her pajamas on and she went right back to bed, this time for the night.

I feel more prepared with Lila than I did with Gage - naturally, I guess. When Gage went through phases at this age (like this naughty phase Lila's going through) I always thought, "Oh, great. We had such a good thing going, and now this. Now this is what I have to deal with for the rest of his childhood." We'd battle constantly - he fighting for his naughty independence and me fighting to maintain the upper hand and, of course, a few days later everything would even out and he'd be back to his sweet self. Armed with this knowledge, Lila's phases, while still trying, don't force that same cloud of gloom to hang over me.

Nowadays I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I just need to keep clawing my way toward it.

Money, Money, Money

My two have been mischevious the past week or so, for sure. They've had Spring Fever, I think, and until this weekend didn't have much of a chance to get their energy out outside.

Gage has become very adept at slyly mooching money off my dad. Pop-pop has been giving Gage 'pay' when Gage helps him with a chore. At first this meant something substantial, like Gage cleaning up after a messy project or pulling weeds from the garden. Gage receives a dollar as his pay, and this thrills him. Sometimes we go to the local old-schooly drug store, where they have the best selection of candy, and Gage gets to choose something right away. I don't mind this one bit, because he is learning so much through these transfers...what he can afford for a dollar, how to wait in line and receive change, all of it.

Plus he is SO careful to get something for Lila as well as for himself. The first time he spent his pay it was around Halloween and he had his eye on a Reese's Peanut Butter Jack O'Lantern. I told him that was fine, he could buy it. It was $.75. He asked if he could buy two and I said no, he couldn't afford it. He frowned for only a moment, put the Jack O'Lantern back and picked out a regular 2-pack of Peanut Butter Cups. "How about this?" he asked. "Yes," I said, "You can afford that."

"That's what I want, then. One for me, one for Yi-yah."

I don't need to tell you that my heart nearly broke. He has always been careful to have enough candy to share with his beloved baby sister, and I never fail to warm at his generous spirit.

Anyway, back to the story. So lately Gage has been getting away with doing less and less work yet still expecting - and receiving - pay. He'll ask Grandma if he can help her make dinner. She'll say "Sure" and hand him a pile of mushrooms to drop in a soup pot. Gage will happily comply and cheerfully crow, "Now I get pay!"

Or he'll hand my dad a screwdriver when he's working in the garage and practically leave his hand outstretched, ready to receive his dollar. And my dad never fails to deliver.

We save most of the dollars (he gets maybe 2 a week) but the odd trip to the candy store and the carefully folded bill in his tiny pocket is enough to keep Gage going.


All this learning about money is great, and Lila has been picking up on it, too. She doesn't earn pay yet (you have to be three to make wages in this family - we don't want to risk any child labor issues by hiring a one- or two-year-old) but she does get quarters from Pop-pop, which she dutifully drops in her owl-shaped piggy bank.

A week ago Mike was washing my car for me, with the kids' help, while I was away for the afternoon. We bought a new 2008 Mazda 5 in February, our first-ever new car. I love it and I'm happy as can be - it's a sweet ride. It came with all sorts of features that I wouldn't have requested had they not been standard, but I'm certainly happy to have them. One such feature is an in-dash 6-CD changer.

While Mike was scrubbing the tires that afternoon Gage asked to climb into the car. Mike didn't see why not, and opened up the door. Gage and Lila both scrambled inside and pretended to drive for no more than a minute before Mike peeked in at them. What he saw was Lila happily poking quarter after quarter into said brand new in-dash 6-CD changer.

Mike shouted and delivered a time-out and panicked and worried and spent hours taking the CD changer out of the dashboard and fishing all the quarters out (about a dozen total). Thankfully he was able to restore it to its original beauty.

When asked about this transgression all Lila did was smile and say "Piggy bank!"



I have no idea where they get this fascination with money. No idea at all.

Incidentally, here I am with my arm around my money, a year and a half ago:



But I have no idea where they get it.

Thinking on Their Feet

There are times when the kids don't know the word for something, so they make up a phrase that they figure best suits the definition. I love when they do it, because I totally still do the same thing. I remember one such instance that still makes me laugh...I couldn't think of the word 'antler' and sputtered out "Ear...horn...." instead.I was, like, 20 at the time. Everyone is at a loss for words sometimes, and I consider it a wonderful example of how imperfect we all are. ;)

So two days ago we were riding in the car and Gage was looking out the window. He spotted a yard that had a couple of pinwheels spinning in the breeze. He smiled and said, "Look! That house has two...(silence while he's thinking)...wind...propellers."

Wind propellers! What a great description!

During another car ride this week Lila was snuggling a stuffed puppy and barking softly, "Woof, woof." She was so happy when I said "I think I hear a doggie in the car!" that I couldn't help but carry on the joke.

Me: "I hope I hear a kitten soon."
Lila: "Meow!"
Me: "Oh, I did hear a kitten! I hope I hear a cow."
Lila: "Moo!"
Me: "Great! Now how about an owl?"
Lila: Silence. Scanning her brain for what noise an owl makes. Finally, taking on a deep parody-voice: "Hello, Lila!"

So...just so you know...that's what an owl says. It says "Heyyo, Yi-yah" in a comical toddler baritone.



We're entering Birthday Season. My kids, as well as almost all of their cousins, have birthdays between May and August. It will be a whirlwind of cake and presents, and Gage is very excited to begin partying. We made cookies on Tuesday that Gage insisted were "For Lila's Birthday party" although we have another five weeks to go. I'm so happy to have warm weather and good times to look forward to.



I'm feeling well. Surprisingly well, better than I did with either of the other two pregnancies. I am definitely larger than I was for those, but that comes with the territory. As soon as I have a recognizable 'bump' I'll be sure to post pics. In the meantime I'm craving fresh fruits and veggies, lots of avocado, and of course seltzer and milk.

Lila has decided that she also has a baby in her belly, and her baby's name will be 'Lila.' When I suggested that it might get confusing she changed her mind, choosing the name 'Baby' instead. Ahhh, the creativity my kids have when it comes to names. We have the afore-mentioned stuffed dog, who is named 'Puppy' and a stuffed duck named 'Ducky.'

My baby, on the other hand, they want to name 'Yellow Tree.' It was a compromise; Lila chose 'Yellow' and Gage (who, incidentally, was looking out the window at the time), chose 'Tree.'

I can see it now. "Meet my children: Gage, Lila and Yellow Tree."

And Another On the Way

We're expecting again (!!!). I'm nine weeks pregnant and we're due in early / mid November. We're really excited. Nervous about how we'll handle three kids aged four and under, but excited.

Both Gage and Lila want a baby girl ('baby guh-whirl'). I think it's a boy. I have an appointment in a week and a half for my first ultrasound, and we'll be happy to see how big the baby is and watch the sweet swishing heartbeat.

Today Gage asked me how the baby's going to come out. He's asked me this a couple of times before, and I've gotten away with saying "My body will let me know when it's time. I'll call the doctor and he'll meet me at the hospital. The doctor will help me get the baby out." Short and sweet, right? Well, today he wanted more information. He said, "Will the doctor use a knife?" I had to get more specific. I had to say the V word.

Gage: "Where's your bagina?"
Me: "It's in my private area. Do you remember where that is?"
Gage, puzzled, points to his left bicep with a curious look on his face.
Me: "No. Um. No, that's not it."
Gage shrugs his shoulders, unconcerned. I don't know what's worse, that he considers his arm his most private body part, or that he thinks my baby will come out of my shoulder.

Either way...I see we have more work to do.