Short edition of "Our Latest"

Davis: Harry Potter. He has watched the Prisoner of Azkaban and The Chamber of Secrets at least 20 times (I am NOT kidding). He carries around the portable DVD player and when things get slow around the house, I find him in some corner or bed in the house watching (he also watches the show with headphones on when the rest of the family has settled down for another movie). He's shown so much interest, I started reading the first book aloud to him at night (though he knows the plot line already and corrects me if there are any discrepancies between book and movie).

Eliza: Barbies and reading out loud to Roger. I am grateful someone in the house is bringing books to little Rogie. I feel like whenever I sit down to read to him he starts jumping on my huge belly and fidgeting in whatever lap I have left--I am not in the mood to tolerate this right now!

D: Work, work, work. At the hospital mostly, but the never-ending yard project we have embarked upon (post to follow--it is pretty awesome!).

Last week when D came home from the store he was thrilled to present the kids with "Superman Returns." He was so excited because it was only $9.99, and "The scene where Superman saves the airplane is AWESOME!" I will decline to comment on the expedience of this purchase.

Roger: Following a diaper change, I lifted Roger above my head. He quickly responded to the maneuver, "I, Hupah-man" (I, Superman).

This total cuteness about made D's movie purchase worth the $9.99.

Smackdown

I can't decide which treat I could live less without,

this:

(Hostess Crumb Doughnuts)

versus

This:

(Lays Salt and Vinegar Potato Chips)

I'm sure the attendants at the gas station would attest that I have been living off of both items and the cup of ice that I show up for nearly every day.

I am slowly losing my mind--and my body isn't my own either

Right now, my back yard is torn up--no grass, all mud (and I will be paying someone A LOT of money to do this damage--here's hoping the clean-up and building get done quickly). There is a gigantic pile of sludgy-swampy water that is trapped at the base of my driveway because it can't drain away due to a huge pile of dirt on the road. Did I mention this water smells like feces? Yep, it does.

Inside my house, the baby room is covered in bins full of baby items-- clothes, diapers, burp cloths, bottles, car seats, and toys. I think this baby has more possessions than I do and he hasn't even been man enough to show his face. . . . .

It is 7:43 P.M. D thought that he would be home around noon today because there were no surgeries scheduled. . . . . Then, there were 2 add-ons, STARTING at 3:00 P.M. He has in-house call tomorrow and Sunday. Maybe I'll talk to him in between snooze sessions on Saturday. Maybe.

I have 2 1/2 weeks until my due date. I am physically in fine condition-no high blood pressure, so swollen ankles(yet), no pre-term labor- can't complain, for a pregnant lady. Still, I am pregnant and well, to be honest, I just want my body back.

I think I am feeling a little stressed. Just a little.

By now,

You might expect that I was going for a world record:

You see, I can't remember the last time I mopped my dining nook. There is milk, dirt, and food fragments caked under the table. Oh, if I only had the will to bend over. . . I figure it's been so long, I might as well wait another month till after my due date, right?

Who is your Hero?

So the last month or so, we've made a lot of changes here to get ready for our new arrival. Eliza and Davis have officially split up rooms and Roger is down with Davis now. I've been changing color schemes and decor as follows.

Last month as I was shopping for bedding for the boys, I got this idea that it would be really cool to have a Superhero room--I remembered seeing some vintage comic book posters on sale at Pottery Barn Kids and thought that might be cool.

Well, after some browsing-- and might I add a ridiculous purchase ($150 on Superman sheets that were returned a week later when I got some sense)-- I remembered a poster my brother had in his room as a teen--it had a picture of some really cut and manly warriors with the tagline, "Stripling Warriors--Mama's Boys." The thought came to me that they were probably the best kind of heroes for my boys to look up to. Superman, Spiderman, Batman-you have your charms, but I want some REAL men for my boys to look up to.

An internet search began, and I am SOOO excited about what I found. Check these out:

They are called Real Hero Posters. They've got Nephi, Enos, Stripling Warrior, Samuel the Lamanite, Lehi, Moroni, and others. . . . . .The pictures are really cool and modern, and each has a scripture in the corner. There is even one for us gals about Lehi's family in the wilderness-focusing on how awesome the women were.

I am so excited to get a few--I just wish I could buy them slightly smaller so I could fit more into the kids' rooms. Check it out for yourself: http://www.realheroposters.com/

. . .just growing a fetus, that's what's up. . . .

My mom told me she talked to my Grandpa last week and she described the family gathering we had few Saturdays ago: when she got to me she said, "Camilla, well, let's see. . . . Erin (my sister) gave her a pedicure, and then, umm, she ate some dip, and, well, I think she's just growing a fetus these days (aka, I sat on my bum while everyone else cooked, cleaned, and played around--but phrased in my mother's polite language)."

And that is what is up. . . .I am currently neglecting my laundry, my bathroom, by bedroom, my kids (see guilt in my countenance after that confession), so that I can sit on my bum most of the day. Sad, yes. True, yes.

Though, I did take one for the kids this week who have basically been out of school for testing (Kindergarteners get their own 30 minute face-to-face time block): I took the kids to the zoo, to the park, and to the indoor pool--GO ME! (I am cheering myself on because I didn't feel like leaving the house at all).

Twin Teamwork OR Calling Dad's Bluff

Last night on the way home from the twins' T-ball game, D stopped to get gas. He turned around and the twins were out of the car sitting on the curb beside the pump.

"What are you guys doing?" D asked.

"We aren't getting back into the car unless you buy us a treat."

D laughed. "You mean if I don't get you a treat, you are going to walk home?"

Davis retorted, "I know the way." Eliza quipped, "Yeah."

D wasn't too hard to convince, because he actually wanted to get an ice cream cone. . . . .so, the twins won the battle. Smart Buggers. Now I am curious to stop at the gas station--but I am not afraid of making the kids walk home. . . . could be interesting.

"No. . . .Tars."

Roger loves his Hot Wheels. He plays with them for hours each day. . . . seriously, how lucky am I? Last night, I yelled from the other room, "Roger, time for dinner. Come into the kitchen."

His reply, "No. . . . .Tars." He was busy and would not be interrupted.

Change is coming

I just had a unique experience: Roger started crying mid-nap, so I slipped into his room, picked him up, and rocked him back to sleep. Generally, he's such a great sleeper he doesn't wake up early. In fact, it is usually me that has to grab him out of bed as the family heads off to one of the twins' gymnastics classes.

So I am sitting in the big rocking chair, with my two-year-old cradled across my diminishing lap, and he sticks his little hand right up onto my growing belly and closes his eyes. And as I am looking at him, I can remember holding him in the same chair just over two years ago and rocking his tiny little, blanket-rolled body to sleep. Sure, he's the same kid, but he's just so much bigger now. Bigger hands, bigger legs, and a bigger personality.

And then I realize that he's not going to be my baby for very much longer. This makes me sad. I'm sad because he's going to have a hard time not being coddled anymore. Instead of saying, "Davis, please share that toy with your younger brother," I'll be saying, "Roger, you need to share with your little brother. Roger, will you please go get mommy a diaper? Roger, will you throw this in the garbage can?" And I just don't know if he's ready for that. But, ready or not-- it's going to change.

I'm wary of the aches and pains that will come with this adjustment. I'll admit, I'm scared spitless about having 4 kids. I know I've got so much work ahead of me--so many sleepless nights-- which don't bring out the best in me. I'm also nervous about being able to give all my children the attention they need--and deserve. I hope that as this baby arrives, and we adjust to a new 'normal' that whatever changes happen will not negatively affect our family. Will I still have time to read stories and sing songs at night? How much extra time will the T.V. be turned on--to the detriment of my growing 6-year-old's brains? Will the twins be able to adjust to the fact that we can not host a play-date every single day? (they are going to have to!). I anticipate Roger's clinginess will get worse- will I be able to patient with him? Will I physically survive the 12 weeks post-delivery without significant help from D? (never not had him around before).

When I start questioning all the hard things that will happen and my mind starts whizzing into overdrive, I try to remember that babies bring something peaceful and angelic to a home. They are the newest visitors from heaven. There's gotta be some blessings coming to us that I can't fathom yet, right?

So, I'm going to try to cherish the memory of my sleeping baby--little Roger on my lap-- and file that memory away into my imagination. . . . .

Gimme Some Iron

Last week, I went to the doctor (is there any other pregnant ladies out there who get tired of so many visits?). I had a glucose tolerance test and a cbc 3 weeks before and the results were in: I don't have gestational diabetes, but, I am anemic!!

When the N.P. for my Doc delivered the news, she asked me if I've been tired or short of breath. . . .symptoms of anemia. I told her, yeah, I've been tired, but just blamed in on pregnancy.

So now I am taking Iron pills. But, I have a little problem, I'm totally noticing how tired I am and even when I'm short of breath. Is it getting worse, or am I just more aware of it. I feel like I was in ignorant bliss until now. . . .