Friday, November 22, 2013

Seven Quick Takes: Vol. 11

More lovely takes over at Conversion Diary:


Winter, winter, winter.  This is my front yard:

Today is only -7 Celsius, which is fairly mild, so I might actually venture out for a 4 minute walk with the kids. Wednesday however was -20 in the morning. The morning I had to grocery shop, because we were out of milk, eggs, cheese, bread (even flour), fruit, pasta and basically everything else I needed to make a good quick lunch. I'm thankful for one thing that morning: Command-start on our van.  I'm not grateful for car seats, winter-wear, which takes forever to bundle the kids up in - only to have it all taken off in the van, then put on again to get to the store.  I'm also not grateful to the person who decided to park in the designated "Expectant mothers and parents with children" when she had a teeny baby bump and no kids in tow.

I resisted the urge to roll down the window and yell "Hey! I'm 8 months preggo and have 2 kids here, so you can take your little Audi and your rookie-mom ass and park it over there!"

She was also not wearing a winter coat, which is why I could see her teeny bump - so I guess I can forgive her for not wanting to get frostbite.

Meanwhile, I parked halfway down the humongous lot, bundled up the kids and made the trek,  slowed by little legs and pushing a cart through ice and snow, feeling every bit of bitterness toward this unknowing, lululemon clad woman that I could muster.  Maybe she has 4 more kids at home... but she didn't quite look seasoned enough.  She had that "Woohoo! I can finally exercise my Superstore-given right to a good parking space" look.


Christmas is coming. Baby is coming. Our home is filled with so much anticipation.
I've put away some Christmas baking in the freezer already, and have bought many of the gifts on my list.  I don't want Christmas to be a non-event, overshadowed by the baby - especially for Patrick, who has "gotten" the Christmas thing since last year.  Carter just gets excited about whatever Patrick does.

With Patrick coming into a new understanding of the season, I am filled with a sense of urgency around instilling in him the real reason for the season.  I am not one of those anti-Santa people, to be clear. I think believing in Santa Clause was a fun and wonderful experience as a kid.   However, I'd like my kids to know that Christmas is about Christ's birth and augment that with a little Santa magic.

To make it less confusing, and keep the Jesus-message the overarching theme, I decided to follow what Jennifer at Catholic Inspired has done with the Playmobil Wisemen.  I love this idea so much, and I can't wait till the first Sunday of Advent for it to begin! I'm thinking the wise-men will stumble onto some sort of yummy treat each Sunday of Advent to set those days apart from the others.


I'm loving Carter these days.  He is 2. He is in no way "terribly two". Come to think of it, neither was Patrick.

Carter is beginning to speak full sentences.  He says prayers with us at night, adding only the words "Fader", "Name", Come", "Done", "Bread", and "Us", to the Our Father, and is fairly convinced that we pray for "Uncle Jenni" when we're mentioning Joseph's sister in our intercessory prayer.

He's gaining some autonomy and wanting to be his own person.  "Me do!" is becoming his latest catchphrase. But he's also still at a point where he's proud of himself when he does tasks for me, like picking up toys and fetching various items I ask for.  AND he's still pretty snuggly, so at least once a day he comes up to me asking for hugs, and then nestles in under my chin for awhile.  I anticipate a bit of a battle when the baby comes for mommy-time, so perhaps I'll spend a couple months where I'm ALWAYS cuddling someone. Oh well... it's winter, right?

I love his sweet squished face. 

My productivity has gone way down, with good reason.
On the advice of my midwives, I'm putting in a little less time on my feet.  Baby 3 is sitting low, head down and in fine form for labour, according to them... only it's about 5 weeks till my due date.  After 2 labour-like episodes (contractions I needed to pause and breathe for, about 5 min. apart for a couple hours) they say I need to take it easy.  Specifically, no more picking up kids, no walking more than around the house and the few places I go, and staying hydrated and well-rested

I'm so exhausted that this is fine with me.

In the words of one of my midwives, "Even tell people you are on bedrest. That way, they won't ask you any favours and you don't have to feel guilty or stressed about not doing things you don't really want to do anyway. Because hello! What idiot asks an 8-month pregnant woman to do anything? But when it's your third baby, they think you're superwoman or something."

I burst out laughing.


I posted about third-baby-itis earlier this week.


I love seeing my boys "brother" each other.  When they do things like this, it warms my heart.


I'm really running out of stuff here. I thought I'd have more to say, but that's what comes from being housebound and preoccupied with just accomplishing sanity and daily tasks.

I've been interrupted anyway by the need to get these boys down for their nap.  I just heard Patrick say to Carter, "I'm sorry I hit you Cart, but you really need to stop looking at me."

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