I will not blog a to-do list... *updated to add: I didn't need to!*

This is what I started to post over coffee this morning... read on for the "real" post below that...

Oh, I really hate blogging in the morning. The whole day is stretched out in front of me, clean and unfettered like new stationery (one of my many addictions). I'm not feeling terribly contemplative, or creative. The coffee hasn't kicked in yet... and all I can usually pull off is a laundry list of things to get done for the day. Bet that's fun blogrunning, eh? But today, I am not going to do that.

The big news (and I think the only folks who will truly share in this joy are other women who've done this), I am back. in. drag. Yes! This morning I donned a pair of Zorak's jeans, and am dressed like your average country transvestite ready for a day of work! (Yes, *his* jeans. Because it will be another year before I can get into *mine*, but let's ignore that part, shall we? He's lean. It counts.) I'm not a frou-frou woman, by any stretch of the imagination, but I've gotta say it does feel good to don support garments and run a brush through my hair! Yup, nice way to start the day, that whole personal hygiene thing...

James had a dentist appointment this morning... at eight o'clock. This is the second one in two days that I scheduled at that hour. Proof that women that close to birthing should not be allowed out in public, eh? WHAT was I thinking? Anyhow, Zorak took him (after confirming that it wasn't going to be anything like John's extensive work yesterday - it's going to take a while for Zorak to recover from that) and then will keep him at work today. I've got the three Littles with me for the day.

Um, yeah, that was at nine o'clock this morning. I typed the above, then got up to get a cup of coffee, switch out a load of wash, and check on John and Smidge, who were outside playing in the yard. I got the coffee. Then I heard screaming. Wailing. Thumping and gnashing.

I bolted to the front door and opened it to see John standing at the door, blood-spattered and screaming. He was cradling his arm, and completely hysterical. I hauled him into the house and ushered him to the bathroom to rinse off the blood and ascertain the situation. Well, I'm not an "every little gash needs stitches" kind of Mom. I really believe a little scarring won't hurt, and for the most part you just band-aid the thing together and admonish the child not to move it or it'll scar. Done.

This was not one of those situations. I took one look, did a full-body shudder, wrapped the thumb in a towel and told him to load up, we're going to the hospital. Amidst trying to find a carseat for Em (Zorak has the pickup today, which has the other small carseat in it), grabbing diapers, insurance cards, and making phone calls, John relayed the story to me. Poor little guy was trying to split firewood and he got his thumb with the hatchet. All I could do was hug him and thank him for being upfront and honest. We'll deal with the other questions and issues when the blood congeals, ya know.

So, five long and hungry hours, one truly phenomenal physician, one cranky childless LPN and two great mom RNs later... we're home with five stitches and one mighty impressive dressing, as well as antibiotics and pain killers. I'm being good and staying out of the pain killers.

John was a total trooper. Brave. Honest. Attentive. I am so proud of him. He was terrified until the nerve block kicked in, then he was very matter-of-fact about the process. I asked if he wanted the doctor to give him webbed fingers while he was working and he said, "Honestly, Mom, I just want him to fix my thumb." Ah, well, can't blame ya for that!

Who needs a to-do list when you have children?

Kiss those babies! I'm going to snuggle my little lumberjack.
~Dy

Family Photos

We certainly have no trouble figuring out what to take pictures of at this house!



Smidge delights in keeping track of the "BEEbee!" He plops down anywhere, reaches out and says, "Me? My turn!" I think he's decided this new kid in the house thing is pretty nice. (And no, we haven't been out of our jammies for three days... why do you ask?)





James is awed. Reverential. In love. This is the baby he prayed for. When he was four and hoped for a sister, he wanted to name her, "Beautiful Girl that I Love So Much". I think it fits.



And John got his wish of being the first to hold here. Here he is the morning she was born. He was the first one up and into the room.



And as far as house photos go: here's a quick tour of the one semi-finished bedroom. In that last picture, with John, you can see our expandable insulating foam in the window frame, my lovely - yet unpainted - texture job on the wall, and the view - albeit skewed by the dirt in the window frame - of the back yard. Striped bedding by IKEA. Thank you. :-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

When Things Go So Well

Last night I heard from a dear, old friend whom I haven't heard from in a couple of years. He called to touch base and wish us well with Emily. While we were thrilled to hear from him, the phone call was bittersweet.

We have all of this joy in our lives to share -- the Forever Home, moving here to Alabama, the wonderful boys and all they've been up to, the fun we have, the happiness we enjoy, this sweet baby girl, Zorak's great job, and how much I love my life -- I could go on, but I cut myself short while talking with him.

Because, you see, things aren't so happy in his life. At all. Even the things that could be construed as potentially joyful bring no joy.

And it broke my heart.

I felt, suddenly, as if I was rubbing salt into an open wound with every positive thing that came out of my mouth. So I shut up and tried to think of neutral things, outside things, positive-in-his-life things. But there just wasn't anything. And it's not a case of him being a pessimist or a negative person. It's really that things just are not happy there. And they probably won't change. This is his life -- his family's life. It's not something I understand, or the lifestyle I would choose, but I know how it happens.

Still, it's sad. He is such a great guy, and has such a gentle spirit.

But he's not the only one. It seems lately that there is a lot of bitterness and sadness sprawling about the emotional countryside. And here I come, galumpfing through the hills with this goofy smile on my face, belting out songs from The Sound of Music (granted, they're squalled out off-key, but it's a robust noise, nonetheless), with the kids in tow (wearing old curtains and happy about it), and the dog carrying what's left of one of my slippers, and... Boy, talk about your not-so-graceful entrance.

How do you all handle it when things are really good for you, and not so much for your loved ones? What do you say when everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like you're channeling Pollyanna and she's drawing her nails down someone else's chalkboard? Is it possible to have a conversation where you can answer their inquiries without causing them sadness or pain?

I realized last night that it might sound like I'm really laying it on thick at times, and I'm not. We've worked darned hard to get where we are - in our relationship, our finances, our lifestyle - this didn't just magically come to us, it's been work, and the payoff is good. BUT, to someone who is so far from happy that even the beauty of a sunset may not be visible, this kind of joy probably seems painfully garish. And I just don't know how to gently tiptoe through those meadows. I'll keep trying. I don't want to cause loved ones pain at all, and while I cannot bring myself to feel guilty for all we have, I also am under no motivation to rub anybody's nose in anything. Ever.

SO. Awkward moment ensues. Everyone clears their throats. And then what do you say? Have you ever felt this way? Or have you ever been the one who wasn't in a happy spot? If so, how could your ridiculously happy friends handle it that would make it easier? Let you know that your presense is a part of that happiness. Let you know there's a place for you in their lives and that you're loved and noticed. Because you are, and even when you are not happy, you bring joy to their hearts and they love you. Trust me, I know.

Kiss those babies, and I wish you joy.
~Dy

Overheard and Observed Lately:

James:
When I stop singing to her, she starts meowing again.
*whispering* Oh, Mom... her ears are the size of candy!
Hey! I can reach all the way around you again!

John:
Babies are delicate, you know.
Wow - that's the whole baby! (Said during a diaper change - first time she was more than a head in a blanket.)
I think she needs to eat.

Smidge:
Ewwww... (pointing at some random body fluid)
Baby. Bed. Now. (Smidge carries a receiving blanket around, waiting to tuck her in the moment we lay her down.)
TOES! (Huge source of fascination!)

Zorak:
Huh? I'm up! I'm up! Are you okay? I'm up!

We're learning so many wonderful things.

For instance, did y'all know that when a little baby girl pees during a diaper change, you don't have to dodge or do a three-foot perimeter search for cleanup? That is very cool.

Bed Rest? Means. Nothing. when you have your fourth child. (Ah, well, I could dream, couldn't I?)

SweetPea gowns are darling, no matter what gender you put them on. Babies are just precious. Period. (We knew that, but it's fun to rediscover with each baby.)

Not being near family when you have a wee one is a little sad.

When the puppy doesn't see Mama for a couple of days, he gets a little spastic.

The capacity for people to share in joy and celebrate is breathtaking. (See the comments in Em's arrival post.) I am completely blown away by all of the wonderful comments and how y'all have joined us in welcoming Little Em to the family. *Thank You.*

And now it's time for me to sneak back to bed and kiss that baby!
~Dy

We Did It!

Well, it's 3:47AM, so for obvious reasons, this is going to be short and sweet.



Little Miss Emily arrived at 1:18AM on January 16 er, 17, 2006. Her birth was amazing, and once it got started, it was quick. (Evidently so quick that I thought it was still the 16th!)

She's 19" long, weighs in at 6lb. 8oz., and has a healthy set of lungs on her. We can't tell what color her hair is, but she's got a little bit of it. She's a champion nurser already - catches on quick. I think she'll fit right in with her brothers.

We're all doing well. John awoke to our calls and came to greet her. James stayed up so late in anticipation that the horsemen of the apocalypse could not rouse him, but he will be thrilled come morning. Smidge stumbled out around three to see what all the noise was about, and sat in awe of the baby from the fish pool.

Zorak and I are exhausted, thrilled, and ready to hit the hay.

We're off to kiss this sweet baby.

Woo-Hoo! Ride 'em, Cowboy!

Well, now, this is more like it! Contractions are coming about every five minutes, and lasting 50-55 seconds each. This is the bronc I was hopin' to draw. This is what it should be like! Yeah, buddy!

This evening we showered, and I rolled my hair (hey, I had to have something to do, okay?) We ate supper and hung out, talked with the boys. John is a little disappointed that there is no sister today, but optimistic that she'll come tomorrow. Both of the older boys asked us to wake them if she's coming while they're asleep. They'd like to be awake and ready to go when she arrives.

I tried to lay down and get some sleep, but that's when the phone rang and the boys came unhinged, and... well, you know how that goes. Ah, well, I kept my eyes shut and only spoke when spoken to. Feels good, and I'm feeling rested beyond belief, but I'm crawling back in bed just to be on the safe side.

Also, I've changed the commenting feature, and will see how this goes. Anyone can comment - it'll still require that horrible word verification, but no longer requires you to have a blog in order to post. Comments won't appear immediately, though, as they'll go through comment moderation. SO, play nice - and please remember to sign your name. Unless there's a name, or I happen to recognize your style of writing, it may not make it through moderation. Not trying to be grouchy, but just don't have the energy for much moderating.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Totally Boring Labor Update

OK, I really expected to have a baby in my arms by nine this morning - that's twelve hours, and that's plenty of time to spit one of these little critters out.

But.

No.

So I just had to call our midwife (again) and tell her there's still no change - average contraction is coming every 6-8 minutes apart, lasting about 25 seconds, with a whomperdine humdinger coming along just shy of every hour. Whoopty-do. She laughed. This is either far, far more efficient than I realize, or I'm just far too well-rested for my body to know what to do now. (Yes, LB, we've tried all manner of things. *grin*)

The midwife said to give her a call when we need her, but not during her belly dance lessons. (Of course she was joking, but it's only a half hour long class, so I'm pretty sure we can accomodate her on that request. *grin*) I'm glad we didn't ask them to come up right away. It's always awkward to have people sitting in your living room, staring at you. Or hanging out in the kitchen over coffee, while you're sequestered on your knees in the pool. Life as a dolphin at Sea World would be the ultimate Karmic Payback for me, if I believed in reincarnation.

Well, supper smells great -- I love that Zorak is such a great cook. It's raining out, so I can't do anymore laundry. The bed is made and ready to go -- and now it looks beautifully inviting. I didn't find the mama fiction books I'd gone looking for in the basement, but did find Zorak's Nietzsche and an anthology of short stories, so that's something to do.

Oh funny. I went to the living room to grab the books (because I couldn't remember what I'd brought up from the basement - the ultimate in pregnancy-brain), and promptly forgot what I was after (ack! it strikes again!). As I stood there, wondering aloud what I was looking for, James piped up helpfully with, "Food product?" ROFL - well, now that you mention it, a "food product" does sound good. Where did Zorak hide those FastBreak candy bars???

Will update later, hopefully with some exciting, fast-paced news! (Or something like that.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Labor Check-In

Things are coming along. Little Miss Emily is sure taking her... erm, time about it. But we're feeling great and -- wow, oh wow! Zorak did an amazing job of cleaning the kitchen and living room! That was like a special birthing present in itself.

I rested most of the night, got up at five-thirty for a couple of hours to get some water and a snack. Then I curled up in bed and went back to sleep - until eleven-thirty! Contractions would wake me, but nothing I couldn't recover from and go back to sleep as soon as they were over.

You know, I've never labored before when I wasn't absolutely exhausted. With James' birth, we'd been up for four days straight, working, and we were out of town when labor began. With John's birth, well, I'm just a night-owl -- no excuse, there. With Smidge's birth, we'd just moved not a full week before and had been up all night unpacking. Doing it this way feels so... so... GOOD! :-D

TMI warning for men (may want to skip to the non-italicized part if you're squeamish or just plain weirded out by girl-talk)

Contractions are coming about five minutes apart, and feel pretty productive. They aren't lasting long, though, maybe 15-20 seconds. I'm anxious for things to pick up the pace a bit. Threw in some laundry, snacked on breakfast leftovers... roaming around looking for something to do. I might go down to the basement and see if I can find a book I haven't read yet (you'd think, considering 3/4 of what we own is books, that wouldn't be a difficult task, eh?) She's moved down quite a bit - I just showed James how much lower Em is, and he squeaked, "You've got RIBS!" This is. so. cool.

Anyway, not holding anything but my breath at the moment, but that's okay, it's been a pleasant morning and a great day so far. When I checked my email and saw all the warm, wonderful wishes, y'all just made my heart burst. Thank you. I'm going to print them out for Em's scrapbook (b/c as Jess says, someday we'll be 80 years old and have to do something with our time - so we can scrapbook then!)

Have a lovely Monday, and kiss those babies!
~Dy

I guess it is!

Well, guys, it looks like this is it. Time to ride that bronc and see how we fare.

We hit the Super-Awesome Buffet and ate until we all felt lethargic. Then to Wally-World for a few last-minute items (um, chux, vinyl sheet... yeah, we keep thinking we're done and getting rid of those things... silly us) Well, perhaps rather than bronzing baby shoes, we can bronze a vinyl sheet - sort of symbolic of all the kids, right? he.

Yeah.

Um, gotta go switch out some wash, take a shower and lay in bed swearing I'm asleep and getting some rest. I swore to myself I'd not be up when labor started this time, and darned if it didn't decide to start before midnight, just to prove me wrong. Can't win 'em all, but that's okay. We're good to go!

Talk to ya in the morning!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Is this it? (Random morning musings)

I don't know. My back aches this morning. In waves. Part of me is thinking, "Well, I did get to bed at nine-thirty last night and got a good night's rest, so this would be a good day to go into labor." Another part of me is thinking, "But it's cold out right now... And the dog escaped and did a Templeton the Rat Smorgasboard-at-the-Fair routine on the house... And I was going to texture the dining room today... And... *whine*" So there ya have it. I don't know.

Our official edd started out at the 19th, then the spread widened to the 6th - 19th, somewhere in there. I prefer spreads over specific dates - they seem to alleviate the number of people who ask if you've had that baby yet (why, yes, but this gas is just causing awful bloating), don't ya think it's about time (no, we're shooting for the Guinness record for longest human pregnancy, why?), what are you going to do if you go past your due date (keep waddling? explode? what are my options?), and a slew of other irritating questions that may seem witty to the unencumbered. (Although nobody's done that here, and I do appreciate it, deeply.)

Truth be told, questions like that make pregnant women insane and grouchy. We're well aware of just. how. long. we've been pregnant. We're also well aware that we look miserable and that we are rapidly running out of elastin reserves. We live with the fear of our skin rupturing and us lying on the sidewalk with the wee critter emerging from our abdomens, Alien-style. "Are ya done yet" quips don't help that any. So we set a spread. Babies are born when they're done baking. They come when they're ready, and there's not much we can do but enjoy a mild panicky sensation as the ride begins, and then ride it out like a bronc buster. WEEHAW!

OK, I think I'm done with the disturbing visuals now. Sorry 'bout that. This is what happens when you cut back on caffeine. See? Coffee is a good thing.

Oh, speaking of which, I found a great new blog on the WTM listings. It's called, Caffeinated. So, of course, I had to check it out. I enjoyed it, and naturally feel a distinct kinship to anyone who believes in better living through caffeine.

Also, Staci, Mamabear, Kim (and the rest of y'all with HaloScan's anyone-but-Dy-can-comment feature) I read, but I cannot comment. *sigh* HaloScan hates me. However, I still enjoy your blogs daily, so please blog more often.

Well, the boys are up and I can stave them off no longer. They wake up so hungry, I have to wonder if they get up and go party in the meadow during the night. We feed them regularly, per the instructions, and they get fed well at supper. Yet still, first thing out of their precious little mouths in the morning is a plea for food. Because they're starving. It's accompanied by the most pathetic big-eyed expressions and folded hands. What's up with that?

My laundry froze on the line last night (that's how you know you're done doing laundry for the day, when it's crispy and stiff), so as soon as it thaws I can bring it in and finish it up. Guess I should go through all the lovely little girl clothes that we've been blessed with (because we have wonderful friends who took pity on this little girl when they realized I have had neither the time nor the inclination to shop for her - THANK YOU!) and wash some up today.

Just in case we don't make the Guinness records book. ;-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

No news, just slacking.

Doing laundry.

Cleaning dishes.

Watching movies on the couch with Zorak.

Blissfully normal reprieve.

Still pregnant.

More later.

DY

A quiet virtual Friday night

Well, Zorak is still in the attic, and today was pretty quiet all the way around. I did, however, get tagged for a meme by Lynette, who is blogging now, and is a lot of fun to read. So, in honor of her new blogger status, here's the meme:

2 Things

2 names you go by:
1. Mama
2. Dy

2 parts of your heritage:
1) Irish
2) German
(This translates to: bad temper, great sense of humor, and I can hold my alcohol.)

2 things that scare you:
1. Roaches
2. Losing my family
(Not in that order.)

2 of your everyday essentials:
1) coffee
2) time spent just on the boys
(In that order - it just doesn't work well the other way around.)

2 things you are wearing right now:
1) sweats
2) wool socks
(It's winter. I'm pregnant. This is as creative as it gets, folks.)

2 favorite bands or musical artists:
1) Ian Tyson
2) Robert Earl Keene

2 things you want in a relationship (other than real love):
1) Intellectual challenge/growth
2) Laughter

2 truths:
1) I am horribly uncoordinated.
2) It is, evidently, not a recessive gene. (Apologies now to the boys in the years to come.)

2 physical things that appeal to you (in the opposite sex):
1) Great smile
2) Good, lean arms

2 of your favorite hobbies:
1) Reading
2) Politics

2 things you want really badly:
1) To get the news in May that the house really is ours. Forever.
2) To get back into a normal routine before then.

2 places you want to go on vacation:
1) On a reading vacation w/ DH when the boys are old enough to go to camp
2) The Rocky Mountains (I miss them.)

2 things you want to do before you die:
1) Finish my degree
2) Pick up study of an instrument again

2 ways that you are stereotypically a chick:
1) I love to sit with my legs bent under me - ok, I didn't know this is a chick thing, but it is SO true for me, so I'm stealing Lynette's.
2) I comfort eat.

2 things you are thinking about now:
1) Wondering if the attic has claimed my husband for all eternity.
2) Whether or not I need to pick up vinyl sheets for the birth or if we still have the last set...

2 stores you shop at:
1) Wal-Mart (duh!)
2) Sheplers

2 people I would like to see take this quiz:
1) I don't know who has taken it and who hasn't... how sad is that?
2) So, if you read here and you want to do it, either answer in the comments, or blog your answers, but leave me a note to let me know you did it. (Or, if you know me and want to do it, but don't have a blog, email me your answers and I'll put 'em here.)

And on that note, I am going to forage for junk food.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

You did *NOT* just do that!!!

*edited to correct the glaring spelling errors - sorry*

Oy. Pioneer Club resumed at church last night. The boys were ecstatic, and I relished the idea of seeing everyone again. We ate supper, everyone hit the potty, and then we packed up and headed north. Now that we've moved, our church is an hour from the house, so it's a bit of a drive. John and Smidge sabotaged me yesterday afternoon -- I laid down with them so they'd nap and as soon as I was out cold, they took the pup outside to play. So naturally, they both fell asleep on the drive to church. Ah, well, they're little. It's okay.

We pull into the parking lot and John wakes immediately, crying. He has to pee. BAD. NOW. I get James out, get John out and give them instructions to go straight to the bathroom AND DO NOT DAWDLE!! They hold hands and head inside. As I'm lifting Smidge from the pickup, I hear James telling John, "No, not there! Come on! THIS way!" I turn around in time to see my son, the fountain of youth, urinating off the front porch of the church! Pants clean down to his boots, nekkid white legs illuminated by the glow of the sanctuary lights. So, being the nurturing, with-it mother that I am, what do I scream across the parking lot?

"NOOOOOOOO! OH MY GOD, STOP! JOHN, NO!"

*sigh* Lovely, Dy. And then what do I see? One of the elders walking across the lot. (This is where I pray, for the first time since, oh, Junior High, for God to just kill me now and make it end.) John turns and waddles all the way to the front door before remembering to pull his pants up. In this particular nightmare, he cannot hear me, as my screams fell on deaf ears. I think he was still partially asleep, but am still mortified - both by his behavior and my particular choice of panic-stricken words. But it's too late. They're inside. I can't hide in the pickup now.

So Smidge and I go in, do our thing. Lovely evening. Nice to see everyone. Nobody speaks of the incident. Myself included.

On the way out the door after Pioneer Club, I overhear part of a conversation between James and a little girl from his class. My heart skips a beat. I do not want to hear this conversation. I do not want to see my son skipping about with *that* grin on his face. What? No. No, I tell myself, this isn't what I think it is. Girls do this at this age. Girls in public school who listen to Brittany Spears and get to wear skimpy clothing. Not homeschooled boys who still make fart jokes! PLEASE!

We're in the car, buckling up, and I hear that someone has an "embarrassing secret". Yup, he's "in love". Worse yet, he told her tonight. Oy. And just to grind a little salt into that not-quite-ready-for-this wound, "it's just sprouting, budding like a new flower." Lovely, I've spawned a poet, to boot. Nice imagery, but... but... why did we leave Zorak at home? I neeeeeeeeed him for this talk!

I stutter, stammer, and beg off from replying to things on the premise that there's traffic and I have to concentrate on shifting gears (in my defense, it is a manual transmission, but yes, I realize that I am now telling my child I'm an idiot who cannot walk and chew gum at the same time - it was all I had, man.)

We discussed agape love, filial love and... oh, crap, there is no way I'm teaching this child the term "eros love" at this age. He knows too much as it is. And, um, the love Mommy and Daddy have, which takes DECADES to grow and develop and which God won't reveal to you until you have survived the trauma of many, many dysfunctional partners, so that you can fully appreciate the Woman God Has Ordained For You.

Hmmm... no, that's probably not the best approach. Well, let's face it, my single life in no way prepared me to help guide a child into making healthy personal relationship choices, ok? I have never claimed otherwise. And Zorak? *snort* He's in worse shape than I am. It is pure Divine Grace that he and I found one another and managed to get this far.

*sigh* So, I did manage to get him focused on the love we feel toward our brothers and sisters in Christ, the love of friendship, and the importance of making sure you've found your own way and path in life before even beginning to worry about finding a wife (because that is his concern - that he's going to miss the one God has picked for him, or in some way let her down, and he doesn't want to do that). So we're good? We're focusing on friendship and finding your own path first? OK, good. *whew* Oh-and by-the-way-would-you-please-clarify-that-with-her-the-next-time-you-see-her-because-I'm-already-going-to-have-to-give-her-mother-an-awkward-heads-up-as-it-is-thanks.

I think next week I'm letting Zorak take the boys and I'll stay home...

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

My Christmas Gift

The pictures FINALLY LOADED!!!

Around mid-December, the boys spent a week helping Zorak with the plumbing work by cutting copper pipe for him. They did all the measuring and cutting, handled the set up and clean up. I double-measured for their lengths before cutting, but that was the only involvement Zorak or I had in the cutting project. The boys were so proud and so excited. I was, too, thinking that they were taking a great part in the building of our Forever Home. How cool. Even Smidge "helped" by holding the pipe with one boy while the other one cut. It was too cute.

But that's not the whole story...

You see, Zorak had A Plan. And a good one it was, too.

I had no idea.

He taught the boys to make a jig,

size it up,


use the drill,


and put all those skills together...


to make a surprise for Mama!


They were so proud of themselves.

And here are my beautiful windchimes, as seen from the front porch...


The neat thing (well, among many neat things) is that these are made using materials we've used in renovating the home - firewood from our first load of wood, pipe from all the plumbing, nails from the woodwork. In years to come, the copper will turn a beautiful shade of green, and the wood will grey, and they will still make beautiful music and remind me of the time we put into building our future together. I cried. And I smile everytime the wind blows.

A few reminders this morning

More for me than anyone else. I'm not preaching, but they were beautiful and gentle, and they helped a great deal. So I wanted to put them down.

You will never regret holding your tongue with a child.

If you can laugh when things go wrong, they will learn to do that, as well.

It will take twice as long to do something if you let them help, and that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Even if you enjoy it, you will be exhausted when it's done.

A woman is simply not strong enough to tighten a 50' clothesline enough to keep it from sagging when she hangs jeans on it. No matter how tough she thinks she is.

No matter what she tries.

Re-read the laughing part again, and commit it to memory. It will save you from having to commit yourself in a few years.

Any endeavor worth beginning is worth including your family.

I'm off to tackle "the next thing" (oh, how that phrase shames me!)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Midwives and Drywall

Today was really quite nice. We stayed up far too late working last night, but it was worth it this morning. The place looks great. James saw the arch and the sheetrocked dining room from his bed when he awoke, and all we heard was an awestruck whisper, "WOW!" Yeah, that feels good.

Zorak has developed either empathy swelling, or tendonitis in his left ankle. I'm hoping it's sympathy pains, but fear it's not. So he has been ordered by Doctor Mom to sit his rear on the couch tonight, put his foot up, and r-e-l-a-x. The man hasn't stopped moving since we bought this place, and while he's developed the body of Adonis from it, let's face it - Adonis isn't much use if he's incapacitated! He agreed to "try", but then when he called this afternoon, he actually said that he "keeps daydreaming of wiring ideas". Who does that? *shaking head* The man is sick, I tell you. Sick! He needs some downtime and soon!

I've done four loads of wash today, and enjoyed every single one of them (and just to prove I can laugh at myself, as well, "who does that??"), but since I am lacking a proper clothesline (we have one, but couldn't find it in the dark), I've had to stop washing until the 14 gauge Romex that's strung all over the back porch has more room. It was fun, though! And Zorak is picking up creamer, bread and clothesline on his way home from work. Yay!

We had a wonderful day of pregnant women and small children, fresh banana muffins (I forgot the honey in the recipe, threw in some turbinado sugar, and have to say I liked them much better than the recipe we normally use - fluffier, but I don't know why), friends, and the joy of being in a nice-looking place. The boys played their butts off and had a wonderful time. If I can get them to bed early tonight, they'll sleep the way little boys are meant to sleep. They need that stuff.

On the baby front, she is nestled in and happy, in a good position, strong and active (yeah, ask me how I know the last two!) Everything looks good, and we can have another appointment next Monday -- or not, if we don't have time. The ladies are comfortable that all is fine and we're doing okay. I think they also know that I'd much rather stay home and work on the place than travel for another prenatal appointment to hear the baby's heartbeat and pee on a stick. Maybe I should've asked them to leave me a stick and I could just call in the results? I can't believe it's time.

Oh! And our shower curtain rod arrived today! We bought the Crescent Rod - you know, that hotels use now. (And yes, I know that's a ghastly amount to spend on a shower rod. I know. But I got stuck with the small tub, and darnit, sometimes it's okay to splurge. It still cost less than the tub we wanted.) Anyway, we just ordered it the end of last week - that was FAST!! We're going to put it up tonight and spend the whole water heater's worth of hot water just trading spaces in the shower, laughing gleefully that nobody has to brush up against the cold curtain in passing! WOOHOO! (It's the small things that make a marriage happy, you know.)

I hope you're having a wonderful day, enjoying your families and your homes.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Texture, Rinse, Repeat

Yes, that is how I do my hair these days. It's not a 5th Avenue look, by any stretch, but it does have that "busy, industrious, woman on the go" feel to it. I think I'll be ready for a change, though, in a few months. You know, once the joint compound grows out...

Today we got a lot done, but not much is visible. Zorak accomplished a great deal more on the house than I did. I worked here and there, helped him, and focused on the boys. Poor little things are feeling pretty neglected this weekend. Heck, they are pretty neglected this weekend. So, we worked on that a bit. I hope it helped.

The big deal of the day was (pause for effect... keep holding - it's a big effect) The Arch. The front door opens into a foyer that is more like a hallway than an entryway. It doesn't feel welcoming at all. It has that KGB "wait here" feel to it. It leads directly to the hallway and dead ends there. There was a narrow doorway-like opening to the right that led to the living space, but it didn't exactly invite you in. Seriously. We live here, and we still scarcely gave furtive glances into the living space as we trudged single file to the hallway (and then to the right, into the living room from there). Ick.

A foyer should not say, "Papers, please. *pause* Proceed." It should grab you in a bear hug and say, "Welcome! Put your coat over here, kick off your shoes, and come on in. The coffee's fresh. We're glad you're here." So we gave it arms and a personality to match. The little doorway-like opening is now five feet wide and arched. It's gorgeous, and diverts the flow of traffic into the dining/living area rather than to the end of the hall. Even all nekkid without drywall or paint, it looks better. It also created enough butt room for people to mill about in the foyer while they don coats and boots and look for mittens. Prior to widening the opening, there wasn't room to turn around if someone was coming in behind you. So. That was today's big Hurrah! It's purty, too.

The house will be converged upon tomorrow morning (at nine, ack!) by the midwives and three other pregnant women with their children in tow. That means I've got a *lot* of cleaning to do before I go to bed tonight. (You know, in case I'm still in my jammies when they wake me up er, knock on the door tomorrow.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Three Months Ago...

(edited to add... I have no idea where I was going with that title, but I just got back and it makes absolutely no sense at all. My apologies. It's late.)
It's ten o'clock at night. I can hear Zorak, up in the attic, working on the wiring. Since I can neither fit up there, nor handle the air quality up there, he has to work solo on that stuff. I don't envy him, that's for sure. Normally, he does short spurts in the attic, then comes down to de-grumpify himself before heading back up, but today was incredibly productive for him and he's on a roll (a bit of a manic, slighty disconcerting roll, but hey, it's forward motion, so I'll keep the coffee fresh and just check in on him every few minutes.)

But that's not what made me write about it. What I was thinking was not,

"There goes my gallant knight, fortifying the castle from all manner of dragons!"

But rather,

"Wow, it sounds like we have a ravenous, terrifyingly large critter up there, gnawing its way through every layer of protection the house has to offer."

I'm glad he's coordinated, too, as he's balancing on the truss spans to keep from falling through the ceiling.

The washing machine works. The plumbing is beautiful. It does not leak. The fan and lighting are what Zorak is working on now. It is beautiful. Totally worth losing a coat closet to get the setup we have! I didn't get back from the Lowe's run until almost five (and I got there at a quarter of two!) so I didn't get to run any actual wash today. But we *could* wash clothes, and that's almost as exciting as actually washing clothes. (Just can't dry 'em because it's below freezing outside right now.) So, yeah, I'm good with that. Tomorrow's high is supposed to be 67' - it's as if God is sending me a Special Laundry Day. *sniff, sniff*

Yesterday did not get any better, and I feel like such a heel for not handling it well. The effort was valiant, but fell painfully short of worthy. Today was much better, except for a few attitudinal glitches on my part - totally on my part. I'm really quite highstrung these days. This is my Achille's heel: deadlines. I don't cope well with deadlines, and sadly, my innate response is to unleash the Fury of the Damned on anything that doesn't scamper out of my way quickly enough. Lovely trait, I know. I'm actually exponentially better now than I was ten years ago. There is improvement. That, in itself, is encouraging.

The boys bathed today and then gleefully covered themselves in dirt within minutes of donning fresh clothes. This, actually, is a joyful part of the day, as it's part of being a happy child living in the country. Of course, I admonish them not to get too dirty, but leave it just vague enough that they can play (which they will) and get dirty (which they will) without feeling bad about it in the end. That's the good stuff.

And now, I must retrieve a pizza from Hartselle and some grapefruit soda from Wal-Mart and come lure my ravenous dragon-slayer down from the rafters. I'll blog more later.

Dy

OMG OMG OMG!!!!!!!!!

We are ONE FITTING away from having a working laundry closet!

ONE trip to Lowe's for a fitting!

Just that one, small, 90' angle stands between me and my washing machine!

And then, I can dig into the remaining 70+ pounds (and growing) of wash that needs to be done! (Because no, I didn't make it back to the laundry place after last weekend, thanks.)

I cannot tell you how excited I am, but let's just say that if I wasn't afraid of either injuring myself or falling through the subfloor, I'd do a great big Toyota "What a Feeling" leap!

Be back later,
Dy

ARRRRRRGGGGGHH!

I don't think even Calgon could rescue this morning.

Between Zorak's alarm codependence (it's far better to set the alarm for some ungodly hour and hit SNOOZE every four minutes for two hours than to set it and GET UP THE FIRST TIME - that way the puppy, the children, and your adoring wife can share in the joys of interrupted sleep), the dog's passive resistance to clean floors, the boys' not-so-passive resistance to my repeated request lately to "use your WORDS! For-the-love-of-God-you-never-seem-to-stop-talking-except-when-you-ought-to-be-talking! PLEASE use your words!", and that stoopid pain that keeps shooting down my inner thigh everytime I try to stand up and accomplish something, it is safe to say that today. is. not. beginning. well.

At all.

But I will persevere. It matters not that I may have to lock those of the herd under four feet tall outside, or perform today's tasks on my hands and knees, SOMETHING will get done around here today. I honestly don't care if it kills me. Zorak can raise the kids. Aside from lactation issues, he'll be fine.

OK. SO. There it is. Accountability. Now I have to get something done and quit whining about Life and how it gets in the way.

Because we all have little things that gather under the couch and snipe our ankles on the way past.

Because we all have mornings where the stars align, only to rain down upon our heads with smelly sulphur and garment scorching embers.

Because we all live, and we all experience situations where the best of circumstances just isn't gonna happen and we all have to make do.

And we do it.

And we laugh about it when it's done. (Or not, but mostly, we can laugh.)

And having reminded myself of that, I'm off to rig up a creeper and see if the dog wants to be a sled dog for me today.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Well, nuts

I had a post about my Christmas gift nearly completed, and in the process of uploading photos, Blogger's upload feature went T-U. *sigh* Their engineers have been informed of the problem and are working to correct it (or some such thing, I shut the window in frustration before I read it all). Maybe later it'll be up again. I've got a Photobucket account, but am just not motivated enough to go mess with it right now. Sorry 'bout that.

In the meantime, totally unproductive day today. Painted some flooring, and spent the day on High Alert for dog droppings, but mostly spent a lot of time with the boys and the dog, just playing, reading, talking. It was nice.

James found a tick crawling on his arm. He picked it up, killed it, and then informed me about it in such a calm, matter-of-fact manner that at first I didn't think I'd heard him right. So. Naturally, I freaked out enough for both of us. Flea and tick collar goes on the dog TO-NIGHT! Ugh.

Smidge spent the entire day nekkid from the waist down, carrying his training potty with him from room to room. If he could have secured it on the barstool, I think he'd have eaten dinner on his throne. He's so excited. So far, though, no results for his efforts. The only time he peed all day was during the few times he had a diaper on (before breakfast, naptime, and while I was painting). Gotta admire his enthusiasm and persistence. That potty is as big as he is. I'd be exhausted after lugging one around all day, to be honest.

Did you know that "unseasonable" is really a euphemism for "freakish"? It is. When they say the weather is "unseasonably warm," what they mean is "it's freakishly warm". Not that I mind at the moment - high 60's makes for a great temperature to open the windows and doors and air out the house. Still... it's January, isn't it? You know, the Dead Of Winter... I'm thinking this does not bode well for summer temps, but then I could be wrong. (I hope I'm wrong.)

That's about it. Nothing more to write. Going to hit the hay early tonight and hope for a wonderfully productive day tomorrow!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

My sense of accomplishment tonight is tempered only by my sense of impending birth. Mighty odd combination, lemme tell ya. A friend laughed at me the other day because she’s convinced I’m the only woman this close to delivery who is actually praying the baby stays put a little while longer. (Not too long, as Zorak has a TDY assignment coming up that we’d like to go on, but long enough to get “just a little more done”.)

Aside from minor trimwork and towel racks, the main bathroom is now DONE. Finished – fully functional, AND attractive. It looks like a completely different room. Well, um, actually, it is a completely different room – from the new floorboards and subfloor to all the appliances, fixtures, walls and even the ceiling. All the wiring. All the plumbing. The cabinetry, double sinks, lighting. And we pushed a wall back a foot (which made an astronomical difference now that it’s all back together). Zorak even built a beautiful ceiling trim that makes the 8’ ceiling feel much taller and more spacious. The pocket door ROCKS. If you have the chance to put one in, don’t pass it up. That alone gives us a ton of floor space and leaves the area clear and clutter-free. We ordered a crescent shower rod, as well, which will make the shower enclosure feel more spacious, and I simply cannot wait to see the whole thing all trimmed out and picture ready.

The living room lacks primer and paint. That’s it. *huge cheesy grin*

This week we’ll focus on more wiring and on the laundry closet (which has me seriously cocker spaniel-like excited!) God willing, Emily will wait until I can do the wash at home before she makes her grand entrance. If she’s feeling particularly helpful, I’d like her to wait until we have the living and dining areas brought up to the same level of completion as the kitchen. That would be... perfect. *happy sigh*

On the baby front, however, she is much much lower now. I’d venture to say that if she’s not engaged, she’s close. I’m having minor twitching, light contractions, and a whole lot of femoral nerve pain. And yes, for the record, I’m ignoring all of it. Other than staying hydrated and reminding the boys to please use their inside voices, (we don’t want to make it sound like too much fun on this side of the womb, okay? Okay!) it's business as usual.

Smidge wants to use the potty. This will be much easier now that the potty is back inside once again. However, excuse me while I have a small meltdown over the fact that he couldn’t have begun this, oh, two months ago... one month ago... or just waited until Spring? No? No. *sigh* Of course not. (I actually held off on even mentioning it around him in the hope he'd be content to wear diapers until we got settled. How much of a total goober could I be?) Well, that’s okay. He knows what it is. He knows what he needs to do. He’s excited about doing it. That’s more than a lot of mothers get, and I will appreciate it for all its worth.

John has been talking about his allergy treatments quite a bit lately. He is anxious to undergo them. We are, too. Something else is getting to him recently - it shows in his little eyes and his demeanor - and I am terrified it’ll turn out to be something like corn or rice that he’s developing an allergy to. There is only so much I’m up for handling right now... and this wasn’t really on my top 100 list!! ARGH! We’re still not 100% sold on the treatment process, but we’re willing to give it a shot and see if it helps. If not, well, no harm done and we’ll know what avenue not to take next time. But if it works, oh heavenly joy!! Wouldn’t that be splendid? Yes, indeed.

James is a really neat kid. I'm so glad we didn't kill him while he was six. It really does get better! Gone is the argumentative demon that drove him mercilessly most of last year, and in its place is the spirit of exploration and curiosity and willingness to share that had originally inhabited our firstborn child. He's back to being helpful, attentive, funny. He’s changing drastically in his maturity level and his comprehension of the interconnectedness of all things. (In other words, he’s growing up.) Zorak and I are awed by him, and we truly enjoy his company lately. Moreso than usual. He’s got insight and a keen sense of how stuff works, and that’s quite a bit of fun to be allowed to observe as it unfolds and grows in your child. There is no drug on earth as potent as the twinkle of delight that shines in a child's eyes.

And ya know, just in case these contractions turn out to be more serious than I care for them to be, I'm going to go enjoy the new shower facilities at Hotel Forever Home and get some rest before midnight! (I keep swearing every pregnancy that I will sleep like a normal person, but so far I'm 0-3... sometimes I'm a little slow...)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Too Tired, Up Too Late

OK, it took me four tries to type the subject line. That in itself says a lot. Pre-emptive apologies for any typos I don't catch...

That said, the bathroom is tiled, grouted, and painted. It's beautiful. I feel good about the work accomplished. But we can't get the stoopid toilet flange back in now. Been working on it for two and a half hours. Zorak has to work tomorrow and really, deeply wanted the toilet back in before he leaves for work. I think I've finally convinced him that it's not going to happen tonight and that that's OKAY. His drive and determination are phenomenal, but they're going to be the death of me.

Must take Balto to the vet at eight-thirty in the morning. Funny. We don't get anywhere by eight-thirty in the morning. Not sure how that's going to work out.

Laundry room is ready to tie into the plumbing and put up the greenrock. Yeehaw! Once again, at another juncture of the project, I cannot express my joy and gratitude for the soon-to-be-completed phase of this part. I need to be able to wash clothes daily. I miss being able to change clothes daily. But the laundromat is not only expensive, but exhausting, and it takes time away from working on the house.

I tried three times in the past four days to get the wash done at the laundromat. Every time I've gone, the place has the air of a Mexican fiesta - jam-packed with Latino music, people, cousins (lots of cousins) -- food and kids everywhere. Not a single spare washer, and people gathered around them so thickly I can't tell if they're waiting on the current load or in line to use them next. I was telling LB that if I could have a margarita and do a little corrida, I'd be happy to stay, but lugging 90 pounds of wash (I'm not exaggerating - we weighed it in a fit of desperation where I contemplated using the drop-off service), out-to-here pregnant, with three small children in tow just wasn't conducive to the street faire tone. So, I bailed. I did pull out enough clothes for the boys to have clean skivvies and Zorak to appear at work relatively well-clad and dropped those off.

Today was an awesome day, but I'm too tired to do it justice. So, I'll have to blog about it tomorrow. Kiss those babies,
Dy

Still Looking Ahead

10:59PM:

We're moving too quickly to stop and reflect. There simply isn't time, and for now that's okay. Zorak is working on the laundry room (have I mentioned that one's definition of "sexy" changes drastically while renovating?), and I am preparing to slap down more paint. The boys are ringing in the New Year in Dreamland, sound asleep in their beds. But we did take a short bit tonight to enjoy the uniqueness of "the last time" -

We all had cereal for supper and we recapped the year while we ate. Their biggest memories of the year are "Maddy and Emmy", our Wonderful Neighbors from Maryland, and the things we did with them; fishing here in Alabama; and "looking for a house" (which, according to them, we began doing the second we entered the state and didn't stop until, oh, last week or so - I'm guessin' it was more traumatic than we thought!)

We medicated the dog and Lysol'd every flat surface less than three feet from the floor.

The boys watched a movie while I dotted the walls with mud and Zorak tore out the old coat closet studs. How the boys can sleep through the roaring whine of a reciprocating saw and the muttering whine of me stumbling over random buckets is beyond me. They'll do well if they serve in the military, though.

1:13AM
HAPPY 2006, Everyone!

The baby got a little rambunctuous, so I laid down to give her some room. Promptly passed out (for the record, narcolepsy would absolutely suck to have as a permanent condition), and awoke feeling ridiculously refreshed and ready to go for this late at night. Ah, well, run with it, right?

So the flooring in the living room and part of the kitchen has been repainted. The dog has been taken out... repeatedly. Do you have any idea how tempting it is to spray Lysol on his butt before letting him back in the house? The boys are still sound asleep, and we've blown a bit of time just watching them sleep. So beautiful. We have pizzas in the oven and Zorak's hooking up the ice maker (because I'm eating my way through a bag a day -- how embarrassing -- but we're both thankful it's just ice and not bon-bons).

I realized just a little while ago that we completely forgot a Very Important Date this year. December 16th officially marked ten years together for Zorak and I. Our first whole decade. Of course, we forgot to get married once, and then again, then we postponed the wedding because we procrastinate too much. It ended up taking us a full two and a half years before we could manage to get everything lined up and remember to show up for our own wedding. (That'll test your faith in a relationship, lemme tell ya! "Uh, honey... weren't we supposed to get married this morning?" Yep, we must have been made for each other.) But we have always honored December 16th, because we recognized one another then, over chicken fried steak and coffee, and we knew this was it.

Was it ever. Ten years, fifteen moves, four children, several lost loved ones, many surprises, and a whole lot of dreaming and working and playing. Yes, this still is it. Sometimes it's nice to be so right...

...and wrong. Turns out there was a little room for stopping to reflect tonight.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Poor Pup

We thought Balto had found the bean sprouts and had gone on some bizarre vegan rampage. But no, *sigh*. He has worms. Poor little guy. And poor Zorak, because I am not touching any messes that might arise from this. Not now. Not that. Ew.

Called a vet who has come highly recommended, both from Ben & Claudia and from Wonderful Realtor. Their office was closing in just a couple of minutes and they were completely slammed, but the lady was very accomodating about making recommendations for what we can do in the interim, and penciling us in for a visit first thing Tuesday morning.

Ew.

Wash your hands first, then kiss those babies!
~Dy

Scratch That

I updated my sidebar (everyone please check your links to make sure they work - I think I'm all caught up). Alaska, you can never move your blog again. Ever. Please. :-) I'll clean it up and make it a bit less sporadic at a later time, but right now...

Zorak just cleaned the tub, and we bought more grapefruit soda at Wally World today, so guess what I'm going to blow my evening doing!!!


HAPPY DANCE!!!

Kiss those babies,
Dy

Quick Blog, Then Back to Work

This morning was gloriously beautiful. We awoke to find our meadow, and in fact, our home, encased in a glittery, shimmering fog. I could hear the morning critters scampering about overhead, but could only see the dim shadows of limbs rebounding from some unseen creature's leap. It was magnificient. Zorak and I stood in the kitchen, crouched together in front of the one tiny light sucking hole er, window, both contemplating whether we actually need car insurance or electricity if we could instead use that money to put in a bigger kitchen window now. Mmmm, we decided to wait. It's not always fun to be the GrownUp.

You know, sometimes we feel like cueing up the Team America theme song, and sometimes we feel a lot like Tuck and Roll (from A Bug's Life). It's certainly been an interesting process so far.

The living room is now completely insulated, wired, and sheetrocked. We added one. more. outlet. It's a total pain in the netheregions, but it'll never be less of a pain than it is right now. And after a small scare in the kitchen last night, we've learned our lesson. (I stood there holding the coffee pot, thinking, "Crap. We need more outlets." Turns out they are there, they were just hidden.) We figure we won't ever look around the room and think to ourselves, "Gosh, I sure wish we didn't have an extra outlet in here." When I get done blogging tonight, I'm going to go slap some mud on the screws and then do a little more painting. (We're adding just. one. more layer of paint to the floors. Extra protection for the next five months, as well as changing the color to hide the traffic a bit better.) It's coming along, bit by bit.

Zorak is preparing the bath for priming and then hopefully I can tile it tomorrow. Then it will be done. Finito. El end. Yay.

The boys are doing so well. They're great with Balto (and he's great with them). They love seeing the house tangibly come together each day (there was much dancing and singing to commemorate the completion of the drywall in the living room). They still haven't quite shaken the Ick that descended upon us at Christmas, but from what I've read around the blogosphere, nobody has, so I'm not too worried. I figure if they're eating and getting water and have enough energy to run the property for hours on end, then they're not that bad off. Plus, with all the work going on inside, the more outdoors time they get, the better. (This dog has been an absolute Godsend for my sanity, believe it or not. It doesn't matter what the weather's like outside, or what video they spy in the cabinet, if the puppy is outside, they are outside. How could I not love that?!?)

Three more days of a long weekend to get some serious work done. That feels great. So, I'm off to do a bit more and then to bed with some tea and a book. Have a lovely Saturday, all!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

OK, I take it back! (The Countertops Arrived)

I *do* want people to call before coming over!! Yikes!

Not friends or family, of course -- but installers? Yes. You need to call me and tell me you are on your way, or at least two blocks from my home. Please.

The last I'd heard from the Corian folks, they'd be here Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday and they would call ahead of time to schedule it. Well, using my astounding powers of deduction (having not heard from them Monday or Tuesday), I realized this morning that they would most likely arrive today. So I stayed by the phone and waited... and waited... and waited... finally, with the boys all settled in and a fair warning that I would make them do useless busywork if they bickered, I grabbed the phones and headed in to take a bath (my semi-annual bath -- hygiene standards have taken a serious dive the past few months).

I relish the mere prospect of bath time for myself lately. It's a rare and wonderful treat, the essence of which Willy Wonka couldn't have captured. I got a big glass of crushed ice and grapefruit soda (my latest obsession). I grabbed Claudia's copy of Eldest. I ran a full tub of scalding hot water and lined up the various sloughing products to make myself feel all feminine and... well, actually "feminine" is a bit of a stretch at this point. I was shooting for less angry-big-foot-meets-mountain-lumberjack-chick-ish. That would have been nice.

I'm in the water not three minutes, still writhing in pain from the scalding my legs are taking, when there is a pounding on the door. Smidge is standing in the hallway yelling, "Door!" John is screaming out the window, "It's the countertop men!" And I'm swearing under my breath, wondering just how weird it would be to have James answer the door and show them where to start while I stayed put. Hmmm... Nah, so we relay the message down the hallway that I'll be "right there" and I scramble grudgingly to don some clothes and put on a happy face.

But in spite of my enthusiasm over having countertops (and the enthusiasm bordered on censorable, believe me), I did not have a happy face. The first thing Installer Guy says is, "So, are you ready for us?" No. No, actually, I'm not. I was taking a bath, which may seem like no big deal for you, but you are not forty pounds heavier than usual with loose ligaments and a thin sheen of fiberglass insulation coating your sensitive parts, now, are you? Argh. One thirty-second phone call would have saved me a whole lot of grief and frustration. (Of course, that was my inner dialogue. All that actually came out was, "No, actually. I was told to expect a phone call to set up a time. *maniacal smile*.") It's now midnight and I never did get my bath. Hmpf.

BUT, it's all worth it. The countertop is splendid. It blends perfectly with the range and the cabinets. It flows. It holds stuff off the floor. It looks so... intentional. Thanks to the wonderful sample sheet, the paint we picked for the walls highlights it perfectly. It's beautiful.

Zorak loves it. He keeps muttering, "swanktastic", and making up other words to convey his pleasure. He also keeps caressing the edges in a way he hasn't done since we bought The Mistress.

The boys love it. We ate supper at the breakfast bar tonight, and it was great. Smidge stayed put and actually ate (been an issue lately, but once he falls off the bench at the table, his concentration is shot and he's off 'n running). John not only finished first, but had seconds and then stayed there to hang out and visit (oh, joy - that is so what we were shooting for!!) James said, "Thank you for making the kitchen like this." ?? Like what, Hoss? "With this breakfast bar we can sit at and hang out in. We can do stuff here, and I like that. So, thank you." Mmmm, that's exactly why we did this place the way we did, kiddo -- for you guys, for us, for the whole team. They love it.

The boys and I felt indescribably decadent sitting on the futon while the installers worked. But what else could we do? At one point, I nudged James and said, "So, how does it feel to have someone else doing the work on something around here?" He giggled and said it felt really good. He's right. It did feel pretty good.

But I could really have used a bath, and that was the last of the grapefruit soda. I suppose that when I do get one, though, it'll be all the better for the wait. And I can set my cup on those magnificent countertops!

But now I'm pooped, and am off to bed.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Banish That Hillbilly Porch Decor!

I wish I knew how to make nifty accent marks, but hey, who needs to use them when you've also used the word "hillbilly" in the same sentence?

Today we cleared off the front porch. It's not that we use it, er, rather that's been the problem. We first used it as the construction debris holding cell - both bathrooms ended up on the porch until the construction dumpster we rented could be delivered. Unsightly, but functional. Also, perfectly obvious that this is "construction trash", not... you know, the other kind. Then we used it as a staging area for large appliances that had no home yet, for splitting kindling, and for setting the trash somewhere other than the foyer. Again, functional, but growing increasingly unattractive.

Fast forward seven weeks... and ya know, while the toilets and forty tons of plaster and tile have been removed many days past, the washing machine (not a trashed one, but mine) is sitting there, looking quite at home. We've got Ben's cooler sitting out there, too, some fire bricks, the grill, remnants of a horrible trash day episode I'd rather forget, a few other miscellaneous things, stray wood, an axe, and a plethora of pine cones (because no, since you must ask, I cannot start a fire like a normal person and Zorak won't let me rip the paper off the insulation even though it clearly says it will burn... so, the boys collect pine cones and when they've dried on the porch, I use them like mini-bombs to jumpstart the fire in the mornings). But I digress...

The porch had gone from clearly construction trash status to borderline "someone's gonna post this on one of those shame sites" status. And while it bothered us, let's face it, we've had other things to contend with. As long as one could get in and back out without inflicting arterial damage to one's person, it was easy to ignore.

But today - *poof* Like magic, the front porch has gone from slightly imposing and creepy to bright and fresh and "hey, we can hang out here and look for stars". Ooooo. OK, it wasn't magic. We just all got out there and put things where they belonged, swept, and sorted. That was worth the whopping half hour it took, wasn't it? Sadly, yes, it was. I'm just ashamed that it took so long to get around to it. I think Zorak will enjoy the difference when he comes home tomorrow and pulls up to a home that looks lived in rather than squatted in.

The wood was delivered and set far enough away that if we don't use all of it by spring, it won't be an organic beacon for critters to gather near the house over the summer. (Yet, thankfully, slightly uphill, so even I can bring in wood when necessary- just push it with my feet, if I have to. Yay. It's the small things.)

Tomorrow is countertop day! Yippee! Guess I ought to remove the chipboard and mdf we've been using since Christmas night...

The boys had their semi-annual bath tonight. OK, I'm joking. And I realized immediately after writing it that after describing the front porch, I probably shouldn't joke about things like that. Ah, well, it's a weird world. Anyhow, all that just to say it was a normal day. A nice day. A productive day, and a wonderful day. The boys all piled on John's bed for ten minutes of quiet reading time. They just wanted to be together. So I added time to their regular reading time and split it in half - first half together, second half in their own beds. (They do need that alone time, as well - not touching anyone, not talking to anyone - to help unwind a bit). We read stories. Everyone needed water. Random bathroom trips. I know this isn't what every mother envisions for the ultimate bedtime routine, but it feels very good. I'm thankful to have these boys to read to and bring water to, and even to remind for the umpteenth time not to dawdle in the bathroom at bedtime. This whole experience wouldn't be the same without them. And I'm thankful.

Zorak just walked in, kissed me, and said, "Boy, it feels really good to step onto a finished surface." Yes, I'm thankful. And if the weather's nice over the weekend, we can picnic on the front porch.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

WOOHOO - Wood!

We broke down and bought a cord of wood to be delivered to the house. The delivery date was "sometime this week", so we've been waiting it out and watching our current supply dwindle (did I tell y'all that story?) The guy just called and will be here in about an hour! YAY!

And as an added bonus, it's been so lovely here yesterday, through the night, and today, that we haven't needed a fire for the first time since we moved in. I can clean the wood stove out. Yahoo!

There's sheetrock on one wall of the living room now, thanks to Zorak. Insulation in the dining room, and paint in the hallway today. I didn't think about texturing the rest of the bathroom before I painted the hallway, though, so that's going to have to wait a few hours, but it'll be done and ready to prime tonight. Oh. How. Thrilling.

And wood! Yay!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Slowing Down a Bit

Well, it was bound to happen. I saw it coming, but I'm still not happy about it. I have an inner control freak to feed, you know. But here it is, and today about all I accomplished was picking up the kitchen faucet and general domestic work. I'm sure Zorak is starting to Suspect that I'm malingering. But I'm not, really. Physically, I feel great, other than the normal third trimester aches and pinches. The problem is my head. My head's just a little fuzzy. It's as if I've broken my mental fine tuning knob and can't. quite. see. the next thing to do.

I realized this morning, as I cleaned up the third puppy puddle, relegated the middle boy to cleaning up the styrofoam he'd shredded with a stick all over the dining room (All by myself? Yes, dear, all by yourself, just like you made that mess in the first place *smile*), pointed out to the eldest child that if he had been picking things up off the floor like he was *supposed to be doing* he wouldn't have ground that orange slice into the rug in his room, tracked the trail of spilled egg nog from the kitchen sink back to the eldest son's boot (he has no peripheral vision, I'm convinced of it), steer-roped the youngest child for the umpteenth time to try to get the snotsicles under control (drawback to homeschooling: he hasn't been sick enough to become a proficient nose blower yet), and kicked that stoopid Thomas toy for the fourth time in as many minutes...

... that I needed to set some goals and get on them, or Zorak was going to come home to find the children and the dog locked outside and me in bed with a book and my own box of tissues.

So I set five goals for today:
1 To the Pet Depot for supplies (ie - something for the puppy to chew on other than Smidge's feet, no wonder the child thinks he's going to be eaten)
2 To Home Depot for a kitchen sink (so the installers can drill the sink out for it while they're here and we don't have to mess up a perfectly nice sink ourselves)
3 Wire outlets for the living room (Zorak got off early today because he went in at some unholy hour, and he's ready to sheetrock those two walls)
4 Hang insulation in the dining room, and if I have time, wire those outlets, too.
5 Make turkey soup and pumpkin bread for supper (the carcass is simmering now)

I accomplished #'s 1, 2, and 5. That was it. Zorak put in the last two rows of insulation while James and I wired outlets, but it wasn't ready when he got home this afternoon. The soup was tasty, though. That's gotta count for something. If it doesn't, then it ought to. And I did throw together pumpkin muffins for the boys' afternoon snack and a loaf of pumpkin bread for breakfast tomorrow.

My children need me right now, and ironically, I need a nanny. Not for them, for me. In the professional world, they refer to them as Personal Assistants, or even Executive Secretaries. But they're nannies: responsible, organized adults who take care of, run herd on, tend to, and otherwise assist those of us who just can't get that grip on the next thing. I should have plopped my butt down on Santa's lap last week and asked for one. What's he going to say? No? (Well, yeah, but that's beside the point.)

Anyhow, that was the day today. Pretty mundane, boring stuff, unless egg nog spills excite you. In that case, it was a banner day.

Oh. Smidge. My wee Smidge. I spotted him tonight, sitting on the top bunk with his back to the ladder, head bobbing side to side like he was at a Raffi concert. Spider sense went off (a bit late, might want to get my batteries checked) so I called and asked him what he's doing. He flipped around with the biggest deer-in-the-headlights look I've ever seen, and both cheeks completely puffed out. It seems he has discovered James' stocking stash. The little nutmonkey waits for James to be otherwise engaged, then hightails it up the ladder to pillage the loot. I have no idea how long this has been going on, but at least when I asked him if he was eating James' candy, he nodded happily and 'fessed up. Tomorrow I will reimburse James from Smidge's stocking and James gets the fun task of trying to find a place to hide his things from his wily and stunningly stealthy-for-a-2-year-old baby brother. Ah, the joys of being the eldest sibling.

I sure wish some of y'all would get blogging regularly again - I don't get nearly the RDA of relaxing front porch time lately. ;-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Coming Down, Posting Pictures, and Getting Back to Work

I don't wanna get back to work!! OK, whine over.

We're down to just a few things in the living room and dining room and then they will be done for now. I have 2 or 3 weeks left until this baby arrives, and Zorak is beginning to get panicky, so he worked his tail off today on the wiring in those two rooms. I get to insulate them tomorrow and wire the outlets, then we'll hang the drywall on them when he gets home in the evening. The holidays are over.

Next on the agenda is the laundry closet. Hauling all of our clothing to the laundromat once a week or so is: (a) too expensive to make sense, and (b) too much of a test of my creative mothering abilities to stand at this point. Before this month, the last time I'd done my wash in public, I was single and hungover. I can honestly say it's much more fun in that condition. You can take a book and your Hi-C/Mountain Dew remedy and just hibernate near the warmth of the dryers and wait for the world (and the wash) to stop spinning. When you're sober and trailing three children, it's a whole new world. Not a pretty world, either. So. I need a laundry closet pronto. :-) But Zorak says we need to have more things actually in a finished state before moving on to another project. *snort* Fine. Be all organized and logical about it. One of us has to, at this point, I suppose.

We will have counters tomorrow, Tuesday, or Wednesday. Totally depends on who cancels or not over the next couple of days. The wonderful Corian folks have us on the top of their cancellation fill-in list, so if any spot opens in Northern Alabama, it's ours. Bwaaahaaahaaaaa!!! Of course, that means the boys will be dragged to Home Depot tomorrow to buy a kitchen faucet before their wee little stomachs can digest whatever gruel I throw at them at o'dark hundred. Wonderful way to start the day when there are Hot Wheels tracks and train sets beckoning to you in a warm, comfy home.

The boys and I have so enjoyed this break. It's been fun to be normal again (relatively speaking, I know). It's been nice to get to bed a bit early and read, read, read until the boys slowly drop off, one prolonged blink at a time. It's been fun to sit with them and talk with them over mid-morning snacks, to run errands that take them nowhere near Lowe's or the local hardware store. I'm a bit sad that the break is over, but as the caffeine kicks in, I'm ramping up and will awake tomorrow with the requisite enthusiasm to dive in.

Zorak, not so much. It's difficult for him to block out the wiring and empty studs and just read something non-tehnical. He can't justify spending the entire day on the futon, sipping coffee, eating pie and reading quietly. Drives him nuts, when there is work to be done. I admire his work ethic, and that is a large, large part (ok, the majority) of what has brought us to this point. It's good. It's just so... foreign to me. I have the power to block it all out and pretend it's normal to do things by extension cord. I keep one tucked into my hip pocket, as a matter of fact, just so I always have power when I need it. (The trailing cord also makes it easy for the boys to find me when I get wedged somewhere and begin shouting for help. See? If you just remain adaptable...) But no. So he took the required day off yesterday from all work. He cooked, played, talked, laughed, and awoke this morning All Business, wiring and masonry bits and such. I'm thankful for him. He is the reason we will one day have a home we can allow visitors to enter without getting an OSHA pass.

So, since tomorrow it's back to work, I'll inundate you with Cute Kid Pics from the past couple of days. :-) A word of caution: so far, this has been the Christmas of Truly Bad Photographs. I don't know if it's the camera, or the photographers, but Zorak and I laughed hysterically while we looked through the pictures of the last few days. Some are just bad. Some are unintentionally hilarious (and still bad). And some... we can't figure out what happened. Like the blurry, late '60's photography we've got going on with a few shots. Dunno what's up. Sorry.

Breeding Elves aside, what James really, truly, deeply wanted this year was a first edition Buck Rogers something or other collection. And, since Santa doesn't shop at the used bookstore, but we do, he managed to get it. ;-) This rather fuzzy Big Foot sighting, er, shot of James, shows him in a state of pure ecstasy upon opening that gift from his brother.

The rest of the day, he looked a lot like this...











When he didn't look like this...













Smidge opened only one gift before noon...














That was all he needed.

John, while enjoying the hot wheels tracks and his copy of Dragonology, really has found a soul mate in Balto. This is the sitting version of what he's looked like the past two days. The mobile shots look like NASCAR race photos taken with a very slow camera. Lots of activity around here. This dog and these boys have been inseparable.
















Zorak took this shot of the family hanging out on the futon this evening, just after supper (please pardon the fact that my children are filthy - it's the stocking chocolate and puppy spit combo, I think, but it did come off with a little hot water and an SOS pad.) The dog is technically on Smidge's lap, with his head on my leg. He blends into my sweater, but he's there.












And so, we're off. Kiss those babies, and enjoy your Forever.
~Dy

At The End of The Day

It's nearly nine, and I think we will all be out by nine-thirty. Smidge has been asleep since just before our company turned off the driveway onto the main road. Zorak is asleep on the couch between the boys. He has a cup of coffee in his hand. It's full. Fortunately, it's no longer hot. I tried to get it from him, but he has an iron grip. So I tried to wake him and explain the situation - you are sound asleep on the couch with a full cup of coffee upright in your hands. Without waking, he mumbled, "pretty amazing, isn't it?" But he didn't let go of the cup. The boys are hanging on only to play one round each of the Lord of the Beans Game and then they're off to bed. And I... in about twenty minutes, I'm going to curse not getting a bigger fridge as I try to stuff leftovers into every nook and cranny I can find. But other than that, I plan to put the food away, let the puppy out, stoke the fire and collapse into a deep, richly earned comatose state.

****

OK, I lied. It's now nine thirty, and while the dishes have been cleared, the fridge stocked, the kitchen tidied, the dog put to bed, and the fire stoked, I'm no longer tired. Go figure. Zorak finally migrated to bed, and he stoked the fire for me before he retired. Yay him. Now he's warming my side of the bed (a serious benefit of marriage, provided I can move him over in order to enjoy it when I head to bed, myself).

James is out cold. He feels better, but sounds disturbingly like Darth Vader when he breathes. I left a light on so it won't scare Smidge if he wakes.

Balto kept escaping his box (new trick, that didn't take long) to go sleep under John's bed, and John is thinking of ways to get me to allow Balto to sleep under his bed. (There is one way, and one way only - the dog must know that we do not run an indoor/outdoor restroom facility. Period. Until then, he sleeps where he must alert me when he's gotta go. Still, I do admire John's tenacity.) After retrieving the dog from under John's bed for the third time (yes, it was as humorous an image as you think, and yes, I got stuck more than once), I moved the dog's bed into the boys' room. That seems to have mollified his desire to be with the rest of the pups, per se. Either that, or the dog has decided the direct route will not work with me and has agreed simply to pretend he'll sleep in his bed - just long enough for me to leave the room, anyway. That'll work.

We had so much fun preparing food today. We learned that the convection feature on the electric oven ROCKS. It cooked an 18# turkey in an hour and a half at 350. I checked on it when I added something to the oven and, well, the thing looked done. Not "coming along nicely", but "done, ready to eat". The popup thingy had popped, too (not that those are accurate, but I was surprised). I told Zorak that it looked done. He said there's no way it's done. We had a weird exchange:

I poked it - clear juices (and copious amounts of them, too) flowed from the fully cooked turkey. "It's done. The juices run clear."

He comes into the kitchen, smirking. "Where did you poke it?" Zorak asks.

"Shyah, alright Mr. SmartyChef, you poke it and see for yourself."

He pokes it. Then he pokes it in several other spots.

Pause for dramatic effect.

"You are so weird," he says. "It's done. Take it out."

Thanks, Honey.

Well, anyhow, that threw off our entire plan. We have never had so much going on in the kitchen at one time. Normally it takes six to eight hours to get everything baked, fried, and steamed. Not today. Although it did take us forever to get done, that was more due to our lack of preparation and not having any countertops yet. It is a neat sensation, though, when it dawns on you that you can put the whole turkey in the small oven to keep it warm. And the dressing, too. At one point, the big oven held two large pans of dressing and three pies. Ok, that's not something you can do everyday. Ohhhhh, wait, yes, we can!! Cool! We just have to get used to it, now, and learn to plan cooking days more efficiently. But how totally fun.

We made the turkey and dressing (wheat-free and absolutely delicious dressing, even for wheat-eaters - all the bread products and pastries were wheat free and they turned out wonderfully), sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, giblet gravy, ambrosia, cranberry sauce, corn, green beans, cornbread, biscuits, pumpkin pies and pecan pies. The pies got a tad overdone due to our inability to learn from our mistakes (yeah, if it'll do that honkin' bird in an hour and a half, the pies aren't going to need anywhere near the recommended time... remember that next time, Dy.) Still, it was all edible and I don't think anybody went hungry. So, that's good.

The boys have declared this The Best Christmas Ever. Zorak and I agree. We had a lovely, quiet morning with our children and their joy. We enjoyed the many blessings we have in the forms of health, friendship, love, laughter, understanding and security. I have to tell you about my wonderful Christmas gift, but would like to include a photo of it, so that'll have to wait until tomorrow. It makes me teary-eyed, though, and it's beautiful. Best of all, the boys made it themselves. It's awesome.

And on that note, I'm going to go see if anybody else blogged on Christmas night. Have a lovely day tomorrow, and as always,

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Merry, Merry Christmas

Oh, what a wonderful day this is! It's three o'clock, the pies are nearly done. Ben & Claudia and their boys will be here soon (I hope), and we've had a magnificent day. I hope you are all enjoying your Christmas, too.

Smidge came to our room this morning around four, and in his disoriented state, could have sworn there was a dog-dog in the room. Oh, no, honey, I've only been asleep for an hour. There's no dog. But LOOK, Daddy's here and he's warm and snuggly and pleasegobacktosleepnow. Fortunately, he's young and trusting and he did go back to sleep.

The puppy (Balto, by the way, it's official) had been moved from the living room to our room after the fourth bout of whining. Turns out he doesn't make a sound unless he has to pee. Very cool, although it took me a bit to catch on. Yeah, I'm slow sometimes.

Around six thirty, I heard a wee, awe-filled voice heralding the news.

"Mom, there's a puppy in the house. *pregnant pause* Santa brought me a puppy!"

I thought from the tone and softness of the voice that it was John, but when I opened my eyes, there was James, looking every bit the small little boy I haven't seen in him in so long. He was wonder-struck and delighted. John, too, came in to proclaim the news. He, too, was just as awed with the puppy. Smidge sat bolt upright and screeched, "DOG-DOG!" (which is just one word when you are two).

Balto hung out with us while we opened presents, and then when Zorak and I headed to the kitchen and the boys to their room to set up their Hot Wheels Tracks, Balto ditched us big folks and plopped down among the boys. He has claimed his pack, and he is content. That he recognized that relationship gave Zorak and I warm fuzzies of gigantic proportions.

The boys have learned that as soon as Balto awakes, you load him up and take him outside. He will do his thing. We will love on him. John then gives him a dog biscuit (this puppy is going to be obese once he catches on to that correlation). Life is good, and the floor stays dry. *whew* They let him sleep when he's tired, and give him space to come to them as he chooses. They are gentle and sweet toward him. He trembled and whimpered in his sleep this afternoon, and James gently stroked his fur and whispered consolations into his ears. Balto calmed down immediately. I oozed into a puddle of emotion and water in the kitchen.

Balto's no bigger than a football, yet Smidge is convinced that when the puppy prances up to you, it is going to eat you. The only thing for it is to yell 'noooooooooooooo' as you hightail it to the nearest adult, and scamper up the adult's leg if you can. Really, it's best that way. Just ask him. We feel like jackasses for laughing, but it's hilarious to watch. (And yes, for the record, we do hold and comfort Smidge and help distract the pup. No serious therapy bills looming from these incidents.)

The End of the Evening

What a beautiful day. I spent several hours with ammonia and 0000 steel wool on the windows in the main living space. Funny how different things look through them now. Um, ewww. Ah, well, like I said, it wouldn't have made much difference before, anyhow. But now it's great. Someday I'll go outside and do that part, too. (Maybe.) The boys wrapped presents and sang songs. We enjoyed the next few bits of the interactive nativity. We ate like kings and cleaned like scullery maids - and the end result is quite nice.

The boys, unfortunately, were then hit with some kind of Ick. It came on this afternoon and laid them out like Tunguska. You know they don't feel well when they voluntarily crawl in bed for a nap. It's Christmas Eve! There are presents to wrap! Cookies to bake! And yet they napped. Poor little guys. We woke them for supper, let them open Polar Express and we all watched it together, snuggled under fleece blankets. They enjoyed it, and then they headed back to bed. All three have been out cold since hitting the pillows. I hope the morning finds them feeling better. On the upside, the Ick has already made its rounds through Ben & Claudia's place, so they can still come for supper tomorrow.

Zorak is en route to pick up the pup as I type. We are so thoroughly excited. The lady who gave him to us emailed the picture she'd taken in the parking lot, so, until we can post photos of the boys and their dog, here's a preview of a man and his dog. Ohhhhh, this is fun!

I suppose I should go wrap presents. Or finish cleaning the kitchen. Or do something productive. But it feels so nice not to have anything truly pressing to do at the moment. When we got this first bedroom into a sustainable condition, we were able to move the plastic sheeting that's been hanging in the foyer and the hallway entries into the living room. It's now hanging only over the doorways to the last three bedrooms. We have reclaimed the hallway, the first bedroom and the main bath, and it feels so very good. It feels so spacious. The wood stove is earning its keep, as well; it is WARM in the bathroom, and as a pregnant woman in her third trimester, I can honestly say that is a Very Happy Feeling for me.

Thank you for your comments and uplifting thoughts. They mean ever so much as we settle in here and begin the process of putting down roots. This is Forever. It is ever changing, always dynamic, unexpected and astounding. It won't always be easy, but it hasn't ever been. Yet it's always, always good.

Kiss those babies and have a Very Merry Christmas,
~Dy

Merry Christmas Eve

So last night, in addition to getting the computer up and running, I got to sleep - for the first time in nearly a month - in our own bed! Oh, talk about refreshed and happy! I love and appreciate the futon, but I think I know why we found it sitting out - the thing sinks ever so slightly in the middle, so when five people pile on in the morning, woe is the mama who rolls deeply into the ditch in the middle and gets buried by the masses of bodies. I awoke this morning on a flat, level plane. Mmmmm, Merry Christmas, indeed.

Zorak and I are like a couple of kids at, well, at Christmas. We are totally psyched. We'd decided a while back that this would be The Year For A Puppy. (Did ya hear that, Aunt Bonnie?) James has had to have his dreams of a family pet put off repeatedly, as each new stage turned out to be not-what-we'd-expected. He's been so good about it. John doesn't really think it will ever happen at this point. Smidge? Well, hey, he's two, so we'll just have to find another way to mess him up later on.

So we began our search for a lab mix, or a coondog mix. Whatever it was, we knew it needed to be a mutt, a male, and a puppy. It needed to need a home full of love and adventure and security. And it needed to be Just The Right Dog. As of yesterday, we had begun to give up hope of finding him. But then, as Zorak turned to leave the pound, he met a lady with a puppy... a mutt puppy, an abandoned puppy she'd found in her yard, a little mellow male puppy. He'd been refused at the shelter because they are full, and Zorak, who has a very strange (yet positive) effect on women, ended up leaving with the puppy, toys from another woman and her daughter, a photo of him with the puppy, and some email addresses. Someone mentioned a "Christmas Miracle", and I'm pretty sure someone got teary-eyed. To be honest, I can't even imagine how that one played out. Those things don't happen to me. But they do to Zorak, and Our Puppy has found us.

He took the pup to Ben & Claudia's to stay until this evening. I went over last night to visit with him, and left absolutely floored that Zorak had found Just The Right Dog at Just The Right Moment. He's perfect. He's going to be big. He's got a great personality. I am in love. Zorak is in love. The boys are going to be completely in love. And what's so great about all this love is that we have the space, the time, the resources, to spend on this little guy in welcoming him into the family and making him a part of our lives. How absolutely cool.

LB asked me if I was sure I wanted to take on a new puppy and a new baby within just a few weeks of each other, and I started laughing (perhaps a bit maniacally). It's not like we haven't passed into the realm of the absurd several months ago. Might as well get all the big changes over at once, right? Besides, this will lessen the boys' disappointment in not getting the infrared nightvision goggles (John) or the pair of breeding elves (James) they'd asked Santa for.

My only concern at the moment is that we are going to throw Smidge into a series of epileptic fits from which he may not recover. Everything this child sees sends him into spasms of joy and pleasure. The lights, the ornaments, the cookies, the trees. Even the plain, undecorated trees will get him quivering. Throw a strand of lights on it and he's visibly vibrating. Break out another strand and he's paralyzed with the trembles. I don't know that he's going to make it through Christmas morning without going into a four hour grand mal fit. I have never, in my life, seen someone enjoy the sights and sounds of Christmas the way Smidge does. But this year, I know how he feels.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy