Right now.
Overwhelmed.
With how time has flown by this year.
By how soon we will meet this new little mister.
By how quickly the days and weeks have melted together creating a wonderful sticky mess of memories that are all so good I don't want to forget them.
I'm currently in my 34th week of pregnancy. WOW. Seriously. Just wow. That just went by so incredibly fast. My days and weeks have been filled with kicks and waves and hiccups and heartburn. With Taekwondo and swim lessons and to and from school. With sweet times with friends who ignore my nesting, hermit tendencies and force me out into the sunlight into the land of the living.
Things not to forget.
How Henry is in this phase that he wants to talk to every. single. person. we encounter. And tell them his life story. (I have NO idea where his tendency to over share comes from....hmmm) It's both completely awesome to see him come out of his shell and also rather mortifying with what he chooses to share. He currently LOVES all games. Daddy taught him chess, I taught him Uno. He's already asking for me to teach him Skipbo. He is obsessed with my belly. Kissing it, patting it, hugging me tight. Sometimes I can feel over touched by him, smothered almost. Especially when he runs his hand under my dress in Target trying to pat the belly, or how he wraps his whole body around mine while I'm trying to push a full cart of groceries through Fresh&Easy. I'm trying to be patient, soaking up his love and savoring his desire to be involved and present. He is ecstatic over having another brother. He loves to try and come up with names for him with me. Even if they're names like Chuck or Cheerios or a jumble of letters that only make sense to him. More then once has asked if our next baby will be a girl. To which I tell him he has to talk to daddy about that one. I'm sad for him that he won't get the sister he so desired. I'm sad for all of us.
Ben is his lovely three-year-oldness. Mister independent to the core. Doing everything slowly, methodically and having very little patience when things don't go so right. Asking the same questions over and over but never actually listening to my answers, hence the re-questioning and re-questioning. OY. He's obsessed with puzzles, doing the same ones over and over each day. I've begrudgingly accepted the hideous orange foot shaped flip flops he wears every single day because every other pair of shoes he owns get screamed at and thrown because "they're just not right!" for some mysterious reason. Joy. But in the middle of his very trying and exhausting behavior are these beautiful waves of sweetness. Complete and utter adorable dimples and smiles and conversations and snuggles. It makes everything else melt away. Even if for the moment. He loves to talk about the baby. Whacking rather than patting my belly. He asks all the time when the baby is coming out and loves to say that just like daddy, he's a little brother and a big brother. If I'm being honest, I'm the most nervous for him in the coming transition. He's been my baby for quite awhile.
And this new little mister of mine? Goodness I wish I knew his name. There are a few we're kicking around, but none seem right. With Henry, I pretty much knew going into the hospital that if he was a boy he'd be Henry. The name just gave me warm fuzzies. Even if Benjamin had originally been my first pick, Henry was the name I knew he'd be. With Ben we did NOT have a boy name decided on going into the hospital because I really had convinced myself he was girl. Scott had liked Miles, I had liked Simon. As soon as the doctor said he was boy I felt a wash run down my body from head to toe and felt Benjamin. As though God himself whispered it out into my soul. I'm praying that God will again, name this Child. I mean, he already knows him and every hair on his head. So it's not too much to ask to have him tattoo his name somewhere on him for us to find when he's born right? Or a tag in his ear like a cabbage patch doll? I kid, I kid.
No but seriously. A name tattoo would be awesome.
This little mister is fiesty. A mover and shaker. Small for his gestational age, just as his brothers were. But strong and healthy. Today in our last ultrasound he showed his stubborn streak. Refusing to show us his face. His hands holding on tight to his toes, covering his whole face. Adorable stinker bug. I mean, playing with your toes?!!! CUTEST EVER! I love him. I love him so ridiculously much. Am I nervous? Terrified actually. I've had one too many encounters with newborns lately that have simultaneously made me extremely excited to meet and snuggle and get to know my little man and at the same time, terrified of what three children will look like. How I will survive this summer with a hot sweaty nursing newborn and stir crazy hot sweaty older brothers. And a hot sweaty hormonal mama. But I will, as always, survive on prayer. And iced coffee.
Some pictures for pictures sake.
And yes, I know. I'm carrying small. I don't know what the deal with that is it being my third and all. And while I'm enjoying the smallish weight gain, I am slightly bugged by all the "you're hardly showing"comments.
Uh, yeah, I am showing.
Thankyouverymuch.
19 weeks, and right before I could no longer stand not being a blonde. The hombre was fun. But not me.
24 weeks in NEW YORK CITY BABY. 30th birthday trip forthewin. Maybe I should have blogged about that? hmm.... I sorta fail at blogging this year.
30 weeks and an uber fun day in the OC with my MJ. Shopping. Eating. Fried pickles and bottled soda. And a burger so pretentious that we couldn't even substitute different cheese. Very OC. Good times.
33 weeks, and again, by the fab Ginnie and again, in a freak rainstorm. A completely awesome rainstorm. Annnnnnnd this picture just makes me laugh. Ginnie said, "ok everybody be all Vogue!" HILARIOUS. More to come...
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