MollyMadonna.com

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home improvement. (27)

I think I’m on a home improvement roller coaster. Prior to three years ago, I pretty much loathed the idea of walking around a big box home improvement store. I didn’t understand them, and I had no desire to. I couldn’t equate Menard’s or Lowe’s with a glorious place like Target, despite the similarities in variety and magnitude. And then, we bought a house.

Wake. Up. Call. For the first time in my life, Menard’s suddenly became a destination. Jason and I spent weekend upon weekend running back and forth from our new address to the mecca of home improvement stores, and every time, we were suddenly able to solve problems–big and little, all around the house. Come Spring, we made trips for dirt (weird, because the house came with dirt…and grass…), and we bought flowers and plants and more grass. And we made home feel like home, one car load after another, and have been doing so ever since. I’ve really grown to appreciate the phenomenon.

So this weekend, we made our way to Lowe’s for a few items to finish off the nursery, and I was looking forward to the trip. That is, until we got there. Nothing else in the world will make a home improvement store more harrowing than being 36 weeks pregnant. Unless of course you’re more pregnant than that. Do you know how BIG that store is? Or how hard it is to memorize which aisles contain electrical, or organizational or lighting-type items? Every row is like running a mini-marathon, and then, you have to go back (because you’ve forgotten something, of course) and do it all over again. Inevitably, time stands still when you’re in a place like Lowe’s or Menards. And when you exit the double doors and enter the real world again, hours have passed by like minutes, and you’ve quite possibly whittled away your life savings on a collection of switch plate covers, random hardware and duct tape.

When you’re 36 weeks pregnant, the icing on the cake is that you’ve developed a waddle and need to lower yourself into the car to go home.

So I’m back on the roller coaster again. I can’t honestly say that I don’t appreciate the one destination where you can pick up any and every item you’d need for your home, but I came within inches of employing one of those buzzy little carts with the basket and awkward handles this weekend–and that’s just a bit too close for comfort. I’m pregnant. I’d like not to consider it a condition…Alright, maybe. Just this once, I’ll make an exception. But only once. After all, anyone who gains more than a quarter of their bodyweight in less than nine months is entitled to a little break, right? Good grief. I guess we’ll see how I feel about it all once our weekend shopping trips involve a newborn. My love/hate relationship here might not come to a halt for a few more months. Or years.

In summary, if there is one, I’m thankful (on most days) for home improvement stores. Still, I’m far more thankful for what happens at home after the decisions and purchases and workouts are all complete.

implementing our latest procurements tonight…

mm

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the new normal. (28)

The big question these days seems to be “How much longer do you have?” It used to be, “How far along are you?,” but now, there are just a few telltale signs that naturally reframe the question. I can’t hide them with my coat, my shopping cart or my purse (although I did pull that fast one on the waiter last night…), and I don’t want to. I’m too excited that the answer is officially “4 weeks” everywhere I go. 4 weeks! That’s 28 days from now–or less than a month. And it’s a bit surreal.

I told Jason today that I have no trouble seeing him as a dad to a newborn–I imagine him that way all of the time as of late. And I have no problem envisioning actually delivering the baby, or how we’ll spend days out and about when he or she is a few months old. For some reason though, I’ve hardly spent time imagining what it will be like getting to know the teeny tiny person that we’re actually going to be bringing home. Maybe it’s because the idea of being “mom” feels really natural, and when I think in those terms, I see myself pushing a stroller, running around the park and juggling grocery bags, a car seat and a baby. But the space between the hospital and let’s say, a few weeks into Summer, are kind of blurry to me at the moment. I’ll admit this now, because even thinking about the fact helps me to begin to actually process that a very new, very dependent, very amazing baby will be with me 24 hours a day in the flesh, instead of inside my belly.

Wow. How life is about to change.

This is just about the most delightful thing I can possibly imagine–the day when all of our preparations and expectations turn into a new reality and we get to learn what it means to have this blossoming life in our hands. The weight of responsibility feels huge, but the joy of it all (as I imagine it) will be too great to miss. And the fact that that day is no longer far off in the distance, but rather, likely to land on a date I can see clearly on the calendar, is a beautiful one.

Tonight, as we continue to make preparations at home and in our hearts, the little one is coming ever closer to the light of this world…I can hardly believe I get to be a witness to the miracle!

counting as patiently as possible,

mm

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“whaddya say, preggo?” (29)

In honor of Jason’s birthday today, we went to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants to celebrate. Without giving away our destination entirely, I’d describe the place as a “fine dining establishment” along the lakeshore in our hometown. It’s not somewhere we visit frequently, but in year’s past, I spent many a summer evening waiting tables there (and it’s been a go-to spot throughout our entire relationship–from our first date to the night we were engaged to birthdays and anniversaries). The view is lovely, the food, always impeccable, and most often, the service, personable and attentive.

Tonight, we enjoyed a delicious meal and naturally, each other’s company. Our server, however, quickly made himself worthy of a blog post–and contributed tremendously to my “list of things not to say to a pregnant woman.” I record this in jest (for the most part), and I have to laugh. People can be so funny when there’s a belly involved.

At first, he came to take our drink order and I picked something off of the “zero proof beverages” menu. This seems like an obvious choice for someone like me–my baby bump now drawing the attention of the greater population on most days. “Dave,” as we’ll call him, made some wise crack about me forgetting my ID and wondered why I wasn’t ordering an alcoholic beverage. The look on his face was priceless when I leaned back in my chair, gave the belly a pat and said, “I’m nearly to term. I’m thinking I’ll hold off for the night.” This didn’t bother me in the least, but I think it bothered Dave. He was already a bit awkward, and he only grew more so throughout dinner. At one point, he shared a story about “two chicks” he once served at another establishment, later used choice language at the table next to ours (he seemed to know them), and then, almost literally, put the icing on the cake.

After our dinner plates had been cleared, Dave came back to the table, dessert menus in hand, and without hesitation said to me (and I quote), “Whaddya say, preggo? Are we having dessert tonight?” Really? Seriously? First you didn’t notice that I was pregnant at all, and now you’re calling me “preggo” without hesitation? I can’t make this stuff up. Imagine my delight when I could say, “No, sir. I ordered a cake and it’s waiting for us at home.” Insert polite, fake smile. I was already excited about J’s cake and the rest of his birthday celebration, but this moment made it all the sweeter. Not to mention the fact that staying for dessert might have meant for more bizarre conversation, and let’s be honest, I’m a little too outspoken to have remained overly tactful for much longer. We paid the bill and made our way home, laughing about the oddity of our experience and chalking it up to another great, awkward pregnancy story to tell. At least dinner was delicious, and we had this fabulous cake (courtesy of Second Floor Bakery) waiting for us when we got back to the house:

outside, j's bmw. inside, chocolate truffle cake with strawberry filling 🙂

looks just like it! (but more edible)

3D side view mirror. sweet!

30 years. and many more, love. many, many more!

All joking aside, I’m so thankful that there’s so much to celebrate as Jason welcomes a new year. We’ve had a great day together, and now, we’re going to dive into birthday cake bliss with a side of milk, and a few more sweet moments of birthday to share.

preggo, zero proof and married to a classic,

mm

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hiccups. (30)

It’s a little hard to believe that this is the last post in the 30s–hard to believe because the days just keep flying by, and also a little ironic, because as this countdown exits the 30s tomorrow, Jason enters them. There are so many things to be celebrating right now, and tonight, as April 1st waits in the wings with a mere 20 minutes to go, I’m thankful for all of the indications of life and celebration around me.

After childbirth class tonight, Jason and I met up with friends and sat around the table swapping stories and a good deal of laughter. Topics of conversation ranged anywhere from work life to kids to farmer’s co-ops to baby gear, and all the while, the little one moved around like a champ in my belly as if to say, “Mom! Mom! Mom! I’m here! I’m coming soon! I love it when you laugh!” [Sometimes when this happens, I can’t help but sit back and just rest in gratitude.] And all I could think in the moment was, “Jason is winding down a hills and valleys kind of year surrounded by great people in a great town, where we’re all having a great time…and he’s going to be a dad in a matter of weeks…and could the start of 30 really be any better than this?!”

I haven’t asked him, and maybe he’d have a different perspective, but it’s impossible to ignore that there’s a fresh start coming in our lives very soon–and in a way, Jason’s begins in less than half an hour with a new milestone and a fresh page. I think it’s a beautiful thing.

As our evening progressed tonight, I realized that I hadn’t blogged yet today–right about the same time that the baby starting hiccuping (as it is wont to do on most evenings). And I realized that hiccups–like forgetting something you’ve committed to doing, like the baby has perfected before even being born, or like some years of our lives that challenge us in ways we didn’t expect, are often a great opportunity to take pause and reflect. Although exasperating in the moment, they don’t last forever. Instead, they cause us to take a deep breath, to reconsider or reconfigure, to catch ourselves and take notice of what’s happening.

It feels like life has been abundant with “hiccup” type moments in this season, but when I really think about it, I’m mostly grateful for all of them. We’ve learned a lot, grown a lot, changed a lot and become a lot more of who we are because of (or perhaps, in spite of) the hiccups we’ve weathered together. And I can’t wait to continue celebrating this reality as Jason welcomes another birthday–or as we welcome the newest, greatest part of our growing family oh-so-soon.

I’m sure there will be plenty of hiccups in this new chapter, too, but they’ll refine us and teach us and bring us to spaces where we laugh and sit back and acknowledge just how great the ride has been anyway.

jumping beans in my belly 🙂

mm

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baseline. (31)

In the midst of everyday life and work and responsibility, there is this countdown–a ticking of the clock until the day our baby is born, and with it, my growing need to rifle through details, cross t’s and dot i’s. We’ve somehow arrived at the one month mark, not knowing what God and nature have planned for the next four or five weeks of our lives. This reality is humbling and exciting, and also sobering in a lot of ways. Suddenly, I am aware of every little thing around me in its current state, and I’m also strikingly aware of how I’d like to change it, clean it, refold it, dust it, give it away or throw it out. I know that this is part of the process, and that it’s almost endearing to see how pregnancy and hormones cause us to “nest” in the right timing, but at the moment, it’s honestly just kind of stressing me out.

As the 36 week mark arrives on Saturday, I know that it’s unreasonable to consider anything as set in stone. This is true for our lives everyday, whether we’re pregnant or not, but being within 4 weeks of an actual date on the calendar feels more pressing and real. Along with myths about being able to determine gender by baby’s heart rate or how someone is carrying her “bump,” the thought that first born babies are most often late seems to be among the favorite beliefs of the majority of the Western world. Babies can definitely be “late,” it’s true. But as a general rule, I prefer to think that they’re actually on time, and somehow, we’ve miscalculated nature or the date of conception or how long our little one needs to develop before greeting us. Regardless, I’m a first born and came early–by almost two weeks. A friend delivered her first born last summer, three weeks before he was expected. What we really know about when babies are born is that they come when they’re ready, or they come when we decide that they’re ready and we help them out. The fact about the 36 week mark? Pretty much anything is fair game and would still result in a healthy, happy baby and the birth of a new family unit. And so we wait and wonder.

What I’ve decided is reasonable at this point, as I try not to bury myself in expectations or goals that are out of reach, is to establish some type of a baseline for these next few weeks. There are things that I can maintain that will help me to feel ready for whatever comes, even if our bathrooms aren’t spotless or if all of the pictures we’ve been meaning to hang aren’t quite on the walls. This weekend, the nursery will be as close to done as it can get (with the possible exception of a little artwork..and a baby to make it all worthwhile). From there, my baseline will be a manageable level of order that I think I can live with–dishes done, laundry caught up, dog hair subdued, and piles of mail and extra papers sorted, filed and/or shred. I’ll make the bed. We’ll install the car seat in the car. And when I get particularly antsy, I’ll pack my hospital bag, check and double check lists, and practice the relaxation techniques we’ve been learning for labor and delivery that are sure to help me deal with how un-relaxed I can be about all of these other things.

Hopefully, I’ll arrive in a place where baby can come into this world in a space of peace. I don’t worry about any level of joy going missing in the arrival of the little one, but I surely pray that I can communicate a sense of contentment, calm and grace to the babe as well. I wouldn’t want our precious child meeting us for the first time in any other way.

seeking a baseline, and praying that God will help me to find it–one way or another 🙂

mm