MollyMadonna.com

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Today in Headlines. (65)

For whatever reason, I kept hearing our life in newspaper format as the day went by today. If we were interesting enough to make the paper, I think the front page headlines tomorrow morning would read something like this:

“Wonderful Wednesday Postponed: Family Plans to Resume Original Schedule Next Week”

“Local Family Maxes Out Library Card in Record Haul”

“Tonight’s Menu Shifted to Friday as Local Pizza Establishment Pinch Hits for Dinner”

“Baby Jogger City Mini Deemed Safe and Effective for Use with Children Five and Under”

“Pom Pom and Paper Plate Crafts Entertain Youngsters for Hours”

“Screen Time Limits Removed Until Center for Sane Parents Determines New Guidelines”

“Health Forecast Predicts Overcast Skies for One More Day, Sunnier Outlook Expected Friday”

“Expectant Mom of Three Grateful for Cooler Temps and Gearing Up for 90º Days Ahead”

“Despite All Efforts, Dishes Still Piling Up in Sink Daily”

“Full Pantry Doesn’t Meet Expectations of Students in Grades Two through Five”

“100 Days Posts Getting Trickier for Local Mom: Headlines from Here on Out”

Kidding. Kind of. 35 posts in…1/3 of the way, and my creativity is waning at times. But as I explained to E the other day, to not document these days hardly seems fair after doing so for all of our other babies. And besides, I do so love having a record of these seasons (regardless of whether every day brings a legit blog post or I defer to haikus or headlines to bridge the gap and allow me an earlier bedtime). Both documentation and sleep are important at this stage.

If we did have a newspaper, I think we’d have to call it something really creative to gain readership. I’ll work on that. 😉

Signing off for tonight,

MM

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Sleeping on the Job. (75)

Well, I’ll admit that my energy seems in short supply sometimes lately–I have all of the ambition and vision and not so much of the gusto. I’m sure trying though! I’ll give plenty of things a shot if I can swing them. This baby is busy as a bee in my belly, which is endearing at all hours, and encouraging, too. As I try to figure out baby’s sleep patterns, I’m realizing that they definitely don’t line up with my own. It’ll be so interesting to see whether that holds true after he or she is here.

Overall when resting, I have zero trouble falling asleep. That said, staying asleep is a tall order some nights, and I usually max out of patience with being in bed after about six hours. I’m sure I could use more sleep, but that darn left hip will get me every time. 😉 I know my body is preparing me for the days ahead where sleep is hard to grasp, though it seems like a challenging aspect of nature to help a mom with that process of adjusting even before there’s a newborn needing attention. Wouldn’t it be grand to be able to store up all the sleep now and use it little by little as needed later?

As I type this, I’m nodding off and so very ready to scoop up my six hours of rest. Baby might be turning circles through the night, but I’ll be here trying to stay as peaceful as possible. I do so love these changes all along the process. This means baby is around the corner, right? 10.5 weeks (give or take) and counting.

Grow sweet baby, grow!

MM

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Laughing So Hard it Hurts. (83)

Twice today I found myself laughing to the point of tears, and twice today, it felt like my stomach might tear in two. I wasn’t just crying because I was laughing, but crying because the stretching and pulling hurt so darn much. And I couldn’t stop. Everyone was laughing with me…then sort of at me…I was a sight, to be sure. The first time, we were out to dinner and we were all laughing so hard at the table that when our server came by, he started laughing, too. I couldn’t compose myself enough to even look in his direction, tears streaming down my face. All of this over C’s silly dancing and antics at the table. If anyone can have even strangers in stitches, it’s our energetic four year old.

Laughing so hard it hurts is a good thing and I’ll embrace it. But goodness, it’s painful! And it’s painful to realize why: I worked so hard to heal diastasis recti after birthing three nine pound or heavier babies, and I guess now the proof is in the pudding that it worked. I don’t think I had this sensation of being physically pulled apart with each of our other babies because after my first pregnancy with H, I probably didn’t have too many muscles left to separate. Now though, this is a different ballgame. I was fully back to so many things I hadn’t been able to do in a long time, and I’m thinking we’ll be putting my PT exercises to good use again come fall. As an upside, I’ve done the PT needed to get back to having my stomach muscles in working order, so I’ll know just what to do. And it goes without saying that it’s all worth it–every little bit.

I continue to marvel at what our bodies do and what they’re capable of in growing and birthing babies. When think about the logistics of it all, I’m just amazed. I mean, how we form a whole extra organ just for pregnancy that becomes the life source for our baby…it’s incredible! As a doula, I have the privilege of witnessing birth somewhat regularly, and I’m never not amazed by any of them. God’s creativity never gets dull or boring!

There’s not much left to say about today’s growing pains, except that I’m just humbled to be growing and stretching at all. Working our way to 29 weeks and it feels just as much a miracle as it did the first time and each time after. I don’t ever want to miss the miracle, even if it means I’m laughing and crying with strangers all the way through.

I hope I can keep these muscles together, but if not, it’ll be for the very best reason.

MM

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o christmas tree.

It was my suggestion. Our pre-lit, artificial tree has served us well for seven out of eight years in the little blue house (not bad for a last minute purchase some years ago to replace a real tree scenario gone awry), but I was watching social media feeds stack up with family outings to tree farms everywhere, and I wanted the experience of a fresh tree, too. I wanted the family memory of wandering about in search of the “perfect” fir. I wanted the photograph. Most of all, I wanted Christmas to arrive in our house so that we could begin the celebration, however makeshift, in this less organized, less Pinterest-y holiday season.

I wanted to get out of the house. And I did not want to go through the process of dragging our beloved fake tree out of the attic one more time. So I suggested the alternative:

“Can we get a real tree this year?”

What it turns out I meant was, “Can we get our motley crew all bundled up and head out in the first real snow of the season? And can I nurse and change the baby six times first, and can everyone need to go to the bathroom and change clothes and switch socks and find boots? And can we leave with an hour to spare before dark, so that when we get home everyone is famished and entirely over my big idea?”

Yes, that’s what I didn’t realize I actually meant, but I’d set my heart on something and we were going to see it through.

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It was snowing beautifully when we arrived at the farm late Sunday afternoon, and the kids (having worked through their own reservations about chopping down a Christmas tree) were excited. I dressed and wrapped the babe somewhat excessively, and off we went, saw and sled in tow. I don’t know what kind of grace they grow out at that tree farm but I could’ve stayed a lot longer. Something magical happened in the hour we spent traipsing around together: hunting for and cutting down our tree turned out to be simple and lovely. The whole experience was like a little pre-Christmas gift to my spirit.

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We let the tree drop in the garage overnight, and Monday evening, Jason brought our fine new plant into the house and set it up in the living room for us to decorate. It smelled just right. I was still feeling the magic. I started to hang the lights to the tune of Christmas music in the background, the kids unwrapping ornaments hastily and with delight.

I ran out of lights two thirds of the way up the tree, so we let the kids hang ornaments where they could reach them while I nursed the baby on the couch. The oldest two went to bed shortly after, and as I sat with our littlest by the light of the partly lit, imperfect tree, the Christmas spirit I had summoned on that beautiful tree farm the day before all but disappeared.

How quickly my unmet expectations can drain my joy.

I started to regret my suggestion that we venture out in search of Christmas by way of a single experience and an authentic tree. I hung myself up in the haphazard placement of ornaments, the missing lights, the uncooperative branches. I pined for the predictability of a pre-lit version–one that felt closer to my Pinterest-perfect vision and afforded me control and manufactured peace. Irrational, surely, but it all made me want to cry.

I think that all too often, when the matters of our hearts feel upside down, we turn our eyes to things that don’t really matter. My heart has been on the topsy-turvy side lately, and I don’t let on nearly as much as I try to just keep on moving. A Christmas tree can’t fix that though–not even a “perfect” one.

I was drawn to the idea of a new, real Christmas tree for good reason this year, I just didn’t see it at first. The artificial tree in the attic has lost its appeal for a few reasons, not the least of which is that I’m quite tired of fake and manufactured on all accounts.

Our new tree represents so much of what our life is all about these days–making the most of what’s entirely imperfect and striving to find the beauty in it anyway.

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I’ve since added lights to the rest of the tree; the ornaments for this year all hang in their respective places, lending character and good memories of past Christmases and the people and places we love. As I set a few of my favorites on branches after everyone else had gone to bed, I hung pieces of my heart there, too, realizing afresh that messy and imperfect is really what Christmas is all about.

I’m still working on laying down earthly ideals, clearly. Scrolling through IG at all hours while nursing a baby can make me feel inadequate at best if I’m not careful. Life isn’t a perfect scripted, perfectly arranged square photograph, filtered and shimmering in magic Pinterest dust. It just isn’t.

More realistically, it’s hands full with tiny people who need us and our best attempts at celebrating what really matters while shepherding little hearts and minds amidst the mess. Our mess. Our beautiful mess. The one we asked for, prayed for, begged for to create this life that’s colorful and adventuresome and relatively amazing. Good thing I have a seven foot tall reminder of this truth–set right in the middle of the living room whenever I need it, this whole season through.

mm

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running in the rain. (14)

[Soaking up the Morning]

The kids and I met with a dear friend and mentor this morning, and it was such a refreshing visit. Everything about this friend’s home and space is inviting and lovely and peaceful, and she is the same. It was the most perfect way to spend some time at the end of this long and busy week. God is always so gracious to give us infusions of calm when our hearts need it most, and so faithful to plant people in our lives who love us through every season and lift us up.

Henry and Eloise played with “new to them” toys while we all sat in the lingering summer air on the patio and talked over coffee and homemade cookies. I could have stayed all day. These moments are the things in life we cannot earn but are so fortunate to experience anyway. As I watched Henry and Eloise together and soaked in every bit of their bond in this treasured space before baby, I could have burst. Love is the very, very best thing.

[Adulting in the Afternoon]

We came home at lunchtime to be here whenever our new deep freezer would arrive. Our delivery window was 12p-4p, and you just never know, so it gave us a good excuse to have a fairly quiet afternoon. The freezer came around 3:15p, along with the most pessimistic delivery person on the planet. He was convinced the freezer would not fit down the stairs to the basement and grumbled the whole way. I tried to help, but you know…bellies and things. So I just kept up my attempt at being perky and optimistic, and said delivery dude finally quieted down once the freezer was in fact in its new home and fitting perfectly well.

Such an odd experience. The two delivery men left and I went downstairs to admire our beauty, which, admittedly, makes me feel like I’ve arrived at some new level of adulthood. Apparently appliances have that effect on me. Who knew?

At the same time, we’re waiting on some new furniture to arrive here, so there are lots of moving parts. It was supposed to come last week or this week at the latest, so yesterday, I sold one of our two couches and the main piece of furniture in our living room. This is taking minimalism to a whole new level, really. Thirty eight plus weeks pregnant and we’re down to a chair and a small sofa, which feels incredibly impractical (never mind the hilarity that was me trying to help a nice young couple out the front door with our gigantic couch yesterday).

I have done everything in my very pregnant power to convince the furniture company that I’d really like to have somewhere to sit when baby comes, but in spite of my efforts, next week is now the best they can do. Let’s see if baby will wait for the furniture to be delivered, because that’s a fun game, I think. If we’re creative, we can kind of get the whole family on the one couch for now, but if anyone comes to visit, I’ll be offering a folding chair. *Note to self to save big deliveries and the sale of major items for another time and place than the end of pregnancy, should we grow in number again someday.*

[Running in the Rain]

We headed downtown tonight for dinner and to wander as local businesses participated in a live mannequin night. The kids always love going, and Henry had his heart set on it in particular. We all enjoyed sushi and were just about to start walking around when the rain rolled in. It was a drizzle, then a good steady rain, and within a minute or so, a torrential downpour. I couldn’t help but feel delight as I ran hand in hand with Henry and this big belly while Jason made a mad dash with Eloise down the next block to our car. People were running and ducking for cover everywhere.

We were all completely soaked through when we got into the car, the rain pooling in inch-plus deep streams everywhere in the street. I hope I never forget the way it felt to run in the rain tonight with my buddy. I laughed and laughed as we went–it just felt so good to be alive in that few minutes, drenched and chilly and refreshed and in love with these people I am privileged to call my own.

The night went from humid and sticky to cool and breezy in a flash, not unlike these fleeting moments I’m feeling as baby gets close. Everything feels slow and a little heavy, and then in an instant, there is joy flowing in and my heart feels deep gratitude for the waiting. I can only hope that this weekend is filled with moments like tonight’s, when we’re all together and loving each other well.

An ordinary Friday turned into such a sweet, sweet day around here, and I feel both underserving and overly fortunate. I will sleepily fall into bed tonight, thanking God for one more day.

little one, if only you knew how much love there is waiting for you out here. i can’t wait to show you!

mm