O is for Octopus

It' been a little rainy here at the beach, so we ended up at the local aquarium. The lighting in the octopus tank was weird and insane, and I barely did any post processing to this image. Chrissie's orange shot worked out as both the letter and the object, so we just waited to see what I could find. And here is what we came up with!

For more Team Up Thursday, visit Megan, Melody and the Flickr page.

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As an experiment, here is an ocean shot we thought about using.

We took some votes about which pairing to use, and it was really close, with the octopus wining out by one one vote. Which do you think would have been best?

Sorry

I've been MIA because I've been out searching for my husband and father, who were last seen riding off into the sunset in the mouth of a shark.

They went in there chasing after my son, I think.

Too bad those silly guys didn't follow us girls down to the pool. It was much more relaxing there.

The Buzz Cut

There was a tradition in my family. Every year on the last day of school/first day of vacation my brother would get a buzz cut from our neighbor. Since we began our vacation yesterday, I decided that Sam should share in the tradition.

He keeps running into the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror, and he's constantly rubbing his head. I may have gone a bit too short this time, but still we like it. The only thing that is freaking me out a little bit is that he now looks like a blue-eyed carbon copy of my little brother. At least we know what he'll look like when he grows up!

N is for Nose

And what a noble nose it is! Chrissie's husband makes for quite the nose model, doesn't he? Meanwhile, Lucy's well worn book collection saved the day as we were both scrambling to come up with 'N' shots!

For more Team Up Thursday, visit Melody, Megan and the Flickr Pool!

THE Carnival

Last weekend we took the kids to a little street carnival that was, in reality, a parking lot carnival because we live in suburbia, and god forbid we close a street once a year for our children's entertainment. Anyway, the carnival was as one would expect a carnival to be. Low rent and totally enthralling to the 2-4 year old set. Lights flashing, music blaring, rides, um, being ridden, etc.

After a quick survey it was decided that there were three rides we would permit the children to ride. A big slide, an airplane ride and a horse and carriage type thing. The horse ride was, by far, the most tame. It was simply a few knee high horses with small seats behind them that all went in a circle. The slide required a climb (and an adult to slide with you if your name was Lucy. Wasn't expecting that one. I also don't think the crowd waiting below was expecting to see my underwear, but had I known I was going to be riding a giant slide maybe I would have worn something besides a gauzy, flowing skirt, you know?) And the airplanes went up and down, making it the most dangerous of carnival rides available.

So guess which one caught on fire while when we were next in line? The horses. It was easily contained by a fire extinguisher, and a few minutes later was back up and running. And guess which ride my children were simply dying to ride? The horses. We tried distracting them with the other rides, I flashed the crowds, and then we bought them some funnel cakes, but still they Wanted! The! Horses!

What would you do?

Although I know some of you will judge, I'll be honest and tell you that we let them ride the horses. We observed it for a few spins to make sure SOB could jump the fence in case the damn thing caught on fire again, and then we parked their little bums on some horses. Does that make us bad parents? They were so happy, and the peril factor was minimal. Don't sweat the small stuff, right?

But just in case you still think we're good parents, afterwards we let them throw darts at balloons.

Kissing

Sometimes the best part of a photo is seeing what happened one second later. Just after Sam kissed his sister, she squealed with delight and he wiped his face. Priceless!

For more best shot Monday, visit Tracey at Mother May I.

M is for Monkey

I think because we were both so stressed out about M that we over-compensated. We ended up with three Ms and shots of mushrooms, milk and monkeys. Then we had our friend Carrie pick her favorite, since she is probably our biggest fan.

For more Team Up Thursday visit Melody, Megan and our Flickr pool!

The Last of It

Today I'm delving into it all and then saying goodbye, so skip it if you want to. I won't be offended.

I never thought I would be in this position. I'm an arrogant bitch, aren't I? I've been so cavalier about my pregnancies before, announcing them only hours after I saw the two blue lines. The only reason I didn't blog about being pregnant with Sam right away was because I hadn't told my family yet, and even though they didn't read the blog then I didn't know that for sure. I really wanted to tell my parents face-to-face, so I kept mum about it here until they knew.

(BTW, did I ever tell you that story? It involved a lunch box and an ultrasound picture inside of a zip lock bag. One of my best orchestrated moments ever!)

So why didn't I jump right online and start blabbing last Monday when I first got a positive test? Because deep inside my heart of hearts I knew something wasn't right. I didn't tell my parents or friends until the next day when I got a second positive, but I still felt some kind of reservation. I told SOB and my mother, but the general consensus was that I was still reeling from the shock. And honestly? I was. Here I was, about to have four kids, the youngest only 15 months behind Maggie, as we're planning an interstate move. I probably couldn't even spell the work SHOCK last week.

But then Wednesday rolled around. I took another test that morning because I had forgotten to photograph the one from Tuesday, and while the second line was there it was maybe just a shade lighter than the second line on Tuesday's test. It was early, I told myself, and any line, no matter how dark or light equaled BABY. Besides, I have a stockpile of pregnancy tests so I'd just wait until next week when I was sure to get a clear and present POSITIVE to take the photo.

Thursday I called and scheduled my first OB appointment. Things were now moving into 'real' territory, and my early hesitation to shout the news from the rooftops was waning.

Friday morning I went to the Y and spread the word far and wide that Maggie was going to be a big sister. Then I came home and wrote about it here. That night as we laid in bed I thought ahead 35 weeks, imagining the moment when a sweet, slippery newborn would be placed on my chest and I would see my baby for the first time.

And that was the same though that flashed into my head at 4:40am when I saw the blood. That I was seeing my baby for the first time. The only time. Smaller and on a square of toilet paper instead of in my arms.

For the next two hours I wished and wished for it to stop. I stayed on my left side, and didn't go to Maggie when she cried around 5:30am because nursing stimulates uterine contractions. Every twenty minutes I would gingerly get out of bed and go to the bathroom with my breath caught in my throat. Finally it became clear that this was happening, and it wasn't going to stop. The rest of the house was starting to come alive. It was time to start dealing with things like waffles and coffee and clean underpants and vitamins. Thank god for that, because now I had something else to think about.

I told my parents, and they awesomely took on the awful task of telling the rest of my family. And my sister-in-law Allison did the same for SOB's side of the family. I spent the day trying to go about as normal, but occasionally I would be overcome with sadness and start weeping.

Through everything SOB was perfect. Perfect. It was as if he could read my mind. He knew when to leave me alone and he knew when to seek me out. He knew that I needed to go out and take my cousin's engagement photos. He knew I needed a night to myself on Sunday. He listened to me complain and said all of the right things at all of the right times. Somehow, this whole crummy experience has made me realize just how much I love the SOB.

Oh, and these little buggers.

In the end I realized how lucky I am. This whole process has been relatively painless physically, because it was so early, and I've had the support of literally dozens of family members and friends. It's deepened my relationship with my husband, made me appreciate my beautiful babies more than I ever thought possible, and it cemented my desire to have more children.

I think I can check 'find the silver lining' off of my list of things to do today.

Celebrating Mom

Visit I Heart Faces to see all of the 'Celebrating Mom' photos!

Happy Distractions

On Saturday afternoon I went into the city to do some engagement photos for my cousin and her fiancee. It was a bit windy but I think we managed to get some good ones!

It was nice to have something so happy to occupy my mind.

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For more best shot Monday visit Tracey at Mother May I.

TMI

Scene: Interior, bathroom

Him: So do you flush those pads when you're done with them?

Me: No. They'd totally clog the toilet. You wrap them up and throw them away.

Him: So, there's a fetus in our bathroom trash can?

Me: Well, maybe not an entire fetus, but I'm willing to bet there are parts of a fetus in there.

(Pause)

Him: Remind me to take out the trash first thing tomorrow.

End Scene

Retraction

Remember yesterday how I told you I was pregnant? Well, forget about it, k? Let's just pretend that never happened. Because as of 4:45am this morning I'm not pregnant anymore. I'll spare you the details, admit to crying more than I expected and just say that I appreciated all of your well wishes yesterday. Thanks.

Catholicism + Biology = OMFG!

A few weeks ago, when we bought our house in West Virginia before we had sold our house here in PA, I posted some throw away statement about 'life getting 100% more insane' on facebook. Almost every single commenter assumed that the reason for the new found insanity was that I was pregnant.

HA! Silly fools! You must be kidding! My baby is only six months old and I'm still nursing her. Me, pregnant? Bah.

Just after that I got my period for the first time since Maggs was born, and was honestly glad. Now I wouldn't have to throw away money every two weeks peeing on a stick. I've always had a pretty regular 35 day cycle, so as long as I kept my eye on the calendar there would be no surprises.

Damn my catholic upbringing.

And while we're at it, damn my ovaries for being all, 'Oh hey! Did we forget to ovulate? Oh well, let's just do it now, even though she thinks we did last week.'

Cut to Monday morning when I peed on a stick. And it was justbarely positive. And then to Tuesday morning, when I peed on a stick and it was justalittlemore positive than Monday's test. Then to Tuesday afternoon when I peed on a stick of a different brand, and it was definitely positive. But just to be sure I peed on another stick on Wednesday morning, and lo, it was positive.

So yeah, life is about to get 100% more insane.

Field Trip!!!

Sam went on his first field trip today, and I almost died. The end.

First off, when did this little baby get old enough to attend fucking field trips??? Seriously, there were permission slips and requests for chaperones and everything, and yet yesterday he was still asking for a 'dwink of wah-way.'

GAH!

Secondly, this morning when he came downstairs I was expecting excitement and jubilation! Last night we laid out his clothes, since they requested that the kids wear their bright yellow school shirts. Just that process of finding the shirt got him all giddy last night. So I was a bit surprised when he came downstairs looking nervous. Turns out, the shirt was a size too big for him, and he was worried that the other kids were going to laugh because of it.

My first instinct was to get the of names of the laughers and kick their stupid pre-school asses. Luckily, I was able to work through that one on my own, and Sam and I figured out a solution. I suggested that we tuck in his shirt so that it wouldn't look so long, and he thought that was a great idea. So that's what we did.

And then he pulled his shorts up to his armpits. Because no one is going to laugh at him for that.

Pre-school logic escapes me. I guess that's a good thing, right?

L is for Lollipop

I had to get a shot of Lucy eating lollipop for L. I had no other choice!

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For more Team Up Thursday visit Megan, Melody and our Flickr Pool!

Wishes

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Visit Tracey Clark for more My Best Shot Monday!

Maggie, Month Seven

Maggie Lynn,

Oh dear. Sorry for the delay in writing this Mrs. Magoo. We've had so much going on, what with all of the buying and selling of houses. And then we were travelling last week. And I honestly got my dates screwed up. This is all my way of saying sorry baby!

What a month, though. You're finally more interested in sitting upright! For the longest time I thought maybe you'd just skip sitting and go straight to standing, since you love being held in a standing position. But once your big sister discovered that she really, really liked you sitting gained some allure.

More time was spent in the company of family. We visited everyone twice last month, which is probably why you're sleep schedule is totally out of whack lately. While I hate getting up with you more than once a night, moments like this make the long nights a little more manageable.

I think you might be my most ticklish baby. Sam is a really ticklish kid, but as bad as you are now, a strong breeze might send you into a giggle fit. Luckily for everyone, you have the most delicious laugh, and hearing it is like an instant balm for any ailment.

You continue to eat and grow, love you brother and the cat, jump and roll. Rolling is still your preferred method of locomotion, but it seems like your little brain is starting to try and conceptualize crawling. You push up soooooo far on your arms, but your legs haven't quite figured it out yet. Thank god. I'm not ready, physically or emotionally, for you to start crawling.

People tell me all the time how you seem so tiny. And you are, really. You're long and lean, like Sammy was and is. But you still fit perfectly in my arms. I have a feeling you always will.

Love, Mama