these days are numbered.

I woke up today feeling a little bit melancholy.
Or you could say nostalgic.
Peaceful. Calm. Pensive. Reflective.

Solo has been sleeping with us for the past several months, a routine that began during the spring when his room was deathly hot. It is kind of ironic that we picked up the "bad" habit this late in the game. As a tiny newborn he slept in his pack n play and as a gigantic three year old, he snuggles up against us in bed. (And whacks us throughout the night with his flailing arms and legs)

But it's precious. And I'm aware that a day might come that I'll regret it, but it's doubtful.

When I rolled over in bed this morning to look at the time, transitioning out of sleep to the sounds of Solo's light groans and mumblings, I sighed.

These days are numbered.

While pregnant with Solo, I read several pregnancy and parenting books, I scoured the internet for resources, I perused online chat rooms, I painted his bedroom, decorated, washed & re-washed baby clothes, snuggled my face in soft blankets.

This time around I've read no books. I've decorated nothing. I've bought hardly anything.
But, I'm peaceful.
Because I know that being a good mom has nothing to do with the books you read or the online groups you belong to or how well the wall color matches the bedding.
Being prepared to mother has nothing to do with how many onesies you bought or monogrammed blankies you pre-ordered or themed nurseries you created.
It's instinct.
It's in my blood.
Nothing I do can prepare me because I'm already prepared.
I've been mothering this baby for nine months already, inseparable and intertwined in one another. (I can't wait to meet you, sweet boy.)

I'm headed out the door to meet with a new friend who offered to take maternity pictures for me.
I never took any pictures with Solo.
I wasn't aware of how this time comes and goes at a ridiculous pace. Capturing the essence of it didn't occur to me because I didn't realize how precious a gift it was.
This time around, I am painfully and intensely aware of each passing day.
I feel an urgency surrounding each moment, an urgency to soak and treasure and enjoy.

This most likely is the last life I carry within me.

These days are numbered.

36 weeks.

sometimes when you are up 30+pounds getting pretty makes all the difference in the world.

where I'm from.

I am from rustic wooden porch swings, hammocks in the backyard, and a very loved VHS version of Charlotte's Web.

I am from the charming house on the quiet street, 3 bedrooms, 7 people, bursting at the seams.

I am from plum trees ripe with juicy purple fruit and cherry trees lining the neighborhood, bright red stains on my clothes.

I am from hearty Christmas breakfasts and cherry salad on Thanksgiving, plastic eggs filled with chocolate and ice cream on hot summer nights.

I am from long runs on country roads, bike rides to pick wild berries, and a beach house filled with sandy flip flops, blow up mattresses and aroma of brownies.

I am from acts of service, prayer at the dinner table, and always giving 100%.

I am from sign language at home, big families, and college in the city.

I am from small churches who love Jesus, thinking outside the box, and casseroles for hungry people.

I am from writing letters, pen pals and poetry.

I’m from overused windshield wipers, coffee addictions, evergreen trees and views of the mountain while driving on freeways.

I am from young love, marriage at 22, crossing a border, and discovering the unknown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This exercise is part of the Writer's Workshop at Mama Kat's Blog.

Wordless Wednesday: today

Today will include this:

& this:

{yum}

This guilty pleasure:

This:

And also this:

{peaceful paths}

 And, of course, THIS:

  Have a great Wednesday!

the last time.

I have five weeks to go. Still lots to do. Well, basically we still have everything to do since I haven't even started my to-do list. Ah, the fate of the second child...

Install car seat, set up Pack n Play, wash sheets & blankets, set up diaper station, freeze meals, stock up on diapers, clean and sanitize breast pump and bottles....

It will get done.

Meanwhile, I spend my mornings walking miles at the park, listening to audiobooks, cooking, reading blogs, and watching episodes of Breaking Bad online. I just tell myself it's my last chance.

My last chance to just "be" and enjoy this pregnancy. My last chance to feel life inside me. This is it for us.

Two.

Two boys.

I have five weeks to soak it in, before the beginning of the end arrives. And from then on out it will be lots of "last times." And I hope I can accept that, and have peace with that. And I hope it helps me have perspective and joy in each and every detail, like I wouldn't otherwise have.

But, for right now, it's still a lot to wrap my mind (and my heart) around.

a weekend in snapshots.

This weekend was a holiday weekend with Friday off. We had tossed around plans to go to the lake or the beach, seizing one of our final opportunities to escape the city as a family of three. However, life happens, and as it often happens in our household, it begins with a cough. And snot. And then it doesn't go away for WEEKS.

(All I can say is I hope Baby Boy #2 has a stronger immune system than Solo-boy. Golly.)

Here's what we were up to while our friends were laying by the pool at the lake and frolicking in the waves at the beach. Don't be too jealous.

Barefoot, pregnant and cooking in the kitchen. Chubby why-must-you-beg-for-purple-painted-toes toddler feet. Make-believe "dog house" for "Marmaduke" (aka Solo.) Mr. P begins to nest. (shh, he hates that phrase.) Lots of down time to doodle on the iPod touch. Peanut butter toast and other treats that require no effort. Practicing with the baby monitor. Even a sickie needs a date with momma at our favorite cafe'.

Because banana muffins and fresh fruit smoothies?

They does a body good.

Have a great Monday! I'll be spending the day training Solo on the skills of cough suppression when adults are paying attention. It should be enlightening.

Kidding.

scenes in mexico.

This weekend is a celebration of Mexico. Tomorrow is independence day. If you've been reading along for awhile, you know that this is our 6th year in Guadalajara, that we have a love-hate relationship with Mexico, that our sons are/will be Mexican by nationality. We grew up here. We became parents here. We've overcame struggles and defeat and even depression here. Even though we have our days filled with frustration, our hearts will always have a section that's red, white and green, smells of carnitas, and is filled with the sounds of tropical birds, mariachi and bus horns.

Here are some scenes from the past year in Mexico as I browsed through our photo library. Enjoy!

Carnival in our neighborhood

Tiny dancer - Lake Chapala Parade

Skipping rocks, Lake Chapala

Sunrise, Manzanillo

Happy mariachi

Tortilla soup

Guanajuato at night

Beautiful doorMercado de abastos, GDL

Lake Chapala

Balloons, anyone?

Snacks in the park

Handmade

Birthday partyLa Barranca, Guadalajara

advice.

This time around, relax.

If you need to cry, get in the shower and CRY. Remember it's normal, with those hormones trying to settle themselves.

Drink lots of water and get outside everyday.

Don't worry about the flab, it'll go away eventually. Remember what that flab helped bring into this world.

Put the baby down and take a shower. Brush your teeth. Floss. Mascara would be nice. He'll be ok for a few minutes alone.

If you feel lonely, go online and call a friend. If you get voicemail, leave long, annoying messages.

Take the baby's clothes off and snuggle him, skin to skin.

When you are awake in the middle of the night, breathe deeply. Think of all the other moms around the globe who are awake with you. You are not alone.

Lay down with the baby, even if you can't nap, don't stress it. Just watch him sleep.

The dishes can wait. The laundry can wait.

Do something - one thing - everyday that makes you feel productive. Even if it's just making the beds or watering the plants.

Pick a song for the baby and sing it to him everyday.

Sit in the sunshine.

When you feel like you will never sleep again, repeat to yourself: This, too, shall pass.

Tell your husband Thank You.

Pray.

Ask for help.

If you need to, call your psychiatrist. Swallow the pills. It will be okay.

One day at a time.

bedtime.

Isn't it amazing how in just a couple of minutes time we go from THIS:

To THIS:

Sigh.

It's rough being 3.

I mean, seriously, how pathetic is this face?!?

Send wine.

Oh, wait.

Nevermind.

TGIF!!!

to do before 30.

The other day someone tweeted about starting a "30 things to do before 30" list. She has a year and a half to go. I thought to myself, "Dangit! Wish I would have thought of that!"

People, I have two months before I turn 30.

Why do I do this to myself?

Of course, I quickly pulled out my iPod, opened the Notes app, and sat down to start my list. I thought coming up with 30 things to do these next couple months would be easy peasy. I thought I'd come up with "simple" things to make it "easy."

Pfffft.

#1. Have a baby.

I figured I'd give myself this one.

#2. Finish "The Help."

Yeah, this one was kind of cheating too since I had only a chapter to go.

#3. Get a manicure and pedicure.

Ok, ok, I know this is sorta cheating too, because, duh.

Then...

Stumped.

I wracked my brain & could not think of anything else to add. First of all, it's kind of hard to think of things I can actually do while very largely with child. Secondly, I have two months. And thirdly, I am hugely pregnant. Did I mention that?

So I think my "30 things to do before turning 30" list just became a "3 things to do before turning 30" list. And that is perfectly okay.

Snort!

But, in all seriousness, is there anything I absolutely should do before turning 30? Or more importantly, before having this second babe?

Help!

the questions are a'comin'.

It's begun.

The questions.

Those questions that you dread as a parent.

The ones you don't know how to answer.

I am aware that it starts small ... innocent enough ... and before I know it Solo will expect me to tell him why some kids in his class have brown skin or how babies are made.

Lordy.

Yesterday I had to bring him into a bathroom stall with me, which, let's be honest, I've done dozens of times in his life.

But, yesterday was different somehow.

He noticed.

"Mommy, you don't have a penis."

Excellent observation, my son.

"Mommy, you pee out of your butt?!?" (a sort of question and statement, pronounced with utter dismay.)

Oh, Solo. Still so much to learn. Where do we even begin?

seasons of change.

image

Fall is generally the most obvious season of change. Kids start school, move up a grade level. Leaves change colors. Weather changes are drastic (well, in some places.) Flip flops are traded in for slouchy boots.

Most everyone I know loves fall, looks forward to fall, is ready for fall when it comes. (Most Oregonians I know complain, but that's nothing new. ;)

This year, I am aware from the core of my being the change fall will bring. Already our family has made some big adjustments. Solo goes to school everyday. Nora lives with another family.

Of course, the biggest change and adjustment is coming late October. A blogging friend of mine is literally about to have her 2nd baby girl via c-section as I write this. She tweeted a few times this morning with pictures of her being prepped in the hospital, and squeals of excitement as they say goodbye to their days of being a family of three.

My heart fluttered. I got goosebumps. My mind raced.

I am caught in a place of wanting and not wanting so much to end.

I want this baby boy. More than anything. Yet, I am not ready for life as it is with Solo to end. Does that even make sense? I'm not ready to give up my nighttime snuggles with him. The time we have to read books together and not feel rushed. The carefree hours we spend playing on the floor with his cars and trains. The bike rides around the block, the one-on-one dates for a fruit popsicle.

I know I'm not completely giving this up. But I also know that it will never be the same again.

I know that I will grow to love this child just as deeply, in unique and special ways. But I also know that nothing replaces your firstborn - the one who taught you how to be a mother.

Fall. Changes. I'm very ready. And not ready at all.

what i'm into.

I read this post over at The Outdoor Wife and thought it was a fun idea. I always enjoy knowing what others are reading and watching and jamming to. So here goes.

What I'm Reading:

Change of Heart by Jodi Picoult.

The book of Hebrews in my Bible Study.

The Help by Kathryn Stockett. (technically I'm listening to the audiobook - and it is AWESOME!)

What I'm listening to:

Young Love by Mat Kearney

Stranded by Matthew Price

So Much More by Brett Dennen

On TV:

Honestly I don't watch much TV at all anymore, but when I do I try to catch House Hunters International, Breaking Bad, or Modern Family.

I seriously love this guy.

In the Netflix Queue:

Don't remind me of all I'm missing out on.

Kidding.

But seriously, we don't have Netflix.

In Blogland:

This post by Katherine reminds me that our health care system still has a long ways to go in taking care of women.

Kimberly always knows how to bring a smile to my face.

I LOVE this reminder of the benefits of unplugging over at Baby Feet.

My friend Suzanne is putting on a fundraiser (lots of prizes too) to raise money for her friend who just lost her baby girl, a preemie, Zaria.

I just downloaded instagram for my iPod, and looky what a great idea this is!!!

What I'm looking forward to:

Our baby's arrival the end of October!

A two-week visit from my parents in November.

Running again - getting back in shape - generally not being pregnant.

Turning 30 years old November 16th!

Cooler weather. aka, Fall. Of which we don't really have, but a girl can dream.

What about you?!

Thanks, Nish, for the fun idea!