Terrible Twos

This is not a post about Sophie and her awesome 2 year-old-ness. That deserves it's own html. Come to think of it, her diva-liciousness deserves an entirely new internet. Get on it, Al Gore.

Anyway.

This is about the two things I want to do right now.

Hibernate.

Swim.

Is it so terrible that that is all I want to do? I just want to lock the doors, stay in my jammas and hang out. I don't necessarily want to sleep or rest. Not yet, anyway. I'd just like to not have to DO anything. I don't want to have to deal with actual PEOPLE. Excluding my kids/husband/family, of course. Them I like. And you know, it's not about not LIKING other people anyway. I LOVE people. People are fabulous. But getting dressed and leaving my house in order to talk to them is starting to feel somewhat overrated.

I don't know. Maybe it's my size (though, the doc informed me that despite my feelings of epic ginormity I'm measuring a little on the small side - not my BODY, just my womb...he didn't go into specifics about the size of my bottom parts, for which I thank him). Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the 10 billion things that happen in the month of May when school is ending and you're a certified PTA member. Regardless of the reason, I'm ready for it to stop. I'd like to take a day off.

And on my day off I'd like to be floating in a pool of glacial water. Al Gore might be able to do something about that, too. And why am I making Al Gore jokes?

I love the pool so much that when I showed up at my SIL's pool yesterday without my swim skirt (which I never, ever go without in public because of the cool Casper/Albino/Cellulite combo I've got going for me), I didn't care. I just jumped right in. Minus the jumping part.

It's almost June. Still too early to complain, right?

I swear this all sounded normal when it was in my head.

 

Bonus Blog:

Miles has been saying the most rad stuff lately. Yesterday after a total meltdown/tantrum in the car, he stopped crying, sniffed and said, "Mom. I love squirrels." Later in the day, on the way home from the pool, he dialogued WITH HIMSELF a conversation between himself and a bad guy who was "trying to take away [his] mommy." He was sounding super tough, like he could totally take the bad guy, until he corrected the bad guy's poor manners. He was all,

"You stay away from my mommy, bad guy!"

"No! I'm going to take her and get her!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Yes I am and I think you're stupid!"

"Stupid is a bad word. It's not sparkly best manners to say stupid!"

(commence sounds of a struggle between bad guy and good guy)

It was kind of awesome.

Can we all agree?

For the love of all that is gooey, crunchy and chocolate covered (read: holy), can we all just agree on this one topic?

Pregnancy is TEN MONTHS, people. TEN. Not nine. TEN.

I've been on the earth for approximately 364 months. And not one of them had 35 days in it.

So pregnancy leans much closer to ten months. It just does.

And I'm CONVINCED that the whole 9 month gestation idea came from someone who is uterus-less. How else would he have gotten the Mrs. on the baby train? Not with a double digit pregnancy, that's how.

Men. Whether it's a fart* or a pregnancy. They're always trying to sneak one past us.

 

* Fart was an illegal word in my house while growing up...I still have a hard time saying it. I usually just don't. It brings back memories of me being hoisted over the sink and soap deposited in my mouth. Shiver.

Cameron, why are you so handsome?

Chase has been training Cameron to answer this question, "because I have good genes."

So no one should be surprised when, today after church, Chase said,

"Cameron, why are you so handsome?"

only to have Cameron respond,

"Because I'm wearing nice pants."

I love having kids. Happy Mother's Day to me:)

Mark your calendars...

Saw the doc today and we scheduled the c-section! July 30.

Woooooo hooooooo!!!!!!!!

 

Also too, Cameron made this card for me today, totally out of the blue. Being a mom is a dream job:) Why didn't any of my employers ever give me performance reviews like this?

(translation: I like my mom. She is cool. I love my mom. I like my mom because she loves me.) (And I'll admit I was kinda hoping one of those superheroes was supposed to be me. It wasn't. I should have known I'm not THAT cool.)

And just for an update, Mom and Dad came to town last week. I love having them here. They're both big helps with the kids and I usually find a job to keep my dad busy - he's never been one to sit around.

Anyway, we ended up finding a B-I-G job for dad to help with. If you didn't know, Chase spent a ton of time putting up radiant barrier in our attic. He finished the job right before dad rolled into town. The next step was to put in a couple attic fans and blow in insulation. So dad got wrangled into that. Poor, poor man. It was a HUGE job. They spent the first day doing the attic fans and getting ready for insulation. The next day they spent over 15 hours doing the insulation. 15 HOURS! Wowzers bowzers.

At least they got started with some sweet golf...

Now if I can just convince Dad to ever come back:)