Thursday, June 27, 2013

If you can't stand the heat...well, I don't care, I'm gonna make ya.

 As apparent by the photographs, we went blueberry picking.  It was quite humid, not sure that it even hit the 90's, but my boys, Matt included were hot.  And quickly cranky.  Matt claims that they are "a different breed" and that I could not possibly understand.  Which, may be valid, as I ran (literally) about a sixth of a mile back to the van to get the memory cards for the camera and arrived back without having broken a sweat, only to find three red-faced children, and a husband with beads dripping down his face.  This did not stop George from eating every blueberry he found.  Nor did it stop Brock from running a muck.  It did make Curtis a bit non-specific in his berry picking choices, having no discrepancy between green and blue berries. But we really can't be sure that this wasn't more due to the possibility that he is color blind, or to his overall flippant personality.  He's somewhat of a Honey badger (and honey badger's don't give a sh*#.)
 I am just glad we got a cute family photo.  Ate some really fresh, amazing berries.  And enjoyed a family outing, despite my restrictive Summer work schedule.

My Children's Father.

Matt proved to me, yet again, how much he loves me, and his family this morning.  I did not get to bed until a quarter to midnight last evening, after a 14 hour work day, battling a horrific GI bug.  To help me feel better, he delayed going in to work for an hour and a half!  Anyone who knows Matt, knows he is extremely punctual, and rarely lets things interfere with his daily schedule and responsibilities.

When Matt and I first started dating, I think I made fun of him on a fairly regular basis because of the fact that he had received the "Perfect Attendance" award, multiple times throughout his scholarly career.  This was a foreign concept to me, coming from someone who had been called to the principle's office on more than one occasion because of missing too much school.  In my defense, they should have taken my tonsils out by age 5, perhaps then I wouldn't have contracted strep on a monthly basis.  Also, the swimming career didn't help...but who are we kidding, I would have found a way out of school no matter what.  Back to Matt.  I quickly learned that the very things I made fun of him for, were actually the manifestation of some of the traits I most love about him.  Matt is absolutely unmatched in his sense of loyalty, respect and commitment.  I push him to be spontaneous, to "live a little", give in to some of his whims...and he tries.  Is even successful to some degree, but ultimately, he is a slave to his responsibilities.  And I would never hope for this to change.

Because of these traits, his family comes first. Always.  He never, ever complains about having to stay home and take care of his three boys, while I work god-awful hours, on top of working a full time job himself, plus photography on the side.  Recently, a long time friend of his remarked to me, that he was surprised Matt would be OK with so many children, and deal with it so well, as he is somewhat of a "low energy guy".  Which is probably true.  Given the opportunity, I am fairly certain Matt would nap twice a day, everyday.  But nothing will get in the way of him taking care of his children.  These boys have no idea how much their father loves them.  Ok, maybe some idea, especially when he gives them ten million kisches, despite them trying to get away from his scratchy face.

Matt keeps us all sane.  His "low energy" keeps the stress level that I continually try to escalate, at a manageable level.  He shows the boys Kansas City, and all there is to see and enjoy about life.  He goes to work everyday.  He comes home everyday.  He never complains.  Never questions my choices.  Supports our family to the best of his ability.  He has been stretched so thin by the many demands of our family, my career, his career, my goals, his goals, but has never torn.  I could have never imagined a more perfect father to my children.  If Matt and I were in some sort of awful accident, and only one parent could survive, I would pick him. Every time.  I am never more at peace, than when I know my boys are safe with their father.  I've never known anyone more trustworthy, caring, nor responsible.  Most of all, his heart is full of nothing but love.

 Though, I feel I have only touched on the surface of how I truly feel about my Matt.  I will leave you with (in the words of Brock) "I love you so, so, so, so, so, so, so much." Happy 5th Father's Day.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

A Potential Man of Steel.

 105 days left to go with 4.O!  Every pregnancy goes faster, and faster.  That first one drags.  I am certain I was pregnant with Brock longer than the other three combined.  Though I feel all the same symptoms, and I sleep nearly sitting up every night, it just doesn't seem as bad.  I guess having been pregnant for 32 of the last 54 months means the discomforts of pregnancy have become somewhat commonplace for me.  I am honestly not sure what "normal" feels like for me anymore.  And, being that once I am finally done breastfeeding this one, I will finally be out of residency and working like a normal person, and almost 6 years older than when I embarked on this whole process of family creating, I don't think my "normal" will be the same "normal" it once was.

There are a few differences I've noticed with this pregnancy. True, I get bored and annoyed answering the questions; when are you due? what are you having? do you think it's a boy or a girl? or any of the other numerous comments, questions, speculations and predictions with every pregnancy, it has started quite early in this one.  I mean, I think I was legitimately pissed the first time anyone asked me one of these back around 18 weeks along!  When people ask, "how are you", I want to give them a genuine answer - which no one wants to hear - and that is, "Not good".  I feel happy, excited, and I just want to be home with my family.  I want to take a long, long break from work as well as maternity leave.  I want to be pregnant, but not aware of it every minute of everyday.  So, quite rubbing it in my face.  All of these thoughts and emotions usually hold off until 30 weeks.  I also miss having a drink and relaxing on the deck, or going to happy hour with friends.  Don't remember this really bothering me in the past.  Maybe my desire to drink is related to the above annoyances.  Or that this schedule, plus 3 pre-existing children, while pregnant, has not been pretty.  Matt has already planted the seed that maybe this kid should be it...not sure he would survive another 5 weeks like the ones we've just made it through. We'll see about that, I am NOT ready to commit to no more kids, but I'm not saying a 5.O is a guarantee either.

Honestly, though, all the rough patches just fade, when I feel those fun, amazing little baby movements.  Matt even likes it now, because he can "feel body parts".  I periodically smile, as I picture delivering another, perfect, wonderful addition to our family.  Already, I cannot imagine life without 4.O, and this baby is not even here, nor does he have a name (if it's a girl, she does.)  I thought 25 weeks would be a good time to compare previous pregnancies (the red tank top is Brock, and I was actually 27 weeks along in that one.)  I see almost no difference between George and 4.O. And in checking the stats from that day, I was up 7lbs.  I am up 8lbs this go (would have been closer to 15, but thanks to my horrendous work schedule I lost 5-6lbs over the past 3 weeks. Yay!)

On a lighter note, if 4.O is a boy, and 5.O is a boy, then the baby I am currently carrying is basically Superman, thus making the name Steele even more appropriate, and therefore going to be really that actor is the second youngest of 5 boys.
Cheers to only 15 weeks, hopefully 14,  to go!