William is three months old today and I couldn't be more thrilled.

One, he has begun to smile a lot and sometimes, if I work hard enough, he will laugh out loud. It sounds like a seal got stepped on. But a cute seal.

And two, He has officially slept through the night for two nights in a row. I don't want to get too excited, but the thought of going to sleep with confidence and without fear of waking up ten minutes later is just too good to be true.

His favorite songs are Wee Willy Winky and The Alphabet Song. Not that he really has a choice, it's pretty much all I sing to him. (with the occasional "I Feel Pretty" thrown in. Don't ask)

Every kid had their specific songs. Poor Shannon, I don't remember singing to her much, she was always crying. Dan got to hear the Irish Lullaby and Katie got the first few lines of "Little Bird" from The Fiddler on the Roof. (I forgot the rest of the song) Also I would sing Bicycle Built for Two but I put in "Katie" in place of "Daisy."

I should have done the Alphabet Song with all of them. Would've saved me the grief of teaching letters in Kindergarten. Plus it's easy to sing. You don't need to hear my rendition of I Feel Pretty. It's not.

Shannon calls the baby "Goochie". As in: (squeally baby voice) "Oh, let me see that baby Goochie oh he's so cute what have you been doing today are you pooping what a good boy you are soooo cute!!!"

I brought Katie to the doctor today to once and for all try to fix this skin problem she has. It turns out she has a staph infection from eczema. I was positive it was an allergy to milk but I suppose not. She's on antibiotics and a cream so hopefully it will clear up soon. And now we can give her chocolate again. I think that was harder for me than her.

Christmas is ten days away and I'm almost ready. Except that Daniel believes in Santa fiercely and is positive that he will be receiving a Lego train set. These are $100 and up so I'm trying to gently tell him that even Santa has a price cap.

Katie wants a Rudolph stuffed toy. That's my girl. I used to love Rudolph so much that I would pretend the big round red light at the back of the school bus marking the emergency exit was Rudolph's nose. I was not a normal kid.

Shannon has asked for Squinkies for Christmas. These are little obnoxious collectible toys. I hope this gathering toys stage will be gone next year. But at least it's an easy thing to get and relatively cheap. Not like last year's Zhu Zhu pet drama. I haven't seen that much demand for an essentially useless toy since Cabbage Patch Kids. (but I'll admit I wanted one of those)

Tomorrow is the kids' Christmas concert at school. Tim is working, so I will be bringing Katie and William to see it on my own. Wish me luck!

Just pictures.

William was born last Wednesday morning at 5:28.
Thankfully there was an epidural involved. Why some choose to not get these suckers is beyond me, I've always said they should be mandatory.

And prompt.

It felt like everyone was moving in slow motion as I breathed away another excruciating contraction, while the staff "patiently" waited for the inconvenience to end so they could get my mother's maiden name down in their records.


Really? Seriously? And while I'm on the subject of "seriously" I'd like to share a de'ja vu story that involves Tim. Sorry hon, but I gotta tell it.

As we neared the hospital, my contractions were getting strong enough that I couldn't talk through them. I had been saying something to Tim when I abruptly grabbed the handle-thingie above the door and started breathing like I had asthma. I must have been chatting away because Tim seized the moment to ask me whether he should drop me off at the er or at the front door.
And I mustered the strength to kindly answer him " Really? Are you serious? You're gonna ask me a question now? My stopping MID-SENTENCE wasn't enough of a clue that right now is not a good time?
And it's exactly what happened when I was in labor with one of the other kids.

Now let me soften my teasing by stating that Tim has been wonderful these past few days, helping take care of the kids and taking on the mommy chores. He's shared my lack of sleep willingly and taken the kids mercifully out for periods of time. So thanks Tim, you rock.

Now on to another matter.
I know all newborn babies are "cute", (we all know they really look like aliens) but don't you think little Willie looks like a certain semi-obscure celebrity? (Paul Walker would be nice...)


One We've all seen in something but can only refer to him as "that guy from that movie"

It's Chris Cooper people. You know, Seabiscuit, Bourne Identity, The Horse Whisperer?? (no one seems to know this guy)

Admit it, all babies (ok my babies) all look like teeny old men.

No? Maybe I'm just delirious from exhaustion. I do think he's adorable, (Willie, not Mr. Cooper) but I'm a little biased.

Goodbye cruel, record-breaking, sweltering, molten, yucky summer.

Thanks for being the hottest one in a gazillion years. This year in particular, the summer I'm pregnant.

We've managed to be miserable the whole time.

Never going out for fear we might melt into a slimy gooey puddle.

There was an occasional rare find that kept us interested in the great outdoors. I hadn't seen one of these slides since I was a kid.

And I never thought I'd see this kind of sight from my self-proclaimed "I'm an indoor kind of girl "

Daniel discovered a new obsession with trains.

But finally, the winds changed (for one day anyway) and we had a blessed day of cool.

With some sun.

And before I knew it, it was time for me to start getting used to a quiet house again.

Tomorrow is my due date.

We'll see how long the quiet lasts.

*last chance to put in name ideas, we are still not firm on anything yet, especially a middle name. And I'm still not entirely convinced it's a boy...*

I'm in the homestretch now, only a couple of weeks left.
One of the phenomena that is commonly felt by very pregnant women is their belly getting so huge they can't see their feet anymore. I don't remember this ever being something I experienced with the other pregnancies, my problem was just that I couldn't bend over to put my shoes on any more.
But I always could at least see my feet, even if I couldn't reach em'.

We all remember the famous line from Star Wars (well ok, mom, you may not. But everyone else does) when Old Ben Kenobi mystically waves his hand at the troopers and says "These are not the droids you're looking for."


It's one of the first peeks at the power of the force.

I wish I could harness some of that Jedi mind-trick stuff and use it on myself.

Because every time I look down at these over-inflated flippers, I say to myself "These are not the feet you're looking for" and I wish I could experience that whole "I can't even see my feet now" thing.

These suckers can't be mine.
(I apologize for ailing you all with the nasty visual)


Tim took this a couple days ago and I couldn't be happier that my feet are cut off.

When describing what it feels like to be 8 months pregnant,

two memorable movies come to mind.

Number one, the sci-fi flick Alien. Because I don't care how miraculous it is to grow a living thing inside of you, it's still a living thing inside of you poking and pushing it's way around so much a woman's belly can resemble a water balloon filled with angry gremlins.

And Ghostbusters, because the rest of her is about as happy and fluffy as the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man waddling heavily through the streets of Chicago, (or is it NY?) happy and jolly on the outside, but ready to stomp on the next person who says how cute she looks.

Trust me, angry gremlins in your tummy and feet as big as Michelin tires do not feel "cute".

But please feel free to tell her how her lovely glow (sweat and acne) really emphasizes her femininity (robust curves). Just make sure you are offering a hot fudge mint chocolate chip cheesecake sundae with a warm chocolate pop tart on top while you say it.