A few pictures of Baby Ansley

22 days

22 days? Ansley counted out the days on the calender on my phone this morning. I have had exactly ZERO people tell me I will make it that far...which I hope does not mean that I will go way overdue just because life tends to be ironic like that.

I don't really know when she is coming. It would be nice, because of a potential off the radar flyby of a certain brother of mine, if it happened at one time more than another, but I really have no feelings as to when it might happen.

Am I ready?
YES.

I don't remember being quite so whiny with my other two. Maybe God helps erase the memory of the challenges that come with pregnancy. I have heard several people suggest as much. I have never had trouble sleeping in my life. The past few months? I lie there wide awake for hours. They tell you not to lay there if you aren't sleeping. To get up and do something, but not anything that has a screen (tv, phone) because that stimulates your brain and causes you not to get sleepy. .... Um, what does one do at 2am? So I read some (but oops, that is on a kindle) and I go to the bathroom every 20-30 minutes. Am I going to clean something? Or do laundry. Not hardly.
I also seem to have developed the heartburn from hell. Heartburn, reflux, whatever you want to call it. It. Is. Awful. I went from eating Tums like candy to zantac twice a day, and when I go to the dr tomorrow, I will be getting a prescription for something stronger b/c zantac is no longer cutting it every 12 hours. I am barely making it 8 before the fire starts in my chest and throat. It is no joke, yall. (See, told you I am whiny these days.)

On the positive side - I am relishing the movements of our soon to arrive baby girl. The kids have spent lots of time feeling her move, singing to her, talking to her, asking her when she is coming out (I would like to know that same). I think she has run out of some of her room though - its more jabs than rolls that I am feeling.

My blood pressure seems to be hanging in there. I can certainly feel when it goes up. I feel awful when it does happen. I don't even have to look at the cuff reading to know when it is up. But they fact that I am still pregnant and not on bed-rest 24 hours a day is good news really. She needs to be ready when she comes.

What a special time for us though. I said this back a few months ago, but this is really "our baby." as a family. We talk about her as if she belongs to each one of us, and she does. She has a daddy who is so fabulous (side note to any guys who read this. Women LOVE a man who is a hands on, encouraging and loving daddy.), she has a sister who will see to it that her every need is met and a big brother who is ready to teach her to kick a soccer ball and pump her legs to swing without being pushed.

I am ready to see her. To know this person who I spend 24 hours a day with right now, but can't see quite yet.

We are waiting baby girl. Whenever you are ready, so are we.

Why I love my kid. Or. The truth about Easter Egg hunts.

to start, we are on the countdown. 4 weeks or so until D-day. Sometimes I am ready for her to be here NOW. Sometimes it scares me to death. Not having her I mean,  but rather the whole OMG I have three kids thing.

But for now, we wait. And we are excited.

My kids are definitely their own little people. Very different in many ways, but also very similar in personality. One clear example of this is their general opinion on the topic of Easter Egg hunts.
As in, Stephen flat out thinks there is a better way to do them.
In his folder from school today, I found an invitation to a schoolwide breakfast and Easter Egg hunt.
Me: Would you like to go, Stephen?
Stephen: No. I mean, I will go eat. But I am not gonna hunt anything.
Me: But, why? It will be fun I think.
Stephen: No. Kids run around and grab the eggs and then say who has the most. I will go to eat. I don't want to hunt in that kind of egg hunt.
Me: What kind of egg hunt would you like?
Stephen: I like egg hunts where I can see the egg far off. It would be blue or green. Not pink or purple. I would see it way over there (he lifts his little hand and points his finger off in the distance) and I would run to get it like a cheetah. And no one would beat me to it. And I would not take their eggs while they were running either.

I am not sure sometimes how I got so lucky to have this boy here with me. 


In all honesty, he did participate in one egg hunt last year, and he did fine. But the church Easter Egg hunt is kind of a special event. There is an ABUNDANCE of eggs and typically each kid has an adult assigned to him or her to make sure that their kid becomes neither the kid knocking others over for eggs or the kid being knocked over. It is the least stressful egg hunt I have ever seen and he did fine and enjoyed himself very much. But I suppose the thought of competing with kids on 5 different grade levels is not very appealing to him. I can't say I blame him much.

So we may go for the pancakes, and I may offer to let him participate a few more times just to give him the option.

But I love this little boy just as he is. Running like a cheetah across a field of green grass (Time me, mama. See how fast I am gonna run.) His eyes set on the prize a bright blue Easter egg. My heart, outside of me, running with his every step. (Yes, baby, you are fast. You are fast and you are good.)

Flashback Monday - Baby Ansley

 

DISCLAIMER - pretty sure we had just moved into this house when we filmed this and pretty sure I was either about 10 months pregnant or just had a baby - so please ignore the state of the house. 

And now, Enjoy, being sure to pay attention to the subtle head moves and the leg move (her signature move there for a while at age 2 and 3. 

 

Older

Probably two to three years ago I went to hear a speaker - a localish author of a few parenting books. After it was over we happened to be introduced. She asked me about my children and I replied I had one boy and one girl. Her reply? "Oh, that is good you have one boy and one girl. You can be done having babies. "

In all honesty, I was stunned. Completely. Enough to make me silent - and me being silent does not happen all that much.

I am adult enough to understand she did not mean anything truly negative by it (I hope, anyway), but how in the world did she know I wasn't standing there pregnant with triplets, or that we weren't in the process of trying, or that we had recently suffered a pregnancy loss - none of those were true of course, but my goodness.

If anything - the 10 second conversation did two things for me. One, I pretty much knew then and there that we were NOT in fact done having children. Whether I birthed them myself or someone else did before they were in my arms, the Duke family was by no means complete.
And two, I learned that my comments regarding someone else's reproductive and/or family life should be carefully worded or just plain left out of a conversation.

I am not one to take much personally, and honestly, I wasn't so much offended by the conversation as I was enlightened by it. I have countless friends who have struggled with issues such as infertility, adoption heartache, pregnancy complications, pregnancy loss, infant loss and much more. They have faced these issues with much grace and wisdom. I assume nothing with anyone. I don't assume you are through having kids. I don't assume you want more. I don't assume that because you have three girls that you are dying to have a boy (or vice versa). I don't assume that if you have no current children that it is because you don't want them. I just don't assume. There are thoughtful ways to be friendly, polite, encouraging and interested without assuming. I am sure I have said things I shouldn't have before with regards to someone else's family. But from my conversation described above, I sure am more careful with my words now.

Do yall get tired of me talking about lessons from my mama? If so, stop reading I suppose.  If not, here you go. My mama told me you never know what someone is dealing with and the older I get the more I know this to be true. We can't know. We can't know if someone spent the evening caring for a gravely ill child or parent. We can't know if someone spent their childhood being called stupid, being told to shut up, being smacked around for no reason at all. We can't know if someone is worried about their job, or the choices their spouse or child have made, or if the lights will still be on when they get home that night. This is not something to remember so that we are compelled to feel sorry for other people. This is something to remind us that we are all human. We all arrive at the place where we are now with some amount of history. Perhaps this is where the term compassion comes into play. Its not charity. Its not letting people walk over you or hurt your feelings or treat you in an unfair or mean way. It is simply seeing things differently.

I suppose seeing people, seeing situations differently is what comes from growing older. Aren't the young described as rash? Quick to anger. Quick to give a snappy or stinging comeback?
Perhaps as we are older - bigger - we can see more that what is in front of us. And perhaps more of what it is in us as well.


“Aslan,” said Lucy, “you're bigger.”
“That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.
“Not because you are?”
“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”
Prince Caspian – Chapter 10