7 Quick Takes

One

The four oldest children have gone for the whole day to be with T and K, our old neighbors. K is going to college on Sunday and we are all desperately sad. How did this happen? How will we all live without her? They are all going to have a long fat laden day of swimming and junk food probably.

And I, hmmm, what am I going to do for a whole day without any children? Well, I guess the baby counts as a whole child, but, as Matt always says, ‘having one child around is essentially like having no children. Its that easy.’ I’m frankly lonely, specially since she’s already gone back to sleep for the morning. What am I supposed to do? Work out (cough)? Vacuum? Get ready for school (HaaaHaaaa)? Sit around and watch Matt write a sermon?

I finally went to the doctor this week. Kept forgetting to call and was vaguely afraid of forgetting to go once I called. At each level of being plugged back into the system, whoever was talking to me would shriek when they realized how far along I am–this sort of upward tilting piercing shriek that would launch me into one and a half minutes of apology.

How far along am I? 16 weeks. Doesn’t seem that much to me. However, I am used to the first ultrasound picture being a tiny little cute floating peanut, but this first ultra sound picture was of an actual fairly large headed baby. Just a tiny shock there. ‘That’s definitely a boy,’ said Matt, when I came home, ‘that head, that’s definitely a boy.’
‘Yeah right,’ I said, ‘dream on. You’re going to have three little girls running around fussing about their tights and whether or not its their turn for the wretched princess bowl.’ Matt is a sucker for baby girls.

Another shock was being reminded over and over again about my age by the doctor. ‘Well, as girls get older,’ she would say. Or, ‘The high sugar is probably a fluke, but as girls get older…’ Wanted to over react. I’m not old. Ordinarily everyone things I’m amazingly young to have all these children. But I guess I am older than I was yesterday. And I’ll be even older on Sunday when I turn 34.

The children have been giving me strange little birthday presents all week. Romulus brought me a small box with a tiny figure of superwoman (how did we acquire this toy?) in it. Gladys tried to take it away from me.
‘That’s my supewgwil,’ she said.
‘No its not,’ I said, ‘Womulus gave it to me. Now its mine!’
She trailed out of the room shouting ‘Daddyyyyyyyyyy, Mommyyyyy’s twying to take my swupewgwil!!!

What am I going to do for my birthday? Go to church, I expect, since is Sunday. And then make myself a blackberry pie in the afternoon.

Go check out Jen!