This is what happens when you sneak away to take a nap and leave the camera with your husband.

It's

just
too

funny!
On Sunday Annike wasn't feeling well, so the two of us took a nap. In the top picture are the three BFFs, Taylor, Maddie and Petra (all 7-years old). According to Petra, it was all Taylor's idea, including the wiffle ball boobies. Needless to say, Lars was snapping pictures like he was shooting the cover of Vogue. The 3rd picture from the top is my little Petra, that is a bike helmet stuffed in her shirt. Maddie, bottom pic, has a basketball baby and Taylor used a size 3 soccer ball.

Green Snot

Annike has a cold, green snot and a fever of 102. I'm doing my darndest to keep Sweet Baby Ultimette in the oven until Annike clears this junk.
Everything went well at my appointment on Friday. Mr Doctor OB was sweet and kind. The fluid is no more and no less, and therefore stable. Her NST was reactive right away. Lars had a little baby shower at work. Maggie got groomed yesterday. Petra had her final soccer game this weekend. Laundry is done. The floors need to be vacuumed, but my darling husband just walked in the door after a nice soccer game with his big boy friends so I figure he's probably all fired up to get the Hoover out.
It's November 23rd and all of our windows and doors are wide open. Humming birds are flying in and out of our fruit trees, there's a walking stick sitting in our front yard and Maggie is basking in a sun puddle. Very odd this Southern California place is, very odd.

Sleeping

We were all sleeping last night when Lars went through the house snapping pictures of everyone.

These two little guys fell asleep in Annike's bed.
Sleeping Beauty was up late reading Ramona Quimby Age 8.

This is my belly at 38-weeks pregnant, longer than I made it with Soren, not quite as long as I made it with Petra or Annike. Both Ultimette and I were in a deep sleep.

I hope you all sleep well tonight.

When the going gets rough . . .

When the going gets rough, the tough find a spot on the couch pillows and curl up like a cute little Baby Man Monster.

Preggie/Baby Update . . .
I am term, I have been for a week. It's good to have that behind me. Now it's time to fatten her up. I went in yesterday for my biweekly NST (every Tuesday and Friday). It took over an hour to get her 'reactive' for 20-minutes, I finally had to ask them to use the acoustic stimulator on her. She measured 2-1/2 weeks behind, which may or may not be significant because the confidence interval at term is 2-weeks and 3-weeks in some cases. Annike measured small, too, but then again she was small. My amniotic fluid was on the borderline. I was contracting every 2-minutes. The physician who saw me, Dr TER, suggested we head over to the hospital and deliver her right then and there. I declined, but only by a narrow margin. I wasn't emotionally ready. The group that I see is very respectful of my professional training and has always been collegial with me. Because the Santa Ana winds are fierce right now and it's been hot, I suggested that the fluid and contractions were probably dehydration. We made a plan for me to rehydrate and then we'll re-evaluate on Friday when I see Mr Doctor OB (oooh, shiver). I'm fairly certain that I've since caused major setbacks in the Arctic with the vast quantities of ice I've been eating and there's most certainly been a noticeable decrease in the water levels of the Colorado River due to all the fresh water I've downed. I'm a tryin' to eat and eat and eat to fatten up this little punk (who still has no name, unless you count Annike's suggestion of Pineapple Peach Legoland Mariposa). This was my last week at work, tomorrow marks my official Day 1 of leave. I'm second guessing that decision now, kind of wishing I was working a bit longer because my mind has a tendency to wander. I did, however, get all my delinquent charts signed off over in medical records and my patients are all tucked in until I get back from leave (though I will think about all my little muchachas frequently and with longing). I bought some newborn diapers and some BPA free bottles. My hospital bag is packed, I even included deodorant for Larsy in there. Lars is scheduled for a 9 am haircut tomorrow. The kids are peaceful and calm about everything. My mom (bless her heart) made arrangements to cross, yet again, over major time zones to be here for us starting on the 24th (her arrival can't come soon enough)-- as you may recall, she was recently in France acculturating Baby Milo to his French side and saying goodbye to a dear friend (Remy) who is succumbing to cancer and renal failure. Maggie has her Petmobile beauty treatment with Crazy Leslee on Saturday morning. I've washed the couch, yes washed it (good ol' IKEA). My cesarean is scheduled for 11/28 (due to the placentation issues). Soren and Ultimette's room is done! My boobs are ret to go, nursing pads on hand. Lars will begin driving in to work as opposed to taking the train from now on. So you see my friends, if Friday is the day, then so be it because all my ducks are in a row, poop is in a group, the hamster is alive and the wheel is spinnin'.

Funny Little Annike

It's going to sound all wrong . . .

I was scolding Soren for leaving his lunch box on the floor, I told him it made us look like a White Trash family with all the mess. Annike responded:
"Ackally it's a grey trash, Mommy." We have a silver trash can.

Annike goes to Montessori preschool. Recently she taught us all The Continents Song. Lars asked her a question, she responded:
"Asia is the yellow one." (On the continents puzzle map, Asia is a yellow puzzle piece.)

And now, one of my all time favorites -- and one that I've already shared; in response to the Prop 8 supporters, she yelled to them out the car window a poem that she wrote herself:
"Gay is great! No on 8!"

Solution

The Manicure and Pedicure

A tired, young midwife with feet she can't reach

With hands that are dry and smell much like bleach

A mother, as well, with never any time to spare

Time spent on her digits seems a wasteful care

But then in September as a birthday gift

A certificate was given, meant to be a mood lift

Though much appreciated, alas it was forgotten

Til one day she noted that her feet did look rotten

"Oh me, oh my" at the top of her lungs she did holler

Suddenly, she remembered the certificate worth $30-dollar

What could be nicer on a day like today

Where all three children are out of her way?

A trip to the Nail Lounge is in order, of course!

She squealed with delight til her poor throat was hoarse.

Unaccustomed to glamour or such lavish niceties

She nervously walked in with self-doubting anxieties

"Is it okay to have services just expressly for me?"

Oh, silly Kelly, go on in after all it is free!

She was reluctantly led to a posh looking chair

That, when she sat on it, massaged her with care

Her feet were placed in hot water with oil

An exceptional relief considering how they do toil

The staff was so kind, "your tummy! so big! 4th baby!

sit here, pick a color! I make you better, just maybe!"

And with that it began in the vibrating recliner

that she promptly fell asleep dreaming of food from a diner.

The fingers were soaked and acupressure applied

A clear coat of polish and her nail beds revived

The arms were rolled around like a sausage is made

Kelly continued to doze, her aches and pains soon did fade

The feet were then scraped and scratched with a file

Her legs were massaged, on her face was a smile

The color for toes was picked with intention and great heed

For it's the color of healthy blood, something Kelly does need

Too soon it was over, she was helped from that blessed chair

The most comfortable she'd been since the fetus was put way down 'there'

The certificate handed over, but also a nice tip

How she wants to go back! Make it a weekly trip.

And now she is sleepy and cocoa butter scented

Never has such a perfect service been invented

She will soon eat a grapefruit and then lay down in her bed

That's all there is to tell, enough has been said.

So Many Good Feelings

The following is from my friend, K:

Langston Hughes wrote, in part:

"Let America be America again--
The land that never has been yet--
And yet must be--the land where every man is free.
The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME--
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again."


Our mighty dream is back. My brown child can see other brown children playing with their puppy on the White House lawn. America's children will see a black man as president and it'll be no big deal. Our children will remember being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night because this is That Important; when they're older they'll understand its importance.


On another note, many of you have asked about Prop 8. I heard on NPR this morning that the Yes has just about 52% and the No has a solid 48%. It is still undecided because oly 96% of the votes have been tallied, the remaining 4% could be the difference. If I was the type to do so, I may get down on my knees and pray. The Yes On Prop 8 folks have announced victory, though. Prop 2 passed, which means that by 2015, livestock in California will have more "elbow room." Prop 4 has also been defeated. Those are the biggies.

The kids are thrilled with the news of the new president. At first, Annike thought that John McCain had won because Mommy, Daddy, Karah and Grandpa Lee were all crying. We made sure to confirm with her that it will, indeed, be Barack Obama. This morning she woke up (after a late night of watching the entire concession and acceptance speeches) singing about "Rockama Bama."

Yes! We have!

Wooohoooo!

Yes! We can!

It's not quite 1:00pm here and I feel like I've changed the world already.

I couldn't sleep last night, tossing and turning thinking about the new president, Prop 8, and a pregnant teenager of mine. But, this morning I felt ready and very positive. The kids were so excited for Mommy and Daddy to go vote and change the world. Annike couldn't stop talking about "Rocka Bama," and Petra was doing her usual muttering about Prop 8. Before we left the house Lars put the You Tube video "Yes! We Can!" on repeat.

It was a good morning because Mother Earth thought to send rain showers, actual rain like we used to get in Michigan. It felt a bit Noah's Ark-ish, as if this morning represents a good cleansing after an episode of horrid amorality. It really lifted my spirits. I took this as a good sign. Together, Lars and I took the kids to school, swinging Annike through the parking lot over puddles. I was feeling so darn positive. Another good sign.

We went to my NST, Ultimette did her job and had 4-accelerations in her heart rate in the first 15-minutes of monitoring her. A very good sign. My amniotic fluid index was over 10 cms. Yet another good sign.

Lars and I went over to our polling site, a cute little liberal church tucked into a residential neighborhood. We walked in, no line. Another good sign. The volunteers running the polling site were sweet and kind and thanked us for voting. I filled in my ballot - yes on 2, no on 4, no on 8. Yes for change. I walked out sobbing, heaving. I felt grateful for the opportunity. I felt grateful that after years of voting for conservatives, my well-known federal judge grandfather is voting for a Democrat for what could be the first time in his life -- he's in his 90's! I was grateful that my mom, who is in France with my brother and SIL and beautiful nephew, was able to vote weeks ago by absentee. I felt grateful that since I've had the right to vote, 3 out of 4 of the presidential elections I have been pregnant and finally this time I feel so very good about my candidate. I'm very grateful to Ultimette, who kept her buns in my oven long enough for me to vote. I'm grateful that the No! on Prop 8 people were out on streets in the pouring rain this morning. I feel like all the signs are pointing to yes.

I came home with plenty of energy. I've cleaned the bathrooms, started the laundry, begun the dusting and cleaned the rooms. I started sorting and washing the baby clothes and organizing a few things for Baby Ultimette's arrival.

Finally, my dear friend Jess (she caught my Baby Annike, I caught her Baby Ella) sent two boxes of baby clothes that Ella had worn after my kids wore them. In one of the boxes, I found a cute little bunting that Grandma Peg had bought for Annike just days before Grandma Peg passed away. Grandma Peg's real name is Margaret, as you may remember, she is Ultimette's namesake. I saw that little nightie and all my will-power left my body. I just sobbed and sobbed, then I blew my nose on the bunting cause there weren't no tissue. Don't worry, it's going straight to the wash.

I'm going to keep smiling all day. I'm going to stay positive. I've done what I can. I just know it's going to be okay. And then, just for good measure, I'm going to keep "Yes! We Can!" on repeat just like my husband instructed me to. We're not turning it off until the last of the votes are tallied and the results are announced.

What's happening . . .

Life is good, here's what has been happening . . .

I got to snuggle my little baby at my big baby's soccer practice while we talked about our new baby.

Petra had a soccer game in the priciest zip-code in the USA.
Bubba got some hugs from his California granddaughters.

Lars and Bubba took Soren for his first 18-holes of golf.

I'm told Soren golfed well, golfing around a 156 +/-.

Lars took Petra and Soren to the lagoon.

Soren did some nature observing with his pirate spy glass.

Dirt jumpers.

They did some wildlife stuff.

This little lagoon monster followed them home and stuck Q-tips in her facial orifices.

Our tap dancing witch.

Cowboy Soren.

All us adults dressed as ghosts, Karah's ghost wore a tiara, threw gang signs and drank vodka cranberries out of sippy cups.

Cute Kaitlyn was a candy corn.

Jeff, the dearly departed Mexican.

Janelle was a housewife ghost.

Lars was a Middle Eastern beer drinking ghost.

Mouthless.

All the little pookies.

I was the ghost who wore my children's Halloween costume accessories as they got sick of them.

I had to drag this poor girl through the street 'cuz her wegs were tiwed. I needed candy though, I was like a pushy stage mother, "you get up to those doors and say 'trick-or-treat please' and then take everything they offer you."

Maddie and Annabeaner took a break.

Lars' pumpkin, Annike's pumpkin, Soren's pumpkin and Petra's pumpkin.

Annike the Arm at her final t-ball game of the season.

Bubba helped warm her up for the big game.

"Go Sharks!"

And that, my friends, was the gist of our weekend.