Title: Weakness.

Again....no title because blogger won't allow it. Nice. 

So, I am getting in the car in 20 minutes. I am driving to Seattle. The driving alone will kill 5.5 hours roughly. 5.5 hours where I don't have to bend over, pick anyone or anything up, and I can cry all I want. I can can just sit there, drive and cry while my children zone out on Milo and Otis. 

I contracted ALL day yesterday, convinced that we'd be making our "child care phone calls" by mid-evening. Uh, no. Nope. Didn't happen. Then I went to bed. Then I woke up. Still pregnant. Still uncomfortable as hell, with a foot permanently lodged underneath my right ribcage. Still on the verge of tears. Redemptive suffering for me, personally? Totally okay. Important now and then, really. Self denial. Growth. Redemptive suffering for my three children and poor husband who never signed up to ride this ridiculous roller coaster? Redemptive suffering for a 17 month old whose Mommy can't really even play with him except from a chair because she's so uncomfortable? Not fair. Not at all. Nothing THEY signed up for.

So, I changed my appointment. I knew I might need to buy myself more time. I was supposed to have a doctor appointment this morning. I moved it to Thursday. After I see my midwife (who is really more like an allopathically trained physician who routinely practices medical inductions and who has induced me twice now) I will likely be induced on Thursday. I will likely feel like a failure, like something is just wrong with my body that I cannot seem to just cook a healthy child in a decent amount of time and then spit them out on my own. I will likely feel like I don't want to tell anyone how I feel. I will feel disappointed. I will wonder if this is all part of my own personal torment and suffering. I might also feel so relieved to be done with all of this. So relieved to have some mobility, a reprieve from daily tears, joy, frustration, exhaustion and irritation, from self-pity, and feelings of just being sick and tired of being sick and tired. The novelty has officially worn off. I have prayed rosaries. I have walked. I have prayed. I have walked. I have asked two different prayer groups I am in to pray. I have stayed busy and active.  I have tried natural induction methods. I have tried to "just relax". I have tried to distract. I have really tried to maintain a really positive outlook and complained as minimally as I could (with everyone except Steve, of course. Sorry, Love.) asking for grace MULTIPLE times throughout the day. 

Sometimes, it's okay to just lay it on the table. Right?

I can't do it anymore. 

Just when you're about to give into self-pity...

the daily Gospel reflection and prayer reminds you to try to be a little more like sheep. 

No title because blogger won't allow it. Good times. 

Please tell me it's okay to cry. I am so uncomfortable and really starting to give in to despair. I swear, if one more person calls me to ask if I've "had that baby yet", I am going to lose all grace. It's quite amazing the people that come out of the woodwork, people you don't hear from in six months, to ask you when you're going to have that baby. Why?

Hi. Just me. Still here. Getting bigger and bigger and....

A little cheese, mushroom and olive pizza and some Peter Pan. This Friday family night? It's sure to be a good distraction.

Learning lessons.

We had such a wonderful day yesterday, filled with a slice from a cherry pie made to feed 3,000 people, walking around listening to live Christian entertainment in a nearby small town called George. George, Washington.

There was BBQ-ing, contracting, lots of water for everyone, lots of heat to go around, festivities, minor crankiness (never from Mommy, of course), napping, fireworks until quite late, and more contracting. I know Steve was nervous about how I'd hold up throughout the day. I think I impressed him. Right, Honey?

I forgot one very important detail. Our children? They went out to our property with Daddy early in the morning. They met with Vic, our excavator. They climbed up in the track-hoe with Vic. They OPERATED it "for" Vic. They LOVED it. So, between fireworks, at giant cherry pie, and operating a $200,000.00 piece of machinery, the fact that they STILL haven't gotten to meet their newest little brother or sister seemed immaterial to them.

See? In God's time, not mine.

Added to the list.

Now my precious 17 month old can also say "No way!", "hat", "balloon", and "Thank you!".

What's that you asked? Can he say "Mommy"? Um, yeah. No.

Again, if I were the sensitive type I might take this personally. Thank goodness I am always calm, cool, collected and very rational about these sorts of things. Yes, thank goodness. Now, if you'll pass me the tissue..

Dud.

When I was in labor with Shepherd and peetered out at about 4 cm, finally needing to have induction medication, I took on the label "Dud". I was really hoping to redeem myself with this baby.

I am a very miniscule 1 cm dilated and 75% effaced. Dud?

You decide.

And, no, I don't care at all that it's supposed to be ONE HUNDRED AND TWO DEGREES outside over the 4th and 5th. I am perfectly content still being pregnant. I'll just be naked. Indoors. Sipping lemonade.

God, please help me to bring this baby forth like you designed. And soon. I am so sorry that I made a mistake when praying to you earlier on in my pregnancy. I prayed for patience. I'd like to scratch that now. Instead, can I pray for strength and excitement and no fear and ......expedition? Oh, great! Thank you! I love you. I knew you'd be totally cool with me changing my request.

Just me.

Still here.

Stay tuned.

Nothing but upsides.

In a little over an hour we have the second official meeting of the Elizabeth Group we kicked off a month ago. I am so excited to see the people I've been praying for again and to welcome any new faces. God willing, this group will just grow in strength and love--resulting in even stronger families in faith.

Then, I'm off to the baby shower that's being thrown in my honor (well, more like in the honor of this precious little person inside me). All gifts are going to be donations to Crossroads (our local crisis pregnancy center where I have volunteered for four years). Is that not the coolest idea?! A fellow prayer group member, volunteer at Crossroads, pregnant lady, and very good friend had this idea. I am so grateful for it. I think she hit it right on the money. I can't wait to tear into all those gifts and see what some very lucky, needy, and all too nervous mommies are going to be receiving.

Hopefully, all this excitement will thoroughly wear me out and I will sleep tonight. And then the baby will come out. Or not. We'll see. I'm cool with whatever. Really. I am. Hey, now the baby will surely have a July birthday just like me! Now that's worth waiting for.

iHuh.

I really want the new iPhone. I really do. Just to see what all the hype is about. If only I could figure out any of the buttons on my current, very simple phone. I am clearly not in Generation X or Generation Y.

Maybe more like Generation LY.

Nicole: The Putterer.

That's me. I am officially a "putterer".

How much longer can this continue?! Am I in labor or am I not? Day four and counting.

If only the feminists' angles were....

this:

"To a great extent the level of any civilization is the level of its womanhood. When a man loves a woman, he has to become worthy of her. The higher her virtue, the more her character, the more devoted she is to truth, justice, goodness, the more a man has to aspire to be worthy of her. The history of civilization could actually be written in terms of the level of its women." ~Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen

Whoa. Imagine the powerful marriages our culture would have!

Time?

We've poured foundation. We're pouring stem walls. We have power, a honey bucket, a trailer and wireless so Steve can start working from our property--instead of the little office space he's been renting downtown. We signed papers to close on our loan this morning.

Good thing the baby hasn't come just yet because, frankly? We just have no time to labor right now. Maybe tomorrow.

I'm still here.

I just thought I'd update in case anyone was starting to wonder if I had dropped 13 pounds or so in the last couple of days. I haven't. Not yet, anyway.

I had pro-dromal contractions almost all night last night, waking up only for the duration of the "cramp" and then going back to sleep. I must say, as crazy as it sounds, it was very cool. I really visualized what my uterus was doing, with each wave--the work that it was doing. I am really excited about labor. Prayers have been answered. Mine and others. I can really honestly say, I am not afraid. Only excitement fills me now. I know it will be a lot of work and intense, but I am not afraid of it.

I have had some indicators that labor is close but, as my husband asks, aren't most of them pretty correlational? For the most part, yes. But, I'll take em' anyway.

We are keeping busy, researching and buying a used second family car, excavating land, walking, going to swimming lessons, walking, cleaning, walking, reading, walking, and visiting friends and walking.

In other news, I seem to be finding myself making vats of chicken noodle soup and chicken enchiladas. It just seems the thing to do on this HOT summer day.

Happy 29th Birthday To My Sweet, Beautiful Husband.

I love you.

We are breaking ground today. We are having our land blessed at noon. We are blessed with three amazing children. We are about to welcome another member to our family any day. Our parents cheer us on and support us, our children see us as heroes, and our friends enrich us. Our faith sustains us. All of these make us grow. I am happy to grow right alongside you, Love. Every step of the way.


So appropriate is today's Gospel reading. Matthew 6:19-23:

..."For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be."

You might be tempted to think yourself insignificant in the life of your seventeen month old.

Don't.

So what if he can say "Bye Bye!", "Daddy!", "Doggy!", "Kitty!", "Hi", "Balloon!", "Dora", and "Night Night" but he can't say "Mommy"? It's No. Big. Deal.

He's not completely broken. At least he can 'high five' you. And in this house? That's a milestone.

How to know when you're nesting.

1) There doesn't seem to be enough bleach in the world.

2) You have been baking. Lots. To fill up the freezer. For when people come to see the baby.

3) When you're at the store you buy baby nail clippers. You have three children already, one of whom still requires baby nail clippers. But you buy new ones anyway. Because new babies need new baby nail clippers. All to themselves.

Bleach, nail clippers, and baked goods. One can just never be too prepared.

What could be more fun...

...than a freshly tilled dirt pile to play in every week at Grandma and Grandpa's house?

A dump truck dropping off ten more yards. Just for your playing pleasure.

This just in.

This came today in an update that I recieved from the American Life League:

Last week, Planned Parenthood quietly issued its latest annual report. As always, the report was packed with lies about its “mission” to provide “quality health care” to women.

The one big truth in the 20-page report is that it got a total of $305,300,000 in free tax-funding last year. That’s a whopping 11.95% increase over the $272,700,000 it got the year before.

Let’s put that $305,300,000 in two equally important perspectives:

Perspective #1: Last year, Planned Parenthood surgically aborted over 264,943 preborn babies. As a ratio to the funds it gets on the government dole, that’s $1,152 for each baby torn apart in the womb!

Perspective #2: During the same year, the top five national pro-life organizations continued to receive exactly ZERO dollars in government funding. In the first six months of 2007, our own contributions are $160,000 behind the same point last year. And we’re the number one enemy of Planned Parenthood!

Dear Lord, thank you for the beautiful life in my womb and thank you for the work of these pro-life organizations who operate without pay, government tax dollars, or recognition for the MILLIONS of lives they save. Please continue to bless them and their efforts until Roe v. Wade is finally overturned.

How can this be?

Am I really old enough now that my baby brother has graduated high school? That he's almost 18? That he might no longer need the advice of his older sister? Never. I refuse to give up the advice giving. He might not need me for much more than that but I am sure, the advice will always be welcomed. Right, Kellen? Always.

Paxton and I drove over yesterday and watched as my little brother (all 6'3 of him) walked down the aisle, picked up his diploma, and moved his tassle to the left. Another ending. And another beginning. We sat next to my mom, noticing the tears streaming down her face every now and then. I am sure it's the strangest combination of happiness, relief, pride, and sadness that's occuring. It's an ending and beginning. It's exciting and it's scary. It's taken forever to get him here and it's flown by, almost overnight.

Being a parent is probably the most profound thing to ever happen to someone. It makes us grow, it tests our resolve, it strengthens us, weakens us, transforms us. Most of us will never make it out unscathed. The upside? God gave us each and every child for a reason. Gave US. You and me. These children. A reason. He wouldn't have given them to us if He weren't also planning to equip us with the graces necessary to do our jobs. As Danielle Bean says in her book, "God doesn't call the equipped, He equips the called." We just have to keep listening and heeding the call.

As an aside, does anyone have ANY idea when they started having more than one valedictorian? LIke, say, oh I don't know, EIGHT? No kidding. My brother graduated from a fairly large high school in a bigger city. Does that warrent more than one valedictorian? Um....I'm thinking "NO". Is it a sign of the times? Are we just beginning to celebrate mediocrity? Isn't the valedictorian supposed to be that one stellar student that excelled in every area, not only academically but socially, emotionally, intellectually? That one student that goes above and beyond in every area ALL the time? Isn't that like having four or five mvp's in a game? That was just a head scratcher for me. Steve and I had already decided that we were homeschooling after the 6th grade, but that really drove the decision home for us. For the most part, we're a society that seems to be raising children and therefore adults, who believe they are special just because...well, just because. That, my friends, does not breed humility, motivation, charity, mercy, generosity or Christ's love for neighbor.

And aren't those virtues the ones which we most want our children to embody?