Going Away

Our view during breakfast

I am beyond excited that the hubby and I get to go away for one night this weekend. I seem to wait until my breaking point from exhaustion and over exposure until I change something. So, this is the first time in 3 1/2 years that Steve and I will be spending the night away from the kids.

Just so you know a little bit more about how neurotic I am, I decided while writing this that I would not post it until we came back in case some stranger (I am sure I have quite an extensive blog reader list, not) decided to take advantage of our parental absence and steal our children or harass our babysitter.

Anyway, back to my point. We are going away, dinner, spas, massages, no one asking to go potty in the middle of the night, no replacing pacifiers in hopes of 30 more minutes of sleep. I may never come back....

Okay, with a little coaxing, and a look at the bill for one night, I decided to return home. It was so AWESOME!

I had absolutely no anxiety leaving the kids. Which I believe is due mostly to the fact I was leaving them in such capable hands. Nolen was napping, and Aiden gave me kiss and told me he would miss me. Off we went, just the hubby and me.

Our arrival was prompt, and valet was a perk. I always feel very fancy when someone else takes my car and parks it. Check in was lovely, we were offered savory candy, and given directions to room 205. The room was lovely. The resort is lovely. Filled with all sorts of beautiful rock and wood work and touches of nature. It is very peaceful.

We hung out in the room for a few minutes, then off we went to take advantage of the tea and cookies in the library. It was very quiet, and the fire was going. I sipped orange tea and ate lemon cookies and Steve and I played tic tac toe. I really started to think I may have slipped into a Jane Austen novel.

Back to the room to change into our spa attire. The first trip up and down the hallway, in the elevator, past several people, up to the spa, seemed a little awkward in a terry cloth robe and flip flops, but that is what the staff encouraged. And of course, when in Rome...

The spa was so relaxing. The sound of cascading water drowned out any conversation. The large hot tubs made of rock, and the lemon water for sipping all helped to ease any tension we had arrived with. Of course, I can not participate in grown up activity with out embarrassing myself at least slightly. Being 35 weeks pregnant I could not soak for long in the hot water and I tried to gracefully sit on the ledge next to the pool, so I could dangle my legs in the water, but not over heat. Well, I am not graceful even when I am not largely pregnant, so when I ever so delicately sat down, some entirely mortifying noise was created by the suction between my butt and the wet stone. Yes, it sounded like the biggest wettest fart you could imagine. Not even the cascading noise of the water fall drowned it out from the couple at the other end of the tub hearing. I couldn't just pretend it didn't happen, so I said, with the color in my face rising, "It wasn't me, it was the stone". By the looks on their faces I am pretty sure I wasn't convincing. But hey, what is a relaxing soak in the spa without a giant fart noise to liven things up.

Anyhow, we left shortly after, nothing to do with wanting never to see those people again, which we did at dinner a mere two hours later.
Dinner was good. Very good. The service was fabulous. I have never had someone switch out napkins so the napkin would match my pants, but they think of everything at this place. Crumbs were promptly scrapped away, drinks were refilled timely. The atmosphere was that of sophistication and elegance. And we were able, hang on to your hats folks, TALK! We had two whole hours of conversation! And we actually talked about things other than poop, and teething, and preschool choices.

Back to the room for an uninterrupted viewing of Marley and Me. How fun is it to watch a whole movie without taking someone to the potty?

A night of quiet, uninterrupted sleep, except of course the many trips to the bathroom one has to make while pregnant.

The next morning the breakfast was, if possible, even better than dinner. A breathtaking view of the falls and mountains, gorgeous blue sky, which no one from western Washington ever takes for granted, and a rainbow to tie it all together. I cant say enough about the food, sure I may be biased due to the fact I would eat a horse if I could fit it in my stomach, but seriously the food, good. And the service, man everyone was so nice, and helpful, and not snooty at all.

Oh, I forgot to mention the magical part of the place. It was the tiny little silverware which made me feel like a giant, and the giant spa chairs that made me feel like a tiny kid. Not too many places make you think you may have dropped into some sort of Alice and Wonderland. Can you tell I don't frequent sophisticated venues all that often? I think I may have given myself away as some sort of hill billy.

Okay, last but not least, the couples fireside massage. Cool, but would have been just as good if I were by myself, no offence husband. It was everything you could want in a massage. Plus, they even had a table with a big belly cut out so I could lay on my stomach. This of course did little to ease my breathing panic issues, but I was able to mostly relax after the first 20 minutes of debating whether or not to jump up and run out.

So, night away without the kids, priceless.

And a big shout out to Deb who watched the kids, and the dog, who incidentally ran away (the dog, not the kids), and had to be chased down by car, and lured home with treats. Ellie, it is a good thing we picked Marley and Me, you have a little extra grace because of a sentimental movie. Dont push your luck though.

Are you sure your not having twins?

Is there really ever a time that is appropriate to tell someone, "gosh you are really big"? No, no there is not. And some people think that when one is pregnant it is free reign to comment on appearance. I am pretty sure no one ever wants to be told they look really big. And if a person is big, or bigger than they normally are, they know it. Trust me, you informing them of their additional size is not enlightening them to something totally new.

I think the most dangerous time to comment on someones size is when they are pregnant. There are many more hormones racing around a very tired, overwhelmed, and exhausted body. Especially, when one has gone to much trouble to shower, and appear presentable all whilst wrangling two other small children who are hell bent on making sure their mother never looks like she has seen a hair brush or makeup.

Let me give you some advise, only say things like: You look wonderful. You are so tiny! You look amazing. OR novel idea, say nothing at all - haven't you people ever heard "if you don't have something nice to say, then don't say anything at all". PLEASE. Yes, I am oversensitive, I am pregnant with my THIRD child. I do on some level understand that these comments are not intended to hurt my feelings, and the person offering them is only trying to make a keen observation. But lets talk about the weather instead.

Okay, I am done with my rant. For now.

It Was Just Odd

This happened awhile ago, but I still think about it almost every time I take exit 20 off 405 south. The same homeless man is almost always standing on the corner of the off ramp at the light. He usually has a sign that says "Homeless and Hungry".

I generally am very skeptical of these people. I think, go get a job, do something besides take advantage of people. I am also confronted with my own fears of ending up like him. I don't think that much actually separates our lives. I am plagued with guilt for not sharing what I have.

My mom gives these people stuff all the time. Never money though. She will hand a half eaten granola bar out the window and they are so appreciative.

I on the other hand deliberated about what I could share for weeks before our next meeting. I finally settled on a big box of Costco crackers. I was nervous as I rolled down my window. He walked up hopefully and I hoisted up my treasure. Surely he had never seen such generosity! His smile quickly turned to a frown. "I cant take that, it is too big" "I could never eat all that."
WHAT? the sign says HUNGRY!! I say, "Oh, well just take one of the little packages then." "No, no, no thanks" he says as he turns away disappointed that I wasn't giving him money I guess.

My gift rejected by a homeless man.

I felt really silly, and also a little vindicated. I don't think this was a good thing to happen to me. Now I have to work twice as hard on my compassion.

Just weird that I couldnt give a hungry man a cracker. Weird.

To Sleep or NOT to Sleep

As we approach the looming date of adding another baby to the family one thing dominates many of my thoughts. Sleep. More specifically, how do I maximize the amount of sleep I can get?

We put the boys back in the same room. Nolen's room gets really hot in the summer, and he wakes up when the garage door opens/closes, and when the garbage trucks come. So back in with Aiden. We also relocated Ellie to their room. She drives me crazy being in our room. She wakes me up at least two times a night. Aiden gets up to pee once a night, and Nolen usually looses his pacifier once every night. These are just the "normal" things that wake us up every night.

So, no more pacifier for Nolen. Hopefully he will learn to sleep better without it.
No more Ellie in our room (the boys seem to be sleeping through her rituals) waking up to shake, turn 3 times, lick herself, etc...
Aiden is starting to sleep through the night better, when he doesn't fall out of bed or need to pee.

Last night we had one of the "abnormal" things wake us at 1am. A fire alarm battery needing to be changed. The biggest annoyance aside from being woke up, is that you have to determine which alarm needs the battery. So me upstairs in the hallway, Steve downstairs rummaging for batteries, we wait for the next chirp.

Why do they always need to be changed at night? Or is it just ours sabotaging our sleep?

Anyway, we have 8 more weeks to work on maximizing our sleep situation before Schwark baby #3 arrives and wakes us up every two hours.....

Isnt It Beautiful

I am considering re-arranging my laundry room. Right now it is small, in the way, dark, and my washer dryer are front loading without pedestals. This creates a problem for my pregnant self as it is difficult loading and unloading. I know, poor me.

Of course this dream laundry room is the size of my kitchen. Humm, maybe I could get rid of my kitchen and move the laundry room. After all I don't cook, but I am a laundry queen.

What Did You Learn In Sunday School?

Mommy: What did you learn in Sunday school?
Aiden: Umm, Ummm
Mommy: Did you talk about Jesus?
Aiden: Yes
Mommy: Did you learning about washing the disciples feet?
Aiden: that it was gross

At least he doesn't go around stealing all the toys from the smaller babies like Nolen.

Now Completely Founded Fear

I was totally freaked out about visiting our zoo after the tiger and orangutan escape at other zoo's last year. It doesn't take much to set my mind to worry. I have what I would consider mostly irrational fears and therefore I ignore them and leave the house anyway.

When visiting our local zoo it has mostly been the "native" animals, ie. squirrels and crows that scare me the most. I have even been physically threatened and harassed by the them. During one visit a bold and probably rabies ridden squirrel came at me so persistently that I had to surrender part of my Starbucks donut just to distract him long enough so I could run in the other direction with my helpless babies. During the same unfortunate visit I exited the Willawong station to find a crow perched on my stroller rummaging through my belongings. When he spotted me coming to claim my items he took off with the rest of my Starbucks treat in claw.

But just last week on the news my irrational fears were substantiated. A monkey escaped its exhibit and the zoo had to be evacuated.

See I knew I wasn't completely crazy. By the way, we will still renew our zoo membership and brave the wilds.

I, yes I made a cake

I try really quite hard to be a good house wife. To me this means baking and cooking, to be more precise, good baking and cooking. Believe me I can burn things like nobodies business, and I often have the smoke alarms going. I usually find a recipe, give my best, and come out very disappointed, go to the store and buy what I wanted made. So sad.

But this is a happy story! I made a cake....from scratch....and it worked! I liked it and more importantly two picky little kids liked it too! It is so great that it is all natural ingredients, no hydrogenated high fructose stuff. It didnt have a ton of sugar either.

So here it is thanks to this fabulous lady at www.se7en.org.za

CAKE RECIPE

I didn't take any pictures of mine, because to be honest I wanted to eat it so badly I could barely wait for it to cool. I just cut pieces out hastily and poured frosting on individually. You can look at her pictures they are very cute and maybe next time I wont be in such a pregnancy induced sugar craving that I can take a moment and make mine look cute too.

by the way the picture is of a Martha Stewart ricekrispiecookie cake....I think that sounds supberb too!

I Like, I Hate

I LIKE:

• Secret fit belly maternity jeans, I may never go back to "real" jeans
  
• Craigslist, for buying and selling
• Bedtime, for me and especially the kids
  
• Clutter free home, thank you nesting stage of pregnancy
  
• My housekeeper
  
• Starbucks tea lattes
• Funny friends
• Cheaper by the Dozen, I read it once or twice a year
  
• People with lots of kids who blog about their cool ideas
  
• Play mates for Aiden, they are so much better at make believe than I
• Feeling baby move
• Costco
• Sunshine, can I get some more PLEASE
• Watching Aiden help Nolen
• Good smelling soap, particularly something with citrus
  
• A one year olds fat little feet, watching them putter around
  

I HATE:

• Pee on the toilet seat, more accurately, sitting in the pee on the toilet seat
• The wee hours of the morning when some tiny person wakes me up
• My recliner that threatens to eat me alive everyday, and consistently looses bolts
• My dirty floor
• The question "why" x 1million per day
• babies getting teeth
• babies getting shots
• watching my stomach get fatter and fatter
  

My Floor Talks

Give me your bark dust, your dirt, your dog poo, your moldy leaves and grass. The barf from the baby. Send these bits of grime and grossness to me. I welcome you through the front door, the sliding glass door, and the garage.

I can hear my floor most loudly in the three hours after it has been freshly mopped.

Battle of the Unders

I maybe wouldn't be so acutely aware of our lack of readiness except that I have the sweetest friend who seems to me to be constantly well prepared for life. She stopped by with her THREE girls, one newborn (c-section, yes the woman just had major surgery and she can still manage all this) with a Christmas gift. She looked like she just stepped out of a JCREW magazine. I meanwhile hadn't managed to get out of my pj's (surely I could have found time to don a bra sometime before three in the afternoon, but sadly I had not). So with arms crossed trying to block the view of my messy house and half naked wild children I thanked her profusely and vowed to dress my family everyday.

We call underwear "unders". I don't know why. But here is the thing, all I see all day long are unders. I cant keep my kids dressed. I nurtured this unfortunate habit while I was drowning in morning sickness. I could have cared less who was wearing or not wearing what. But now I am making a valiant attempt to dress everyone, even myself, every morning. After breakfast Nolen's first outfit is trashed, so off it comes. I optimistically think to myself I will redress him after his morning nap. But this is just wishful thinking unless we are going somewhere that requires "no shoes, no shirt, no service". Aiden does okay usually until after lunch, then there is some sort of accident, water, food, scissors, etc..that necessitates the removal of either pants or shirt. Then by three or so he just decides he wasn't meant to wear clothes and they quietly disappear.

I guess I will just be thankful that he does NOT like to be completely naked and always runs to get unders.