Odds and Ends

A few weeks ago I told a friend I was surprised by the reaction I have gotten from strangers regarding my pregnancy. Literally, I had received nothing but kind, encouraging remarks. That is until Tuesday. On Tuesday, the lady at the post office, (and Marc can vouch for this, he was there) told me when she found out we had three boys that she had two boys and was smart enough to stop there. Nice, right? Then yesterday at in the doctor's office waiting room a patient walked in and told the other pregnant lady there and myself that she wished she was almost done like we were. The other lady said nothing. I told her I wasn't almost done but maybe I was in relation to her time left. Then she said she was 6 months along and due in June. I'm 6 months along and due May 30th. I just look like I should be farther along, I guess. Then she started telling Christian she wished she was having a boy but she was having a girl. When we said (Marc was there for this one, too) we were having our first girl after 3 boys, she began telling us how terribly difficult baby girls are: they are demanding, emotional, dramatic etc, etc. I just hate it when people tell me those things about baby girls, anticipating that my baby girl will be exactly like theirs. I know that this baby will be different in a lot of ways than my boys, but I do not think that every baby girl comes out and fits into one mold. All kids are different so just because this little girl or that little girl does this and that doesn't mean mine will be the same. She might, but I say leave some room for the might not. You know? . . . I tell my boys everyday to stop growing up. Carter has made huge progress in his reading lately and Anderson surprises me just about everyday with his logic and intelligence. It makes me proud and sad that they are growing so quickly. . . . After the comment from the lady at the Dr.'s office yesterday and then seeing myself in a dressing room mirror right afterwards, I think I might be in denial at how big I'm getting. I don't feel small but I also usually don't feel like a whale. But now I'm wondering if I'm delusional. The lady (unintentionally, albeit) and the mirror were not kind. . . . At 10 months (today!) Christian is crawling wherever he pleases, pulling himself up onto the first stair, a short toy, and to standing in his crib, and eating only big people food while also becoming picky. One day he'll like something, the next not so much, and then next it's fine again. Tonight he ate 2 tomatoes before deciding he only wanted his mac and cheese and he spit out every bite of avocado I fed him. But a few days ago he gobbled those veggies up. I love him. I wouldn't trade him for anything in the whole world especially when he grabs my face and then sticks his thumb in his mouth while still holding on. He doesn't do this to anyone else and it makes me feel special. But I am getting to the point where carrying him is a strain on my back. I hope I can manage the next few months. . . . I'm thinking about finding a pattern for the baby's blessing dress and having the dress made out of my wedding dress. But I'm afraid to put a final stamp on that decision. Is that a good idea or a bad one? What do you think? . . . Yesterday we had the guy who laid our carpet in the basement come fix a part that was coming up and also fix the carpet/tile transition to our master bath. It cost 90 bucks. A little steep in my opinion but I suppose it's good to have it done. After I paid him, he noticed that Christian's nose was crusty--remnants of the cold he's getting over and man does he HATE having his nose wiped so sometimes I leave the crusties on. The carpet guy "let me in on a little secret" because he has 4 kids of his own and has "done his research" and "doesn't trust doctors." There's some sort of magic in silver that is a cure all. You can get some sort of liquid form of it at vitamin stores and a few drops of it will cure anything. My say: "Thank you Mr. Carpet Guy. I trust you to lay carpet and that's about it. I do not trust the medical advice you give me because unlike you, I think the 8 years of book work that doctors do actually mean something. I think the 4 and sometime more practical work they have to do after those 8 years mean something. But I guess since I paid you $90, I'll listen, nod and thank you when you walk out the door."