…can seem to bring two fighting boys from this:
(notice Patrick licking the tears from his lip…let’s hope it was tears and not boogies…although, at 6, who knows?)
…to this:
…in under a minute.
Thank goodness for Daddy!
…can seem to bring two fighting boys from this:
(notice Patrick licking the tears from his lip…let’s hope it was tears and not boogies…although, at 6, who knows?)
…to this:
…in under a minute.
Thank goodness for Daddy!
7:30 a.m.
The first morning of our winter break.
Can’t find Monkey Girl.
Check the basement.
Not playing xBox or Wii.
Check the playroom.
Not watching tv.
Where is she?
Sitting at the kitchen island, working on an old math workbook she found.
Too much.
She’s too much.
So, there are many people who are upset that we aren’t finding out the sex of the baby.
Some are jokingly upset.
Some, it truly makes anxious.
Yet, I believe that the most upset person was this woman on one of the pregnancy forums I visit online.
A woman I don’t even know.
She was adamant that we find out because if we don’t know the sex, we can’t definitively know the name of the child.
She said that we should be calling our baby by name right now, as it grows inside me, so that when it comes out, we can immediately call it by name and it will know what is going on.
Yes.
I’m sure that when the baby comes out, being able to say “Well, hello Stanley” or “Nice to finally see you, Doris” will make the baby forget that it has just been surgically removed from it’s warm happy place, held upside down, given a little smack under bright lights, and then been poked and prodded within an inch of it’s life.
Yep.
Hearing the name will help the baby say, “Oh…thank God! This was all a little disconcerting, but now that you’ve called me by name, it suddenly all makes sense!”
We’ll pick a name for either sex.
Eventually.
We’ll find out the sex when the baby arrives.
Lady, go get upset about someone else’s choices.
‘Cuz we’re doing fine.
‘Tis the season to be plotting.
Scheming.
Shushing each other when someone walks into the room.
Walked into the living room and the voices immediately quieted from these three who had their heads together.
Obviously planning something.
Let’s just hope they were using their powers for good and not evil.
So, about a month ago, Monkey Girl’s Nintendo DS Lite disappeared.
We’ve been looking for it ever since.
This week alone, we’ve thrown away 6 bags of broken toys and trash looking for this thing.
We have turned the house (and cars) upside down and inside out in the search.
The reigning theory was that my mother moved it when she was here “straightening up.”
However, Real Man proposed that perhaps Monkey in the Middle probably hid it from his brother, and forgot where he put it.
And now forgets that he even hid it.
This theory was solidified yesterday when I asked him where a different toy was and he pulled it from the couch cushions.
“Did you put that there on purpose?” I asked.
“Yep,” he replied. “I was afraid Baby Monkey would play with it.”
Hmmm…so, the plot thickened.
However, it was just yesterday that we also realized that the game case that has ALL of the DS games in it is ALSO missing.
So, I’m working on a new theory.
I think we went somewhere we were going to have to be for awhile and we packed the DS and the game case, and now they are together, somewhere, in a bag.
Or, they’ve been thrown away.
Anyway, I’m starting to wonder if perhaps it wasn’t ME who moved it in a bag we took somewhere.
At this point, it doesn’t matter.
I’m obsessing about it. I can’t be in a room without doing a visual scan, like you’d see in some Sci-Fi movie.
The room becomes a grid in my mind, and instead of ultraviolet light or heat lighting up my night vision, it is a small electronic toy that I am scanning for.
And never find.
When I get to feeling grinchy, I simply think of this girl.
She is, quite frankly, the kindest, sweetest, most generous soul I have ever known.
She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.
She loves everyone and wants nothing more than for everyone else to be happy.
If anyone has Christmas spirit, it is this girl.
And she has it every single day of the year.
She is my heart and I absolutely cannot imagine my life without her.
Monkey in the Middle is a concert God.
At least, in our family, he is.
Last night, he had his Winter Concert at school.
Due to lack of seating, we were relegated to the balcony, where I knew he’d never find us.
I wasn’t sure how that would go.
Would he look out and not find us and keep singing, or would he look out, not find us and freak out?
That boy looked for us the entire time he sang.
He never found us.
He continued to sing his little heart out.
He even smiled several times.
Unheard of.
He was awesome.
He was handsome.
We were so very proud of him.
I have no pictures because none came out from that distance.
But, trust me.
A concert God.
Now, please know that I do NOT use the term “miracle” lightly.
In fact, I take issue with the term in most cases.
For example, the movie “Miracle” about the 1980 US Olympic ice hockey team who beat the odds and beat the Russians in the Olympics?
I think it takes away from their hard work to call that a miracle.
Yes, they were the underdogs and for many reasons, shouldn’t have won.
However, they worked hard and calling it a miracle takes away from their hard work.
So, underdog story?
Yes.
Big surprise?
You betcha.
Miracle?
No.
However, I have to say, although I know how scientific it truly is and how it all works, physically, this baby growing in my belly?
Miracle.
I mean…seriously.
I am growing a human in my body.
It started out as a little nothing and is going to come out as a person.
How does that happen?
So very many things can go wrong, and for many people, unfortunately, it does.
And, we’re not done with this one yet, so I don’t want to speak prematurely that everything will be fine.
But if it is?
Miracle.
Right now, he/she is doing somersaults and you can see his/her little butt knocking against my skin.
It looks completely like the movie “Alien” but it’s awesome!
Miracle.
Yes, this is my fourth, and so by now, the whole miracle-ness of it all should have worn off.
But, it hasn’t.
And it won’t.
It’s crazy.
It’s insane.
It’s amazing.
It’s wonderful.
Miracle.
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