Week 31

Ah, week 31...and it feels like we're getting so close to the end! But then I remind myself that there are potentially 9 weeks left of this pregnancy, and I find it really hard to believe. I guess I'm completely setting myself up for disappointment if I do go late, but I just feel like this little guy is coming early. I forgot to ask the midwife at my last appointment whether past history is a strong indicator of whether labor will begin early or not...I'll try to remember that next time.
One of the exciting aspects of week 31 was taking a tour of the maternity ward of the hospital here in town. Although part of me still wishes I was doing a homebirth (you didn't see that, Aunt Elaine!) :), I was impressed by the family birthplace at the hospital and by the friendliness of the nurse who gave the tour. The facilities are very nice...the rooms are large...and the policies seem flexible enough to allow the birth to go the way I want it. However, when we took the hospital tour in Israel, we were also given the impression that we could dictate quite a bit about the birth; but when I actually went to the hospital in labor, it was quite a different story. So I'm a little skeptical about whether there really is as much freedom as I desire, or whether "hospital policy" will take over and try to tell us what to do when we get there. We shall see...

The above picture doesn't really do a great job of showing how big I'm getting, but honestly I'm well aware of that fact and don't need to be reminded of it! I like this picture though because of the old-fashioned sign I'm standing next to....and especially because of the way it captures the boys running and playing near me.

This picture shows the boys standing next to a fountain in the lobby of the hospital. Every time we go there, we MUST stop and look at this fountain...and if Daddy has two pennies in his pocket, the boys must each have one to throw into the fountain. :) The sound of the water from this fountain is very melodic and soothing, and the hospital does a good job of maintaining this area. Oddly enough, there is a beautiful grand piano in this lobby. What in the world do you need a grand piano in a hospital lobby for? While I'm in labor, shall I ask to come down and play "Moonlight Sonata" to help me relax? :)

At the beginning of week 31, I had an appointment with my midwife which is always fun. It's always nice to receive reassurance that all is well and there's nothing to be concerned about. Even though I feel the baby kicking and cavorting all the time, it's still nice to have someone else check and see that everything is fine. I actually keep expecting them to chastise me for something: "oh, Davene, your weight is going up too much; you need to watch what you eat now," or "I'm concerned about your blood pressure; we need to make some changes to bring it down," or some such thing. But no, there's been nothing of the sort. The midwives seem relaxed about me and my pregnancy, and that helps me relax, too! :)

My nesting instinct has gotten me to do some exciting things recently...like beginning to pack my bag for the hospital (I know--9 weeks early is not really necessary, but it's still fun!), bidding on a breastpump on ebay (and getting a fantastic deal on it--$4.99 right now!), unpacking our baby bottles and running them through the dishwasher before putting them away on a special turntable in our cupboard, and...last but not least...doing an inventory of sorts in our cellar to see what food we might need to stock up on before the baby's born. I mean, really, could I feel great about myself if we had any less than a half dozen cans of corn in the cellar before labor starts? And if we didn't have an extra bottle of caesar salad dressing, we would surely suffer. And then there's condensed sweetened milk--one never knows when that might come in handy! Always be prepared, as my mother would say--and there's never a better time for that than during the last weeks of a pregnancy! ;)

Monkey Faces

As this past summer drew to a close, I was so eager to fill our front flowerbed with fall pansies -- or monkey faces, as my maternal grandmother used to call them. However, as the time came when they were available at local greenhouses, I found myself seriously lacking in time, energy, ability (bending over to plant stuff doesn't exactly sound like fun now), and initiative. Fortunately, my dear mother bought some for her home and my dad's office, and she got some for me at the same time...which is a good thing, because if not for that, the flowerbed would still be completely bare. My dream of having it filled with these pansies went up in smoke when I realized how much that would cost...so now as I drive around town, I appreciate other's full beds of pansies. Incidentally, purple and gold are the school colors of our local university, and they have gorgeous plantings of these flowers. I wonder how much they spend per year on landscaping???

~ it does add a bit of cheer to see these small but extremely hardy flowers marching up the hill to our front door
~ such cheerful little faces!

Proverbs 14:4, According to Me

What it really says:
Without oxen a stable stays clean, but you need a strong ox for a large harvest.

How I interpret it:
Without children and husband, my laundry chute would never be filled to overflowing, my bookshelves would stay perfectly organized, my floor wouldn't look like a pigpen, my counter wouldn't be cluttered with dirty dishes...but you need strong men and boys for a large harvest (of righteousness and peace--Hebrews 12:11).

Like my translation? Oh, I guess you could call it a paraphrase if you want to get technical about it! :)

And speaking of Proverbs...this is the one I shared with Josiah this morning as we snuggled on the couch under the oh-so-cozy quilt that Grandma Fisher gave us during her last visit (well, actually, she gave it to Jeff for his birthday, but he's a generous guy and shares it so we can all enjoy it!). Better to be patient than powerful; better to have self-control than to conquer a city. (16:32) For my power-loving, authority-seeking firstborn, this seemed highly appropriate!

No. 6

I'm not feeling at all inspired tonight, so I'll keep this short by simply adding something else to my list of the pregnancy ailments I could be experiencing but have (so far) been spared.

6. leg cramps -- I remember vividly the first time I had a leg cramp during my pregnancy with Josiah...I literally cried out in pain so forcefully that Jeff came running, convinced that I must be in labor...but no, it was simply a leg cramp...if you've had them, you know how intensely painful they can be...and you can imagine why I'm so grateful that I haven't had a single one during this pregnancy! (now watch, I'll probably get one tonight...) :)

Pregnancy Problems I DON'T Have

"The unthankful heart... discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings!"
-Henry Ward Beecher

My college alumni newsletter included this quote at the very top of the newsletter that I received today, so in my effort to be a "magnet," I am writing down a different (for me) kind of list of blessings--not about things I do have, but things I don't have. :)

I was realizing the past few nights that in spite of my minor aches and pains and inconveniences from this pregnancy, I could easily be afflicted with much more severe problems. You know how it is when you don't appreciate something until it's gone? I find that to be very true in my life in regards to my health. I don't talk to God very often about my throat until it starts hurting and I want Him to take the pain away-NOW. In the same way, there are a multitude of things that could have gone wrong in this pregnancy, but haven't...and I want to acknowledge that.

1. nausea - even the minor nausea that I had early in pregnancy was enough to remind me how miserable it can be to just feel so sick and not really be able to do anything about it...I'm so grateful to be past that stage!

2. sore hips - during the last part of my pregnancy with David, my hips would get so incredibly sore at night...I would turn from one side to the other, trying desperately to find a side that didn't ache when I laid on it...being as I only have two sides, that was a difficult task!...so far in this pregnancy, I have not had that kind of pain--maybe because the bed I sleep in now is far better than the bed we had in Israel!

3. pain from the baby's kicks - during the last part of my pregnancy with Josiah, my right ribs were constantly bruised, it seemed, by Josiah's vigorous kicks...I remember pushing on my belly, trying in vain to move him away from his position of having his legs and feet up under my ribs...I don't think it ever worked! and that pain was no fun after a while...so far with this baby, his movements inside me are still such a pleasure to feel; and even though it seems that my stomach is doing convulsions because of his activity, it doesn't cause pain

4. gestational diabetes - I've never had to deal with this, so I don't have any first-hand experience...but I can only imagine how hard it would be to go through pregnancy with this condition...I know that during this pregnancy, I have felt a fairly high degree of freedom about what I eat! :)...and the thought of curtailing that enjoyment of food is not appealing in the least!...but I know women with gestational diabetes go through so much to make sure they and their babies survive pregnancy in a healthy way, and I feel blessed that I've never had this particular burden to bear

5. pre-term labor and bedrest - again, I've never dealt with this firsthand, but even though the thought of someone ordering me to go to bed (and read a book!) sounds GREAT, I realize it's no picnic...a few hours of bedrest might be fun, but I know it gets old after that...and besides the physical discomfort of being confined to bed, I realize there is also the emotional stress of wondering whether the baby will be OK and how long you can keep him/her inside you, as well as the care of any older children in the family...I realize how blessed I am that I can basically function in my normal capacity, even though I'm pregnant

So for all these things that I could have, but don't, I say a big thank you, God!!!

Children's Choir--and Missing Home

These are some pictures from Josiah's children's choir class yesterday--the last class session of this semester--which Josiah was very sad about until I consoled him by reminding him that his classes begin again in January so this wasn't really the end! Since I've already written about his choir experiences, I'll shift my attention to something that happened at the end of class yesterday that got me thinking...

Mrs. Anderson, the teacher, had a beautifully illustrated book with the words of the song "Over the River and through the Woods" in it, which she sang to the children while she turned the pages of the book. This is a song that my family is very familiar with, and the boys and I had fun singing it some in the car on our way home. In case you're not acquainted with it, it's an old song that talks about going to grandmother's house for the holidays.

As I thought about the words of the song, I realized once again that I no longer have a house like that to come home to--because I live in it! None of my grandparents are alive, so I no longer have the anticipation of holidays at their houses. And now that we are living in my childhood home (a wonderful blessing which I'm not negating a bit!), I never have the experience of coming home for the holidays--or for anything. After I left home--first to college, then to married life with Jeff in California and Israel--it was always such a joy to come home. I still remember vividly how it felt to travel and finally arrive...to enter my parents' home...to wander around and look at everything again...to see the changes that had been made since I was last here...to sleep in my childhood bedroom...to eat my mother's cooking (well, I still get to do that, fortunately!)...to feel the rush of memories...to smell the familiar scents...to come home, plain and simple.

Now I am the home. And my siblings still get to come home to that, for which I'm very grateful. I don't know if the process of coming home is still the same to them or not; I would suppose that it's different, but hopefully still very special to have family living in this home and to preserve and build on those childhood memories. Now I am the hostess...which I love...but I miss my mom being in that role, and even more so, my grandmothers.

In any case, the advantages of living here, having this home, being so close to my parents, etc. FAR outweigh the disadvantages, so I'm not complaining in the least. I guess I'm just growing up--and realizing that things change, and can't possibly stay the same.

I was reminded of this quote by Wendy Wasserstein: Being a grownup means assuming responsibility for yourself, for your children, and--here's the big curve--for your parents.

Yep, I agree. And I think that third part is the hardest one of all.

The Running of the Moms

I have a notebook that I use to keep copies of articles that I want to save for one reason or another. I've discovered that this seems to be the best way for me to maintain some semblance of order with these assorted papers!

Recently as I was looking through this notebook, I "rediscovered" one of the articles that I found a while back. It struck me then, and it impacted me again when I read it a few days ago, so I thought I'd share it here--for a laugh, but also for a serious point, too.

It's from Focus on the Family magazine, and I don't know which month it appeared...but I do know that it's by Don Bosley.

Where I come from, the bloodthirsty village folk always look forward to a rite of parenting known as "The Running of the Moms," similar to the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona - though bulls aren't nearly as dangerous.

That's because no bulls have ever been asked to sit by idly in the football bleachers watching their precious sons below be absolutely and repeatedly pummeled in the name of sport.

Moms, as a group, don't understand pummeling. The theory, advanced by behavioral sociologists who wanted to play football as youngsters but were made to learn the French horn by their mothers instead, say that moms don't appreciate the aggressive nature of sports.

It's not that moms aren't tough. Five minutes in the labor room with your wife will put a cork in that nonsense. A lot of moms are former athletes or scrappy tomboys at heart. Some moms are hearty football fans and even cheer a good pummeling of poor saps now and again.

But they're moms, and when their sons are in the game, moms can transform into a wild-eyed sisterhood. Their maternal emotions are ready to explode and stampede the place, and when they do - well, let's just say the The Running of the Moms has flattened many a flippant father and scores of enthusiastic teens.

"Don't throw it to him. Don't throw it to him," Melody kept chanting, while simultaneously chewing on all 10 fingernails.

I was young and foolish; I decided to correct her.

"Don't throw it to him?!" I scoffed. "Honey, he's wide open!"

"No, he's not!"

I didn't know how much danger I was in. Dads understand pummeling. They can watch their sons be clobbered by a mastodon-sized linebacker and be philosophical about it.

But football moms are absolutely not philosophical. They are tormented. Jittery. Women on the edge.

Do not mess with them.

"GO, BRETT!" I hollered. It looked like he might go the distance.

I couldn't see whether he made it or not. A blanket hit me with the force of a stampeding Spanish bull.

"Run, Brett! RUN!" screamed Melody, in a maternal seizure.

She didn't care about the end zone. She wanted Brett to run anywhere he could to avoid the extreme pounding to his skinny little self.

But the kid hadn't eaten enough broccoli. One defender slowed him down and another plowed him into the ground after a 20-yard gain.

The joyous fans went nuts. I went nuts. The other moms went nuts, thrilled that it wasn't their kids who'd gotten planted like a pathetic petunia at midfield.

Melody, on the other hand, was way beyond nuts. She was covering her eyes, cringing and trying to make herself do deep-breathing exercises.

"Let him get up. Please let him get up," she kept praying. "Somebody tell me when he gets up."

"Honey, they're already run three more plays."

The truth was, Brett was wearing so much protective equipment that you could have swung a wrecking ball at the kid, and he still would've bounced up unscathed.

He was supposed to get hit. He was dressed for it. I'm a dad. I totally get this.

But here's the problem: I get it when it comes to the football field, but I don't always grasp the concept elsewhere - which can be problematic when you're talking about your walk with Jesus.

I am stunned when some lousy circumstance or petty injustice touches my life. I can get snorty and wild-eyed.

Strife comes to one of my relationships, and I start retreating desperately or raving unintelligibly. A financial burden blindsides me, and I go into spiritual convulsions.

What did I expect? A game of pinochle played on a tablecloth?

It's a battle. We're supposed to get pummeled a little. The Enemy has flaming arrows, and they are coming our way.

But there's no reason to go fetal. No reason to stampede hysterically. It's not like God has thrown us out here without any protection.

He gave us His words of wisdom in Ephesians 6:11: "Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes."

So all I can shout is: "Go, Christian, go!"

And to that, I say, "Amen!"

"Extracurriculars"

Some pictures from last Thursday that I never got around to posting...

Homeschooling leaves lots of times for extra activities, like...

~ watching the chimney cleaner do his job and being exposed to another trade/another way of making a living - as well as learning about people skills and how to relate to people of all ages, backgrounds, etc.
~ seeing the world from a new perspective - everybody needs some upside-down time every now and then, right?
~ tackling Daddy - I love this picture because it shows how much these boys adore their daddy and how they just can't get enough of him!

Accomplishment

Last year for Christmas, we gave Josiah an indoor tricycle...and he has gotten HOURS of enjoyment out of it. When August rolled around, we got one for David and thought, based on how he acted when he got on Josiah's tricycle, that he would quickly learn to ride his smaller tricycle well. We were wrong. He didn't get the hang of it until...yesterday! Last night he got on his tricycle and took off! He's not exactly zooming around as quickly as Josiah, but he's doing quite well...and it's fun to see both of them riding around our indoor "speedway." :)

~ in August--David liked to sit on his tricycle, but couldn't figure out how to make it move!
~ this morning--both boys managed to stop long enough for me to take their picture (and, yes, they're still Incas today!)

Week 30

Was it really me that wrote only a few weeks ago about how I selfishly love this stage of life so much when my baby and I are connected closer than we'll ever be again and how I don't want this to end? And was it me that wrote even more recently than that about how I want to grasp time and slow it down? I guess it must have been me, but all I can say now is that something has changed and I have turned a corner. Now, I am more than eager for this baby to be born--not because pregnancy is so uncomfortable (because, fortunately, it still is progressing fairly easily and smoothly...oh, a few aches and pains*...but nothing major)--but because I can hardly contain my excitement about actually meeting our new little son face to face and KNOWING him in a brand new way! This week is really the first time that this particular eager anticipation has gripped me, but it is a strong emotion now...which might be good or might not, since I still have two months to go until his expected arrival!

With a due date of January 16 and a history of my first son being born one day early and my second son being born 12 days early, I find myself strongly suspecting that this little guy will be born in the first part of January. Jeff is rooting hard for December 31, since he figures if Peter got a break on his taxes, so should we! But who knows? There are no guarantees that we won't go past our due date which, I've heard, is a peculiar form of torture--physical and mental--for heavily pregnant women; and I'm not at all eager to learn about that firsthand!

As far as names go... :) Once again, Jeff has changed his preference and is leaning towards a name that I actually prefer, too (though either of these latest two considerations is fine with me). David proudly announces that he likes the new name, too, probably because he can actually pronounce it. As for Josiah--when Jeff leans toward the other name, Josiah prefers the new name...but when Jeff says he likes the new name better, Josiah wants the old name. No wonder I sometimes call him Mr. Opposite! Anyway, once again, I think we are closer to a decision which is very exciting for me...but we'll see...time will tell.

* Aches and pains:
~ heartburn has reared its fiery head again, but fortunately it's nothing that a couple of Tums can't control
~ difficulty sleeping--not difficulty falling asleep because I do that fairly rapidly, but difficulty staying asleep...it's hard to get a good night's sleep because I wake up not only to go to the bathroom numerous times during the night, but also because every time I turn over, I wake up...I consciously resist the urge to groan as I heave myself to my other side since I did a lot of that during my pregnancy with David and Jeff teased me mercilessly about that :)...but the process of turning over and getting resettled with my preggo pillow (which I adore and will be sad when I no longer have an excuse to use it!) definitely causes a significant sleep interruption
~ more-extreme-than-normal emotions--I dealt with this earlier in this pregnancy, but it seems to have returned...several times this week, I was so weepy--and knew I had no good reason to be...Jeff has been very loving and patient with me, and that is a huge help...I can't imagine what it would be like to be a husband to a pregnant woman; we're not the easiest things to love, I'm sure!
~ an example of an emotional moment: at our church this morning, several babies were dedicated; and it was a beautiful ceremony...one of the unique aspects of it was that the ladies' sewing group of the church makes a handmade baby blanket/quilt for each of the children being dedicated--so special!...anyway, as I watched the babies and the families in the front of the church, I was understandably a bit sentimental, thinking about how our turn was coming and how wonderful it will be to stand there with our little son...but then--we started singing the hymn "Children of the Heavenly Father"; and when we got to the phrase, "Though he giveth or he taketh," my tears flowed and I could hardly stop them...the reason? my miscarriage...my heart grieved for that lost opportunity to have and hold a precious child...hey, I thought I was over that!...but this morning, I obviously wasn't...sigh...being this emotional is tiring! :)

Incas

Tonight our home was visited by two Inca tribesmen...aka Josiah and David...but hey, we have vivid imaginations around here, so it was no trouble at all to envision them as real tribesmen, hunting game in our living room with their bow and arrows. Granted, one of the tribesmen kept his sippy cup in tow, but we'll let that slide. :)

~ the tribesmen check each other out--will they be allies or enemies?
~ ah, peace is decided upon, even though these tribesmen hail from different villages (as anyone can clearly see from the different insignias on their headdresses)

Josiah was a little confused about where the Incas lived and who they might have fought against, since he kept insisting that he was fighting the Egyptians. "Um, no, sweetheart, I don't think the Incas and Egyptians ever fought. They lived pretty far away from each other." But nothing would dissuade him from his quest to find Egyptians!

Just another day in our homeschool...

Lowering My Expectations...or the "Real" Proverbs 31 Woman

I am often afflicted with a common disease among women: the ability to make very long to-do lists, the inability to actually complete all (or even the majority) of the tasks on any of those lists, and the subsequent frustration that comes from feeling like I should be able to accomplish more so what in the world is wrong with me???

Recently I've realized that I need to set my expectations for myself even lower than I already have. It's tough, because really, I feel like I don't expect too much of myself...but when I still can't accomplish those lowered expectations, I realize I have to drastically re-evaluate what's important. What should my focus be on? What do I need to do so that at the end of the day, I'll be able to say it was a day well-spent? What are the bare minimums?

Here is what I've narrowed it down to so far:
~ food: have I provided food (of some sort, even if it's carry-out) for my family?
~ clothing: have I provided clean clothes for my family (or on rare occasions, clothes I've dug out of the dirty clothes pile because they're not too dirty)? :)
~ love: have I shown love to God? to Jeff? to my boys?

If I've accomplished those things, I think I should feel good about life, even if the laundry is piled higher than it's ever been before (which it literally is at this very moment--filling the entire laundry chute that we have from our top floor to bottom floor in our house), even if I don't have my picture file organized on the computer, even if my pile of papers by the telephone is threatening to tumble over and I know there are important things "lost" in it.

But oh, it's hard to feel good about such meager accomplishments.

I remember two times in my life that particularly stand out as times of intense focus when I knew that all I had to do was accomplish a very specific goal and if I did that, I could feel great. One was immediately after Josiah was born; for me, the whole world narrowed to the task of learning how to care for him and, especially, teaching him how to nurse effectively and helping him regain his birth weight and start gaining more weight. For a little while, that was all that was important to me.

Another time is after we moved from Israel to California, and all the possessions we had with us were in a few suitcases--a few very full suitcases which quickly got disorganized. It was my job to know what was in our luggage and to be able to produce it when needed. Finding clean clothes that fit us and (hopefully) matched each day was quite a job; but if I did that simple (but difficult) task, I could feel a sense of accomplishment. And when Jeff asked me for a certain important document or a cord for some piece of electronic equipment and I was able to find it, I felt exhilarated! Talk about focus: of all the things that normally keep me busy, at that point in life, all I had to do was be queen of the suitcases and that was enough!

But now that life is "settled," I automatically expect so much more of myself. So I was automatically intrigued when I was reading a chapter in a phenomenal book I read earlier this fall, called Things We Wish We'd Known, edited by Bill & Diana Waring. This book is a collection of advice from experienced homeschoolers, and I can't say enough good things about it. The emphasis on focusing on the heart of the child and relaxing about all the "rules" of homeschooling was exactly what I needed to read, and I should probably read it every year as I prepare to teach my boys.

The chapter that I'm thinking of now is called "You Can't Do It All...and Don't Have To!" by Sharon Grimes; and in these few pages, she talks about the Proverbs 31 woman, among other things. How many of us women have read Proverbs 31 and loved that woman, but then thrown our hands up in despair as we've realized how far short we fall when compared to that model? I mean, I certainly haven't purchased any fields or woven any scarlet cloth recently, and I don't always get up before dawn, so I must be a failure, right? Well, not really.

I'm going to quote extensively from Sharon's chapter because she says it better than I could...

It became so frustrating trying to emulate my biblical role model that, eventually, I was compelled to really study that thirty-first chapter of Proverbs. I reached some startling conclusions that really changed my "I have to be busy all the time or I won't be a success" attitude.

First, I learned that the woman in Proverbs 31 was not a young mother with young children. I believe that she was in the next season of her life, with grown children. See the verse that says "her children rise up and call her blessed." Now, when was the last time your children got up in the morning and told you how wonderful you are? (Mother's Day doesn't count!) Can you remember when you first realized how hard your mother had worked and all of the sacrifices she had made for you? If you are like me, it was not until you became a parent and saw how much work it took to run a household. It is grown children who "rise up and call her blessed."

Now, some of you may still insist on emulating all of the Proverbs 31 woman's activities. All right, here is point two to convince you that the Proverbs 31 woman did not "do it all." What is the first thing that she did every day after she rose? (I rarely can find anyone who knows the answer. All that we remember is her multitude of activities.) Give up? Verse fifteen explains that she fed her maids. How many of you have a houseful of maids to feed in the morning? NO, none of us has the multitude of household assistants taking care of our every whim that a woman of royalty would have had! I was starting to get a different picture.

I became convinced that these accomplishments were completed, not concurrently, but spread out over the course of this woman's lifetime. I had failed miserably in my efforts to "do it all." People always say, "prioritize your schedule," but my priorities were wrong! All of those urgent needs outside our home continued to pull me away from the most important jobs I had: wife and mother. And, for the first time in my life, I clearly understood that my attempts to please the Lord had been performance-based rather than a simple walk of obedience (I Sam. 15:22-23).

Sharon writes more, but I think this is enough to give the heart of the matter. And the heart of the matter for me is my heart--my heart to accept my limitations, my heart to stop judging myself based on my to-do list, my heart to stop comparing my accomplishments with what other women are able to do, my heart to trust what God has shown me is most important.

So as I lay down at night, if I can say I fed and clothed my family and loved them and God, it will be enough. And when the days of more productivity come, I'll accept them as a blessing from God, but will strive to remember that it doesn't change my worth or status as a woman before God.