I'm A Little Disappointed...

that no one else seems to be amused by the mullet picture. :-( I still laugh every time I see it.

Anyway, life is just chugging along here in P-town.

I went to the doctor earlier this week, and all is well in Swimmer's world. He/she is -- as the doctor so politely noted -- "a chubby little thing," weighing in at 4.5 lbs. so far.

That didn't trigger any alarms until I got home and found out via internet that a typical baby at this point weighs about 3 lbs.

Shocking. Our other two kids were 9 lbs. and 8.5 lbs. respectively. I wasn't really expecting this one to be any different, but it's still slightly alarming to hear that your child is already in the 93rd percentile for size before he/she "really starts gaining weight."

On another note, we are trying to potty-train Laney. She has totally immersed herself in the idea.

We have yet to be able to convince her that she does not have to be one with the potty in order to successfully potty train.

This has resulted in a lot of gagging on my part and a lot of baths for her. (Yes, I threw away the comb as well as washed the dress and Laney in hot water with lots of soap. Our toilets are clean, but that doesn't mean we're going to bathe in them.)

Ethan has also chosen this summer to assert his individuality, which he often chooses to express through his choices in clothing.

We haven't been able to convince him, either, that items of the same color should not always be worn together, such as brown socks and brown Chuck Taylor's.

He usually responds to my gentle fashion guidance by saying, "Mommy, it will be fine.Don'tworry."

But I do worry... mostly that people are laughing at my precious little child.

Have I mentioned that two weeks ago he wore his bike helmet to the skating rink? "For protection," he said.

Yes; people did laugh. I was one of them.

Never a dull day...

I am impressed...

by me.

It's been a banner day in J-Town today, and it's only 8:36 a.m.

By the end of the day, I may have figured out the key to world peace.

This morning, bright and early, I saved a bird. It somehow mishapped into our screened-in backporch; by the time I realized it was there, the bird was seriously freaking out.

I am not scared of birds, but I don't really like sudden movements from wild animals that could poke my eyes out... so I've never really tried too hard to do more than appreciate them from afar.

(Random sidenote: we spent hours as children snuggled up in Granny B.'s back den, watching the birds at the bird feeder. We were probably the only people under 50 who could distinguish a goldfinch from a titmouse. Still -- we only looked at them from the window. No interaction.)

Anyway, when K. left for work, he wasn't too concerned. "It'll find it's way out," he said in his wise-sage voice... but it worried me that the bird couldn't seem to figure out that there was a big open space for escape (otherwise known as a door).

So, when he left, I took matters into my own hands.

Literally.

I tried, at first, to talk it out of its frenzy.

Much like my children as well as my students, it didn't listen... and my presence seemed to upset it more.

I tried opening the other door so it would have TWO avenues of escape, but that didn't seem to help, either.

Finally, I took a deep breath and channeled my inner-nature-girl.

At first, I contemplated pulling a Crocodile Hunter-like move: gently scooping it up into my bare hands and carrying it to freedom.

That vision was interrupted by a second vision of the bird tearing the flesh from my bones, so I scrapped that idea.

Finally, I settled on a compromise.

I cornered the bird into one screen pane with the mop, and then I used the dog food scoop to gently trap the frenzied beast while holding onto its tailfeathers (all the while thinking, "I am going to have to wash my hands in scalding water! Birds have all kinds of germs on their feathers!" Please remember I was raised by Mayree who harbors much disdain for all germs everywhere.).

In one swift, cat-like movement, I shoveled the bird from the screen to the open door and set it free!

(Cheers all around!)

At this point, I realized that I was stalking around my backporch in a large tshirt and my undies, so I decided to take the party inside before my neighbors called the police.

Once inside, after scalding the skin off of my arms up to my elbows to remove bird germs and celebrating my second calling as an animal rescuer, I decided to tackle another daunting task: figuring out how to connect my camcorder/digital camera to the computer.

I've been working on this one for a while, but seeing as how I misplaced some important stuff... like the instruction book, driver software, and USB cable... this has been difficult.

As of last night, I'd finally managed to gather what I thought was the right USB cable and the instruction manual.

This morning, fresh off of my bird victory, I marched upstairs to tackle the technological beast.

And I won.

Sort of.

I can at least upload pictures to my computer...

Like this one, which I snapped this weekend while on vacation @ Folly with the fam. Nothing says, "South Carolina beach" like a mullet blowing in the wind.

Now, I just have to figure out how to upload the videos. (The computer keeps saying some program doesn't recognize the video file. Pttthhhttt.)

Still, I feel like today has been a success.

Maybe not so much of a success that I'll clean out the bonus room, but still... a success overall.

Tah-Dahhh!!!!

Yesterday, we loaded up the fam -- both kids and my parents -- into the MV and went to a place called Vision of Life and proceeded to thoroughly invade Swimmer's privacy.


Now, I feel like this is the 50th ultrasound I've had, but really, it's only the 4th. I've already had on 3D-4D, but it's a little different having one done in a sterile doctor's office (although the tech and the doctor were both very nice and gave us pretty pictures). This time, we were able to sit back and relax and just check out Swimmer's behavior in his (or her -- we still don't know) natural habitat.


At first, he/she wouldn't move his/her hands, so it was difficult to get a good shot. (For the record, referring to the baby as a he/she makes me a little uncomfortable, but I guess that's my own fault, eh?)





And here he is, in all of his/her smiling glory. If the weirdness of this photo freaks you out, do not fret. It totally freaks me out, but I like it because he/she is mine.


That crazy stuff around his/her head is the placenta, in which he/she totally likes to burrow his/her head. That thing that could be mistaken for something gender-specific is actually the umbilical cord, which he/she also digs.


Both of these fascinations concern me a little, considering the placenta and cord deliver vital stuff to the kid, but I've been reassured that it's alright. Apparently, God figured the kids might play with that stuff and made both pretty durable.


I will say that Swimmer is currently pretty much folded in half, which was the case with Ethan... so I'm expecting him/her to be of decent size.


I will also say that K and I were kind of taken aback to see how much Swimmer resembles Ethan at birth. We have a picture of E, taken a few weeks after his birth, that we call the "Mad Monkey" picture.


(E spent a good bit of his first months looking like an angry gorilla. Fortunately, he outgrew this.)


Anyway, at one point, Swimmer ducked out from behind his placental hiding place, and my mouth dropped open.


He looks so much like E in the Mad Monkey picture... minus the scowl.


We did confirm that it looks like Baby Swimmer may look more like me (and the other two kids)... as the ultrasound man said, "The baby has a nice broad nose."


Thanks. Like I need any encouragement to be a little insecure about my appearance at this point.


Anyway, he/she has Toad's nose and what appears to be my lips. Since both of the other bambinos are blessed with K's beautiful eyes, I think Swimmer may be, too.


K was not surprised to find this out, although we were both secretly hoping this one would look like him. Not that having three miniature Toads is bad, but I wanted people to say, "Wow! He/she looks so much like K!" instead of "Wow! Your kids look so much like you!" or "That has to be Ken's grandchild! He/She looks just like him!" (Ken is Toad's real name.)


Of course, years down the road, this could be a curse, especially if the kids go to school here. Since most of the teachers that had me are still teaching, the kids may automatically get preferential seating to prevent them from talking....