I am your king

I feel so lucky to live where I do.

We had a home visit from the midwife yesterday. There were some rather personal exams to do. So after all the outside work was done Spencer took Adia out of the room and the midwife and I fished the rest of the exam.

Later Adia wanted to play midwife and mommy.

"What's your midwife name?" I asked Adia wondering if she would pretend to be Kim, her nursery teacher.

"Fishy Turtle King, but others call me Katelyn." She said this like it was something I would recognize.

We checked blood pressure and listened to the heartbeat.

"Okay now the scary part," said Adia.

"What scary part?" I asked.

"The part where the midwife puts on the gloves." (This was the last thing Adia saw as she left the room.)

I couldn't think of what to tell Adia. The truth seemed way too complicated to explain plus I don't want her to play that kind of midwife and mommy with her friends. So I told Adia the midwife had to take some blood samples. It also seemed like someone who held the name of Fishy Turtle King would be an expert at drawing blood.

On another note: Mormons believe there is still more great knowledge to come. My sister has a theory that it is how to live as a global community.

I found this video last night about our empathetic civilization. I found it very beautiful and thought on what my sister said.

I really love this idea of viewing everyone as your countryman.

Ghost Rider... Word

I don't believe in karma there are some truly awful things that happen and I know it's not because of their actions.

Still, it's satisfying to see people get what they deserve.

I have a brother and he's older than me. No hallway or doorway was safe. You never knew when he was going to jump out. On several occasions shoved his socks in my mouth after football practice. He gave me welts by making his ring finger go perfectly limp, then whipping me with it. He chased my sisters and I on a moped and the fact that it was pink didn't lessen the fear (well maybe a little).

The other day I was talking to my brother's wife. I heard a scream in the background and sigh from the sis-in-law.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's child #2 he isn't happy unless child #3 is upset."

I laughed maniacally for a long time.

Why are you even talking to me?

Me: Adia, why are you naked?
Adia: Cause I am.
Me: Sorry for asking such a stupid question.

I'm already being sassed my her. Guess I need to take back the pink backpack birthday gift and get that Prada bag she wanted.

I haven't written for a while since there have been too many things going on that would reduce me to ranting rather then what ever else I do here.
I drove to Utah and saw my little sister give birth which was beautiful but her hospital and staff were so barbaric and cruel.
My older sister moved so I was helping her pack and get rid of stuff (into my closet.) Her daughter and mine are best friends and I love my sister. This is going to be a hard move. It's great to have a friend you can fight with and it means nothing the next day.

Adia got to call her cousin where the conversation was mainly Adia telling Eva how much she liked grapes. I wish I could call people tell how much I love kombucha (pregnancy craving) and have them in tears because they don't understand why I am not over there hanging out with them.

two in a week is it your birthday?

Adia had a nightmare that the new baby ate all the yogurt.
Didn't even save her the empty carton to lick out.
Every night brings a 4am panic of being bumped.

She likes to take off her clothes and crawl around making annoying babble noises and refuses to ask for what she wants. I played along but I so sick of it. She even woke up screaming that I need to turn her big girl bed back into a crib.
I'm scared as her last effort she is going to try and crawl back into my uterus.

So mothers or two children how in the world can I get her to sleep through the night confident that I am not growing her replacement?

This is what I have done already:
I tell her I love her, she is still my little girl and I will always be her mommy. She is excited too she talks about the new baby and wants to be the one to hold the baby. I never call her the big girl or act like she needs to man up. I've read books about dealing with two kids today we are heading to the library for movies and books on kids getting a new sibling.

The girl with the rub on dragon tattoo

This will most likely be a boring post. When it comes to my kid I have no idea what's entertaining and what isn't.

Adia climbed into my bed around 4 am wiggling and kicking more then the baby trappedin my uterus.

I got fed up with my lack of sleep and asked her if she wanted me to go back to her room so we could talk about what was scaring her. I thought I would figure out if it was something in her room.

"Is there something in here that scares you?" I asked once we were settled in her room.

"Nothing in my room is scary," she says. "There's a dragon who is my friend and talks to me."

"What color is he?"

"His eyes are pink and his squares (think she means scales) are purple and his hand are purple and he has toesies and feet and his sticks (think she means spikes?) are purple and he has a tail... and wings. He's nice."

"Is he big or little"

He's big and there is a little dragon who is nice too and a yellow dragon is shy."

"When did you first see them."

"When they were happy... They live in a big hole and they come out and make scary things go away... Scary things like alligators and Tinkerbell."

"Wait, Tinkerbell is scary?" She's never seen Peter Pan but she has me read the picture book quite often.

"Yeah when she's mad."

We talked about it and she caught Spencer and I watching the special features on the making of Pushing daisies. I tried to explain that it's a halloween show where people dress up. She loves Halloween and wants to check out books and movies (Max and Ruby) about Halloween. I guess it didn't work the makeup job just looks too good on that show.

I need a following

Adia likes to pull the blankets out of my basket, curl up inside and fall asleep. She calls it her chickadee nest (for the worried moms out there the sides are loosely woven).

Today I watched kids climbing up the slide having a really good time about it.
I turned to the parents and said, "I love that you let your kids climb up the slide. It drives me crazy when parents make such a big deal about kids playing on something the wrong way. They are just having fun and getting exercise."
I was a little confused on their reaction I watch faces more then I listen to the words so when they said "Foot in your mouth."
I came to really confused on what that conversation was about.
I hardly listen to people when they talk.

Spencer told me that while the kids were climbing up the slide the parents were yelling at them to stop. I had congratulated them on not doing what they were doing.
I then watched the dad get up and scream in the little girls face about not climbing down the rock wall.
I'm really glad I didn't pay any attention to what he was saying. I'm a much happier person when I don't listen to people.

Also, Kids need to play more without parents dictating how it should be done.

in the confession booth

I have a confession: I think Star Wars is boring.
Most of my friends already know this. I have finally decided to come clean to the world after years of deception. Everyone I knew loved the movies. I faked my way through watching the movies tring to get lines to quote. I bought tons of junk. I bought any Yoda doll I came across and stickers that I covered my binder with. I pretended to have crushes on Han and Luke but most of all I watched those movies a lot.

I remember telling one of my friends (who actually did do this) that I was going to get a tattoo of the rebel symbol. This would be the equivalent of me getting a Pride and Prejudice tattoo. Luckily by the time I was invited to watch Pride and Prejudice I didn't feel like I needed to like the same things to be friends with someone.

I don't feel like I have better taste in movies than anyone. I seem to like any artsy or literary foreign film or animated movie for children. But my rule for all film: If it's not funny I usually don't like it.

* Spencer edits my blogs before I post them. "Star Wars is funny!" he says, sounding pretty upset.

"Was it every time I was nodding off?" I ask.

Spencer you knew what I was when you picked me up!

Laughing all the way

Big sis has always been a mama's girl. Mom had to be the last person to kiss her goodbye before she went to school. If my dad kissed her last she would have to go get another one from my mom.

So my brother started the "I hate you daddy" mimic where we exaggerated everything big sis did into meaning, I hate you daddy.

It was nice because:
A. It infuriated my sister.
B. It made me look great.

I thought if my dad thought my sister hated him then by default I would be his favorite.

My older sister came home from college and was eating dinner with my family. As a recent development my dad would sometimes choke when food was too spicy (everything is fine now; that's not a problem.)

No one had told my sister about this so when my dad make choking noises my sister thought my dad was joking that the food was terrible. Big sis started to laugh and laugh. It lasted a little longer then it should have.

So as my dad choked and listened to the laughter of his eldest daughter he thought, 'oh shit, she really does hate me.'

*Author's note: For those of you who don't know my dad, this would not be an accurate description if I had left out the 'oh shit.'

Random thought:
About a year ago I drove to church and saw that there would be a tea party in Bellingham. I was super excited and wished Adia was a little older so she could have tea without needing it in a sippy cup. I thought about how great Bellingham was for having these free events but wondered why it was held at a Walmart parking lot and not in one of the many beautiful parks. I saw the event the next week. Wrong kind of tea party. Sometimes I think I really need to get a TV.

Get back to work

These are random and not related:

Last night I heard scratching at my bedroom window. This is odd since I live on the 2nd story. It was a big fat raccoon. I have no idea how his chubby body was able to scale the house.

When I was little my brother use to try and convince me that I was adopted. I secretly hoped he was right. My true parents were royal and had to give me up because that is what royalty does.

My mom thought freckles were the ultimate sign of beauty so when she was a little girl she use to paint them on. This isn't a picture of my mom; it's Adia.

It drives me crazy when I meet mothers who obsess over keeping clothes on dolls. Kids are curious about bodies and there isn't anything dirty of perverted about that. When I was 5 or 6 I was looking through my mom's medical books and found an illustration of a naked man. I hurried the book to my mom thinking she would flip.

"That's what the male body looks like," she told me. "There is nothing wrong with that but please don't show your friends. Some mothers don't want their children to see that yet."

I don't remember what that picture looked like and I never pulled out that book again but I was really comforted by the thought that I could talk to my mom about sexuality without her freaking out or thinking I was dirty.

One morning when Spencer was getting Adia out of her crib she was so excited to tell him:
"Ariel came into my room, she took my money and flew out the window!"