Spence it up, y'all (I'm about to)

He's teenie weenie. He's itty bitty. He's Sir Spencealot! Note by his expressions that he is already learning to be irked with my "can't-have-enough-digital-pictures" policy. I am still pretty wiped, so I'll tell the birth story some time soon. Spence sends baby kisses and hugs.

Spencer William

Kurt filling in for Tori.

Spencer William was born today at 2:30 p.m.

8lb 9oz, 20" tall.

He was born after only 4 hours of labor.

Mommy and baby are doing fine and should be home on Friday.

We all know it already, but Tori is amazing!!!

Houston, we are go for liftoff

I am being induced Wednesday morning. Will be at the hospital by 7 a.m., I hope, given the current weather situation in central Ohio. Kurt will post as soon as he returns home, which will hopefully be Wednesday evening ... early!!!

Mos(tly) Deaf ... but not overprotective

I took Aron to a b-day party for one of his school pals yesterday. It was all boys. About 15 to 20 of them. Them kids is crazy. I honestly believe I have experienced some hearing loss from the event; I have felt this way after particularly loud concerts. Lollapalooza 1993, in particular.

Why didn't you drop him off and leave, you ask? Because in my line of work (particularly my work as a Guardian ad Litem), I have way too much knowledge about how, where and why "things" happen to little kids. It has caused sleepless nights, trust me. I won't share here because I want you, dear reader, to NOT have to carry the burden.

Anyway, until I am certain (1) I fully trust the people I am leaving my kid with, (2) I know exactly who will have access to my kid when I am not around, and finally (3) that my kid is assertive enough to anticipate dangerous situations and make every effort to extricate himself if necessary, I am not leaving my kid alone anywhere, with anyone.

Am I being too protective? Hmm. Well, what could have happened yesterday? Let's say he had to go to the bathroom (which he did). Consider the 9-year-old child whose aunt walked him to the public men's room, then waited outside while he was, well, you can read more about it if you care to. Point is, it only takes a MOMENT.

Bet you're also wondering if I take the boys to the women's bathroom with me. Hell yes, I do. And when I can't, for whatever reason, I stand outside the men's room and yell in every 10 seconds, waiting for an immediate response. I am like a sentinel.

Am I creating in my kids too much dependence on my vigilance? Let's be clear: parenting is a serious job with serious responsibilities. I will note that the first SIX pages of Aron's Tiger Cubs manual for Cub Scouts is all about these issues. Training and awareness begins very early for kids these days. But he's still just seven: 52 pounds of little, immature, innocent, beautiful boy. Teaching him to protect himself is just one of the many life lessons for which we as parents are responsible. And it takes time. Self-protection is high on the list of life lessons that WE intend to teach him, thus preventing the WORLD from having the first crack at it.

So the price I paid yesterday is some minor hearing loss. But my kid came home safe and that's all that matters.

Know what makes it all better?

CaNnoT FrEaKin TAkE iT ANYmOrE!

Yesterday, doc did an ultrasound and said baby is a healthy weight, at this point, between 6 to 8 pounds. But, no change to cervix. That means no induction. Not on Jan. 28, as doc promised. I do not like doc much right now. He in fact told me that he may allow me to complete my 41st week before he induces. That means I might not have this kid until Feb. 9. Yeah. I'm feeling kinda over this right now. I just want my cuddly baby. And to punch my doctor.

Moo

She may be wider, but I feel wider. Pants won't stay up. Couldn't get out of tub without assistance today. Back is freakin' broken. Have to take breaks by sitting on the benches INSIDE Wal-Mart. Swelling of extremities has commenced; toes look like L'il Smokies. Want to smack people that say, "Wow, you're still pregnant?" Not laughing at jokes about having twins. Might cry at doc's tomorrow if he doesn't indicate some change. Am self-medicating with ice cream. So do not ever want to be pregnant again.

Goodbye.

I think that the mistakes of the last eight years will never lie squarely on the shoulders of those responsible, because those decision makers lack the capacity to understand the monumental disservice that they levied upon America: its infrastructure, military, economy, reputation and future. We will spend many years dog paddling our way out of the muck.

It's over now. And all I have to say is: Goodbye. Nothing more can be said, given that we all know how the utter mismanagement and lack of clarity in decision-making has damaged us. And granted, it may not have been all bad, but where it really counted, we have been genuinely, universally impacted in a negative way.

What we have now is hope: hope that despite our current state that we as Americans can and will perservere. Yes, we can.

So, I say, Goodbye. Because it is the most polite way to say it. And because I want to look forward, and to HOPE.

Puke, Snow and Lord of the Roadblocks

Natie Hazer is a pukey, feverish boy today, so I'm staying home. That kinda works, because I am REALLY tired of waddling around all day. And stressing.

Also, the road is now covered with snow! What the heck?! This is the perfect time for me to be hugely pregnant: blizzard, with a sick kid.

Current boss of my undercarriage, the OB/GYN, offers this report from the Monday visit: no change "down there." Still closed to thru traffic. Ultrasound next Monday to see if he is gigantor, but, in my opinion he's smaller than Aron. If he's big, may be induced soon. If he ain't, prolly induced Jan. 28, because my doc is going on vacation that weekend. Pretty thoughtful of him to induce before the vacay...but heck, while we are at it, why not induce even sooner? He's not having that talk (despite my offer slide him five bucks); sez the roadblock down there means that my body is not ready to share the baby yet (thus increased chance of c-section). Haven't had one of those yet, so, not real keen to try it now.

Anyway, back to Letter Factory DVDs and Leapster Games.

UPDATE FROM 1.15.09: Natie has an ear infection. Doc catagorized it as "Nine on a scale of 10." Got our tasty pink med and though he refuses to eat, he's doing much better. On our way to the Rite Aid Drive-Thru, I said, "We'd better go get these drugs before we go home." Both boys began screaming from the back seat, "We don't want to take drugs! Drugs are bad!" I have to say I am fairly impressed with the brainwashing provided by our local school and church!

New to the XGames: Extreme Nesting

I cleaned the house for two straight days. This bizarre nesting instinct is the strongest that I have ever experienced. I kept working even when I knew, logically, that I should be exhausted, and that it was time to sit down and watch the full BBC version of "Pride & Prejudice," followed up by all my Barbra Streisand movies. Right now I am so tired I can't see straight, but I still want to vacuum, disinfect, wash, fold, cull or organize something.

By the way ... emergency back-up name in case it's a girl: Rachael Frances. Hey, ultrasounds have been wrong! And no, I am not being ridiculous, at least not in my own hormonally stewed mind. Such a small preparation is practical. What is also practical is the amount of boy stuff at the house; we are emotionally and otherwise prepared for yet another gorgeous boy child. But, I sure would hate to be stuck at the last second without a plan. We Type A's do NOT like the "no game plan" scenario. It is known to bring on panic attacks, depression, insomnia and crying fits. Must plan. Must, must plan.

Christmas Run-Down

Aron's Favorite Gifts: Guitar, Rachel Ray for Kids Cookbook.
Nate's Favorite Gifts: Batcave, games for Leapster2.
Kurt's Favorite Gifts: New electric razor and cool mug that brews loose-leaf tea.
My Favorite Gifts: Food Processor and gift certificates to TJ Maxx.
Family Gift: Wii Fit. By the way ... we's not too fit!

2008 over; pregnancy NOT

Yeah, still knocked up. Why can't I be one of those lucky girls who delivers at the end of her eighth month? Why must my body be so well-suited to growing huge baby boys?

Current waist circumference: 46 inches.

Chance I'll be posting a picture: zero.