Somewhere, someone has been cursing my name because he wanted to start a blog called Jet and Bean, but every time he tried for the name, google shot it back as already taken. But when he would check jetandbean.blogspot, those people hadn’t even updated it five months. THE NERVE.
So I got pregnant and tired and started sleeping 12 hours a night. Everything non-essential had to go. Then I started to feel better, but had to face the shambles of a home that had been neglected for three-plus months. Then after the house started coming back into focus, I realized that if I never got on the computer, it could stay reasonably clean and tidy.
If I wanted a more accurate documentation of our life for the past few months, I could reminisce about Rush learning to swim and Tate being a two year old with a broken leg in August and hiking pregnant with two children by myself when Trent got food poisoning on vacation. I could take some pictures of the quilt I started making with sheets from the 1960’s that I got from my grandparents’ house after my grandpa died and talk about how I started knitting again after giving away all my knitting supplies a year or so ago because I’m terrible at knitting, but it’s just sooo convienient [to make things that people can use 3 or 4 days out of the year.] Maybe some first day of school or soccer game or ultrasound photos could be posted.
It’s easier to just summarize everything with the one phrase that really captures our family right now: “Penis is a private part and Venus is a planet.”
That’s what Rush and Tate say at least a few times every day, brought on by my insistence that they stop saying penis just to make each other laugh. So now they say Venus and laugh and laugh and then give me that statement. I kind of thought those kind of jokes would show up later, like closer to age 10 or 12…?
Now that we’re all caught up on the Williams family, here’s what’s happening Today:
(Not this picture by the way, all these pics are from our vacation back in July.)
It’s quiet upstairs so there’s a good chance both boys are napping. They are funny and growing and most definitely little kids and not babies. There’s definitely a new independence and self-sufficiency for both of them.
I’ve been making cinnamon raisin bread, so I’m about to go eat another piece of that. As Trent would say, “Your doctor did tell you to gain more weight though, so you’re okay.” It’s a good husband who will turn your OB’s words around on you at 9 PM when you’re shoving buttered sugar bread into your already-reached-the-allotted-pregnancy-weight-gain-with-three-months-to-go cake hole.
Approximately eight years ago, in our apartment off Buffalo Speedway, Trent and I bought two of IKEA’s least expensive floor lamps. A few weeks ago, one of them finally gave out and today the second one followed it. Both times I was sufficiently exasperated at the poor boys for rough-housing the lamp over into the window where it disconnected from its base, because agh, we bought that for twelve dollars in 2005 and now it’s broken forever! And we’ll probably be forced to buy an end table!
I’m coming around to a peaceful state as our material possessions systematically fall apart, because hopefully our home, as it gets more crowded and shabby, will start to resemble The Burrow. (!)
All my pregnant brain is letting me read is Harry Potter. Over and over.
And now time for the cinnamon raisin bread, or possibly the last two waffles from the freezer. This baby isn’t going to reach 10 pounds on its own.
