HA!
Did all little hearts go pitter-pat?!? Did all eyes widen? Did breath gasp?!?!
Gotcha. Didn't I?!?
Apparently, my two day blog hiatus has increased speculation of Bunkin's arrival. To me, this is funny, because I don't normally blog every day anyway. But I am happy that there are so many people excited and anxious for/with me. Perhaps from now until "D-DAY" I'll try and post a little something each day, thataway, you have warrant to speculate when my absence is noticed. Thanks for all your prayers, well-wishes, and shared enthusiasm. You guys are great. No...GREAT.
If only we could all sign a petition for this little one to make an appearance....that sure would be handy. It's official-I am ONE week away from my due date. Seven days. I've never been seven days away from my due date and still pregnant before. It's a new experience. But I am happy to report: I have now finished coordinated booties and hat for my little rebellious, procrastinating Bunkin.
Maybe Bunkin is waiting until Papa gets me my much needed van?!?! Hmmmm!?!? Suppose?! That is very likely, methinks.
My children were highjacked by Matt's parents for the whole day today. For the first time ever in their little lives. It was quite an experience. I thought I ought to use it wisely, you know:
Put my feet up.
Have a constant cocoa in hand.
Take a five hour nap in the middle of the day.
Snack on white cheddar rice cakes and honey roasted cashews. And pickles. And ice cream.
Crochet a bit (still with elevated feet)
then read MARYJANE'S Ideabook, Cookbook, Ideabook recently acquired through Interlibrary Loan until my eyelids again became droopy, when I would succomb to the most delicious bit of dreaming I could possibly muster.
Instead: I decided to be rational and get some Christmas shopping out of the way. It will be easier now, without two sets of tired, trailing little feet and a new baby to nurse, right? So I went. And walked. And admired. And forked over bits of money, here and there. My goal was to buy something for my Rynnie-Roo. Something wonderful. Something that makes her heart sing. We, after all, only get the children three things each (on a GOOD year.) Something they need, something they want, and a book. I absolutely refuse to spend money on anything that doesn't bring about a little gasp and a huge bearhug of thanks. and I absolutely refuse to spend an arm and a leg. And I absolutely refuse to buy anything that will not last (or the intrigue of it) for more than a few moments. Yes. I have my sights high.
I didn't find anything that screams Corynn, so money still warms in pockets, awaiting that special gift. I did get several gifts for other family members though. And I did get each of the children their books. I am especially excited about the book for Corynn (which of course, is/will be enjoyed by all children present and future). It is called The Greatest Skating Race: A World War II Story from the Netherlands by Louise Borden. Perfectly fitting for our family, since it is the heritage passed down from my Oma and Opa. Hardcover, for $5.00, and in a store that has just one shelf of books as an afterthought. Perfectly wonderful!
I sit here now, typing away, awaiting the headlights that tell of my Mattie's return home, so that we might go and pick up our little prodigals. I miss them. At times, I LONG for silence and inwardly groan at the elephant footsteps constantly on my ear. But without them, the silence of the house is deafening. Often, I long to have a babysitter to go get shopping done-quickly, efficiently, and void of "I'm tired, can we go home?!" but when an opportunity arises like today, when I am by my lonesome, I realize just how much I enjoy exclaiming over the things we see and answering silly questions from the backseat during the carride, and hearing the constant "Can you read me a story from your head, Mama?!?"
You never know what you have, until the moment you don't have it. Time to get away is often good, just to remind you how wonderful it is to return.
I love my family. So very, very much.
Sounds like a nice day to me, but I DO know what you mean about missing the kids when they're gone. I admire your Christmas shopping techniques!
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like you had a wonderful day. I feel the same way about my children when they are not here. They are now 17, 15, and 9 and I'm at the stage of wondering what in the world will I do when they are grown and gone!
ReplyDeleteThat is exactly our thoughts about buying Christmas gifts for our kids. We bought them one thing they really wanted, something they needed (usually clothing), and a book. On a good year, they got three items and a book.
ReplyDeleteI also collected little precious items over the year to put in the Christmas morning stocking. Stephanie and I were just talking about stockings, how some years they actually cost more to put together than the gifts we gave (but being purchased throughout the year, it never hurt the budget). Especially girl's "stuff".
There was one year I remember we were financially better off than others and they both got even more. Christopher was small enough that he thought the more the better but my daughter was in college at the time.
She told me it was a surprise to her that getting more made her no happier than getting her usual amount. :)
Oh, man! I want to see a BUNKIN photo! (the one of your eyeball is quite creative, though!)
ReplyDeleteps. Mrs. MK~ that is Corynn's eye: she is WAY more expressive than I (and that says a lot.) ;-)
ReplyDeleteNo, make that MEG said...
ReplyDeleteMrs. N,
I have a bone to pick with you! There I am looking at Mom's blogger dashboard (it lists all the blogs she likes and their latest posts). I'm looking down through and I see "SUPPRISE ANNOUNCEMENT". I had no need to look and see who posted it. I just knew it was you. YES, she's having the baby!!! Looky . . . there's a picture of Corynn staring at the baby, little hearts going pitter-pat, gasping. This all is good, VERY good! OH, No! "Gotcha". What's that suppose to mean? She didn't...oh, no, she did.
After all the trauma you put me through, I have only one thing to say to you "This is a gross misuse of blogging and you should just be ashamed of yourself for getting poor 'sniff' me all excited."
You'd think I'd be used to this kind of thing living with Dad, wouldn't you? Oh, no! That's just the problem. I'm used to "gotchas" with Dad, but not with other people. Well, got to go before Mom never lets me write you again.
Meg