Baby is Here

Okay, for those of you who don't know (and I've been a little too preoccupied to write - - so sorry), we got the surprise of our life.

We welcomed little Alexandria Joy into the world last Thursday at 6:34 p.m. She's 10 days old now and is the sweetest little gal. She was such a good sleeper until I had some caffeine. She didn't fall totally asleep until 2:00 a.m. last night, and needless-to-say, I'm a little groggy today.

Will fill the blogging world in on the details of her birth (we hadn't settled on her name because we were SO SURE she was a boy!)...in a few days. In addition to her birth, we also had to take our older two to get tubes in their ears when Lexi was just 6 days old. This has been quite a week as you can well imagine.

Thankfully, Jeff's mom is here occupying "the squeaky wheel" who needs loads of attention!!

Here's a couple of pictures of my newest little precious.

Violated in My Sleep

I have been violated and defiled, desecrated and dishonored, ravaged and ruined.

Just this morning Jeff woke up, kissed me goodbye at his usual ungodly hour of 4 a.m., and I drifted back into an uneasy sleep. Yes, I’m still pregnant, so it’s really difficult to find a comfortable position. Only two positions work. My left side or my right side, which is how I don’t even quite understand how the following happened.

I’m guessing I had just gotten back to sleep when I felt something on my neck. With unusual swiftness and agility of motion, I jerked awake and flicked said something off my neck (which was almost to my chin). I turned on the lamp, tossed pillows aside, threw back the covers, and investigated every inch of my bed. Not finding a blessed thing, I thought I must have been dreaming or my hair had tickled my throat.

I turned back to my nightstand to switch off the lamp when I saw IT.

IT WAS A ROACH and IT WAS THE SOMETHING I HAD FELT CRAWLING ON MY THROAT AND ALMOST TO MY MOUTH.

My head screamed while my eyes refused to believe what I was witnessing.

I gagged, I cringed, and I was almost in tears. The roach was on its back wiggling its vile spindly legs in the air. I didn’t even stop to find a shoe to prove my might against this foe. I was prayerful that Jeff was still in the house so I ran down the stairs clomping with all the might and speed of a past due waddler. He thought my water had broke. I managed to choke out what had happened and in tears, asked him to go take care of it.

Bravely, my fine soldier marched upstairs and smote that molten wretch. And then he came down with its smashed body lying flattened and defeated against the bottom of his shoe. I shivered as he passed by, realizing that the most repellent of critters had just been sneaking its way across my body, inching ever so closely to my mouth. What if? I dare not think it.

It was 4:30 by this time, and do you think I was going to crawl back in my bed? Oh, no.

I planted myself firmly on the sofa, while Jeff mummified me…even my head. I still couldn’t go back to sleep because I kept peeking out to see if there were any more posed for attack. Finally, with my head cocooned ‘neath my blankets, I drifted in and out of sleep until I heard the children stirring, and I refused to venture back in my room until the mid-morning daylight could expose the dark fiends who lurk uninvited in my sanctuary.

You know. The worst part of this is that Terminix came just this past Friday and sprayed my house and I almost told him not to bother with the inside because we weren’t having any troubles…but I decided to go ahead.

Every time I think about what happened, and every time I relive those terrifying moments, I cringe and snap my mouth shut. I told Jeff I was either going to start sleeping with a beekeeper’s hat, a medical mask, or hang mosquito netting around my bed because that violation of my person will not happen again.

I just got off the phone with Terminix to lodge my complaint and ask them to come back out and douse my upstairs. One would think that sharing a story like that with another woman (even one who has to take these kinds of phone calls for a living) would solicit a little sympathy. Nope. I got none, even when I told her how distressing it was to wake up to a roach crawling on my neck. She didn’t even respond. A little concern would have worked wonders for me.

But, they are coming back tomorrow, and I hope this house stinks to high heaven when they leave because I want even the fumes to annihilate and disintegrate potential intruders before they get close enough to desecrate one of my children...or me again.

This is one war I will win.

Crab Apple

I really ought to be in bed. I stayed up working on some things and had a cup of fully loaded coffee to keep me going. It's now 11:30 and night. Right now, I ought to be slipping ‘neath my cool sheets and drifting off into blissful oblivion. But wait. I’m still pregnant. Very pregnant, mind you. And I’m not too thrilled with that. I am due in 4 days and I think the action won’t start until next week, and even that's a maybe. I think of my bed and realize that even if I were to slip ‘neath my sheets, comfortable oblivion will escape me. I can’t seem to lie in any position that knocks me slam out. And here, I pause to look over at Jeff peacefully snoring (yes, he does that only when he’s bone weary and today must have been that kind of day for him), and I think “I can’t fall asleep listening to that.” So I turn my thoughts backward and think about my own day.

Today, it was nearly 80 degrees outside. Today, my toes swoll up like hot Vienna sausages on a bed of smoldering coals and I could barely move them. Today, I didn’t get to nap because this horrendous time change messed with my childrens' perfectly perfect schedules. Today, I had some lovely visitors and Gideon showed his imperfect sin nature by slapping our youngest company in the back of the head while she was calmly eating her pizza, and then, he turned on his sister. Today, I took the children outside to enjoy the weather and work off some of that tension they seemed to be sporting, but I was sweltering and miserable, so I was cranky and completely without grace for their little scrapes and misfortunes. Today, I temporarily hurt Jeff’s feelings because in giving himself a haircut I thought he missed a huge patch on the back of his head on purpose and I laughed…alot. Note to self: he didn’t. Today, I noticed that I was starting to grow jowls like Jabba the Hut and perhaps microscopic germs were having a hay-day surfing the waves. Today, I had to put on Jeff’s basketball shorts because I have nothing cool to wear and I look like a wanna be balla’. Today, I didn’t even enjoy my favorite show on t.v. “Dancing with the Stars” and I can’t quite figure out why.

What’s wrong with me?

Oh, did I fail to mention just how pregnant I was? No. Okay. Just checking.

Don’t pity me. This has happened every year for the past three years. Ought I be surprised by the uncomfortable unpleasantness of these last few days? Of course not.

But, somehow, unlike some things in life, this just doesn’t get any easier.

I can say that I am most excited about meeting the newest little member of the family, but it’s just this interminable waiting, lack of bodily agility and balance, instantaneous swelling of fingers and toes… and steady growth of personal girth that finds me pessimistic and crabby in this late stage of the game.

And did I mention, and I only do because it just crossed my mind…that one of the doctor’s I saw quickly and pointedly informed me that I have varicose veins in my legs and the way to “cure” them or “lessen them” is to sit with my feet propped up or elevated. Umm, I don’t think she realized I have a 1- and 2-year old at home. Sitting with feet elevated? What’s that?

Enough of this tired moroseness for today. Tomorrow I shall try to renew my mind and sanctify my thoughts so I can share with joy instead of self-pity! Your prayers are appreciated on that front.

Until the baby comes, I remain very pregnantly yours….