Last November 13th, I thought I was going to give my mother the BEST birthday present (it's her birthday).
I was going to call her, after my trip to the OBGYN, to tell her I was pregnant.
I had an appt for a 8 week ultrasound and despite the massive amount of hormones I was on due to some earlier bleeding - I was looking forward to giving her a call.

Until I had my appointment.


That was when they told me it wasn't a baby, hadn't ever been one - and that it was time to let it go on it's way. Except that it just led to almost two weeks of one of the worst physical nightmares I've ever had.


Instead of calling my mom to tell her happy news, I called her and cried. And she cried too and it was a fairly miserable present to give her.


So this year, I was scheduled for a visit to the high risk OB - on November 13.


I got a little paranoid right before it - as you might've noticed from an earlier post. I just kept thinking,"This is too normal. This is TOO ok. Something is wrong."


When they started the ultrsound.....I held my breath.


Until she moved.

She is beautiful. And by the little glimpse she gave us of the goodies - she is in fact a she. We'll super double check that in 30 days or so. If she is, in fact, a she - she will be Julia Suzanne. Named after the Beatles Song Julia - and my mother's best friend Susan who is far more family to me than most of the people I'm related to.

Not familiar with the song? Well you should be. I'm going to be singing it a lot from now on.

I think it's the transition from being irretrievably sick, cramping, in danger of miscarriage to totally smooth sailing that's got me flummoxed.


I keep forgetting I'm pregnant.


Now, don't get me wrong. My already gigantic G size cup boobs are even bigger and my round ligaments are stretching and hurting.....I've got the pregnant aches and pains.


I can feel the baby moving when it suits her (still saying HER)......but like.......

I guess all that constant vomitting was validating the pregnancy to me somehow. And now it's stopped.

I put a rational mind to it earlier, and realized that the last two pair of slacks I can WEAR used to be so BIG on me my husband would say they looked like CLOWN pants, and now they fit. And suddenly - I swear JUST tonight - my jeans are too tight.

I know part of it is anxiety because of the past two miscarriages and I can digest that ok. I can look at it objectively and say "You're looking for something to be wrong." But in fact.....if I'm sitting still like I am now.....

I don't feel pregnant.

Now of course, to make me a liar the little 16 week old human just flooped around but you get what I mean. If I took my bra off - I'd feel it. I'd be wishing I had a midget to walk in front of me to hold up my boobs. A strong midget, might I add.

But there are these weird moments, when I forget - until some ache or pain brings me back to it.

Maybe I felt this way before, but I sure don't remember it. Maybe I'm just worried or nervous because of all this ADVANCED MATERNAL AGE talk.

I go tomorrow for my next visit to the HIGH RISK OB where they are again going to rave about my ADVANCED MATERNAL AGE and then we are going to have one long drawn out ultrasound while they hunt for neural tube defects. Personally I am against these, and have decided we won't have any.

What I am looking for is the wiener. Or lack thereof, more specifically.


This, according to baby center is what my tiny human looks like.



My ass looks really good, don't you think?
I can wait to see her or him tomorrow. And yeah, I'll admit it. I'll feel a twinge of sad if it's a him. But it'll pass - and all I will be is excited about another beautiful boy in my life. All I want is healthy. Healthy will do.

Apparently people with autism are somewhat offended - however, as a parent of austistic boys - I understand the words - written by the parents of autistic children.
It is a nightmare.

The true measure of a man, I think, is what sort of a Father he is. Does he let you help cook when you are little, so that you feel included?

Does he take you to places that are wonderful and magical - when you are about 6?

My children are so lucky. Their father wants them to have the happiest childhood possible, and on a daily basis tries to fill their hours with memories to carry through out their lives. He isn't a father who's absentee all week and then gives them tacit attention on the weekends. He's 100% plugged in all the time.

And I'm lucky, because I chose a man who isn't afraid to make being a Dad a real job. Because of him, we have two autistic twins that we can take everywhere - which never ceases to amaze educators and doctors. They know how to act, and they are well loved.

We have a seven year old who is extraordinary and kind beyond reason some days. Because of the words and lessons he heard from his father every day.

Being a parent isn't easy. Being a parent of special needs children is downright torturous some days. His heart, and his unwillingness to ever give up make him one of the greatest heroes I've ever met.

Today is his birthday. He's 41 and I only wish I had met him sooner - because I am jealous of all the days that came before we met. Since I cannot have those days, my only wish will have to be this - if he lives to be one hundred, I hope I live be be one hundred minus one day.

So that I never have to live one day without him.

I love you Hunny.

And so it begins.
I was getting dressed innocently enough this morning. Underwear, bra, knee highs, t-shirt and then I pull on my pants.
Puuuuuuuuuuuuulllllllllllllllll.
OMG.
My pants don't fit.
Now it's not like this event is COMPLETELY unexpected. I know the baby grows and I'll have to get maternity pants but it's like - OVERNIGHT my pants don't fit.
What is she DOING in there?
Luckily I have a couple of pair of pleated pants that are pretty loose in regular, non-preggo times and I slipped a pair of those on before running out the door.
But I'm floored - I have another pair just like the ones I put on this morning and I know they fit like three days ago.
The big belly cometh.
I can hardly wait.

My oldest boy says to me, as we're loading up to head downtown ATL,"Can we listen to some KISS?"
To which I say "Ummm - yes - why?"
"Because," he says,"I wanna listen to something that rocks."

Okay then.


Clearly his current social circle likes to ROCK.

I have to confess that I bought another blue pumpkin because Martha Stewart made me. She's guilted me like three years in a row now, with their chic and unusual color but by god - NEXT YEAR I am going to just buy one for decoration because they are a MOFO to clean. DENSE as crap and thick as hell with meat - they are impossible to carve.

Due to a vicious round of rotovirus or norovirus or whatever it is that SHUT DOWN my kids school on Friday - we were all busy barfing, or laying on the bathroom floor, or pooping, or barfing and pooping, so we didn't get to carving all the rest of our pumpkins. Thus - PAINTING PARTY!

The littlest boy was still recovering from being sickee poo, and fell asleep on the sofa. But the big boy and the middle boy were ready to paint!

With some help from Daddy with the littlest boy's pumpkin - we were ready for Halloween!
Of course our neighborhood is full of old fogeys who don't turn their lights on or give out candy so we went to a nearby neighborhood to give them a scare!

That's right, a banana, hot dog and a Clone Trooper (Captain REX to be exact) are on the loose. NOW GIVE US SOME CANDY!

You don't think we're scary? OH REALLY? How about NOW........

STILL NOT SCARY? Oh well.......I've got your scary coming then.......hold on.....

Yeah, I thought that would get you.

Silly holidays like Halloween are some of the best parts of being a Mom. Even the twins got it this year and were excited as we went around getting treats.

Next year - NO ROTOVIRUS!

Wednesday night I had a company dinner and so arrived home late. When I got home, my oldest boy was complaining of tummy problems and quickly dashed to the bathroom. When he came out, he was red faced and clammy with watery eyes.
In short,he looked really bad.
So we talk about how he feels and he tells me that his tummy really hurts.
And then he says "May I be excused?" and of course we say yes and he says "I have to go throw up."
Which he then does.
All night long.

It goes on until about 4am, and this is where I have to admit something.

OMG I lay there in terror, in between the vomit, hoping that he didn't sit up and puke all over me. Some moms get all barfed up and they must have Teflon skin - not me. I cannot STAND it. I mean - I'm THERE for him, wiping his mouth, giving him a drink to rinse and spit.....getting towels, giving hugs.
Oh GOD please don't puke on me.

He wanted to snuggle up and lay on me and that just kept me awake even more. I could hear every gurgle of his tummy, every moan in his sleep even better and I'm a ball of tension - don't barf on me please don't barf on me.

The next morning he bounces out of bed completely excited and off we went to school - he was feeling great and I chalked it up to something he ate. (Of course by then I'm not feeling go at all).

Of course the school called a few hours later. They had 150 kids have to go home due to vomiting and mine was one of them. The board of health showed up and they've closed the school because it's more than 10% of the school population.

All I know is - nobody barfed on me, and that is all good.

I leave you with a pic of the twins, on pajama day.

but not as much as tomorrow.

It's official. Fall is here. We marked the occasion by heading to the mountains to the Mecca of pumpkin acqusition - BURTS FARM.

We had to start with that most joyous of all fall traditions - THE HAYRIDE. Why oh why is this so much fun? Is it because we don't have HAY and wagons in our daily lives (well, we nonfarmer types don't). I mean, it's messy, everyone's allergies go nuts, there's a bumpity ride. But still. It's absolutely joyous fun - especially for the munchkins - you can absolutely see the joy.

And well you know, then we had to get some pumpkins!

First up - the FAMILY pumpkin. We opted NOT to get some hundred pound monstrosity this year.

And then the boys each got to pick one out.
You can see Miles is being an awfully big boy getting his own.

The littlest one kicked this white one - so we decided THAT one was his.

And then Mommy picked out a blue one and Daddy picked out an old fashioned one.

So as you can imagine - we've got some pumpkin carving to do! It's going to be a busy night one night VERY soon I tell you what.