Forever can never be long enough for me to feel like I've had long enough with you...

- "Marry Me" by Train (Save Me, San Francisco)

love it!

I am not ashamed to admit that I could literally stare at this picture of this side table for hours and be perfectly content. Hours.

Imagine how many more hours I could stare at it if it were in my HOME, like it should be. It puts a huge smile on my face. What about yours?

The lovely turquoise side table can be found from this etsy shop, here.


tribute to MJ?

At the beginning of the month Trask and I went to Taylor's very first parent-teacher conference for preschool. It was pretty stinking adorable, and yes, I was nervous, because school stuff just gets me all jittery. I thought I would get over it after graduating from college, but nope, still get the queasies and jitters, even for my son.

Taylor's class had worked on some benchmark tasks with the teachers and did simple tasks ranging from motor skill coordination to smarty-pants stuff like counting, colors, shapes, etc, with a splash of social development, too.

Taylor had talked about the test workbook a little bit a few weeks before the conference, and told me it was really hard. I wasn't sure what to expect when we got to the conference, but reminded myself that he's the very youngest in his class (although one of the biggest), and had to remind myself that these are just benchmarks and don't determine his education for the rest of his life. (See how high-strung I can get?!).

The meeting was too cute. And Taylor is a smart boy. I already knew that. What I didn't know was that Taylor shared some talents with the late and beloved Michael Jackson. For the motor skills portion of the test, when he was asked to walk on his tip toes a few feet, he did so. And then, without being asked, proceeded to do it backwards. I imagine he had one white glove on and perhaps a hat, but I wasn't there, so I'm not sure. I love that he wanted to go above and beyond and show off a little bit. Wonder where he gets that from.

Trying to moonwalk like MJ... just another reason this kid is so dang cool. But I have to say that, don't I?!


someday soon...

Can't wait to lose the baby weight and buy this shirt as a special treat!! Make sure you check out the whole etsy shop - it's absolutely amazing!!

I adore plans.

I went to my weekly doctor's appointment this morning hoping and praying that when I got there, magically Carsten's head would be dangling out of me, but it didn't happen. Yeah, I was shocked, too.

This appointment went a lot like last week's. I haven't progressed any, and the contractions have stopped, or have slowed WAY down. In general I feel super nauseous all the time, but other than that, I'm doing okay.

My doctor was in a great mood this morning. It must be because the sun was shining and it's Friday. I decided to take advantage of her bright and sunny mood and asked about induction. I didn't get pushy at all (which should surprise most of you.) My exact words were: "since I hit my due date in 9 days, do you want to talk about induction at our next appointment or now?" and all of a sudden, she was scheduling me for next Friday!!

That's right, friends. If Carsten doesn't decide to come on his own (which I kind of doubt he will), I'll be at the hospital at 7:30 AM next Friday! One week. This is my last weekend with an only child. It feels surreal.

Knowing all of this makes me want to clean the house and really get things ready. Well, things are already all ready, but you know, just to double check and get excited!!


eviction notice

I want this child out of me. Simple as that!

I hope everyone is having a great week so far - think labor-inducing thoughts, if you'd be so kind.



will it come to this?!

According to the geniuses at WebMD and legend, when a pregnant Plains Indian woman was near term and showed no sign of going into labor, tribe members would tie her to a rock in an open field and stage a mock "attack," pulling up their horses only at the very last minute, in hopes of inducing labor. The Pilgrims, for their part, would stand women whose babies were late against a pole, strap them to it, and pound the pole up and down against the ground -- apparently hoping to shake the baby loose.

This really got me thinking. What would scare this baby out of me, if I saw it charging towards me:
  • Carrot Top
  • a clown
  • a raccoon with rabies
  • Birdman
  • Mike Ditka
  • anyone on a unicycle
It also got me to thinking who I'd like to tie to a pole and pound against the ground, but I'll keep that list private, for now.

rain on my face.

Dear Lady outside of Target,

Hi cutie. Thank you so much for choosing to shake all the raindrops off your umbrella right in my face, while I was less than 2 feet away from you. How'd you know I was having a hot flash and a contraction? You mind-reader, you. Also, thank you for ignoring my scowl after you doused me in water. I hope your umbrella is super dry.


Pssst: Umbrella picture found here.

I can still talk!


I've been having contractions lately. A lot of them. And pretty close together. My body is trying to act like it knows what it is doing! I love it.

I went to the doctor yesterday with the husband in tow and Taylor on a play date with the lovely Julie Flood and daughter Audrey. The doctor confirmed my contractions, so that was nice to know that I am not going completely crazy. I was dilated to 1.5 centimeters.

Readers, I am so sorry I just told you that last sentence. TMI!? Wait, you've read this blog before and came back for more, apparently, so I take back that apology, unless it really creeped you out. Sorry.

The doctor said she didn't care about how close or how long my contractions were, but just to come in when I couldn't talk during one of them because of the pain. So far I can talk or whine through all of them, and I am sure it's not because I'm super tough.

My doctor said it could be hours or days or weeks until I'm ready to deliver. I sarcastically thanked her for her precision in this estimate. Because IT'S NOT LIKE I AM A PLANNER OR ANYTHING.

So who knows how long I'll still have this baby in me. He hasn't dropped yet, so not sure why I'm so sore. (That's not an open invitation to make guesses). My doctor gave me this advice: just get your water to break and then you're golden. And I have so many things I want to say in response to that, including googling water breaking techniques, or finding a pair of knitting needles, sitting on re bar... well, never mind.

Just wanted to update all my lovelies!!

Have a great weekend! Any prediction on when Carsten is going to arrive? And if my water will break in public (my worst fear!!).



on the down low

Carsten is starting to drop, so things are low, and ummm, painful. There's pressure in places I don't want to talk about and you don't want to hear about.

There's a solution.

Well, it won't solve any of the above problems, but it will distract me from the discomfort and pain, I hope.

I'm getting a pedicure today while Taylor is at preschool. This isn't breaking news or anything, but I'm pretty excited about it. (I've had only two in the past year!). I can't even imagine trying to reach my feet long enough to paint my toes, so I won't. Instead, I'll pay someone else to touch my feet. I hope they don't gag. Or at least I hope they save their gagging for after I leave. It's the polite thing to do.

I may take a picture of my toes when they are all done and post them up here, just to upset Winn. She hates feet. Or maybe it's just my feet. Either way, I like to tease her. That's how I show people I like them. I guess I'm kinda like a third grade boy.

Also, please send happy parking lot wishes my way. After preschool Taylor is going to Nike to go do more shoe fit testing and I hope I get a parking spot somewhere close... I can only waddle so far and for so long. Wish I had a cast on my leg so I could tell people I had a real athletic injury and my waddle isn't from a baby dropping into birthing position. It just sounds better. But my real situation is far more hard core. Right?!

Above picture from here.



Just got a call from my nurse at the doctor's office (yes, she's my nurse, I love her). All my tests came back normal. Proof I'm normal! I should ask them for a certificate or some proof on paper so I can carry it around and show people who question me and/or my ways.

This doesn't answer my questions about why I'm dizzy, but at least we know that I'm not completely broken.

My next appointment is this Thursday, so we'll see what happens between now and then. I am still thinking he'll be here before his due-date, one way or another, but I'm not so good at predicting things, so don't hold me to it.

Thanks for the well-wishes, the sweet comments, the prayers and good thoughts, I appreciate each and every one of them!

Peace out and let's talk soon!


a collection, of sorts

Being pregnant is so glamorous I just can't stand it any more! After yesterday's crazy appointment at my doctor's office, I kind of think I want to just throw in the towel and hide in a corner, and when the time comes, deliver this baby myself. Or make someone else have this baby for me. Is it too late for that?

So if you've been a long time reader of my blog, you know that I have been having dizzy spells for almost a year. February 20th will mark one year, and if you really want to refresh your memory, you can read my blog post about the dizzies here.

I had a baby appointment yesterday morning, a normal, routine check up. We're on to weekly appointments now, and they involve peeing in a cup, getting my tummy measured, listening to Carsten's heartbeat and having me pee in a small cup that I can't see. Oh, and then the doctor kindly listens to me bitch and gripe a little bit, and then she pats my butt and sends me on my way, saying GO TEAM! as I leave. Kind of.

This appointment was different. I didn't know it was going to be. If I had known, I would have brought Trask with me, but instead, I just took Taylor and figured we'd be in and out of the office in a flash, and why bother with Trask's work schedule. Right?

So Taylor and I start our appointment at 9:15. He asks awkward questions like why am I peeing in a cup and why they want mama's pee-pee. I made up silly answers and he was fine with that. He watched me get weighed and then in the exam room, he patiently sat on the bench and ate some fruit snacks.

When the time came, I mentioned to my sweet doctor that I have been still really dizzy and lightheaded, almost to the point of feeling like I am going to pass out, even if I am just sitting. This concerned her. She double checked that I drink lots of water. Yes, I do. Do I have headaches? Sometimes. Blurred vision? Nope. So she checks my blood pressure again and it's higher than it has been so far (aside from the end of my pregnancy with Taylor, when I almost broke the cuff and the gauge).

Since my BP was elevated, she wanted to hear my heart, to see what was making me dizzy. She did this a few times, and felt the pulse in my wrist on and off, too. After awhile, she finally told me that she heard my heart skipping a beat every once in awhile, so she decided I needed to go across the street to the hospital to have an EKG. Yay. BUT before I was to go to the hospital, I was instructed to go to THE LAB.

At the lab, I was given a big, glorified milk jug and a little trap, and have been instructed to collect all my PEE for 24 hours straight, and to keep it refrigerated. Good thing I don't have wild Friday nights planned anymore, I can't even imagine finding a cooler that would coordinate with my outfit that would be big enough to lug my pee jar around in. And people would ask questions. Or maybe they'd assume a small dog was in there and would want to see my pet. I'd show them my pee jar and I just don't think that's a good way to make friends. So off I go with my pee jar and instructions on pee trapping, and before I get out the door, they steal a vial or two of my blood, just because I haven't been degraded enough.

By the time I get out of the lab, Trask is there to help me out, so together we walk across the street to the hospital for EKG time. I liked having all the wires attached to me, I felt very futuristic and robotic, and I got to lay in a reclining chair. It was so comfy. I may ask to go back today, because the stupid couch here at home is not cutting it.

Anyway, you guys, I'm still collecting my pee. I have 3 more hours of doing so, and then I get to go turn it in, kind of like turning in a book report. The jug is heavy and it makes me kinda proud that I filled the whole thing up. I think I'll spare you the pictures though.

So, that's what I've been up to. And after reading this, are you guys going to go and suggest my blog to all your friends? Can't wait to meet them!


belly bump

I think pregnancy is just about the cutest thing - on anyone else but me! Don't get me wrong, I am happy to be expecting my second son, but I'm just not one of those deranged, erm, lucky people that LOVE being pregnant. I run into these nuts, erm, folks, every once in awhile and they gush over how they love getting big, they love feeling the baby move, and they love that whenever they fart, a rainbow comes out of their butt. I am not one of those people, but sometimes I wish I was.

I started off this pregnancy a bit heavier than I would have liked, and nothing like I had fantasized about. I imagined my second pregnancy would be so different than my first. That I would have energy, that I would be super skinny everywhere but in my belly, and it would just look like I had a basketball under my t-shirt. I dreamt of smooth, stretch-mark free skin, and leak-free moments. Alas, it was all that, a dream.

I am 36.5 weeks along and happy that the baby should be here sooner rather than later. At least I know I won't be at a 4th of July BBQ still pregnant, so I am holding on to that. So while I dream of jeans without a band on them, you know, jeans that actually button and zip, and I dream of pedicures that I can actually SEE, and I dream of not hitting my ever-growing stomach with the refrigerator door, I focus on these pictures to get me through.

These pictures were taken about a month ago by my dear friend and talented photographer Julie Flood, and looking at these pictures right now calm me down a bit. They remind me that it's okay that I'm the size of a house, because it's almost over!! It's almost time!!!

Thanks so much, Julie, for helping me remember this, and for capturing such fun moments with the boys I love so much, in and out of the womb. I definitely think they are worth all this!

Sweethearts Day

Valentine's Day has always been a chaotic holiday for me, ever since I can remember, and yes, even back in middle school. I'm not sure if I'm a fan of Valentine's Day, or if it's my true enemy.

I have had some wonderful V-Days with balloons, secret admirers, decorated lockers, getaways to the beach and snuggles. I have also had some V-Days full of tears, bad chicken, hokey presents and shattered expectations. I think that Valentine's Day is a double-edged sword, and sometimes my expectations are so high that nothing could even come close to meeting them, and I end up ruining it, for myself.

This year I am trying something new - I am throwing my impossible-to-achieve expectations out the window! (Did you hear that, Trask!? Do you believe it?! Does it feel like a trick?!). I am going to be 38 weeks pregnant and tired. The only expectation I am going to have of this day is to be able to relax and have family time together, and to watch the NBA All-Star game. And maybe request this baby be taken out of me. But that's just a maybe.

I am so excited that Taylor is in preschool this year and will get to experience Valentine's Day with his class. I can't wait to make the class cookies and goodie bags, and to help Taylor sign his name on all the cute valentines that he picked out for his classmates, and help him select the perfect one for the special girl in his class that he's smitten with.

This year I am going to focus on the love that I have, and not on what I expect, because everything I have is more than enough, and I am very blessed. We shouldn't have a designated day to say 'I love you', it should be an every day, every opportunity sort of thing, and here at the Rogers' House, it usually is, except on Valentine's Day. Kind of ironic.

So for what it's worth, Happy Valentine's Day to all my friends and family!! Love ya!

*Picture of Taylor, one of my sweethearts, taken by Julie Flood.