Nope

My due date is one month from today and I realize that blogging lulls at this point will cause many wonderings of "has she?" So I'll try to do better. We unveiled the new kitchen here on Christmas morning and it was received with an encouraging amount of enthusiasm. We then headed to Port Neches had a good few days at my parents' house where the gift giving continued. The husband and I even went to a movie. What we'd planned to see wasn't playing anymore and we settled on "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," which was so long and almost pointlessly meandering that I began to actually ache with wanting the credits to roll. AND some parent had brought their consumptive? croupy? tuberculosis-y? toddler with them (because apparently it's more important to go see a 3 hour movie on opening day than it is to actually stay home with your sick kid) and approximately every 4 minutes the poor child would launch into a wet hacking spasm of coughing which would turn the husband (who is an unapologetic germaphobe) into a writhing Howard Hughes. If I didn't know it was physiologically impossible, I'd say he held his breath through the entire 3 hours. I think he gave some serious thought to actually drinking the bottle of Purell in his pocket at one point. It was an interesting case study in group dynamics that after each of the child's episodes, several adults in the packed theater would then have spasmodic coughing episodes of their very own. Plus the theater there at the Central Mall still smells strongly of hurricane mold and other olfactory detritus. So, a fun date night for us!

I think the nesting is just about complete around here. I even washed crib sheets today and have the suitcase out and ready to pack. If Helena Jane is anything like her siblings she will show up precisely 5 days past her actual due date, but I don't want to assume.

Veiled in flesh the Godhead see

Fetal test sheds light but stirs ethical debate.

It's a headline on the front page of the Houston Chronicle today. Let's see if I can choose a favorite quote: (emphases mine)

"Advocates say the test uncovers tragic conditions, allowing couples to terminate the pregnancy and spare themselves the emotionally and financially exhausting ordeal of caring for a severely disabled child."

or,
"As long as the information is reliable, a pregnant woman has a right to know as much as possible about the kind of parenting she'd face."

or,
"They (ethicists) debate whether it's a 'good or bad eugenics,' noting that before Adolf Hitler gave it a bad name, eugenics was science's hope for a better future, the answer to economic inequities and social ills."

and, then, this:
"Eighty to 95 percent of women who receive a Down Syndrome diagnosis after such screening abort, according to studies cited by the National Down Syndrome Society."

I acknowledge that I am an emotional pregnant woman. That I spent a chunk of the morning thinking about Mary in a dirty stable. That I wept through a short video at church showing me a cesspool in Sierra Leone where mothers had no choice but to get water for their children. Then rejoiced over the simple miracle of what can happen when a few people here chose to forgo expensive Christmas presents to instead build wells spouting clean water. Then heard on the radio a story Amy Grant told about singing "Breath of Heaven"while looking at the face of Cindy Parseghian, who sat in the front row and whose three kids were living with and, then, dying of a rare genetic disorder called Niemann-Pick disease. Then while I'm reading this article I have the t.v. on and there on Extreme Makeover Home Edition was this amazing family with two sweet daughters with the genetic disorder spinal muscular atrophy, which has also stricken Hannah, the beautiful daughter of my friends Lee and Eric. Can you get your head around it? Because I can't. But I know the difference between a cesspool and living water.

Do you hear what I hear

Hudson has been working on saying Harper's name for a couple of months now. It started off as "Arp" then progressed to "Harp" and then, today, we seem to have settled on "HOPPY!" It is very, very endearing and even Hoppy herself seems to be quite pleased.

We took a little family trip to Whole Earth Provision today. The husband got a tiny little freakishly bright flashlight, and I got a new pair of shoes. I might even lay to rest the 5 year old red Dansko clogs that I wear pretty much every day. Don't think this means I won't still be tempted to bust out with a little clogging, though.

Radiant beams from Thy holy face

This morning I decided to add a little structure to the drawing space on the coffee table and suggested Harper might want to practice writing her name. She agreed enthusiastically. So, I said, help me spell it out. She writes an 'L' facing the wrong way. Then she starts on the 'I'. But we're going to write your name, I reminded her. Yes, she sighed patiently, I'm spelling Lightning. I tried to convince her that Harper was much easier to write AND that it contained absolutely no sneaky silent letters. But she insisted. So I wrote both names down and took Hudson for a diaper change and when we got back in the room, this is what she had accomplished:

Harper had been scratched through, Lightning had been underlined in red, and a happy little balloon man was celebrating. No actual letters had been practiced.

We went to the Museum of Natural Science on Wednesday. The butterfly atrium really is wonderful. Here are the girls marveling. Abby is showing amazing gentleness and restraint for a 2 year old. Hudson was off splashing in a puddle. Izzy and Harper had worn their brightest dresses in hopes that many butterflies would alight upon them. Today I dug through bins and washed some tiny baby clothes so that Helena will have something to wear if she decides to come early. Harper spent lots of time choosing things for her puppy to wear. Hudson spends lots of time doing this:

Boy loves his thumb and his blanket. They used to be confined to the crib but he's been needing additional solace, apparently. Perhaps he's figuring it all out.

Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel

Is, of course, technically not a Christmas carol. But I saw a billboard for, I am NOT making this up, "Chanukah on Ice" yesterday and I figured the saturation must be complete. So I was actually already in bed because I am utterly exhausted from a day that involved an embarrassing amount of me on the couch while the kids watched PBS and DVDs, but even in my weariness, sleep eludes. Then I remembered the day had been blog-free. Better to be productive than lying in bed all achy and wild eyed. I'll fill out Mr. B's little Christmas questionnaire. Which for you might not be any better than insomnia. Here we go:

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? wrapping, even though I am terrible at it and can never manage to cut the correct amount of paper.
2. Real tree or Artificial? I like real but we have a small artificial one. Our first tree as a married couple, as I mentioned in another post. Growing up we had some real years and some artificial.
3. When do you put up the tree? This year it was purchased and assembled before Thanksgiving, I think.
4. When do you take the tree down? We'll probably leave it up for awhile. Maybe until the baby comes.
5. Do you like eggnog? You know, I do. If I don't think too much about the egg part. I pretend it's runny pudding.
6. Favorite gift received as a child? This one is hard. I have very idyllic memories of Christmas mornings in front of the fireplace, but I can't really remember specific gifts. I had these two dolls I loved named Mandy and Jenny, but they might have been birthday gifts. I got a wooden doll house one year that I loved buying furniture for.
7. Hardest person to buy for? My mom, probably, because she deserves everything and wants nothing
8. Easiest person to buy for? the husband. A variety of things please him. But we really don't do gifts for each other.
9. Do you have a nativity scene? Yes. It's these little clay figurines that I think came from Peru. They came into the marriage with the husband.
10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Mail, but this year is in doubt.
11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? I just in general don't like getting presents so this is a weird question for me. I am always touched when people try, it's just awkward for me.
12. Favorite Christmas Movie? Hm. I can't think of one so I'll steal Jamie's answer--"Little Women"
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? too late, every single year. Because the whole thing is unpleasant.
14. Have you ever re-gifted a Christmas present? No
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Peppermint bark, cookies,
16. Lights on the tree? Yes, white, simple.
17. Favorite Christmas song? Once in Royal David's City, Hark the Herald Angels Sing (because it's the first Christmas carol Harper learned to sing) and Angels We Have Heard on High (because Hudson just learned to sing the Gloria's this week and it is unspeakably cute)
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? home, then maybe a little travel
19. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer? Dasher and Dancer and Comet and Blitzen, Rudolph, Prancer, Cupid?, Donner?

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? We have a bow-ish kind of thing

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? morning
22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? presents
23. Favorite ornament theme or color? I have some painted eggs that I got when I lived in Hungary that I think are really pretty
24. Favorite for Christmas dinner? I like the sweet potato thing my mom makes that is covered in pecans and brown sugar.
25. What do you want for Christmas this year? A free afternoon one Saturday each month to go see a movie or read a book or take a walk sans my little people. I'd also love a weekend away with the husband, but chances are slim that will happen before, oh, 2024.

God rest ye..

Merry and Kathy and Brenda and Laura and Wendy and Priscilla. These are the lovely, wise ladies in my Bible study group. Last night they not only provided me with a wonderful evening of scintillating conversation around a beautifully set table replete with delicious food, but those rapscallions actually turned a secret Santa exchange into an excuse to shower me with diapers and other gifts for our coming child. It was all very sneaky and hilarious. They had me convinced that I had missed the email about the secret Santa business and while I was in the bathroom contemplating how much of a heel I was going to feel like as they all exchanged their scented candles and giant Toblerones, they waited with their cameras and their enormous bounty of diapers for me to emerge. It was like an extremely generous pack of paparazzi. It was splendid. I feel blessed beyond measure to know each of them.

Who mourn in lonely exile here

Clearly I've moved on from titles to lyrics. Sorry Mrs. Littlefield. We met a British family yesterday who are in Houston for a few weeks to visit some of the churches who support their work with Mission Aviation Fellowship in Uganda. There's nothing like a conversation about the turmoil in Africa to make you thankful for the stability (political and otherwise) that we have here. And Uganda is actually one of the more stable African countries, comparatively speaking. The mother, Emma, told me that many Ugandans were amazed at how peaceful the American presidential election was. They were astonished that John McCain graciously accepted defeat and the country just moved on. In most African elections there is significant bloodshed before, during, and after elections, and there is rarely anything remotely resembling legitimacy when it comes to outcomes. How debilitating that must feel to be caught in that futility. If only there were easy solutions and not just the same seemingly intractable problems. Why don't we all get right on that.

I'm about to make some peppermint brownies and ginger cookies for a Christmas gathering with my Bible study ladies tonight. Absolutely no lonely exile when I'm with that group. Though we've had a fair amount of mourning.

to ransom captive Israel

Well, I went and ruined my perfect attendance at the December Blog Challenge. It is really hard to blog every day. On our way to church we pass a new strip mall and most of the upper floor is taken up with a Krav Maga studio. Do you know what that means? It's the specialized form of self defense utilized by the Israeli army. And, apparently, the next new exercise craze. So put away your gentle pilates and your yoga mat and get ready to beat up on somebody. I find it kind of intriguing. Perhaps when I am no longer great with child I'll go try it out. I was in Israel for a couple of weeks back in the late 90's and I have to say that those Israeli soldiers did make me feel oddly safe. Though it could've been more about the AK-47 they had casually flung across their backs than any mastery of Krav Maga they possessed. It was odd seeing these 18 year old boys and girls in their Abercrombie and Fitch (or whatever the hip, Middle Eastern equivalent was) just waiting in line at the kosher McDonalds with this enormous weapon at the ready. I had my first falafel in Israel. And pita and hummus. Plus, you know, walked in the footsteps of Jesus and stuff. I wonder what Jesus would think about Krav Maga.

What Child is This

We were out for a little walk and Harper walked over to some stairs, sat on the bottom one, and attempted a forlorn expression.
me: What are you doing, Harper?
she: I'm not Harper. I'm another little girl just sitting on the steps waiting for my Mommy to get home from work.
Ah, yes. That green, green grass on the other side of the fence.

When I went to get Hudson up from his nap this afternoon he was all smiley and he proclaimed, with exuberance, "PUPPIES!" then, "DADDY!" which about sums up the two joys of his life these days.

Do you think it's unrealistic of me to think that the kids will use the play kitchen they are getting for Christmas to actually begin preparing their own food?

Waltz of the Sugarplum Fairy

I couldn't think of another Christmas song about food. I just brought home and indulged in some Haagen Dazs Limited Edition Peppermint Bark ice cream. Oh, my. We already had peppermint Bluebell in the freezer but this is far, far superior. Although I'm now chilled. Would it be wrong to have hot chocolate after ice cream?

Tender Tennessee Christmas

Is a Christmas song that should have stayed in Amy Grant's living room, where I'm assuming it originated. It's just silly. Two different radio stations in Houston are playing all Christmas music, all the time, and this means every vanity Christmas song ever written gets airplay. I don't like songs that try to speculate about how Joseph or Mary or Jesus or the sheep or the manger might have felt about the whole God intersecting time and space thing. Unless your name is Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John, AND you were divinely inspired 2,000 years ago, keep your musings in your journal and don't try to set them to a jazzy beat.

For the third time in 4 1/2 years of marriage, we again have a baby crib in our bedroom. There isn't room in the closet this time. The husband is a magician when it comes to arranging furniture.

For the first time in 4 1/2 years of marriage, we have a Christmas tree. It's little and has white lights. The ornamentation is a work in progress. I find myself greatly inspired by the Jesse Tree over at Chrys and Mike's blog. A project for next year, hopefully.

Here is the baby boy, who has no idea what that nice, expanding perch on my tummy is going to mean for him in seven weeks.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

It is indeed snowing just a tiny bit in Houston. Snow showers, they call it. We have our heater on for only the second time. I do not like using the heater because I don't like how artificial and dry it makes the air seem. I also don't particularly like air conditioning because I think it's unnatural and uncomfortable to be so cold inside when it's so hot outside. I realize this makes me very odd. It's also meant big marriage compromises because men seem to prefer the air to be around 58 degrees Fahrenheit inside when it is hot outside.

Harper has always been very attentive to her stuffed dog, whose name started out as Wadsworth and who has since been renamed, and this list is in no way definitive: Jeff, Joshua, Toby, Millie, Sasha, Maddie, Chanel, Hank, Dada, Gracie, Levi, and today, Mimi. Jeff was in homage to her then-favorite Wiggle (the Wiggles fell very far out of her favor around 18 months ago when she got terribly frightened by the pirate, Captain Feathersword), Joshua was the husband's beloved childhood dog, and the others are dogs we meet out and about that particularly strike her fancy. Her attentions have become increasingly maternal (some might use the word 'smothering') the past month or so. She also hasn't mentioned the puppy in her tummy in awhile which might mean that she has actually given imaginary birth after an extremely uneventful labor. Today Mimi is diapered, pajama-ed (these were stolen from the poor Cabbage Patch baby who is tragically neglected), bootied, pantied, and, after I found it in the bottom of the laundry basket, encased in the little knit hat that was on Harper's head when she got back to me from her first bath at the hospital. When I was tucking her in just now, the hat slipped off and Harper asked if I could fix it. I tried just perching it on top of Mimi's ears but Harper insisted that it be pulled down to entirely cover her face. She looks kind of like a hostage. Or a bank robbing dog in a baby disguise.

The Friendly Beasts

Hudson noticed that he had not been featured in a long while. His hair grows increasingly fluffy. We have a new computer and while it is so fast and efficient it makes me almost dizzy, it changed the way I find pictures and we all know that Learning New Computer Skills is not a strength of mine. Along with his tricycle attempts, Hudson has also developed a deep and almost primal need. To Dance. Christmas carols, the Nutcracker, the theme song to "Blue's Clues", Daddy on the guitar--he finds them all irresistible. He takes it extremely seriously. His particular choreography involves very deep knee bending, stomping, an occasional stomp/spin combination move and a grimace. He would prefer that you not watch him and if he catches you enjoying his stylings, he will push out his bottom lip, take a final, almost careless stomp, and cease.

Yesterday morning I looked at my two kids enjoying breakfast in their footy pajamas and it seems as though it is all a dream, this sweet life.

Today we went to visit the horses at the Houston Police Department stables. They were a lively bunch and Mrs. B and I made the decision that the carrots and apples we brought were best handed to the friendly beasts via our hands and not the four other eager sets of tiny hands we had brought along. We assured the kids that tossing carrots into the corral and putting pieces of apple into the feeding buckets was equally as fun as having the horses snatch them directly from their hands. Harper decided on the way home that when she gets to be six she will be able to hold her fingers still even if there is a horse tickling her palm with his big horsey mouth.

Go, Tell It On the Mountain!

Well, the December Blog Challenge, Revised, has begun. The goal is to blog every day for the next two weeks and use Christmas carol titles for each post.

We seemed to have settled on a name over the weekend:

She will be called Helena Jane and we will pronounce it HuhLAYnuh and probably call her Lanie. We will not be dismayed if it gets pronounced HELL-in-uh (I think that's how my friends in England might say it) or Huh-LEE-nuh, which is apparently how it gets pronounced in Nederland, Texas, according to my mother. So, there. She is getting an H after all.

Harper got an actual Big Girl Bed at Ikea this weekend. She is thrilled. We got some really cute (and cheap) bedding as well. Sheets, duvet cover AND duvet all for around $40. Take that Pottery Barn Kids. Ikea has figured very prominently in our design scheme since we moved to Houston 4 years ago and have lived on one salary. Though I'm pretty sure we'd still shop there even if we could buy expensive things. The thought of heavy, expensive furniture has always stressed me out. It seems restrictive somehow. As though if you decided to up and move to Argentina or Alberta or Albania it would just be so cumbersome and back-breaking to transplant. I knew this girl Caroline at A&M and when she packed up her dorm room to go home at the end of each semester, if there was stuff she couldn't fit into her tiny car, she would give it away, reasoning that if it wouldn't fit, she probably didn't need it. That's just good. I wonder what she'd say if she could see our minivan packed for just a few days at my parents' house.

Ten for Tuesday

I stole this from Robin. There are probably rules of which I'm not aware, but my version is just going to be a list of ten things that pass as an actual post.

1. It's beautiful weather here in Houston today--clear and coldish and autumnal.
2. I'm supposed to be going to the doctor every two weeks now and I find this very vexing.
3. Because each appointment takes around 2 hours, some of which is travel time and parking time, and some of which is spent waiting to be asked the same pleasant questions they asked at the last appointment. To which my answer is always no. I am, however, exceedingly thankful for uncomplicated pregnancies. I just think I should be allowed, in spite of my Advanced Maternal Age, to go to the doctor only when there is an actual need. When one is in active labor, for example.
4. I read a novel titled Home while at my parents' for Thanksgiving. If you ever think about writing your very own novel, Marilynne Robinson will either inspire you to be better at it, or, as is probably the case with me, her writing will convince you that if it's already being done this well, why sully it up with your own paltry effort.
5. On that note of self-pity, I have just received in the post a series of lectures from The Teaching Company titled, "Building Great Sentences: Exploring the Writer's Craft." A fellow named Brooks Landon, who teaches (with Marilynne Robinson, incidentally) at the the University of Iowa's famed writing workshop is going to lecture me on things like The Riddle of Prose Rhythm and Prefab Patterns for Suspense. I'm extremely excited to start.
6. This afternoon, the Daddy accompanied us to the park, to our delight, and on the way home Harper exclaimed, "Daddy, I found an idea!" which I thought was a pretty cute take on the more conventional having of ideas. Perhaps she's already watched Prefab Patterns for Suspense. The idea she found had to do with officially changing her name to Lightning Harper Anne.
7. The baby still has no name, though not from lack of input. Some people seem to feel we started the alliteration business and we should persevere lest #3 feel left out. Because clearly having names that start with H has bonded Harper to Hudson in a way she never would have experienced otherwise.
8. Your child can listen to Tchaikovsky for weeks and weeks and still tell you, that actually, her favorite song in the world is "I Was Made To Love You" by Toby Mac, Christian rapper. No offense to Mr. Mac, whose song she has heard maybe twice on the radio, and is indeed snazzy, but it's like that post I wrote last year about how you can take your kid to the Louvre and whatever, but they'd still rather look at the inflatable Frosty the Snowman snowglobe in the yard down the street.
9. I watched "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" last week. For a movie about a guy who has a stroke at 42 and is utterly paralyzed and able to communicate by flickering his one unaffected eyelid, it is oddly uplifting. I think it's just good to get a vivid reminder to be daily and deeply thankful for bodies that are whole and work as they should.
10. On Monday I shall again embark on Jamie's December Blog Challenge, Abridged.