I might have a baby in the month of July.
“Might” being the key word of course. His official due date based on the dating ultrasound is the 1st of August. Rosie and Ada were both born at 39 weeks, but watch this little guy fake me out and make me wait until 42 weeks or something. That would continue the trend of this being the longest pregnancy ever.
I’m hoping for July 27 or 28. Rosie’s due date was July 27th. The baby I miscarried at 12 weeks (before Ada) was due around the same date also. It’s only fitting that Baby H should arrive then, right? Time will tell! Waiting to find out when the baby will be born is hard. So much anticipation!
I’m so done with being exhausted and nauseated. The acid reflux is unreal, it’s actually extremely painful at the base of my throat and nothing helps it. I’m done with this pregnancy fat suit, I need normal mobility back!
I’m ready to hold a squishy baby. I’m ready for him to be here, safe and alive on the outside. I want to see his face, kiss his cheeks, and get to know his personality. I want to dress him in cute baby boy clothes and sniff the top of his baby soft head.
But for now we wait a few more weeks. Patiently. (Hah.)
Every morning I wake up and I think, “Oh my gosh I really live here!”
I’m so blessed to live in this funky little cabin at the end of a gravel road, nestled deep between two big ridges.
This is what I stare at every time I look out of my kitchen window.
(Storm rolling in last night. Flattened my tomato plants with 60 mph winds.)
It’s like someone’s life on those blogs you always read where you think that you’re life would never be that perfect. I mean my life isn’t perfect, obviously, but my kids really do get up in the morning and eat fresh food from our own land then run outside to play in the woods barefoot for hours. It’s not even like one snippet of my life, as if they just do this sometimes and I blog about it. They do it every single day with great pleasure and excitement.
We don’t have TV. My kids don’t watch TV. Really! We have DVD’s they can watch, but they mostly refuse to do so even when I beg them to just sit down and stare at a screen so their pregnant mama can rest. Before moving here I never thought we could be TV free because it was such a necessary part of life–there wasn’t that much else to do, TV was an important part of the day.
They used to watch TV while eating breakfast. This morning they ate breakfast on our huge porch while watching two rabbits chase each other and mate in the field. Seriously.
It’s just so different from where we used to live. The entire lifestyle is different without even really trying. It was a struggle to have chickens in town, to make sure the kids played outside enough, and to get them to not beg for TV. Here it just seems to happen, all of these things fall into place without a fight. I love it. It’s just so right.
(Male Io moth, from the same family as the Luna moth.)
We sit on the porch in the evening in rocking chairs. For real. Even in the rain, because our porch is so huge it doesn’t rain on it except during the worst of storms. And even when it does rain here–which seems to be often–it’s rain on a tin roof. It’s like therapy.
The horses that live next door run up and down the fence line playing with each other, their hooves thundering on the ground. They whinny and snort playfully. My roosters crow to the neighbor’s roosters out of sight in the distance, the sound echoing over the hills. Cows up on the ridge top moo frantically and we can see the farmer dropping a big rolled bale of hay in their pasture.
At 8:30 most nights we walk five minutes up the road to the neighbor’s house and feed her fish in the big koi and catfish pond, stopping along the way to visit goats, other chickens, more horses, guineas, and chat with whatever neighbors happen to be out in their gardens.
The catfish and koi in Ms. Sarah’s pond are huge. After we feed them 1/2 of a flower pot full of food we take a walk on the mowed path around the pond. By then it’s getting dark out and we walk slowly home catching fire flies along the way. When we get back to the cabin we lock up the chickens and ducks for the night, collect any remaining eggs, and catch the toads and moths that come out after dark. Then we come inside and clean up for bed. The girls play with a few toys while I wash off the eggs and straighten up the kitchen. After that Rosie reads books and Ada nurses to sleep while Baby H kicks away inside of me.
It just seems to surreal to live this way.
The only thing missing is my husband.
Rosie was never very interested in riding her bike at the old house, but now she suddenly wants to ride it without training wheels.
She watches the neighbor’s teenage sons ride their dirt bikes off of the big hill across our gravel road. She’s very impressed.
She’s ready to have adventures on her own bike. With a cow girl hat on.
Ada rides her bike too, of course.
Ada is not impressed with Rosie’s bike, however.
This is what Ada thinks of riding on Rosie’s bike!