paper addiction

I've long suspected that he had a problem, but I didn't fully realize just how severe it was until the other night when Garrett placed a pretend, albeit very business-like, phone call on a homemade paper phone. He read off a few numbers, thanked whoever was on the other end for his time, then hung up with an audible click.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"The Stack of Paper Man," he replied most matter-of-factly. "I need more stacks of paper."

"Stacks of paper" in this instance meant Post-It notes, but it also, and usually more frequently, refers to 8.5 x 11" white printer paper, which he goes through in the most extravagant manner.

He doesn't use the paper to draw or color, except for the occasional note painstakingly written in pencil using the only letters and symbols he's able to confidently and independently reproduce. ("I H O A T E C $," they typically say, in a variety of different constructions.) Also employed less frequently are the safety scissors, used to cut the paper into teeny tiny bits, which often become "food" for his stuffed dog.

No, Garrett's preferred use of our household "stacks of paper" is to roll them into telescopes, then crumple them carefully to pinch them closed. From there they become anything and everything: construction vehicles, airplanes, train tracks, tool sets, chopsticks, swords and hooks (a la Peter Pan), hiking sticks, brooms, water hoses -- you name it.



By the end of the day, our small apartment is littered with his rolled up paper creations, nearly all of which end up in our paper recycling basket when it's finally time to clean up. We seriously go through paper faster than a copy machine.



So my child has a paper addiction, and the fact that during his bedtime prayers on the night he called the Stack of Paper Man, he prayed that his paper order would come soon only confirms it. Anyone know of a rehab center?

(By the way, his prayers were answered this morning when we made a trip to Staples for another ream of paper. He set to work devouring this new stack as soon as we got home.)

yo-yo

Remember those yo-yos I mentioned that I was mass producing? Well, the projects they were intended for are finished now. Would you like to see?

The first was a throw pillow for our bed. I made yo-yos in three different sizes using leftover fabric scraps from the wedding quilt my Aunt Colleen made us (I knew I hung onto them for a reason!) and which spends its days draped over the foot of our bed. My sewing skills must have improved since the last time I made a pillow cover because this one has both a flap that completely overlaps in the back and it's not sewn crooked. I'm really, really pleased with the way it turned out (and so, incidentally, is Garrett; he loves to climb on my bed and snuggle into the "yo-yo piwwow").



The second project was to cover an ugly logo on a free canvas bag Blake brought home from work. The purpose of this project was not only to make the bag prettier (and thus something I'd want to be seen toting around) but also to expand my sewing skills, particularly in the arenas of using iron-on adhesives and basic embroidery. It was my first time using Heat n' Bond, which I used to apply the base fabric. In addition to some basic stitches around the perimeter, I used the back stitch to embroider the leaves for the yo-yo flowers. I learned that it's no simple task to sew directly onto an already made bag, but I managed and am pleased for the most part with the end result. It definitely looks better than how it did before.



And now I'm addicted to making yo-yos and am seriously considering making a coverlet out of them. That'd be a pretty major endeavor, but one, I've realized, that can easily be worked on while sitting on the couch or waiting at the doctor's office. So we'll see. The next big sewing project on my list is to make this baby a quilt. His older brothers both got one, and I'd hate to leave him out.

30 rocks

Yesterday I celebrated my 30th birthday, an event which turned out to be about as anticlimactic as my feelings about this milestone are. Honestly, I'm relieved to have officially reached this new stage of adulthood because a part of me feels like I turned 30 a few years ago (I think there's something about your husband being called to serve as bishop while you're both still in your 20s that will do that to a girl). It's nice to know that my birth certificate finally matches my responsibilities and accomplishments.

Overall it was a pretty normal day, though there were a few exceptions, the biggest of which (and by "biggest," I mean "most exhausting") was a dentist appointment for the boys. It was Caleb's first, and you can be sure that he made a desperate attempt to run for it as soon as it was his turn. I was able to catch up with him just before he reached the sidewalk outside the office. He survived, however -- we all did -- and he managed even to escape the chair with professional permission to continue sucking his fingers for at least a little while longer.

Blake came home a little early and on his way picked up my request for dinner from my favorite local Chinese take-out joint, which not only satisfied my craving for their awesome egg rolls and pork fried rice, but seemed an appropriate way to simultaneously celebrate the Chinese New Year. He also swung by Coldstone for an ice cream cake (a tradition apparently first established by his dad on his mom's birthdays). The evening was spent feasting after which I went to put my feet up while he washed the dishes. It was perfect.

It was a nice day, with low-key celebrations, which suited me just fine. And now I can officially be a 30-year-old instead of just masquerading as one, an achievement which truly makes 30 rock.

chocolat chaud

In the winter months everyone at our house can typically be found devouring hot chocolate. At breakfast, after playing in the snow, in the middle of an afternoon spent without sufficiently heating radiators, you name it: anytime is a great time to drink a mug of steaming hot chocolate. We like to stir in crushed candy canes and top them with marshmallows, and the boys like to drink theirs through a straw, but even without those additions, it's still a delicious and warmly satisfying treat.

I've long been tired of forking over the money to feed our habit, especially when my local grocery store doesn't sell it in bulk (they only stock the small, overpriced boxes of single serving Swiss Miss packets and their nasty store-brand equivalent). I never thought to try making it myself, but this year recipes for different homemade powdered hot chocolates started showing up on the recipe blogs I visit. None of them looked difficult to make, so I thought, well, why not?

I tried three different recipes. The first was far inferior, so I'm not even going to share it here. The second was really good, but the third was heavenly. Both are posted below because both have different components that I liked. The chocolate pudding in the second recipe was a tasty idea that thickened it up in just the right way. And the white chocolate chips in the third recipe added a rich creaminess that is divine.

So without further ado, here are the two homemade powdered hot chocolate recipes you'll find us enjoying at our house.


Homemade Hot Cocoa Mix
(a.k.a. The One with Chocolate Pudding)
original recipe source

4 cups nonfat dry milk powder
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 cup non-dairy powdered coffee creamer (Next time I might try a flavored one. Because hazelnut hot chocolate? Yes, please!)
2/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 (4 oz) package instant chocolate pudding

Place all ingredients together in a large bowl and whisk until well combined. Store in an airtight container. To prepare a cup of hot cocoa: add 1/3 cup of mix to 8 oz of hot water. Stir until well blended.


The Best Homemade Hot Chocolate Mix
(a.k.a. The One with White Chocolate Chips)
original recipe source

3 cups nonfat dry milk powder
2 cups powdered sugar
1 1/2 cups cocoa powder
1 1/2 cups white chocolate chips
1/4 tsp salt

Whisk together all ingredients in a large bowl. Working in small batches, pulse the ingredients in a food processor until the chocolate is finely ground. Store the dry mix in an airtight container for up to three months. To prepare a cup of hot cocoa: put 1/3 cup powdered mix in a mug and stir in 1 cup of hot milk or water.

snow day

This morning we woke up to the first snow of winter. (The freak snow-bearing nor'easter we got just before Halloween doesn't count because, hello, that bizarre storm clearly happened in the fall.) Last night, after catching the weather report on the news, Garrett ran to me shouting, "Mom! The weatherman said it's going to snow!" And this morning, after looking out the window, Caleb called out, "Mom! It no-ning!"

I got enough snow last winter to last me for the rest of my life, but the boys were thrilled to finally have a chance to go outside and try to build a snowman (not that there was enough snow, nor was it wet enough, but that is beside the point). As soon as they were dressed, we headed outside.

Brushing snow off our car. Isn't she beautiful?

Garrett gathering snow in preparation to build a snowman.

Caleb gathering snow in preparation for war.

Snowball fight!

Later in the afternoon we drove in our car first to buy a sled and then to a local park to use it (something we wouldn't have otherwise done had we not had four wheels of our very own). It was the boys' first time sledding, and, after Garrett decided that riding solo just wasn't worth the terror it aroused, he had a great time. Caleb, who isn't one for thrills of any kind, warmed up to idea by watching Garrett; he, too, eventually decided that sledding was a heck of a lot of fun. After taking several turns each riding down the big hill (with Dad both steering and braking), they enjoyed a few turns riding together down a smaller hill.

The sledding hill at Owl's Head Park. It doesn't look very steep, but even a gradual incline provides some great speed.

Ready for his first ride down. He looks happy now, but that smile sure disappeared fast as soon as he'd gathered speed.

Thrilled to have survived his first ride (and crash).

Turns out sledding is a lot more fun when you're not riding by yourself.

Caleb's turn.

Walking back up the hill.

Garrett and Caleb riding down together.

Sledding is fun!

weird logic

Fact: Both Garrett and Caleb were born a little more than two weeks before their due dates.

Fact: None of my babies arrived in the month they were predicted to.

Fact: Garrett was born on a Saturday; Caleb came on a Sunday.

Fact: All of the important dates in our family occur on either the 23rd or the 30th of their respective months. We were married on April 23rd; Blake's birthday is December 30th; mine is January 23rd; Garrett's is June 30th; and Caleb's is August 23rd. Note, too, that the birthdays alternate between the two dates in order descending from the oldest in the family to the youngest.


Taking all of these things into consideration leads me to an oddly logical conclusion that, even though my due date is May 22nd, this baby will arrive on April 30th.

• April 30th is, granted, three weeks before my due date, but if you recall, Caleb was almost born 4 weeks early.
  
  
• April is not the month for this baby's predicted arrival.
  
  
• April 30th is a Monday, which follows the daily birth pattern established by my first two.
  

• April 30th fits the important date pattern (both for dates and the way in which they alternate) that we've seen thus far in our family.

Also, according to my most recent ultrasound, the baby is still measuring more than a week bigger than his gestational age. And, according to the way I feel and the photographic proof below, I'm measuring bigger than I did at this point in either of my other two pregnancies. Both could be interpreted as steps in the direction of April 30th.

22 weeks

So call it weird logic, call it an exercise in futility, but April 30th is my official guess (hope?) as to when we'll meet this baby.


*Note: All of my birth date guesses in the past, oddly logical or not, have been consistently incorrect. I'm sure this one will be no exception. But it's still fun to try, and, given the weird logic, April 30th would be an awesome day to have this baby.

staycation

Since yesterday Blake and Garrett have been power driving across the country, and they're scheduled to arrive home sometime in the middle of the night. Judging by the reports I've heard of their quick visit to Texas, it sounds like they've had a great time visiting branches of the family and doing a little sightseeing. But just because we had to stay behind doesn't mean that Caleb and I didn't have a little fun of our own. Here are a few of the highlights of our staycation.

• Playgroup. We hosted it at our house, and Caleb was one of the older ones there. Because the age demographics were a little more even and the kids who usually argue with other kids over this and that (ahem...Garrett), it made for one of the calmest indoor playgroups I've attended in a long time.
• Chocolate peanut butter brownie bites. I found the recipe on Pinterest, whipped up a batch, and proceeded to eat way too many. But oh, they were good (though they did taste a little better the second day).
• The Brooklyn Children's Museum. Though Caleb enjoyed the whole visit, especially the part where he didn't have to always do what his bossy big brother wanted to do, his favorite things were the admission stamp on his hand (his "paw print") and a random pencil sharpener at a coloring exhibit (he spent, no joke, thirty minutes trying to sharpen pencils; I literally had to drag him away).
• Target. For the first time in, oh, forever, we weren't rushed. Going to Target is always a more pleasant experience when you're not in a hurry.
• Downton Abbey. And lots of it. Whitney came over to jump on the bandwagon by watching some of the first season with me. And then, of course, I tuned in to PBS on Sunday night to watch the second episode of the second season.
• Sewing. I'm currently mass producing yo-yos for a few projects.
• Sleeping in. It's been really nice not having to get Garrett up and ready for school every morning.
• Spending lots of time with Christy. Watching movies, Sunday dinner at her place ("Christy's house" is one of Caleb's favorite places these days), and making a batch of authentic New York black and white cookies.
  
  
  
  
• Easy dinners. It's been really nice not having to plan meals that all four members of my family are happy about. One night, when I asked Caleb what he wanted to eat, he replied with, "Bee cereal!" And so we ate Honey Nut Cheerios for dinner. Awesome.
• Updates from the boys on the road. I missed Garrett terribly, but I loved talking to him on the phone. Hearing his excited "Hi Mommy!" brightened my days. Also, my mother-in-law, Joyce, would occasionally email pictures of their adventures from her phone. It really does look like he was having a great time.
  
  
  
• Bonding time with Caleb. This has been awesome. Caleb doesn't get to live outside his brother's shadow very often, and as a result some really delightful parts of his personality get a little smothered. Our one-on-one time has been sweet, informative, and often quite hilarious. Like the time when we were walking home from the bus after church and Caleb suddenly said, "Uh-oh! My pants!" I look down at him and, lo and behold, his belted pants had somehow fallen down to his ankles. We both found the incident pretty funny, and a few minutes later, as we were walking up the stairs to our apartment, Caleb reminded me (as if I could have forgotten), "My pants fall down! So silly!"
  

Despite the fun Caleb and I have had on our little staycation, I am ready to have my house filled again. I've missed my other half and my happy boy who rarely stops talking. It will be good to have them home.

car talk

This morning Caleb and I made our last trek to church by city bus. Hallelujah! (It would have been more bittersweet if it hadn't been so bitterly cold.) By this time next Sunday, Blake and Garrett will have returned with our car, and we'll be able to take a faster and more direct route to church each week, which I don't even think I need to mention will make my life a lot easier.

Even so, I have mixed feelings about owning and driving a car again. If we lived in any other city, I know I'd be more excited, but in Brooklyn, car ownership comes with a lot of baggage, which is one big reason why we've lived as pedestrians for so long. What kind of baggage, you ask? Well, things topping my list right now include:

• Parallel street parking. I need to re-learn how to do this.
  
• The hassle. First you have to find a parking spot, which I'm told can sometimes take awhile, and then you have to keep moving your car around for the alternate side street cleaning regulations.
  
• The expense. New York City has one of the highest auto insurance rates in the country, and Brooklyn is the most expensive of the five boroughs. Not to mention the cost of gas, maintenance, and the car loan itself.
  
• Parking tickets. Not that we're planning to get any, but in a city where private driveways and parking lots are nearly non-existent, it's kind of something you have to just assume will happen eventually.
• City driving in general. The roads are narrow and mostly one-way, everyone stops suddenly and double parks, drivers are extra aggressive, and even with the GPS we have, I'm sure we'll get lost in this maze of a million streets.

With the exception of the occasional vacation, it's been 4 1/2 years since I've been behind the wheel, and I'm a little nervous to be starting again here. This is a city of pedestrians, and over the years I've learned how to be a really awesome pedestrian -- the kind who has developed a distaste for the attitudes of most drivers. It will, in more ways than one, be a huge adjustment for me, especially at the beginning. I fully plan to take baby steps; I'm sure I'll branch out more eventually, but, since most of the affairs of my daily life can be conducted within a few blocks of our apartment, the only place I plan to drive myself at first is to the church and back. And I fully intend to never drive into Manhattan. Just because we'll own a car doesn't mean we'll abandon public transportation altogether.

But all my hesitancy aside, I know that having a car again will be good. It's a step forward (if also a bit of a leap of faith), and one that it was time for us to take. And as this pregnancy continues to develop, it will be nice to have an easier and more comfortable way of getting my growing family around and, when it comes time, to the hospital to deliver.

Now, except for a few photos, I haven't seen our new car yet, but Blake tells me that it drives beautifully. It's a 2004 Honda Pilot that we found online at a dealership in San Antonio, near his parent's home. His dad and brother test drove it for us and gave us the thumbs up, but we (and be "we" I completely and totally mean "Blake"; purchasing this car has been almost solely his project) conducted all the business of purchasing it ourselves.

We chose a Honda Pilot for several reasons, the biggest of which was that it would fit a growing family. Initially we just wanted a small car that we could fit three car seats in the back row of, but we quickly realized that not only was that a difficult task, but we also didn't want to go through the hassle of buying a car again the next time I'm pregnant. Blake wanted something with four wheel drive to help us get through the winters, which pretty much ruled out a minivan. So in the end we were looking for an SUV with a fold-down third row. Of all the cars we researched and test drove, the Pilot was by far superior.

Buying a car out of state certainly hasn't been the most convenient way to go about things, but in some ways it's actually been easier. I don't know how many of you have tried, but it's difficult to buy a car without a car. Our initial search was limited to dealerships near us, and they, because space is at a premium, only kept newer cars on their lots. Our budget required that we get something a little older and we just weren't able to find that here. Once we expanded our search to places near where family could step in and help a little with some of the legwork, our options opened up considerably. In the end, going this route has also been cheaper, even when including the travel expenses to get it here. Not only were we able to find a car in our budget, but the fees that get tacked onto the sale were thousands less than they would have been here. Also, it turns out that used car salesmen in Texas are a lot less slimy than used car salesmen in New York.

So here's to finally having a place other than our entryway closet to store all the car seats we've collected over the years. Here's to family road trips and an easier way to escape to places outside the city. Here's to car payments, maintenance, high gas prices, and -- um...on second thought...

But seriously, here's to having a car again.

homesick

If plane tickets were cheaper, and we weren't so overwhelmed by the expenses of purchasing a car, I'd be here today:


I am, if you recall, one of Zippy's (and by extension, Haven Kimmel's) biggest fans, which made it even harder to have to turn down my mom's request to attend with her. I did, however, mail my copies of the Zippy books to her to see if she can get them signed, and I'm looking forward to hearing every tiny detail about the event. But it won't be the same as being there in person. (Or actually with my mom, for that matter.)

In the meantime I can try to appease my present desire to be at home in Provo by soaking up (in 30-second increments) the Ski Utah ad campaign currently hogging the airwaves here in New York City (despite the fact that it's hardly snowed at all there this season). Caleb sure is. It's his favorite commercial. Every time it airs, he drops whatever he's doing and stands directly in front of the TV so as to be as focused as possible while he watches.

a phone call between novices

Blake and Garrett are currently en route to San Antonio, where they will spend a few days with grandparents before driving our new car home to Brooklyn. Garrett has been eagerly anticipating this trip. I've never seen someone so excited to "fly a plane to Grandma's house" -- or so thrilled to get out of bed at 3:30 in the morning to head to the airport.

During a brief layover in Atlanta, Blake called to say hi. A few minutes into the conversation, he handed the phone over to Garrett, who, following my instructions to be sure to talk to Mom on the phone while he was gone, wanted to tell me all about the flight. Here on my end, Caleb, who was sitting next to me at the time, got jealous and wanted some phone time, too. So I told Garrett that Caleb wanted to talk to him and that I was handing the phone over to him. Garrett happily obliged. The following is pretty much how their conversation evolved.

Caleb: (Looking at the phone, trying to "see" Garrett.)

Garrett: Cay-bo? Hi Cay-bo!

Caleb: Dahrett! (To me) Mommy! It's Dahrett!

Garrett: (Narrating his observations of the tarmac from the window near their gate.) Oh! The airpwane is moving really faster! Five airpwanes moving really faster, Cay-bo!

Caleb: (Narrating his actions as he tucked his baby doll under his blanket.) My bee-bee and my bandie!

Garrett: This pwane going really faster -- up the skwy! Wow. It going really faster!

Caleb: (Checking the phone again to try to "see" Garrett.)

Garrett: Wow! That pwane fwying up the skwy going really faster!

Caleb: (Laughing.)

Garrett: (To Blake) Dad! Look that pwane!

There is a brief shuffling as Blake apparently takes the phone back.

Caleb: (To me) Daddy!

I take that as my cue to take my phone back as well.

***

After all strands of phone conversations were over, I asked Caleb if he knew where Garrett was. "In bed," he confidently told me.

"No," I replied. "Garrett's on an airplane."

"Wow," he said, his voice filled with awe because apparently, even after hearing all of Garrett talk of flying aircraft, he still had no idea.

"Yeah, he's flying to Grandma's house."

"Grandma house? Wow."

Later, over breakfast, Caleb kept pointing to the ceiling, and then, after a bit of prompting from me, to the sky outside the kitchen window, saying, "Garrett up there! A plane! Up up up!" So apparently something regarding Garrett's absence has clicked.

***

I'm not particularly looking forward to the next several days of a nearly empty, very quiet house, but I am looking forward to eavesdropping in on more phone conversations between Garrett and Caleb.

It will also be interesting to see what their time apart will be like. So far Caleb is living it up, happily playing with toys and even more happily not sharing them with his bossy big brother. And Garrett meanwhile is, I'm sure, talking 'til he's blue in the face about the awesomeness of aircraft.

he can't run, but he can try to hide

I realize that, despite the somersaults it sometimes feels like he's turning, there's not a lot of room inside me for this baby to stretch out and get comfortable, but nearly every ultrasound peek I've had of him shares one striking similarity.

17 weeks

21 weeks

Is he shy? Or is his hand just stuck up there by his face?

I'm curious to see if he still finds this position comfortable after he's born and has more room to move around. It will also be interesting to see if this tendency is reflected in his personality in any way.

Or, you know, maybe I'm growing a future Peek-A-Boo champion. At the very least, I know he has five fingers on that hand, so he's already got that going for him.

caleb speaks

Caleb is a talker and, in addition to parroting everything his older brother says, is starting to say funny things of his very own. They're not quite as bizarre as what Garrett thinks to talk about, but he's certainly headed in that direction. Here's a sampling of the things he says so frequently, we'll probably be quoting them for the rest of our lives.


This is a conversation we have every single day during lunch.

Me: Okay, after lunch Caleb is going to take a...
Caleb: Map!
Me: That's right. You're going to take a nap---
Caleb: Bunkbed! Down bunkbed!

Even though he's been out of the crib for a couple months now, I think he still worries I might forget.

***

"Stop it out, o-KAY?!"

"Stop it out" is a combination of "Stop it" and "Cut it out." Lately he attaches his highly inflected and drawn out "o-KAY?!" to anything he wants to emphasize, though usually only when he's getting frustrated.

***

"That's siwwy."

His sense of humor is starting to become more developed and he finds lots of things silly these days. Often Garrett is the thing that is silly, and he'll make a point to say so: "Dahrrett so siwwy!" Of course, Garrett eats this up, and before too long both of them are giggling on the floor as they mirror each other's silliness.

***
"I do it myself!"
"Mommy/Daddy/Dahrrett do it!"

Caleb is becoming fiercely independent, almost obnoxiously so. He wants to do everything by himself...except for when he's feeling lazy, at which time he'll assign someone else to do it for him. And you'd better not volunteer to do something in place of someone else -- he takes his doled out assignments incredibly seriously.

***

"I hungry. I hungry, Mommy."

There's nothing like a little face standing two inches away from yours first thing in the morning as you lay half asleep in bed telling you that he's hungry to drag you out of your warm bed.

***

Favorite shows, which are requested on a daily basis as soon as Garrett is off to school:

"Nonan" (The Snowman)
"Eye and Eeah" ("Alex and Leah," also known as Signing Time)
"Pigeon Bus" (Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus)
"Boo's Coos" or "Paw Print" (Blue's Clues)
"Gagga Gagga" (Yo Gabba Gabba)

***

"It's ovee"

The second a show ends and the credits start rolling, Caleb runs to the TV, announces that it's over, and turns it off. Apparently he's all about saving energy.

***

"Mommy! I poopy-toot!"

He's showing nearly all the signs of being ready to graduate from diapers (even, despite his way of telling me he's uncomfortable and needs a new diaper, the difference been passing gas and something more) except the most important -- an interest in using the potty. If I could just convince him to be interested, I think we'd be set. But there's no point in rushing these sorts of things, especially with a personality like Caleb's. When he's ready, he'll let the world know.

***

"Bee sou-ee!"

This translates as "Bee cereal," which translates further as "Honey Nut Cheerios." This, along with a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows ("mar-mos"), is his favorite breakfast.

***

Other favorite things:

"Bandie" (his silky, blue blanket)
"Bee-bee" (his new baby doll; the old baby doll is now usually referred to as "Mommy's bee-bee" as he thrusts the doll and all the responsibilities to care for it onto me)
"Goggy" (doggy, whether real or plush -- he loves them all)
"Cheese-ham-teeta" (cheese and ham melted on a tortilla, which is his favorite lunchtime food)

last words

This evening, during our all-you-can-eat ice cream extravaganza.

Garrett: Mom, I want to feed a bear tomorrow. In a cave. You fink we do that?

Me: Aren't you scared of bears?

Garrett: No! Not a scary bear! A happy bear! [Brief pause as he reflects on his plan.] I put some food in a jar and feed it to the bear. You fink that a good idea?


So, basically, if Garrett has anything to do with it, 2012 will be an adventurous year indeed.

out with the old, in with the new

2011 was a hard year. (Any year that wraps up with therapy sessions for anxiety and depression by nature probably can't have been that spectacular, really.) I am ready to see it put behind me. But as I look forward to 2012, I'm finding that it isn't as easy as I thought it'd be to hope that it will be much better. There will, of course, be plenty of good to anticipate, but with that good will come a lot of change, and dealing with change is not something I'm particularly good at.

For example, in a few weeks we'll be able to drive a car we own around Brooklyn. (Have you heard? We bought a car! A 2004 Honda Pilot that is currently waiting for Blake and Garrett to retrieve it from San Antonio, which they'll be doing soon.) While I'm not particularly anxious to drive in New York City, it will be oh-so nice not to have to take the bus to church anymore.

In the spring we'll welcome our third musketeer, which I am of course thrilled about (and not just because this pregnancy is wearing me out). But the addition of another child into our family is an adjustment that takes time, and I'm still not entirely sure how we'll physically fit him into our current square footage.

In the fall Garrett will begin Kindergarten, which is another exciting thing, so long as I can figure out how to maneuver both the application process (yes, in NYC you must apply to Kindergarten) and the enrollment in Special Ed so that he can continue to receive speech (and also possibly occupational) therapy.

But I suppose that most of my anxieties will take care of themselves with time, patience, and, in some cases, a little practice in parallel street parking. And perhaps, with a little luck and likely a lot of hard work, 2012 will turn out to be a great year.

In the meantime I'm going to stay up late tonight and stuff myself silly at our annual all-you-can-eat ice cream extravaganza. (Because, have you heard? Ice cream makes everything better.)

the proof is in my purchases

Yesterday I was afforded the rare opportunity to take care of a few longer distance errands without my children in tow. My first stop was the optical to take care of an issue regarding my new eyeglasses. As I stood waiting on one side of the counter, the employee helping me from the other side struck up that conversation of small talk so familiar to pregnant women. "When are you due?" she asked. And then, "Is this your first?"

Since my boys were not with me, the latter was a fair question, and she, thanks to the typically small family sizes this city produces, was surprised when I answered, "No, my third."

My business there was wrapped up shortly after, and consequently, so was our conversation. But as I moved on to my next stops, it got me thinking. Is that the general assumption? That this pregnant belly will result in my first child? I'm sure it is, especially when I'm among strangers and not toting Garrett and Caleb around with me. But as I was riding the subway home, I looked down into my shopping bags and realized that I don't need those boys to tell the world that this is not my first baby. The proof can be found in my purchases.

For example, here are a few of the things I was toting home with me:

- A child's white dress shirt, size 5 (which would indicate that I have a 4- or 5-year old boy)
- A package of baby wipe refills (which would lead someone to believe that I also have a child at home in diapers)
- Two bags of goldfish crackers (can anyone say toddlers and/or preschoolers?)
- Two boxes of fruit snacks (ditto the above)
- A family-sized package of toothpaste (there are more sets of teeth at home to take care of than just those belonging to my husband and I)

So there you go. Not my first baby. And while I'll admit that this fact is a lot more obvious when Garrett and Caleb are with me, it should also be noted that leaving them at home makes me look a lot less crazy to be growing another one.