Hero Hottie and his Mopey Pregnant Wife

    Recently, Hero Hottie read my most recent blog, Life in Transition. He was very quiet when he finished and I asked him what he thought of it.
    "It was well written." He says.

     Translation: I wrote it well but...

    "What's wrong with it?" I asked, about to cry for about the hundredth time that day. The poor guy had already dealt with my mood swings all morning. When he went to buy a cup of coffee and asked if I wanted anything I just sat on the couch all glumly and mopey. Perhaps it was the weather, or listening to emotional songs all last night, or just being pregnant but I was still in a funk. And not a good groovy funk but an Eeyore kind of mood.
    "Woes is me. I'm just a pregnant woman all fat and frumpy."

    "How about a root beer?" he asks because that has been one of my cravings this pregnancy. "I will buy what ever kind you like."
     Even a root beer didn't sound tasty. I really was in a mood. "No," I muttered, shrugging my shoulders.
     "No root beer? Nothing?" He starts naming off brands and not just regular gas station root beers but ones he would have to go out of his way to buy. The really good kinds brewed with real sugar and not high fructose corn syrup and bottled in glass bottles. You know a man loves you when he's willing to drive all over town for a single bottle of root beer.
    But I still couldn't shake off the mood. It was clinging to me like a little black rain cloud.

    He sighs, clearly frustrated and a bit worried that he can't fix my mood with a root beer. I'm usually a very positive person, so falling into an Eeyore type of mood and actually staying there was quite unusual for me, even with being pregnant.
    "Is there anything I can get you?"
     I sigh now because there has to be something that will make me feel better and the guy is trying so hard to fix.
    "Hot chocolate." I finally decide on my other craving this pregnancy.
     "The Starbucks one from Safeway?" he asks.
     I nod, hating to send him out of his way but I can't just have hot chocolate from the coffee shop. It has dairy in it and my stomach hates dairy now with a passion. Never used to be that way but it is now. So I have to find hot chocolate I can have, which is difficult. But Starbucks has hot chocolate packets you can buy that probably aren't real good for you because like the first or second ingredient is sugar but they have a chocolaty goodness that makes me not care. Mmm, hot chocolate. And studies have shown chocolate is good for you. I think it should be it's own food group, right up there with fruit. Because strawberries and chocolate when put together should be considered a super food. 

    But back to the story...I had hot chocolate and my mood still doesn't improve. Finally when Hero Hottie is out the door for work, he has clearly had enough with my mood.
     "Are you going to pity yourself all day?"
      I frown. "I'm pregnant and on bed rest. I can be moody if I want to." I defend myself and my mood.
     "But it's not doing you or that baby any good."
      My frown deepens. Do I try to use the pregnancy card again or do I admit that I have let my mood sink into a self pity party of one?
     Yes, life is changing. I'm in a mode of transition, but isn't life normally like that? Nothing stays the same, nothing is frozen in time. Our babies are born, they learn to walk and in time they leave the nest.
     Nothing is static.
     My Mom used to tell me that she was glad when life was boring. When someone would ask her if there was anything going one she was always happy to tell them that nothing was going on and nothing had changed.
    I used to agree with her because I was usually focused on the negative changes in my life. And who wants those?
    But then I started to fear change. Any change. And not all change is something to fret over, or to worry about, or to dread.
   Some change is wonderful and has to be embraced...or we remain static.
  
   I was looking up Ecclesiastes to find the quote about "There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heaven." Some people might know the entire verse from Sunday school; others might recognize it from the song by The Byrds.
   But I found another quote further down on the page that I thought was more fitting. It reads, "Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If they fall down, they can help each other up. But pity those who fall and have no one to help them up!"
  
   We aren't supposed to go through life alone. Changes are supposed to be shared. Hard times are supposed to be traveled together. When I wrote about my Life in Transition, I was given a lot of support and love from the people around me.
   I wasn't alone.
   And Hero Hottie was right. Self pity was not doing me any good. A little sulk can help you cleanse your system of the heavy emotions but you can drown in them if you're not careful.
  
   Finally, I answer him. "I am throwing myself a self pity party and I'm done."
   And I meant it. Later that day I connected with my friend which improved my mood, I spent time with Bean which I cherish because I do realize that someday she will be grown and on her own and I enjoyed time with Baby Blueberry as she kicked up a storm in my womb.
    And I have a husband who will drive all over town to find something, such as a bottle of root beer, to cheer up my mood. But who will also challenge me to keep growing and changing as a person.

    So Change, bring it on. I can't guarantee I won't find my Eeyore sometimes, but I will do my best to meet you head on.
    And I'll be bringing my army of loved ones to help me face you.

Life in Transition

    A journey starts with an idea. And that idea becomes a reality when we have made a decision to step onto that path.
    Some people make rapid decisions; they don't hesitate, they don't self doubt and they always seem confident. Perhaps some of them are and others are just good at hiding their feelings of fear.

    Other people make decisions like they're on a see saw. They go one way and then not liking the direction they have been thrown in, go the other way. But they always seem to go back and forth, never finding that balance they need to stay on one path and complete their journey.

    In my life I have made decisions in a variety of different manners. Some were made so quickly I'm not sure I even had a conscious thought...Snap. I felt it and made it happen. Like when Hero Hottie and I adopted Buddy from the pound. I didn't take days and weeks to ponder if it was the right choice or not. I just felt it and went with the decision.
   I never, ever doubted that choice. Even when we had to put him to sleep and he broke my heart in the way only a canine companion can do.

    When I fell in love with Hero Hottie there was no wishy washy 'do I or don't I' kind of thoughts. In fact, after three weeks of dating I just knew. It was there in my heart without a doubt and even though I was young and couldn't even decide on what college degree to obtain or what sort of career to go after...I was marrying this guy. It wasn't a conscious thought, just an awareness of the decision I had already made.
     The only thing I would have done differently-- I would have gone on a honeymoon. I was finishing a semester of college and we were buying a small cottage house to live in, so we used the gift money we had received from family and friends to furnish our new place. Not that I regret the huge, most comfy couch ever that we purchased...but I didn't realize at the time with how busy life can get sometimes skipping a honeymoon means you never get one. And of course, just when we're starting to think about perhaps sneaking away for one since Bean and Abu are older...Baby Blueberry decides to come along.

    In the past few months I have experienced a lot of changes in my life, without making a single decision to do so. And I feel like I'm in the middle of the journey. I've left the starting line and there's no going back to the way things were but I'm no where close to the finish line. My lungs are starting to burn from the exertion of trying to complete this journey and my throat is dry but I can't even see the end.

    A week ago a very good friend of mine and her family moved from across the street. On top of that the wonderful people next to them also moved. So in one week we went from a bustling neighborhood of kids and fun to a very quiet, subdued feeling.
     Bean and Abu are missing their friends like crazy. They would spend countless evenings across the street; playing and riding bikes; laughing and joking.
    Being kids. Being friends. Being neighbors.

    Abu says it will be the loneliest summer ever. It sounds like a title to a book. Because those words indicate change. And change is the beginning of a new story.
    And life is made up of our stories. Each one weaving together to form the person we are.

    I have to agree with her. The evenings haven't been the same. At all. And I don't write this to hurt anyone because they are following their journeys; their paths; their new chapter in their story and I hope it's a wonderful, splendid tale. Full of adventure- good adventure- and happy endings.

    But it does leave our story feeling a little bit sad right now. Being pregnant and hormonal doesn't help a bit.

    On top of this we have more change. My parents, six years ago, moved into my downstairs. It's a fully functional living space with kitchen, bathroom and bedrooms. But that only left us with two bedrooms upstairs. Well, once they realize Baby Blueberry was on the way they made plans to move out. Now is this a good idea financially for them; I'm not sure but again, this is their decision. Even with a baby on the way I wasn't going to kick my parents out.
    But in the meantime...they moved out this weekend. Bean and Abu have pretty much had their grandparents around since they could remember. And suddenly, when they haven't even stopped crying over their friends moving; their grandparents are leaving too.
    Now with that being said; they are only moving across the alley to a house they rented. So it's not like they're going very far away. The only problem is I can't seem to convince the girls of this. They must measure distance differently than I do.
   
    So right now our life is in transition. Our entire daily routine and even our thoughts are still stuck in the same mode we were in two weeks ago when if we needed someone to visit with we just simply walked across the street and had a visit. It was sweet and spontaneous.
    Or if the girls needed their grandparents they simply walked downstairs and found time away from Mom and Dad.
    Now-- the new neighbors are young and childless. And the downstairs is strangely quiet.
    In three short months our lives will change even further with Baby Blueberry and the start of middle school for Bean.
    So I don't feel like we're going to settle this summer into a new routine; into a new chapter. There are too many things unsettled and in chaos. The girls have to paint their new rooms and we have to ready a nursery. I might be on modified bed rest for the entire pregnancy which puts me into a holding pattern. I can't really start anything new because I have to rest.
    And our friendships have to be planned events now; something that is going to take getting used to.
   
     My only solace is the local outdoor swimming pool. Bean and Abu are old enough to swim in the water without me and I can watch from my lounge chair, in the shade, working on my short stories.
    So it's our summer of change and I could probably blame it on the Mayan calendar. It is 2012 after all. And plus we just had the Transit of Venus which sounds mysterious and life changing. I didn't see it personally; I didn't want to peer directly into the sun but I saw the photos. Little old Venus crossing the massive sun.
    That's the way I feel. Little old me trying to swim across this vast burning mass of change.
    Boy, listen to me. Getting all moody on my readers. It sounds like I might be pregnant and experiencing mood swings or something.
    Maybe I just need chocolate.
    Or pickles. :) 
    

Naming Baby Blueberry

       Obviously, we can't name her Blueberry. It's been fine as a nickname but naming my children after fruit just doesn't work for me.  I mean the names are very organic and natural sounding, but I'm not a celebrity, who are expected to name their children with the oddest names around, and we're not living in the seventies.
       With that being said I do have a friend that has named her children after trees and that surprisingly has worked out really well. Willow is a pretty name. So is Rowan.
      But Baby Blueberry doesn't feel like she wants a tree name. Of course, with every new name we come up with and ask her about she gives us little indication of her preference. She loves music and she loves familiar voices and that's what she kicks to. She won't answer questions at this point.
      I thought about a name based off music since she seems to love listening to music but Melody, Harmony and Lyric just didn't seem to fit either.
   
    I don't remember the other girls being so complicated to name. Bean was given a Sanskrit name that has fit her to a T. And Abu was given a traditional name we had picked for Bean but didn't feel it fit her. It worked perfectly for Abu.
    Blueberry has us reading over lists and lists of names on the Internet, trying to find the right name. The perfect one. The name she will love all her life and not want to change. We're leaning towards a sweet and traditional sounding name but how many kids will have the same name?
    Perhaps with bed rest I'm thinking too much. It's like this quote someone sent to me on Facebook, "think too much and you'll create a problem that was not even there in the first place."
    How did they know that's my motto right now?

    But lets think about it for a moment. We'll fast forward to Kindergarten, five or six years from now. Blueberry walks into the classroom and what does she find.
   First of all, there will be this moody, dark haired girl in the corner of the room chewing on her pencils and watching a boy across the room. She probably won't do her homework or want to play hopscotch. She doesn't want to be your friend. Nope, she'll want to be mopey. Her name is Bella.
  
     The boy she is watching across the room is equally moody and has a massive amount of hair gel in his little spiked hair. He growls a lot, like when the other kids get too close to him or the teacher wants him to sit in circle time. His name is Edward. And please, don't call him Eddie, he might bite you.

    Another little boy is watching Bella. And gets into fights with Edward at recess. Of course his name is Jacob. He might also have a flea problem and he eats his homework.

  So right away, we know Bella is not the right name for Blueberry. She won't be the only one with that name and do we want her to be modeled after a self obsessed, vampire loving, moody teenager?

   But it gets worse. Next we find a group of two or three girls hanging out together. They all have their hair in a braid down their backs and they're tough. No dresses in this group. They're all named Katniss. 
   Of course, they like to play with the boys in the class named Peeta and Gale. There's a few of them too.
   But they all ignore the kid named Haymitch. He just sits in the corner of the room, drinking his milk all day long and if the teacher tries to take it away he starts screaming and they have to call his parents.
   Another little girl named Effie is just annoying. She always has a dress on and won't get dirty at recess, her hair is curled or styled every morning by her Mom, and she talks about silly things, even when the teacher is reading out loud to the class.
   A shy little girl sits at her desk and her name is Primrose. And I'm sure we'll round out the group with some Clove, Brutus, and perhaps even a Finnick.
    Blueberry don't even sit by Finnick. He's a smooth operator, and he's not sharing his milk just to be nice.

   So I suppose a sweet and traditional name might work after all. In a room of movie and book characters her old fashioned name will actually be unique and different. Unless the next Blockbuster this summer has a character with that name...than she'll spend her entire life answering one question.
   "Were you named after that character in those really popular books that was turned into that movie?"

    Perhaps we'll just stick to the name Blueberry after all. :)
  
 
  

I've Survived 5th Grade...Is there a manual for Middle School?

  

 

       Last week Bean sat in one of those folding chairs made out of metal, the kind that are always cold when you sit down...with the entire fifth grade and had a small graduation ceremony. The red caps were cute, made from paper and full of candy. The 'diplomas' were rolls of Mentos, tied with ribbon.
      I'm not sure why they were rewarded with candy for completing their Elementary years but I suppose it makes sense; since it seems like completing anything in school nowadays is rewarded with candy. I wish I got candy every time I finished the dishes or the laundry.
     But candy aside, the ceremony was sweet. They had a slide show with photos of the entire year played to some sappy song that of course made me cry. (But then again, I am pregnant and allowed to cry at anything without question. It has nothing to do with my oldest growing up.)
     And all the kids had dressed up for their graduation. They looked stunning but no longer little kids anymore. A lot of the boys had suits and ties on, glimpses of the young men they would soon be turning into. And the girls wore dresses not of ruffles and prints and durable kid material but of soft, flowing fabric and laces and solid colors. Some had high heels and most had just a touch of make up on. Some had obviously spent an hour on their hair and they all looked way too grown up for us parents. Where had our babies gone? Wasn't it just yesterday that we walked them into school for their very first day of Kindergarten, either wearing a t-shirt with a cartoon character on it or a dress with a pound of ruffles on it? With backpacks on their tiny backs that were bigger than they were? With nervous smiles and excited faces and just a bit of fear as they entered the world of the big kid?

     And now they stand almost eye to eye with us, full of spunk and knowing it all already. They rarely play with toys and they giggle about the opposite sex. They have opinions about everything, 
even things they don't have any experience with.  They have hormones and are talking about or experiencing puberty.
      They're glad you came to the ceremony but rather giggle and laugh and have photos taken with their friends. But don't go too far away because underneath that grown up kid is still that little boy or girl that had to be held every time they skinned their knee or they saw a shadow in their room.
     Their expressions say, "Let me fly but be close by because I don't really want to go too far on my own. Not yet."
     But that's how it starts. Little bits of independence. Here and there. As parents that's what we want them to grow up into. Adults that are capable and kind and not afraid of the world.
     It's difficult though. Sometimes we want to hold them back...just a bit. Whisper to them that they can be little a bit longer. They don't have to grow so quickly.
     But they do grow quickly, some days waking up and in one night their pants are an entire inch shorter than just the day before.
    One moment they think boys have cooties and girls talk too much. And the next moment...well, hormones have kicked in.

     I'm so proud of Bean. We had a rough year and for a while it didn't look like we would arrive at this point with her class. The Mean Girl never did stop being mean to everyone. She still got in trouble after the principal had spoken to her about her treatment of Bean. But the attitude of the other girls changed. No longer would they listen to, or give the Mean Girl the attention she kept trying to steal from every one around her.
    We can't change the people around us but we change ourselves and how we deal with things. Which sometimes means standing up for the right thing. Demanding change of a bad situation.
      And I think that is what Bean learned most of all from being bullied. She couldn't change the Mean Girl.  Because the Mean Girl never did learn or grow or change her behavior. Her behavior was more subdued because she knew if she was caught than there would be trouble but she never had some life altering epiphany like they do in the movies. Maybe someday.
    But Bean didn't care anymore. None of the girls did. What the Mean Girl had to say didn't carry any weight anymore.
    And I'm so proud of Bean for standing up to this girl, for demanding a change in the situation, to cast a light on what was going on...because she helped the other girls realize what was going on and they could also put an end to how it was affecting them.

    So in the last few months of school Bean had friends. Lots of friends. A social group. And we finished fifth grade on a happy note. Her goal at the beginning of the year was to have more friends, to push herself socially, to introduce herself and put herself out there and risk being hurt by way of rejection. A fear she has always had, which made it difficult for her to make more than a best friend through her other years of elementary school.
     Not only did she succeed, she pushed past some of the worse hurt and came out ahead. Stronger. More self assured.
    She could just have easily shut down and never tried to make friends again.
     I just have to say good job, kid. Good job.

    So I hug Bean after the ceremony and try not to cry until I get home. We survived fifth grade. She survived fifth grade...
    now I just have to start worrying about Middle School.
    Oh, boy.
    Are should I say BOYS!!!?