She's on top of the world

So my big birthday wasn't the true purpose of our trek back to Pennsylvania in June.  As important as 30th's are, and despite the significance of a baby's birth (even a fourth baby), there is one event this summer that my portion of the family tree just can't top.  And that would be Uncle Jared and Miss Kylee's wedding in August!

You can just imagine the flurry of activity we're experiencing this summer.  Not to mention the piles of lace and tulle in my guest room.  The countless hours spent shopping for wedding weekend attire for our little family (that we're counting on being bigger by that day!) and the all those other details that I keep seeming to forget until inopportune moments.  And we're not even the bride's family!

How well do you know the couple quiz.

Thankfully the matron of honor/sister of the bride has got it together, because she pulled off the most genius bridal shower I've been to yet.  Now, there are people like me, the imitators in this world who spend our time on Etsy and Pinterest scanning ideas to copy.  Then there are people like Abi, the movers and the shakers, who actually come up with those ideas on the internet for the rest of us to copy.  I will always admire those kind of people ... and happily follow their lead!

So when Abi suggested the theme of "She's on top of the world" I just nodded my head enthusiastically and told her to put me to work... imitating whatever visuals she had swirling around in that uber-creative brain of hers.  Thus, the invitations were born.  Although these came from my computer and printer, please note that I could have never thought of something like this on my own.  I borrowed all inspiration from an online image and I'm not ashamed to say it.

There's this fantastic coffee house back home in Williamsport.  I was never there before this day but I'll most certainly make it a regular occurrence when I'm in town from now in.  It was just simply amazing!  And the perfect setting for wishing our favorite bride-to-be well in her new future!

Aunt and Mother of the Bride.

Sister and Niece of the Bride.

In which the Mother of the Groom find out she doesn't know her son as well as she thought!

Uncle Micah pulled a baby shift at the end of the shower so we could clean up!

In accordance with the "world" theme we added a few globes we could find, one spray-painted gold, and also used an old atlas as the guestbook.  Abi found a tutorial for making flowers and other decor out of maps, and I just so happened to come across an entire box of old maps at a yard sale for $1.00.  She spray-painted some bottles gold to set around the room in addition to some amazing vintage suitcases.

Abi suggested a world map pillow for the bride's chair and, since we make such a grand team, I was able to find a great deal on some fabric from France to make our own.

And then there was the food.  Oh, the food.  Let me tell you, my little brother is marrying in to quite the delicious family.  I'm really going to need to step things up a notch.

For favors Abi made homemade peanut butter cups with a world map on top.  And although I printed off the tags, the message was all her doing: "Thanks for coming, we think the world of you!"  See what I mean?  I could have spent hours Googling "world-themed thank you messages" and never come up with something so clever.  I'm just in awe.  I need more creative people in my life.

The shower went off splendidly!  Miss Kylee is now well on her way to becoming mistress of her own house... just as soon as Uncle Jared finds said house.

We'll let them worry about that for now though, since we have bigger issues to be concerned with.  Like what color of shoes the Little Miss will wear that day ... or perhaps even more important, just how many days old will she be at the wedding?  I would say that all this anxiety is about to put me in labor, but at this point, that would not be a bad thing!

Thirty.

I've been living on the downside of 30 for over a week now, just waiting for something profound to say about this phase of life.  And so far - nothing.

The truth is, we've been living like we're in our 30s for a while now.  The high school advanced composition class essay I wrote on "Where I see myself 10 years from now" has been out-of-date for quite some time.  I've picked up more degrees, jobs, and babies (oh the babies) than I ever expected at this point.  And with that in mind, I think we'll keep the next 10 years wide open.  No goals, other than to be wife and mama to the people I love most in all the world.  To help them grow and achieve their own goals.  To give them plenty of opportunities to fulfill their own "where I see myself 10 years from now" essays.  And I'm learning, with that kind of perspective, 30 isn't so bad after all.

So what does 30 look like?  It looks like going to bed before 11:00 and striving to be up first every morning, just for that sliver of quiet before the Littles rise.  It looks like Target runs in the minivan, blasting Hillsong Kids and playing DJ for my guys, flipping only between tracks 1 (Jude's favorite) and 11 (Jack's favorite), while tickling Julia's toes so she doesn't fall asleep on the way home.  It looks like finally cleaning out the high school field hockey t-shirts and college jeans to make room in the wardrobe for maternity shirts and nursing tanks.  It looks like counting - counting to three to get Jude to take another bite of dinner, counting the number of seconds it takes Jack to change out of his jammies into his clothes (all by himself), counting as loudly as possible to get two small wrestlers' attention...

It also looks like compression hose and ice packs.  Swollen ankles and bulging bellies.  Tired eyes and deeper laugh lines.  Oh, the laugh lines.  Because no matter how difficult, how challenging, how exhausting these pre-midlife years have become, I've never been happier.  There's just too much to be thankful for.

So while the big 30 looked just like any other day - whining kids, piles of laundry, a late-working husband, and the hecticness of packing up our family of five for a road trip - there was a celebration waiting on the other side.

And it looked very much like a page taken from one of my favorite novels.

Lady Marmie.

Michelle - the kitchen help.

My mamas and the amazing Michelle!

Tea bag cookies.

My mom worked hard to plan and execute a Jane Austen Regency style tea party for my friends and I (just ask her how long it took to copy and paste some quotes into Word!).  And while I knew she and Jon had something planned for Saturday morning, I didn't know exactly what to expect.  Until I found my first clue hanging in the closet.



Growing up, my closest friends and I had healthy imaginations that we regularly indulged in "dress-up."  On Thursdays the local thrift store had a fill-a-bag for $8 special.  And so we'd raid the formal dress rack, roll those layers and layers of tulle and satin up into tight wads, and stuff as many in a bag as possible.  And since neither my mom nor myself has had the heart to go through the trunks of memories still harbored away in our garage storage, most of those dresses are just the way I left them over 15 years ago.

Well, until Mom busted a few out for party decor and costume options.  Because dressing-up was on the agenda, and the most hardcore guests dove right in.

Alli rocking the 50-some year old wedding gown ... like a pro!

My future-sister-in-law diving right in ...

... or maybe she improvised.

Liling in a vintage bridesmaid dress.

And then there was my number.  It was a little hot, and I had a hard time hearing through the layers on my bonnet, but for a little while I got to walk in Jane Austen's shoes.  Okay, so not really.  My left foot was entirely too swollen to sport any Regency foot ware, but I got a sufficient taste regardless.

35 weeks - Regency dresses are so pregnancy-friendly.

But nothing quite like this guy.  Who utterly shocked me when he walked into the room looking like this.

And reciting the famous Mr. Darcy proposal speech that he had been, unbeknownst to me, memorizing over breakfast that morning.  Shocked, people, just shocked.  Keep in mind this is the man that watches a periodic British film with me about once every 10 years, and then makes snarky comments throughout the entire movie.  Now, that's true love right there.

Mama's girl.

Oh, yeah, all out in one breath!

In addition to typical tea party refreshments, we also played the word game featured in "Emma" and took a "Pride and Prejudice" quiz.

Notice anything wrong with this picture?

And then I was even more surprised, overwhelmed and abundantly blessed by lovely gifts from some even lovelier ladies.  It's so nice to have such wonderful friends back "home" that continue to shower me with love even though I don't live there anymore.

So that is how my fourth decade has started out.  We've been going non-stop since then, so I haven't had much time to dwell on my advanced age.  And perhaps that's a good thing.  What they say about kids keeping you young - it's all true!

(Partly) Happy Father's Day

I am strugglin' here.  I started to think that the newest pregnancy symptom this time around, that I haven't experienced before, was compulsory spending (that straw sun hat for Julia?  I'd like to see you say no when she puts it on and smiles...).  But lately there seems to be a new, perhaps hormonal??, issue - the grumps.  My kids are driving me CRAZY this week!  They are like louder, faster, more intense versions of themselves.

When Jack does his typical I'm-not-getting-my-own-way wail, it's more piercing, of a longer duration, and ten times more aggravating.  Jude seems to need me more and more.  I feel like half my day is spent helping him get re-dressed after yet another potty trip.  Or fixing his flip-flop.  Or acknowledging his boo boo.  Or cutting another hang nail.  Or reaching his cup.  Or cleaning up spilled drink.  And Julia is suddenly the baby again.  Up at night needing to be comforted, up at 5:15am and then swiftly back to sleep, on my chest, snoring in my ear, drooling down my shoulder, oblivious to her sister's protesting kicks, while I lie wide awake for the next one and half hours...

And we might as well not leave out Little Sister.  At 34 weeks I feel like I'm peaking.  Full-fledged swollen feet, the occasional kick that literally takes my breath away, that pressure on my joints and rib cage, that urgent need to pee every time I shift positions, and the sheer difficulty of keeping up with three small children and all their needs, messes, activities and volume ... when all I really want to do is curl up on the couch, watch "Sense and Sensibility," look at baby things on Etsy, and for heaven's sake find this child a dresser to keep her clothes in!!

All I can say is, thank goodness vacation is right around the corner.

In fact, a lot of things are just around the corner.  It's exciting, and keeps us busy.  And just a little scary that it's all going to go by so fast and the next time I blink I'll be holding a newborn.  I've always wanted a summer baby, but clearly I wasn't think about family vacations, weddings, showers, and all the extra house guests that warmer months bring.

So unfortunately, I've got a major case of the grumps.  I guess you could say the good news is at least I'm aware.  And I so much want to rectify it.  I so want these last few weeks of pregnancy and last few weeks of mothering my precious three to be joy-filled and peaceful, it's been my prayer for the past few days and I'm hopeful we'll turn the corner soon.

33 weeks.  Sadly, I've completely lost track and only know this because my calendar is sitting right in front of me.

And while I'm sure my current state has a lot to do with it, I'm not the only one who's noticed my kids have upgraded to their latest version.  I think Jon had a good taste of it this weekend as well.  And it all seemed to come to a climax on Father's Day morning.  I had a MOPS retreat all day Saturday, in which Jon had the kids to himself, and he went golfing with Uncle Jared that evening, in which I had the kids all to myself.  And so we all woke up for church this morning just plain OFF.  Of course, it went downhill from there.  With each boy alternately screaming/crying in the car.  Julia screaming as I dropped her off at the nursery.  Everybody yelling and fighting and picking and tripping when we got home.

Also, occurring this week - a tornado warning.  I corralled the kids in the basement and we danced until Twitter informed me all was clear.

I'd like to say that I packed a lovely Father's Day luncheon and we picnicked at the park and had special family time together.   That's partly true.  Father's Day actually slipped my mind until last night, when I took all three kids out to three different places trying to figure out what we were going to do.  And then spent a small fortune on prepared picnic food at the grocery store because I knew I wouldn't have the time or energy to plan it myself.  And then came home, passed out paint to the Littles for their project, only to realize soon thereafter that it was not washable paint.  Doh!  And then, after cleaning up all kids, putting them to bed, and answering Jude's potty/drink/boo-boo calls for the next hour after bedtime,  to feverishly scanning Pinterest well into the night for a Father's Day idea, any idea, that I could finish before Jon got home.

Their "house". It's amazing what they can accomplish in the amount of time it takes me to switch out a load of laundry.

And so by the time we got home from church, and Jack and Jude had both been put in separate spaces at least three times.  And Julia had dumped out the contents of a kitchen drawer, my purse, and a box of toys, we were about ready to call it all off.  I mean, no one felt like celebrating anything.  But we persevered, got everybody buckled in, set off down the road, were about halfway there, and then Jon realized he forgot his wallet so we had to turn around and head back.

We did make it to the park.  And, if nothing else, the weather was perfect.  While our lunch started out a bit rocky, I decided to segue into cards/gifts and that soon lightened the mood.  I had turned the boys' painted artwork into tie "bookmarks" and then taped them on to a dress-shirt card.  But the best part was what the boys "wrote" to their daddy on the inside.  Well, I wrote.  They spoke and I transcribed.

Dear Daddy,
You're strong like a coyote.  You're a good uncle to my friends Aviel and Gabe.  Thank you for taking me to the beach.  I like your "moving high-fives" when you put me to bed.
I love you!
Jude

Dear Daddy,
I like it when we wrestle and play in the leaf piles.  I like to be waterboarded.  You have big muscles like me and big teeth, too.  I love you!
Jack

We were laughing so hard I'm sure the people around us thought that the world's best Father's Day was going down right at our little picnic table.  And just for clarification, when Jon puts the boys to bed and gets them a drink of water, Jack likes to lay on the floor and have Jon pour it in his mouth.  It's their new thing.  So no, we do not waterboard our children.  Although I have been trying to think of  a way to get them to tell the truth ...

One truth we know to be certain, Daddy is certainly as strong as a coyote and truly does have big muscles.  He's also the best Daddy we could ask for and we're so incredibly thankful he's ours.  Especially weeks when Mama is particularly grumpy and half-wishing she had asked the midwife to put her on modified bedrest at the last appointment.  Just kidding.  Maybe.  To quote my middle child, "Are we going to the beach yet??"