You're Perfect

Steve had to work this morning, so he was up and in the shower by 6 am. Shortly after he left the bedroom, Will came in feeling a little sick at his tummy.

I snuggled him up on Papa's side of the bed and got him some medicine.

When Steve came out of the bathroom, Will just laid there quietly and watched his Papa. Steve put on a long sleeve shirt and smoothed it down.

"You look good, Papa," Will said. For once, his voice quite and sincere. (That honest emotion you seldom hear from children as they age.)

"No." Steve puffed out his tummy in exaggeration. "Papa is fat!"

"No," Will replied quietly, "You're perfect."

Still Pregnant

I am exactly 11 days away from my official due date, November 14th. Most women would be happy to be so close to the end of their pregnancy. Me, I'm pissed.

Due to my age, 45, I've been told repeatedly by every doctor I've seen that I could expect to deliver 3-4 weeks prior to my due date.

So, that's what I planned for. I've had everything finished and ready for use for almost three weeks now. And, as we were expecting to deliver early, we haven't gone anywhere or made any plans that couldn't be dropped at a moments notice.

Today my doctor informed me that it will "most likely be a full week" before we have to worry about labor. What the hell?

She proceeded to explain that apparently, internally, I have the body of a much younger woman. Great! And no one noticed this before now?

Besides, what 45 year old woman wouldn't rather have the external body of a much younger woman?

On Your Mark ...

If there has been one consistent thing through out my unexpected pregnancy, it has been how hard I've tried to maintain a peaceful and stress-free life. Knowing the odds of a 45 year old woman carrying a child to term are horrendous, Steve and I have done everything possible to lighten my load and keep me and Linden as calm as possible.

Well, things are about to get interesting. Luckily, for Linden, his birth is basically the whistle that will start the race to the end of 2011.

(1) On Your Mark ...
Linden is due the 14th of November. And as shocking as it is to all of us concerned, he has technically made it to 'full-term' - as of Sunday night.

(2) Get Set ...
I haven't seen my side of the family since mom's death, so we are planning on driving up to see them for Thanksgiving. Thank God I won't be expected to do anything, but I'll still have a new baby on a road trip.

(3) Go!
Will's 7th birthday is December 2. Especially since Linden will have just officially entered our lives, it is important I don't 'short' Will this year. So we're talking party with friends, cake, presents. Work!

(4) and Go!
Bonnet and B'ella are coming to visit and see Tori's graduation. They'll probably show up around the 11th or 12th of December. I love them to death and miss them all the time, so I am super excited they are going to make it down. However, we will have to plan a family Christmas while they are here - not that I'd miss it for the world.

(5) and Go!
Tori's graduation is the 16th of December and afterward we are throwing an informal party in my back yard. I'm happy to be able to do anything to help celebrate Tori's graduation. I'm very proud of her and feel that I've helped her very little the last four years. The party will be nothing fancy, but it still means my yard and house need to be company cleaned. While I've managed to clear most of the clutter from the house, you don't want to know what the yard looks like. Work!

(6) and Go Again!
Then there is Christmas. I can already tell you I don't feel like putting up a tree, but for Will, the effort will be made. But then there is the meal, presents, Christmas eve, cards, etc.

A minimum of six engagements/events in a six-week period may not seem overwhelming to most people, but it does to me. And there is not a single event I would miss. It just majorly bites that they all happen at the same time.

Bonnet and Tori have both offered to help prepare the house for company. And just being surrounded by so much family and love will go a long way to smoothing the bumps I encounter as this amazing year says it's good byes.

The Nightmare

Will woke me up at 3:00 am Wednesday morning. He'd had a bad dream and was afraid. I calmed him down and got him back in bed. The next morning, while driving to the sonogram with Tori, I asked him what it was about. He asked if he could please not tell me.

I figured he didn't want to talk in front of Tori and I let it go. I even forgot about it.

Then he woke me again this morning. Another nightmare. I got him back to sleep. When Steve and I were putting him to bed, I asked what his nightmare was about and again he asked if he could please not tell me. We tried to let him know how sharing your fears with others can make them less scary. He didn't budge. Finally, Steve volunteered to leave the room and I got Will to talk.

First, he made me try to guess what his fear was. I covered all the normal things: school, teachers, bullies, animals, heights, falling, monsters, etc. Everything I could think of, to no avail.

He eventually come clean. He whispers really quietly, "A red and a green color are at war with me."

"Crayons?" I asked, stupefied.

"Yeah, they are at war with me."

He then proceeds to tell me how they attach him, chase him, and generally bully him. Two crayons. I'm kind of proud at how quickly I bounced back with a solution though.

"Crayons melt," I informed him. "You can fight them out in the sun and they'll melt. Blow them with a hair dryer. Shoot them with a flame thrower. Tie them to a light bulb and turn it on."

My mind was churning trying to find the right thing to say. But then I notice the emerging smile and relaxing facial muscles.

Oh yeah, them crayons are in for it now!

Will's Story

Will brought home a story he wrote last week.

What he actually wrote:

I win to a ws wot and I at pesgu.
and der waz moosit.
and I tllt fue juox.

Lucky for us, he could still read his own story.

What he read to us:

I went to a restaurant and I ate spaghetti.
And there was music.
And I told funny jokes.

Steve said it's apparent that Will has more than a little German in him.

My Give-a-Damn is Busted

Over the last few years, I have had several occasions come up where I was truly shocked at how unaffected I was by them.

From simple things like Will falling and skinning his knee while Steve and I watch him ride his bike. Steve jumps up and runs over to check on him and I sit in the chair and sip my drink. If I'm out watching Will ride by myself and he falls down, I yell, "Get out of the middle of the road," and wait for him to come to me. Yet, at the time it's happening, I remember when I jumped and ran for the girls when something similar happened.

I can say, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the change in reaction is not due to a lack of affection. I love all my children. I'm just not the same person now that I was when my girls were little.

There have been many other instances over the last few years: my waning (read nonexistent) interest in holidays, lack of participation in Will's school events (I attend what I have to, but don't ask me to do any more than that), determination not to sign Will up for after school activities, etc.

Another big instance of a lack of interest arrived when Lew and Dona returned from their latest trip to ND. They brought back a cradle that Steve made out of Mesquite and I fashioned linens for before Will was born. Steve sent it up to Dave years ago for his son, and now Dave has returned it.

The cradle means something significant to both Steve and Dave. And it should, I guess. Counting Linden, every male Marquardt from Lew's side of the family will have slept in the cradle. Besides that, it was made by Steve, and Tori burned a longhorn in both sides of it. Hell, I even made the linens.

So, was I excited to have it back? No. All I can think about is that I had already purchased a cradle, disinfected it, purchased linens for it and washed them, and have it made up and in place for the baby. I also happen to have a bassinet in the living room and a crib in the nursery. Now I have another bed to clean up and I have to figure where the hell they are all going to go. I can't even get rid of the other cradle as it is nearly twice the size of the one Steve made. I don't think Will slept in the homemade cradle but about 6 weeks.

As I work on the crib, I keep wondering about my lack of enthusiasm. Not just about the crib, but about a lot of things. I don't think it's my age, as Steve and I are the same age and he still gives a damn about many things I've lost interest in.

I'm wondering if it has more to do with the years I've already been a parent. After 20 years of jumping and running for each bump and scrape, diving head-first into school activities, and really trying to impress your children with holidays--

Maybe I'm just worn out.

Or again, maybe my give-a-damn really is busted.

The New Family Dynamics

Until Will started school, he only knew about traditional families. Which, when I think about it, is pretty amazing. But all his relatives have been in steady relationships since he's been alive. No divorces or breakups. No separations.

Once he started riding the bus, we began to associate more with the other families of like-age children in our area.

Ethan, who is in Will's class room, lives with his mom and step-father. He spends every other weekend with his dad.

Gabriel lives with his mom, and sees his dad some evenings and every other weekend.

And the other two families are traditional.

I never really thought about how this might impact Will or his thinking until a few weeks ago. We were outside laying in the hammock watching baby squirrels play in a near-by tree. There was only one adult squirrel visible and Will decided it was the "mommy". When I asked him why it couldn't be the daddy, his response was...

"Because, it's not the daddy's weekend."