Macy is having a smooth transition to being the only child for part of the day. This morning I heard her playing in her room, then shrieking. "Aah, aaah! A spider! I better get a kleenex."
She tore into my bedroom, grabbed a kleenex, held it out in front of her like a spear or something, and ran back to her room at top speed with the slightly misquoted battle cry, "Take Chaaarrrgggeee!"
She took a little too much charge left to her own devices in the bathroom the other day. We were cleaning up dinner and heard a terrible crash coming from the bathroom, accompanied by Macy's screams and wails. I had to take a picture because this is the first major Macy solo disaster (usually she is just the accomplice) that I can even think of. Yes, she stood on the toilet seat, lifted the lid off the tank, and lost control of it (good grief, I'm shocked that she could even lift that beast...) and it crashed to the floor, breaking into several pieces. When I asked her why she would do that, she said, "I wanted to see where the blue was coming from." Well, I guess you can't fault a kid for that. Leslie later came to me in tears and said that it was all her fault because she had shown Macy a few days earlier where the toilet bowl cleaner was coming from--Macy just wanted to see it by herself this time, I guess. Leslie isn't in trouble, either. I wish I had had a big sister to teach me where the blue stuff comes from.
Cooper started Kindergarten last week and is totally loving it. He was particularly concerned that I not cry when he got on the bus for the first time, so I was careful to wear sunglasses, just in case. Ha.
Boston had a fun birthday. I don't know many kids his age who ask for a bike, a bow and arrow, and beef jerky. All of his gifts have already been much enjoyed by all. The bow and arrow particularly reminded me of my dad shooting our nerf bow and arrow at us little tykes as we streaked out of the tub on Saturday night. If I recall, I'm pretty sure those suction cups stick to wet skin.
As far as Lucky Luke and I go, I just got an induction date two days after Dad's birthday, so we'll keep everyone posted. It'll be a couple weeks unless baby gets impatient. We took a tour of where I will be delivering and where Luke will be spending the first little while (hopefully as short a stay as possible). The doctors keep changing his diagnosis--in fact, at my visit on Friday the two cardiologists were in open disagreement about what they were seeing on Luke's echocardiogram. One thinks it's worse, definitely needs surgery at three days old, one thinks it's slightly better, probably skipping surgery until 4-6 months. They won't be able to decide for sure until he is actually born and they can monitor his oxygen levels and take an echo without me being in the way. So, they said to plan for the surgery just because it would be easier to cancel than to have to suddenly plan for it. I'm not worried that they won't be able to figure things out, mostly just not looking forward to not having my kids all be under the same roof and an hour apart from each other. I'm glad that my momma is coming down to play with my kids. They'll be so excited I don't think they'll miss me much.
All in all, Mark and I feel good about the whole thing. (I even managed to stare down my kind-hearted OB today, dry-eyed and steely-smiled, when he expressed his sympathy again for the "stressful" pregnancy I've had. The truth was I wanted to thank him for catching the defect on the ultrasound in the first place and probably saving the baby's life, but that would have just led to crying, and crying gives me contractions. Maybe I'll send him a card someday.)
Heavenly Father has a really great plan for our family, for our baby, (and for you, too, in case you were wondering.) I was feeling apprehensive last week, wishing that I would be able to have the same fabulous experience I had when Macy was born and I just felt so filled up with peace and joy and gratitude. I was reading in my journal about my feelings at the time and really feel like I received some assurance, particularly from this statement I had written down. "Serenity is a permanence of joy."--Pres. James E. Faust. The great thing is, all the things I already have so much joy about in this life ARE permanent. I just need to remember them and the serenity that I'm sure I'll be thirsting for in a few weeks will come.
Trust the plan.