Dog Doctor, Lots Wife, & Laser Tag

We've been doing other stuff besides birthing babies around here. I had some of these pictures saved in my drafts with much more elaborate posts than this one. I decided to merge them together in the spirit of multi-tasking (which is the theme for our life these days).

Welcome to complete randomness, otherwise known as.... "January".

We made a baby chain and counted down the days until our baby would come. I think it helped me as much as the kids to be able to see a tangible difference as we made progress towards THE DAY, because quite honestly there were days where I saw no end in sight.


Dad took Emma on a date to the Richmond Boat Show. Emma who is obsessed with Webkinz and ballet flats from the Limited Too absolutely loves fishing. It's a strange combo but I'm sure her future husband will be pleased as punch.

The girl not only knows who Roland Martin is, but actually sought him out at the boat show. Her daddy couldn't be more proud.


These are salt dough creations of Lot's wife. Please note the oh-so-shocked expression on their faces and the well-coordinated movements of their limbs.


We made 847 15 or so bagel birdfeeders to hang in the woods behind our house. Note to self: Birds fly south in the winter. By the looks of the 847 15 or so birdfeeders that have dried out and are still hanging in the woods....we no longer live in the south.






Samuel got this awesome doctor kit for his birthday and it has been a hit for the whole family. He diagnoses his patients (his sisters) with serious conditions about needing to remove their teeth and concerns about their bladders migrating to their brains. When the girls tire of hearing about dirt in their blood (???) he moves on to his next willing victim patient....








The girls were invited to a Laser Tag birthday party and I came along to supervise. I wish that I had a photo, but since I don't you will have to let your mind wander and imagine a 9-month pregnant momma strapped down with Laser Tag gear and guiding her five-year old through a precarious and dark maze while being targeted by some very mean spirited 10-year old boys. I told them every time they shot me that their points shouldn't even count because what a pathetic target I was and they were being a bit rude.

Apparently, 10-year old boys aren't too worried about "rude".

After about a minute and a half Samuel realized that the gear was far too heavy for him to carry and passed it on to me. His pregnant mother. Who was extremely close to a heat stroke.

Maybe it's a good thing there are no pictures after all.


When we got our scorecards after the game, I realized that my very own son had shot me more than anyone else.

Talk about rude.

I am working on a slideshow with "Birth"day pictures and a little ditty about how that whole process went. It might take some therapy a while because I want to be sure and forgive my doctors get the facts straight.

I will say this to all the ladies who are still in the childbearing days of their lives.

DON'T FALL FOR THE WHOLE "Walking Epidural" HOGWASH.

IT'S CODE FOR...."THE EPIDURAL THAT DOES NOT WORK"