reflections at 37w5d

Mom and Jim arrived on Saturday and mom let me know that it was her goal that our triplets would be potty trained before the new baby arrives. Which, I was informed today - will most likely be sometime next week, if not sooner.

The kids spent most of the day Saturday and Sunday, and again today, running around partially naked in the back yard. Although we made efforts to keep them in cotton training pants, after changing 15 pairs of underwear in as many minutes, we decided it would be easier to smother them in sunscreen and let 'em run free.

Everytime we saw someone with a puddle around their feet, mom would shout out "I just saved you $0.35!!!"

As if having a dog running around and pooping in the back yard wasn't enough work, today, I was cleaning up toddler poop from the yard, too. And then, someone decided to re-enact a scene from Caddy Shack, and pooped in the wading pool while everyone else ran around screaming and pointing "POO-POO!! POO-POO!!"

Mom's convinced that we're getting close. Although close to what, I'm not really sure. Insanity, maybe?

Let's see ... what else is new?

Within the past 24 hours, me and the kids have all come down with a lovely little cold.

And, then, today our refrigerator broke. Because the repairman won't be here until Friday, Charlie just returned from the store with 10 bags of ice so that he could salvage the $300.00 worth of food that he bought on Saturday, by packing it in every single cooler we have in our garage.

As soon as our water heater is repaired, our dishwasher breaks.

As soon as our dishwasher is repaired, our toilet breaks.

As soon as our toilet is repaired, our refrigerator breaks.

I'm expecting that the washing machine and dryer are next to go.

Make no mistake. I love being a home owner.

Unlike when I was pregnant with the triplets and Charlie attended every single doctor visit with me, today was the first doctor appointment that he's attended during this pregnancy. He told me he wanted to tag along because I was scheduled to have an ultrasound and he said that he needed proof that I was really pregnant.

As if seeing me gain more than 70 pounds in the past 37+ weeks wasn't proof enough.

I first learned that I'd packed on four pounds since my appointment on Thursday. I then learned that my new doctor is extremely concerned with my previous history of PUPPPS and HELLP Syndrome and the triplet pregnancy and my current swelling ... and wants to schedule a repeat c-section for next week. He stressed that there was a chance, however small, that both the baby and I could perish if I waited much longer.

At least that's what Charlie heard.

Because then the doctor left the room leaving me alone with my husband who started to hyperventilate and say that if I died ... he would kill me. Then I got upset because if I died, Charlie would have to go back to work full-time and who would raise our kids?

So clearly, I can't die.

Of course I still haven't scheduled the c-section, which is causing Charlie and my mother and my doctor and Jim a tremendous amount of grief.

Such indecision!

I can't pick out a name.

I can't decide how I want to deliver our baby.

I can't determine if it's worse to pick up toddler poop from the grass or fork out $12.00 a day in diapers.

All I know is that I don't want to have a tubal ligation, something the doctor asked me about, today. Not because we're planning on having more children, but because it is too final of a procedure. And after our history, this is something that absolutely hurts to think about.

I also know that the feelings I have about delivering this baby are quite mixed because I'm sure our current dynamic will be totally changed. I'm excited to meet the little guy and see how our toddlers react to him ... but I'm really enjoying these last few days of pregnancy and savoring only having three children in diapers.

Although mom tells me that she'll have the new baby potty trained before she flies home at the beginning of August.

It's so good to have her here because she brings much needed comic relief. Like when she takes our children for a chase walk around the neighborhood, just before bedtime to help them expel that last bit of energy that would otherwise be used climbing out of their cribs and scaling furniture.

You know they look so fashionable in their footed Christmas pajamas, with sandals, traipsing down the street.

In June.