Eighth [Month] Wonder of the World

So, maybe I'm not the eighth world wonder, but to many, I appear to be the eighth month wonder. Yes indeedy, we are well into the eighth month of pregnancy - which, to many people, lends the encouraging sound of "getting close!" to the due date. However, that all changes when you put it in terms of weeks (about 5 to go) and sounds even more distant when you actually tell them the estimated date of baby's arrival: July 15th. Well, good lord, that's after July 4th - which we all know is the "middle of summer" and since summer is just barely beginning, she still has half the summer to wait for this watermelon of a baby to arrive!

That is at least my theory of what must spring through people's minds when they contemplate their calendar against the sight before them: my ginormous belly. To which they then respond with their gasps, their disbelief, and their downright boisterous predictions of either a) why I am so huge [Surely, I am carrying twins and don't know it.] b) when my baby will actually be born [Certainly this is my last stop before the hospital, right?] or c) continue on in telling me their own blood curdling tale of someone they've known who birthed an 11lb+ baby somewhere in the world [You don't come back from that one].

Let me explain my internal thought, which is almost always the same everytime: "Thank you. Are you serious?" That's about it.

I'm always glad when someone asks me about my pregnancy or baby, it is simply one of my favorite subjects, after all. And, I truly don't mind [or perhaps have become numb to] the "big" comments - I love how I look when I'm pregnant and I had very similar experiences when carrying my first baby and to be honest, pregnancy has done nothing but improve my self-esteem and appreciation for what my body has been created to do! But what continues to shock me, nearly every day, is the absolute lack of filter on what people have to say. (For the record, yes, the story is true that a lady actually pulled her car over and waved me over just to tell me how huge and uncomfortable I look while walking and that there is no way I'll last another five weeks. I mean, that is some EFFORT, lady!)

Pregnancy somehow has this superpower over people that completely eliminates the barrier for tact. It's like the belly creates a force field upon which people have no control over what comes out of their mouths. I'm not sure which is worse - blaming the belly for this "force field" theory I have, or admitting that I'm bringing a child into a world where stupid people abound.

The truth is, they are not all together wrong. In this wondrous eighth month of pregnancy, I have actually "measured ahead" an entire month. That means that my 30 week belly felt like a 34 week belly, and my 34 week belly felt like a 38 week belly and so forth. No wonder my back hurts! But, I am happy to report that as of yesterday, baby girl #2 is nearly back on track - only measuring about 1 week ahead of schedule! So - I hope you got it out of your systems, oh strangers-who-must-comment-on-my-size (I'm not counting on it). I'm nearing the "normal" range! :)

While people are placing their bets on how early I pop, I'm not setting myself up for any early evictions. This girl has a lease on this mama for a good 5 more weeks and come rain or shine or swollen ankles, she is welcome to come whenever she is darn good and ready (though prayers for a less than 11lb baby would be appreciated!)

While there are days I am certain this girl has 8 knees and 10 elbows in there...I know she doesn't have a calendar. We're on the home stretch, baby, let's do this!

Tick Tock

Everything is on a countdown these days. Countdown until Josh's last day at Biola (3 days). Countdown until his graduation (10 days). Countdown until his first day at his new job (15 days). Countdown until my last day at Biola (29 days). Countdown until baby #2 comes (58 days...give or take). Tick. Tock.

And clock just keeps on ticking.

First things first - Josh's departure from Biola. It will be very strange to return to work next week without him by my side. I take comfort in knowing that my time at work without him is limited as well, but it will be sad and strange to lose my carpooling buddy, my lunch companion, and my favorite distraction from work. Though we have worked in different departments, we are deeply ingrained in each other's work lives just as we are in our personal lives. It has been another level of sharing that not every couple gets to partake.

Josh hasn't only been my husband, but my co-worker for the last three and a half years that I've worked at Biola as well. In a way, we are "going our different ways" career wise - fortunately, for both of us, those "different ways" happen to be in the same direction, steered straight into building our family. :) Our roles our changing, and I'm sure this transition bears more adjustment than we anticipate - though all welcomed and eagerly anticipated!

Still, it will be strange to not have those car rides home together where we get to rant and rave like a couple of overly worked office slaves sharing mutual grievances at happy hour. It will be sad to lose those daily lunches (kid free, mind you) that we get to just joke with our fellow workers about who brought the worst leftovers or what meetings must we endure this week. And it will be awkward to lose those spontaneous moments of inside joking when you just know you "had to be there at work" when something hilarious happened.

And yet, the closure to this chapter in our lives is perfectly timed. I couldn't be prouder of Josh, venturing beyond what might be familiar and comfortable and ready to step up into the role of "full time breadwinner" for the Pardy home. I am blessed beyond belief to share a partnership with him, and inspired at his dedication to provide for his family. We are some lucky gals in this Pardy home, thankful to have a husband/daddy who is not only willing, but excited to take on the task of balancing work and family. His graduation from Biola with his Master's next week will only culminate the last 6 years into a final moment of recognition and appreciation for the time that we have spent there. Sort of the perfect ending, if you ask me. (Thanks, Lord!)

So, as we check off one of the many new ventures we are about to embark upon....So long, "co-worker" Josh. You will be missed. But, I'm sure glad I get to be next to you in the passenger seat of life...somewhere we will always get to take the carpool lane. ;)

My Big Job Promotion

A family update from the Pardys!

As many of you may have heard by now - there is some transition coming to the Pardy home! Josh has accepted the position of Director of Admissions and Marketing at Crean Lutheran High School in Irvine, CA, just about 25 miles from where we live now. Not only are we excited for him to transition into a new position that will be exciting and challenging, but the best news to us is that this change will also allow me the luxury of being a stay-at-home-mom! Woohoo! Double promotion for us!

This has been a prayer on our hearts ever since we knew we were pregnant the first time around. I knew that it was unlikely I would be able to stay home when we had our first child, but we continued to be hopeful and prayerful as we worked towards this goal. It was insanely heart-wrenching to have to leave my baby at home in the (albeit, utmost and best) care of another. Especially in the early days, it just ripped my heart out to hear her scream as I had to walk out the door. There is nothing like that feeling, and I will never missthose kind of mornings having to depart from her. Even now, my heart leaps out of my chest if she is clawing at me like a little koala bear and I have to hand her over...those mornings are rare, but they are still torture. What can I say - I miss her! I want to be home with her! And so, it is with full joy and gratitude that I am counting the days until I get to stay....all day...all week...all the time. I can't even fathom it.
This day is a long time coming. Not only have I hoped for it in the last 18 months since Matilda's birth, but truly all my life. All the women in my family have been able to stay at home to raise their children. I've been in awe of them for years, exposed to the life that I had to view as only luxury, a goal just out of reach. This is not to say that my life as a working mother hasn't been equally fulfilling or even that I haven't reaped loads of lessons from the balancing act that it is. Indeed, it has taught me a world about appreciating the time I get with my baby as well as how to maintain relationships and interests outside of the home. I'm also thankful that having to work outside the home forced me to take leaps beyond my comfort zone - learning to trust others to care for my child, trusting God to be in control of it all in His timing, and struggling to keep all the balls in the air between home life and work life chaos. I'm also walking away from this job with the utmost respect for those mothers who have to continue working to support their family (you can do it!) while I still honestly struggle to understand those mothers out there who make the choice not to stay home even if they can afford to (this is certainly an individual choice - I'm just saying it is very difficult for me to understand!) All that to say - I can't wait!

Certainly, this new chapter in life will not come without its days of challenge. I have no grandiose expectations of acquiring limitless "free time" or "me time" or staying in my pajamas all day (though, no promises on that one in the early days). In my head, I would love to admit to the fact that I dream of a house that is tidy, orderly, and consistently perfectly maintained in Mary Poppins fashion, with a home cooked Barefoot Contessa meal on the table every night, exquisitely garnished with herbs I grew myself. Okay, so maybe my dreams are a bit farfetched. But, there is also the practical and realistic side to me that knows there will be days when the absolute highlight of my day is when I got that spit-up stain out of the onesie, I'm ordering pizza on the phone in one hand and pulling my child down from climbing the curtains in the other, and how I measure my motherly success based on the sheer fact that my children are still alive and breathing when their father gets home from work.

Ah, the beauty of motherhood. Is there any more unpredictable job than this? I feel so honored that the Lord has blessed me with this new title of "stay at home mom". To me, I'm delighted to feel that I've hit the ceiling in my career. I just can't imagine anything better than this.

Whoa, Baby!

Ok, I'm back. I don't know exactly what's been keeping me from blogging, but my mind has been totally exhaustified (new word!) by life and baby and toddler and...well, my new friend the Kitchen Aid mixer which is filling my time and my tummy with all kinds of yummy concoctions (HOW have I lived so long without one of these suckers?) Anywho...I'm back. Today's topic: how I am fully convinced I'm carrying a scurry of squirrels in my belly.

Baby movement.

Now, I've heard crazy stories from mothers in the past. "I'm carrying David Beckham", "It's like there's an alien in there" and so on and so forth. I mean, this is not the first time I have experienced a creature growing inside me, kicking about to let the world know who is in there. Matilda was a mover, sure. I never had ANY trouble on the "kick counts" and she would often stick her foot out in response to me pressing in on my belly. But it was sweet, joyful....normal.

This new baby girl is, well, violent. Incessant sessions of acrobatic wonders are happening in there. Full body rolls that make you swear an ugly sea creature is going to burst through my belly button at any second. Freaky. Disturbing. Albeit wondrous, but...heavens to betsy, child! This baby can MOVE!

I felt Matilda's first flutters at 14 weeks, and that was pretty early for a first baby. This one I felt at 12 weeks, though I wasn't too surprised since they say you can often feel the second one move sooner (you know what you're actually feeling this time around!) And it hasn't stopped since.

Now in my third trimester, she is nearly fully developed and just "packing on the fat" (though critical development is still taking place - so, stay in there baby!) she is starting to run out of room in there. Evidently this does not suit her growing Pardy-gene-pool "monkey" arms and legs (thanks to her daddy, that is). And so, particularly in the evenings and nights, we get a good freak show (no tickets required) of my belly imitating a giant wave pool. Sometimes it shimmies. Sometimes it looks like the tectonic plates are surely shifting in there, causing an amniotic tsunami. Sometimes it looks like a caged spider monkey fighting to get free.

If it wasn't so incredibly marvelous to stare at, it would just plain hurt. Whew!

Yes, we are sure there is only one baby in there.

Yes, we are sure she is not an octopus.

No, we are not sure we are ready to keep up with her.

Baby, if your spirit and personality are any reflection of your movement, then I am excited to meet you and be inspired by your feisty lil self.

Somebody hand me a Gatorade.