* So at about 3:57 a.m., I thought of the most hilarious story to tell on the ol' blog today. It was so funny, I couldn't help but chuckle as I blissfully laid on my stomach (an action never to be underestimated in it's glorious power). In fact, I thought I was so incredibly funny, I couldn't sleep until I plotted out the whole telling of the story. Unfortunately, or fortunately -- I am not sure -- I do not remember the story at all. The only thing I remember is that it was going to involve bullet points. For that reason and that reason alone, today we will converse in bullet points only.
* Do any of you ever want to say "Kapeesh" the way Uncle Jesse said it on 'Full House?' I don't even care if that is how it is spelled, because in my world, phonetics are where it is at. Back to the question. Did any of you love Uncle Jesse as much as I did? Did any of you plan on going on the road with the Beach Boys just because you were so obviously married to Uncle Jesse and life would involve Elvis impersonations and an incredibly rich genetic pool for your children? Anyone?... Anyone...
I think I hear crickets.
Either way, I sometimes want to say "Kapeesh" after a statement of cold hard fact. And I want to add a little Italian looking hand gesture, and scrunch my face up a little for effect. Does anyone else ever want to do that?
You don't have to answer now if you don't want to.
* I think I married someone with an incredibly rich genetic pool for my children. So thank you, Double B's parents. Well done. Well done, my friends.
* Little Katee is sleeping so soundly right now. She's bunched up in the cutest little ball. And I have put a very attractive little pink bow in her hair, because I'm just awesome like that. Even Olivia's hair is done today. It's like... It's like... I don't know. Like a big deal.
* You should see my house.
On second thought, you should not see my house. You wouldn't think of me the same way after that. You would maybe judge me and suspect me of being one of the dirty people who(m?) you don't dare use your nostrils around, lest you catch a whiff of something unpleasant. But I am not smelly. I showered. I just didn't clean my house. And I don't like living in dirtiness, it's just that I recently gave birth and I have to use that excuse for as long as humanly possible. I think it could last a month, at least. Maybe even a year. Or at least one month and one day. The bum thing about it is that I have to live in terror that anyone will come over and see the state of my house. But I just can't clean. I think it is a uterus-related malfunction. (P.S. I'm not ready to give up the free and legitimate usage of that word, either. Because it makes my beloved mate so very uncomfortable... therefore; I must use it as often as possible.)(Sorry.)
* I have been really blessed. This has been the smoothest post-partum experience of my whole motherhood career so far. Yes, I occasionally feel slightly insane or slightly blue, but not massively insane and not so-blue-I'm-almost-violet. I am so thankful for that! I also think I know the #1 physical reason for it: The Double B and I jointly made the decision that Katelyn would be a bottle-fed baby and I wouldn't try to nurse this time. I can't. even. tell. you. the difference that has made for me. I feel so much clearer in my head, and no desperation at all. Except maybe for a frozen hot chocolate. But not the unexplainable desperation I have felt in the past. It's been such a huge wonderful difference for me and us (as the Double B experiences the same thing in a way by having to live with me). I am so much of a better mom from that decision. And while I have adored each of my newborn babies, this time it's so much easier and just clearer for me. That's the only way to describe it. I feel so much more like the real Marie. Even my beloved sis-in-law, Trina, said she can see it's made a huge difference. And it has. I guess the reason I'm saying this -- and I'm not saying "do it this way" at all -- is that maybe somewhere in the universe there is someone who needs to hear that not breastfeeding really is okay and no one is going to get hurt if that's the right thing for you. So I share this personal story to that end. Amen.
* I think that might be a little strange that I told that story. But I'm leaving it, because dangit! We all face decisions in life, and sometimes it's hard not to just stick with the "status quo" (I put that in there so all of you with 'High School Musical' fans in your life will now be foreced to have that song in your head. You are welcome.). My point, Batman, is this: as long as you are doing your best to live the commandments as far as you understand them, then you are free to make whatever decision for your own life that you want. And now I am kicking a dead horse. Kick. Kickity-kick. Kick.
* Thing I have the hardest time with: loud noise. In fact, I would say that in that regard, I am like a doggy. It just ... grates ... on ... my ... eardrums. Poor K.J. and Olivia. To me they're yelling, to them they are whispering. And I think, just maybe, they might be right this time.
* K.J. can't wait for school! I repeat, K.J. can't wait for school!
* We decided to put Olivia in pre-school. 'Cause we got a smackin' good deal and it will just make her so happy. She has been carrying around her pre-school papers for two days straight. I feel like a Mommy duck preparing to send the ducklings off to the big pond. (Or something.) We all know Marie has school separation issues. Therefore; we will not get into it. What a waste of time that would be!
* Imagine you're listening to elevator music. I do that sometimes for fun.
* Olivia is wondering when I'm going to deliver the other baby. The Double B has really tried to pound it into her head that Katelyn is the baby and Mommy's tummy is just stretched out for awhile. He is so noble about it. I'm okay with it. What else is she supposed to think? It's a pretty strange lookin' little pooch after you've had Baby #3. I love my pooch. I embrace it. But not for all of eternity.
* I just finished the third installment of the 'Ender's Game' series of books. It is called 'Xenocide.' And talk about blah-diddy-blah-blah-blah. I loved the first two, but this one was like the worlds longest conversation ever in the history of mankind. Sigh. It took all my brain power, because it was just so philosophical and super-de-dooper deep. And we know how dangerous that is for Marie. I think it's time I go back to the land of Anita Stansfield for awhile. My mind... it hurt itself. It needs time to recover.
* P.S. I love Orson Scott Card. I really do. Don't think I don't.
* I am literally just writing what is going on in my head. Sorry about that. But it's like a purge, or something. Sort of like Marie's-Brain-Barf. Apparently I have a lot of nothingness just stored up and waiting to share! Thank you for listening, oh computer. It's just that I don't hear the overwhelming buzzing of late pregnancy anymore. Nope! I don't. Now there's just a slightly hollow sound when I knock on the side of my head.
* Katee's waking up. I have to finish up here, and I want to finish up with something mind-blowing in it's importance. Hm... Well, I was noticing today whilst reading Cjane's blog that I truly enjoy how she concludes each post with a sentence to sum her up that day. So that's what I'm going to do. Brace yourselves.
I am Marie and I just had possibly the cutest baby ever and I like bullet points and I think I might have a frozen hot chocolate tonight even though I still have 40 of my 61 pounds to lose but who cares right at this moment and I need to call my brother Matt 'cause I noticed on my pretend cell phone that he called earlier and I really love the freckles on the noses of my older children and really on anyone who is befreckled and also I really love run-on sentences and I embrace them in my life.