we're not having any fun at all

Mom needed a photo of my profile a few weeks ago. Rob decided she needed one of his too. We both decided to act like it was one of those "tasteful nude pregnancy" shots, which, when you think about it, is pretty much a contradiction in terms.

So are we.

love my job

Today I got one of the very highest compliments this editor can receive:

"I enjoy working with you. I've had another editor this winter 'hijack' my story, changing my 'voice' to his. You just fix enough to make me look intelligent, but keep my 'voice' and bad jokes."

I've said it before and I'll say it again: good editors exist to make authors look better. It's a privilege to be considered a good editor.

he got the desire of his heart

The Tale of Three Trees always makes me cry. ALWAYS. I read it to Blake tonight for his bedtime story and got all choked up, and of course he's at an age where he can be deeply concerned by this, wrapping his arms around me tightly to reassure and console me.

It's such a lovely story. One tree grows with the goal of being used for a treasure chest, one grows to be used as a mighty ship for kings, one simply wants to be the tallest tree in the world so that folks will see her and lift their eyes to heaven and think of God. The first is chopped down and made into a manger. The second, a humble fishing boat. The third, a cross. I think you might be able to see where this is going. The manger holds the greatest Treasure the world has ever known. The second has a passenger who stops a violent storm with one word and knows he is carrying the King of heaven and earth. And when people see the third tree, they think of God.

I guess it makes me cry because of the tenderness and love that are woven through the story, though not specifically mentioned. God knows the desires of my heart and how to answer them better than I do. His answers may not look the way I imagined... they can be even better, albeit at times more painful.

In semi-related news, we had a very big day yesterday. The three of us went to court. I was sworn in and had to testify on the witness stand. Both Rob and Blake were asked if they agreed with the order. They answered yes, Blake's name was legally changed, and we all went out to celebrate at IHOP before dropping B off at school. We're all Bedfords now, and the only thing that made the dressing up, hair combing, and speaking to a judge even remotely worth it for Blake was the promise of IHOP. He had almost come to tears at my description the night before and what would be expected of him ("And the judge might ask you a few questions, but it will be okay - Dad and I will be right there with you. They'll probably be really easy questions."), and he said he didn't want to go.

Baffled, I reassured him lavishly, and said, "Well, you have to - that's part of the deal. But Dad and I wanted to take you out for IHOP afterwards, and if you don't go, I'm not sure we can still do that." He quickly suppressed a smile through his watery eyes and bounced up: "I heard they are giving away Lorax seeds. I really hope that they come with pancakes and that I can get some and grow them. But I don't think it's REALLY a Lorax seed. I bet they're seeds to something else. THIS IS GOING TO BE THE BEST DAY EVER! My very first time at IHOP!!"

added bonus: got to teach B how to use the plunger last night

I just installed a toilet seat. It was remarkably easy, so of course I'm now convinced I could be a plumber...

if only I didn't have to deal with other people's poop and pee and everything.

thoughts, not fears

Despite the post below, I AM able to cope and function really very well. It's only those brief moments of nonactivity that my imagination runs away with me. Please know, dear friends, that I am not living under a shadow of fear. I'm rather furiously, unapologetically happy most of time, truth be told, but especially after a hot shower.

• Spring break ended with a colossal snow storm, naturally. We're still in Bozeman, after all. 
• At least during a break in the storm, I saw my first robin of "spring" today! It even snagged a worm from an exposed portion of windswept dirt yard.
• I am deeply suspicious of otherwise delicious-looking concoctions by Breyer's. There are some varieties that look like they are on super-steriods of delectability, but if you look closely, they're called "Frozen Dairy Dessert," not "Ice Cream." Now, I didn't work at two different ice cream stores one summer for nothing (people thought I was twins): I have standards. I don't put "Frozen Dairy Dessert" in my shopping cart or in my mouth. Neither should you.
• I'm pretty sure that Fudgsicles are not "Frozen Dairy Dessert," but something too delicious to categorize adequately. 
• I visited my electrolysist today, in my now year-long effort to eradicate stray hairs from, uh, places (like my chin). Based on the lack of sprouting in the six weeks since I was last in, she declared that I'm having a girl. Because I'm so comparatively less hairy. I'm not sure how to feel about that.
• Tomorrow includes a glucose test (with a sickly sweet beverage that I have to guzzle in fewer than five minutes, but at least I can have it on ice and with a straw) and a doctor's appointment. I plan to bring up my suspicion that I have a stealthy UTI, because I don't care how pregnant I am, I'm tired of having to go to the bathroom ALL THE TIME. Braxton-Hicks contractions are also occurring with more regularity than I remember with Blake, and this time, they hurt. Being pregnant at 32 is not the same as it was at 24, I guess.
• Rob, Mr. No-Feeling-in-His-Palms, had a hand on my side a few days ago (at my insistence) and kept stubbornly not feeling anything until he suddenly jumped back as if burned. "OH WOW, I FELT THAT!" he said, as I winced "PUSH BACK ON IT, THAT HURTS!" and pressed down on the angular elbow or heel that apparently wanted to free itself from my abdomen.
• I've hit the ice chewing stage of pregnancy. Rotten ice at the end of a cold glass of water is so good to me right now! I alternate between wanting to jump into the icy glass for the refreshing jolt of cold or crawl on top of our wood-burning stove to bask in the warmth.
• The take-away: pregnancy is such a magical time. Our bodies are so weird.

irrational fear is irrational and since when does pregnancy make one rational?

I have a prayer request. I'm struggling with irrational fear for this baby I'm carrying, though I can usually push it aside so long as I'm pushing back on the sharp little elbows and heels that keep digging into my sides. I didn't feel the baby move for almost two hours this morning, which is unusual (that's typically a pretty active time for the wee), and I found my heart gripped with fear and anxiety that something had happened, and the baby had died.

The root fear I struggle with is that all of my pregnancies will end with death.

I'm not fearful for Rob's or Blake's lives, but I am scared for this baby in a way that is a stronghold for me. I need to speak the fear to take away its power (I don't believe in jinxes, but it feels very very wrong to state that root fear), I need to tell others so they can be praying for me, and I need to be more intentional about praying God's Word over my heart and child.

Would you please join me with that? I don't want to give Satan a foothold, and I don't want to be paralyzed every time a certain small person decides to take a nap at an unusual time of day for them. This morning was really frightening, but thankfully, worship practice seemed to wake the little biscuit up and set my mind back at ease. I've been pushing back on sharp little elbows and heels the rest of today. Even when that's uncomfortable, it's incredibly reassuring.

now calling baby "the wee leprechaun"

A: Kiss me, I'm Irish!
R: Oh yeah? You gotta little Irish in ya?
A: No, I'm English and German. BUT (grabbing my belly) I gotta little Bedford in me!

arts and crafts

Just got back from a side job I took over during Reese's maternity leave, cleaning an enormous house that starts out already clean. Naomi and I go every other week, and I need to get in the habit of cleaning MY house from 9-12 on the off weeks, because I come home painfully aware that it needs it, but with no energy left to even contemplate the chore. However, the extra money is going towards a new bed, and I'm ridiculously excited about the prospect of a better night's sleep. My house will just have to stay a bit unkempt for the time being, and I'm okay with that!

He was getting ready to go outside and just being goofy-cute. Seriously, that little elfin face is too much!

Watching small children eat corn on the cob is enormously entertaining to me. Always has been.

Blake asked to go outside, and though he began by throwing snowballs at me through the dining room window, he soon disappeared from the back yard. I went looking for him and found this out the front door.

Industrious little fella. I think he needs a wider shovel.

More recently (the snow comes and goes, but mostly goes), Rob and Blake and their orange R/C car on the sidewalk, enjoying one of the many mild days we've had this "winter."

As promised, here are photos of the results of my "crafternoon," a phrase stolen from Matt's sisters. I fell down the Pinterest rabbit hole and kept seeing things on the home page (I do not have my own account, nor do I want one - I'm afraid I'd never get ANYTHING done). "I could make that! I could make that too!" 

Two trips to Jo-Ann later...

A Valentine wreath for the little birthday party Rob threw for me. It was too windy to hang outside without it being completely stripped of feathers, so I put it in the window. One green floral wreath, two boas, white satin ribbon, a pretty button, and voila!

Originally from Martha Stewart, my friend Jody made these and inspired me. One day later they were in four columns of overlapping hearts. That's what I get for putting them in a window with a heat vent immediately below them: a tangled mess. Also, Martha is a big cheater who clustered a ton in one very small window pane, giving it a fuller look than reality affords.

Nesting (or at least annoyance at bare walls and full boxes) has kicked in. This is the before shot of a wall in the dining area.

And the after. I've had these prints matted for a LONG time, but only recently framed them. I have two calendars full of more like them, each showcasing a different national park or historic landmark, and the graphic lines and vibrant colors just make me happy. These (Glacier and Zion) join the other two I've had framed for quite some time (Great Smoky Mountains and Yellowstone), that are in the living room.

Dan and Erin sent this Spiderman poster to Blake about a year ago. It hung on Dan's bedroom wall when HE was growing up, so I put it in a poster frame to use as a headboard for B. The other stuff is just me putting other stuff on the walls.

I have a few projects still in process, as I've discovered boxes of things we'd removed from the walls in the condo in preparation to sell. Figuring out how to display a collection of family photos (and filling in a few blanks, since families have grown since I took them all down!) and a collection of crosses is my current head scratcher. When I have those figured out, I'll post them too!

birthday boy, one month late

We went to Billings over Blake's seventh birthday and brought the twins with us to help celebrate. Grampa Steve came down from Plentywood, and we all hit the Reef for some swimming (no photos of the pregnant lady in the swimsuit, please). Blake is FINALLY tall enough to ride the water slides, and we pretty much didn't see him from then on, unless we managed to catch him on the way up the tower to go down in a double inner tube with one of us. 

Grammie Monie has a pellet pistol, so all the boys had some turns plinking away with it.

Mason is the shooter. You can tell because that other boy, the one in camouflage and Carhartt's? Yeah... he never wears anything else. Ever. Seriously, that is how you can tell who is Smith and who is Mason at this juncture in their lives.

I think the trigger was very hard for the younger boys to pull.

A full view of what they were shooting: that's one of Mom's frying pans suspended from the swing set. The pellets made a satisfying "plink!" when there was a direct hit, so the kids knew when they had nailed it and when they had missed.

Opening presents. He was a very kind young man this year and asked for ice cream sandwiches instead of a cake or cupcakes. EASY-PEASY!

One of his favorite shirts now, I usually have to remind him that he can only wear it twice a week, preferably not one day after the next, after having used it for his jammies as well.

Grampa Steve brought a package of three clear cars, each with an LED ball in the center, complete with sticker decals. The boys were in HEAVEN, and each had help peeling the very thin decals off the paper they came on. It was brilliant.

He loves his Grampa.

We had plans for a crafternoon (results revealed in my next post), but then a package arrived from Aunt Erin and Uncle Dan-O, and he begged off helping me make anything so he could build Hagrid's Hut. Shortly thereafter, we started reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone at bedtime, and he wants to grow his hair long and shaggy and be Harry for Halloween. He's also stolen one of my chopsticks to use as his wand.

come to find out that while he loves sushi, he didn't realize it was raw fish

While at dinner the other night (I couldn't bring myself to cook anything and Blake requested sushi).

B: Hey! This is you spin me right round!
A: Too bad there's no room to dance. Oh! We could table d- I mean, we could dance at our table!
B: Maybe I could make MONEY from my dancing.
A: Oh my gosh.

belly shot + b & g

I was a big meanie who said no to video games on this foray.

Blake's b-ball skills really picked up during a few short weeks.

He didn't run down court so much as he danced. Really.

Making sure I'm watching.

Gunnar, one of his best friends. The two constantly conspire to get to the other's house after church.

Better, but still fake smiles.

Gunnar, his brother Toby, and B: all B wanted for a birthday party was this.
They got to play video games for FOUR HOURS and thought it was simply delightful.

Same scene, from the front.

There. I've finally got something to show off.
I feel cute so far, not yet puffy, swollen, or exhausted...
though I start the third trimester on Saturday.
HOW SCARY IS THAT?!