Running . . .

no more for me.

This pregnant mama had an ultrasound at 28 weeks that showed baby head down. Yay!

Then a prenatal appointment a week later and baby was heads up. Boo.

Clearly all the gymnastics I have been feeling really are somersaults, as I had thought. Baby Libby will be headed to the Summer Olympics in 2028.

So I talked to my midwife. And in the interests of encouraging baby to go head down and stay that way this time around, I am going to cease and desist running and any other impact-y things, and increase my yoga and walking.

And I hope John survives this pregnancy, because the mean-pregnant-wife factor has increased exponentially since I stopped running just shy of 29 weeks. Yoga is great and all, but as any runner knows it is just not the same thing.

Here's what else is different about yoga. When you go for a run you can just throw your kid in the jogging stroller and go. When you attempt to do a yoga video with your 22-month old in the same vicinity you end up yelling a lot and saying things like:

"Stop stepping on my arm! I mean it, no more stepping on Mommy's arm!"

"I will get you a snack when this is over . . ."

"Don't touch the computer!"

(and 2 minutes later)

". . . if I get you some raisins will you play quietly and stop fussing?"

"Don't touch the computer!"

"Go play with dollie/puppy/teddy/tea set/little people/whatever else I can think of!"

"No, you may not jump on the furniture while Mommy does yoga . . . or ever!"

"DON'T TOUCH THE COMPUTER!"

A forty minute video would be an hour and a half, if you actually paused it for each interruption. So when I say I am now doing more yoga and walking, what I actually mean is, I am doing prenatal yoga about once a week and walking three or four times a week. At least the walking is happening!

Today's walk was actually kind of a speed-walking trot in flipflops and totally non-workout clothes, or at least the way home was. Or as much of a speed-walking trot as it can be when in flip-flops. (FYI, not the most brilliant shoe choice when dealing with raging sciatica.) Sophia and I had to race the rain home as I had taken the camera along. Of course, then it didn't rain at all, but how could I know that it wouldn't when we were over a mile from home and thunderous looking clouds were rolling in?!

At any rate, I may not have made it to 32 weeks, which was my original goal, but I ran for longer than I did when pregnant with Sophia. 29 weeks vs. 25 (and if I remember right, that 25 might be a generous estimate). And if I can avoid a C-section this time as is our aim with a home birth, then I can start running again when I want to, rather than waiting a specified time per the doctor. I was craving going for a run at about 4 weeks post with Sophia, but it was forbidden. This time around, I'll run when I want to! And then John can have his pleasant wife back.

Life in pictures

Alright, since I already gave in before, here is a (belated) belly picture from two weeks ago when I was 27 weeks.

Yay, onto the third trimester! Time is dwindling to get my "to-do" list done before baby arrives . . . said list keeps getting shorter and shorter, not because I am accomplishing anything, but because I am getting more realistic. Now I'll pretty much be happy if I can just get the baby quilt finished and stock the freezer with some food.

I'm not all about talking about Sophia's various health ailments on my blog, but had to include these pictures. She is so funny, she always calls her nebulizer her "treatment," and helps put the elastic around her head. See the train nebulizer? They were out of panda bears when we got hers.

Sophia had a bag of clothes from a friend sitting in the kitchen (for far too long, lazy mommy!), and one day she got into it, found the matching sneakers and swapped out the shoes she was already wearing to put these on. She was so proud, and so was I . . . got them on the right feet and fastened the velcro all by herself!

Miscellaneous fun with Sophia . . . she is our entertainment!

Sophia has her favorite corner of the kitchen where she takes her toys after breakfast and plays quietly (when I am very lucky!) while I eat breakfast. Although more often these days the play area is abandoned and a little midget follows me around the house asking "Walk? Outside?" instead.

Climbing . . . EVERYTHING!

And then once in a while when she climbs up she'll actually slide down, instead of going back down the stairs . . .

It just might . . .

take . . .

a minute . . .

Where does she get her adventuresome spirit from?

Sophia's Easter basket was "chalk" full of funsies rather than candy . . . the Snuggler and Dada put some of them to good use outside!

Thank God spring has sprung! We are loving being back outside, and if it were up to Sophia would spend 24 hours a day out and about on "walks." Methinks next week the ground will be dry enough to break out the new picnic blanket . . . more fun times a-comin'!

Keep those blog name suggestions coming . . . I do have a favorite name so far, but am going to take a little more time to think it over . . .

Best salad EVER!

As spring arrives for real and green appears outside, green makes a reappearance inside the Libby house as well. The green of salads for lunch and dinner, that is! All the pasta and soup comfort dishes of winter are pushed to the back of the recipe box, and out come salads of all varieties. Last night was Curry Chicken Salad (with toasted coconut and walnuts, yum!), and tonight is my very favorite salad . . . Bean and Barley Salad, served over green lettuce and spinach, with peach muffins on the side. Mmmm!

Bean and barley salad is my go-to for summer potlucks, and I have had many requests for this recipe . . . I'm sorry I keep forgetting to get the recipe out, here it is!

Of course, give credit where it is due, right? My co-worker brought the B&B salad in for her dinner and when I tried a nibble I had to have the recipe. And where did she get it from? Taste of Home magazine. What's funny is that on the same photocopied page there is an absolutely delicious sounding recipe for Chocolate Lover's Delight Cake, and I haven't even made it yet. That's how wonderful this salad is, it trumps buttermilk and melted German sweet chocolate in combination with 2 cups heavy whipping cream!

Without further ado:

Bean and Barley Salad

3/4 cup quick-cooking barley

1 can (16 oz.) kidney beans, rinsed and drained

1 can (15 oz.) black beans, rinsed and drained

1 can (11 oz.) whole kernel corn, drained

1 large sweet red pepper, finely chopped

6 green onions, chopped

1/3 cup minced fresh cilantro (I hate cilantro, so never put this in!)

Dressing:

3/4 cup olive oil (I use about 2/3 this amount)

1/3 cup red wine vinegar (I like balsamic better)

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 - 1/2 tsp chili powder

3/4 tsp salt

3/4 tsp ground cumin

1/4 to 1/2 tsp crushed red pepper flakes

1/4 tsp pepper

Prepare barley according to package directions. Transfer to a large bowl; stir in the beans, corn, red pepper, onions, and cilantro. In a small bowl, combine dressing ingredients. Pour over the salad; toss to coat. Chill until serving.

And another note from the blogger . . . this is a salad best made the day before or at least the morning of the day you are serving it . . . more time for the dressing to really soak in. Enjoy!

Crazy? I think not!

I started "babysitting" for the family that lived next door when I was eight years old. I say "babysitting" because it was more of a mother's helper role for the first few years. When I first started helping out, for $2 an hour, they had two little boys. By the time we moved away seven years later there were four boys and I was a full-fledged babysitter, making the then-high wage of $5 an hour.

I was a pretty mature little 8-year old, if I do say so myself, but over the years I have wondered if our neighbor (DB) wasn't a little crazy to have such a young kid playing mother's helper . . .

And now as a mother, I get it. And know that she wasn't crazy, she was a freakin' genius!

If she ever did leave the house it was to run to IGA right down the road, and my mother was right next door in case of an emergency. I don't know what DB did with most of her time when I was over, as we were usually outside playing, but I would guess it was a combo of catch-up with the house and some me-time. For $2 an hour, totally worth it!

My nieces and nephews live around the corner, my oldest nephew (R) is 10 going on 11, and now I am the one hiring a mother's helper. Last week I had R over for an hour to play with Sophia outside, and it was awesome! They played in our side yard so I could see them out the kitchen window. Meanwhile I got caught up on a massive pile of dishes, started dinner, and organized the bill/filing pile. My most productive hour in a long time!

Great deal for me, and great deal for Sophia. I went outside to check on them at one point, and know what they were doing? Sitting on the deck stairs . . . breaking bark.

Now, my tolerance for sitting on the steps and breaking up bark is definitely not as long as R's, so way more fun to do it with him. And as far as time goes, for once Sophia got to play outside as long as she wanted, and actually decided to come in on her own.

My parents are moving just around the corner this summer, so my youngest sister is going to be able to bike over . . . and she isn't just a mother's helper, but a legitimate babysitter! The timing couldn't be better with baby #2 on the way.

Amazing how your perspective changes with the arrival of a kid or two. The next door neighbor is no longer a lunatic, but a brilliant woman who knew the key to staying sane. May you all be so lucky as to live so close to a potential mother's helper!

Bedtime, and a conversation with the Snuggler

Several hours after putting her to bed last night, I could still hear the Snuggler talking in her crib upstairs. As many of you know from your own kids, still wakeful reason #1 is a poopy diaper, so up I went to check.

Me: "Hi sweetie. Why are you still awake? Do you have a poop?"

Snuggler: "Yes!"

M: "Well, let me check" . . . sniff bum . . . "Hmm, you don't smell poopy. Are you sure?"

S: "Quiet poop."

M: "Quiet poop?"

S: "Yes!"

John and I still are not sure what a quiet poop is versus, I don't know, a loud one? Especially since she didn't have one at all. But we're thinking that being awake for several hours after being put to bed multiple times a week equals needing to move bedtime a little later.

Sniff. (Tearful sniff, not the other kind that has already appeared in this post.) Goodbye, 6 o'clock bedtime. I am going to miss you!

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P.S. Where are the blog name suggestions, people! Does no one want to win the lemon bars?! Help a blogger out!