A Running Collection

Wow. Here we are. Still admiring the side view, still thinking tonight is the night. Still pondering, dreaming, reading books with the children, waddling from room to room, tiding EVERYTHING, EVERY night before bed, and living in a bright orange pair of old Umbro shorts as long as no one but us is around. This passage is long and, I must admit, most draining. I honestly didn't think we would get to this point, so, although being late isn't abnormal, I feel abnormal. Every contraction grabs my attention. Every movement -- does the same. Very little can take my mind off of this process. Sleep deprived some nights, banking sleep others, I wonder how this will play out and there is simply no way of knowing. I've lost trust, worked on having trust, lost joy, gained it back. Lost patience, searched my heart for more, and found I am so very very dependent on strength that is not my own. Oh how I want to meet our child. I want to feel skin, hear cries, see a face, and ears and toes...

Costumes. George Wilder loves costumes. He would rather be in a costume than in regular clothes. His imagination is so vivid. We just peeled off Winnie the Pooh, which he wore for 48 straight hours. He was determined to be a jet for Halloween, but he also wanted to wear a few other pieces with the jet costume. He was basically a red knight jet. He loved it. He flew everywhere. Amelia, our bird lover, wanted to dress up as a turkey vulture – and so the turkey vulture costume was born. She studied pictures of turkey vultures on the internet. She drew pictures of them. She gave specific directions into the making of her costume. My mind couldn’t quite grasp what this turkey vulture would look like, but I made some wings, we had bunches of black feathers and black clothes and painted her face. It looks nothing like a bird face. Within minutes, she fell and had tears running down her cheeks. A few more minutes passed and her dangling tooth fell out. Bloody mouthed and smeared with pai...