Well, it took 28+ hours of back-breaking labor, but Chelsea did superbly and delivered our 7 pound 7 ounce 
Today (8/31/10) we brought our happy little girl home. Mother and baby are adjusting to their new way of life very well, and I have jumped back into my 13 credits of graduate coursework. (I write this with a homework still awaiting my attention.) 
We promise to post more pictures here in the near future, till then, we thank you for you support!
Sam
We were introduced to a new “sport” last Sunday. Slacklining. I’d never heard of such a thing until a couple of Sam’s lab partners invited us to join them at Lake Raleigh on Sunday afternoon.
This is Alex making it look easy.
So it’s easy, right? Not so much. The guys pulled a nylon strap, about 1 1/2 inches wide, as taught as they could between two posts. The contestants hop on, balancing themselves while trying to bounce or shake each other off. The trouble is, once you actually get both feet off the ground and onto that little bit of ribbon, your legs wobble and you shake uncontrollably. It really is amazing how it happens in spite of all your focused concentration, use of every conceivable balancing position, and a gritting of the teeth. Let’s throw in exclamations of disbelief, too…as though that really negates physics. 
Oh, and while you are expending all of your mental and core muscle energies just trying to stay on, your admiring compatriots are beaning you with hacky sacks.
I tried my feet at it a couple of times (the challenge is quite addicting), but Sam wasn’t so keen on the “two” of me possibly pitching to the ground. So instead I got a kick out of watching, snapping pictures, joining slyly in the “beaning”, and was burnt to a crisp.
A new attempt. And they decided to scrap this one.
Now we know what we’ll be setting up once we return to Virginia!
“You’re sure, right?”
Yes, the ultrasound nurse was absolutely sure and “hadn’t been wrong yet'”, though Tiny insisted on flipping, kicking and stretching for a while, keeping the nurse busy following those 11oz around trying to get a good look.
Sam’s and my inklings, Leah’s inklings, Susannah’s more-than-inklings, and many others’ inklings were all true! In less than four months we’ll be bringing home a little GIRL!!!! Yahoo! We’re thrilled to bits! So would you like to see her?
I confess I’ve never gone into raptures over friends’ ultrasound pictures. Is that bad? But I guess it’s the future mom in me that says, “Awwww”, and thinks Tiny is cute. :-)
Her little mouth is open….
This one is a bit difficult to make out, but can you see her little face? The forehead is dark, the nose is white and one eye is fairly well defined…for a fuzzy ultrasound picture at least.
At 20 weeks and 5 days, Tiny is asserting her little figure more and more and slimming down my wardrobe. Waistbands and I are rarely on speaking terms and maternity shirts are my new best friends.
Happy “Mamma”, and happy “Dad” who has regular chats with the bump. I have a feeling that Sam won’t have to wait for a boy….Tiny and he will be in cahoots together, blowing things up in the backyard…and very soon.
Today is the day!!!!!!!!!!! The day I have waited for…..I should say patiently. That is what “they” say in the books. The hero or heroine is the epitome of sweet forbearance and patient submission to events that transpire, working tirelessly for the good…always. Um, maybe that’s why it never crossed anyone’s mind to use me as inspiration for a heroine.
Mine was a wait of nearly unbearable impatience, trying not to fuss at slowly moving days and plodding, meandering minutes. But in just a few minutes, Sam and I will drink in Tiny’s form on that monitor and I can stop bouncing about impatiently and begin bouncing about with new excitement and energy. Let the fun begin! (And let me drag out all of my patterns, yarn and fabric.)
Peter: highly animated over my camera as I sat snapping shots of his cute little face. Training in camera fascination—courtesy of Uncle Joe….%20-%20Copy%5B5%5D.jpg "DSC_0011 (2) - Copy")
We didn’t realize how wiped out little Joshua was until Trina finished fixing his lunch plate and we turned around to behold this…
The classic bath in the kitchen sink!
Mikey: fascinated with his toes these days….
And joining the ranks soon is our very own little person! Poor Tiny looked like an alien at 13 weeks and 2 days. I am 16 weeks today, so that weensy little form now looks a bit more promising…well, the books would have me think so. During my first ultrasound, Sam and I sat drinking in image of the wriggling tiny life inside me, waving it’s tiny arms and legs about and hearing the strong rapid heartbeat brought tears to my eyes. Since the exhaustion and nausea of the first trimester had mostly subsided by this first doctor’s visit, I had begun to have silly niggling doubts that it was all in my head. But there really is a baby in there, moving and growing, and we’re going to meet our “Tiny” in just 5 months! What a thrill! Methinks, Ruth and Jason, and Sam and I may have the three musketeers on our hands next year. Let the games begin!
“Sad, sad girl! I don’t know when I shall have done scolding you!” Mansfield Park
Shame, shame, shame on me for neglecting this poor little blog! I didn’t mean to, really I didn’t. It’s blank pages were always in my thoughts, haunting me with their expanse of white space. I’m afraid I must confess that I fell into my “journal trap”; that inconvenient state of mind that insists on the perfect entry and instigates gaping emptiness months long. Sometimes I wonder if I actually killed the perfectionist of my childhood…certain days of my life seem to insinuate that those fussy bones lie in waste…dust and ashes. But no, ‘dem dry bones sat up and perfectionism reared it’s impertinent little head and whispered, “Oh, but you must wait until the perfect time to think and plan and write. You don’t have the hours required to do justice to that conversation or adequately describe that event.” Stuff and nonsense, I say now, though I did listen to said impertinent head for far too long. Such is often the fate of my journals and so it began with my blog. But no more! And I offer my deepest, most humble apology and will commence again.
You know what this means, don’t you? If I post these “before” pictures, then I am thus forced, on pain of lasting embarrassment to post the “afters”.
Since Sam uses the second bedroom as his office, I claimed the tiny study as my craft room and was blissfully happy
to at last have the freedom to make a crafty mess and not squelch inspiration by having to put everything away. Those among you who are avid sewers and crafter simply must agree with that logic. For some sad reason, I seem to accomplish the best work in the midst of a fabric, paper, pin, pen, thread, fuzz explosion. So now that I’ve confessed through thousand word photos that crafts took a back seat to living, and the study became a dumping ground for moving mess, I have to organize, which is not my strong suit.
Oh, to leave the bothersome topic of organizing, I have a tiny hat! It’s ever so cute. And my friend, Rachel, taught me how to knit (for real this time) so I actually understood what I was doing, unlike my previous attempts to desperately follow directions with absolutely no comprehension. I am very excited over my ever-so-cute hat and can’t wait to start another!
As much as I’d like to think happy thoughts about another tiny hat, I must be off to attack the mess!
Chelsea
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