The List.

I’m 24 weeks. I look 42 weeks. Maybe by the time I’m 42 weeks I’ll look 24 weeks. Or maybe I won’t hit 42 weeks. Either would be ok. So long as I don’t look 42 weeks at a week or so postpartum. Now that would be depressing.

I bought K4 curriculum for Sterling today. He’s thrilled. His dream is to read a book all by himself. Next up: the world.

I’ve started making lists. I bought a white board that has a new home on our kitchen counter and every night, provided I’m on top of things, I make a list of the things we need to accomplish the next day. Jobs, appointments, whatever I want to accomplish, gets written on the list for the day. Things I usually forget I wanted to do are finally getting done. If they don’t get done, they get moved to the next day. And the next. The watermelon? Cut before it was overripe, because it made The List. Charlotte’s sheets put back on her bed? That got moved to the next day’s List. A few times. But now? She has clean sheets. And I don’t have to move it to tomorrow’s List. Again. Amazing.

We have a few new barnyard animals. Four, to be exact. I’ll get my camera out there and share the details soon. As soon as it makes it to my List. Wouldn’t want to get ahead of myself, you know.

High-class entertainment. Country style.

Baby Girl, how you’ve grown.

Charlotte Serenity – she's

8 months old now.She loves her siblings…

and toys. She really loves toys. A lot.

Beautiful baby girl – full of personality. Determination. And spunk. Loads of spunk.

Birthday documentary.

Thank you for that reminder. I needed it.

Once a week, I get an email from BabyCenter.com to tell me what’s going on with Baby’s development. It’s a good thing. I forget how far along I am horribly with this baby. Something about five other babies to take care of seems to make me lose track of time. I just know I have four months left – because Charlotte’s 8 months now. It’s a good thing I have that reminder… Oh, poor baby. I really cannot wait to meet you. It’s just a little crazy around here. You’ll find out soon enough.

Baby Center tells me that since Baby can hear well now, sounds like the dog barking and the lawn mower that it hears now won’t faze Baby once it’s here. Wonder if the kids screaming through the house can be included in that list of things that won’t faze it? Probably.

I’m 23 weeks today, by the way. Baby Center says so.

Plural? Singular? Huh what?

Sterling was trying to explain the method I ought to use to help him out… “Just grab three squares of toilet paper (Can you tell we’ve had to establish some boundaries in this department?) and wipe between my two butts.” “Between what?” “I’m not sure, Mom. Between these two things.” Ok, got it. “Did I do a good job?” “Yep, I think so. Thanks Mom!” Oh, that boy. He makes me laugh.

Last night, Blaine hung up the tent on the clothesline. It was still there when I went to milk the goat this morning. Then as we backed out of the driveway to go to church, we saw the tent. On the roof. Windy morning, you think?

I found one of Sterling’s birthday gifts – still in the cupboard, hiding, unopened. Perfect. Start the stash for next year or give it to him sheepishly?

Tonight’s a backyard campout in the tent. Provided Blaine climbs onto the roof to get it – much to Eden’ disappointment. I think she’d rather sleep on the roof.

Liberty cleaned the sliding glass door. She asked if I saw it cleaned. I said I hadn’t, headed for it, and was informed, “It’s probably dirty by now. That was yesterday. It never stays clean for a whole day.” Oh, dear girl. Painful, yet true.

If it smells like a….

Charlotte’s been drinking goat’s milk since I became pregnant again and can’t supply her with what she needs. Now, when she poops, it smells like a goat. When she pees, she smells like a goat. When she spits up, it smells like a goat –and, bonus, looks like goat cheese. And when she cries, it sounds… like a baby. Whew.