Growing on the Farm: Nothing About It

We started the month with one last Easter celebration at my Grandpa and Grandma's house. It was the perfect day, filled with family, sunshine, and candy.

The highlight of the last few weeks has been celebrating 4 years of this cool kid!

I was persistent that we were not going to have a Paw Patrol birthday. I didn't think I could bring myself to do it. But then I realized that this was Trevin's last birthday as an only child. He needed a party all about him. And right now, that means Paw Patrol. (Also, Party City did the work for me. Coming from an 8-month pregnant woman, that was the most exciting part.)

Ashton made the cupcakes for me (a huge help!) and I tried my hand at a piping bag for the first time. I started off with something easy enough to boost my confidence.

All the decorations are still up. I don't know that Trevin will ever let me take them down. "Welcome to our Paw Patrol themed basement."

The popcorn bar was a hit!

We were so grateful for all the friends and family that helped us celebrate Trevin.

Sometimes throwing a birthday party when you're 8 months pregnant can make you go a little crazy. Thankfully, I was on the verge of insanity already, so it didn't affect me too much.

We took a trip to the park on his birthday and played at home with all his cool new toys. And then there was this moment, when Trevin tried to dive off the play equipment and Ashton successfully caught him.

Last week Trevin saw a picture of Darius Rucker and asked if it was John the Baptist. I don't really know what to do with that, but I'm still laughing.

His new favorite phrase is, "Nothing about it." I'm not sure what he thinks he's saying, but he responds with this line 25% of the time when asked a question. "Trevin, what are you doing?" "Nothing about it." "Trevin, do you want to come with me?" "Nothing about it." Now he has me saying it.

At 37 weeks pregnant, there's been some days where I've not felt great. One morning I said to him, "Trevin, I'm not feeling awesome today." His response, "You could play with me, then you'd be awesome."

One day I noticed Trevin was acting suspicious. I was in the kitchen and he took the long way around to the hallway so I wouldn't see him. (I noticed, of course, because I am a hawk.) I turned around and asked him what he was doing. Instantly, he jumped and claimed he wasn't doing anything. He had his hands behind his back, so I assumed he found some candy or something that he was trying to sneak to his room. I demanded that he show me what was in his hands, he refused several times before finally showing me. Friends, it wasn't candy. He had a booger on his finger. I asked him where he was taking it and he replied, "To my bed!" "Why are you taking it to your bed?!" "Because I have to put it in the screw hole." I lost all color in in my face and said those two horrifying words, "Show me." That was the longest walk down the hall. I didn't know what I was going to find; well I had a good guess, but I was praying that I was wrong. Sure enough, there's a screw hole on the frame of his bed that he had a nice pile of boogers in. I don't know how long this has gone on. Decades maybe. To say I was "grossed out" would be putting it mildly. I mean this kid was so dedicated that he was going to walk past 3 trash cans and a toilet just to take it to the screw hole. Nothing about it. (sigh)

Regardless of the boogers and tantrums, this kid has been the biggest blessing in our lives. It is unbelievable to me that he is four. This birthday has hit me the hardest of all. It's the last birthday he'll have as an only child. These are the last days of him being my baby. Soon he's going to be promoted to big brother and things are going to change drastically. I'm thrilled to watch him thrive in his new role, but my tender mama-heart wants to hold him close and not let anything change. I love his goofy stories, his crazy hair, his giggle, and his curiosity. He's a great helper and a has a strong personality. He sleeps great, chooses not to eat, and bath time always turns into WWIII. He's learning to write his name and recognizes numbers and letters. He loves fishing, farming, and playing outside. He loves being read to and is learning new things every day. He gives me kisses whenever I want and lets me snuggle him. He made me a mom. I can't wait to see who he will become, but I'm going to desperately miss the boy I have today.

I was checked at my appointment last week; I've started thinning and have dilated 1.5 cm. I'll get checked again tomorrow, hopefully I've made even more progress this week. Bags are packed, carseat is ready, labor playlist is made (If James let's me listen to Can't Feel My Face, Midnight Rider, Worth It, and Feels Like the First Time, while I give birth to our daughter.) Really, I'm just twiddling my thumbs waiting for some contractions. I've been drinking red raspberry leaf tea, which has helped bring on some Braxton Hicks. I'm still adamant that I won't be pregnant in May, but I may have sold myself on that a little too early.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you that have been praying for my SPD! After 3 trips to the chiropractor and one intense massage, I'm practically pain free! I've had a little soreness in the last week, but the sharp pain has vanished. I feel like I'm 6 months pregnant and not 8.5. It's been a huge relief and been much more enjoyable! I'm still seeing the chiropractor every week to keep that pelvis locked in place. The first several times it cracked hard when he adjusted me, but yesterday it adjusted much easier and without pain. I'm so grateful to be able to walk without waddling. (Maybe I'm still waddling, but I'm 8.5 months pregnant; there's no way around that.)