Vaginal birth not an option!

So did you read about the woman in Connecticut who gave birth to a 14 pound 13 ounce baby? Holy Lord! Thank God she had a c-section--could a vaginal birth have even been possible? Scary thought!

My first was 9 pounds even. Though I sport some quite shapely hips, this came as a suprise to everyone, including my doctor. In addition to his enormous head, he made his grand entrance waving his right hand at the world, better known as a compound presentation. As a result, I wound up with a sizeable episiotomy and a 4th degree tear. Not fun! So the thought of giving birth to a 14 pound 13 ounce baby, any way it may come out, makes me shudder.

The Beginning

So how does one begin a blog? Do I introduce myself, tell you all the wonderfully interesting things about my life? Or do I just get on with writing my daily thoughts/gripes/hangups? In true Saucy Mama fashion, I'd rather dive in.

Despite my complaining that they never let me sleep past 7 AM, I secretly love when my two kids wake me early in the morning and quietly ask if they can "crawl in" bed with me. The snuggling that ensues warms my soul like I never dreamed possible. And watching them drift off after a hard day of play is equally satisfying. But my favorite time of the day is dinnertime. My husband and I decided to make that a priority when we found ourselves thrust into this craziness called Parenthood, and I can thank my own parents for setting that example for me. I love to take a backseat and let my children run the conversations, allowing them to tell us what project they worked on today or what funny joke was shared at school. This togetherness, as cheesy as it may sound, makes me proud.

Tonight, while enjoying dinner with my lovely husband and two children, I experienced one of those rare moments of clarity. We always begin our meals with a toast to the day, yet tonight my son, Collin, chose to extend the toast to his soon to be little brother, who should be making an appearance in January. My oldest suddenly seemed so mature for his age, cheering this little being he has yet to meet. I realized, after seven years of doubting my parenting skills and second guessing every decision I've made, that quite possibly I may be doing a damn good job at instilling decent values in my children. As I was wiping a tear that threatened, my son farted, my daughter threw a shrimp at her brother, and I was quickly jerked back to reality. And yes, this is still my favorite part of the day.

So I guess I could have begun this blog with something a little more interesting about my day, but sharing my experience at the gym as a 22 week preggo could scare the timid away. We'll see what tomorrow brings.