Heartening

Two interesting links:

First off, check out this story about a preemie born unexpectedly at 24 weeks due to an infection of the womb. She had an irregular heartbeat, wasn't breathing, and was placed on her mother's chest to die -- but she didn't -- her mom's skin-on-skin snuggle brought her back. No joke!

Secondly, check out this Etsy shop, Star of the East. Dreamy.

Understatement of the year: the most amazing sky ever

These pictures were taken well over a month ago; but, in spite of their age, are well-worth posting. The sky was the most spectacular shades of blue and purple and red. The texture of the clouds made it seem as if you could eat them, and all the earth was tinted red. (Baby Truen, playing in a puddle in the driveway, was an orangey-pink, both hair and skin.)

Every part of the upper atmosphere - north, south, east, west, and every combination of direction - was different, and wonderous. It was an incredible sight; all we could do was stare upwards and try to take it all in.

House jargon

Diego says,

"Skeeter Bikes", instead of Speeder Bikes
"Damana", instead of banana
"Audweady", instead of already
"Imn't", instead of I'm not


Truen says,

"Nuggle", for snuggle
"Buh-doh", for butter
"Bruh-doh", for brother
"Wey-si", for raisin
"Manana", for banana

And I'm okay with that

Aside from being a little flummoxed about my un-announcement, I truly am okay with not being pregnant. A few people have asked me if I'm okay . . .

And, yes - I'm fine. A bit perplexed with a dash of embarrassment, but I'm good. Though I was starting to get excited about the idea of a new baby and the thrill that goes along with it, I really did want more space between Two and Three.

As for the future, we shall see . . .

This happens all the time, right...?

So, in light of my last post, albeit rather dramatic . . . ahem . . . I'd like to un-announce my pregnancy.

Yes, that is correct. The friggin' doofus that I am, I'd like to un-announce my pregnancy. Take back. Renege. Recant. Withdraw. Retract. Un-announce.

Un-un-un-un.

Unbelievable. So yes, while most everyone thinks I'm happily humming through my twelfth week of pregnancy, I am here to say, officially, that I am, in fact, NOT pregnant.

I thought I was.

Yes, I thought I was, but I am not.

How is this possible? What it does explain is my lack of extreme exhaustion and need to eat like an overworked team of oxen. What it doesn't explain is the strange tightening of my waistband, the ever-present need to pee, sore nipples, and why I hadn't had my period since the end of May. Shoot, I just figured every pregnancy was different.

Things this past week were starting to feel a little goofy, like, shouldn't my belly be a little bigger than this? . . . and why am I not tired at all? . . . and most alarming, . . . blood. So we decided it was time to take a pregnancy test. [Ahem, a first for this time 'round . . . coughcough . . . mmmmph]

Negative.

So, ladies, please: un-congratulate me. I am NOT pregnant. What I AM, however, is a complete and total nincompoop. This whole deal was announced to my entire family while I was home (too-good-to-be-true, everyone-in-the-same-place-at-the-same-time) and then, doorknob that I am, to the entire internet via my blog. Yes, I thought I was, but I am not.

Most definitely not.

Un-un-un-un.

Don't do the math, it doesn't add up

9 years married +

13 years together +

11 weeks NOT pregnant =

TOTAL DWEEB

Happy Anniversary!

Checking in

Head on over to my SIL's blog, "Rock Garden" for an in-depth photo montage from some big family events. That sibs picture just cracks me up!

Secondly, I'm re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-obsessed with the Myers-Briggs Personality Type Indicator. Go! Take the test and report back in the comments. I'm very curious to hear your results.

Once you get your letter combo, i.e. ISFJ or ENTJ, google it and click on "Portrait of..." Make sure you click on the Relationship section.

Muy interesante.

Sibs

Two girls, three boys

The girls in "bookend" position in birth order

Brown-eyed boys - Blue-eyed girls

e/infp, enfp, istp, infp, infp

(an astounding ratio)

24, 31, 30, 21, 26

Love 'em

Scenes from my brother's wedding