Category: General Family News

For the longest time, Daniel and I called the ice cream truck “the music truck,” which left our kids with the impression that it was just a truck, driving around all afternoon playing music for kids. This terminology conveniently eliminated daily discussion over whether or not to buy ice cream.

And as long as they never asked about ice cream, we never felt the need to mention it.

Here in the city, we have several “music trucks” making their rounds from early afternoon to late evening, all summer long. So it’s not just a once-a-day thought. It’s more like alllll afternoon, every day, allll summer long!

Sometime last summer, Mara figured it out. I remember her coming to me near the end of the summer, saying, “Mommy, I saw these people going up to the music truck–and when they walked away, they had ice cream!”

She had this expression that said, “I’m sure I saw it, but we’ve never talked about it before. And we all looovvve ice cream!”

Honestly, I was surprised this hadn’t come up sooner. I was frank with her. “Yes,” I said, “Most people call it the ‘ice cream truck’ since you can get ice cream there, but we don’t buy ice cream there, so we just call it the music truck, since it plays music.”

She seemed okay with that explanation.

But over time, seeing people come and go–with ice cream and various other treats–has, of course, piqued her interest and increased her desire to buy ice cream from the “music truck.”

Tonight we had yet another discussion.

“Mommy, why can’t we buy ice cream from the music truck?” she asked.

“We get our ice cream on sale at Shoprite,” I told her, “and it costs a lot more to buy ice cream from the ice cream truck.”

Then Micah chimes in. Surprisingly my three-year-old: arguing “Why We Should Not Buy Ice Cream From The Music Truck.”

“Mara!” he exclaimed in a ‘you-should-know-better’ tone of voice. “We already have ice cream!–In the freezer!”

“YES!” I laughed to myself. “Someone has been listening!”

When you consider that I pay $1.99 – $2.50 for our ice cream, and that serves the whole family two or three times, it’s really hard to justify buying ice cream from the ice cream truck. But of course, my four-year-old is just not thinking on that level yet.

“When I grow up, I’m going to let my kids buy ice cream from the music truck,” Mara declared.

And, as Daniel said, when she grows up and is earning her own money, she can certainly make that decision for her kids if she wants! . . . I know. We’re such mean parents. . .

Maybe it will surprise you to know that Daniel will, however, take the kids for water ice several times throughout the summer.

When I get off bedrest . . . . .

Tuesday evening was my 34-1/2 week-almost-35-week-appointment with Dr. M.

He was the same one I saw last time, and although he’s not my favorite, I do like having the same ob for a couple of visits, since I always have to explain my pregnancy situation/history.

Good news:

• No cervical change (which is the main thing we always want to hear–at least until we’re ready for baby to come! Then we want to see change!!)
• The baby’s head is down (YAY!)
• Dr. M sees no reason that I would need a c-section presently, unless some scenario arises closer to/during labor that would ordinarily call for a c-section.
• At this point, if I dilate further, the ob will not do anything to prevent delivery. Which means that the only reason I would need to come up to triage would be if I felt that delivery was imminent.
• Just two weeks and two days until I am “full-term” (at 37 weeks). . . of course, five weeks and two days remain until my actual due date . . .

I did tell Dr. M about my sleep struggles. My contractions are always worse between 1-3AM. All the obs say ‘maybe you’re dehydrated, get up and drink some water.‘ But the problem with that theory is I get up at least every hour to use the bathroom, and I get a drink of water every time. (So maybe my full bladder is causing contractions? The drs say ‘no.’)

I experienced the same with Carissa, and after weeks of contractions keeping me up through the night, they had prescribed a sleeping pill to help my body rest for a couple of nights. I’m not a real proponent of sleeping pills. I know they can be addictive, but in certain limited circumstances, I can see their value.

I was hoping Dr. M would prescribe something, but no. His answer completely took me by surprise.

“Just drink a glass of wine before bed each night,” he instructed. “It will help ease the contractions and relax you so you can sleep.”

I must have looked shocked, because he quickly added: “It won’t hurt the baby. Years ago, we used to prescribe alcohol intravenously as a tocolytic before we had the options that we have today.”

I’ve never really enjoyed wine, or developed a taste for it, but I’m sure lots of women would be thrilled to get that advice from their ob! This is the same guy who stripped my membranes with Carissa, without even asking me or telling me afterwards that he did it. . . so maybe he’s a little . . . unconventional . . .

And, last but not least, Carter’s Baby store is having their Super Duper Summer Clearance sale. I figured with “full-term” coming so soon, I should start easing off bedrest graaaadually. (What better way to do that than at Carters without children?!)

Daniel called me, after seeing Google Latitude placing me at the mall, and asked, “Sooo did you actually have a dr’s appointment? or are you just spending my hard-earned money at the outlet mall?”

“Oh, was it hard-earned?” I asked innocently.

Oh, and can you put the kids to bed? After I leave the mall, I’m going to go get myself a glass of wine!

Doctor’s orders. 😉

For friends who ask what bedrest is like . . .

• Me laying on the couch in the living room, mid- to hi-80’s inside, since it’s 99 outside.
• 4-year-old coloring quietly at the dining room table.
• 3-year-old laughing hysterically trying to lift my shirt to “blow on your tummy” to make me laugh (his contagious laughter alone is enough to send me into labor).
• 1-year-old hitting me on the head with her brother’s dinosaur, saying “RAWHRR! RAWHRRR!”

I can’t quit singing this Stuart Townend song or mulling over its richness again and again in my mind.  .  . The comfort these truths contain transcends any trial we could imagine here on earth, and even our own mortality.

Through many stages of life, I have my “song.” And later, I will hear that song and instantly connect it with what was going on in life at that particular stage.

This is my “song” right now.

I keep thinking of the life of the prophet Jeremiah (one of my favorite Old Testament characters) with each verse.

I hope the truth of these words will bless your heart as well.

THERE IS A HOPE
by Stuart Townend and Mark Edwards
Copyright (c) 2007 Thankyou Music.

There is a hope that burns within my heart,
That gives me strength for ev’ry passing day;
A glimpse of glory now revealed in meager part,
Yet drives all doubt away:
I stand in Christ, with sins forgiv’n;
and Christ in me, the hope of heav’n!
My highest calling and my deepest joy,
to make His will my home.

There is a hope that lifts my weary head,
A consolation strong against despair,
That when the world has plunged me in its deepest pit,
I find the Savior there!
Through present sufferings, future’s fear,
He whispers, “Courage!” in my ear.
For I am safe in everlasting arms,
And they will lead me home.

There is a hope that stands the test of time,
That lifts my eyes beyond the beckoning grave,
To see the matchless beauty of a day divine
When I behold His face!
When sufferings cease and sorrows die,
and every longing satisfied,
then joy unspeakable will flood my soul,
For I am truly home.

Yesterday I was putting the kids down for their naps and trying to do some last-minute tidying in Micah’s room. Micah was lying down, already sucking his thumb. The blinds were closed, and I had already put his blankets (“five–I want five blankets!”) on him.

I walked in and out of his room a couple of times, putting some things away–in the bathroom, in the girls’ room.

The second time Micah looked up quietly and said, “Mommy? Say, ‘I love you, Micah.'”

I stopped and turned toward my sweet little guy, realizing that Micah thought I just might walk out of his room, without my usual “I love you,” while sitting next to him on the bed and singing a song.

I smiled from the doorway, my hands full, and said, “I love you, Micah.”

“Come,” he called, “sit on my bed and tell me.”

This child knows how to melt Mommy’s heart!

I told Daniel about it when he came home from work, and he replied, “It’s kind of cute when he’s two, but you know he won’t say that much longer.”

Cue the tears of this pregnant woman!

“I know,” I said through my tears. “That’s why it was so special!”

Daniel shook his head. “Are you gonna be one of those moms (think “Love You Forever“) that drives across town and crawls in his window when he’s grown?–That’s just weird.”

No, I promise. I won’t.

But, as long as he’s still asking. . . I’ll go sit on his bed and tell him.

I love you, Micah.