First, a funny convo with Eliza...
Eliza shows me 4 or 5 signs she's learned at school lately that I don't know.
Me: "That's so cool that you know so much sign language now. You know, your Grandma Pam's grandparents couldn't hear, so they only used sign language to talk. I bet they'd think it was pretty cool that you know sign language too!"
Eliza: "They couldn't hear? Did they have ears?"
Completely logical question from a 3 year old, but it cracked me up nonetheless.
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In other news, Beanie and Eliza both threw us for a bit of a loop last week. Last Tuesday at 1am and 35 weeks, I woke up to some contractions. I couldn't get back to sleep so I started timing them, thinking they wouldn't be regular. They got closer and closer together over a couple of hours. By 4 am, I'd had fairly strong contractions at 8 minutes apart for over an hour. Because of my history with Eliza (less than 3 hours in labor), my midwife wanted me to call once my contractions got to 7 minutes apart, so I wouldn't "have this baby in the car," as she said. S and Eliza slept through this whole thing; I was in the living room. At this point I'm thinking this is probably it. And I panicked because A) He's only 35 weeks and B) Eliza's 1st ballet recital is in 36 hours. Plus, I've been up most the night and I'm not at my most rational. So I'm sobbing hysterically, feeling so bad about missing her recital. I decide I might as well shower since who knows when my next chance to shower will be. I get out of the shower and the contractions have stopped. Oh, and during this time I'm *praying* that I would be able to go to the recital and Beanie would be fine. I wake S up to tell him that I thought I was in labor but now I'm not so sure. He rubs my back. I fall back asleep.
I rest as much as possible during the next 36 hours and the contractions come and go. Finally it's Wednesday at 3:00 and time to get ready for her recital. I get out her outfit to get her dressed. I haven't shown it to her yet because I knew she'd want to try it on and I didn't want her to ruin her tights. The required uniform is pink ballet slippers, pink tights and a black leotard. She sees the leotard is black and refuses to put any of the outfit on. She wants to wear her pink leotard. I explain this is what all her friends are wearing and show her the note from her teacher saying it was required. She says if she has to wear black she won't dance. She throws a huge tantrum and I leave the room to get dressed and not reward the tantrum. 5 minutes later she's quiet so I peak into her room. She's passed out asleep. Did I mention she refused to nap that day? I let her sleep for 20 minutes and then we really have to leave for school. I put the outfit in my purse. She apparently put on her pink leotard and purple tutu after I left the room.
So I carry sleeping Eliza to the car and of course the contractions start again. We get to school and in the nick of time I'm able to get the required outfit on her. I breathe a sigh of relief. Then she says again she will not dance while wearing black. The fact that another girl in her class showed up in pink instead is not helping my cause. Her teachers tried to persuade her; her father tried to persuade her; nothing worked. The rest of her class performed and Eliza refused. I guess when I prayed that I be able to make it to the recital, I should have been more specific that I wanted my kid to perform in said recital. It wasn't at all funny at the time, but it's a little bit funny now. :)
The contractions are still coming and going, by the way. If I make it to Wednesday, Beanie will be full term!
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