I can’t believe he’s already a week old. I am completely over the moon in love with this little boy.

For more Wordless Wednesday head over to 5 Minutes for Mom!

I was looking around my house tonight and realized I’m living a life I had never dreamed I would. When you’re a kid, you dream about fantastic adventures in far off lands. You dream about the fulfilling work you’ll do changing the world. You dream about a glamorous and exciting life.

You do not dream of playrooms overflowing into your hall or of doing laundry and dishes and cleaning bathrooms at 1:30 am. You don’t dream about dirty sippy cups and crayon scribbles on walls. You don’t dream about the inevitable clutter of a busy life.

But, it wouldn’t be so bad if you did. Because, I must say, despite it’s decidedly unglamorous nature this is an incredibly fulfilling life. It is not the jet-set life of a writer I had envisioned for myself and some people who used to know me think I’ve settled for less or taken an easier path. But, this is anything but easy and I can’t help but think when I look into my childrens’ eyes that this is by no means settling for less. (Though, I’ll admit, before I had my kids I would have felt that way about others in this position.)

I don’t think I am noble or righteous for choosing motherhood. I don’t think women who pursue a career are less admirable than those who pursue a family. I think this is the right choice for me. And I think women have the right (and the responsibility) to determine what a fairy tale is on their terms. I guess right now, for me, my fairy tale is chasing preschoolers around and stepping on discarded toys on my way to the kitchen. And I fully intend to cherish every minute of it.

Is your “fairy tale” different than you had pictured it? How has your idea of success and happiness changed since starting a family?

This post was originally published March 10, 2008.

The good and bad thing about a hospital room on the maternity ward is that it feels a bit like a cocoon. You sit bundled up in bed with this precious new baby and you’re pretty oblivious to the rest of the world.

It’s blissful and a bit suffocating all at once.

Today the biggest thing we had going on was Traveler’s hospital picture session. He, of course, slept through the whole thing. But, he managed to look adorable while doing it.

I bought the cheapest package I could get away with (which is still ridiculously overpriced) and settled back in to my adjustable bed to gaze adoringly into his milky brown eyes.

And then I heard it. Even though my door was closed and I was swept up in my cocoon of new baby bliss, I heard the unmistakable sound of terror and heartbreak.

It was enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. There was shrieking. And crying. And my heart sunk to the floor when I realized it was another mother here on the maternity ward.

I do not know her story. I do not know what happened. I do know that moments later I heard running and carts streaming through the hall. I heard rushed whispers from nurses about a STAT Team being called. And, I do know that the sound of a mother’s heart broken in two is not a sound you forget.

I prayed for that woman for what seemed like an hour. I prayed for her baby. And, I held my own baby bundled tight in my arms and cherished each and every perfect moment with him.

But it reminded me that in every moment of blissful ignorance and in every second of my own selfish joy, somewhere in some hall someone is screaming. And that I should be thankful for every good and perfect moment I am blessed with.

Okay, so I’m aware that pictures of this new baby boy may only be interesting to me at this point. But, oh how I am in love. And so, I just can’t help myself.

Did I mention that the girls are in love with him, too? Today Kai & Ivy came to the hospital to see him again. Kai crept up to him, leaned down and kissed him gently on the head, and whispered, “There is my sweet boy.”

I nearly overdosed on preciousness right then and there.

World, meet Traveler Oakes Kekoa Loving.

Travs, meet the world.

Our little one made his way into the world at 12:48 PM today. He was 6 lbs. 11 oz. and 19.5″ long.

So, now if you’ll excuse me, I have some snuggling and cuddling to do with this little boy of mine. I’ll be updating with more pics soon!

There are lots of things I’m afraid of.

There is, for instance, flying. And spiders. And dangling my feet over the side of the bed when it is really dark in my bedroom and I’m the only one awake.

I’m really a big old ‘fraidy cat. For real.

The other thing I tend to be a bit nervous about? Major abdominal surgery. Particularly those of the C-section variety.

I don’t relish the thought of having my body cut in two. It’s just a little quirk I have.

But, tomorrow, I will face my fear again. Because I have to. And because it is a small price to pay for the blessing of this new life that we’re about to bring into this world. But, I’m nervous, friends. And freaking out just a smidge.

So, if you could offer up a few prayers for courage and peace and, you know, un-’fraidy cat-ness tomorrow I’d sure appreciate it. ‘Cause last night when Kai asked me over and over if this is the last time I’d ever be tucking her in to sleep I started to worry that she had an inside track on something I wasn’t aware of. And I confidently assured her that everything was going to be fine and that it was easy for the doctor to make a door for the baby to come out.

After which I promptly went in my room and cried. And freaked out. But it occurred to me (mid freak-out) that since sharing stories about my embarrassing parenting failures with the world makes me feel better that maybe sharing this bit of panic would make me feel better, too. Maybe just saying it out loud and asking for some prayer would be enough to take some of the bite out of that fear.

It’s what I do every time either of my girls have a nightmare. After I’ve comforted the tears and the panic, I tell them the same thing every time.

“Just tell me what it is and it will be okay.”

Then they tell me what terrible thing was filling up their dream. And they realize that it is never as bad as it sounded or felt in their head. Because keeping fears a secret gives them unbelievable power.

So, I’m telling you. My friends, readers, passersby. This is what I’m scared of and this is what I’m feeling. I’m telling you so it will be okay.

And you know what? I think it’s working already.

So, you know how you’re supposed to have your bags all packed somewhere around the 35th week of pregnancy? Actually, when Kai was born I’m fairly certain I packed them as soon as I entered the 3rd trimester. My bag sat by the door waiting expectantly to be whisked to the hospital in the middle of the night at the slightest pang of labor.

It never did happen that way.

With this pregnancy I’ve waited until the very end to pack. In fact, I only got most of my stuff together this past weekend and tossed it in the back of the van. Since it is pretty clear at this point that my womb is like a vault and my babies are evicted against their will I just don’t see the point. But, since I’m going in for my C-section Wednesday I guess I’d better have it done with pretty soon.

So, that said, I need some advice ’cause even though this is baby #3 I never know quite what to pack in these things. The baby’s bag is packed. That one is a piece of cake. It’s knowing what I’ll need that always stumps me. Thus far I have:

Digital camera/video camera
Two horrible Pollyanna nightgowns
One gag-tastic floral robe
Knit booties with skid free bottoms
Face wash, lotion, deodorant, and shampoo
Boppy Pillow (thanks, Laura!)
Various Balms and soothing lotions for breastfeeding
Nursing bras
Extremely forgiving and stretchy outfit to go home in

…and that’s it. I mean, of course I’d never go anywhere without my laptop and Blackberry (I’m hyperventilating at the very thought of it) but other than that I don’t know what else to bring. Is that everything I need?

Have any of you actually taken Thank You notes and done them in the hospital? Do you have any hospital must-haves that you recommend? ‘Cause as much as I love my husband (and, Thomas, I do love you) once I leave the house it’s likely he’ll never be able to find whatever I send him back to get for me.

So, ladies, help a blogger out. What am I forgetting? What should I bring that I would never think to take a long?

For more Tackle It Tuesday, head over to 5 Minutes for Mom and check out what other moms are taking on this week!

Since I’m currently, oh, 75 weeks pregnant (okay, okay technically just 39 weeks pregnant) the only parties I’m up for are ones I can attend in stretchy pants. And, as it turns out, blog parties are just about the only parties where my choice to wear embarrassing grandma pants is completely acceptable.

Which is why I decided that partying it up with the wonderful ladies from 5 Minutes for Mom was a perfect way to spend my last week of pregnant “bliss.”

So, here I am. Actually, it’s me 39 weeks pregnant with my youngest daughter and the victim of my mom’s terrible photo cropping skills - you’re welcome. (Read the full story behind this embarrassing pic here. It comes complete with a poem to highlight the humiliation. Don’t miss it!)

Meet my family. Our family photos look a bit like the old “Which of these things is not like the other?” game from Sesame Street. In case you’re a bit confused about where I am in the picture, I’m the one that doesn’t tan. Not even remotely.

Here you can read what a typical day in my life is like. And, yes, I really am that ridiculous in real life. I blame the red hair.

And, just for the heck of it, here’s the story of how I (unwittingly) hired strippers for my oldest daughter’s 2nd birthday party.

If I haven’t completely scared you away with all that, you can find me Twittering here.

So, there you have it. Me, in a nutshell. A really scary, humiliating, inappropriately honest nutshell.

Feel free to leave me a link in the comments so I can check out your blog and/or follow you on Twitter and get to know you, too!

And head over to 5 Minutes for Mom and check out all the cool mom content there! Enjoy the party!

In exactly one week we’ll be adding another little Loving to this family. I can’t wait to meet this little boy!

For more Wordless Wednesday head over to 5 Minutes for Mom!

I called Thomas at work last Wednesday and told him if he wanted to try and convince me to give polygamy a chance that was the day to do it. It is also, not coincidentally, the day our cleaning lady came for the second time.

Have I mentioned that I am in love with her?

Before you start to worry that I’ve been watching WAY too much Big Love on HBO, let me say I can’t truly imagine adding another person to a marriage.

But, adding another person to the house? One who cleans and can watch the kids while I run to the grocery during the day without worrying about loading anyone into over-sized carts and negotiating fights over who gets to sit beside the frozen pizzas? I can definitely imagine that.

When I was in college I remember reading Judy Syfers’ classic feminist essay, “Why I Want a Wife” and thinking it was really “cool.” Because I was 19. And I didn’t really get it. But, I was a feminist so I’d heard there was gender role inequality and, well, I jumped on the bandwagon.

But, now, I read that essay and I realize it could have been written by any one us mommy bloggers. I can relate to that essay in a way I had never quite imagined. I, too, want a wife. Wives are such wonderful, wonderful things.

Since I’m pretty much a traditional kind of girl (at least in the sense of wanting a one man/one woman marriage for myself) I’ll settle for having a housekeeper one day a week. It is probably as close as I’ll get to the bliss of having a wife to take care of me.

Our housekeeper started two weeks ago and I already look forward to seeing her every week. In fact, everyone in our house does.

“Don’t mess up the playroom,” Kai warns her sister, “Miss Trina is coming next week!”

“When Trina is here next week, can you have her iron some more dress shirts?” Thomas requests.

And, I am more than willing to give up these chores to someone more qualified than I am to do it. You should see me iron a shirt.

You may think I’m a terrible wife if you wish. I don’t care. Think I’m overindulgent, frivolous, or lazy? I can take it.

I guarantee you that society doesn’t view my husband as overindulgent, frivolous or lazy for having someone at home caring for his progeny and his domain. It is just a given that he’d have that luxury.

Don’t misunderstand the arrangement here, though. Having help one day a week doesn’t mean I sit around the rest of the week eating bon-bons and watching Dr. Phil. I still have plenty of household responsibilities to keep me busy. It does, however, mean I have someone who is guaranteed to catch the things I’ve routinely overlooked. Like baseboards. And blinds. And changing the sheets as often as they should be changed.

The truth is, now that I’ve gotten a taste of having someone to help around the house, I’d gladly sacrifice meat from my diet to be able to afford having her come clean our house. I’d limit myself to buying one pair of shoes a year. (Okay…maybe 2?)

Because homeschooling a preschooler, a kindergartener, and taking care of a brand-new baby after a C-section while maintaining some kind of order in this house is beginning to look overwhelming to me. Even with better living through pharmaceuticals.

So, when she offered to watch the kids while I ran a quick errand last week it occurred to me that having someone there to help out is pretty irresistible. Though, as it turns out, Thomas isn’t so much into the idea of marrying 60-something-year-old women so he wasn’t all that tempted. Even if it would save us the money we pay her.

I guess since polygamy is out of the question, I’ll stick to paying someone to help me be a better wife and mom. After all I am contributing to the economy that way, right??

What about you? What little luxury to you make room for in your budget that you refuse to do without?