Happy Halloween!

But first, a theory: Seasonal change throws Mabes off. I can't explain it, but I was talking to Sarah this spring and venting about how crazy Mabes was being and she suggested that the weather change/wind might affect her. Interesting, as I remembered screaming fits about that time the year before. For some reason, the teachers at Ainsleigh's school had observed that on windy days, the kids were insane. Not snow or rain, just wind.

So lately she's been...off. And it's not the first time. So I'm going to ignore the monster fit she threw an hour ago leaving our friends' house and chalk it up to the madness which is October. And know that if the past season changes are any indication, this too will pass.

Other than the aforementioned fits, we've had a great weekend. Friday night was our ward Trunk-or-Treat party, and Mabes has been looking forward to this for weeks. I decided that I really wanted to make a fun costume for Mabes, but didn't want it to be a princess or fairy. Somehow I talked her into being a witch ("I'll make you a cool tutu!"), and Mabes accepted on the condition that she'd be "a good witch wif my regaree face, not a mean witch wif a green face." And she got even more excited when she thought of a coordinating costume for Ricecake:

(In case you can't tell, Ricecake is a black cat)

And I kind of love the hat I made:

She had a blast at the party; she loved the games, the candy, and of course just running around. Actually, I think the running around was the highlight. We returned home, tired, and she declared it her best day ever.

Trying to get the donut.

Today, Mabes helped Dave carve her first pumpkin. When we picked out the pumpkin, Mabes decided to name her Perryanna, since she appeared to be Perry's big sister. While we were scooping out the seeds, Mabes kept petting her and telling her it wouldn't hurt, it's just what we needed to do to make her pretty.
She sketched a drawing of the face she wanted on PerryAnna, and Dave set to work. Here's the almost-finished product with the magnadoodle drawing and Mabes making a similar face:

Dave added a finishing touch, and Mabes loves her:

As we were getting Mabes' costume on tonight, it started raining. We drove over to our friend's neighborhood in a downpour, but fortunately it let up as everyone was getting ready to head out. We had a great time trick-or-treating, eating candy, and hanging out and laughing with friends. But thank heavens tomorrow is November.

Autumn in the mountains

Last weekend, Grandma Jackie came to visit and then we all drove to the mountains to visit Aunt Amber-Rae at Western Carolina. We probably picked the best weekend to go--the weather was perfect and the fall colors are gorgeous (but most of the leaves are still on the trees!). It was a long car trip for just one day, but Mabes did great.
We got to see the campus, Ber-Rae's dorm room, and the small college town, then had some fantastic pizza for lunch. We took these pictures at a point overlooking Cullowhee. It was a great view, and someday when I have more time I'll photoshop the power lines out!



Mabes got her first taste of tailgating and loved the crowds, music, and best of all mascots. She got to meet the WCU mascot:

And perhaps even more important, the Bojangle's mascot:

We drove back that evening, and to reward Mabes (and me!) for toughing out 6 hours in the car, we stopped at Cook-Out for burgers and shakes. It's different from In-N-Out, but makes me equally happy. Grandma Jackie looked a little guilty when I realized how much of her shake Mabes ate, but I just felt bad for Grandma! I'm more than happy to let Grandmas spoil Mabes, and Mabes doesn't seem to mind, either.

Today in haiku

Tantrums and crazy;
Remember July? Good times.
I need ice cream now.

Red plate

A week and a half ago was our ward's Primary Program. For those that may be unfamiliar, Primary Programs happen one Sunday a year, when the Primary (children's Sunday school) is in charge of Sacrament meeting. They sing songs, recite scriptures, give talks, etc. It's fantastic. It's something I participated in while growing up, and remember watching it 4 years ago thinking, "4 years from now, Mabes will be doing her first Primary Program." It's a milestone.

She got her part a couple of months ago and quickly memorized it. I figured she'd be pretty pumped about getting up in front of the whole ward and talking into the microphone, but Mabes surprises us with the times she decides to be shy. She kept saying she'd do it, and was particularly excited that she was the very first person to go up to the microphone, so I was pretty confident she'd handle it well.

And then, the Friday night before the program, Mabes woke up in the middle of the night "wif da fro dups." Mabes has a pretty tough stomach and doesn't get sick often (thank you, Mabes, your mom and dad wouldn't handle that well!), but Dave and I sprang into action and got everything cleaned up. Aside from curbing our Friday night Costco shopping/dinner trips, I realized Mabes wouldn't be able to attend the program rehearsal the next day. And probably the program on Sunday. I kept telling myself it wasn't that big of a deal, but this was my first kid's first program. I'd been looking forward to this for years, and she was so excited!

Saturday morning, she had a fever but was surprisingly upbeat. I wanted her to rest and get better, so we pulled her mattress into the family room and told her she could watch shows and movies all day. She was thrilled. She drank her clear liquids, rested, watched TV, and then all of a sudden the fever went away and she was literally bouncing off the couch.

By Sunday morning, she was still doing great. I know the rule is fever-free for 24 hours, but she was doing so well we decided to go ahead and take her to church (with lots of hand sanitizer), since she was so excited for the program. Seeing her beaming from the podium was totally worth it. When it was her turn, she marched up to the microphone and very confidently and clearly recited, "All of us are children of the most high."

Reciting her part

Then she went back and stood with the other 4-year-olds. For the remainder of the program, she was great. Sang when she knew the words, and when she didn't, she just made "aren't I sweet" faces for the audience. I realized that at one point, she was tilting her head so the congregation could see the flower in her hair. And since that was too subtle, she then tilted her head more obviously and pointed to the gem in the flower. At least she was quiet.

One of the faces she was making

She did great the rest of the day, so we celebrated her first Primary Program by carrying on the Ostler tradition of giving her the red plate for dinner. Since we were just venturing back into solid foods, I figured a waffle was close enough to the toast part of the BRAT diet so we had breakfast for dinner that night.

Mmmmm....brinner!

Nickanoo

In my list of random things last week, I forgot to mention the saddest: due to H1N1, our hospital has barred all visitors under the age of 18. Even siblings. So for years, I've been looking forward to having Mabes walk into the hospital room and meet her new brother or sister, and that's not going to happen. I realize that as far as sad things go, this isn't terribly serious. It ranks somewhere between missing House last week due to a delayed baseball game/Tivo error and when Dreyer's discontinued their Andes Mint flavor (it's a loss I still mourn). We'll have a great homecoming/sister meeting instead, but still. I'm bummed.

This pregnancy is flying by, we still don't have a name, and I'm alternating between feeling fantastic and hugely awkward. Just when I think the pressure is unbearable, I remember that if this kid is like Mabes, her weight will triple in the next 2-2.5 months. Yowzuhs. I sometimes find myself thinking, "I have 10 more weeks of this left?" but that's quickly followed by "holy crap, only 10 more weeks?!?!"

And I swore I wouldn't do it, but hey, this is my journal so why not? Here I am at 30 weeks. Note the change from 24 weeks--the torpedo belly is forming.
And to make up for the belly picture, here's an adorable picture of Mabes wearing the hat she made in Primary. And showing off her flower hair bow. Seriously, when did my baby turn into a little girl?

Happy birthday, Moomois!

Okay, I'm totally behind. I keep telling myself that one small post is better than waiting forever and forgetting what I wanted to write down, so I have vowed to post once a day for the rest of the month. Shouldn't be too hard, since the month's almost over, right?

In "awesome" news, today is my Mom's birthday. Let the record state that my mom is the most awesome mom ever. See the quilt posted below for one example of her craftiness. Or my Orlando pictures when Mabes buried her head in Grandma's lap for the entire Dinosaur ride for an example of how she comforts. Or my countless chocolate chip cookie posts (a recipe perfected by her) for an example of her culinary skills. Or her blog to read of all her cycling adventures for an example of how ridiculously in shape she is--seriously, she could dust most people half her age.

Most importantly, though, she has a way of reassuring when we're overcome with self-doubt, comforting when things seem hopeless, and encouraging when I'm convinced I'm failing as a mother. All in a way that, like her aforementioned fitness, is genuine and non-annoying. You know what I mean: someone like my mom could be annoying with non-stop spin classes and a sugar-free diet, but my mom enjoys indulging in a good steak, hot caramel sundae, or even Taco Bell. She has the perfect balance of experience, relatability, self-deprecation, and humor, so when I call to vent, her advice never seems preachy. She just makes everything better.

So Happy Birthday, Moomy! Enjoy the take-out Pappy's bringing home, and then have a big bowl of ice cream with SYTYCD. (I'll have a bowl in your honor, though we don't have Mrs. Richardson's caramel here, either. I looked. I was going to send you some for your birthday.) And then maybe do a pirate jig. Because that's another awesome thing about my mom--she has a great silly side. And does a mean pirate jig.

Random

I've been slacking on the blog for two reasons: I've been really tired lately, so dozing on the couch while trying to read is much more appealing (not sure if I should blame 3rd trimester fatigue or the fact that Mabes has been waking up at night this week), and I've only had little things to post. So here you go.

--First and most important: I passed the three hour test! Phew! I think Edy's (Dreyers for you westerners) shareholders breathed a collective sigh of relief. I didn't find out until Tuesday afternoon, but the nurse said that all 4 blood draws were great and well within the range for normal. I'm looking forward to ice cream tonight.

--Have I mentioned that Mabes likes bats? She woke up the other morning and came running into our room laughing, "Last night, I was sleeping like a bat! When I woke up dis morning, my head and arms were off my bed--I was sleeping upside down!"

--Ricecake is clean. I've known for some time that Ricecake was getting pretty dingy, but the tag said "spot clean only" so I was afraid to throw her in the wash. I wouldn't exactly call Ricecake a "lovey"; it's not like Ricecake is a security thing that helps calm and comfort her. Ricecake is her best friend, her sister, and sometimes nemesis. Even if I did buy a replacement (found it online--may have to order a backup just in case), Mabes would probably know that it's just another lamb, not Ricecake.But after several people assured me that they had laundered stuffed animals without problems, I decided to give it a try. She was getting so gray it was pretty gross.

"You want to do what to Ricecake?"

Mabes wasn't sure about it at first, but then decided it could be a fund adventure for Ricecake. Mabes had a chat with her beforehand and explained that she would get clean, and was pretty excited about it. So with great trepidation, I zipped her into a pillow case and threw her in the wash. She had no clue how nervous I was. When I pulled her out of the dryer, I was thrilled to find her in one gloriously clean piece:

Mabes and Ricecake happily reunite:

--Mabes' hair was getting really too long, so I suggested I cut her hair. She just looked at me, horrified. "But I don't want my hair to look like Daddy's!" Um, Mabes, I can do more than one haircut. After I pointed out that Mommy got haircuts, too, but her hair wasn't as short as Daddy's, she warmed up to the idea.

The before and after

Mabes was quite pleased with the result, and I have to say, it's really cute.

Daddy's girl

"Is Mabes a Daddy's girl?" I was asked recently at a baby shower.

I wasn't sure how to answer this. I mean, I feel like Mabes and I have a great relationship. She's my girl and frankly I missed her the first few times she went to preschool. She's my little buddy (sorry, Rachel, I know you hate that word). When she needs something, she comes to me. When she's hurt or sad, she comes to me. She can be a very girly girl and is so fun to play with. I know where I stand with her, and I'm happy with it.
So with that in mind, I can also say that she's totally a Daddy's girl and I love it. She adores Dave. Dave was in Singapore last week and every day she'd talk about how much she missed him, but that when he got back it would be Home Depot Saturday and they'd go build stuff. Because that's what they do. Mabes loves Home Depot Saturdays and looks forward to them all month. Mabes was particularly excited for this month's, since she knew they were going to build something related to firetrucks and that there would be real firetrucks and firemen there. When they started going to these things, Dave had to help Mabes a lot with every step. As you can see, she's getting really good at hammering.
Oh, and note the obligatory sunglasses. She hasn't been as adamant about wearing them this year, but she still wears them pretty often. And for some reason doesn't like to take them off when we go in stores, but then she can't figure out why everyone calls her Miss Hollywood.
And then earlier this week, Dave had to go to Chicago for a couple of days. Once again, Mabes missed him but said she'd be so glad when Daddy got home. Tuesday night, Mabes chose "Daddy's Little Girl" as her bedtime story. When I finished, Mabes said, "Soon, Daddy will have TWO little girls! Big little girl Mabes, and little baby girl baby! I fink Daddy will like having two little girls!" Me too, Mabes, me too.

Failure

Perhaps one of the most humbling things about being a mom is that there are some things you can't control. You can't study. Well, you can, but it won't necessarily help. This is particularly annoying to me. Ever since I got a C in reading in 6th grade (I can still vividly remember crying in the bathroom) I have worked my tail off to never be average, or heaven forbid, fail. I never wanted my teachers or parents to be mad or disappointed in me, and the maybe 3 times in my school career that I got my name on the board still make my stomach turn. I always tried to do better than was expected of me, and most importantly: I.don't.fail.

Until now. When I went into labor with Mabes (and had a surprisingly fast labor--yay for being above average!) and it was time to push, my doctor said, "Okay, just so you know, the average first-time mom pushes for 2 hours." What? They don't show that on Baby Story! But then I just rolled my eyes, scoffed a little and said, "Yeah, well, I'm not average. We'll get this kid out in 10 minutes." Two hours later, I was eating my words.

And then today, I found out I failed my 1 hour glucose test. Seriously? I've been studying for this test my whole life! My body knows how to handle sugar! The nurse did preface it with "You're iron levels are great!" (iron doesn't let me eat chocolate chip cookies, though, does it?) and then finished it with "You just barely failed it--it's more of a screening test and you're barely over the cutoff." I've always said that if I'm going to fail, I'm go to crash and burn, but apparently I can't even do that. It's like my doctor has written my name on the board, and tomorrow I may get a check mark.

So I go in tomorrow and get to sit at the lab for 3 hours drinking concentrated sugar on an empty stomach and being treated like a human pin cushion. Funsies! And I keep telling myself the gestational diabetes diet would have its benefits, and I will of course do what's best for the baby. I'd be lying if I said Sarah's dream about me having a 15 pound baby didn't scare me a little. I'm just hoping we get the results fast so I know if I can have ice cream tomorrow night.