I should be cleaning.

And I mean frenetically, feverishly cleaning.  However, I'm sitting here enjoying a cup of orange yogurt (tastes a bit like an orange julius) and hoping it will give me the energy to be frenetically, feverishly cleaning.  I have so little energy this morning that I ache, like deep-in-the-center-of-my-being ache.  First trimester of pregnancy, how I hate thee.  In fact, with Eliza, it wasn't until about the fifth month that I began to believe anything other than I would be one of those women who loves her children but hates maternity.  After about four or five months, I didn't mind so much, though by the end I was so ready to be done I was ready to do just about anything to go into labor.  Oh, naive fool.

I'm still adjusting to the idea of being a mommy of two.  After all, I really don't have being the mommy-of-one down (as I listen to my eldest scream and cry because she is not being rocked to sleep.  She's got some pipes, this one).  I can barely remember (except when I feel like crap) that I am indeed in the family way again, let alone really take in that there is going to be another little one in the house.  I feel like I've finally reached a place where I can expect to sleep through most of the night, and now I am staring two-hour feedings in the face again.  Do I regret getting pregnant again "so soon"?  No.  We wanted this: I knew our children would be fairly close together form some of the family-planning decisions Nick and I have made (like the fact that we'd like to have four kids, preferably before I'm 40, and that we are leaving it totally up the Lord to decide when these kiddos come).  But it is taking some adjusting to the fact that it will all be starting over again fairly soon.  Is it unrealistic to hope that the next one will be easier?  Or at least that I will know what to do a little bit sooner?  Maybe.

I should get to cleaning.  We're having guests over tonight, and we plan to be at the house in town this afternoon.  Pulling carpet staples from hardwood!  So much fun.  So, it means this house has to be cleaned and dinner prepped before I leave in a few hours.  I don't know if I'm going to make it.  The yogurt hasn't done much for my energy.

Intermittent

That's been my blogging recently, right?  I miss it.  The past few weeks are eaten up with taking care of Eliza, working on the house, and various other things and it's rare I get a moment where I have both the internet, no pressing cleaning to do, and Eliza down for a nap (otherwise she really doesn't like it when I'm on the computer).  (As in right now: I had wondered that she was letting me sit here and type away, and I turned to find that she has found my Bible in the diaper bag and was having a grand old time.  Thankfully, no damage is done.  As a side note, I love the fact that she's so fascinated by our Bibles, I'm not hot on the destruction she'd do if we let her really have them.)  So, sadly, until some things change, I may not be on here as much as I'd like.

As an update: current things going on in the house.  We have cleaned (and I should say my mom, mother-in-law, and a friend of the family have cleaned) the apartment, gotten the trimmed taped, cracks mudded, and primer is going on the walls.  Plus, the bathtub area of the bathroom has been demolished and is almost (once the mess is cleaned up) ready for the plumber.  We'll have to have an electrician come in and look at the wiring, because we found some knob and tube on old light/outlets where we want to put in sconces.  We also have discovered that the window in what will be our bedroom is defunct.  As in, the glass is coming away from the wood.  We can't get the window to shut fully, either, so heat is pouring in (you can see the blind fluttering) that window.  So, likely, we'll be replacing the windows on the second and third floors to help cut down energy costs.  I am still hoping that we can move in by early September, but I don't know if I'm being overly optimistic or what.  I guess it will depend on how soon everyone can get in to do the work.  You might be praying for us.  Just that the work can get done, and that we don't stress out or wear out too much while trying to get it done.  It's going to be a bit of a haul!

Untitled

Have you ever heard that phrase, "Stop the crazy!  I want to get off?"  Maybe not.  Maybe that's just something weird I've heard around my youth group.  But I admit, I feel like yelling it now and again.

The past few days, weeks, (months?), have been so busy.  There has been work on our new house since pretty much the beginning of July.  First floor, almost done.  Nice.  Second floor?  Opens up on Monday and we start.. all... over...   Actually, it hopefully won't be as bad because we won't be pulling down any obnoxious wallpaper.  Instead, we will be refurbishing a broken-down bath and redoing floors.  Joy!  Add into this mix a week away at CIY and a baby who still isn't sure if she's willing to "get back on schedule" and well, it does feel pretty crazy around here.

But here's the big news: it's gonna get even crazier.  We're expecting again.  YES!  Baby Kemper #2 is due in April.  (Speaking of which, I really need to call the dr.'s office....)  Which, of course, limits how much I can actually help work on our own apartment at the new house.  But then, maybe that's good.  Maybe I should start packing on the days they're using noxious chemicals.

So, yes, I'm tired, really tired, and I have lots to do.  And a baby who barely sleeps anymore.  (Or eats, if the past few days are any indication.  Joy.)  Thankfully, though, sickness hasn't hit yet.  I'd like to think it won't be as bad as last time, but... I don't know that will be true.  I've heard your symptoms often worsen with each pregnancy.  Again, joy.  Maybe we should rethink the number of kids we want?  (Kidding!  Mostly.)

The return

So, yes, I'm back from CIY.  I wonder, sometimes, if CIY is like childbirth.  An amazing experience, but after a time you forget how tiring and difficult and challenging it can be.  (I've been told childbirth can be like that, and I can see the point.  The memory of the pain is still sharp, but my leeriness for it is fading.)  Can I say, I'm EXHAUSTED?  Yes.  All caps.  I should be napping.  But I missed my husband even more than I missed my sleep.  Really.  So, instead I think we'll spend naptime catching up on together time by catching up on some of the TV shows we love to watch together and laugh over together.  Last night was Psych.  Today very like Warehouse 13 and Eureka, maybe White Collar.  And now I hear my baby.  So much for naptime.