My last vacation as a little girl...

The best decision that I made in the course of my 7.5 months of pregnancy was to take two "baby moons" - one with my husband and one without him. Well past my seventh month - I decided to spend a few days in Lake Buena Vista, Florida with my parents while they enjoyed their well-deserved annual two week vacation in their timeshare.

While I hate being away from my husband (sometimes), and I know that he wasn't particularly crazy about the idea of me traveling alone, I knew that a few days alone -- just me and my parents would be the last opportunity in my life to worry about nothing but being my parents' child.

So when I left out of the house before going to the airport I yelled "Goodbye Capone - Hope your daddy feeds you! Adios Pat, I hope you can find something to eat while I am gone!" -- and I was on my way.

Just walking through the airport terminal made me feel 10 pounds lighter. I bought myself a slice of pizza, a chocolate brownie, some sweet peach ice tea, and some hot chocolate. "Now this is life!" I thought to myself, taking joy in the fact that there was no one there to tell me to watch my salt or sugar intake.

Despite an uncomfortable airplane ride, my glee continued once I got to the Orlando airport. My brother (who now lives in Tampa) rode with my parents to come pick me up and after plenty of hugs and kisses - we all hopped in my parent's car and headed for the best seafood in town. (Merely stepping out into the fresh southern air began to reinvigorate my soul.)

As I sat around the table with my parents (who assured my brother and I that we could order anything that we wanted to eat) I was reminded of how wonderful the "good ole days were" when my parents provided everything that I needed, chastised me when I made an obviously poor decision, yet always provided me with the assurance that it was nothing that I could do to take change their love for me. Just being there - being loved, being taken care of, being watched over -- I felt a sense of comfort and security that I had almost forgotten existed in the six years I've lived on my own.

The following days were filled with precious simplicity, as we did nothing more than swim in the pool for hours, play cards for quarters, talk about life, and go shopping for souvenirs. They only tested my patience once -- when they spent 35 minutes trying to figure out which pool we should eat at when I bought them Chick Fil A.

Once it was time to go back to Chicago (in order to start baby moon #2) I couldn't let them see it but I almost cried. They had no idea how much the few days that we spent alone meant to me but I was sure that I would remember and relish this time for the rest of my life. In a moment, I will have my own child to care for -- a beautiful blessing who will surely be the prominent focus of my love moving forward. And true to form, I guess this last vacation as my parent's little girl was their way of showing me exactly how this thing called "unconditional love" is supposed to be done.

The Golden Girls...(Godmothers 'Honoris Causa')

Everyone has them -- the friends that you can't stand 90% of the time but love 200% of the time. In most circles, these friends (maybe 4 or 5 of them) all carry a distinct personality - the "nice one", the "mean one", the "crazy one", the "fun one", and the "momma". Unfortunately, these traits are often tied to each friend when they are in 3rd, 4th, or 5th grade and no matter how hard you try or no matter how much they evolve, you will always see them as the same little girl who used to forge signatures, or kiss little boys under the stair way, or beat up little boys during house parties like they did over 20 years ago.

Like many other fortunate women, I have a group of friends like this -- girls who I have known for well over 20 years. Through deaths, love, and fights -- marriage, children, relocation, and life-changing events -- these girls, no...these women are always around, somewhere nearby just in the event that there is a need for a celebration cocktail or one of us are about to have a nervous breakdown.

Time has moved us closer and further apart - physically is some cases and mentally in other cases - yet I am always amazed at the universe's ability to keep us in arm's reach of each other. Like I said, sometimes even when I can't stand them - I love them and I am convinced that after 20+ years, neither time nor space will change that.

Over the years, I've tried very hard to try to understand the ever-changing dynamics of my relationships with these women and just decided that these are complex and dynamic relationships that I may never fully comprehend. However, one day when I least expected it - the complexity of our friendships became overwhelming simple. There around the "cool one" we sang a song that has become a tradition for us at weddings, yet this time the words began to take on a new meaning...

"Thank you for being a friend.
Traveled down the road and back again.
Your heart is true -
Your a pal and a confidante.
And if you threw a party, and invited everyone you knew -
You would see the biggest gift would be from me
And the card attached would say
Thank you for being a friend."

And there it was. I realized while singing that no matter what life brought, no matter where I paths lead, 50 years from now, I'm sure that I will still be singing that song, with the same group of women, celebrating something -- and grateful that the universe knew better than I did and kept us in each other's arm reach for more years than any of us could have ever have imagined we'd be blessed with.

Lamaze Class

Lamaze Class...

When I signed Patrick and I up for Lamaze Class, I had images of floor mats, belly rubbing, and yoga stretches like the "Crouching Tiger" and the "Goddess Pose" in my mind. I imagined that we would learn a few breathing techniques like the slow-deep breathing exercises that Buddhist do ("Breathe innnnnn....HOLD. Breath outttttt. HOLD") or the theatrical "I'm going into labor breathing" ("whew. whew. whew. breathe in. whew. whew. whew. breathe in.")

To my surprise Lamaze was in fact a "Laboring For Dummies" class. As I stated before, I have been scared out of my mind about labor -- and fear of the foreign process called "childbirth" was something that I wasn't looking forward to. I was tired of people telling me about how many hours of labor they endured -- especially without helpful recommendations of drugs, sedatives, or narcotics that I could take.

Yet, during the course of our three-part Lamaze series - I realized that it was much more than a breathing class but it explained EVERYTHING about the labor process from A-Z. And because I am a simple woman -- one who merely seeks to know why and how a watermelon-sized being can come out of a hole the size of a quarter -- understanding the step-by-step process that allowed for this miracle to happen was just what I needed.

I always wondered how in the world a woman could be "in labor" for 24, 32, or 36 hours. I have never done anything that consistently in my life. But to now know that labor consists of four phases: early labor (light cramps), active labor (whoa baby! cramps), transition (why Jesus why? cramps) and pushing (Just get this baby out of me) puts it all in perspective.

I felt so confident after my Lamaze sessions that for a second I had a thought to go..(GULP)..natural! But after a few moments of reflection, I decided that drugs would still be the way for me to go. Nevertheless, I feel fully armed to pop this little monster out. So come on mucus plug, come on amniotic fluid -- let's get this party started.