Let the Pregnancy Insomnia Begin. Easter 2019.

It's that time. I thought I had avoided pregnancy heartburn this time around, but here we are. I go to bed earlier than Dan, but the past couple of times he has crawled into bed, it has woken me up and I can't go back to sleep. My legs are always kicking, my heartburn has arrived, and my bladder is constantly full.

It's a shame because sleeping is one of my talents. I sleep anytime I sit down. I can't get through the opening credits of a movie. I can't have a conversation after 8:30. Sleep, come back! I miss you.

I'm 32 weeks. I feel like it's a tricky time because it seems so near the end (in the 30's!!!) but still EIGHT weeks from my due date. Eight weeks?!?! That's a lifetime.

Of course, I need a lifetime to get prepared. Not only does this baby not have a name, I haven't pulled out a single onesie, bought a single diaper, set up a proper sleeping situation, etc. We have decided to start tackling these projects THIS coming weekend so that Baby No. 4 isn't wrapped in hand towels, sleeping on a piano bench and named some random household object like Tupperware McGee, or better yet letting the girls decide, which would ultimately result in the name Elmo Poof McBottom. Baby No. 4--your future at the Jolley household is looking REAL GOOD.

So with this extra nighttime "energy", I have tweezed my brows, eaten 43 mint-flavored Tums and am ready to update this blog with our boring non-festivities from last week's Spring Break.

Spring Break was low key, and I loved it. A big part of my life is rushing kids around, and my kids hate being rushed. So we took the week to chill out and take our time from place to place. We went on a walk and picked wildflowers that are currently being pressed in big and heavy books from our bookshelf that we somehow own and have never read.

We're hoping to make bookmarks tomorrow.

We continued our walk all the way to the park down the very long street we live on, and there were three other kids there, and my aggressive children immediately went up to the three shy and mild-mannered children and insisted they be friends. It was a bit of a hostage situation for the other three kids, but everyone seemed to have a good time.

After awhile, Harris made it known that he was ready to go back home by just camping out in the stroller.

On the way down to the park, we walked by the house of one of June's classmates, and the mom happened to be outside and asked where we were off to. When I told her the park, she took one look at me, pushing two kids in a stroller with June (not known for her physical stamina) by my side and my pregnant belly and asked, "I know you can get down there, but will you be able to get back up?"

You see the way down is all downhill, and the way back up is extremely steep. I LOVE WALKING and figured it would be no problem. But after a good long walk down to the park and a good long while playing at the park, I began to doubt myself.

So I called Dan and asked what time he was planning to be home to see if he would swing by and pick us up. Poor man had the craziest week last week. I feel like all of the other dads I knew took last week off to go with their families on vacation for Spring Break, but Dan had a huge meeting and presentation on Friday, and he worked the hours of two people preparing for it.

Nevertheless, hero that he is, he came and picked us up and had dinner with us before working from our basement until the wee hours of that night.

By the way, his presentation went well. When he came home Friday afternoon, he was both relieved and completely exhausted. And then on Saturday, he ventured out to take care of some major yard projects we have been slacking on while I stayed inside and did some indoor projects.

After a terrible week of work, I began to think about how a yard work project was probably so satisfying to Dan. You can see the progress you're making, you're digging about God's good earth, the whole bit.

So I called out my theory to him and asked him if he was feeling super satisfied.

He said no, he wasn't. He wished he were still sleeping.

Haha.

The kids were his little "helpers", i.e. Gwen helped with vigor because tearing things out of the ground is right up her alley, Harris just ran around, and June "supervised" and "cheered everyone on". And then they came inside, covered in mud and needing a bath, which bathtub I had just cleaned as one of my indoor projects and was then quickly dirtier than ever from the muddy kids.

After everyone was gussied up from the bath, we made Easter cookies and decorated Easter eggs.

We tried the shaving cream method this year. It did not work and was a total bust. Yay.

And then this morning, I tried making cinnamon rolls from the can look like bunnies like I saw on Pinterest, but these were clearly bears or mice or something.

And the kids looked cute for church.

I was asked to speak in church for Easter. At 32 weeks pregnant. I cried and had snot running down my nose for the entire thing. I'm grateful I was asked though, because I was able to work on the talk a little bit each day of this last week, and it made me feel more spiritually prepared for Easter.

I might post my talk tomorrow, but for now I'll just say this--He. Is. Risen.

And that's the best news we could ever have.

After church, we had a ham dinner and an Easter egg hunt. I made these girls close their eyes because they kept trying to peek as to where the eggs were being hidden.

Finding their baskets.

Harris got a headstart.

And then they were off.

This is my favorite hiding spot every year. Classic.

I love Easter. It's my favorite holiday.

The End.