Today Lennox Conley Marcucci was born 8:27am weighing 7lbs and 11 ounces and measuring 20.5 inches. Baby and Mom are doing great and the twins are excited to have a new toy to poke and prod.

Justin


Lennox Snoozing.


The whole family.


The twins bringing mom some flowers.


Grant holding Lennox.


Kellen and Lennox.

Last Friday, the boys and I hung out with Becky and Ben and packed in some great last-minute activities before we will be carting around five kids ages two and under the next time we venture out! We made it for two library story-times (incident-free this time!), and we enjoyed lunch with the geese by the lake. We also snapped a few pictures to document our final days of both our second pregnancies.

My mom got me thinking recently when she asked what would it be like to have pictures of our relatives---the generations of mothers before us, when they were pregnant? I wish I could get my hands on those. I wish I knew if they existed. I do have a few of my mom when she was pregnant with me, and I've enjoyed seeing what my mom looked like when she considered me and thought about who I would look like, act like, and become. I also like to see how things have changed: hair, dress styles, faces. So my progeny will have plenty of photos of this pregnancy---thanks to the digital age, I suppose, and thanks to Becky for bringing her camera and capturing the moments! ---SM

"If you are ever in doubt as to whether to kiss a pretty girl, always give her the benefit of the doubt."
---Thomas Carlyle, b. 1795



Above: Marcuccis and Shipleys by the lake.

As a kid, I never thought I'd see the day when yard work would attract me. I mean, do the acres of lawn ever quit growing? Do the tree branches ever taper off?

What began as a chore has become a sought-after activity as I get to spend time with my family. Now the yard gets a good pruning, and the whole thing is more about beautifying the places where we like to hang out instead of having to get a job done. Amazing.

Maybe my perspective is askew since this time I watched rather than worked (impending birth and all), but still, I had a few retrospective moments as I took in all the chopping going on around me:

Dad stands high on the ladder chopping off the dead branches from the evergreen.
Staci stands by a pile of branches and chops pieces to fit on the curb for recycling.
Mom sits in a chair chopping Kellen's growing back hairline.

Chop, Chop. Chop, Chop. Chop, Chop. Heavenly. ---SM

It's a countdown: five more days and we will officially be a family of five. For me, it's just a complete trip.

This week I've had a difficult time deciding whether to do more---because managing two toddlers on the outside has become "relatively" simple, or to do less---because a newborn's nightly sleeping and eating schedule will make for an exhausting few months to come. It's a true toss up, so I take every chance I get to take the boys out during the day, and then I am reminded of the sleepless nights as my own woes of being in the ninth month of pregnancy weigh heavy on my bladder, back, and body temperature.

Yet what an amazing thing pregnancy is.

Everywhere I go, people are their kindest and feel they have something to talk about with me. Strangers are more polite, offering me their chairs in public places, holding elevators and doors, or softening the way they stare into space when they spot the belly then seemingly reflect on the literal and symbolic joy that a new baby brings. Friends and family offer up all they can to show their love and welcome excitement for the new life.

My mother-in-law often says, "Everyone loves a baby," and I believe she's right-on. It's this instinctual, natural occurance that isn't partial to gender, age, or any other classification.

Nine months. It's time! ---SM


Above: My 9-month belly silhouette

So this morning we ventured to our library's story-time---a regular outing one day during the week, but this time, stay-n-play followed. That's where the librarian takes out a few bins of toys and the kids can play for a while. Of course, Grant was one of the first kids on the scene, but in his eagerness, he got too close to the librarian and she accidentally bumped into him. He stood right where he was, curled his lower lip, then gave one long shout-out. I was able to quickly calm him until a few minutes later---already on edge, he had a melt down without relenting.

It was one of the more forceful screams that I've heard in a while. A little girl came up and took his cars away, and he was m-a-d. Anyway, there were about 20 mothers and their kids in the room, and I seemed to feel the earth stop, as though I were in one of those films where the main character is going strong but everyone else has been paused. Except with this scene, the people were actually staring, somehow causing my already elevated 9-month-pregnancy temperature to climb higher. Paranoia even set in, because I swore I heard someone say, "Are you ready for your second kid yet?" and I'm thinking what about a third?

I scooped up Grant, who continued to scream, on my walk across the room to pick up my bag, then, thankfully, Kellen only needed two reminders before he let go of his toys and we all headed out the door. I wasn't sure what to do because we were far away from any outdoor exits, so all I could think of was "be calm." I took Grant into another library room and bent down in front of him, wiped away his tears and said, "Listen to mama, Grant, just calm down. I know you're frustrated." Unbelievably, he listened and his shouts became intermittent.

As fortune had it, Kellen decided to self-entertain. He had located the nearby water fountain, climbed on the stool to reach it, then couldn't quite get the concept of the water pressure so he began sucking with all his might on the plastic piece. Sigh. That was the moment I wished I were an octupus so that one of my eight arms could stretch out to yank his mouth away. Oh, and the bowl that catches the water in the fountain was so shallow, that as he dipped his face into the spout, his sweatshirt fell in and attracted much of the excess water. The bright side? His activity distracted Grant enough so that he completely stop crying.

Once we collected ourselves, we were able to walk over to the book area to select a fresh crop of books then check them out as well (that's always a step I'm never sure about since it's all self-checkout and my hands are busy lining up barcodes rather than paying attention to my 2-year-olds) Wow. I think this week's visit tops the intensity scale.

Following our literary adventure, we arrived home where I exhaustedly began making PB&J sandwiches. Kellen snuck off somewhere upstairs but was quiet, so I honestly didn't care if purple paint was slathering my walls. He'd call down every once in a while as if to check in, so I always knew where he was stationed (I later discovered he was just playing with his puzzles.) Then Grant parked himself on the floor beside the open pantry door and manhandled his way into the giant box of goldfish crackers. He had that look on his face like, "boy, I'm so suave to be helping myself right out of the box." I didn't care about that either. I just needed the silence as I returned a phone call and received empathy from a mother of three girls. She said she couldn't recall how many story times she had to walk away from. What a relief.

And as for me completing this post right now? Thank goodness for naptime! ---SM

A few weeks ago, I hired a photographer to shoot some family pictures for us, and I do mean the whole family---Justin, Kellen, Grant, me-with-the oh-so-growing-belly-and-ankles, and even the bus!

Of course, the cutest pictures were those of the boys by themselves, but isn't that what mother nature intended? Parents end up thinking their kids are the cutest things to hit the planet and then justify everything extra, beautiful, and praiseworthy in their name. (Thank heaven for that because it helps me to forget the sleepless nights, the never-ending runny noses, and the constant demands of my attention. Wait, and I'm having another one!? Well, of course!)

I wanted a setting more casual than a studio, and I had dreamt of the scenic oceanside or the monuments that mark San Francisco (like the bridges, the city architecture, etc.), but pragmatism kicked in when I tried to imagine driving an hour north with the boys in tow (including Justin) and expecting them to be in a good, photogenic mood. Instead, the photographer drove down to us in the South Bay, and we settled on a local park just minutes from our house.

The wildflowers were still in bloom and the slides were electro-static (note Kellen's hair in one of the shots), so the whole thing ended up exceeding both mine and Justin's expectations.

Oh, and a word about getting toddlers to pose for photographs: marshmellows. A trick I learned from my dad. Works every time. ---SM






Photos by Kira Stackhouse, www.nuena.com

We went to the beach twice this week---both times with Gram and once with Auntie Staci. The trips were both refreshing get-aways, with the boys loving the seaguls and sand. They also remembered the more temperate Hawaiian waves as they headed for the first time toward the same Pacific ocean, just a couple thousand miles north. Anxious to make a splash, they oh-too-quickly felt the chill of the Santa Cruz waters and headed straight back to higher ground!

Still, they managed to keep their toes wet as they stood fascinated by a large sand crab who layed belly-up on the shore. They took turns tossing the forlorn crustacean toward the ocean, until it was swallowed back into the tide, then waved it farewell.

Our second trip had Kellen miserable with sunscreen in his eyes, so my mom walked him up to the restrooms, rinsed his eyes out, then he promptly fell asleep for more than an hour. Grant played blissfully by himself, as though he were an only child and without making a moan, then he'd occassionally lay down next to his brother as if pretending to also nap.

Our drive home may have been more adventurous than the beach for the toddlers. We were parked for more than an hour on highway 17 behind a fatal crash that blocked the roads and exits. The boys thought it was a party because they got to climb into the front seat and play with all the buttons and switches while the car was off. They giggled almost the entire time. Now when Kellen sees a fire truck in his book collection, he says, "Staci," recalling sitting next to my sister when all the fire trucks and ambulences passed us by. ---SM

Yes, we are struggling with what to name baby #3, so thank you to all who have offered and continue to offer suggestions. Even after having named two boys already, my guess is that naming, in general, is all a frame of mind: what I would have named a kid in my childhood wouldn't cut the mustard today. And what's sentimental to me in a few years, will obviously not cross my mind now.

Also, my family and friends may very well not approve of the name that will eventually become baby #3's. I remember when my parents told my grandfather that my sister's name was to be Staci. My grandfather said, "What kind of a name is Staci? That sounds like a train station!" Ahhh, but I can't imagine my sweet sister by any other name. Amazing how that works, isn't it?

Anyway, all is not lost on our naming strategy to date. Justin and I look through books, online, and breathe in every suggestion that comes our way. This morning offered up an even different perspective.

The boys and I sat for a mom-n-kids photo shoot, and to get the boys' attention, the photographer asked each twin what he would name the new baby. The answers came clear, quick, and concise. Kellen said, “bus,” and Grant said, “hot dog,” in that order.

So, I present option number one: Bus Hotdog Marcucci. Has a nice ring, huh?! ---SM