I feel like in some ways this pregnancy has been shrouded in a haze of too much going on. Every once in a while I think . . . I need to pay better attention.

Better attention to my body – how it’s growing, and moving and changing.

Better attention to the wiggles of a baby boy inside.

Better attention to the feelings of a mother anticipating a new one.

And I think about how motherhood is a gift. It’s complicated. It’s not all sunshine and roses. It’s not just sitting at the pool without a care in the world.

Motherhood is sacrifice.

Sacrifice of my body, my time, my energy, my own ambitions.

Motherhood is also blessings.

Like the blessing of knowing your own limits, and then being given that gentle reprive when they all finally fall asleep.

Like the blessing of being kissed a hundred times a day. And when you tell your son “you’re a great kid” he responds in kind – “you’re a great mom.”

And the big blessings too, like the eternal blessings. The one’s I don’t really comprehend, but I’m counting on.

And, the most exciting part of bringing a new baby to the family: childbirth.

I love having babies. Like, the process of childbirth . . . I love that part.

And I know, I know, I’ve had easy deliveries, so I don’t understand the women who really really go through it, and subsequently hate it. I’m not comparing myself to them.

But I find the miracle of bringing that baby through the veil akin to any priesthood ordinance my husband may ever perform on our children’s behalf. The honor that my Heavenly Parents bestow on me, as a daughter, and as a mother, to be the one to reach through the veil and usher a child to the earth, where they can continue in their progression of following the Savior (whom they chose to follow before the Earth was), is astounding. I can hardly bear the beauty, and certainly won’t ever fully understand the significance in this life. But I have some small feeling toward it, and it fills me with gratitude.

And I’m eagerly anticipating that experience again . . . hopefully within the next ten days.

Today we went to the pool for what I might guess will be my last time this summer . . .

**SIGH**

Calvin jumped off the high dive, even though he was shaking and tears were welling in his trying-to-be-brave eyes. He stood there for a full two minutes (I know because, of course, I video’d the whole thing). I stood pool side, looking up at that high, high dive, trying to offer words of encouragement. “You can do it Calvin, I know you can.” And when he shook his head “no, I don’t want to,” I tried to reassure him that that was okay too.

But in the end he took the leap. He flung himself from that board, landing in a partial belly flop, emerging victorious and in pain; and so proud of himself that he did it. And not particularly interested in doing it again.

I was so proud of him.

He can do hard things. And I want him to learn that about himself when the things he’s doing are hard, but not important. So that when something that’s hard, and also important comes along, he will have the confidence in his own courage to follow through with that as well.

And jumping off the high dive is not important, but it was hard, and it was exciting, and it was a great final chapter to our summer pool adventures.

I’m trying to carpe-the-diem of the last few days of our summer. (Once the baby comes, my plan is to hole-up in the house and not do much of anything).

So today we had friends come over and play. Kennedy came and played with Olivia, Cannon came over to play with Cal. I tried to find a friend for Everett, but no one was home. He and I played with Roo.

After friends left at 3, we all climbed into the car and went up to the cabin to see Daddy, who was still there from yesterday, working on the last finishes.

I was surprised how much he had done. It’s really starting to look finished. We just need to get the counter tops on, and install the sink and stove.

But the cabin was a bit of a bust. Kids were whiny, and we went to the lake to find frogs, but didn’t find any. Finally we just packed up and came home.