Rocking

So, my darling daughter doesn't talk much -- she signs. She is a serious communicator, but not necessarily in the verbal sense.

For example, the term rock/rocking.

Initially, when her cousin Ansleigh was born in March, I told Livi that we rock babies. I pretended to cradle something in my arms and rocked them back and forth. She immediately picked this up as her sign for rocking babies. It's very sweet to see. She often tells me that she's going to rock her baby brother or sister when they arrive.

Fast forward to about a month ago, when Livi heard the song Barbara Ann by The Beach Boys. She loves this song. To bits. And pieces. When she dances to it, she moves and grooves around the room. And when it gets to the line, "You got me rocking and a rolling, rocking and a reeling, Barbara Ann, Bar-Bar-Barb-Barbara Ann," she stops her crazy dancing, and starts making the rocking motion with her arms. That's right. She's a genius. Mindset shift from rocking a baby to rock and roll. Atta girl.

And finally, this morning she and Bert were outside playing at our fountain. Bert asked her what she wanted, and she looked at him and did the rocking motion. Do you know what she wanted? Rocks. To throw in the fountain.

Genius, I tell you. Why talk when you can use signs?

Dreams

I have had some strange dreams lately. I know it's a result of pregnancy and all of these hormones running around in my body -- but sometimes I still wake up wondering, "Where in the heck did that dream come from?"

Last night I had a dream that I was going to work (which happened to be in Powell County High School in Deer Lodge, MT -- Go Wardens!) and I could not, for the life of me, get to my office. Instead, I was climbing stairs with the Minnesota Vikings. I kept thinking, "I need to make sure I don't fall since I'm pregnant," and thankfully, I didn't. The weird thing about the stairs, though, is that they weren't normal stairs. You had to climb over the railing to get to the next set of stairs. I also kept thinking that I should get some autographs for my dad, since he's a huge Vikings fan.

The night before I had a dream that Ryan, Olive and I were sleeping outside, and I looked up and saw a black bear at the top of the hill. I asked Ryan if we should go inside, and he said, "Naw, it's fine. Just be really still and go to sleep." Then Olive got scared and started crying and the bear started running towards us. Thankfully, I chose that moment to wake up.

Don't you wish your dreams were this exciting!?

Reminiscent of summer

I don't know what it was about the evening tonight, but for some reason it left me thinking about the summers of my childhood. It seems that they twenty-something-dates of June were about when the summer "routine" set in. My parents, wanting to teach us the beauty of responsibility, would usually decide we'd had enough un-scripted days, and would leave us a list of chores to do. These chores were to be completed before we had any freetime for the day. Nana was the enforcer (which meant we had about two hours of grace time built into the system). The list usually looked something like this:

Berglet to-do:
1. Weed two rows in the garden.
2. Pick up the dog poop in the lawn.
3. Help Nana with the laundry.
4. Water the trees.
5. Go to swimming lessons.
NO MORE THAN 30 MINUTES OF TV!!!

Love,
Mom and Dad

The tasks were usually completed by noon or 1 p.m., and we were then left to our own devices. This usually entailed Griff and I running off to play, and who knows what Laine and Candra (the "Little Girls") did.

Griff and my play list usually included the following:

1. Halter-break the calves. (We tried; they didn't want to be trained.)
2. Swim in the creek.
3. Ride the 4-wheeler.
4. Ride the horse.
5. Go for a bike ride down The Backroad.
6. Swing on the ropeswing in the top of the barn.
7. Play on the swings.
8. Play in the dirtpile.
9. Race our bikes.
10. Run through the sprinkler.
11. Capture every snail that came down the river.
12. Practice baseball.

As the "Little Girls" got older, we incorporated them into our activities. We're kind siblings like that.

I hope that Olive and her little sibling will play and get along like I did with my siblings. And, I hope they're creative in the way they fill their days. I so glad we weren't over-scheduled and had time to just be kids.

Threes

Good things come in threes, right?

No, this isn't an announcement that we're having triplets. Nor will it turn into a retelling of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, The Three Little Pigs, or Three Blind Mice.

It is simply to say -- to acknowledge -- to revel in the fact that -- I've blogged for three days in a row.

To some, this is an accomplishment not worth mentioning. To me, it's hope that I will continue this pattern.

Cheers to threes.

It's going to happen.

Even if I really have nothing to say, I'm going to blog two days in a row. You know why? I like blogging. Contrary to popular belief, it's not a chore -- even if I sometimes make it sound that way. There is something very freeing about putting finger to keypad to type out some thoughts. And as I type right now, I'm remember a cute little story about my baby girl that happened just yesterday.

I was sitting on the couch (not feeling great -- par for the course) and we were all getting ready to go to Grandma and Grandpa's house for dinner. I had just helped her put her shoes on, and she decided I needed to put my shoes on. There were four or five pairs sitting in the entryway, and she went over to pick one out. I was so curious to see which ones she'd pick, and if she'd even get a matching pair.

So, what does she grab? The fanciest shoes in the pile. The red high heels. The other options were all brown or black casual shoes. She proudly sets up the red shoes and points to them and says, "Mom!"

From this experience, I have determined:
1) My child has good fashion sense.
2) My child may be more outgoing than I originally thought. (I mean, red is a pretty outgoing color.)
3) My child is cute. Really cute. (I already knew this, though.)

(For the record, I didn't wear the red shoes. I asked her to get me a different pair. She went for a cute pair of black ballet flats. Still good taste. :)

It's hard to blog...

When you don't have anything to blog about.

The thing about pregnancy, for me, is that it's all-consuming. There are few moments in my day when my main thoughts don't revolve around, "Don't throw up. Don't throw up. Don't throw up."

Bert has become accustomed to me speaking in short, direct, two word sentences. "Love you." "I'm sorry." "Food please." "Drink please." "Hate you." (Just kidding on that last one... most of the time.)

The weird thing for me is that I can't read books outloud to my daughter without getting gaggy. I don't know what it is, but reading two sentences sends me heaving. "One fish, two fish, red fish, *barf." My sentences to her consist of "Love you." "I'm sorry." "Gimme kiss."

Siblings in far away places (Oregon), I still love you. I just can't talk on the phone. Text messaging is my preferred mode of communication.

Some may find my silence a blessing. I'm just ready to be able to be my normal, chatty self again. Isn't everyone?

Mark your calendars!

Friends, I've been lacking in creativity and motivation. I feel like I'm in a season of life where I'm being humbled. I think it's a good thing, but it's incredibly difficult to walk through at the time. All in all, and not to sound cheesy, but I think it's helping know where my identity lies and what is important in life. I have so many blessings (my hot husband, for one -- and a gorgeous daughter, for two), and I'm learning work is just that -- work. Sometimes fulfilling, sometimes disappointing -- but not where I'm going to stake my value.

With that in mind, I'm excited to announce that we're adding baby #2 to the family mix! I'm due Dec. 15-ish. So far, I'm feeling crappy, but much better than I did when I was pregnant with Baby Briese #1.

Bert and I can only seem to come up with boy names -- is that a sign? With our first, we could only come up with girl names. Interesting.

And to my friend John -- congrats on your baby boy!!! He's beautiful (and he's still young enough that I won't offend his manliness by saying so), and you and your bride are going to be awesome parents.

Yay for new life.