Normal.

With my first

my mom came a week before my due date-

and Robs was born two days later.

It was a breeze.

With my second

my mom was scheduled to come on the due date.

Erik showed up two weeks before her flight even landed.

Steve's sweet li'l mom covered his first week...

And then my mom picked up where she left off.

It was a breeze. And it was warm outside.

With my third

...thinking I knew what I was doing...

I had my mom come a week and a half before the due date.

In anticipation, I stepped up the walking.

Introduced some running again.

Jumped on the trampoline...

Climbed an eleven story building five times...

You catch my drift.

Nothing worked.

So at two days past my due date, and four days left with my mom...

I asked to be induced.

(Something I thought I would never do.)

(Never say never)

It felt like a grand caper.

Steve and I showed up at the hospital at midnight.

I started the whole process at one.

Begged for mercy, sleep or a combination of the two by 5:30am...

Broke my water at 6:30...

And had a sweet little baby at 7:19.

(I'd been awake for 27 hours.)

It was quite the experience.

The actual birth was stellar. I could not have asked for better.

But the hospital...

I will leave you with this:

Please don't ever give birth in Louisiana.

But everything turned out great.

And Steve took this past week off.

Which means tomorrow is where I start 'normal' again.

Robs and Erik are both asking what normal means now.

Of course, they don't actually ask.

Instead Robs just teases Erik... relentlessly.

And Erik does what he wants, regardless of my motherly wiles.

It's an adjustment.

But today it was lovely.

So we played outside. With a bundled up Mae.

And it felt almost normal.