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Elliott Edison was born at 11:51 p.m. on Tuesday, July 6. He weighed 8 pounds, 11 ounces and was 20.5 inches long.

Holy canoli! I totally was not expecting a whopper like that, especially since Auggie was only 6 pounds, 9 ounces.

Anyway, I’m feeling really quite good — even better now that we’re home. You read that right, we’re already home. I find it impossible to get any rest in the hospital, so we got the OK from our docs to head home early, leaving only 14 hours after Elliott’s birth.

I’ll get the whole story down here at some point, but I kinda feel like I got run over by a truck at this point.

Pictures to come soon!

It’s been over a week since I updated… Not that we have anything new to report. Just wanted to let everyone know that it is officially the Due Date, and Baby Clauss has yet to make his appearance.

I thought for sure that he was coming last night, though. We’d been mucking all over town, going to the V.P. Parade downtown, walking to the air show down by the Arch, even walking to fireworks in Webster last night. I had some very interesting contractions on the way home and thought, ‘Oh, yay! This is it!’ I was even pestering Tim about whether to call my mom and put her on alert.

Luckily, Tim talked me down, because it was just gas.

D’oh.

We did get a good night of rest, though, which is good.

No plans for today, and Auggie really thinks that the baby should come out and see the fireworks.

I have no idea what that title means. Yes, I’m waiting in the doctor’s office right now for the 3rd of my 4 (at least) weekly visits. Yes, it’s the title of a Butterglory (anybody remember those guys?) song. What the two have to do with each other is locked away in my very sleepy pregnant brain.

I brought along my laptop today to get some work done while waiting. Last week, I sat here for over an hour waiting for the doctor, so I thought I’d come prepared today. I’m making a last desperate push to finish as much work as possible before labor. I did finish one piece, but completely flaked and thought I’d be able to do a little more research on another one while here. Hello? Not every location has wireless internet yet, my friend.

As far as this fetus goes, we’re good to go. Diaper service has got us stocked up, The Bag has been completed and picked up, doula is packed and ready to go (on her vacation, that is, she leaves on July 1 for the whole month), even Auggie is wondering when this baby is coming already.

Tim and I got to go out one last time last night to see one of my favorite bands, Spoon. The show was good, really good, but standing for two hours straight was not so good. Even the limited amount of dancing I did was not so good. The double-takes from all the barely-legals in the crowd upon seeing such a very, very pregnant woman as me weren’t that good, but were mildly amusing. Waking Tim up in the middle of the night with my screams of “Ow! Ow! Ow!” as I writhed in agony with a leg cramp was definitely in the “not good” category. The suffering we do for indie rock…

OK, so maybe there are a few things left to do. But they mostly involve cleaning my house and car, and you don’t really want to hear about my psychoses revolving around my mother and cleanliness, do you?

Time for some tough love here, Beth. You really need to just snap out of it. No more complaining about how huge you are, how uncomfortable you are and how sick you are of being pregnant. I mean, you’re not even due for another 10 days!

I don’t care how dilated you are. I don’t care about the weird cramps that wake you up at night, wondering, ‘Is this the beginning?’ Get over it. The baby will come when he comes.

Suck it up.

I talked the doctor into checking me last week, just because I couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. Was I dilated? Was the baby about to fall out any minute? Because it sure as heck feels like I’m sitting on his head.

So she checked. And she was surprised to find that I was dilated 2 cm and 50% effaced. If you have no idea what that means, consider yourself lucky and go and see a movie already. Because it means that you have no children and you should have a drink with lunch, totally.

If you recall, I walked around 4 cm dilated with Auggie for over 2 weeks. So it’s not like we haven’t been down this road before. Plus, we had to evict him by force! My labor never did start naturally.

All along, I’ve been like, ‘There’s no way that you are inducing me again.’ It feels like I got induced for all the wrong reasons last time (doctor was going on vacation, 3 days overdue, 4 cm dilation was making everyone nervous), but now that I’m this close, and this huge, I can totally see why I did it. I’m so ready for this to be over, so ready to meet this little baby who has been making such a ruckus in my belly these past many weeks.

So that’s the story with that.

Other news: Coco is still doing just OK. We can’t seem to get her diabetes regulated, so we just keep upping the insulin dosage. She’s losing weight, though, which she really needed to do, so that’s good. I feel like an Italian mother, though, looking at her. “You’re nothing but skin and bones! Eat! Eat!” In actuality, she looks better than ever.

If we can’t regulate her diabetes, we can’t treat her Cushing’s, so we may never get that option. I just want her to have a happy life, however much of it she has left. Of course, I was also hoping that we would have her squared away by the time this baby arrives, but that doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.

In the flurry of all this baby excitement, I completely flaked on Father’s Day. No cards, no gifts, just a lame “Happy Father’s Day” on Sunday morning. Before Tim cooked breakfast as I slept in.

I suck.

Auggie has had several semi-successful forays into big-boy pants land. Last week, he was pestering me to let him paint, so I explained that only big boys who went potty in the potty all the time were old enough to paint. He immediately walked into the bathroom and was like “bring it on!” So we’ve been touring the potties of South County for the past four days. I swear, this potty training stuff is way harder on me than it is on him. And not just because I’m hugely pregnant either (although that doesn’t help), but because every 30 minutes, you’ve got to pester them about whether they need to potty (they never do), every 60 minutes, you’ve got to usher them into the potty to try anyway (often after a threat or promise of a reward). I get the feeling that if it’s this hard, he’s not ready.

I guess that I’m just feeling that I’m not going to have time to do this when the new baby is here, so we might as well lay the groundwork now. He was so resistant to even trying on the big-boy pants before that I feel like we’ve made some real progress in that department, at least. This kid is so resistant to change. Any new shoes take days or even weeks to work into his wardrobe. To say that it’s frustrating is an understatement for sure.

My geez, I’ve prattled on here, haven’t I? I just want to get all this down, since it might be another good while until I get the chance to post again…

Things are way too negative around here lately. Sorry if it’s been a downer. Listening to me whine and moan about this pregnancy is enough to give a fetus a complex!

Some positive things about this pregnancy:

1) Relatively low-guilt eating. After obsessing over points and “lifestyle” programs and workouts for over a year (and subsequently losing 55+ pounds thanks to that obsession), it’s been pretty nice to let it all go. Now, getting it back off… But we’re being positive here!

2) Knowing what to expect, for the most part. Sure, the nausea was new, but most everything else has been relatively similar to when I was carrying Auggie. It’s amazing how much I forgot. One favorite memory this time around: Tim has his hand on my belly when the fetus does one of his medium-hard kicks. Tim jumps and says, ‘Wow.’ I say,’Isn’t that amazing?’ He says, ‘Yeah.’ I say, ‘Isn’t it even more amazing that you can get used to that?’ He says, ‘Yeah.’

3) Seeing the recognition grow in Auggie. He’s getting it. Plus, his stumbling upon some rather graphic photos in some of my birth guides has given him a good handle on exactly where babies come from. He can even point and say, ‘Baby comes out of here!’ This is going to be great at parties.

4) A much better doctor. Instead of having to educate this doctor about such “crazy notions” as perineal massage (don’t ask, really), she has been incredibly understanding. I feel like there isn’t much that I could throw at her that would make her duck. Now, if I ask her to pack up the placenta in a “to-go” box, that would probably get a look.

5) Discovering chiropractic medicine. This has saved my life, truly. Everyone should go to the chiropractor and get themselves straightened out, literally.

6) People are pretty nice to pregnant women, when they can tell that they’re pregnant. With Auggie, I was such a chub-meister that I don’t know if people could be sure that I was even pregnant. Oh, and if you’ve ever made the mistake of asking a fat woman when she was due and she’s just fat… No one wants to make that mistake.

Now, everyone wants to know “when’s the baby due?” I got so little of this the first time, it’s been a bit of an adjustment to realize that, hey yeah, people can tell that I’m pregnant! The complete psycho pregnant woman in me hesitates to answer the question definitively, because who knows if this person is just being curious, or if they want to wait until the baby is full-term, then kidnap me and… shudder. Let’s stay positive!

There’s been tons of other positive things, too. And now that it’s getting close to the end, I must admit that I might even miss being pregnant. A little. Especially when I’m dragging myself around Forest Park for the first time in over a year. And when I skip the waffle fries at Chik-Fil-A. And when I take a nap instead of emptying the dishwasher.

But we’re being positive!

I was going to post yesterday, I really was. And it was going to be a wonderful post about how we were exactly a month away from my due date and how excited I was to have only a month left. But then yesterday happened and the post did not.

The major problems of yesterday:

1) I smelled natural gas the evening before, yet neither Tim nor I had called the gas company to report the smell. For some reason, this annoyed me greatly. Tim called the gas company, they fixed the leak by our gas meter, but did not turn the gas back on, as I was gone whilst they were here. The big, fat poopheads did not come until the middle of Conan O’Brien to turn it back on. See point 2.

2) Our clothes dryer was officially pronounced dead on Thursday when Tim took it apart, found that two important (and fairly expensive) sensors were no longer working. We ran the numbers, found out that one of the parts wouldn’t arrive until next week and then the pregnant woman freaked out because I must keep my family clean. Their clothes, at least. My son hadn’t bathed for 4 days, but, by God, he’s got April Fresh socks on!

We went to the recently-discovered Sears Outlet store in search of a new dryer and –eureka!– we found an excellent dryer (7.5 cu. ft., baby – even I could climb in and dry myself at nine-months pregnant). Thanks to point #1, I did not get to give it a test run until this morning.

3) Auggie no longer needs sleep, apparently. He needs only caffeine. Wednesday night he woke up at 12:45 and did not go back to sleep until around 3. This is with me laying down with him in his bed the whole time. It was like a sociological experiment: every time I would start to fall asleep, he would toss and turn, waking me back up. I returned to my own bed after 3, vowing to never have any more children. Oops.

He also refused to nap yesterday afternoon, after falling asleep in the car for approx. 13.4 minutes. I struggled, threatened, cajoled, bribed and ignored him for over two hours. He fell asleep the moment Tim got home from work and I crawled into bed and wept.

Gosh, you know, writing about it all used to make me feel better. But today is one of those days (the second already this week!) where I am just done being pregnant.D-O-N-E. And the fact that we’re exactly one month minus one day away from my due date just makes me angry. OK, already. This baby is big and heavy and I’m tired all the time. Can he come out now?

But, really, is it worse to be tired and cranky with him still inside me, nice and safe and quiet, or have him here, crying and newborn-y while I’m tired, cranky and sore?

My, oh my, where does the time go?

Maybe I should just take things bit by bit.

The fetus: The big news here is that the fetus is still a fetus, despite a couple of bouts of interesting contractions. About a week ago, I had an entire evening of mild, painless contractions that Tim was timing at 5-6 minutes apart. Baby certainly got our attention that night, as the nursery was completely unready (not such a big deal, really) and it was really just much too early to be thinking about having this guy already. This week, it seems to me that he has “dropped” lower into my pelvis, which is nice when it comes to lung capacity, but interesting in that this usually happens about 2-4 weeks before birth. I’m playing it cool, though. I have faith that my body has things under control.

The big brother: Auggie is getting more into the idea of having a baby brother every day. We

went to a sibling class at the hospital last weekend, but I’d say that about 80% of it went over his head. He was pretty into the video part, which was good, because it told the story of a little girl who wasn’t so happy about having a baby sister. A little reality never hurt anyone, I suppose. I fully expect August to be calling for a return authorization for his baby brother within a week of bringing him home.

Delivery preparations: I’m feeling pretty good about where we stand with our birth plans. The doulas (the same one I used with Auggie and a backup) are set, my doctor is a dream, birthing pool is rented, instructions have been read and don’t seem overly complicated, and pretty much the only thing I have left to do is pack my bag.

However, when I was awoken Tuesday morning with a horrible cramp-like pain in my lower abdomen (probably from the baby dropping and stretching my muscles), I was nearly in tears. All of a sudden, I remembered what the pain of labor was like. Sure, I told myself that I would never forget that feeling, but I totally had. That cramping was so familiar and, after laying there for an hour trying to go back to sleep, I decided to go for a walk to try and do something with it. It wasn’t until I took a shower before lunch that the feeling finally went away completely. Here’s to water! Let it be my savior during this labor!

Tim: I’ve pretty much been freaking Tim out on a daily basis with all of these interesting sensations and such. He’s such a trooper, though, and I know that he’s looking forward to having some time to get a few of the thousands of projects on his list accomplished. Since Auggie and I will be visiting my mom this weekend, hopefully he will get to spend some quality time with his drill and spackle.

Oh, yeah, it was Tim’s birthday this week, too! Happy birthday, honey! Sorry that we didn’t have any money to get you a birthday present! Oh, wait, that’s right — you got a Cocodog for your birthday! Only slightly diseased! Seriously, though, major thanks go to Tim’s mom for watching a sick and cranky Auggie while Tim and I got to go out to dinner (that she even paid for!). Libby is the best!

Me: Oh, yeah, there’s me! Auggie and I were looking through my iPhoto albums this morning and I nearly wept when I saw pictures of myself from last summer. I was so fit! I was so tan! My belly was so not-pregnant! I’m trying not to obsess about the huge amount of weight that I’ve gained thus far (HUGE!), but I’m definitely looking forward to working out again once I’ve recovered from baby-making.

Coco: We’ve hit another bump in the road with Coco’s diabetes. She’s drinking a ton of water and having accidents all over the place. Plus, in the morning she’s not interested in eating after I give her an insulin shot. Tomorrow, I’ll try feeding her before the shot, just in case the sight of the needle is making her lose her appetite. Once we get the diabetes somewhat regulated, we can discuss our options for treating the Cushing’s. And we need to do that soon, as she’s starting to lose some hair on her chest (another classic symptom of Cushing’s). She’s definitely losing weight, though, which I think is a good thing.

Weeks of pregnancy completed: 34

Number of mild contractions while writing this: 2

Number of successful potty missions in the past 24 hours: 2

Meals Bookerdog has eaten today: at least 4

Thunderstorms in the past 3 days: Too many to count

This is where pregnancy gets ugly.

Oh, sure, things weren’t exactly glamorous during those first few months of nausea. And my amazing ability to regain all that weight I lost hasn’t gotten me any new suitors (except that Wendy’s guy, I guess).

But now, now, is when it gets hardcore. Now, we move beyond the “a new day, a new stretch mark” into totally new territory. I look in the mirror and laugh at myself. I’m a caricature! How can I possibly be expected to take myself seriously when I look so comical? My belly is really, really big. I can still peek at the tips of my toes, but let’s just say that I won’t be donning any hiking boots in the near future. I find myself drawn to slip-ons, totally. (The one good thing about being pregnant in the summer?)

Whenever I sit on soft surfaces, like, say, our new couch, for more than an hour, my back is completely broken whenever I must stand up again. And getting down on the floor to retrieve one of the millions of little choo-choos that have ending up under said new couch? That’s truly laughable.

Anyway, there are tons of things to kvetch about, but I will spare you the gory details (my modesty hasn’t completely fled — yet).

Seven more weeks to go.

In other news: The Derby was super-fun. My pregnancy/mothering thing left me unable to leave Tim out until all hours by himself, lest he get behind the wheel after too many drinks, or be hit by someone who had gotten behind the wheel after too many drinks. So this meant that I was out every night until at least 2:30. But we had good times with a good group of people who hopefully did not think that I was a dork who just liked to hang out with drunks.

Coco the Wonder Dog has fallen on hard times once again. We had been having some indoor accident-issues with her recently and I finally put 2 and 2 together that, duh, she had been drinking scads of water, having accidents only a short time after being out and, super-duh, she has gotta be diabetic, right?

Sort of. Turns out, she’s in a “diabetic state” due to advanced Cushing’s disease. This is a whole long story and if you want to hear the complete sad tale, you’ll have to call me. Sum total? Not good for Coco. Especially when she stopped eating for four days. But she’s now on insulin and eating again. We see a specialist on Monday to discuss our options.

Yesterday? I was ready to say goodbye to my Coco. She was that sad and pitiful. Today? All better! I swear that dogs are even more resilient than children.

Speaking of children, Auggie had such a great time at Grandma and Grandpa’s while we were in Kentucky. He even sported a fever, he was having such fun! While he was sick, I think it says a lot about the awesome-ness of my mom and stepdad that he wasn’t a complete basketcase. He played with cousins (actually, children of my cousins, but that’s a kind of cousin, right? I dunno, my head hurts), ate at McDonald’s and pooped in its Playplace, and shook the hand of every well-wisher at my mom’s church. Way to spread those germs, boy! Wait, I was talking about the cold. I’m sure

that my mother washed his hands at some point before church….

Tim is slowly recovering from his own version of Auggie Cold 2004 and I am thinking positive, healthy thoughts so that I don’t have to deal with that.

To recap: Number of visits to the Waffle House this pregnancy for a ham and cheese omelet: 4

Number of gummi bears consumed: Too many to count

Number of OB visits left (presuming baby arrives on time): 6