Last night The King came home while I was watching the end of The Latest Star Wars Movie. You know how horrible it is when someone starts watching late and doesn’t have any idea what’s going on?? That’s when they start asking a lot of questions.

The King: Who’s that?

Isabel: Anakin Skywalker.

The King: Who’s he?

Isabel: He will become Darth Vader.

The King: Who’s she?

Isabel: His wife, Padme.

The King: She’s pregnant?

Isabel: Yes, with twins.

The King: Really? It looks likes she’s dying. What will become of the twins?

Isabel: (Shocked at his question!) Are you kidding me? You don’t know?

The King: (Shocked that I’m shocked!) Why would I know?

At this point my head pretty much blew up from the shock of my husbands lack of pop culture knowledge.

Okay, please tell me that The King isn’t the only one in this world that doesn’t know the phrase; Luke, I am your Father.

(and am I the only person that was deathly afraid of Darth Vader as a child? Because damn, he scared me with that raspy voice and the crazy black cape. I admit he still creeped me out last night.)

Do you remember the first time you had a conversation with your parents as equals? I had that conversation last night over dinner.

We talked about raising children and what it feels like when your kids don’t make the choices you want them to make. We talked about what it feels like when your child get their drivers license and even though the thought of them getting in a car wreck makes you sick, you can’t keep them in the house all the time. We talked about my siblings and I and how my parents feel about us.

Yes, lots of feelings were discussed.

Since having my own baby, I have realized how much my Mom must love me. I don’t know what changes The King has been going through, I only know what I’ve been going through. And I love this little person more than I could have ever imagined. I keep thinking about what my Mom must have felt towards me when I was born, and how she must feel about me now.

I hope my parents are proud of me. I hope they think of me as a good person. I hope they like me for me, and not just because I’m their kid. I hope they know that I’m who I am today because of how I was raised and the good things they taught me. And although they probably haven’t always been the perfect examples to me, they taught me what I needed and did the best they knew how.

Last night my Dad brought up something that happened about 16 years ago. Neither one of us could remember how it started, but we both remembered that I ended up crying in my bedroom closet. He sat outside the closet doors telling me how much he loved me. He was crying.

I had never seen my Dad cry before.

Later my Mom told me she hadn’t either.

I remember him telling me how he wished his own mother was still alive and how much he missed her. He said he hoped I knew how much he loved me. I was a stubborn teenager and told him to just leave me alone. He told me he could never just leave me alone. He loved me and wanted to always be there for me.

I stayed inside that closet and just yelled at him more. I sat there thinking to myself that I wasn’t doing the right thing. That I was just hurting him. But I was young and didn’t care as much as I should have.

I had hoped that he had forgotten about that. But he hadn’t. And he brought it up last night which means he will probably never forget it.

I cried last night at the mere mention of “the closet”. Then I turned to look at my own sleeping baby in his carrier and hoped that he would always know how much I love him.

Goodbye Mom & Dad. Thanks for loving me and my little family with all your hearts. I’m already looking forward to your next trip out here.

Things are coming to an end at our house. The folks leave tomorrow. (See, didn’t those 12 days just fly by?) And I go back to work next Monday. (Hooray for me taking this extra week off!)

All in all I would say that this was a pretty good visit with them. I am not sure what The King would say, but I think it went well. They didn’t sit at our little apartment everyday for hours. I think that only happened the first day. Which wasn’t so bad.

Just like I knew would happen, I’m going to be very sad when they leave tomorrow morning. Tonight will be our last night to spend with them. And the last time for them to see The Baby. I guess what makes it hard for me is I know how sad leaving The Baby must be for them. I know I would be in hysterics if I had to leave him.

This week is all about being home for the last week with my new baby. I’m trying to keep notes on what his schedule is. Schedule? Yeah, right. Like my 2 month old baby has a schedule. But I’m going to try. That way when I take him to The King’s Mom’s house next Monday, she can sort of, maybe, kind of know what to expect.

Did I tell you that The King’s Mom will be watching The Baby for the first two months? We couldn’t get into the daycare we wanted until August. Even thought we started looking for daycare about 3 months into my pregnancy. I don’t care what the books tell you, you should start looking for daycare before you even get pregnant. (Frema, I’m talking to you!) Oh, and also start saving for daycare. End of “daycare” talk. It makes me too sad…

On a happier note, here are pictures from our trip to the Museum of Flight last week with the family. (For those who voted; my folks did pay my admission [hello, $15.00!], bought me snacks, but didn’t buy me lunch.)

This is an Aerocar. Which, according to the placard, American was totally ready for in the 1960’s. Hey, it’s 2006 and I’m totally ready for an Aerocar. Where can I get one?

And then we went to the Space Needle. Oh I jest. This is just a fake Space Needle at the Museum. I know, you’re shocked-since it looks so real and lifelike!

And now for the picture I took yesterday at my Aunt’s Church.

This is what happens when you are stuck all alone in the “Mother’s Room” feeding your baby. All the while all you can do is look at yourself in the mirror that is strategically placed. As if I want to look at me and my boobs for 20 minutes. Oh, and I could also see up my skirt. Yes, it was sexy.

Sexy, that is, until another mom walks in and totally catches you taking pictures of yourself in the mirror.

Then, not so sexy.

Older Dad Guy: We got rid of our TV a few years ago. Now we spend more time together as a family. We read books, listen to the radio and play games together.

The King: Wow. Really?

Older Dad Guy: It’s been wonderful. It totally changed our lives.

The King: That’s funny, because Isabel would say that TiVo changed our lives.

That’s right. I would say that.

There are so many topics to discuss today.

First and foremost, what is up with Blogger this week? I know I’m not the only one that is having issues. My video was all jacked up (I guess I can only blame Youtube for that one, right?) and my side bar…heck, do we even need to discuss my side bar issues?

I’m pretty sure I fixed the video from yesterday. Go here if you are just dying to see it. (See, I have a problem with talking things up and then having them not be worth all of the talking up. I’ll learn.)

The World Cup started today in my second favorite Country, Germany. The Baby has the cutest little shirt to wear to show his support for Germany and all things soccer (thanks, Katja).

I heard an interview on NPR last night with a German journalist, in which he agreed that the German soccer players “play like tanks”, but they would never use that phrase because it has to do with war. And Germans don’t like to talk about war.

While addressing The Baby’s birth announcements this week, I decided I am not Emily Post and don’t know the correct etiquette for addressing envelopes. When it’s to a couple, do I write out “Mr. and Mrs. Moss”, or “Jason and Stacy Moss”, or “The Jason Moss Family”? Or is it “The Moss’” or “The Moss Family”? Dude seriously, I don’t know. I am sure a simple Google search would give me the right answer, but that’s much easier. No, I want to lay in bed after a midnight feeding and wonder about it. (Oh my gosh, is it “lie” in bed or “lay” in bed? Man, I really should have paid attention in English 101.)

The Baby slept through the night two nights in a row this week. TWO NIGHTS. Which I take to mean I can now tell people, “my baby sleeps through the night!”. It’s official. Of course, he woke up once last night. So all bets are off. But I blame this on the fact that he had his shots yesterday.

Today my folks are driving into the city and are taking The Baby and I to a museum. A museum that I used to live less than a mile away from, but never took the time to actually go inside of. We should take bets as to whether or not they will pay my way, or even pay for lunch? The King thinks they will, since my brother will also be there and he’s so good at getting the folks to pay for everything he does. I don’t think they will. That means it’s 50/50. Start placing your bets.

Today I dressed The Baby in the first 3-6 month outfit. And although it’s awesome and has John Lennon on it, it still makes me shake my head to think that my tiny baby is growing up. And apparently faster than the regular babies. Oh well.

I guess I’d better get used to it.

OK, let’s try this video thing AGAIN. Go here to watch about .3 seconds of The Baby and me in live action.

As the entire internet knows, my Dad is in town. And since he’s the keeper of all things technical, I present you with a video he made. A real live video. Of really nothing at all. And of me not really saying anything at all. No tricks, just The Baby and me in live-action.

(That’s me and the FIFTEEN AND A HALF POUND 7-week old baby. Yes, his weight was confirmed today. And he’s “off the charts”.)