You Kids Just Wait Till I Get Over Being Pregnant... [NOOK Book]


Picture this: It's late afternoon. The kiddies are up and running after a lovely afternoon nap. They are rested. You, on the other hand, are nine months pregnant. You Kids Just Wait... is a book filled with the rollicking mis-adventures of two 'Only' children who had five babies in five years and lived to tell the tale. Parents, Grandparents and all People who love children will love Joan Bramsch's tender, entertaining tale of Parenthood.
Read More ...
See more details below
You Kids Just Wait Till I Get Over Being Pregnant...

Available on NOOK devices and apps  
  • NOOK Devices
  • Samsung Galaxy Tab 4 NOOK 7.0
  • Samsung Galaxy Tab 4 NOOK 10.1
  • NOOK HD Tablet
  • NOOK HD+ Tablet
  • NOOK eReaders
  • NOOK Color
  • NOOK Tablet
  • Tablet/Phone
  • NOOK for Windows 8 Tablet
  • NOOK for iOS
  • NOOK for Android
  • NOOK Kids for iPad
  • PC/Mac
  • NOOK for Windows 8
  • NOOK for PC
  • NOOK for Mac
  • NOOK for Web

Want a NOOK? Explore Now

NOOK Book (eBook)
$6.99 price
(Save 12%)$7.95 List Price


Picture this: It's late afternoon. The kiddies are up and running after a lovely afternoon nap. They are rested. You, on the other hand, are nine months pregnant. You Kids Just Wait... is a book filled with the rollicking mis-adventures of two 'Only' children who had five babies in five years and lived to tell the tale. Parents, Grandparents and all People who love children will love Joan Bramsch's tender, entertaining tale of Parenthood.
Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780934334013
  • Publisher: JB Information Station
  • Publication date: 1/1/2000
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 150
  • File size: 149 KB

Read an Excerpt


We had hoped to space our babies a little father apart. Everybody kept telling us how great it was. "Two years is just right." Or more. But, as it turned out, we had five babies in five years. And this from two only children!

My Mama, another only child, would lament, "What are you trying to prove?!"

We weren't trying to prove a thing. We only wanted a family with brothers and sisters to love one another.!

It's all I ever wanted. And I loved those babies more than my life. If a conception came as a surprise, long before each was born I eagerly looked forward to the arrival, to hold my baby in my arms and to care for it. Whether we humans admit it or not, we all have a great capacity to love. We love abundantly. And it grows as it's needed.!

Thus, my dear Bill and I settled down for the long haul of raising our brood. It's been quite a journey and, even though the children have all left the nest and are self-sufficient--thank you, God!--we've discovered that parenting never stops. You get no time off for good behavior. Once a parent, always a parent. Forever needed for a piece of advice, some help in a tight place, or just a word of encouragement when our children need to hear we believe in them.!

This is not to say we've made parasites of our offspring. On the contrary, we've urged them to stand alone (but always held in the hollow of His hand), to find out who they are, to stretch and to grow toward their goals and roles in life. We've taught them, if they will only be still and listen, their pathway to Excellence will be revealed. We've told them: "Reach for your star. If you don't quite make it the first time,that's okay. We'll be here to catch you because we're a family. We love you."

Made in Heaven

Most people say good marriages begin in Heaven. Mine began in Minnesota when I was twelve years old and my husband-to-be Bill was only seventeen. One Spring my family moved from St. Louis, Missouri after buying a resort nestled on Mallard Bay in God's Country.

That first summer Bill came with his Aunt Sue, Uncle Jim and his two cousins, Jimmy and Sue, always and until this day known as The Baby. Goes to show you how nicknames can stick for life. So be careful what you call your kid. Scooter. Bootsy. Jelly-Belly. Caboose!

It was a sad time for Bill because his mother had recently passed away. There had been no warning. After only two days she died and Bill's quiet grief seemed impenetrable. He just wanted to be left alone.

But because I was only a youngster I had a hard time understanding his melancholy. I'd never lost anyone close and, although I felt his pain, I couldn't help thinking what he really needed was to play and have some fun. There is such a great gap in maturity between twelve and seventeen years. Needless to say, I decided to cheer him up whether he liked it or not.

That week we had a full camp, twenty-one kids in all. All sorts of mischief evolved. We played tricks on one another, swam, capsized boats and hid under them and, at night, played Release. I guess you could call Release an old-fashioned version of Tag. But it was different in that you hid and never came out until someone found you--released you. You couldn't move if ten-thousand mosquitoes chewed holes in your hide. Or a big black bear tried to eat you. No way would you come out; that is, unless you could make it back to home base, undetected, and slam into the Home base tree, screaming, "Free, free, free!"

During those warm summer days we practically lived in our swim suits so we could dip in and out of the lake at a moment's notice. I wore my brunette curly hair in two long braids, thick as a man's thumb. In those days this tomboy didn't think much about smelling sweet and clean. I had no time for all that icky girl stuff. Not yet.

At any rate, with all that dipping into and out of the water my hair repeatedly got soaked, then before it could dry I'd dive in again. It never occurred to me to open my braids to properly dry my hair so I wouldn't smell like a dead fish. The drip-dry routine usually lasted, at most, three days when I'd make the mistake of walking too close past my mother, who'd get one whiff of my swamp scum hair and order me to hit the shower. Seemed such a waste of time and shampoo because I'd be back in the lake within moments.

Besides I had more important things to do. Like making Bill laugh. I did silly tricks. Told corny jokes, which were the only kind I knew. But I was the only one laughing. I made dumb faces. And weird sounds. I tried everything, but nothing shook him loose. I simply could get no response from that boy. And I couldn't stand it. No one refused to laugh at me when I decided to be funny. Finally I vowed to get some reaction, or die trying.

One afternoon Bill sat alone at the end of the long wooden dock, gazing at the sky, lost in his very sad thoughts. How in the world was I going to help him? I wondered. A devious idea suddenly popped into my head. Silently I whispered a little prayer that my plan would work as I jogged in place at the top of the hill, building up courage and steam. Then I sprinted down the grassy slope, pounded onto the dock and didn't stop until I'd collided with Bill--who would someday be the father of my children--and knocked him flying into the lake. He surfaced, gasping for air and from the shock of the cold water, while I and nineteen other kids pointed and jumped up and down and rolled on the ground, laughing hysterically.

But then I watched the cold water begin to boil 'round his rigid form while his dark brown eyes grew black with rage, and I stopped laughing in mid-chuckle. He reminded me of great King Neptune rising from the deep. All he needed was his trident. He already dripped seaweed. Well, lake weed then.

If looks could kill I surely should have been dead. Bill's narrowed glare cut through me like fine-honed steel. That look, I would later learn, had a name--the Bramsch Look--and you don't ever want to see it.

Some people rant and rave when they're at the breaking point. But not my Bill. He just glares. I truly feared for my life and backed away from the edge of the dock. But the feeling suddenly evaporated because my misguided Good Samaritan mission finally broke the ice and, as Bill started laughing I whispered another prayer, this time in thanksgiving. Soon all twenty-one of us had a water fight to end all water fights. As for Bill and me, it was the start of a beautiful friendship that has lasted more or less solidly for many decades.

He would be embarrassed to hear this said, but I'm going to tell you anyway. He swears when he first met me, he thought someday I'd make someone a good wife. Something about being determined and single-minded, I think. There I was, only twelve years old. Still a virtual child! And yet he continues to hold dear, a picture of me with my long smelly braids, wearing faded blue jeans rolled to the knees, run-over penny loafers without the pennies (I spent them on bubble gum), and a grubby yellow T-shirt with iron-on Mickey Mouse decals from Pep cereal plastered all over the front, together with fish scales and worm juice. Little did he know he would someday be the man who got me for his very own good wife.

"Honey, it's an experience living with you," he has said. "I can't leave you now."

When I give him a quizzical look, then ask if he's planning an escape anytime soon, he clarifies.

"No, honey, I can't leave you because I have to see how this whole thing turns out."

And there you have the secret of my long happy marriage. Keep 'em guessing!

Receiving a whole lot of Blessings has helped,too!

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Be the first to write a review
( 0 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star


4 Star


3 Star


2 Star


1 Star


Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation


  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously

    If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
    Why is this product inappropriate?
    Comments (optional)