Sophistication

Just needed this one to go in the book.

doctor, doctor. give me the news.

the other day i counted and since Emerson was born we've been to the pediatricians office 7 times. which is a lot considering that he is only 10 weeks old.

the day he was born, he weighed 8lb 5 oz. when we left the hospital he weighed 7 lb 10 oz. which was a whole ordeal that was annoying and made me never want to have babies at a hospital in Idaho again. Did I ever mention that recovering in the hospital was like the worst two days of my life? I'm being dramatic but it was pretty sucky. No rest. No real help with anything. One nurse forced me to drink a can of prune juice. Emerson had a great latch the first couple of days. BUT I was forced to give him a bottle with formula because I was told in the middle of the night he had lost too much weight (now I know it was a normal amount) and it was the ONLY way. which messed up breastfeeding and then instead of getting real solutions to breastfeeding issues I was given temporary solutions which in the end made it where I couldn't exclusively breastfeed and made me totally hate breastfeeding because it was frustrating and exhausting. But anyway, I'm being a real whiner here. I just think it should be required for ALL hospitals to have certified lactation consultants available and not just L&D Nurses who all have different experiences with breast feeding and just give you advice based on their personal experiences and not actual knowledge on the subject. ANYWAY I'LL STOP RANTING.

then we went for his 3 day check up and he was back up to 7 lb 14 oz. So since he was gaining weight I took it upon myself to attempt to exclusively breastfeed again.

when we went in for his 2 week check up he weighed in at 8 lbs 3.5 oz. and I felt proud. "Screw formula!" I thought. But then the doctor said it wasn't good enough and to come back in a week just for a weight check to make sure he was still gaining. SO I kept breastfeeding.

a week later we went in and when I put him on the scale the scale said 8 lb 3.5 oz again. and I was devastated. I wanted to cry right there.  but I waited until we got into the car.  I failed as a mom. The one job I had was to make him grow and I couldn't. they told me to either supplement with formula or increase the number of feedings. I was exhausted and heartbroken. I felt like the only thing I was doing was feeding him non stop. They told me to come back AGAIN in a week.

So to my dismay I started to supplement with formula. In a way it was nice because Taylor could help with middle of the night feedings even if I hadn't pumped enough milk. But I felt so guilty.

A week later I took him and when he got on the scale he weighed 8 lb 14 oz. I was so excited! He had gained 10.5 oz in 7 days! My guilt started to fade when I realized that even though hippy moms all over the world might think I'm a failure as a mom, at least he was growing and back on track.

[In case you haven't been counting we are now up to 4 doctors visits.]

Then we went to GA for Christmas. I'm not sure where it happened but when we got home Emerson was sick. It was the saddest thing in the world. It was most just a stuffy runny nose but when he started coughing I got scared and decided to take him into the doctor even though his 2 month appt was only 4 days away. When I took him to get checked out he weighed 10 lb 10 oz. I was so relieved that he was gaining weight still. But the days following that until his 2 month check up he was spitting up A LOT and OFTEN because of all the mucous he was swallowing (I KNOW TMI but WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO? ITS MOM LYFE).

So at his two month check up he weighed 10 lb 5 oz. He had lost 5 oz. I had kind of expected it with all the throwing up. In fact he had thrown up in the car on the way to the appt. but I was bummed out because I knew they were gonna make me come back. Which I'll do anything to ensure that my baby is healthy but A) I kind of hate the pediatric center and B) loading a kid up to be somewhere on time is hard.

SO YESTERDAY we went back to check his weight AGAIN and homeboy weighed in at 11 LBS AND 5 OZ. I WAS STOKED! He had gain a pound in ten days. Putting him in the 15th percentile (he's a little guy, but at least he's on the charts)

This post turned into more of a rant than I had expected. But hopefully he won't need to go back until his 4 month check up. I just wish that *I* could be the one who had such a hard time putting weight on. sheesh.

Luh my baby though.

I can wait.

Once you become an adult, it seems like time flies a million times faster than it ever did before. Once you have a kid, it's even more so. Even when you're walking around like a zombie wondering how you are even alive with the little to no sleep you've gotten in the last month.

But even still I catch myself saying "I can't wait until he can...." about Emerson and immediately I think of him as a grown up, get sad, and I take it back and say, "Well, I can wait."

Things might be a little easier when he can sit up in the tub on his own and I don't have to hold him up by his bum so he doesn't get water in his ears. It might be easier when he can hold his own bottle. It might be easier  to carry him around when he can hold his head up on his own for longer periods of time. It might be more fun when he full on giggles at us. It might be more fun when he's a toddler who says hilarious things. It might even be more fun when he's big enough to play with the dogs. My heart might explode when he starts calling me mommy.

But right now is good too. Actually, right now is perfect. I know one day he won't need me for every little thing and that makes me a little sad to think about. So I'm trying to savor everything. Every smile, every late night exhausted feeding, every milestone, and even every poopy diaper.

 I can wait for him to grow up.

Emerson: month two

my happy baby
you've been with us for TWO MONTHS now. and surprise surprise, we still love you.

right now you're sick with a cold. i had to take you to the doctor to make sure that it wasn't anything more serious. fortunately it wasn't, but unfortunately I can't really do much to make you feel better. which makes me feel pretty helpless. plus, you've cried more the last couple of days than you have in your entire two months of life. it makes my heart hurt. BUT you've still managed to give me a few smiles everyday and that makes everything better.

we got to go to Georgia for Christmas! It was your first Christmas (obviously) your first plane ride (obviously) and your first time in Georgia (obviously). You did awesome on the plane. (That probably won't be the case next year when you're mobile.) and Your nana and pop and aunts and uncles and cousins loved you! We got to have family pictures taken while we were there and you slept through the entire photoshoot. I guess I'll let it slide this time, since you are an infant and all. Your cousin Paisley REALLY loved you. She kept calling you babies" and any time she would see me or your dad with or without you she would say "Babies! Babies! Babies!" When you wore your sweet little bear suit she wanted to carry you around like her baby dolls.

you've started smiling a LOT more. you kind of laugh sometimes too. we have conversations back and forth. You don't really you know, use words-- but I get the idea. You love to PLAY. You started kicking and punching (dancing) when you lay on your back so I thought it might be a good time to get you an activity play mat. you probably don't really understand what you're doing but you do grab the rings on the toys and hit them and it seems to make you excited. You're basically a genius. I mean, for your age. Keep this up! With any luck you'll be a child prodigy and make us rich so we can leave Idaho.

You are the coolest and we love your face off!

love, mom

2013: our year in review.

I love the New Year. It gives me a chance to be nostalgic about the previous year and hopeful for the new one. 

in spite of living in the most boring state on earth. (or at least definitely in the top 10 most boring) we had a pretty eventful year. having a baby will do that do you, I guess. I've been really bad at blogging which is actually a good thing for the sake of the year in review post because I won't be beating too many dead horses. BUT it's a bad thing because Taylor wasn't able to print our blog book like he usually does because I  only had about 15 posts and it would have been a waste. So officially, I failed at blogging this year. I resolve to blog better in 2014.

Anyway, with the assistance of my photo journal aka instagram I am going to review this years events.  

January 2013: We started out the New Year in Las Vegas with my best friends. My BEEF, Jenalee, her husband Scotty, and her sweet babe Gracie. We partied medium hard. When we got back, Taylor forced me to start a job at a call center in Idaho Falls. Between the worst job in the world and the negative temperatures in Idaho, I was basically the most depressed I had ever been during the course of our marriage. Then Tayl told me that we couldn't have a baby for another 3 years.

February 2013: My horrible job motivated me to find a better one immediately. LUCKILY within 2 weeks, I did. I got a job at a car dealership and things started to really turn around for me as far as being depressed goes. My previously mentioned beef and her offspring came to visit for the first time and then we went to Utah to go to her parents mission farewell before they left for London. One day, after work, I was bored and decided to paint my nails. While I was getting in the cabinet to get my polish, I saw a pregnancy test I had from a previous pregnancy "scare". I had no reason to suspect that I might be pregnant because my period wasn't due for a couple of days. But, I was bored, and thought, why not? So I peed on the stick that would change my life forever. Almost exactly a year before this, I had a chemical pregnancy, so I decided to make sure that this was for real before I told anyone, even Taylor. I waited about 5 days to tell him. I told him some shoes I had ordered for him had arrived but they seemed "small". So I put some baby shoes (that I bought before I even got pregnant) in an amazon box with the positive pregnancy test. When he opened the box he stared back and forth at me and the box in disbelief. I was pretty emotional but I thought that he looked like he was mad so I started crying. But he finally smiled and laughed and cried. So I knew that I wasn't going to end up living in the streets with my baby after all.

March 2013: I finally started to get morning sickness. We got to go to the doctor and see our little man on the ultrasound, which was pretty mind blowing. We made a trip down to Manti for Easter. Other than that, I continued to secretly be pregnant. 

April 2013: We finally announced our pregnancy to the public when I was a couple days shy of 12 weeks. It was exciting and made it seem even more real. This month, we let our pals the Youngbergs borrow my car to go to SLC. They got into an accident on the highway and my mazda was totaled. It was sad to say goodbye to, but we are grateful everyone was okay. We finally decided to take advantage of the fact that we live less than two hours away from Yellowstone. It was kewl.

May 2013: We purchased our new car and traded in Taylor's NITRO. Now we have a 2013 Chevy Malibu and 1998 Chevy Blazer. HOLLLAA. We also got to go to a place in SLC to find out if our fetus was a boy or a girl at 15 weeks. It was fun because my dad got to be there with us. As you know now, our baby has a penis and is a boy. May is also the month of my birth which typically falls on or around memorial day weekend. This year it did. So we headed to Vegas again to be with my BFF. She surprised me with tickets to Thunder Down Under. So many butts. SOOO MANY BUTTS. On my actual birthday I woke up sick. It was the pits. Especially because when you're pregnant you can't take any medicine that actually helps. So I spent the rest of the trip sickly. My baby bump started to show.

June 2013: Taylor decided it would be a good time to get surgery on his nose and throat. It was 7 different procedures in one go. He was pretty miserable for about 3 weeks. I don't mean to be a victim here but it was hard on me too. Mostly because he wasn't well enough to give me the copious amounts of affection and attention he normally gives me that I had apparently taken for granted. Also, because I was pregnant and entitled. I didn't want to do anything for MYSELF let alone anyone else. We survived. I believe it was during this month that I hit my 20 week mark of pregnancy which also meant that my morning sickness FINALLY ended.

July 2013: The Giddens came to visit. Sheryl, April, Jamie, Jeff (for a couple of days) and Paisley. They painted my front rooms for me and we went to Bear Lake. They stayed for about ten days. I was sad when they went home. I finally started putting together the nursery. As in doing things BESIDES buying baby clothes. (I mean like a lot.) I got a dresser for 50 dollars and a rocking chair for 18 from the thrift store. I was pretty proud. 

August 2013: I decided that it was time to take Taylor down to the Demolition Derby in Manti. I just really felt like he wouldn't understand me until he did this. I was right. Unfortunately it hasn't been nearly as eventual and crazy as it used to be when I was really young. But I felt like the most important part was definitely the enviroment, the surroundings, the people. And he at least he experienced those things. Roscoe, got to wear a diaper for the first time. Because he wouldn't stop pissing on things at Holly's house. On the way home we picked up the crib from my dad's house. When we set that up in the nursery, that's when things really started to feel real. But only kind of.

September 2013: You could really start to tell that summer was ending in Idaho. Because of our lack of air conditioning and being pregnant, I was ready for the heat to go. (But now that we're into winter-- I take it all back) In the beginning of September we had a crazy storm. I LOVED it because it reminded me of Southern storms. Unfortunately though, it flooded our basement. BUT FORTUNATELY, our basement isn't finished and it went back down the drain. I had my first baby shower thrown by my step-mom and my aunts (dad's sisters) it was wonderful but unfortunately, it rained and they had set everything up outside. The next day we went to the farmer's market at Wheeler Farm and found boiled peanuts. It was the best. I finally had to take my wedding ring off before it cut my finger off. The 19th marked the 10 year anniversary of my mom's death. It seemed and still seems crazy to me. 

October 2013: THE MONTH OF MY DUE DATE. I had another baby shower thrown my by my amazing cousin Ranee. She basically had been working on the shower since the moment she found out I was pregnant. She put so much work and thought into it and it made me feel so loved. The one thing I can never do is try to claim that no one loves me. I have a lot of love in my life in spite of the fact that I am pretty lame sometimes. On the 18th, I had my last day of work so that I could relax and get a few last things ready for baby. the first week or two, or at least until my due date, it was LOVELY. I napped HARD sometimes a couple naps A DAY. but then I started to get bored and impatient. Halloween came and I was hoping for contractions and labor pains but all I got was trick -o -treaters and the privilege of putting costumes on my dogs. 

November 2013: It's pretty weird to me to think that I went almost half of the month of November still pregnant. Since I definitely thought he would at least show up the first couple of days in the month. I honestly don't remember what those days consisted of other than trying to kick start labor naturally. But honestly, I don't think those "tricks" are real. So I didn't try to hard. I just tried to rest and be patient. My aunt Holly and my grandma came and my aunt was basically the opposite of patient and came before the baby did. Luckily he did make an appearance while she was there though. Also, this month, I had a baby, did you know that? No big deal. BEEF Jenalee came the day I was discharged from the hospital to stay for the weekend. For Thanksgiving we went to visit my dad. Luckily Emerson is travelin' champ. 

December 2013: I spent the majority of December trying to adjust to being a mom. Let's be honest, it's the last day of December and I'm STILL trying to adjust. Basically at all times I just worry that I'm not doing the right thing. But I hear that's normal. We also decided to get real crazy and fly with our six week old to Georgia for Christmas. I can't speak for the flight home yet (since I am writing this from GA) but the flight here was pretty easy. He slept the whole time. Gosh he's a good baby. While we were here we also decided to have Emerson's blessing on Sunday at Taylor's parents house after church. It was great. I think I'll do all my baby blessings at home. And we don't want to go home on Friday. (Idaho < Georgia) Or at least I don't. So that mean Emerson also doesn't. Because he gets my emotions from my breast milk. That's how science works right?

Forcing myself to go and review our lives month by month has made me realize that actually we're still kind of boring, especially because I named things like "taking my ring off" as though that is an event that warrants an honorable mention. But none the less, we have a beautiful wonderful perfect baby boy and we still like each other as much as we did before we had a baby. So I think we're doing okay. And I'm not trying to do that thing where I tell you how great my baby is because I don't wanna sound like I hate him even though he is actually a terrible baby, he really is great.  In real life. You can ask anybody. 99% perfect, when he starts sleeping 8 hours straight at night, he will be 100% perfect. Sorry. (not sorry)

Here's to better blogging, and even more Emerson instagram pics in 2014. 

Happy New Year!

Emerson: month one.

ohhh my baby. 

you are our favorite thing. i mean we're really obsessed with you. it's okay that sometimes you keep us up at night. or pee on us (mostly your dad). or poop everywhere. or make it more complicated to go anywhere or do anything. we love you so much. and it's not just cause you're adorable. (which, holy crap! you really are) it's because you are ours and you are the greatest blessing we've ever received.

the first month of your life has blown by. just like i knew it would. it seems like every day you change a little more right before my eyes. you're growing fast! but you're still so tiny. as of tues. 12/10/13 you were 8 lbs 14 oz. you don't fit into any of your clothes yet very well, except your newborn clothes. which we don't have very many of. sometimes it's frustrating but I know one day you're going to be too big for these tiny clothes and i'll probably cry when i have to pack them up and save them for a rainy day, or another baby. It was rough enough when we had to switch from newborn diapers to size ones. which mostly only did because we ran out of newborn diapers and didn't want to buy more. but still, sad. i cried a little about that. about diapers. i guess i've gone soft.

no offense, but you're pretty predictable right now. you eat, sleep, poop, pee, and repeat. sometimes you sleep for a long time at night. but sometimes, you're like, naah. but i don't expect too much from you yet. within the last week, you started smiling at us. mostly me. you like me. a lot. you like your dad too. but i think i'm your favorite. (i better be) you like it when we sing to you and you really like it when we listen to music. especially Drake. and especially when I sing a long. 

you had your first thanksgiving two weeks ago. you did so good! you slept the whole way in the car and you let everyone pass you around without too much fussiness. everyone is in love with you. it's probably because you're perfect. your grandpa and grandma coffin are almost as obsessed with you as we are. you are already so spoiled. i can only imagine how it's going to be when you're older. but that's okay. NOW we hope you do just as good on our travels to GA for Christmas to see the Giddens. but i'll let you know. I'll love you no matter what.

sometimes you like baths, sometimes you don't. i think you're cute all the time but you're especially cute when you're fresh out of the bath and your nakie. i cuddle you up in towels and blankets until your little lip stops quivering. OH and you love to take naps while we hold you. and i love to do it. but i'm trying to slowly start breaking that habit. the last thing we want is for you to be a difficult sleeper. but right now we are enjoying how cuddly and sweet you are. 

we are loving every second of everyday with you and we really look forward to our adventures with you.

love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck! xoxo

-mom

sometimes you give birth to a kid.

I love my baby. I love him so much i can hardly comprehend it. It actually terrifies me how much I love him because it makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. However, what I loved less was the process of giving birth to  him. That's not to say I HATED giving birth because things were relatively easy and we both made it out healthy and alive but... let me explain.

I hate that I have to even say that. That I didn't *like* to give birth. I did so much research about childbirth. I would almost say that I knew too much for my own good. I knew that my body knew exactly what it needed to do and the pain was just my body doing the work of getting my baby out. I knew that I wanted to have a natural labor with a midwife at a birth center. To my dismay though, that wasn't how it was going to work for me. When I got pregnant I discovered that my insurance would cover EVERYTHING in a hospital and NOTHING with anything else. Some women would say, "it's worth the 5 grand +!" but that wasn't really in the cards for us. SO I made the best with what I had. I created a birth plan and told my doctors that I wanted to have a natural birth and they were on board. I wasn't delusional by any means, I knew that sometimes things happen when you have a baby and things don't go the way you want. 

BUT, things were going well for me. I had a very healthy pregnancy. My blood pressure was perfect, my pee was clean, my glucose levels were fine, Emerson's heart rate was perfect and his head was down, I was gaining the exact right amount of weight etc etc. So I figured, having the birth I want, should be no problem. I even chose to deliver at a hospital that was totally cool with women having natural deliveries. Everything was fine.

Then, my due date came and went. My OB asked me if I wanted to be induced. I said no. He'd come when he was ready.  So I waited and kept going in for my check ups. To my dismay, my blood pressure started creeping up at each subsequent visit. When I went in at 41 week 5 days, my BP was too high for my OB to be comfortable with so he said we needed to induce. My heart sank. So, we discussed the ways to get labor started and we came to an agreement that I was most comfortable with. I was grateful to have a doctor that listened to my concerns, discussed things through with me, and didn't bully me into things I didn't want. 

So we went home to get all my stuff I had packed. After that, we said a prayer in the car and stopped for lunch and went to the hospital. I wasn't even nervous. Why wasn't I nervous? I have no idea. I was about to experience something completely insane and then my life would be changed forever afterwards and there was no turning back. But at 12:45 PM on 11/11 I was like, no big deal, Let me put on this hospital gown that someone probably died in at some point and watch Honey Boo Boo while my cervix ripens. So for the first few hours, that's what I did.

Apparently contractions were coming but I couldn't feel them other than a little tightening. I would occasionally get up, walk around, pee, snack, whatever. Then I would have to get back in bed to check my blood pressure and the baby's heart rate. Fortunately, as I relaxed my blood pressure started to go down, but it wasn't down very much. And then I had to get Antibiotics in an IV because I was GBS positive and that burned my veins. It was really uncomfortable. At about 5:45 my OB came in to see how I was doing. He decided it would be best if he broke my water. I wasn't super stoked about that. But my BP was betraying me. So he did. And once he did, things really got going. I started to feel the contractions and within three hours they got really intense. At that point I had switched nurses and the new nurse was someone who had delivered her babies naturally, so she showed Taylor how to push my legs and knees into my hips to help relieve of some the pain during contractions. It did help a lot. What I really wanted was to get up and walk around but I had to get another round of antibiotics and my blood pressure was creeping up again. So I was stuck in the bed in pain. I did my best to work through them with the help of my wonderful husband but by 10:45 PM I was exhausted and at my wits end and my blood pressure was insanely high. Like I was about to have a stroke. It was like 200/110 or something. The last time I was checked I was at 5cm, and about an hour later I started having urges to push and my contractions were out of control. At one point I had 3 contractions that overlapped each other and the peak of the pain lasted about 5 minutes straight and the baby was squirmy so they had me on my side to get his heart rate which for some reason intensified the pain of the contractions and all I could do was lay on the bed and writhe and scream in pain.  So the nurse checked me again and I was at 8cm. I was so relieved to know that the pain was actually moving things along. I thought, Okay, I can definitely do this! I'm almost there! So I asked how much longer, and she told me 3-4 hours at the most. At that point I wanted to cry. I looked that nurse right in the eyes and told her I wanted the epidural. It was strange because I had always feared getting to that point in hospital, where I broke down and decided I wanted drugs and I would get it because it was available even though I probably could have done it without it. But in that moment, I was so exhausted, I would try to close my eyes and rest and then a contraction would hit and rest was not an option and so when I decided to get the epidural, I felt no guilt, I felt no fear, I was in survival mode.

when the anesthesiologist came in I felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Apparently I wasn't breathing very well so they put an oxygen mask on me. Looking back, I'm not sure if I should have been more scared about that mask but I didn't care. contractions were still coming every minute or so. When he told me I had to hold perfectly still while he jabbed me with that sweet sweet poison I was genuinely scared of being paralyzed or something. But I did it. I had a super intense contraction during that moment but I squeezed Tayl's hand as hard as I could and then it was over. 11:45 PM Within minutes I started to feel relief. For the first time in hours, I was able to smile. I wanted to kiss that anesthesiologist on the mouth. I was back to being excited about my baby coming. The strangest part of the epi was that I could move my legs, and I could still feel when I was having a contraction, but I just didn't feel any pain. I thought I would basically be useless from the waist down.

So I was finally able to just rest, I actually slept. Not well, because I could still feel the contractions (not pain). But, it was the rest I needed. I'm not sure I would have been able to push the baby out of me otherwise. Also, my blood pressure dropped dramatically. I was back in normal ranges. Around 4 AM, I started to push and blah blah blah I'll spare you the gory details but at 5:10 AM my little perfect goopy bundle of joy came out of my womb and into this crazy world at 8 pounds 5 oz and 21 inches long.

Looking back, as time has passed, I am totally okay with how things went down. BUT, the first few days I felt a little internal guilt for getting drugged up while I was giving birth to my baby. It made me upset to even think about it. I was ashamed. I didn't think I would ever be able to tell people my birth story let alone put it on my blog. But in the end, I did what was best for both of us in my situation. As we approach Emerson's one month mark, the most valuable thing I have learned is that the worst thing I can do is go online and read what other mom's are doing or have done. Mom world is a scary world. I'm not an expert... yet. But my baby is healthy and growing and happy and so am I, and so that means I'm doing okay. And everyone else in mom world who judges, can suck it.

eviction notice.

Dear small person who has taken up residence inside of my uterus,

While I have really enjoyed the time of your stay over the last 9 months, it's time for you to evacuate the premises. I would ask that you would preferably do so in the next 5 days. (I MEAN IF YOU WANNA HAVE AWESOME HALLOWEEN THEMED BIRTHDAY PARTIES..... just saying.) I realize that you're nice and comfortable up in there, it sounds nice. But unfortunately my body can no longer tolerate 3000 trips to the bathroom a day, (1500 of them being in the middle of the night) the kicking of the ribs (which feels to be with the force of a fun-size Chuck Norris), having to have help to roll my large sumo-like body out of bed or off of the couch, and also, my knees are having a tough time with this extra 30 pounds you've seem to have brought with you.

It probably sounds like I am complaining but I'm not. (Okay, I am a little) But I would tolerate all of these things a hundred times over for you because I love you. Which is weird. We've never even met. The closest we've come to meeting is when you high five me with your feet. (it's my favorite) And anyway, because I love you, I want you to just be out here. Not just for me but for everyone. I don't REALLY wanna share you but I think I probably have to. Your dad is pretty excited. So excited that he's reading about breastfeeding right now and annoying me with facts. He loves to do that. I'm excited for him to be able to take out his desire to teach everything he knows (which is a lot. probably too much for his own good.) on you too instead of just me.

Now I'm rambling. The point is that WE WANT YOU TO BE HERE ALREADY! I mean I hardly sleep anyway and I'm getting pretty bored being at home waiting for you and running out of TV shows to watch on Netflix, so come on out. Anytime. Preferably soon. Like tomorrow. Or Tuesday. Or now.

Plus, I have so many clothes for you to model. The dogs are getting tired of me dressing them up in your clothes.

Okay well, I love you either way. Even if you do decide to be stubborn and not come out until Thanksgiving. (Actually, that would be unacceptable, so don't get any ideas.)

Love,
The landlord aka Mom

ten.

today I am 34 weeks pregnant. and 10 years without my mom.

yep. 10 years.

I didn't think I would make it here. Once I met someone who's mom had died 10 years prior and I thought, there is no way I will be able to last that long without a mom.

But, here I am. And I feel okay. I feel good. I feel happy. As my baby kicks my ribs to hell, I feel better than I have ever felt before on this day. Obviously, there is a hole in my heart that will never be filled, but the people that have come into my life, (and those who have stayed) over the last ten years have made my life worth living. And I love every single one of them. I just feel insanely blessed. I feel blessed that to be alive and healthy. I feel blessed to have the wonderful family that I have and that I acquired through marriage. I feel blessed that I inherited so many wonderful things from my mother, but that her terrible taste in men wasn't one of them. I am sooo happy with where I am today (and I hope that she is too.) and the number one reason is that I have an incredible husband. And soon, we'll be adding a sweet little baby dude to our crew. (Who I know in my heart has already met my mom.)

As life goes on, you never forget the people that you've lost, and the pain never goes away. But time makes things easier and love makes it possible to go on.

You can see past blogs about my beautiful mom here & here. 

this is an update on being pregnant.

I'm really good at being pregnant, but really bad at it at the same time. My already chubby body was basically designed to carry a child. I am really glad I hadn't discovered the joy that is maternity pants before I got pregnant because I probably would have shamefully worn them all the time. I am already dreading the day I have to fold them up and save them for another pregnancy. I am tired a lot of the time, which is actually not hard for me because I was already lazy. I'm fine with resting A LOT. But I'm bad at being pregnant because I haven't been doing things like, taking weekly belly pics, drinking wheat grass shots, and/or scrap booking. My nesting skills are severely lacking unless you consider buying too many adorable and/or ridiculous baby clothes to be nesting.

25 weeks and I need a freaking hair cut.

Two things that are not my favorite thing right now. Number one, hot flashes. Especially while at home during the day. We don't have central air or any air conditioning on the main floor for that matter and our living room can get up to 88 degrees by 3 PM. Combine that with a hot flash and I basically rip my clothes off and cry. Tay does not understand. I'm sure he thinks I'm a crazy person. On Sunday I went in the backyard and laid on the grass in the shade, in my underwear. I didn't even care if the neighbors saw me through the fence. The second thing is getting up to pee in the middle of the night, sometimes multiple times. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if I didn't have to go downstairs to get to the bathroom. I'm seriously considering a bed pan. A fun side story, one of the last nights that the Giddens were in town (better blog about that too.) April and Jamie had a stomach bug. The toilet was occupied for the majority of that night. When I woke up at 3:30 AM to relieve myself, I prayed that it would be free, but it was not. So I did what any desperate person in my situation would do, and I peed the in the backyard. And I'm not ashamed.

Honestly, now that I review these things, it is obvious that the set up of my house is mostly to blame for these discomforts. But I will survive.

I get asked a lot about if I have any weird cravings. I'm not sure if people want me to tell them that I have been eating toilet paper or something. BUT I have fortunately not been interested in anything that would not normally be considered food. There hasn't been anything specific that has lasted my entire pregnancy that I've craved. It really varies. But when I crave something I HAVE TO HAVE IT! Lately the object of my obsession is Mexican food. Namely, tamales. There's a Mexican guy who comes into my work everyday selling Tamales and burritos. He hadn't been in for a couple of months until recently, when one day I was like "MAN I WOULD KILL FOR A TAMALE RIGHT NOW" and then not even 4 minutes later, TAMALE GUY WALKS IN. It was a miracle. A delicious miracle. Ever since then, I can summon him with my mind whenever my craving kicks in. He is my best friend.

In other news, this little dude kicks me like a lot. I shouldn't say kicking because I have no proof that he isn't punching or head butting or butt butting or elbowing. He is most active in the night time. Which is kind of inconvenient but is so cool that sometimes I forget he's keeping me up. I haven't had morning sickness in a few weeks! So that's something to celebrate! Also, lately a thing I do is that I freak about the fact that A) he has to somehow come out of me. B) We will be in charge of not totally ruining his life for the next 18 years. and C) what if he is an ugly baby?
I'm hoping these anxieties will pass, but for now I'm just trying to enjoy all the good stuff while I can. Like people touching my belly, afternoon naps, maternity pants, feeling him move around and having him all to myself, and of course eating food.

Here's my sexiest cutest preggie selfie. try to resist pinning it to your maternity inspiration board, because it will make everyone else look bad. but for real, the face I'm making is a little bit terrifying.