She cracks me up.

I'm working up a post about all the crafty goodness that comes from this woman, but I can't stop staring at this picture.  I hate this picture of myself - but I love this picture of US.  Know what I'm saying here?  There is a certain amount of joy that is tangible in photos of true friends - friends who haven't seen each other in too long - friends who lived together in 'historic' houses through hot Macon summers with no air conditioning - friends who get each other and complete each other - friends who always make you laugh and don't know the meaning of TMI.  She's my designer, my fashion guru, my authority on motherhood and blogging:

She's One Rad Mother.

Consider me showered.

On Saturday, Cameron and his friend took the three kids to The Falls for the afternoon while Mom and Alice and I trekked into the big city {okay, fine - Smyrna - almost the city} for a baby shower of epic proportions.  I'll give warning here that I am seriously responsible for almost NONE of the photos that follow.  I was socializing. 

The baby shower was thrown by three of the most amazing and outwardly classy women that I have the priviledge of calling my best friends. {Outside of the public eye, there may have been some swigging of champagne directly out of the bottle, but I'll never tell.}  We've been thick as theives since college, minus a couple of dark periods.

Best hostesses ever.

{Photo courtesy of my sissy.}

There is so much that I could say about these ladies - but because I don't actually feel like crying tonight, I'll just say that I love them beyond measure and I'd be lost without them.  I could call any of them and they'd be wherever I needed them to be in 30 minutes less than Google maps says that it'll take.  They've loved me when I was unloveable.  They have allowed me to make mistakes and forgiven me with open arms when I realized that I was wrong.  They throw one heck of a shower.

There was delicious cake...

And delicious snackies that included two party trays of Chic-Fil-A - cause it's good chicken, y'all!

The decorations were beautiful, and I was particularly blown away by the diaper cake courtesy of that amazing redhead, EM.

She says it was her first attempt - I don't believe her.

I made almost everyone pose with me for pictures because pregnancy makes me sentimental - and because I have a blog to think of.  I haven't received all of them yet, so here are just a couple of my faves.

Poor Brandon was an awesome sport, even though he didn't know what to wear to a baby shower, and I don't think he liked being forced to rub the belly. Please notice the rocking necklace that I'm wearing courtesy of Four 37 Designs.  I'm obsessed with it.

Great photo of Aunt Juliet, my mom, and my mother-in-love.

I was blown away by the generosity of my friends and family and how much they already love Baby Bo.

I learned that you should always have 2 of the favorite lovey in case one has to go into the wash or gets left at Nene's house.  I might have talked to monogrammed monkey heads - don't mind me.

I can't begin to tell you what an amazing day it was or how much I appreciated everyone being there.  Guess I should stop blogging about it and write some thank you notes.  :)



Yeah - I love him.

I haven't figured out buttons yet.

This morning, I woke up, rolled over and scooted towards where I believed my husband would be.  I wanted a quick snuggle before I ran out the door to work.  I woke up quite abruptly when I realized that he wasn't there.  I waddled to the living room, expecting to find him on the couch - he and Dr. Who have been pulling some late nights recently, but he wasn't there either.  In just a minute, he came stumbling out of Tyler's room, still wearing his blue jeans and clutching his back.  He spent the night in a twin sized bed with a squirmy 4 year old to protect him against whatever boogieman had been after him last night.


He is our protector, our provider, and our everything.  I've seen him go without sleep, work multiple jobs, and cook delicious and nutritious meals out of practically NOTHING when it was necessary.  Through it all, he always makes time for his family - for each of us individually AND for us as a unit.  He demands togetherness when the rest of us roll our eyes.


He tells people all the time that in our relationship, he is the reacher and I am the settler.  Truth be told, he made me a better person because he believed in me so strongly.

GET ON MY BELLY!

33.5 weeks!

So - I had avoided taking another belly photo.  I was waiting for a day when I might actually be wearing make-up or putting in some effort.  However, getting out of bed and working 9 hours is about all I've got right now, and the rest is just the cherry on top.  Don't expect any cherries out of me for the foreseeable future.

So - here I am... in all my pregnant splendor.  And let me tell you something about my belly: I'm proud of it. I get tons of emails everyday about pregnancy and everything that goes into it.  There seem to be a ridiculous number of women who want to know how to keep people's hands off their bellies.  I can't completely identify - maybe I haven't been fondled by enough strangers yet.  I've always been a hugger, so I don't have much of a problem with physical closeness. 


I rub my belly all the time.  I feel for little feet or knees or elbows or whatever that is that's poking me now, and I poke back.  I massage.  I knead.  I love on him.  I play with him.  


Bo is already my most incredible accomplishment ever, and I want to share him with the world.  I want other people to know how strong he is, how hard he can kick, how squirmy and fun he is.  I'll gladly share him with you.  Just let me know.

Who's got my title?

It is amazing what good sleep will do for your mental state. 

Bo and I went for our weekly check-up yesterday.  You may know that I have been disappointed by pretty much every ultrasound that we have had, because he’s like a deer in headlights when they place that wand on my belly.  He freezes and backs away SLOOOOOOWLY.

Yesterday, though, he danced like no one was watching!  He wiggled and squirmed and reached for his toes and tried to get his hands in his mouth!  All the movement meant that the still photos were all a little blurry, but the little guy got 8 out of 8 points on his biophysical profile.  They measure muscle tone, body movements, breathing motion, and amniotic fluid volume.  Last week, we got 6 out of 8 – no breathing motions.  Laurie, the ultrasound tech, assured us that it was just a little early for him to be getting all 8 points, so we didn’t panic, but it was amazing to hear that he got all 8 points this time!

He’s already rocking the honor roll.  I promise not to put a bumper sticker on my car… yet.  :)

Rocking and Rolling

Dear Peekers,

I'm pregnant.  I know - I know - you might have gotten the memo.  However, I feel that it bears repeating, because suddenly, I FEEL pregnant.

This may sound whiny to you, but this is one of those posts that I am recording for me.  My sincerest apologies - I'd probably just skip this one if I were you.

XOXO,

Me

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I am 33 weeks pregnant.  Up until week 32, I felt AWESOME.  My hair had luster, my skin glowed, and my fingernails grew like never before.  As of my doctor's appointment one week ago, I had gained 9 pounds since the beginning of my pregnancy.  I had spells of being tired, but a quick nap always enabled me to work through it.


Suddenly, in the last week, I became the stereotype for pregnancy.  One day, I ate french fries, and my fingers and toes swelled up like little sausages.  The swelling went down slightly, but it didn't go away.  My ankles were swallowed by my calves.  I went from lovingly dressing my bump as a fantastic accessory to grabbing the first thing in my closet that still manages to contain the rapidly expanding belly.


I have adjusted my work schedule to accommodate taking a half day every week to visit the baby doctor - getting up earlier and taking shorter lunch breaks takes more of a toll on me than it ever has before.  


I have 5 pounds of human camped out in my midsection.  Bending is hard.  I run out of breath putting on my shoes - not that they fit anymore.  I rock and roll everywhere I go.  I *rock* myself out of whatever chair I sit in.  I *rock* myself out of my car.  I *roll* myself off the couch and out of bed.


For the first time in my life, I actually believe that schedules are flexible.  I'll get where I'm going when I get there.  I don't have the energy to rush.  


I am sore - every evening.  My legs stay numb or tingly - and I can't decide which I'd rather deal with.  I move from chair to chair to couch in the living room before I remember that I'm just *not* going to get comfortable, and I give up and go to bed.


I feel like a ticking time bomb.  Two nights ago, I lied in bed, unable to sleep, because I couldn't stop thinking about what a mess it was going to make when my water broke.  (Yes - I know.  Typically it isn't a gush... but I didn't say that I was rational right now...)


This baby is coming - ready or not.  I'm trying to plan it out in my mind, but there are too many unknowns.  I need a bag - one at home and one in the car.  I need a plan for how it goes down if I'm at work or at home.  I need a plan for if it's daytime or night time.  I need a plan for if the kids are here or if they aren't.  I'm overwhelmed and panicked, but I'm still breathing.


I think that this is normal.  


If it isn't, maybe you just shouldn't tell me.


*********************************************************

Edited to add:

How did I forget the heartburn?  I woke up in the middle of the night this week choking on my own acid reflux.  Disgusting, I know.  I was there.  Why do I want to remember these things?  I dunno.  But I do.

Lessons learned.

I love my hometown.  I do.  I love most small towns, but I love mine the most.  I can probably say this truthfully because I left for most of my 20's, and came back to kick off my 30's. 

Homespun is a yearly festival with arts and crafts, music, rides, food, a parade, a 5k, a duck derby, and topped off with fireworks.  It's always hot and crowded, and for me, at least, it's always worth it.

This year was the first year that I've attended avec bebes, and like pretty much everything else, they only made it more fun.  I have a lot to learn about life with kids, and Saturday was no exception. 

I started the day at 6:30AM by greeting runners who were registering for the 5K.  This was special for me because it is run by our church - Crossview Community Church - and it was the first event that I volunteered for last year when we started attending.  This year was almost twice the size as last year, as now we are a qualifier for the Peachtree Road Race.  It was a busy morning!

After the race, I met Mom, Cameron and the kiddos at the First Methodist church for my favorite Homespun tradition - hot breakfast cooked by the Methodist men.  Unfortunately, after breakfast, Cameron had to head off for work, leaving the kiddos and me to our own devices.  We made one lap around the festival to check it all out and decided that as soon as the parade was over, we'd head back toward the bouncy houses.

1st lesson - You CAN have too many balloons.

Too many balloons leads to tangles and general mayhem.  These are fantastic kids, though - Tyler lost a balloon, so Des let him have one of hers.  A little later, Des lost her remaining balloon and Tyler gave her one back.  This was all with NO prompting.  *happysigh*

Des loved the parade - it was her favorite part of the day.  She loved the clowns, and she positively beamed when one threw confetti on her.  I watched her jump up and down on her toes in an act of completely unbridled joy.  {For a minute, in my eyes, she was 4 years old again.}  She also wanted to ride on the firetruck.  She says that she'll be a cheerleader if she can ride on the firetruck.  That brought me back to the present.

We did some bouncing on the bouncy houses post-parade and then headed home for cool-down, lunch, and naptime.

When Cameron got home, we headed back down for his favorite part, the food trucks.

There was chicken on a stick, homemade chips (ribbon fries?), fried fish, fried pickles, a blooming onion, and fried cheesecake.

2nd lesson - Take a blanket.

We sat in the grass to eat our fill of greasy fried deliciousness.  The tables were all full, and because I'm usually content to stand and eat, the logistics of sharing platefuls of food off the ground with two kiddos under 7 who were overly concerned with grass and every tiny bug that crawled by didn't occur to me until we were in the moment.  No harm, no foul, I suppose.

3rd lesson - Kiddo tummies are much MUCH more hardy than mine at this point.

Just watching this happen directly after eating made me queasy - but the boys enjoyed it.  Each of the kids got to choose one activity post-dinner.  This was explained to them very specifically.  Destyni did a great job standing with me and watching the boys go round and round.  Once his ride was over, we walked back to the bouncy houses.

4th lesson - Des will ALWAYS choose the bouncy houses.

Tyler was very unhappy to watch his sister bounce without him.  Those blue eyes welled up, and the bottom lip started to quiver.  It hurt my heart - and Cameron's too, but he had been presented with his options.  We had to stick to it.  I would not tell him, for obvious reasons, but I will tell you, dear Peekers, that sometimes working to raise responsible human beings sucks.  My heart wants to give them everything that they want now.  It's so hard to say 'no', but my prayer is that they will learn the hard lessons, and one day say 'no' to their children - so that I won't have to.  (Isn't that what we have to look forward to as grandparents??)

5th lesson - There's always time for one more ride.

As we walked to the car, we saw a train of carts pulled by a John Deere lawnmower making laps around the park.  We had seen it in the parade earlier, and it was just too good to pass up.  The kiddos hopped in for a spin, and Cameron and I stood in the relative quiet, holding hands, and taking it all in.  I love my family.  I love my life.  I love Homespun.  I already can't wait for next year.

Final lesson - ...