What is YOUR DEAL?

Irritable is an understatement. I am so grouchy it's not even laughable. I guess the grumpy hadn't had the opportunity to really be released over the span of the last 8 months. I’ve just been so stinkin’ excited about this “bay-buh”. At one point, Brent asked if I was sure I was pregnant because I hadn't been that emotional yet, and I think that was around 5 months along. But something happened in the last month or so and it’s not “emotional”. It’s like I’ve grown fangs. But I haven’t. Still, be certain I need to exercise the demons (link).

Clearly, I'm going to deal with some mood-swings. But I don’t know if school starting and the resulting drain of my children’s painfully slow adjustment to it are what trigger this wish I could STOP ALL THE WHINING… AND THE TALKING… AND THE GRIPING… AND THE BICKERING… AND THE DRAGGY HOMEWORK… AND THE FALL SPORTS PRACTICES… AND THE RIGID BEDTIME NECESSITY… AND THE TALKING BACK… AND THE CRYING!! THE STUPID CRYING that has gone on in the family in the 7 and under crowd because we can’t find the spelling word-list SOMEONE is responsible for keeping track of, or because we can't find socks! I CANNOT KEEP UP WITH THE SOCK DEMAND! And so again with the crying. I'll put five pair of the guys’ socks away the day before and it seems they must be those people who sleep-eat, but they’re eating socks.

Really, what is WITH SMALL PEOPLE WHO DON’T KEEP THEIR IMPORTANT THINGS IN THE SAME PLACE EVERY TIME SO THEY’RE IN THE SAME PLACE EVERY TIME WE GO TO FIND THEM IN THAT SAME PLACE!?!? Every time. I know this is what kids do. I know. Who are we kidding - this is what grown men around me do. It just doesn’t make me any more patient when there’s CRYING AND DISRESPECT AND STORMING OFF about it [not including Brent in that part].
I guess I should stop here. It’s probably more draining to be the one reading my venting, but it was so necessary. I can’t seem to find much to keep the steam from spewing forcefully out of my ears sometimes.

Okay. I feel better. We have Oreos. I never buy Oreos. But I did. And they’re going to taste great.

Let Me Help You with Your Jaw

Like every OB visit, I asked if I could please tinkle before stepping on the scale. Why this isn’t a customary routine, I will never know. I’m always directed toward the [might I remind you] out-in-the-middle-of-the-road scale until I ASK if I may head to the potty first. Nobody ever argues with me. I just wonder why every nurse doesn’t automatically assume all women, pregnant or not, wouldn’t rather first weigh 2 oz less. So, that is what I do every time.

However, unlike every OB visit, today I asked what weight they had on my chart from day-one to calculate how much I’ve gained. We did the math. And the first among two digits is a one. Let me repeat that. A one. Yes, that doesn't count the first 8 weeks prior to that initial visit, but folks, it's not an eight. It's a one. You might know me. And you might know how totally BELUGA I become when pregnant. And this first digit may leave you with a bit of an open-mouthed expression.

But let me assure you, mine is still on the floor. However, I don’t think my jaw has ever wanted so much to jump off my face, run screaming down the interstate [thumb extended in royal hitch-hiker fashion] to find a ride to the nearest world-wide, public platform in order to let everyone watching know: YOU NEVER ASK A PREGNANT WOMAN HOW MUCH WEIGHT SHE’S GAINED!!!

This happened. And has. Usually just once. Every. Time. I’ve. Been. Pregnant… typically with a “I only gained __ lbs when I was pregnant.” and typically the blank can be filled with world-record lows... dating back to the land-run.

Uh... *blink... blink... blink*

Offended isn't the word. Not hurt. Not failed. Just totally in need of help scraping my jaw off the ground. I don't think I'd be as shocked if I were asked what color my poop was this morning.

More Like a Flood

What a whirlwind week behind me… the weekday part was sort of uneventful; it just flew by really quickly. But Saturday. Oh man. A baby shower. Not just any baby shower. The best ever baby girl baby shower. I’m not even kidding when I say these girlfriends have been on it since May. The one right before June. The one that was going on 5 months ago. I mean, I can’t say the planning was full-on back then, but the spear-heading happened even before we were out of school for summer! And I truly have no words. I, of all people, am speechless. These girls have been so hush-hush and googly giggly in their high-pitched, grinning-faced “I don’t know what you’re talking about” tones when asked ANYTHING about it. And I don’t guess I “let go” very often. I offered all kinds of help. I offered homemade cheesecake, but the only place I was told I’d be allowed to serve it would be from the front porch if I brought it.

Enter center-stage: Saturday morning. I walked in the front door of Jackie’s home to the most breath-taking display of darlingness and delicious goodies. I just wanted to fall all over it gushing. And so I did. There was a clothes-line on the mantel with some of the cutest little outfits on the face of the planet. But the clothespins holding everything were no ordinary clothespins. Em covered each one in little bits of darling papers matching the darling hand-cut R’s sticking out of each of the darling cupcakes from Cuppies and Joe. Did I mention all things darling? Darling I tell you! As if that weren’t enough, so many people we invited came. I guess that’s not that odd, but I’m used to being the one throwing the party. I hadn’t ever thought about being the one on the other end.

With my oldest, my gracious friend and I planned the shower on the same date as the OU/Texas football game like two idiots. Around here, one MUST adjust any wedding dates or big party planning around Sooner football. True story. But somehow that completely slipped our minds. Four people came. Count them. Four. That includes me and my own mom. And with my second, my best childhood friend and her mom threw a shower that was truly so, so wonderful. But there really was something completely angelic and fluffy-cloudy about this baby girl shower – the very first baby girl shower I’ve ever been given… and the love put into it was so overwhelming. There truly is something so touching about having the depth of admiration for a friend validated. Sure, we tell each other we love each other. We count on each other. But this was just such a quiet labor of love – the depths of which are truly harder to find as I get older.

And I still haven’t gotten over it. Really above everything, it was the group of people – able to attend or contribute in one way or another. Everything felt so well-balanced and meshed. Talk about a warm-fuzzy!

“Thank you” is simply not an adequate expression.





Me with Hostesses - Casi, Jackie & Emily:

Fit For a Little Gem

After some rearranging, hair-pulling, changing of heart and plagiarizing, things are coming together nicely in my opinion.

The bumper needed to have the pattern side exposed. I couldn't quite put a finger on what it was I was a little "eh" about with the white side outward facing until Emily offered a “Boomer Sooner” observation - [even though we're all about OU in our hearts and minds] - white red white was a tad locally collegiate.
I loved the flip-over suggestion; it feels perfect now… but I don't really ever disagree with Em 'cause she has great ideas and a cattle prod usually. *not really



I decided not to order some of the things I’d posted pictures of, and instead copied a few little cut-paper designs I found on an artist’s website, but for way less than she wanted for them... and much cuter if I do say so myself.



The boys also each colored a picture I cut out and applied to a canvas.







I will not be keeping the fake model family photos included in the frames hung on the walls. I just need pictures of an actual human who’ll be claiming the space. So, no worries. And, I will probably have something to rearrange at some point; I’m just like that. But as far as I know, this is what her room will look like until she has an opinion.

Roly-Poly Roll

I am starting to become too big for comfort... literally and photographically. Comfort levels push boundaries when we cross whale threshold. I'm not complaining so much as just saying. With both boys I was [even more] Gi-Gan-Tic. So, I'm doing pretty well to be able to be asked by total strangers when it is I'm due rather than [I'm sure] have people wonder if I'm pregnant or just in need of MAJOR calorie overhaul. I've been able to wear my wedding ring this entire time. That's five months longer than with my first. I can't recall when it started leaving pink dents the second time around. But the first time, I was at a mall kiosk two months along picking out a fake ring from a Pakistani man that didn't last me to term - the ring, not the man. I don't know what ever happened to that ring, but I'm sure the stone fell out or something. I was so concerned about looking like the knocked-up slut, I needed to "make a deal just for me today only" with that man at the kiosk.

Man, time flies. Go ahead, roll your eyes. I know... cliche. But, I feel like I was just a baby when I had my first baby. I had no idea life would be like it has turned out to be. I'd had quite a bit of experience too. I started babysitting when I was 11. Apart from my older brother, I was oldest among my 17 cousins except for one. I hogged the babies. I'm not kidding, there were fights about my hogging the babies. I worked after school all throughout high school at a day-care in the infant class. I later worked exclusively for a family I connected with through that facility, having taken care of their youngest from the time he was 6 weeks old. And the list goes on from there. Still, there is nothing that can prepare you for life with a day-old baby, at least not the first time around... and certainly not when it's YOUR child.

Now I can't even recall what the heck we ever did before having kids. I think it was something like: work, dinner out, tv or movie, day off, work, work, OU football game, tv, tv, movie, work, tv, tv, dinner out, work, buy another pair of shoes, bake something. Boring. And again I say... Boring. I CAN HARDLY WAIT for this baby!! I can't wait to see her face. I want to know what she looks like. I finished the crib bumper today. It looks great. I have her baby shower next weekend given by some of the most wonderful friends a girl could ever ask for. Then I can focus on what we'll be for Halloween. I have plans for myself, but I think I'll keep it under wraps for now. It entirely depends on the weather forecast.

But holy shizzies, we are down to the wire here. I'll turn 31 soon after Halloween and then we'll have a new baby. That's where my plans stop. Realistically, I might be kinda overwhelmed with nearly six years between my last new-born and this one. Do my old skills come back to me or do I start back over? At any rate, I'm not making further plans until I know how things go. The only thing we can count on is regular sushi after I have her... and most certainly on Thanksgiving.

Writer's Block

I’m just going to call this what it is… a rock-hard turd on the brain. But what’s new? I need Miralax to function properly anyway – but have recently, accidentally but mostly on purpose started calling it Microsoft. Isn’t that a better name for a stool-softener? And even better yet, thebump.com recently predicted I might be noticing some mild constipation with as big and space-consuming as my womb is becoming. What they did was call it “mild”, underestimating the wide-spreaded-ness of the issue. The blocking has ensued in more ways than one.

I really have nothing to tell you people except things that may cause yawning. We finally used a gift-certificate we’ve had far too long to a camera specialty shop. I won’t tell you how long we’ve had it, because you may feel like hunting then beating me for not using a perfectly giant gift-certificate on a new, not-broken camera when we’ve been counting on an iphone cam to capture all sorts of moments in the time it takes to fish it out of my purse, slide to unlock, open the camera app and say, “Hey, do that again, except like you just did it for the first time. And have no idea I’m taking your picture! Dude, No! Don’t wink and point!!”

I still feel a bit tangled up about the baby nursery. I felt one shelf was wobbling a millimeter too many when I pushed firmly. So, I took it down, went to tighten the screw only to have the anchor somehow cause the wall to crumble a tad surrounding the anchor’s spot – which makes the anchor unstable – and the screw completely useless as none of it would be supporting the weight of a floating shelf or its contents. And I’d like to say I DIDN'T try ripping the anchor out of place with all my might to be met with an anchor having more than my might – to answer that with a sharp stab stab stab with the screw-driver in order to drive the stupid thing into the wall – leaving an even bigger gaping hole than I cared to deal with… but then I’d be lying. So, instead of calmly saying, “We don’t throw fits to get what we want.” like I typically do daily to people around me, I just went about filling, drying, repainting, and drying the spot before re-hanging said shelf a bit higher than it originally hung. But if things would just play along and go EXACTLY HOW I HAVE IN MY HEAD in the first place, there would be no need for any kind of melt-down or childish act of hormonal hardware-rage.

I won’t even share about the mirror. It’s hung, so that’s all you need to know, okay?

I went today to another OB appointment. That’s what I did while the wall-patching dried. I’d been reading about VBAC birth. That’s Vaginal Birth After Cesarean. Because of certain risks – which aren’t that realistically high for most people – Tort Reform laws have now made it nearly impossible [aka ASTRONOMICALLY EXPENSIVE] to insure OBs who perform VBAC births. So, in the state of Oklahoma, once a c-section - always a c-section… unless I want to have this baby at OU Med and change Dr’s this late in the game. I'd read about what makes someone a good candidate for VBAC [having had a previous, successful vaginal birth: *check*, having a horizontal CS incision rather than vertical: *check*, not having had a long labor and subsequent emergency CS: *check*]. Still, I honestly hadn’t read enough about it to really feel one way or another whether VBAC was right for me. So, I was told I basically have that right if I feel it’s what I should do – and my OB would set me up with someone over there who’d be more than happy to let me push this puppy out. However, I do think I’m forgetting what kind of pain I dealt with after needing my pelvic floor re-tiled due to stubborn muscles down there in the months following my first puppy pushing endeavor. It must have been super fresh in my memory when I INSISTED ON the elective CSection at my first OB apt with my second, and nearly passed out with anxiety when my Dr sort of *shrugged* and said "we'll see". I’m pretty sure I’d snap my ACL over and over if I could have traded… both being some of the worst pain I’ve ever experienced... ACL tear and reflooring surgery… but still… a working bottom is a luxury, I assure you.

And now – I haven’t really had many moments to capture yet. So, here’s just a nice crisp picture with bad lighting for your enjoyment.

A Mess of Fish

Brent took the guys to his family farm to fish Labor Day, giving me a much needed day of total boredom. I had no umph to really do much after driving around to several places I'd put on a mental list categorized "kidless ventures". They were all closed. I wanted fuzzy-ball trim for a pillow, an old wooden chair, and perhaps one of those pink, depression-glass sugar bowls I thought I might use for either cotton swabs or other useless filler I may not ever need. Hold your horses, I do clean my ears. I just - ya know - don't necessarily need another container for something that COMES IN a container. But why not be cuter than the Q-Tip box, yo?

So, the boys had a blast. I had a... day. And we're on with the short week.

The Beej Vacs Again

I guess it's simply part of the way he operates. He is so thorough! He moves things out of his way, whips out the attachments and sucks the corners and edges. I don't even vacuum as well! There is a Sonic in store for this stud-muffin later, no doubt - maybe even a banana split. Whoa pony!

By Thursday this week I was getting a little frustrated with a few things. I'd completed primer, paint and clean up in the baby nursery. I love the color; it's "LIKE BUH'DUH"! I like the set up. I need a few more accessories before the big unveiling; but sometimes when I have an idea in my head and think it should be no trouble locating that exact thing... it's the last thing on earth available.

For example, a plain white cotton crib-skirt [I would think] would be a relatively easy find. No. No, it's not. The Land Of Nod has a white eyelet crib-skirt for $49 I sort of liked. But I'm pretty sure I just said I wanted a plain one. So, I finally resigned to return to a local store I loathe. It's not really the store's fault. It's the lady who works there. I want to shout from close-range, "Dear Lordy, please stop riding me like I'm the hamburglar on a coin-operated McDonald's merry-go-round! I'm only looking at what you have. I'm not here to be interviewed about what things I still need, what I like and don't in a stroller or other items I may or may not even want. I'm only curious, does this infant carrier fit inside this stroller? I didn't need you to climb up on the display, risk your life and limb to get it all down and demonstrate how I'd give my baby serious whiplash in order to get the thing in and out. But, yes, I do see... it fits in ten minutes or less. You were right."

Eureka! She wasn't there Thursday! Things were already looking up! After some looking and considering their crib-skirt options, my brilliant sister-in-law asked if the soft creamy one could be ordered in bright-white - and after giving my name and info, we were finally told they had one on a display. So, I just bought that one since I wash everything right off the bat anyway. And it was only $23.
I love when things work out.

Aside from shopping for an actual *thing* I expect exists no problem, I do often also underestimate what goes in to creating exactly what I have in my head... on any given creative/crafty venture [especially on my first attempt] - unless it's a paper mache wedge of cheese. That just went exactly like I planned.

So, anyway, I do still like the wooden letters people hang on the wall - typically the first name or single initial. Y'know what I'm talking about? I, however, wanted it to look like a monogram - with our last initial larger in the center and two smaller first and middle initials on either side. So, I set out on a mission to find wooden letters to paint and then "mod podge" a cute paper design on the front surface. You'd think there would be various sizes of letters available at craft stores... and there are, but not the same "font" or thickness. Low and behold, I finally found some at Michael's. Guess what they were out of. Go ahead, guess. "The big S" - they were out of "The big S". Did you guess "The big S"? 'Cause if you did you get a high-five! Beeenneeneeerrr neeenerrr [that's a little Guns N' Roses on the air guitar for guessing "The big S"].

Aaaanyway, I kept stalking both Michael's locations and finally found "The big S" and all other things necessary after almost 2 months of searching. I set out to make them, and of course took all day. But they're made. And I love them. But I won't be making more for a long time, unless of course I love you and you want some. But you run the risk of asking and being turned down - which - I guess lets the cat out of the bag. Or you can just hate them and go on living in denial. Truth be told, I more than likely love you to death whether you like my letter creations or not.

For now, here's a sneak peak:


This will have the changing pad and a few other things. I'll take a bigger pic once complete:

Next up: Bedding. Here is the fabric.

For the bumper: white giant seersucker on the outside, rose-red piping edge and coral little flower print on the inside with red ties.


These few things will be in the mail shortly and then I'll take real pictures.

Throw pillow for the bed I'll sleep on so I can just be in there for 3am feedings:


A couple pieces of art: