Thursday, March 31, 2011

Sister Wives

I have a new semi-obsession. Polygamy. Relax. I'm semi-obsessed with watching documentaries and TV shows about polygamy, NOT becoming a polygamist. It's less about obsession and more about being intrigued with lifestyles so completely different from my own. Kind of like my obsession with the Duggars. Except different because I actually want to be a Duggar. I don't want to be a polygamist. There needs to be clarity there.

There is a show on TLC that showcases a modern day polygamist family doing their thang in Utah. I'm totally hooked. The thing that intrigues me the most is that it seems like normal marriage stuff. Times 4. The wives are all doing their wife stuff (kids, household duties, cooking), the husband is always trying to keep a wife happy, and they have bills to pay. A million of them because hello, they are a huge freaking family. Nothing seems really wonderful about it for the women. They all seem to be jealous of the other women because despite all of the extra "help" they get around the house, OTHER WOMEN ARE SLEEPING WITH THEIR HUSBAND! Kody, the husband, seems to struggle with the arrangement too. He is never "off." Someone always needs him and he is always darting from one child/wife to another trying to give the attention they desperately crave. I guess he makes up for it by SLEEPING WITH MULTIPLE WOMEN. JD sees how the trade off is worth it.

The thing that draws me in each week is why this lifestyle is attractive. It is expensive. Only a very wealthy man could manage several households' expenses in addition to a bazillion kids. Polygamy is not a financially savvy move. Also, there doesn't seem to be this other worldly marital bliss happening. It seems like the same struggles every couple goes through multiplied by however many spouses are in the mix. Maybe it's the community of wives? I'm going with sex with multiple partners. Just saying. 

I get how having the household responsibilities split among wives would be nice. And the camaraderie. But I just can't wrap my mind around sharing my husband. Despite his couch potato nature and epic snoring, he's mine. I couldn't share. I won't. And those sister wives seem to struggle with the notion as well.

JD thinks converting is a novel idea. He has gone as far as suggesting sister wives to me. He tries to make his case a little more attractive by thinking up ways that I would benefit from having them. They could help with the cooking and cleaning and shopping. And the marital relations with MY HUSBAND. I'm good, honey. Thanks but no thanks. As lovely as the help around the house sounds, I will have to pass on the sister wives. I will however, continue to live the polygamist lifestyle vicariously through my TV. With MY husband.

I did tell JD that the only sister wife he was allowed to have was his sister. She could still help around the house and add to the whole community thing, but without the icky sharing of the sex. He was not amused. Neither was she. 

Disclaimer because someone may take this literally, this is an example of sarcasm. JD is about as interested in polygamy as he is in becoming a Duggar. (I wasn't kidding about that though. Duggars, I heart you. Call me). Also, if you are a polygamist and I have offended you, I apologize. I don't pretend to understand your lifestyle so this is mostly a joke meant to be harmless. And if you ARE a polygamist, dude, contact me. That would blow my mind. Carry on. 

Sunday, March 27, 2011

19 Weeks

This week has been a big, fat failure for me. Remember when I wrote about all of the awesome will power that I possessed and how I was kicking weight gain's butt? Well, I lied. I was kicking weight gain's butt, but now it's kicking mine. Or rather, it's setting up camp and making itself comfortable for the long haul. On my butt. And thighs. And face. I am enormous. And it's my fault. We had 4 days of birthday dinners for me last week. I overdid the appetizers, entrees, and cake. When we got back to eating normally, my insatiable hunger struck big time and I was too lazy (and hungry) to fight it. So here I am, feeling like I failed at responsible eating. Tomorrow is new day, right? Meh.


Weight gain: Not on your life. I'm not ready to face the scale.
Stretch marks: None.
Movements: Tons. I love this part of pregnancy.
Cravings: Salads. And you're probably thinking, "Aly, if you're eating all of these salads, why are you so fat?" Well, I like bad salads full of bleu cheese, avocados, bacon, and steak. I like plain balsamic vinegar as a dressing so that saves me some calories for the extra bleu cheese. Mmmm, moldy, ripe cheese. Yes please.
Sleep: Good considering that's when the baby goes nuts doing backflips and high dives. I like to go to bed a little early just so I can lie there feeling the movements and cheer my little swimmer on.
Best moment this week: JD and I decided upon a name in the event that there is a Y chromosome in there. Girl name to be determined.
Gender: I have pretty much convinced myself that it's a boy. This week when I had a random girl dream, it kind of shocked me. At this point, I don't know. I will be surprised either way. Leaning towards boy. 
Labor signs: Just your run of the mill daily sniss attacks.
Belly button: In, but I realized that I have a very deep belly button. Hmmph.
What I miss: Cat-like agility. Pregnancy makes me clumsy.
What I'm looking forward to: The same thing I've been looking forward to for the past 19 weeks: finding out the sex!
Weekly wisdom: Birthday cake is of the devil.
Milestones: Heartburn plagues me in epic proportions. Even the prescription isn't helping.

My enormous food baby:

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Battle Theodore

My husband is one of a kind. He tries really hard to chant the smart husband mantra "whatever mama wants, mama gets," but mostly he fails. As much as he tries to leave decorating, menu planning, wardrobe decisions, and other things my married friends say their husbands wouldn't care about up to me, he has to voice his opinions. He can't help himself, he has preferences. And I love this about him. He never asks me what he should wear or what to buy his parents for Christmas, he just makes a decision and does it. This makes my job so easy. I love having a decisive man.

Except when it comes to naming our children. If there was ever a time that I wished my opinionated husband didn't care about something, it is when we are naming our offspring. The man is impossible to compromise with and the whole ordeal is infuriating. I'm getting angry just writing about it. You should see how hard I'm pecking at this keyboard. 

We both like old fashioned, traditional names, but that is about all that we agree on. While we have narrowed down our girl list to 2 favorites, our boy list remains empty. He hates my suggestions and decides immediately if a name is a maybe or a no. So far, all but 1 is a no. For some strange reason, he thinks his potential son's name should be masculine and strong. And that's fine, but he acts like I am suggesting that we name him Susan or something. My suggestions are male names. Uncommon male names, but names any manly male would enjoy having. Don't you just love Theodore? Oh what a happy day it would be if my husband conceded to Theodore. 

Of course I understand that naming a child is not the same as deciding what's for dinner. But when every suggestion I make gets nixed the instant I suggest it, I want to scream. Something has to give and it's not my beloved Theodore. In his defense, he is in no hurry to decide since we don't know the sex and still have a few months to pick something. I, on the other hand, feel a strong sense of urgency to go ahead and name this baby. For me, it's part of the bonding process. Plus, I can't wait to start purchasing little monogrammed onesies and burp cloths.

So we're at a standstill. He hates my suggestions and he refuses to make any. I give the man a week and half to decide upon something with me amicably. After that, it is war.

We have agreed upon a very masculine boy name!! Our girl name remains undetermined, but we have made progress. And while Theodore got vetoed, I really like our choice and am excited. Woot woot!

Friday, March 25, 2011

Squish the New Baby and Read A Story

Bedtime has always been the hardest part of my day. By 7pm, I am spent and ready to kick back on the couch under my Snuggie. I have begged JD to take over this routine, but because I nursed until Beatrice was 15 months old, I was stuck with the exhausting bedtime ritual which goes something like this:

Lotion, jammies, diapers, hair, teeth
Play tea party or blocks for 30 minutes
85 stories
Lights out
Sing songs
Rock rock

The back breaking bath is not so terrible. The endless loop of "Jesus Loves Me" and "Little Bunny Foo Foo" is bearable. The worst part is story time. Beatrice knows her books by name and is very picky about what we read on any given night. We fight about how many books we're going to read. Right now, we're at approximately 85. I don't think she'll be happy until we reach 100.

Do you want to know the worst part about story time with Beatrice? This:

Beatrice likes to crush the new baby (and me) by climbing on top of me and reading books on my belly. It is sweet, really. But as my belly grows, it HURTS! You're probably saying to yourself, read books in a chair in an upright position. We do, but after carrying a toddler all day, picking up our house, cooking dinner and bathing said toddler, this mama's back is shot. I lie down flat for the 30 minutes that she plays blocks or tea party to give my poor back a break. Something's got to give though, because after a few block towers she gets that crazy "squish the baby and read a story" look in her eye and comes over with books in tow to squish the baby and read a story.


Thursday, March 24, 2011

My Life's Work

I got a new Cricut Expression machine for my birthday. It's really awesome because I am so crafty and now, the creative possibilities are endless. I love stationery and personalized anything. For my first project, I made these notecards.

They are very rough, but cute huh? JD asked me what I was going to do with them and I told him "write thank you notes, duh." He doesn't get my love for arts and crafts and paper. I can't really explain it, but there's something about having an idea come to life with raw materials and my hands that makes me giddy.

When I was in college and trying to decide what I wanted to be when I grew up, a mentor asked me what I used to play when I was a child. His theory was that whatever we liked as children would be an indication of our natural abilities/preferences for later in life. I thought and thought and while I had hoped to remember a childhood spent pretending to be a doctor or missionary or something worthwhile to the world, the only thing I remembered playing was house. I was the mom, my brother was the dad/child depending on how I felt that day, and we made some mean mud pies in the backyard. That didn't really help me with college application forms. "Well, what were you really good at? What came naturally to you?" he probed. That was easy; making stuff. Besides some awesome mud pies, I made awesome everything. I painted, I drew, I wrote, I made Indian villages out of Play Doh and let them dry in the sun. I was a creative being and when one outlet felt stale, I found inspiration in another.

After some soul searching, I decided to study something that I loved and would leave my professional future in God's hands. I studied English Lit and loved every minute of it. If there was a career that required going to class and studying words and grammar and writing, that's what I wanted to be. Since there's not, I just did really well in school and hoped to use my degree when I got out.

After some years working as an office manager, I settled it in my heart that I would probably never use my degree. I was comfortable in my job and my love of words and writing was somewhat appeased in my day to day duties at the office. But I never felt truly inspired or fulfilled, I never felt like I was doing my life's work or calling.

It's funny how having a child can make you reevaluate everything in your life. Here I am, home all day with a toddler, and little opportunity to flex my intellectual muscles. But I am more content than I have ever been in my life. I have the freedom to create and make stuff and I do it because I love it. I'm not exactly getting rich off of my newest endeavors, but that's why JD comes in handy. He makes the money, I make everything else. 

I'm beginning to realize that one's life work is not as concrete as one might imagine. I am learning that wherever you are in God's plan, your work can be important, meaningful even. My job as mother and housewife is probably not benefitting any of you, but for this season our family relies on me and my skills. It's cool how God can use you where you are and use the special talents that you have to make that place a little more awesome and purposeful.

Right now, I am in a place of making things. It's probably a fleeting place since I will have my hands full with 2 little ones in a few months. I'm also in a place of being a mommy. It is often lonely and thankless and routine, but it is a precious season that I am blessed to be in. My current place is not glamourous or in high demand, but it is purposeful and and I am thankful to have found myself here. It is my life's work. Now, I must remember to send God a thank you card...

Tuesday, March 22, 2011


I turned 29 on Sunday.

Every year for as long as I can remember, I have always thought up something crazy to ask for for my birthday. Like kittens or skydiving or an extravagant weekend shopping trip to NYC. I never wanted something normal or practical like a sweater or a pair of sensible shoes. For years, I would use my birthday as a way to indulge in the fabulous, ridiculous things in life and make my friends join me in the extravagance.

That changed when I had children. Instead of wanting things for myself, now I ask for things for the family. Plus, I'm at a place in my life where I really can't think of a single thing that I need. What a blessing to not have a single need or want, yay God! This year, all I wanted was to go to one of those pottery painting places with JD and Beatrice. So we did.

Somebody loved painting. Daddy got into it too.

We painted a deviled egg dish. We actually needed one of those so not only is it a symbol of our love, it's also practical. Behold, our egg love dish.

It was a great weekend. I wish I could share some big revelation about being older and wiser and blah blah blah, but I got nothing. The only significant change I feel this year is a desire to know God more and live a life that pleases Him everyday. I'd say that is pretty practical advice no matter how old you are. Oh, and I want to show these people how much I love them too.

I like knowing that I have matured into a person that gains more from watching others enjoy things than a person who indulges selfishly. I'm sure my friends and family are pretty stoked about that too. One can only get so many kittens or ridiculous weekend excursions for their birthday before people start talking about you.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

18 Weeks

Today is my birthday. This is the second time I have been pregnant on my birthday. Being pregnant on your birthday is pretty great considering you get to eat lots of cake and no one judges you. Also, there is the whole miracle growing inside of you that is pretty cool too. This birthday is especially special because there are many exciting changes taking place for our little family in the near future. Baby #2 is one of them.


Weight gain: I'm not going there. I'm not keeping anything from you, I seriously don't want to go there so I refuse to weigh. Too. Much. Cake. Plus, I am insatiably hungry. So, I'm not going there.
Stretch marks: Nope.
Movements: Lots and lots.
Cravings: Salads and cake.
Sleep: Wonderful.
Best moment this week: Receiving my maternity jeans and discovering the wonder that is stretch denim with a demi panel for expanding bellies. Heaven.
Gender: I dreamed that we circumcised the baby....I have a feeling, this is purely a hunch, that this baby is a boy.
Labor signs: Earlier this week, I thought I was leaking amniotic fluid. It turns out it was just pee. Pregnancy is fun.
Belly button: In.
What I miss: Eating a normal amount of food and staying full for longer than an hour.
What I'm looking forward to: Finding out the sex in 2 more weeks! Squee!
Weekly wisdom: God is in control and has plans to prosper me. Hallelujah.
Milestones: People notice that I'm pregnant now.

A photo for the record.

Hello, Lover

These days, this is my pant situation:

So I ordered these maternity jeans. They arrived yesterday and they are FABULOUS. Have you ever worn maternity jeans? No? Me either. With Beatrice, I lived in yoga pants and the 1 pair of ugly, overpriced maternity pants I bought from a big named chain maternity clothing store. They were matronly and not fashionable in the least. I decided this time, I would at least try to maintain some sense of style. My new jeans are not only super cute, they are COMFORTABLE. They are a little big right now, but I know that any day when my bum catches up with my belly they're gonna fit just right.

Remember when I said that jeggings were proof that God loves me? Well, maternity jeans just reinforced that love. Not only are they comfortable and cute, they are promised to grow with me. Wins all around! There is no muffin top, no tight crotch cutting in that happens when your body gets too big for your jeans, no unsightly FUPA. Just style and comfort. I am so in love with these lovelies that I plan on wearing them even when I'm not pregnant. Don't knock it until you try them.

Now if you will excuse me, I have some unhindered lounging to do in my new comfy pants.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Mommy Stuff

I've been spending a lot more time with Beatrice lately. Not more time, per se, because that would require more hours in a day. We already spend every day, all day together. But I'm usually intermittently plugged into my phone or computer throughout the day. I am rarely completely present with her with my undivided attention. And not because I get bored or would rather do something else, but there are household things to be done and honestly, mommyhood can be pretty mundane. Plugging into the outside world is a tiny little break that I need most days.

But lately, I have been leaving my phone on the charger and keeping my laptop closed. It dawned on me not too long ago that these moments with just Beatrice and me are fleeting. Soon there will be a new baby requiring my attention and my old baby will no longer have her mommy to herself. This makes me a little sad.

I don't know what it is about my first child that makes me feel guilty about having another one. If I had to guess, it's thinking about all of the ways that I learned by trial and error with Beatrice. I remember countless nights of rocking her tiny little baby self to sleep, just crying and apologizing for not knowing how to be a better mommy. She was oblivious, snoozing away at my boovie while I sobbed like a baby thinking of all the ways I had probably already screwed her up. Baby #2 will have it so much easier because I already know what to do (and what not to do) because of Beatrice.

All of this has made me really want to soak up the last few months of our time alone. Of course I cannot wait to have new baby and I know Beatrice will be a perfect big sister, but it makes my mommy heart sad to know that the sweet little girl that made me a mommy is going to have to share me when I haven't always given her my undivided attention. So for now, we are having breakfast dates alone at Cracker Barrel (hello blueberry pancakes) and walks to the park and lots of reading time without my phone interrupting us. She loves it. And so do I. I want to be the best mommy I can be. And really, who could resist spending precious one on one time with this face?

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Spring Has Sprungeth

 In my part of the country, Mother Nature is a bit schizophrenic. Just when one season seems to have settled in for the long haul, a cold blast/heat wave/snowstorm/drought hits and throws a wrench in proper wardrobe planning. Winter has been holding strong since December complete with lots of snow, ice, and freezing temps. We had a few sunny days here and there in February that brought the promise of a Spring thaw, but they were quickly overshadowed by more snow and higher heating bills. But now that we're halfway into March? I think Spring has sprung.

Trees are in bloom. The birds have returned from Mexico or Florida or wherever they migrate to during the Winter. Seasonal allergies are flaring up and bugs are flying around attached to each other in a way that makes me think they are doing it. I think it's safe to say that we are officially headed toward Spring.

Living in this part of the country allows for us to not only experience every season, we also live in tornado alley and the threat of twisters are a weekly fear for us. Spring is the worst time for those terrifying windy beasts. To date, I have taken cover in the downstairs coat closet twice (in the middle of the night, I might add) and once in my mom's bathroom. While Spring is undoubtedly one of our more beautiful seasons, it is also the scariest.

You know what is the opposite of scary? Having your baby girl pick her first flower and give it to her mama.

It was one of those dandelion weed flowers, but a flower nonetheless. I totally remember picking these for my mom when we were kids and presenting them to her like we had just given her rare orchids. We had no idea they were weeds and stinky and not pretty. She would put them in a paper cup of water and thank us for her bouquet. It was special for us as kids so when Beatrice picked hers and gave it to me, I made her reenact the whole scene so I could capture it on memory stick. She loved all of the fuss I was making over her picking the flower and giving it me that she did it over and over and over again. It was a special moment for me. The weed flower has already wilted (I didn't have a paper cup vase), but I am saving it in her baby book. My first weed flower bouquet. Oh happy heart.

New sandals for tiny toes surely means that Spring has sprung, right? Someone needs their first pedicure.

How about burgers on the grill? Springy? No, it's more of a Summer thing? Well, when you have a beautiful evening with weed flower bouquets, horny bugs, and blooming trees, sometimes lighting the grill and throwing meat on it is the right thing to do. Trust me on this.

Spring has sprung all right. And just in time.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

17 Weeks

I'm late on this post - sorry. We were busy all weekend with real estate showings and zoo outings and church and springing forward and napping. It was exhausting. I am feeling pretty good. There is not much to report other than my belly is bigger. I'm sleeping pretty lousy (all of that peeing in the middle of the night). And I'm struggling with terrible heartburn. Meh.

Beatrice has had a cold for a week now. She has been pretty good considering she doesn't feel well. But during the difficult, whiny moments, I catch myself wondering if I can handle 2 at once. Did I really think this through? What will it be like to have a newborn and a 2 year old? Can I do it? Obviously, there is no turning back now, but I can't help but wonder if I have what it takes to mommy 2 little ones simultaneously. I am pretty good at doing other things simultaneously, like walking with both legs and talking while holding a telephone. But 2 kids at once? I may be in over my head.


Weight gain: No new gain, as far as I know.
Stretch marks: None.
Movement: Yes! Lots of kicks and a few big movements that feel like rolls.
Cravings: Bananas and peanut butter. 2 foods that I hate alone, but man, they're delicious together.
Sleep: Terrible. I wake up at least once a night having to pee so badly. It has only just begun.
Best moment this week: Ordering my maternity skinny jeans.
Gender: Feeling strongly about a boy. And I think I'm excited about it.
Labor signs: None.
Belly button: In. But give it a month.
What I miss: A bladder sufficient enough to hold a night's worth of pee.
What I'm looking forward to: My birthday this weekend!
Weekly wisdom: Boys aren't so bad when you and your husband agree on a cool name.
Milestones: Pregnancy heartburn has begun. Yay me.


Saturday, March 12, 2011

Etsy Sale

My little Etsy shop is having a sale. Enter SPRINGFORWARD upon checking out and receive 20% your entire order for a limited time. Happy shopping!

Will Power - 1, Cravings - 0

I feel like I need to preface this whole post with saying that I am totally okay with gaining weight while pregnant. It's necessary, it's normal, and it's no big deal. But I overdid it with Beatrice. I gained 48 lbs and I felt miserable. In the last months, my knees hurt, I struggled to breathe, and I got a lecture from my OB at every visit. I was out of control with overindulging and it made me feel like a loser. This pregnancy, I want to do things differently. I want to listen to my body and eat healthy choices. If I still gain 48 lbs doing good things for my body, I can deal with it. But I at least want to try to do things differently and not give in to every craving. So says the woman that just made a hotdog at 3 in the afternoon because she was craving one...

I finally stepped on the scale after last week's foodfest. I gained 2 lbs. In a week. And before you say, "the baby needed it," keep in mind that the baby weighs a little under 6 ounces this week. My weight gain did not go to the baby. It went to my new chin. For a moment, I saw myself spiraling into the out of control eating I did with my first pregnancy. I decided that 2 lbs wasn't too far gone to change my habits so I talked to my doctor about healthy snacks and she gave me some great ideas.

Instead of sitting down during Beatrice's nap time with a box of Girl Scout cookies, I eat a piece of cheese and a hard boiled egg. When I was in elementary school, I begged my mom to boil me an egg for my lunchbox everyday. My lunchbox smelled terrible and my friends didn't want to sit next to me when I ate it, but man those eggs were good. The key is eating protein throughout the day so my blood sugar doesn't plummet. And I don't eat at every sign of hunger. I will drink a big glass of water and if I'm hungry still, then I grab some almonds or an apple. I eat the usual 3 big meals and have 2 small, healthy snacks in between. I feel great. But the best part? I think it's working. I dropped those extra 2 lbs and have maintained my 5 lb gain (total) for this pregnancy.

I have a friend who's pregnant now and is 10 weeks ahead of me. She has gained 5 or 6 lbs in all. Pregnant women who gain a normal, healthy amount of weight make me a little green with envy. Not only do I want to be cute, I want to feel good too. I learned the hard way that gaining 48 lbs in a matter of months is really hard on your body. It is uncomfortable and unhealthy, according to my doctor who cracked the whip on my expanding hide every month. My newfound commitment to self control is not about dieting, but being in control of the state of my health. I don't want to be a bystander to this pregnancy and blame the weight gain on cravings. I have will power and I am going to use it. And if I still gain a ridiculous amount of weight, I'll be okay. I will know for sure that that's how my body handles pregnancy: by gaining a 3rd grader. But I will never know until I try to do things differently and take my doctor's advice. We will know in a few months. Hopefully, the score at the top of this post will be the same.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Gratuitous Violence

I like gratuitous violence. Not in real life. Just in the movies. I love a good action flick chocked full of shoot outs and crime and bad guys wreaking havoc on innocent victims, only to be brought to justice with even more excessive violence. I like it all. If my body is not clenched and tense for the duration of the movie, it's just not entertaining to me. Just so we're on the same page, violence does not mean horror or torture. I hate anything purposefully scary. I like realistic scary, like when disgruntled customer service reps turn into rogue bank robbers that kill to get ahead. THAT could happen in real life, and I want to watch it all go down on the big screen so I can be prepared. Just in case. 

This works out pretty well for my husband. Like most men, he likes action movies. We rarely argue about what to see at the theatre and our Netflix queue has the perfect balance of violence and documentaries, our second favorite genre. Occasionally, there is a romantic comedy thrown in the mix. JD is a sucker for Reese Witherspoon and girls with bouncy hair and wedding dress dilemmas. He's my sensitive man.

I minored in Film Studies in college. It was the best minor to have because I spent 4 years watching movies in class. I watched movies for homework. I watched movies for tests. Of course there was more to it than just watching movies. We had to analyze plot structure and character depth. There were genre studies that taught us the different indicators to each film type. We studied style, editing, and theory and while all of this was very interesting and super fun, it ruined me from just escaping into another world for an hour and 45 minutes like my collegiate counterparts studying less awesome minors. I couldn't watch a film for entertainment because I was dissecting it analytically the entire time. This has caused me to lose a lot of movie-going friends. No one likes going to the movies with a wannabe know-it-all who tries to explain the economic implications the course of the plot has taken. It's like changing a light bulb with an electrician. You don't want to hear about wattage and energy usage, you just want light. Same thing with watching a movie with me. I annoy myself, really. Plus all of my friends like romantic comedies and I would rather gargle dirty dish water than endure one of those. Sorry friends. 

Gratuitous violence has cured me of intellectually watching a movie. I can get lost in those action packed films and not once think about character development or the director's purpose for using camera angles a certain way. Who cares about that when the bad guys are karate chopping their way through your front door ready to pillage your things and break your face? Not me. So thank you, action films, for being the cure to my movie watching dilemma. You never let me down and you always inspire me to kick more caboose and fight more crime. You know, when those bad guys are coming. I'm doing the world a service, really. One action movie at a time.

Monday, March 7, 2011


Beatrice is such an independent girl nowadays. She likes to put her own shoes on, take her diaper off, and pick out her hair bows for the day. She can go to the toy box and get out her blocks, build a tower, and clean it up all by herself. If I need to get dinner going, I ask her to help me and she "cooks" with a wooden spoon and tupperware. She can finally follow directions and do things on her own and it's pretty great. 

Her newest thing is to throw away trash. It started with wadded up receipts she'd find in my purse. "Trash, mama," she would say as she toddled to the pantry trash can to throw it away. Such a helper. We have since moved on to carpet fuzzies, stickers that have lost their sticky, and food that falls on the ground. After the 5 second rule has passed, of course. This is all very helpful, as you can imagine. However, she has begun to throw away some non-trash items as well. I have found my wallet, lipgloss, our electric bill, sippy cups, and my keys in the trash. These are very clearly not trash and I'm a bit nervous that with my pregnancy brain, I will forget to look through the trash before it gets thrown out and lose some vital possession. Like money. Or my phone. Or my makeup. That stuff is vital not just for me, but so the rest of  humanity's eyes won't bleed upon catching a glimpse of me without it. Shudder.  

Oh look, a sticker.

I wonder if it's still sticky. 

Nope. Trash, mama!

Sunday, March 6, 2011

16 Weeks

The other day, JD mentioned something about how in 9 more months we would have another little baby. I said, "9 months?! Try 5!" He couldn't believe it. And neither can I. Time is flying. I feel a little bad about this. With my first pregnancy, it seemed like time was dragging. Each week seemed like a month and every little change occurring in my uterus was the biggest deal ever. I haven't thought a ton about this pregnancy. I mean, I think about the baby, but the pregnancy seems to be going along just fine without me worrying about it. That tends to happen when you have a toddler.

I'm enormous. Not so much in my belly, but everywhere else is growing rapidy. I had my weigh in at the doctor's office last week and much to my surprise, my 5 lb gain was really only 4 lbs. So I celebrated by eating everything. I made cherry cream cheese pie and mashed potatoes with cream cheese, sour cream and butter (divine but oh so bad for you), ate lots of sour gummy rings, giant turkey sandwiches with avocados crammed in, and pizza. Lots and lots of pizza. I haven't weighed since Wednesday but my face is fat now and once your face gets fat, there's no stopping your rear end and thighs from following suit. I am praying for will power and self control. I think you all should pray for me as well...


Weight gain: Not on your life am I stepping on a scale until my next appointment in 4 more weeks. Ignorance is bliss.
Stretchies: None.
Movement: YES! YES! YES! I now know for sure that those bubbles I've been feeling are not gas but my sweet little ballerina. (Or soccer player).
Cravings: Carbs.
Sleep: I can't complain. I wake up rested.
Best moment this week: Hearing the sweet lub-dub on the doppler.
Gender: It's totally a boy. I keep having reoccurring boy baby dreams. It's a boy.
Labor signs: None.
Belly button: In but starting to look a little strained and weird.
What I miss: A skinny face.
What I'm looking forward to: Dinner. And dessert.
Weekly wisdom: Time flies. Take a moment to enjoy the little life growing inside because before you know it, they will be on the outside.
Milestones: Besides the fat face and movement? It's time to bring the maternity clothes out of the attic.

From now on, you will see many of the same outfits on me. I don't buy a lot of maternity clothes because A) they can be expensive to only wear for a few months and B) I tend to go into denial when I get too big for my regular clothes. I repeatedly wear what still fits because it makes me feel better about myself.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Pregnancy Brain

There are many gross/amazing/weird things that can happen to your body when pregnant. A dark line marks your belly, your nose gets stuffy (and wide), and you pee all of the time. You also lose your brain. Seriously. JD never believed me on this when I was pregnant with Beatrice. I would forget whatever critical thing he told me to pick up at the grocery store before I even pulled out of the driveway. I would forget plans that we planned for weeks. I would forget to make dinner. I was constantly trying to convince him that forgetfulness in pregnancy is a real thing. He never bought it.

But it is a real thing. It's called pregnancy brain and it plagues many women (and husbands). For the most part, my experience with pregnancy brain has been annoying and frustrating. I hate it when other people tell me things that I said with no recollection of ever having had a conversation in the first place. Forgetting the key ingredient for dinner gets old. But so far, my forgetfulness has never endangered anyone. Until today.

Last night I left the key in the front door. All night. While we slept. Amongst burglars and bad guys and lions and tigers and bears. JD could not find his house key this morning and after looking in the usual places, he woke me up to see where I put it. "Check the kitchen counter." He did. "What about the table in the foyer?" Yep, not there. "Check the front door." Bingo. Apparently, after coming home from dinner last night, I forgot to pull the key out of the lock on the door. Oops. Of course we're all fine. Thank you bad guys for not pillaging us last night.  But this was a big what-the-heck-is-happening-to-my-brain kind of moment for me.

I really don't want to be dangerous to my family. I take precautions for all for all of the possible dangers in life. But are you really responsible for things that you forget you ever did - or didn't do? The good news is that pregnancy brain only lasts for a few months. The bad news however, is that it is replaced with mommy brain. My poor husband better start locking the doors himself at night.