Hate

JD is off on Mondays. I'm usually gone running errands most of the day so to ensure that my hard working and even harder relaxing husband doesn't watch TV all day, I make him a chore list. Just a few things that need attention around the house to make him feel accomplished and me feel like things are getting done around here. While he mostly rolls his eyes at me when I remind him to finish his chores before I return, he gladly takes care of the "manly" household duties.

We have a patch of grass and concrete patio that make up our backyard. A very sinister occupant has taken up residence in this space. He first made his appearance on the front porch. I suppose he likes the shade and damp environment of the back because he won't leave. He lives under the downspout drain thingy. He likes to terrorize me by always being underfoot and changing his camouflage to a bright neon right as I'm about to step on him. I hate him.

For 2 weeks now, JD has had 2 items on his chore list: mow the backyard and remove the devil-frog. Just so we're clear, I never asked him to harm or murder the frog. I am not a heartless psycho, I just hate frogs. Last week when I returned home, JD reported that he took the frog far away to another area of our neighborhood. Finally. Peace in our home. Or at least our backyard.

We had a bunch of rain this week. Guess who showed up.

I freaked, naturally, and determined that this frog is more cunning and devilish than I originally thought. I immediately questioned my husband's integrity and asked if he really got rid of the frog in the first place. He promises he did. Hmmmph.

Beatrice loves him.

I still hate him.

Could you spare a click for this tortured frog hater?

Love

I used to measure love in how many I-love-yous I accumulated in a day or how often JD planned romantic dinners. After a few months of marriage, I began to feel very unloved. You see, God has blessed me with a very loving husband, but he lacks a little in the traditional romance department. The more I demanded suggested he tell me how much he loved me, the more I felt unloved and quite frankly, gipped in the romance department. I wanted roses and candles and tongue kissing. I wanted the movies. This caused some strain in our young marriage.

After 3 happy years with the man, I have come to recognize that love is translated in many languages. At least in our house it is.

Love is leaving this much Listerine in the bottle for 2 weeks because we both know how much the other one likes fresh breath, but neither wants to take the last swish.

Love is putting on a tiny bit of makeup everyday so he doesn't have to come home and tongue kiss this face.

Love is making sure there are homemade chocolate chip cookies in stock every week because they are his favorite.

Love is running out to get a boatload of popsicles to satisfy her craving.

Love is not saying a word about how many popsicles are consumed in a single sitting.

Love is respecting the other's right to fold laundry the way that they prefer it.

Love is rinsing out the toothpaste in the sink instead of nagging him about how you just cleaned it.

Love is kissing in front of our babies so they can see how much we love each other.

Love is patient. Love is kind. Love isn't jealous. It doesn't sing its own praises. It isn't arrogant. It isn't rude. It doesn't think about itself. It isn't irritable. It doesn't keep track of wrongs. It isn't happy when injustice is done, but it is happy with the truth. Love never stops being patient, never stops believing, never stops hoping, never gives up. I Corinthians 13:4-7.

Beatrice The Ladybug, Part Deux

After the tragic end to the original Beatrice the ladybug, several of her relatives have come to pay their respects. We found a ladybug in our living room, also named Beatrice, last week. Ladybugs are the only insects that I am not deathly terrified of, so I actually encourage Beatrice the toddler to interact with them. This one was especially nice.

We enjoyed her visit and she was gracious enough to share many fond memories of Beatrice the ladybug the first.

31 Weeks

I had a meltdown at the doctor's office last week. I gained 6 pounds since my appointment 2 weeks prior. 6 pounds. I weighed the exact same as I did with Beatrice at 30 weeks. Which means that I am on track to gain as much as I did with her. Which also means that I failed at my goal to not gain as much as I did with her. Which ultimately means that I am a failure. At least that's how I felt on the scales that day. Sigh. The meltdown had more to do with the stresses going on in our life with the move and less to do with the weight gain, but once I started crying I couldn't stop. It ended up being just what I needed because I feel much better. 6 extra pounds and all.

Stats


Weight gain: 30 lbs. I may stop posting this portion until the end because although I think I have come to terms that this is how my body handles pregnancy, it still makes me super insecure when other women gain much less.
Stretch marks: Just one, lone stretchie on my rib.
Movement: Tons, constantly. She is wild. I love it. Except when her feet get stuck under my rib cage. That really hurts. Maybe that's where that stretch mark came from....
Cravings: Lemons again. And ice. Iced water with half a lemon squeezed in is the best treat ever. Also, I'm phasing out the popsicles and trying to work in some Italian ice, lemon preferably.
Sleep: Really bad. I can only breathe on my left side, but I don't feel like I have to pee as bad on my right side. I spend a good portion of the night flip-flopping so I don't suffocate or wet the bed.
Best moment this week: Receiving a lot of support from my doctor, friends, and family after my big little meltdown. I really needed that, friends. Thanks.
Gender: Sweet, sweet girl.
Labor signs: No actual signs, but I do feel like I'm about to have a baby any day now. I asked my doctor about all of the pelvic pain I have been having and she says it's normal for 2nd (and 3rd and 4th...) pregnancies. Basically, your first pregnancy paves the way for your body to birth all of your subsequent babies. The muscles and ligaments in the baby making region are much more relaxed after the 1st one so the pain/discomfort is more prominent for additional pregnancies. Michelle Duggar, how do you do it? 
What I miss: Cute clothes.
What I'm looking forward to: Getting rid of this baby weight.
Weekly wisdom: Every trial or struggle is only a season and it shall pass.
Milestones: My belly button has popped and I have an outie.

A photo where I look a little bit mad at you. I'm not, I promise.

Baby Daddy

About 10 months after we got married, JD and I spent the night with his sister and our niece and nephew. It was a fun weekend sleepover, but we left exhausted. Our toddler niece and baby nephew were little balls of energy during every waking moment. They graciously let our childless, tired bodies sleep in until 6 am only to wake us with an early morning jam session complete with bells and a ukulele. We drove home with bloodshot eyes and a vow to not have children for at least 5 years.

A week later, I found out I was pregnant.

I always knew that JD would be a good dad to our children, but it wasn't until Beatrice was born that I realized how much he loves being a dad.

He is human. He makes mistakes, but his heart for God and raising our daughters under the guidance and protection of a godly father is his driving force. I heart him. So does his little girl.

Photo courtesy of Sara Rose Photography.


He continually surprises me with his gentleness and patience with our daughter. He is humble when he doesn't know what to do. He has taught her how to count to 5 ("1, 2, 3, 4, 9"), trace her hand on a piece of paper, and pray. He is unwavering in discipline and unconditional love.

He is my baby daddy and he gave me beautiful babies.

Happy Father's Day, honey. Your babies adore you and your wife is crazy about you. xoxo

Coveting Is Bad, Mmkay?

I made a big mistake this morning. I did a little online browsing on a few of my favorite shops just to see what I'm missing out on this season. I thought it would be fun and give me something to look forward to after having this baby, but it just made me sad and really jealous of people who are wearing these cute things right now. If I had a huge shopping budget and a waist, this is what I would buy right now:

Photo courtesy of J. Crew.
I love everything about this dress, the color, the eyelet trim, the bohemian feel of it. I want to wear it with these. I love it so much, I'm tempted to buy it in my regular size and wear it when I'm my regular size again. All of you people currently living in your regular size can buy it here. Just don't wear it around me. This dress is like that high school crush I had on a certain beautiful football player that didn't know I existed, but my friends were forbidden to date him because that is friend law. If you are my true friend, you will not wear this around me. Or better yet, if you are my true friend, you will buy it for me.....yes, I like that idea very much.

Photo courtesy of J. Crew.
I love this dress almost as much as the first one. It screams flirty California fun, dontcha think? I think it is lovely and I'm digging the bright coral. Me likey, me likey a lot. Untrue friends, get yours here.

Photo courtesy of Anthropologie.
I want this shirt with all of my heart and soul. I mean, it has lemons on it. Lemons. I love lemons. And on a shirt? Is there anything more darling? I think not. I want it. I want it bad. Please, please be on sale in August after I have Penelope. I need a lemon shirt. For those like me who need lemon shirts, go here immediately. Just save a size 6 for me. Thank you.

Photo courtesy of J. Crew.
This dress completes me in the joking way that material objects offer false fulfillment. I love it. I want it. Buy it for me here.

Photo courtesy of J. Crew. 
I can be any size and wear these, but they would look so much better with stylish clothing. Something that doesn't exist at my current size and budget. JD, you can go here and purchase them as a gift for your wife who is feeling particularly unpretty right about now.

Photo courtesy of Sunglass Hut.
I asked for these for Mother's Day. I'm not sure why I didn't get them. JD says to get them. I think I'm going to get them. Be like me here.

Photo courtesy of Piperlime.
I love jeans. I have over 27 pairs in my closet. I need just 1 more. These will do.

Enough with this torture! All of you regular sized people, happy shopping. Think of me when tightening a belt or wearing a breezy sundress. I will be here wearing my maternity gauchos, dreaming of cute clothes.

A Perfect Beatrice

We had dinner with my brother and sister in law a few weeks back. They are newly married and have no children. After spending about an hour with Beatrice playing and talking, they announced to each other that they want one. She has that effect on people all the time. She is awesome and funny and smart and silly and cute and really, really sassy. She is the perfect mix of JD and me in 1 tiny package, but with her own quirky personality that makes her uniquely Beatrice. The most perfect Beatrice I have ever met, in fact.

She has not always made people want to procreate though. For the first several months of her life, she was grumpy and needy and demanding. Typical baby stuff really, but I wondered if people considered her a good-natured baby. She was my only baby and even I questioned the goodness of her nature. Something happened after her first birthday though. She became a person. An awesome little person with preferences and jokes and sass. I know every parent says this, but she is the funniest, most awesome little person I know. And very, very good-natured.

Bee-triss

Beatrice has been saying her name for over 6 months now, but we're in a very cute phase of third person Bee-triss. "Bee-triss wants mama." "Bee-triss walk upstairs." "Bee-triss rock rock you." It has rubbed off onto mommy too. Mommy thinks it's really cute. Mommy loves this age. Mommy needs more popsicles. See? Third person speak is contagious. Mommy implores you to try it. 


Tractor

We met JD outside as he was coming home one afternoon and Beatrice had a fit to drive Daddy's tractor. She sat in his lap and beeped the horn, reprogrammed his radio stations, and reset every setting on his dash. She freaked when it was time to come in. We decided that it was time to get her a riding toy. We searched the internet for push riding toys, pull riding toys, powered riding toys, pedaled riding toys, you get the drift. We decided on this.

It has cup holders, a cooler, SPF canopy, and seat belts. It's a pimped out wagon. She calls it her tractor. So far, we have only been on a few very hot walks in it, but she eats breakfast and lunch in it nearly everyday so we feel like we're getting our money's worth.

Naked


Beatrice likes to take her clothes off all the time, but especially when we're outside. I think it's really cute. JD hates it. Her latest naked escapade included a little skinny dipping.

Naked gardening, anyone?

Potty Chair


For a few months now, Beatrice has been telling me when she needs a die-pah change. I decided to set the potty chair in her bathroom just to test the potty training readiness waters and I was pleasantly surprised to discover that she loves to pee pee on the potty. We're going full steam ahead with potty training in about 2 more weeks. Wish us luck.

Mook


I nursed for 15 months. When I weaned, Beatrice would have nothing to do with cow's milk. I made a lot of homemade ice cream back then from refused whole milk. Mmmmm, ice cream. Anyway, we have tried everything to convince her to drink milk. Nothing worked. Until one day out of the blue, I offered her some in a baby bottle. She sucked it down and has been drinking moo juice ever since. The only catch is, she only drinks it in a baby bottle. JD makes fun of me because I am the mom that threw away her pacifier at 11 months, but now at almost 20 months gives her a baby bottle. What can I say? It makes perfect sense to me. And she loves it. "Bee-triss wants mook baby bottle."

Sass Attack


90% of the time, Beatrice is a sweet, obedient child. She loves snuggles and helping mommy and praying to God. But the other 10% of the time, she is sassy. She throws fits, she tells us no, she says she doesn't love us, and she hits things. We have discipline under control, but these little sass attacks are occurring a little too often.

 

So that's what Beatrice has been up to. Just riding her tractor naked to the potty to pee pee because she drank too much mook in a baby bottle while being sassy talking about herself in third person. Just your run of the mill awesomeness. I don't blame you if you have an undeniable urge to go procreate now. It's a natural phenomenon that occurs around such a child. She is definitely not perfect, but she certainly is the most perfect Beatrice.