honey got some boobies like wow, oh wow

yeah, I said it. If you don't want to read about boobs, just go ahead and skip this.

I've never been particularly, ahem, gifted in this area, which is why the day that I went to VS and the bra-fitter lady told me I was a D, I clapped and giggled for a solid 24 hours. The most amazing thing that's happened though was last night I was reading about breastfeeding and it said that around 23-24 weeks some women can manually express collostrum. Of course I tried it this morning and it WORKED. No water works or anything, but definitely a neat little trick I couldn't do a few weeks ago.

Guys. I can freaking create and sustain life. I am a freaking superhero.

et voila

I am honestly dumbfounded by how little money, time, and brain power to make my very own "Hooter Hider." Thanks again to CityCraft for the fabulous *BOLD! BEAUTIFUL! GENDER NEUTRAL!*  fabric (ONLY A YARD PEOPLE) and the Mama Monster, where I got the pattern.

also made this week: an oilcloth bag. I took a class over at CityCraft and learned soooo much (including that i need to get my machine serviced...oops) and had a wonderful time with a cozy gathering of women. I had never taken a sewing class before and was really nervous but had a blast and will definitely be going back.

Guess what everyone's getting for Christmas!

In other kinds of crafting news, my herb garden is basically just tending to itself...I've got loads of Basil, thyme, oregano, chamomile, and my bright lights chard just keeps on giving! It's really amazing. I wanted a wild herb garden, and that is certainly what I'm getting. I don't even stress about the caterpillars that have moved in on my parsley remnants.

The thing that has made me smile the most this summer is that an heirloom tomato from last year has decided to plant it's pretty self in the not-so-sunniest spot in the garden. AND THEN decided that op, nope, about a foot away would be MUCH better thank you, and...well, we've got 3 baby tomatoes going and are just going to see what happens:

I am amazed at nature.

not worthy. also, living mindfully.

oh, the saving grace of the beautiful women I have the pleasure of calling besties. Tonight Kyle's guy friends came over about 6ish and kidnapped him for a pre-fatherhood "bachelor"-type party. Without telling him where they were going, they hauled him off to the Choctaw Casino up in Oklahoma. When I found out about the idea, I cried. I can't wait to get the full report tomorrow morning :)

So while the guys were out, the girls decided to have our own fun which involved tiaras, GayBingo, and an evening in the Bishop Arts District. I was expecting to go out and having a wonderful time, I was not expecting to be showered with all kinds of love and wonderfulness. I have some kick-ass girlfriends, and am blessed to share life with them.

Which brings me to my next random thought (it's WAY past my bedtime, so I'm delirious, so bear with me) about being present in our own lives. It's been a struggle the last few weeks to actually connect with...anyone. There's all this stuff I want to do and people I want to hang out with but honestly...and I never EVER thought I would EVER be this person...all I want to do when I get home is lay on the couch and let my brain melt into butter while watching television. It is the most counterproductive thing on the planet...I KNOW that the key to my happiness means doing something with my hands and not being inert, but I just want to lay there and not think. In fact, it's been WEEKS since we've seen some of our friends who live TWO MILES AWAY. I've heretofore declared things like this unacceptable.

We as a couple have gotten sucked into this vortex of being exhausted when we get home, and are still trying to balance how to work this two person full-time worker thing and then once you start thinking about not only having a kid but HEY we haven't walked the dog in like a month and a half what the heck and then there are friends and family we haven't seen in ages and how are we supposed to give all we can at work and still have time for our little family when we get home and then connect with everyone? As far as I can tell it means taking a few minutes out of my day to just breathe, relax, and know that it's okay to not give out every last drop at work, to save some for myself. I get the feeling that sanity in parenting is similar...having to fight for what you love and believe in but also know that you need to stay true to yourself and refill that well. It all comes back to self care, doesn't it.

I mean, I'm inclined to think that television is the root of all evil anyway, but any suggestions anyone out there has would be a fascinating read.

crafting mama

Working with my hands, be it writing, crocheting, painting, sewing, gardening, cooking, making music, is the key to my happiness and sanity. I am blessed to come from a long line of hippies and homemakers and married into a family that truly cherishes and rocks out all things handmade. I am currently inspired by a place in Dallas called CityCraft, a place to find beautiful fabrics (Amy Butler in the flesh omg!) and resources. I go probably every other week...because it coincides with payday...and because I love nothing more than letting my brain unwind in front of their endless array of color and pattern choices.

When my neice was born 8 years ago my sister had a tough time finding big 40" swaddle blankets and employed me to make a bunch for her friends after her mother in law made her a bunch. When I started looking around for registry items I realized that I didn't like a single pattern anywhere, and decided to make my own. Feast your eyes:

I am obsessed with Michael Miller and Amy Butler fabrics. I originally was going to make 8 swaddle blankets but have decided to make one more and then move on to more projects. I've gotten a whole lot more confident with my sewing machine, can navigate its tempermental tension settings, and actually figured out how to make square blankets.

I have a zillion ideas swirling around in my head...I just found a hooter hider pattern that I cannot WAIT to try out, maybe next week, and have decided I want to make a whole bunch of new placemats, runners, and napkins, seeing as our table is GORGEOUS and is in need of some new bling.

HelLO, nesting monster.

the frequently asked questions

I saw this video about a year ago and still every time I watch it I laugh my butt off. I've worked very hard to not be "that pregnant girl" with all the smugness and self-righteousness. Hopefully it's working.

What I've found insane while being pregnant is the crazy, wildly intimate things people will tell you now that you're in the Mommy Club. People and their unsolicited advice and/or miscarriage stories are uh..sometimes hard to listen to, but I've gotten good at just smiling and saying "uh huh..." I feel blessed that there is a certain intimacy surrounding childbirth and I'm honored to be someone with whom people feel like sharing their fears and difficult times. What's been cool is that I now know the juicy details about just about everyone in my family and how they were born. I love those stories, and admire the mothers even more, knowing that they faced their hardest challenge and triumphed beautifully.
I've come to the conclusion that everyone has their own personal idea of how things should be done and that is the Right Way, which is fine for them, and I can make my own decisions. I have the feeling it's going to be like this just bringing a child into the world. For now, my way happens to include chocolate, chai lattes, eggs over easy, dr. pepper, turkey sandwiches and the occassional half glass of wine. So, you know. Judge away ;)

I've been getting a lot of the same questions lately, so thought I'd answer them on here.

Can you feel the baby moving?
uhh...all the time. It's quite distracting, and I know it's only going to get moreso and wow am I looking forward to it :) Yesterday I was in the elevator and felt my baby do this crazy somersault and my first reaction was "GROSS!" Y'all, it's really sci-fi stuff up in here and I try really hard not to think of this:

You're using a midwife? Are you doing a waterbirth?
Well? The two things aren't mutually inclusive, and honestly the thought of bobbing in my own goo really oogs me out, but the birth center is equipped with a totally kick-ass jacuzzi tub that I plan on using to ease the pains and tensions of labor. If the baby happens to decide it wants to be born when I'm in the tub, then cool, but I'm not married to any specific plan.

You're not finding out the gender?!
Oh, we know, but we're not telling.

Kidding.

Nope. Don't worry, it came as a complete surprise to me too. Some friends did the same thing and I thought it was the dumbest thing ever. How are you going to plan? What clothes is the baby going to wear? I am so that girl who used to sneak under the Christmas tree and unwrap presents and then re-wrap them. I'm a spoiler of surprises of epic proportions. But...the more I thought about it, and the fact that our house has the one extra room for baby space, I realized that there was no way I'd ever want to trick out a room all in all boy or girl stuff and then repaint it later. So, laziness is my number 1 answer. Also, I'm not a huge fan of pastel colors, and neither blue or pink are in my scheme of favorites. I've actually had a fantastic time thinking about all the ways I'm going to combine greys, browns, black, greens, dark purples, oranges, and reds.

I had a sonogram last week and WOW is all I can say - I wasn't expecting to get all up close and personal with my kid's neural ventricals and heart chambers. It was absolutely awe-inspiring. We weren't even tempted to find out the gender, and the awesome tech didn't even push us.

Do you have any weird cravings?
At the beginning I couldn't eat anything, so I would just head into the cafeteria at work and think about stuff until I settled on something that sounded good. I ate french fries and mustard about three days straight. It wasn't my proudest moment. I have never EVER been a fan of cereal but right now I'm luxuriating in a bowl of quaker oat squares. I don't necessarily get a lot of weird cravings, but I try to practice mindful eating which sometimes means standing in the store with a blank look on my face while I think of every possible combination. What's great about being prego is that when I finally do come to the conclusion of what I want to eat, be it cous cous and buffalo or chicken and waffles or a turkey sandwhich it is the BEST FLIPPING THING I HAVE EVER EATEN! It's kind of awesome.

So, I heard you were really sick and puking all the time?
This is my least favorite question not because I hate reliving the experience but because people tend to ask it right in the middle of a meal. I'm actually still puking every once in awhile. I barf in the mornings probably like 2 out of 7 days a week, and then yesterday I was queasy all day, then came home, crawled in bed and napped, then hurled everything I'd eaten all day. I then slept 13 hours and woke up feeling really weak but now feel really good. So yeah. I'll talk about it, but don't ask me about it when I'm trying to enjoy my breakfast.

good morning, insomnia, how are you?

There is an alien resident in my body and it makes me do all kinds of weird things. Like pee 500 times a day. Like, wake up at all hours of the night to pee. Like, go to bed at 8pm and then wake up refreshed, bright eyed and bushy tailed. At 1am. I'm learning to roll with the punches but dang. Pregnancy's bag of tricks sure is wide and varied. I still need to take a belly shot or two, I realize this. I was doing my music therapy rounds of my floors, checking in with folks when the inevitable "YOU'RE PREGNANT OMG!?" conversation came up and a nurse, a healthcare professional, guessed after looking at me that I was 10 weeks prego. Actually, before that she guessed that I was totally yanking her chain and I most certainly was not. It was kinda surreal.

The other thing that has me puzzled is that I am generally speaking a very. VERY. Emotional individual. Like, cries at dog food and SPCA commercials. A lot of people wonder how I do what I do at the hospital and I just...the smiles, the families, the sheer musical genius of the kids I work with all outweighs all the leeches crazy, heavy stuff that we deal with on a daily basis. However, I've not been the standard weepy mess I usually am. I didn't even cry at the season finale of Glee.

I know. Blame the foetus.

Thing is, I need to cry every once in awhile, and I last week I could feel an Edward-Scissorhands-type boo-hoo building up inside, not over anything and about everything at the same time. The hubs and I had both been insanely busy and involved at work, meaning we didn't have a whole lot of time to just sit and rap between episodes of The Good Guys and The Bachelorette, and there's a LOT of stuff we have to get figured out in the next four months, one of which being re-doing our bedroom/bathroom/study area. He asked about how long into the pregnancy I'd be able to handle moving everything out of the back of the house and living in the guest room for a couple months and when I started picturing the process of it I burst into tears right there. I wish I'd had a camera to capture the look on his face because...well the next words out of his mouth were something like, "Hey...uh...crazy? Can we discuss tile choices?" It's just that I had just figured out how to be prego and do this glorious work that I love and the thought of turning another part of my life upside down just...well, it made me Ugly Cry over white subway tiles with green accents.

Never a dull moment, folks, this Life with a Fetus.

hey baby hey baby hey

Kyle felt the nugget move for the first time today :) The end.

total preg-out moment, round dos.

Maybe I'm just weird, maybe it's because I've got a lot going on, but I used to get a little frustrated when people are all "OMG ARE YOU SO EXCITED TO BE PREGNANT?!" I felt guilty for so long because my honest answer was a big fat NO. Mostly because I felt gross at the time, had no clue what I was doing, and was scared out of my wits. I also had all these things I wanted to do before I got pregnant. 

The biggest one being this: I assumed that I would have a job for a while and then quit it because I didn't want to put my kids in daycare and have someone else raise my children. Well, we all know how that worked out. I honestly never thought I'd get the job of my dreams at 27. I thought it was going to happen in like, 10 years. I'm still reconciling the thought of childcare (which is why I'm just now starting to look into it) and being okay with not feeling bad about how hard I've worked and the blessings that have been tossed my way that got me where I am. 

I've had complete crying freak-outs over the silliest things...like the time it was too hot out and I couldn't go to a concert with my friends because I nearly got heat stroke from walking around the block that morning. I literally sobbed on the couch in Kyle's arms and wailed, "I just want my life back! I want to know how to feel better!" Or my personal favorite "What am I supposed to do when the baby cries? What if it's hungry AND poopy? Do we change the diaper first then feed it or the other way around?" (note: I have since had it on good authority that nobody, no matter what age they are, likes to eat while sitting in their own stuff.)

And then I think, "what is WRONG WITH ME?" I know of several people who are probably reading this and wanting to punch me in the face because they want to be pregnant, or have a hard time getting there and think that this all sounds really selfish and ungrateful of me. For that I apologize. I really do think that my hormones are a little off and my serotonin (ie: my happy brain juice) is whacked out.

I do have to say though, that I get excited in bursts. There was the time when I was dyeing the onesies for my friend, and then I did some music therapy with a teeny tiny baby that involved singing and rocking and infant massage and my brain flashed forward to 5 months from now and I got all verklempt. 

Hands down the most embarrassing thing that's happened is after work last week Kesha's "Your Love Is My Drug" came on the radio and y'all. I was IN. TEARS.

Here are some pertinent snippets:

My friends think I've gone crazy

My judgement's gone a little hazy

I don't care what people say

The rush is worth the price I pay

What you've got is hard to find

I think about (you) all the time

I'm all strung out my heart is fried

I just can't get you off my mind

(I think you know the chorus)

Jeez - I'm getting weepy just thinking about it. Am I lame or WHAT?

Rumblings

So in baby news, we're 18 weeks along, or 4.5 months. This weekend we celebrated our anniversary by traipsing off to the North Texas hill country beauty that is Possum Kingdom and did a lot of swimming, reading, and sleeping. A lot. We were both in dire need of some mindless lake-staring :)

People have been asking if I can feel the baby move yet, and I've replied that it feels every once in a while like there's a goldfish flopping around in my uterus. This weekend though, as I laid to read on my stomach in the sand, and then again this morning while I was trying to go BACK to sleep at 6:30am, I was absolutely, utterly distracted and AWED by the rhumba being performed in my abdomen. I try to wrap my brain around the design of growing a baby inside a person and get lost in the intricacies and the wonder. It's pretty insane - both in theory and in practice. It's also a little sci-fi, so of course I like it. I'm excited for the day that K can actually feel the kiddo move around in there :)

Last week I went to another midwife appointment and the good news is I'm up a few pounds, and am quite certain it's all in my boobs. I am like my very own Boobzilla. I jokingly tell people that this is awesome, seeing as I got my dad's boobs in the genetic roulette game. It's taking some getting used to, though. I have to pay more attention to the appropriateness of my shirts, have to get a bigger size, well, because I can't spend money on a medium anything without thinking I have to wear it out in the next few days before I won't be able to be comfortable in it. 

We've started looking at and thinking about baby furniture, and have decided that there's enough cribs and rockers and barely used clothes and toys out there that should get us started...plus we're both handy with sanders and paintbrushes to make it all look trendy enough.

4 years :)

Just taking a moment to appreciate the way the last 5 years has totally rocked my world:

2005 Engagement Trip to Alaska

2006 Wedding

2007 First Anniversary in Connecticut

2008 Fixing up the new house

2009 in Breckenridge, Colorado

2010 East Coast of Oahu

Happy 4 Years, Love! I'm excited to be diving into this next adventure with you by my side.

Epiphany.

I was tie-dyeing some orange onesies for my friend and decided to throw a couple in there of the newborn variety for myself. It wasn't until I pulled them out of the dye and finished undoing the rubber bands on the first one for baby Stock that I swear I heard a firecracker go off in my head all glowing and sparkly like that said HOLY CRAP OUR BABY'S GOING TO WEAR THIS!

And then I started grinning and got really, REALLY excited :)

Growing Pains and Beauty Secrets

We all know about the crazy transformation a uterus goes through when it's housing a developing baby...LOTS of stretching and growing, which in theory is a magical thing. In practice? It's a little uncomfortable. Not in a bad way really, but in a I-just-spent-the-afternoon-at-Salt-Lick kind of way.

I know that stretch marks are a genetic inevitability for me, but that hasn't stopped me from getting some of the Mama Bee products that Burt's Bees put out - I picked up their peppermint leg and foot cream, body oil, and belly balm. I tried out the leg cream this morning after my shower and the tingly peppermint felt sooooooo good, because usually in the summer I am a furnace anyway and now I have this whole other circulatory system going on in my body so I'm ROASTING kind of all the time, so with the fan on and the tingly lotion...it was awesome. 

I have been a LUSH fanatic since before it came to the US, and when my sweet sister came into town last summer we discovered our mutual love and she shared her secret to beautiful skin which I have since adopted:

Burt's Bees Body Oil + LUSH Buffy Bar. Start at your feet and apply some oil then go to town with the buff bar, working your way up your body, scrubbing in circular motions. Rinse. 

I do this about 1-2 times/week.

Finally, every night right before going to bed I bust out the belly balm. Like I said, there's nothing to be done about stretch marks except nourish your skin, drink lots of water and love on it while marveling about the amazing stuff it can do (like make room for a whole other PERSON!). The massage also helps the oh-so-slow digestion (according to a massage therapist I talked to, you're supposed to top right to top left, down, and then from left to right).

Definitely enjoying this pregnancy thing a whole lot more these days :)

Thankful.

You know what? Thank GOD for the second trimester. If I felt the way I felt a couple weeks ago? We'd be having the one kid. In fact, the women I've spoken to who have thrown up "all day every day" for 9 months (their words) have a total of 1 child. I totally get that.

We got a juicer this weekend, which has coincided with me being JUST SO FREAKING EXHAUSTED and I think it's because the babe is wicked excited to be getting lots of delish nutrients and is busy growing and therefore wearing me out.  The latest concoctions have included variations on the theme of spinach/cucumber/apple/pineapple/strawberries/fresh blackberries/oranges/lemons.

In other words, there's a party in my tummy.

I threw up on my laundry today.

Hey, strangers.

I've felt a little disconnected from my whole enjoying-the-pregnancy thing because I've been trying to get my head around work and every wonderful and sometimes really difficult learning experience, so I decided to get back to my love of journaling. I have a brain drain that I try to write a couple pages in every night to empty everything out so that it doesn't keep me up at night. Working like a charm. Handwritten journaling is so my anti-drug.

I am feeling tons better, thankfully. More the mental aspect than anything, because sometimes I get queasy, and every weekday, without fail, I puke. Sometimes once, sometimes twice, always stomach acid. I've gotten to the point that I kind of look forward to it because I feel really, really good afterward. But today, I decided that maybe I should put some clothes in the wash before going to work. So I bend over to put the clothes in the washer and before I could stop it, I puked a little on my clothes. That were about to go into the washer. So you know, no harm no foul.

I'm deliriously sleepy - I played really hard today, so I'm going to put myself in cozy cozy bed and I promise I'll be a better blogger soon :) It's inevitable: the next 4 weeks are about to be filled with George Lopez, Bob Schneider, Train, Asleep at the Wheel, Rhett Miller, and Imogen Heap. 

"I can tell you're feeling better because you're crafting."

Oh, Candace knows me all too well.

I woke up Sunday morning a new person, nesting in FULL EFFECT. It's like my brain went: 

UH HELLO we've got SIX MONTHS to get your crap together before this baby shows up! GET UP!

Thankfully I was feeling like I had finally turned a corner. Thus began The Great Nesting of 2010. A lot of my friends have had babies recently and I owe pretty much everyone a gift. Here are a few things I've been working on:

crochet baby blanket for a little boy...need to run and get more gray. 

I found the pattern for this blanket here.

This blanket has taken WAY longer than I expected, 

so the sweet girl will probably get it when she turns 18. Pattern blocks can be found in this book.

I don't know why but tie-dyed baby clothes just make me giggle, and I love giving them as gifts. Here's a stack of some green onesies...I've got some more in the works including orange and pink. If anyone out there wants me to make them something, let me know.

Now, alls I need to do is get THIS mess organized, and I'll be set. Hopefully it won't take 6 months.

the road to the midwifery decision

Well, week 12 starts today and the nasty morning sickness has subsided...not entirely and not all the time, but enough to give me hope. I have moments of normal that nearly take my breath away. I'm having a hard time believing that I'm actually pregnant because I'm not showing at all. Maybe it'll become real with a sono or hearing the heartbeat in a couple weeks at my next midwife appointment :)

I've gotten some funny responses when I tell some people that we've decided to go the midwife route. Things like, "So, you have a midwife...do you have an OBGYN too?" or from my general practice doctor who asks me EVERY TIME I CALL if I want a referral to an OB or if my OB can do the blood test for my thyroid screen or what have you. It was mostly a timing issue...I ditched my old OB after she said that just because all the women in my family have thyroid problems doesn't automatically mean that I'll get them and then promptly refused a test that I requested. But I digress.

Anyhoo, I found out that my general practice doc does well woman exams which I generally schedule around my birthday. Well, we were kind of busy this year what with going to Hawaii and starting a new job, and by the time I looked up, it was a month later and I was prego. I already had a couple months of research under my belt regarding the practice and history of midwifery not because I was pregnant but because I wanted to know what my options were before I got into any sort of place where I'd have to hurry up and make a decision. I'd borrowed The Midwife from a friend and was absolutely fascinated by it, and then I read this post from the Dooce, ordered some more books like this, this, and this, watched Ricki Lake's The Business of Being Born, and it all just made sense.

Nobody can convince anyone else what is right for them, especially in the area of choosing what kind of prenatal care and birth practices are best for an individual, and I'm not going to get on a soapbox about it. Even if you agree or disagree one way or the other, I'd encourage anyone to check out some of the above mentioned resources and decide for yourself. 

If I were going to get anywhere near a soapbox, I would say that the linchpins in deciding for myself that this was what I wanted to do were the statistics of how many births in America are attended by midwives as opposed to how many are attended in every other country in the world, and that the maternal and infant distress/death rates in America are higher than anywhere else, and have remained high and not gone any lower, even though the instance of C-Sections has increased over the last 20 years. It wouldn't be the first time someone called me a granola eating hippie, but...I just don't believe that a woman in labor is something that should be treated as an emergency requiring tons of unnecessary and sometimes harmful interventions. It's a part of life, and I believe that women's bodies know exactly what to do when it's time. Okay. Backing away from the soapbox. But yeah, check out those books and movies, and let's chat :)

So, once I found out I was pregnant, I checked out a couple nearby midwife practices. One was the Allen Birthing Center about 15 miles up the road that had TONS of glowing online recommendations, including a friend of mine who's driving all the way from Arlington to get her prenatal care there. I loved them, but wanted to see if there were any other practices nearby. Kyle actually checked with our insurance and found a midwife that's not only in-network but practices a mile from our house. Bingo.

I suggested Kyle read this book because it was more the brainy part behind the whole midwife decision...a very different vibe from the hippies in Spiritual Midwifery, but I figured he wasn't quite ready for all that talk of birth as a psychedelic trip (although I thought it was fantastic). He was totally prepared with tons of questions for the midwife when we first met with her, and she patiently answered all our questions and spent at least an hour with us. We decided that day that she would be our midwife. 

Since then, I had my first visit which was an hour and 45 minutes at 9 weeks. It included a head-to-toe physical, a review of my overall fitness history and goals, my nutrition, and of course lots and lots of question and answer. I absolutely love how much time I get to spend with my midwife. She's hilarious and real, and what I like most is that she only takes on 6 births a month.  She's totally into the whole empowered woman approach to things, and approaches things like genetic testing or sonograms as such. Basically we're partners in making the decisions in my family's care - she, the educated experienced one, and me the neophyte with loads of questions who she believes is capable of making the sound decisions. She's on my speed dial and I know I can call her any time day or night with concerns and questions. Which I did, especially over the last few weeks.

So yeah - my next appointment is not this coming week but next, and I'm excited to hang out with her again and getting to hear the little one's heartbeat :)

fighting toward the new normal

I have learned so much in the last few weeks...I feel like I've grown up a lot, too. 

There have been changes at breakneck speed around here and I finally feel like I am finally catching up. Breathing. 

It's not something I liked at first, something I didn't even want to acknowledge. In fact, I found myself almost dumbfoundedly asking my hubs, "uhhhh...is this what it's always been like to be you?" because I've always ALWAYS been the super spontaneous see-the-world-right-now! of the two of us, while he's way more content hanging out at home, doing home things and being happy as a clam.

I'm learning to enjoy this. To need this. It's kind of hard when your body tells you, "hey so...I know you've got big plans for Saturday but...um...we've got this non-negotiable sleeping for 18 hours on the schedule in Sharpie, and you're just going to have to deal with it."

So this past Friday, I got home from work about 6pm, put on my pajamas, was asleep by 6:30pm. Woke up at 10pm, ate a slice of pizza, watched the finale of Project Runway, then slept until 7:30 Saturday morning. 

And was still. Sleepy.

Sunday though...today...was one of those rare good days. I feel my eyelids getting heavy even as I type this but I count today as a victory because I did some laundry, swept and vacuumed much of the house, of course did copious amounts of napping and resting, and got to actually enjoy the following:

Collard Greens: Boil a couple ham hocks, add onion, garlic, simmer for 30 minutes. Add greens, more salt than you think you're going to, pepper, and 1 can of Rotel. Let cook until you're ready to eat (another 30 minutes)

Kyle did a crazy ground mustard marinade on the ribs and then spent like 6 hours smoking them on the grill and alternating between them and the oven. He was like the Jedi master of ribs today.

Blackberry Cobbler: Kyle found these for 88 cents a package at the store, so of course he got tons.

Candace and I then moved a workbench outside and made some guacamole.

I thought it was a little ambitious, even for me, but ohhhhh it was good.

I was as they say, happy as a bird with a french fry.

And now, it's time to sleep.

Progress?

We've moved from barfing after eating something to barfing when I've not had anything in my stomach in the last five minutes.

I apologize if I haven't painted the rosiest of pictures of the last few weeks...it's been rough on pretty much every single aspect of my life: personally, professionally, sanity, laundry, wifery, cookery. I have to admit that I've been in a huge funk the last few weeks and am just now starting to pull myself (and get helped pulled) out of it. I am having a hard time being excited about all of this, I think because there are so many changes going on at the same time. I write this to be honest and for anyone out there who will ever feel like this: HEY YOU'RE NORMAL. 

I've had a few people speak so wisely and helpfully in my life lately by just letting me be, and having the grace to say not "oh it'll get better..." but "hey, this right here? it SUCKS and I know because I've BEEN THERE."

So yeah. I guess now I can say I've been there. And would like to get past it to the fun part.

little ears and little mouths

It's been really amazing sharing this adventure with my 7 year old niece...I told her on the phone that she was going to have a new cousin and she GAAASPED! and then told me she wanted it to be a girl. She is just bursting with questions and it's been fun to have our little conversations.

As I was feeling like death warmed over a few weekends ago, she and my sister stopped by the house to pick some chard, lettuce, and herbs, and when I was opening the front door, I heard Kat say, "is what Aunt Tina has contagious?"

I smiled and said no but what I REALLY wanted to say was, "Yes. You catch it from boys." But then I thought my sister might deck me.

I'm 8 weeks along as I write this (but not as you read this) and I can't say that I've had any huge epiphanies in the last week. We're trying to decide if we want to find out if the baby is a boy or a girl or wait and have it be a surprise. I'm less inclined to trick out the guest room in gender-specific pink or blue glittery things (because oh, there will be glitter) because we have a small house and the kid's room will still have to be functional as storage/sleeping space. I've found a black crib that I really like, one that grows with the kid, but I was thinking that if we have more than one anywhere close together, that a bed that turns into a full size bed is probably not the best answer for us space-wise.

Like I had any space in my brain to begin with for all this crazy stuff and here I am contemplating baby bedding.

The good news is that this whole thing has prompted my hubs to get moving on some projects we were taking our time with...things like getting the horrid garage situation figured out, and getting the house painted. I'm really pumped about the house colours mostly because it includes a red front door (!!!) and hopefully the fresh coat of paint will liven up our cozy casa just a bit.

sweet, sweet relief

Last Saturday I had to spill the beans to a friend of mine because she also battled really horrendous morning sickness. At first she offered me her prescription anti-nausea meds, but then since she and I are both rule followers, she referred me to her chiropractor and gave me her number so I could talk to her about what to do because I wasn't able to hold down ANYTHING.

Oh, sweet sweet relief! Her name is Autumn and she is quite possibly the best thing that's happened to me (besides the actual finding out I'm pregnant and my husband being absolutely incredible) since this journey began. She suggested I try a couple homeopathic things which I tried immediately and OH MY GOSH THEY WORK! I was actually able to eat for the first time in like, 9 days. I had a slice of pizza with the meds, then I went out with some ladies for Indian food and had a teeny tiny taste of everyone's food, and didn't throw up! I seriously nearly cried.

I ordered a book called Expecting by Marla Taviano, which is a week-by-week update on the baby, on how a mom's body is changing, a Bible verse, quote, and some space for a devotional. In my miserable stupor one night I started flipping through and around week 23 found the verse:

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

Matthew 11:28-29

I would be lying if I told you that it hasn't taken me a few weeks to get used to the idea that there's another person being knit together in there, and I was having a hard time finding any inner peace whatsoever because of the raging awfulness last week brought. When I read that verse above though, my heart immediately stilled and I was able to take a deep breath. Yes, I've been able to lean on others and have them support me, but I had somehow forgotten that God is really the only one who can bring that sweet inner peace, and that His rest is what I should've been seeking all along. That lesson seemingly popped out of nowhere, and I was happy to find it.