Sunday, November 11, 2012

Ees for fun.

How far along? 29 weeks
Total weight gain: 14 lbs. thus far
Maternity clothes? Oh yes. I officially can't pull off normal shirts any more. Sad day.
Stretch marks? None so far. Coconut oil, do not fail me!
Sleep: ehhhhh
Best moment this week:  going on a Gap spree with our discount card from her Auntie Cam. Eric managed to find a green and blue flannel dress and was so excited that they could match. It was fantastic. Oh! and the bartender at the wedding we just went to measured me out the perfect sized glass of red wine. I almost cried.
Miss Anything? Breathing. Runners up include Cabernet Sauvingon, tequila, and tying my own shoes.
Movement: wiggles, twitches and my morning "wake up!" rib punches.
Food cravings: Jello, honey nut Cheerios with bananas, coconut hot chocolate
Anything making you queasy or sick: hmm still the smell of food cooking. Especially red meat. Bleh.
Gender:  Little lady

Labor Signs: psh. Nuffing real. Lots of  Braxton Hicks, but that's about it.
Symptoms: I would love an oxygen tank right about now.
Belly Button in or out? in but barely.
Wedding rings on or off? On, but my ring finger is not happy about that. It's itchy.

Happy or Moody most of the time: Somewhere between happy and crazy on edge.
Looking forward to: Finally seeing what she looks like! Bringing her home. And labor. Lehhss do this thing!

Friday, November 9, 2012


Cameras are not my friends. I avoid them at all costs. I was not blessed with the same gorgeously photogenic genes as my mom and sisters. Not sure how those skipped me, but alas, they did.
Something about cameras temporarily makes me forget how to smile and leaves me with an awkwardly posed I-think-this-is-how-I-smile-normally?? look on my face.
It kinda looks like this:
And then I get all like

I chose our wedding photographer based on a few simple facts--her previous work was beautimous aaaand she promised me minimal "now look at me and smile" posing.

I suppose it's natural to run from something that you always feel makes your face a little fuller, your teeth a little more..."off" white, your weight on your license a little more questionable.....(Okay, maybe it's not entirely natural. I never run from Oreos--riddle me that. Maybe I should have said "some mechanical thing.")
Eric and I have been tossing around the idea of newborn photos for a few weeks now. It's an established fact--I WANT the pictures. But who should take them? The grand appeal to me of doing them myself--I would not be in any! Woohooo!!!
No pouring over picture after picture trying to ignore my awkward smile face and trying to focus on the others in the shot. No knowing that while I'll love the little chubby bunny in my arms, I won't instantly love my own post-baby chubby bunny-ness.
Purely selfish and vain--you betcha. But to be fair, it's also part genuine fear--cameras give me anxiety. I'm not sure why! I love, love, love other people's newborn/family shots. I think they are stunning! Beautiful!
The thought of going in front of the camera myself scares the living daylights out of me.

And now I think I need to get over that.
I was in the middle of my usual internet morning stroll, and I found this little gem of an article.

I think she says it all. I thought about it, and I really don't want to deny my baby girl pictures with her mama. I may not think I look my best, but really, that's not the important part. I love my pictures of me and my mom. I love seeing her smile and her warm eyes and the love that pours out of her. I love seeing my face next to hers and noting our similarities, our differences. I'm so glad that as a kid, my mom let me take her picture while she made pancakes, even if she doth protest firth. I'm glad that, most of the time, when she would film us with the video camera, she's flip it around for a split second and give a cheery, "Aaand I was here, too!" I love that this happened for me and now I need to conquer my camera fears so I can make it happen for my baby. I don't think she'll look and see how lop-sided I think my eyes get when I camera-smile. I mean, I hope not anyways. I hope she'll just see that her mama loves her.

Better book the photographer!
Now there's something I never thought I'd say excitedly. Mind=blown.

P.S. Why, yes! I did just discover a kick ass gif page! How could you tell?

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

"You come from a long line of sinners like me"

The infamous shirt. I got one of him
standing in front of the American flag instead.
Slightly less scandalous ;)
We got to go to an Eric Church concert on Sunday night and it. was. AMAZING. He is one bad ass guy who puts on a fantastic show! I was especially excited about the big, fun group we got to go with. We loaded up a 15 passenger van (cuz that's how we roll) and showed LA just how fun 5 pregnant ladies can be at a country concert! (The answer: pretty damn). I think the best part of the night, (ya know, aside from Steve getting mistaken for thee Eric Church) had to be this one song. It's one I've always liked but never thought about too much. Well, my little babe was pretty quiet for pretty much the whole show. Not a kick or hiccup or bladder jab to be detected. But once this song started, she went nuts. Just til the end. Then she was done for the night. Since then it's been in my head. I've been humming it to her and thinking about it. In a way, I think I'm going to give this one to her.

Ok, so it's about a guy. Aaand it has two verses devoted to drinking. But the thought behind it has stuck with me. I've always given certain songs to certain times and people in my life. This one made me think about how I hope she feels when she's older. I hope she knows her mama was not even close to perfect. I hope she's not afraid to come to me with her mistakes and problems. I hope she knows I will never expect perfection from her. I mean, this is me we're talking about here. I had to seriously talk myself out of buying a t-shirt that said "Eric Fu*king Church" on it. (I know, sooo ka-lassy, but whatever, it made me laugh and it would've never been seen outside our house.)

We all fall down, I've messed up, she'll mess up. We just do the best we can. I hope when she comes to me with a mistake, I'll remember how to help her through, and also to remind her that we just can't be perfect. She'll "come from a long line of sinners like me."