Can't. Freakin'. Wait!

I'm getting pretty excited about this time, next year.
I know, I know, not exactly "in the moment" of me. But there is so much to look forward to about this time next year!
I love the fall and the winter and all the jolly holidays in between. I'm soo freakin' excited that next year will be our year of firsts--baby girl's first Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, all the good stuff! I'm currently stalking Baby Gap's clearance rack so I can pounce on some awesome Halloween jammies. Aaaand I may or may not have Christmas jammies already in my cart. (I have a semi-irrational fear that everyone will find them as adorable as I do and that they will sell out FAST.)

Another big excitement factor--we will hopefully be buying a house closer to family and friends next spring/summer. Which to me means one very important thing--HOSTING PARTIES! Granted I'm pretty sure our first house will be tiny, but it's bigger than a 1/1 apartment and therefore, I must host! I love holidays, one and all. Heck, I'd even Americanize/bastardize Bastille Day if it meant celebrating and eating crepes. And I love a good holiday party. I don't mean that in a "politically correct December way," I mean any holiday is cause for celebration to me! Halloween jamboree, Fourth of July BBQ, New Years Eve extravaganza, Christmas cookie and cocoa night--It doesn't matter, I love it.
Holiday specific tablewear--love it.
Pumpkins for decorating from September 26 through Black Friday--love it.
Old school plastic pumpkin buckets--love it.
Green nails in March--love it.
Old Navy Flag shirts in July--love it.
Homemade Valentine's cards--love it.
Christmas presents and midnight Mass--love it.
Baking in November--love it.
Sparkly drinks/dresses on NYE--love. that. shit. (Sorry, getting excited here.)
Now I'm excited for this year!

But seriously, next year--look out! Eric's time off permitting, we will be hosting fiends. People will get sick of all the invitations. The parties swirling around in this head of mine. It'll be awesome. I don't care if it's just a Me Party a la The Muppets with just the 3 of us. Celebrations will be had. You should come!

The Good Stuff

I put in my notice for my last day of work. Come December 1st, I'm a free, fat little bird :)

Eric insisted I get new running shoes since my last pair were....4ish years old and flat little pancakes. Yeah, dropped the ball on that one. Buuuut, thanks to the kind people at Brooks, I now have shoes that I think were cobbled by angels. My feet, ankles and knees are so happy the could cry.

My Christmas presents are all wrapped up and they look beautimous.

On a Christmas note, I talked Eric into getting a mini 3ft. tree this year. I've always wanted one but last year he said no. But seeing as how last year we had a 6ft. beauty with only one solitary ornament on it, he agreed to downsize. I'm so freaking excited.

Ever since they added Michael Strahan to the show, Eric likes to watch Live! with me in the mornings when we're both home. It's a nice, cozy little ritual.

My stomach has become home of the amazing disappearing stretch marks. I'll swear I see one starting, all red and skinny going across my stomach. One dousing of coconut oil (whoop for home remedies) and a night of sleep later, it's gone. I think they're just teasing me for now, but fingers crossed that they stay away. Just for funsies.

I'm going to make Jello this afternoon. And maybe a strawberry cake.

I'm going to take my favorite chicklets  trick-or-treating in a few days. I love watching them flip out over candy.

I just discovered Hart of Dixie. Me! Lover of all things country and rustic with accents. It's on Netflix. What have I been doing with my life?

I found a mode on the elliptical at the gym that coaches you through a cross training workout. It's my new favorite thing. It gets just about everything and gets me in and out of the gym fast.

I have a huge pot of homemade soup in the fridge. Nom, nom, nom.

Halloween is next week, which means Thanksgiving is coming soon, which means Christmas will be here soon, and New Years will be here soon.
And our baby will be here soon :) EEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Lean, mean, nesting machine

Okay, okay.
Lean is debatable at this point.
Mean.....eh, I prefer hormonal.
But come on, "big bellied, hormonal, nesting machine" just doesn't paint a pretty picture.

In the past few hours I've:
scrubbed my kitchen
cleaned out all my bathroom cabinets
took all my paper Trader Joe's bags and plastic shopping bags to recycling
went to Target to buy organizing supplies
started a batch of homemade applesauce
moved a bookcase
reorganized our coat/shoe closet
vacuumed everything
Folded a ton of laundry

Still to go today and tomorrow:
baseboard scrubbing!
organize kitchen cabinets
go through boxes of crap and throw stuff away
more laundry!
wash my car and clean it out (....yikes....)
dust
organize baby stuff
meal plan for the week

Hmmm see, I hit 25 weeks this morning. So between realizing that and dealing with a ton of Braxton Hicks in the past few days, it just feels like she's going to be here before I know it. I have an overwhelming desire to clean EVERYTHING. IN. SIGHT. and organize to the nth degree. Very un-me.
And Eric's gone working overtime, so I don't gots much else to do on my day off.
We'll see how long this lasts.
Now if you'll excuse me, I am disturbingly excited to attack my baseboards.

Sap--it's not just for trees anymore.

I am a full blown sentimental sap.
Yep. If there was a support group, I would be a part of it, if there was a shirt, I'd own it. Hell, I'd run the group and the shirt factory.
It can be embarrassing at times--crying at commercials, anyone?--but I've embraced it. S'pose that's for the best since this whole pregnancy thing has my emotionalism jacked. Big time.
Case in point--today I had a moment. I was all alone so no one would've ever known, but here I am posting about it on the internet.
I was watching an old Gilmore Girls episode. At the very end, Luke goes to his ex's house in superman protective dad mode and tells her how he will fight for his daughter. He was yelling about how he needs to see her and what a great relationship they have and how he'll fight to keep it and I...yeah, teary hot mess. Got me thinking about my sweet, protective husband.

 Now that I'm showing much more and he's felt/seen her kick, I think it's gotten more real to him. He has entered the too cute "My wife is delicate" phase. Protective to the max. He was making pasta sauce the other night and had me examine the mushrooms to make sure I could eat them. Even after I assured over and over that mushrooms were just fine. In the past few weeks, he surprised me with a beautimous new rocking chair, flowers, TJ's fruit leather (he's got my numba), offered repeatedly to paint my toes for me after I mentioned I couldn't reach them anymore, rubbed my shoulders and jumped to his feet saying, "What?! What do you need?!" if I gave the slightest cue that I was getting out of bed at night. It's so sweet, I don't even know what to do with myself.

I can't freakin' wait to see him with our little lady. In my head, she looks just like him--I swear in our last ultrasound I saw his nose. Something tells me she'll have him on her little finger, but he's already started the, "She will not be allowed to wear/see/do that" talk. Hehehe. He's a sweetheart. Hopefully she finds someone just like her daddy some day.

My darlingest daugher,

Well my sassy little sprite, we have been together for 20 weeks now. And already, I think you've got a pretty distinct personality. Just take your 17 week ultrasound. You even made the tech laugh! As soon as there was a camera on you, you turned your tiny head right towards us and waved. All I got out was, "Is she...?" and the right away the lady laughed and said, "Yep! That's definitely a wave!" Hehe. Then I found out you were a girl after we referred to you as "he" for so long. You didn't seem offended though. After we got the shot, the camera moved back to your little face and the tech started laughing again. You had your mouth wide open like you were laughing saying, "Haha! Gotcha, mama and daddy!" So basically, I think you're a mini jokester.
 You sure are a strong! You really like to kick me while I try to fall asleep. Actually it seems your favorite time of day is 11am or pm. Apparently, that's play time. It's fun to keep track of these things. Just to see if you're still like that when you're here. To see if 11 is still fun time. If you're still a ham for the camera. If you like to joke around and play tricks on your daddy. If food time is still your favorite time. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that. So, like I said before in another post, I talk to you a lot. And usually I ask you what you want to eat because, let's face it, in my right, non-pregnant mind, I would never eat some of the combinations I've had in the past 5 months. Almost every time, after we agree on something and I eat it, you do a little back flip. Seriously. I feel you flutter kicking all over the place like you're saying "Mmm good job, mom." So we'll see if you're the same picky, indecisive eater down the road.

I know this all sounds crazy and you're probably freaked out that this crazy person is your mama. But know that I do these silly things--keeping track of your personality-thus-far and writing you letters that you won't read for a while--because I find you so fascinating. We're half way through this pregnancy, we are :) And these little things help me pass the time til you're here.I just can't wait to meet you. I want you here now! Hehehe. I want to see your face. I want to talk to you and sing songs to you. Cuz...right now I just look silly doing those things to my tummy. I love you, monkey. And now I'm going to go get myself an orange, because that's what you want right now.

Hormones and gratitude.

Soooo, I'm totally that weird girl who walks around her house talking to her stomach.
Sue me.
I'm alone a lot and enjoy that now I can talk to my new little girl(!)friend. Today we were cleaning and doing laundry and she was kicking up a storm. I assume this means she enjoys housework as much as her mama ;) I tried different names on her, I asked her what she wanted for lunch, I hung her new pictures on the fridge.
At some point while I was hovering over my stove, willing my quesadilla to cook faster, I had what I like to call a gratitude/hormone attack. Glad you asked. A gratitude/hormone attack happens when I'm overcome with thoughts that I'd have any other day and smile, but during pregnancy they turn me into a crying mess. I started thinking about our little family, and Eric telling me last night to "take care of my little girl!" (heart=melted), and...implosion. I stood there crying  like the hormonal sap that I am, with my arms wrapped around my stomach, thanking God for giving us this little life. This sweet little girl is ours. Just that statement blows my little mind. I'm amazed at how much I love this little peanut already. And how even in just a day, she's brought out a side of Eric that makes me love him even more. I mean, he's been great the whole pregnancy, but watching him process the whole "girl" thing and seeing his silly smile afterward just....:) wow.

All this while cooking Mexican food.
You should see me watch a chick flick.

I wonder if this means I shouldn't watch The Family Man this Christmas?

Hi, remember me?!

Oh goodness, hello little neglected blog!
So basically, I've tried to write this post at least 6 times. Seriously. I have all of them saved as drafts. Chalk it up to pregnancy hormones or fatigue or whatever, but I couldn't bring myself to post any of them. I could not for the life of me put a coherent thought together. My mind was all over the place. I quote to poet McConaughey in his prolific piece "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days"--

"You're up, you're down, you're here, you're there, you're like a freakin' one woman circus, Andy!"

Oh yeah. BTdubs. I'm pregnant. I'm pretty sure all of my vast viewership knows this by now, but, ya know, now it's official. And yes, I did just write in high school text speak. I'm 16 weeks and feeling a little bit better than I did a month ago. Not 100% yet, but honestly I don't think I'll ever be the same 100% again, so I better get used to it. Case in point--We went to a wedding a few weekends ago. Eric was taking me to the dance floor. I was ashamed, but also a little proud of such an accomplishment. I finally broke the man--he likes to dance! Muahaha.

Anyways, now that I'm a little more, shall we say, able-brained, it's time to do one of my favorite things--make a to-do list. I've got 5 more months to get a few things in order. Starting with...

1. Put a filter on that mouth. I think I was a sailor in another life. Not all the time. But at any given time, given the proper circumstances, I can get on a roll that I can't quite decide would make my dad proud or embarrassed. My lovely mother once...many times...told me that she didn't raise me to talk like that. To which I respond, "Maybe you didn't. But dad did." Hehehe me and my clever responses. It amuses Eric and even my mama, but I sure don't want my 2 year old talking like me. Better get on that. Mission "Eradicate the F-Bomb" is on.

2. Clean stuff. I've found the great paradox of my pregnancy: a great desire to clean/nest coupled with an overwhelming annoying exhaustion. It's ridiculous, but it's usually brought on the same way. I'll be driving home from the market with all sorts of plans of a carpet cleaning, base board scrubbing, general whole home bleaching extravaganza. And then it happens. I meet my great destroyer. The one thing that unravels all my plans in a matter of seconds....ok, it used to be seconds, these days it's closer to a full minute. Yes, I meet my ultimate demise in, my Everest...the 15 step single flight of stairs up to our second floor apartment. The way I climb that thing you'd think I just spent the last 2 hours on a Stairmaster. I heave, I huff, I puff, I curse its existence, I stop at step 7 for a break, I count the remaining 8 steps, I try to catch my breath at the top, I unlock the door, drop the groceries on the floor and collapse on my couch to recover from another successful climb up the Himalayas. The day's cleaning plans? Gone. Well, that's not entirely true, I dream about them during my nap on the couch. I'm trying to let myself enjoy the fact that this is my only pregnancy I'll ever have by myself, but the fact is...I need to mop shit. *As you can see, Goal #1 is getting along swimmingly.

3. Kind of goes with #2, but find the floor in our bedroom. So our bedroom is a disaster. Has been since we moved here. Wait, wait, let me explain. Allow me to paint a picture for you--our bed takes up almost all the room. Our tiny closet is stuffed with storage boxes filled with things that will be nice when we have a house, but don't quite fit in a 1/1 apartment. Eric has a dresser and a clothes rack at the foot of the bed and the floor is covered with boxes of more stuff, laundry that would be in the laundry room if we had one, clean clothes that have no where to go and towels and sheets that are homeless without a linen closet. Now don't get me wrong, I am so thankful to have our little home, but it would be nice to figure out a different storage technique that would give me back the floor in my room.

4. Christmas shop! This is its own post, really, but I'll intro it here. My goal is to have everything purchased and wrapped by the end of September. The simple fact of the matter is come December I will be 8 months huge and a packed mall just doesn't sound like it'll be a good time. Or trying to wrap stuff and tie bows when I won't be able to tie my shoes. So I'm hunting down deals and I've found some great stuff so far. In fact as of this morning, I am two gifts away from having all of our nieces and nephews done. Woo hoo!!!

So that's the list for now. I'm sure I'll be adding to it as time passes and I grow in circumference.
Have a lovely Thursday!