Except he was 10 pounds smaller than he is now. He is 95th percentile for height. We'll see how long he can keep that up. :) We love him. He is our favorite little friend. And I hear him waking up from his nap...gotta run!
Saturday, October 29, 2011
A new friend
5 months ago, a little friend came to live with Ty and me...
Except he was 10 pounds smaller than he is now. He is 95th percentile for height. We'll see how long he can keep that up. :) We love him. He is our favorite little friend. And I hear him waking up from his nap...gotta run!
Except he was 10 pounds smaller than he is now. He is 95th percentile for height. We'll see how long he can keep that up. :) We love him. He is our favorite little friend. And I hear him waking up from his nap...gotta run!
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Still carrying a parasite
Granted, I'm not even due yet...I have 18 more days...but I would love for this baby to come already. He is SOOOO heavy. Ty laughs at me because I have to take breaks when I walk from room to room or because I'm constantly breathing like I'm trying out for the part of Darth Vader in some Star Wars remake, but it ain't easy making another human, people!
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Some things in my life
I haven't blogged in forever. But I can't sleep. So...
This is me and my most favorite person in the world:
Please excuse the poor quality of my stolen photo and the copyright mark...
Tomorrow we are buying this together:
One of our other recent projects is this:
You can't see too clearly, but it looks like he has a Samoan nose...
This is me and my most favorite person in the world:
Please excuse the poor quality of my stolen photo and the copyright mark...Tomorrow we are buying this together:
You can't see too clearly, but it looks like he has a Samoan nose...We really like him and are happily awaiting his arrival within the month. He is due the day after our first anniversary.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Other things (or people) I love
So adorable.
Every one tells me you love them even more when they're yours. I honestly can't imagine because I love this little boy so much and he belongs to Marty and Anna. It is sometimes weird to think that in four months, Ty and I will have one of our own whom we love and adore. Probably especially weird for Ty since he still can't feel our baby kick due to all the protective padding I built around him to keep him safe...
Every one tells me you love them even more when they're yours. I honestly can't imagine because I love this little boy so much and he belongs to Marty and Anna. It is sometimes weird to think that in four months, Ty and I will have one of our own whom we love and adore. Probably especially weird for Ty since he still can't feel our baby kick due to all the protective padding I built around him to keep him safe...
Sorry, peeps.
I just realized my blog is mostly about how much I love my husband and how great he is. Sorry about it. I know that can sometimes be annoying...but it's what is on my mind most of my life...
Somewhere in my wicked, miserable past, I must have done something good.
I do not deserve my husband. At all. He is so good to me. I don't deserve him. I am just very, very blessed.
So after my 15 miles in 3 days, I have been really tired and exhausted. And I think because of it, my husband has been even more understanding than he normally is (which is pretty understanding and sweet) of my tornado-like ways. I was raised that when I walk in the door of my house, I take my stuff to my bedroom, put it away, and leave things looking nice and neat. And that's the way I've lived most of my life. But since I've been married...I usually walk in the door, drop all my stuff on the floor right there, drape my coat across the couch, and leave the room looking like a mess.
I was pretty tired this morning (Sunday), so I slept in while my husband went off to a few meetings. When he got home, I had woken up, gotten two blankets out, which were strewn across the couch, and I was in the process of cooking some things and destroying the kitchen. Without complaining, my sweet husband picked up the blankets and started folding them, went to our bedroom, fixed our bed, and when I wandered into the room, still clad in only my underwear (which is really attractive when you're pregnant and as big as a house), I found him picking up my clothes, putting them on hangers and putting them in the closet. When I comment on how nice he is, he always just says, "I just want to be helpful to you. And you know why?" And then he pauses and I say, "Because you love me." He is so helpful and he does really love me.
So after he had tidied up the house, I made lunch, got ready for church, and off we went...after church we had dinner with two really great friends, Sallie and Garrett, and then, completely stuffed, we walked (well, I waddled) the block back to our house. My cute husband had to rush off to work (he leads a process group twice a month on Sunday nights at an addiction recovery center), I stripped down to my underwear, bra, and a tank top (some things never change--my mom wrote in my journal when I was two about how I would quickly shed my clothes whenever I could), and went to lie on the couch in my favorite blanket. After a few seconds, I felt uncomfortable and stripped off the bra and tank and threw them on our loveseat and quietly fell asleep.
A couple of hours later, the missionaries rang the doorbell, so I went and got a robe and answered the door. Ty still wasn't home so I talked to them at the door for a while and then leaving my blanket on the couch, a saucer on the coffee table from bread I had eaten, and a whole bunch of other things strewn about, I went to the bedroom and climbed into bed.
About 15 minutes later, Ty came home and called for me. I answered that I was in the bedroom. So he came and climbed into bed with me and cuddled for a few minutes and then told me he wanted me to go to bed and get some sleep because he knew I was so tired. I wanted him to go to bed too, but he said he was going to go straighten up the living room (i.e. pick up my mess), clean the kitchen (i.e. unload the dishwasher and wash all the dishes I had wrecked during the day and put away all the food I left out on the counter), and then get some stuff done before he went to bed.
It was hard for me to sleep since I had already been sleeping an hour and a half, but I finally drifted off to a dreamland filled with odd nightmares (welcome to pregnancy, people). I would wake up every so often and I could see light through the outline of the door, meaning Ty was still awake and working in his office. I think I dozed off again and my guess is that he finally went to sleep at close to 11:30.
A little while later, I got out of bed to eat something and walked into an immaculate living room, spotless kitchen, AND he had started a work project I had meant to do this weekend and not gotten around to--putting stamps on 500 W-2's (apparently our town doesn't believe in those machines that stamp letters for you--UGH!). He had done over 100 (which is especially sweet considering that I'm just going to take the box back to work tomorrow, set it on the desk of my receptionist and ask her and my clerk to finish them ASAP so I can take them to the post office).
Who is this man? Not only is he this great and finds ways to serve me every day, but he really, really loves me, which he tells me all the time, and he is so affectionate to me. And he is so good. I remember the second week we were dating (I wasn't even sure yet that we were dating...) thinking about how he was the kind of man I'd always wanted to marry, he was the kind of man I knew would be a wonderful husband and father, who would love God, and take care of us...I adore him. And 8 months into our married adventure, I still have moments quite often where I think, "Married. And to Ty. How did I get to be so, so lucky?"
So after my 15 miles in 3 days, I have been really tired and exhausted. And I think because of it, my husband has been even more understanding than he normally is (which is pretty understanding and sweet) of my tornado-like ways. I was raised that when I walk in the door of my house, I take my stuff to my bedroom, put it away, and leave things looking nice and neat. And that's the way I've lived most of my life. But since I've been married...I usually walk in the door, drop all my stuff on the floor right there, drape my coat across the couch, and leave the room looking like a mess.
I was pretty tired this morning (Sunday), so I slept in while my husband went off to a few meetings. When he got home, I had woken up, gotten two blankets out, which were strewn across the couch, and I was in the process of cooking some things and destroying the kitchen. Without complaining, my sweet husband picked up the blankets and started folding them, went to our bedroom, fixed our bed, and when I wandered into the room, still clad in only my underwear (which is really attractive when you're pregnant and as big as a house), I found him picking up my clothes, putting them on hangers and putting them in the closet. When I comment on how nice he is, he always just says, "I just want to be helpful to you. And you know why?" And then he pauses and I say, "Because you love me." He is so helpful and he does really love me.
So after he had tidied up the house, I made lunch, got ready for church, and off we went...after church we had dinner with two really great friends, Sallie and Garrett, and then, completely stuffed, we walked (well, I waddled) the block back to our house. My cute husband had to rush off to work (he leads a process group twice a month on Sunday nights at an addiction recovery center), I stripped down to my underwear, bra, and a tank top (some things never change--my mom wrote in my journal when I was two about how I would quickly shed my clothes whenever I could), and went to lie on the couch in my favorite blanket. After a few seconds, I felt uncomfortable and stripped off the bra and tank and threw them on our loveseat and quietly fell asleep.
A couple of hours later, the missionaries rang the doorbell, so I went and got a robe and answered the door. Ty still wasn't home so I talked to them at the door for a while and then leaving my blanket on the couch, a saucer on the coffee table from bread I had eaten, and a whole bunch of other things strewn about, I went to the bedroom and climbed into bed.
About 15 minutes later, Ty came home and called for me. I answered that I was in the bedroom. So he came and climbed into bed with me and cuddled for a few minutes and then told me he wanted me to go to bed and get some sleep because he knew I was so tired. I wanted him to go to bed too, but he said he was going to go straighten up the living room (i.e. pick up my mess), clean the kitchen (i.e. unload the dishwasher and wash all the dishes I had wrecked during the day and put away all the food I left out on the counter), and then get some stuff done before he went to bed.
It was hard for me to sleep since I had already been sleeping an hour and a half, but I finally drifted off to a dreamland filled with odd nightmares (welcome to pregnancy, people). I would wake up every so often and I could see light through the outline of the door, meaning Ty was still awake and working in his office. I think I dozed off again and my guess is that he finally went to sleep at close to 11:30.
A little while later, I got out of bed to eat something and walked into an immaculate living room, spotless kitchen, AND he had started a work project I had meant to do this weekend and not gotten around to--putting stamps on 500 W-2's (apparently our town doesn't believe in those machines that stamp letters for you--UGH!). He had done over 100 (which is especially sweet considering that I'm just going to take the box back to work tomorrow, set it on the desk of my receptionist and ask her and my clerk to finish them ASAP so I can take them to the post office).
Who is this man? Not only is he this great and finds ways to serve me every day, but he really, really loves me, which he tells me all the time, and he is so affectionate to me. And he is so good. I remember the second week we were dating (I wasn't even sure yet that we were dating...) thinking about how he was the kind of man I'd always wanted to marry, he was the kind of man I knew would be a wonderful husband and father, who would love God, and take care of us...I adore him. And 8 months into our married adventure, I still have moments quite often where I think, "Married. And to Ty. How did I get to be so, so lucky?"
If I didn't waddle before, I do now.
So in our company of 5,000 we decided to do a fundraiser called Workout for St. Jude. We did it in a crunch, giving people about a week to disseminate information and then two weeks to do the actual fundraiser. And uh...I don't think anyone is really doing it. So about four days before the end of the two weeks, I decided to put in a desperate plea on Facebook for people to donate to my efforts. And then I made some promises--namely, that in the last three days, I would walk 5 miles a day each day. 15 miles in 3 days from the 5-months pregnant lunatic who has worked out maybe 3 or 4 times her entire pregnancy.
On day number one, I worked until 10 p.m., which is when my husband was getting home. I rushed home to spend a little bit of time with him before he went to sleep and after he was asleep, I went to the gym to do my 5 miles. Ouch. Painful. And it took me 80 minutes. I've definitely slowed down compared to pre-pregnancy. As I got off the treadmill and limped my way out of the gym to the car, I felt proud that I'd done day one.
But I have to say, one of the best parts of day one was seeing my husband's reaction as he got ready to go to bed around 11 and realized I hadn't done my 5 miles yet. It was really sweet and protective. He was very concerned that I was going to be out so late, especially after he was already asleep. But I had to do my 5 miles. I'd already committed and several friends had combined donated over $100 at this point.
On day number two, I worked until 8 p.m. We had issues at work which necessitated me staying that late on a Friday night. I was really sad because Friday is the night I get to spend with my husband, but I was exhausted too, so I went home and we lazed around the house for several hours. At which point I heard a few more lectures about the dangers of being out late at night. But my husband is a morning person and after a few minutes, he was out cold on the couch. So I got up, got dressed, and went to the gym. This night, I had to pause halfway through my workout to go buy a protein bar. Pregnancy does that to you--makes you starving at the most inopportune times. After a total of 90 minutes on the treadmill, I'd done my 5 miles and again limped home.
Day number three came. It was Saturday and I had all day to get in my workout like a normal person. I went and did two miles earlier in the day to spend a little time in the sun. It took me about 40 minutes. Then that evening, after doing some grocery shopping--and having to leave early because I was so hungry I felt nauseated--and eating dinner and hanging out, it was time for the gym. This time my husband came with me. It took me 60 minutes on the treadmill to finish my last 3 miles, but I did it! I was completely limping walking out of the gym this time, so exhausted, but my sweet husband was so supportive and really proud of me. And I think I raised $445 total (One of my friends amazingly donated $200!!!! He thought his donation was anonymous, but I guess as the fund raiser, I could see who donated.), so all in all, it was a wonderful and successful experience.
And now I REALLY waddle like a pregnant woman.
On day number one, I worked until 10 p.m., which is when my husband was getting home. I rushed home to spend a little bit of time with him before he went to sleep and after he was asleep, I went to the gym to do my 5 miles. Ouch. Painful. And it took me 80 minutes. I've definitely slowed down compared to pre-pregnancy. As I got off the treadmill and limped my way out of the gym to the car, I felt proud that I'd done day one.
But I have to say, one of the best parts of day one was seeing my husband's reaction as he got ready to go to bed around 11 and realized I hadn't done my 5 miles yet. It was really sweet and protective. He was very concerned that I was going to be out so late, especially after he was already asleep. But I had to do my 5 miles. I'd already committed and several friends had combined donated over $100 at this point.
On day number two, I worked until 8 p.m. We had issues at work which necessitated me staying that late on a Friday night. I was really sad because Friday is the night I get to spend with my husband, but I was exhausted too, so I went home and we lazed around the house for several hours. At which point I heard a few more lectures about the dangers of being out late at night. But my husband is a morning person and after a few minutes, he was out cold on the couch. So I got up, got dressed, and went to the gym. This night, I had to pause halfway through my workout to go buy a protein bar. Pregnancy does that to you--makes you starving at the most inopportune times. After a total of 90 minutes on the treadmill, I'd done my 5 miles and again limped home.
Day number three came. It was Saturday and I had all day to get in my workout like a normal person. I went and did two miles earlier in the day to spend a little time in the sun. It took me about 40 minutes. Then that evening, after doing some grocery shopping--and having to leave early because I was so hungry I felt nauseated--and eating dinner and hanging out, it was time for the gym. This time my husband came with me. It took me 60 minutes on the treadmill to finish my last 3 miles, but I did it! I was completely limping walking out of the gym this time, so exhausted, but my sweet husband was so supportive and really proud of me. And I think I raised $445 total (One of my friends amazingly donated $200!!!! He thought his donation was anonymous, but I guess as the fund raiser, I could see who donated.), so all in all, it was a wonderful and successful experience.
And now I REALLY waddle like a pregnant woman.
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