"when did she get so big?"

i've determined that the best and worst part of parenting must be watching your children grow up. i look at my daughter, who is almost nine months old, and it kills me. i hold her, and all i can think is "whatever happened to your tiny, snuggly body?" grace is not a snuggler, by any means. since she's become mobile, using that mobility is all she wants to do. granted, i love watching her grow and hitting all these milestones; crawling, sitting, cruising... eating spaghetti and zucchini and chunks of cheese... laughing and babbling... all those things are fantastic. but when did my baby get so big?

she has spunk and charm; she's shy but open and playful; she's beautiful; she's got an excellent sense of humor; she's cautious, examining, and judgmental; how can someone so small have such a personality? she likes almost everything; she hates taking big falls, but the little ones she could care less about; she prefers mommy to daddy every time, but daddy makes her laugh more than mommy. she thinks matthew is the most interesting thing on the planet, and were she allowed to play with him, she'd accidentally crush him under the weight of her love. she expresses concern when others cry; she listens intently and responds joyfully; she babbles through the full spectrum of sounds and emotions.

when did my baby get so big?

the day we found out we were pregnant again, grace and i were taking a bath together and she did something that just took my breath away --- chris ran and got the camera in time to snap a picture --- of grace resting on my belly. okay, if you know my baby, you'd know a few things: 1) bathtime is not made for snuggling, it is made for splashing and squealing in delight and 2) she just doesn't snuggle!

she was sitting between my legs when she just pulled herself up and laid down on my belly. she gave it kisses. okay, and if you know anything, it's not like i was showing at 6 weeks. i think she just knew. like, "hi baby, i'm your big sister, let's be friends and i will show you the way."

parenthood: your heart grows tenfold in size; you fluctuate between heartbreak and joy as you watch your child(ren) grow up. it kills me, but makes me.

it's the best gift i could've asked for.

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just another morning

Vote for Grace, or die. Because you know she's the cutest.

I promise that will be the only time I ever ask you to vote for my baby. I pinky swear. Okay? Forgive me. Yep, I know it's tacky and I did it anyway. Unless she's running for President or something in 35 years; then I'll tell you to vote for her. If she's anything like me, she'll be brilliant, politically incorrect, and awesome. (Ha)

But in other news... My birthday roses are basically dead, Grace is lying in her crib licking the slats (let's talk about teething babies, really), and I have to leave in 40 minutes to pick up Chris so we can go do a "walk through" with the guy who is building our house to make sure he hasn't screwed anything up? (I'm not sure KB Homes' reasoning behind this, but I guess it just is supposed to be done.)

Speaking of the house, after our meeting with this guy today, they'll drywall it. Can you believe that? Literally, a month ago, Chris and I bought the house. It's framed, wired, (we even have bathtubs), vented, plumbed, and has windows. Damn! We're pretty excited. Go, house, go!

And in case you wanted to know, this pregnancy has turned me into the gas queen. My family would say, "as if you weren't already..." but no. Nothing beats this. Yeah, sure, gross --- I blame progesterone. It's making me a stinky fart. I had hoped I would only say that when I was 85 and basically rotting, but pregnancy has caused things to change. It's true. I stink.

What else? Can I complain for twenty-five seconds because I still don't have a baby bump? Let's see. I am 17 and a half weeks, utterly impatient, pregnant with baby #2, and wondering why everyone else seems to pop way before me. I didn't start showing with Grace till about 20 weeks, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised... But it's SO unfair. It's unfair that Chris and I have both felt the baby move, but the world still has no idea that there's a bun in the oven. Mannn. Okay, I'm done.

Today is going to be a good day. I can feel it already... And gosh, do I hope I am not wrong...

One last thing before we end this; there was a kid in my sisters graduating class who just committed suicide last night. I guess he was a basketball player for our high school. He hung himself. So, pray for the repose of his soul. His name is Stephen. Also, pray for his family.

I will probably write more about teen suicide tomorrow, because it's gotten me thinking.

Peace, love, and a good day!

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"i would never do that to my body"

so, in case you've missed the memo, which it seems like everyone has heard, Jillian Michaels said something that has seemed to outrage a lot of women. she says she's planning to adopt rather than get pregnant, carry a baby, get big and fat, get stretch marks, and ruin her figure. well, good job Michaels, you shouldn't really be getting pregnant anyway as you're unmarried, bisexual, and --- are you even in a good relationship? she says that adopting is like rescuing something, and that when you rescue something, it's like rescuing a part of yourself. sure, that's a great reason to bring a child into your life: to rescue you --- mind you, an unidentified, broken part of you.

i am going to admit i might be politically incorrect... and yes, i got pregnant before marriage, but at least i was planning on marrying the guy who knocked me up. (hey look, he's my husband now, and he's done it again! ha!)

so i'm slightly unmerciful. and i don't really give a damn about her sexual orientation; really, at the heart of this, the thing that ticks me off the most is she "would never do that" to her body. as if getting pregnant is the worst thing you could possibly do. hm; i can think of a few worst things: 1) destroy your fertility, body, and health by getting STD's, 2) self mutilation and intentionally harming yourself, in whatever way - be it drugs or alcohol, 3) throwing yourself in front of a bus. all negative things. but having a baby? yeah, sure, it is a major burden on a woman's body - but for your own beautiful baby- flesh and blood, it's really not worth it? i know women who are trying to get pregnant who would probably throw a brick at you for saying that, Michaels. they'd kill to be able to do "that" to their bodies.

things that pregnancy does to your body - to name a few.
1) make you break out like a mad woman.
2) give you stretch marks.
3) make you put on hella weight.
4) if you don't exercise your kegels, you'll pee on yourself every time you sneeze (done that a few times now...)
5) that linea nigra. it's the pregnant woman's very own "happy trail" that you can't get rid of, because rather than being hair, it's the color of your skin. sure, sometimes it fades before you have another baby... but sometimes not. so much for that bikini.
6) your hair goes psycho. it can either get big and beautiful, or frizzy, or fall out. what the hell, hormones?
7) round ligament pain: you're a bitch.
8) back pain: an equally terrible bitch.
9) sore boobs. "sorry hunny, not today... or ever... again!"

basically, pregnancy does this ugly array of weird things to your body. i won't deny it.

but let's talk about the good things.
1) you grow a human person.
2) you achieve something that no man can do, EVER. ta-da for the feminists. stop trying to kill babies, having them actually makes you cooler than men.
3) some people do appreciate the increase in cup size. me, not so much, because i didn't need the twins to get any bigger... but some of you must enjoy it.
4) after nine months of trial and tribulation, you get to hold a breathing, screaming, beautiful piece of you. then you're given the responsibility to raise it, love it, and cherish it. that's awesome. really. a pain in the arse at times, but awesome, nonetheless.

basically, Jillian Michaels, i think you're forgetting something: babies are more rewarding than a kick-ass body that can't talk to you, coo at you, or grow up.

that's my story.

ps: for those of you who read that earlier post (that i deleted, yep) --- it's just proof that i shouldn't post in the morning after two bad days. ha.

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"a-ba-ba-bla"

grace is into the b's. it's making for a humorous morning, and i wish i could properly describe just how funny it is, but i can't. simply put, it sounds like my daughter is the queen of smart asses. she looks at me and says "ba-ba-ba-blah", as if saying, "mom, i'm not listening, your words are falling on deaf ears" like a teenage girl would say. you know: we would look at our mothers and mouth, "blah, blah, blah" when something was stupid or redundant or we just didn't care. and you can't say you never did that, because i don't like liars. clearly, i know that she's probably saying to me "mom, i found this new sound, it goes ba, can you please get me out of the crib now?".... but the smart assed teenage version is much more entertaining for everyone involved.

another thing. grace has figured out the growling noise and loves it. chris and i... well, it scares us a little. i mean, when your daughter sounds like emily from the exorcism of emily rose when she's in possessed-demon-mode, it's pretty... freaky. i figure it's just another sound grace has found, but i can't wait for her to get past it... which is probably why i decided to write about the newest b sound. i have high hopes that we can get past the possessed sounding growls soon enough.

in other news, i seriously hate nosebleeds. i don't even remember the last time i have had one; but chris, on the other hand... well, he gets them like a girl at U of A gets STD's. just kidding; bad comparison... but really. he gets them every week or two. or, yesterday, two in one day. now, these nosebleeds he gets: they are anything but your friendly little "oops, i picked a boogey in the wrong spot and now my nose is leaking." (yes, i just said that. this one's for you, michelle. childhood relived.) his nosebleeds start whenever; for no reason; and typically go for well over 15 minutes... like yesterday. the first nosebleed lasted 30+ minutes (i wasn't timing that one); and the second lasted a grand total of 40 minutes. chris bled for over an hour yesterday.

so why is this at all relevant to anything? it's not. it just seriously upsets me. i finally convinced him, after the second bleed had been going on for 20 minutes, to get in the car so we could go to the hospital. when we got there, it had just stopped bleeding, so we went home. he wasn't dizzy and was showing no signs that he was losing too much blood, so there wasn't much to do. he needs to go see an ENT and have them cauterize that stupid bleeder.

the actual point of this is to present a scenario i seriously hate being in: when no one thinks you're right except yourself. i feel like i'm in this boat a fair amount of the time, but last night i finally unleashed my frustrations on chris about it. as we were pulling out the driveway, i shouted at him (yeah, uh, this rarely happens) and told him that::: i did not give a damn what him or his mother thought; i was his wife, i was making the calls, and if he didn't like it, get a divorce and die from a nosebleed on his own time.

talk about laying it down. i never talk to him that way, but quite frankly, it was nice to say it. i also told him if he wanted to take his mother's advice over mine, he should've married her. maybe it was too far, but sometimes i feel like i need to say "uh, hello: you married me, not your mother." not that i don't love his mother - because i do so much - but when you take a vow to your wife, you better trust her with your life as much as you trust your mother with your life.

so that's my rant.

am i the only one out there who feels that way sometimes?

(i know i'm not, because my mother has definitely expressed the same feelings with my father occasionally.)

have a great day!

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we'll call it "day 2 of our honeymoon"

so in case you didn't know, chris and i both celebrated our 21st birthdays this week. i beat him to meeting the world by a whole three days (april 21st and april 24th). anyways, i have to admit i really enjoy our "joint birthdays" because it lends for a week of celebrations. let's see; this week we have actually had 4 birthday dinners, 3 days of gifts, and a whole lot of "happy birthday" wishes. we have bought our first drinks and bottles of wine and six packs... hah, and i am pregnant, all the while.

in case you're not counting, 17 weeks. that means, in the eyes of my spiffy maternal fetal medicine doctors, i could very well be halfway through this pregnancy.

anyhow, for our own personal "family" celebration, chris, grace, and i took off last night after he got done with work and drove about 45 minutes north to Oro Valley. we stayed at the hilton el conquistador resort, in one of their casitas. we went out to dinner and ate some fabulous steaks, went for a dip in the pool (and chris enjoyed the hot tub. my feet enjoyed it too, but that was the extent of it for me.) we drank; and by we, i mean, chris did most of the drinking and i drank a small glass of arbor mist combined with raspberry spritzy stuff. we played phase 10, did the married people thing, took a bubble bath, watched tv; basically, we had wonderful 21 year old fun.

it was fantastic.

chris and i have decided for every 6 month and 12 month wedding anniversary (his birthday was our 6 month anniversary! woo!), we'll celebrate in style and take another day to our gradually expanding "honeymoon." it's our way of affordable romantic travel. great one-nighters.

so here are a few personal favorites from the night...

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the afternoon nap

i have a confession. i am the most unsympathetic mom when it comes to getting grace to take her afternoon naps. there is no mercy... unless of course, she falls down and bonks her head on the crib... then i feel just plain terrible and swoop her up and make her giggle till kingdom come.

for grace and i, the afternoon nap is the greatest challenge, and usually involves an hour plus of back/forth tug of war style sleep attempts. it goes like this. grace rubs her eyes, yawns, and is clearly tired. clearly. so, i do what i should do: i fix her a nice warm bottle, check the diaper (because no baby likes to sleep in poop), and lay her down. her lovey, a giraffe, snuggles up by her head - and she gets covered with a blankie. this is routine. we start naptime (even bedtime) with this. always. it's how it goes.

she proceeds to drink some bottle, but then rolls off, stands up, and starts babbling. basically, she decides she doesn't want to sleep. i wait about ten minutes, (sometimes i just ignore her completely) and if she hasn't laid down, i put her back down. try, try again.

and it goes for an hour.

this is probably my least favorite part of parenthood. the afternoon nap battle. to me, this is worst than getting my nipples bitten when her little teeth first came in (OUCH).

let me tell you, once the baby can stand up in the crib, naps become a challenge. whatever happened to my little baby who couldn't even roll? i miss those days... when sleep was basically all day... easy, breezy, beautiful (like covergirl!)

now i get to deal with my daughter and her cheeky grin that says "hi mom, you can't make me sleep."

new mommies be warned!

so that's my story. we're in this middle of this session now. we started at 1:50. it's been an hour and i see no signs of her relenting.

argh!

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the tale of two bras

every woman should love bras. really. i have a few reasons.

1. you (should) wear them every day.
2. they have little personalities in and of themselves.
3. bras can help make a boring night with your husband exciting. that is, wonderful sexy frilly however-you-please-to-be-appealing, bras.
4. they can make you look younger, skinnier, and more balanced out.

a good bra is a woman's best friend. a bad bra is everyone's worst nightmare.

i have had my fair share of "alright" and just plain bad bras. i think about my first few bras in middle school, which were not an underwire and did not have an ounce of shape to them. with a C cup, you just can't pull that crap off.

today, however, it was out with the old and in the with the fabulous and NEW! i had been wearing my sisters bra, which was a 40DD; Cacique; sold by Lane Bryant. These are the bras made for women with anything larger than an apple. i have a large chest. i have been abundantly blessed. both my sisters have been also. but let me tell you - bra shopping with grapefruits to dress can be a pain the ass. Cacique is one of the only brands; actually, let's be honest - the only brand, i have found that makes bras for larger busted women that are A) not minimizers, B) not old-ladyish, and C) keeps the twins looking great. That is, if you buy the right size.

so, me, in a 40DD. well, that's a band size too big. i was adjusting myself constantly. so today i marched into Lane Bryant and looked through the bras. and guess what: i found just the right bra, and i have never felt so "secure" in it, if you know what i mean. the twins are not going anywhere. it is a 38DDD balconette bra. i feel pretty, i feel supported, and i feel a lot skinnier because now you can see my torso. hey, how 'bout that? that's what happens when the twins are three inches higher! believe in miracles, folks. properly fitting bras can work wonders.

now, i had always known that one of the main problems with women and bras was the band size. a band size that is too big can completely screw you over. (i am the perfect example. one band size smaller raised the twins three freaking inches and keeps them in place. unfathomable.) so this is my friendly reminder to get a professional fitting, and if you have larger jugs, go to Lane Bryant. their products are way cool, cute, and sexy, and they house sizes from 36C to...... I want to say 46DDD, but I'm not sure. basically, big.

ps: i know Lane Bryant does sexy. how do i know? because most of my nighttime funsies are from there. yep. ask my husband how he feels about that.

so that's my story. i walked out of the store with (ouch) $57 spent - (but hey, if they fit and i look damn fine, i'll take it) on my two new fabulous bras.

amen.
the gospel of good bras.
thanks be to God.

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