August 2012


Aw shucks, everyone – being Freshly Pressed is pretty awesome, but getting to meet new people and check out lots of new blogs is pretty awesome-er.  Just sayin’.

Thanks to everyone who commented so sweetly on my last post.  In exchange, I will speak very sternly to the tater tot still freeloading in my uterus tonight and let him know there are a lot of people who are waiting for his arrival.

The whole internet would like you to come out now, Son!  Because everyone loves pictures of wrinkly old-man-looking newborns, duh!

We’ll see what we can do over here.  But in the meantime, thanks again my peeps!

This will probably be the last letter I write to you while you’re still baking, as I’m about a week away from your due date and I’m praying in every religion that you don’t decide to make a late appearance.  However, I must remember you ARE your father’s child, so you very well could come on your own damn time, thankyouverymuch.  Sigh.

I don’t sleep anymore and while I’ve carried you low throughout this entire pregnancy, you’ve all of a sudden gotten wise to the fact that you’ve been missing out on the precious real estate below my rib cage and have moved on up to check it out.  You’re heading in the wrong direction.  Just an FYI.

I have tried everything from walking to sex to learning to use a weed whacker to try and jar you loose, youngin’, but you seem pretty content to  prove all the wives tales false.  Your father drew the limit on letting me mow the lawn yesterday.  But that castor oil myth looks more and more tempting by the day.

These last couple weeks have been a big time of reflection for me and things are starting to finally feel a little more real.  In less than 2 weeks I will get to meet you.  It seems like yesterday I stared down at a pregnancy test with two lines and squealed loudly through our empty apartment.  Your dad was hanging out with friends and I couldn’t wait for him to get home.  I taped the pee stick to our refrigerator for him to find.  Which, looking back, might not have been the most sanitary route to go.

It’s been quite a journey ever since.  And now as I near the end I think a lot about how labor will go and how life will be with a newborn.  But most of all I think about what you’ll look like and who you will be.  Whose eyes you’ll have.  If your hair will be curly and blonde like mine or if you’ll have your dad’s darker complexion.  Will you be a little neurotic nutcase like your mom or a mellow little fellow like your dad?  Will you be a mama’s boy or will you live up to a name like Fox and be the kind of child we’re pulling off the ceiling fan and buttering his head to get it unstuck from the banisters?

I try to imagine the first moment I see you.  Will I cry?  Will your father cry?  Will my worries that you’re healthy and happy start from the moment I hold you in my arms?  Will I look at your dad and realize that we have so much love for each other that you’re our beautiful result?

I’ve gotten a little sappy on you, I know.  But I just want you to know how much you’re loved now, already.  Regardless of all the bladder pinching and rib kicking.  The acid reflux and achy hips.  You are so worth it already and I can’t wait until the day we meet and start our own beautiful journey.

Love,

Your Mom

39 Weeks Pregnant Belly

You’re huge, kiddo!

 

AKA – longest title ever.  Also?  Lamest.

I’m going on 38 weeks.  For the love of God, someone please plug in a Shop Vac already and wave it in my general nether region area.  Because I. Am. Done. with this pregnancy. DONE-ZO!  Come out, kid.  Let’s do this thang.

I can’t sleep at night.  Every conceivable ligament in my body feels like it’s been through a marathon.  I’ve upp-ed my Tums quota because 1 at a time is just not cutting the enormous power of this new-and-improved-version of acid reflux.  I’m not even sure where the acid is coming from, as it is pretty apparent my stomach is on vacation somewhere in my diaphragm.  My maternity shirts won’t even cover my entire stomach anymore, so I’m waddling through the grocery store with a sliver of fish belly poking out the bottom of my tops.  It’s so attractive, you guys.  Try not to hit on me while I’m feeling the tomatoes.

Breathe in…breathe out.

Bitch fest in…bitch fest out.

Ok, that’s over.  Now to talk about the fun stuff.  The nursery is done.  And it’s gorgeous and cozy and comfortable and you can find me there most nights, rocking my own self to sleep on the little glider while listening to his sound machine.  I’m a dork.  But here are some pictures to help you forget my dorkiness!

Nursery Window Seat

Nursery Window Seat

Changing Table Area

ABC Menagerie

These images came from a sweet little book called ABC Menagerie. Tony and I wanted something a little different from the cutesy wall art, and after scouring Etsy and not finding what I wanted, I was flipping through one of his baby books and came across these images. They’re perfect for what we were looking for!

The oppussum gets me every time.  Doesn’t he look like he’s up to no good?

ABC Menagerie Photos

More of the same. Please note the fox in the middle. We couldn’t resist!

Fox Nursery Mobile

Helllllo fox mobile from Etsy!
(Pssst! Click on the picture to be linked to the listing on Etsy…you know…in case you want to copy my truly amazing style or something…no big deal)

Inside Crib

There will be a baby in this crib soon. If one of you would man-up and help me with the Shop Vac, damnit!

Nursery Glider

Nursery Bookshelf

That cool glow at the top left corner is a rock/salt lamp we received as a wedding gift, because, if you know me, I love me some gemstones and rocks! It works amazing as a nightlight!

Nursery Suncatcher

Like I said above…I love me some rocks! Unfortunately, because I couldn’t wait to to take pictures until daytime, you can’t get the same, beautiful effect of the sun shining through these suncatchers, but…you get the idea

Cloth Diaper Covers

Holy Toledo cloth diapers are cute! And because we didn’t completely lose our marbles, we do have some disposable diapers stocked too. Just in case. Don’t go calling the hippie police, though.

Nursery-ed out, yet?  Wanna place bets on how long the pristine-look of this nursery will last?

So now that THAT’S done…we can have a baby, right?  Maybe now isn’t the best time to talk about how our bathroom remodel isn’t quite finished.  Yeah.  We’ll save that for another post…