chatty

Yesterday, Belle was trying to talk to me and I was busy making her lunch.

She said, "Are you gi-noring me?!" I busted up laughing.

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Then as she laid on the couch and looked down at the floor, she proclaimed,

"Look at that cwap on the floor!" Awesome. Listen - I'm not allowed to vacuum!

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After I left her for her nap, I heard her saying, "Open my eyes? Close my eyes. Open my eyes?

Close my eyes," and "Happy birfday to me!" and

"Mom? Mom? Come 'ere Mommy. Come to the door."

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When we got in the car to go to the store, she requested, "Go to Sam's Club?"

What the? We really don't go there very often.

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Later that evening, Belle came cruising into the room on her little scoot bike and said,

"Let me look at the budget!" For real? Pretty sure that's proof that our budget

is a topic of conversation way too often.

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And then that night while I gave her a bath, she wanted her Daddy to come in.

"Daddy?! Come in here! Daddy...Daddy? Daddy. Have a question!"

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So just because we're having a new baby, she has to start talking like an adult?

I can't believe how fast her words are turning into conversations.

But I have to admit that it's usually a total crack up.

all my bags are packed

source (check this article out!)

I have a bag of Hershey's Kisses, a box of Whoppers, and a bag of

Wal Mart brand peanut butter cups in my hospital bag.

There is not, however, anything else in my hospital bag thus far.

At least I have what matters.

the final countdown

Honestly, I feel like a ticking bomb. Like everyone who looks at me is expecting me to explode - quite literally - any second.

I'm both thrilled and incredibly nervous.

Eighteen days until D-Day. But I'm already dilated (just to a one), so who knows.

For some reason, I feel like the baby's kicks are trying to tell me something now. Or maybe I just want them to. As though if I could just understand the meaning behind each kick, I could have a better idea of when to expect this baby's arrival. Last night, the baby was going crazy, as though there was room to do a little disco in there. (There's not.) I was convinced that it was trying to get out.

But alas. Still snug inside.

For now, I'm still dealing with fruit cravings out the whazoo. Funny that I'm currently obsessed with watermelon. Because it really looks like there's one stuffed up my shirt.

Let the countdown continue.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

favorite

This morning, as Annabelle drank her morning juice, I laid beside her and "nuggled a minute." When she was done, she gathered her blanket under her head and said, "I love my blanket!" I asked if it was her favorite. She replied in the affirmative, and I told her she was my favorite Midgee. Then she said, "You're my favorite mommy," and kissed my cheek.

My goodness, they don't tell you about these completely heart melting toddler moments, now do they.

Pictures taken by my extremely talented youngest sister. Yes, I've already signed her up for baby pictures and family pictures, once I can tuck my flabby belly into some high waisted mom jeans. (For more pictures by dc, check out her blog. It's fledgling, but I figure if I send you all to her blog, she'll have some extra motivation to get in gear! :) )

birthdaypalooza!

a birthday

totally random

but totally perfect in the end

a grandma and two aunties

rainbow streamers

a visit from durham friends

an outfit change

lunch at firehouse subs

(one of annabelle's faves, for real)

naps

a visit to the indoor zoo (petco) (to avoid the heat)

snowcones - and the birthday girl got her very own (for the first time)

presents (and more presents - spoiled little munchkin she is)

cupcakes

a happy birthday

for our very happy girl

p.s. when you ask her what her favorite part of her birthday was, she says, "cupcakes!"

when you ask her how old she is, she says, "twenty!"

note: any photos that look really good were taken (and edited) by my pro little sister.

two

My girl.

My little best friend.

The one who made us a family.

The one who makes our every day better, just by being.

Thank you for making us parents.

And thank you for loving us without question.

You make us more happy than anything in this world.
Happy Birthday our sweet Annabelle.
We love you more than we can ever say.

i love you!

One of the first phrases Annabelle ever learned was "I lub ewe." One day I asked, "Guess what?" as I often do. And she surprised me by taking the words out of my mouth and saying, "I lub EWE!" I didn't know I said that combination of phrases so often, but apparently I did. This was months ago, but I'm still so happy that one of her favorite things to say is "I love you." She now adds embellishments like, "I love you SO MUCH!" or "I love you MOST!" I think my favorite moments in the day are when she simply says, "Mommy? I love you." There's nothing that melts my heart more.

The last time Aunt Don Don (Danielle) was here, Annabelle saw the sign for "I love you" on her keychain. (Don Don is fluent in American Sign Language.) So Don Don attempted to teach her the sign. Of course, a toddler's fingers have a hard time obeying when some are supposed to stay up and some down, but she tried and tried. And after Don Don left, she kept trying. And just this week, she finally got it. She'll use all her energy to focus, get the fingers to do what they're supposed to, then shout, "I love you! The sign for I love you!"

I love that she knows how to say that all too important phrase in so many ways. Because really, it's a phrase that never ever gets old, no matter how she says it.

thoughts at thirty-six

1. I woke up at 4 a.m. (to tend to a sad girl and hey, while I'm up, take a pee). After she quieted down, I tried to go back to sleep but just couldn't until I had a handful of grapes. I sat in the dark devouring grapes. Apparently grapes are the new cantaloupe.

2. My little sister is expecting a baby girl in November. For months, we thought she'd have a boy and I'd have a girl. Perhaps we got it backwards?

3. I've had to tame down my already wimpy workout to save the groin/back/pelvis region. You can't imagine how ridiculous I feel dumbing down an already dumb workout. At least my arms still work.

4. Pushing a shopping cart or slinging a diaper bag is a physical form of torture. Seriously - I don't know what it is about those two activities but man the groin lets me know how awesome it is.

5. I'm so sick of whole grain toast with peanut butter.

6. I want to sleep on my stomach. I don't even like sleeping on my stomach, but I really want to now.

7. My Boo turns two on Saturday. What the heck? And tomorrow she'll move out and go to college. This blows.

8. I'm also sick of water. I didn't like it in the first place. I've been drinking a surplus of fizzy sans sugar drinks. I'm sure my doctor would have something to say about this. I'm sure I don't care at this point.

9. I have a perma pregnant waddle. And I like it. It feels better to walk like that. Seriously. The next time you have a fifteen pound balloon just chilling in your belly, try waddling. Makes the weight distribution so much easier.

10. Remember that I mentioned my eyelashes were growing back, right? And thank goodness because the success of every day is measured on how I feel about my eyelashes. (Things were looking pretty rough for a while there.) Well the new lashes are nuts. They cannot be tamed. They're like a wild bush on the end of my eyelid. Seriously cuh-ray-zee. Pluck those things out and turn a camera on 'em, and you'd have a decent reality show.

11. So I recently switched from Ajax to Comet for my cleaning needs. (Probably because it saved me two cents.) And I know this is a pregnant thing, but I seriously SERIOUSLY love this Comet potion. It's a good thing I'm hanging on to a shred of sanity, otherwise I'd be eating this stuff. Ahhhh, the smell. Cleaning toilets has never been more enjoyable.

12. I took my blood pressure last night to see if it would be assisting me in my early delivery again. No dice. Blood pressure is as low as ever. Dang thyroid meds doing their job. I suppose we'll just have to wait it out. Less than a month folks. LESS THAN A MONTH.

P.S. Taking pictures in a dimly lit bathroom of yourself (and your dirty mirror - whoa) is much harder than I thought it would be. Thus the black and white, to hide the over processing I had to do. Also, that t-shirt reads: "Go ahead. Poke me," with a picture of the Pilsbury dough boy. I feel like I need to preserve that little gem, thus the mention.

antsy

We've hit that point in the pregnancy (as I did the first go round) where I start to get ridiculously antsy wondering if the baby is a girl or a boy. Not antsy enough to actually find out, of course, but I watch the 20 week ultrasound over and over, pausing in each frame that sweeps past the bum in any way, as though I really know what to look for. I'm seriously so excited.

And I think I've hit that point where I'm actually excited for Annabelle too. (Instead of just feeling guilty that my attention will soon be split.) Brother or sister, she'll get to know the kind of love and friendship that I know with my sisters. And it's something really unlike any other relationship she'll have in her life. Vital relationships, ones that will save her repeatedly, ones that she'll be able to count on no matter what. Who else will stay up til midnight with you eating cake right off the platter? Or maybe a carton of ice cream?

I think she's actually a little excited too. She talks about the baby that is "growing up" inside Mommy and how she'll love and hug and kiss the baby. She asks me regularly if today is the day I go to the doctor to get the baby out. (Mommy go to doctor? Get baby?) I started prepping her about a month ago in the hopes that it would help her when I suddenly disappeared for two days. As it turns out, we started prepping a little too soon because she's continually wondering when I'm going to get outta here and get that baby out of me already.

And so the countdown begins. Will it be Mommy and her girls? Or will it be a Mommy and one of each.

Seriously. Dying. So excited to find out.

homemade ice cream

 Last night in the bath, Annabelle gathered the soap suds into a cup,

took a dollop with her finger, licked it, and said, "It's-a-like ice cream!"

Listen girl, if it were really like ice cream, I'd be lapping up soap suds all day.