Toddlerhood

Linc is officially a toddler. Our boy is 18 months old, and boy is he independent! My mom has renamed him "Mr. No No." A most fitting moniker as everything is now answered with a mournful "no,no,no!" Always three times, always in a slightly exasperated/surprised tone. Here is a typical conversation, "Linky, mommy is going to change your diaper." Linc responds, "No,no,no!" As he runs from the room. This is also the response I get to "please sit down", "try your veggies", and even, "do you want to share my yogurt?" He typically hits me with the triple no to this one as he's digging into my fro-yo.

While we get lots of no-nos and sudden "I refuse to walk because I *must* sit in the neighbor's yard and rip out their grass by the handfuls" we also get soooo many giggles, kisses, and "momeeee" and "dadeeees". I swear he literally grows over night, both physically and mentally and emotionally. A few of his latest tricks and stats:

• Linc turned 18 months on September 23. He is 35 inches, 32 lbs, and wears a size 8 shoe. And those are already getting snug on him. He's my giant lovebug.
• He looooves to point out body parts. Particularly my pregnant tummy, and usually when we're out in public. Never satisfied with just pulling my shirt up, he also then tries to wrestle my "tummy panel" down. Good thing motherhood has stripped me of all modesty.
• Linc is super keen on "helping" me with chores...he brushes my hair, open wipes and cleans the kitchen table, and lives for stuffing clothes in the drier and getting to press the power button. He also takes his job of getting the mail each day very seriously.
• Speaking of things the Bear takes seriously - dude loves to march. He lifts those knees up and does a high knee shuffle that would make any band director weep.
• JBB and I are amazed each day at what random new word/animal sound he has picked up. Yesterday it was "happy", after listening to a little Pharrell. Watching your toddler roam around and mutter "happeee" to himself will snap you out of a funk in a hurry.
• Reading is the one thing we can get Linc to do where he will sit still for up to twenty minutes at a time. It is hands down my favorite part of our morning. Each day after breakfast, we sit in the play room and work our way through a stack of books. Current faves include "Planes Go" and "Diggers Go" by Steve Light, "Paddington Goes to Market", and of course, "Little Blue Truck."

I could literally write a book about all the little "Linc-isms" that make our boy Linc. But I won't, partly because I'm typing this on my IPad, and well, I'm tired of hunting and pecking. Suffice to say, like all parents,we're madly in love with our baby (he'll *always* be a baby to me) and we just continue to be amazed at him. At his ability to laugh so hard he hiccups, at the way he will sprint across the room to get to his stuffed animals and give them a hug, at the way he pats my hand and brings it up to his face. All those "no, no, nos" are more than made up for with the full tackle hugs, post-nap snuggles, and gleeful "Momeeees!" 

Mommy loves you Linky Lou. More than you'll ever know.

A Year End Review - by the Numbers

So...it's been a while. As in, the last time I blogged Linc was 11 weeks old! And now he's walking. Whoops! It's weird, I just don't quite have the time for this like I used to. Huh. Wonder why that is.

I've been wanting to write a blog to commemorate Linc turning one, and I've stopped and started 100 times, but nothing was coming out quite how I wanted it to. It's kind of impossible to put into words the mountain of feelings, milestones, emotions, and just stuff that has happened since having Linc. There have been huge, life-changing things like resigning from my job, and other, subtler things that are just as important in their own ways, like the first roll, the first dada, and the first sleeping through the night.

Rather than try to capture everything (because who wants to read that besides maybe my mom and Jason's mom?) I've decided to hit some of the highlights of the first year...

A Year in Numbers...

3.23.13 - the day that Lincoln Lambert Blythe was born. At 8:10 pm, to be precise. I honestly can't remember my life without him, yet at the same time, it seems like yesterday.

1 - the number of times Linc has been out of the country. Our little traveler went on the annual Lambert Family vacation to northern Ontario at the ripe old age of 3.5 months. He was a champ! 0 - the number of fish he caught. Slay 'em this year, Linc!

What a difference a year makes!

14 - the number of consecutive hours he rode in the car (one-way) to get to the great north. Aside from the impromptu picnic in the Burger King "lawn", it was a very uneventful car ride.

4 - the number of nights I've spent away from Linc. Thanks to JBB for pushing me to go on girls' trips - Nashville, Chicago, and Brown County - it was fun! Until we meet again...

31 - Linc's height in inches at his 12 month well-baby visit. That's 10 inches taller than he was at birth!

4.5 million - approximate number of trips we have made to Target.

139.50 - speaking of Target...the amount in dollars I have saved since downloading their Cartwheel app in August. I don't know if I should be proud of or ashamed of that fact.

3 - how many double ear infections Linc has had in the past year. One more and he'd have had tubes. Knock on wood, he seems to have outgrown them!

30 - number of nights that we had to do breathing treatments to clear up Linc's bronchial infection. To quote JBB, "Oh Lord, that was horrible."

7 - Linc's age in weeks when he went to his first Gymboree class. Best decision we ever made - the friendships Linc and I have made through Gymboree have made this first year infinitely better! Between Christmas, Halloween and Valentine's Day parties, to play dates at the parks, everything has been more fun with buddies! For mama and Linc.

1 - the number of haircuts I've had since Linc's birth. My hair is sorely neglected these days. 0 - the number of haircuts Linc has had. JBB and I are going to be those parents who don't cut their kids hair forever, and it's going to be all wild and curled up around his ears.

95 - the percentile in which Linc falls for weight. He came out weighing 8 lb 10 oz, and is now 26 lbs 14 oz. My arms have never been more sore.

Oh yes, I'm a' walkin'!!

2 - number of times we've gone "fruit-picking" in the past year. Strawberry pickin' in Noblesville and apple pickin' in Michigan.

1 - the number of times Linc has pooped in the tub. Also the number of panic attacks I've had since his birth. (One didn't cause the other, but I can see why you'd think that!) :)

1 - number of minivans that now sits in our driveway!

50 - the number of Honda Odyssey minivans in the parking lot of the library on any given day.

3 - number of silver Honda Odyssey minivans in the extended Lambert family. Krissi, Steph and I roll in style.

3 - number of words in Linc's repertoire. "Dada", "Mama", and "baba".

7:30 - the time that Linc goes to bed each night.

4:00 - 7:30 pm - my favorite hours of the day. JBB gets home from work, and our little family of three packs a lot into those three hours. Park, dinner, books, dance party, and snuggle time in bed.

5 - the number of movies I've seen in the last year. 25 - the number of movies I saw a year pre-Linc.

20 - the number of family and friends who celebrated Lincoln turning 1. Such a happy day surrounded by my favorite people!

5(w) - the size of Linc's chubby little Fred Flinstone feet.

3 - the number of smash cakes JBB and I made in preparation for Linc's birthday party.

1 - the number of times a month I hereby vow to update this blog!

Happy birthday, Bubby!!

Thanks for stopping by!

Life with a 15 pound 11 week old...

Our smiley baby boy...

It's official. We have a baby; our guy is no longer a newborn. He does baby things like coo, splash in the bathtub, and try to shove his entire fist in his mouth. It blows my mind that Linc is almost three months old - it literally seems like last week that we were in the hospital meeting our boy. Everyone always says a baby changes your life in more ways than you could ever imagine - they were right. Below, I present an array of ways that LLB has changed my life...

1.) Mealtime is not what it used to be. As I'm sure all parents do, JBB and I have become quite adept at eating one-handed, as the other hand rapidly pats Linc's diapered bottom, trying to stave off the nightly 6:30 pm meltdown. We've also become used to eating at least 50% of our meals cold. And fast. I, also, have become the person I hate. The woman who says, "I got so busy I just forgot to eat." Never in my pre-baby life did I get so busy I forgot to eat. I could have been in the middle of launching a rocket into outer-space, and I'd pause for a Lean Cuisine. Now, I frequently get to 2:00 pm, just as Linc and I've snuggled on the couch for our nap, and I realize I haven't eaten anything since a Fiber One bar at 8:30 am. You'd think I'd be a wraith, yet, I'm not. Harrumph.

2.) In the first month or so of Linc's life, before I was comfortable taking him too many places outside of family's houses, Linc and I watched a lot of daytime TV. We kicked our TV smorgasbord off with "Good Morning America," followed up by "Live with Kelly and Michael!" (love me some Michael...), then we'd watch "The Price is Right," roll into E!'s afternoon mini-marathon of "Sex and the City", which took us right up until "Ellen". Oh Ellen. How I love you; and you, DJ Tony; and wacky producer, Andy; and "Kevin the Cashier, played by Adaaaam!". (Can you tell I am an Ellen devotee?) You'd think with all of this TV watching I would be caught up on all of my shows. Yet somehow, I'm not. I DVR a zillion shows, ranging from "Polygamy in the USA", to "The Next Food Network Star," to "So You Think You Can Dance?", yet I feel like I never really pay attention to what I'm watching.

I always fire up the DVR when Linc is asleep, yet I'm not quite tired enough to sleep, and not quite awake enough to read. Ten minutes in, Linc's binky falls out, so I pop it back in. Five minutes later, he stirs, so I readjust his blankie and snuggle him a little closer. And then he wakes up five minutes after that, so we decide to do tummy time, and so it goes. If someone could fill me in on the life of my dancing polygamist chef, I'd appreciate it. (One exception - "The Bachelorette" gets my full and undivided attention. Monday at 9:00 pm, the TV is mine. Pretty sure it was in JBB and I's wedding vows - to honor in sickness, and health, and in trashy reality TV.)

3.) Now that Linky Lou is old enough to grip things, he's given me a forced style makeover. Not that I've ever been a fashion maven, but pre-Linc, I loved wearing big ol' earrings, and crazy costume jewelry necklaces. My philosophy was that jeans and a plain t-shirt could look great with dangly earrings or a long dramatic necklace. The first time Linc nearly ripped my earlobe in two, the earrings were replaced with little heart studs from Target. Shortly after that, he attempted to strangle me with my necklace, so my long, multi-stranded beads were gone. And, after losing two baby fistfuls of hair, it's all ponytail, all the time. No complaints on that one, as drying and doing my hair suddenly feels like an accomplishment on par with finishing a marathon, or completing a PhD in neuroscience.

4.) POOP!!!!! That is the exact text message I sent JBB on Friday afternoon while he was at work. Our little rascal hadn't pooped since Tuesday afternoon, and we'd been wringing our hands since Wednesday morning. Every diaper change was met with a breathless, "Did he poop??" followed by a sad little, "No...just pee." With every toot (and believe me, there were LOTS) I'd get so excited, sure that this was it. By Friday at noon, I called the pediatrician and was instructed to give Linc two ounces of just water to "loosen things up." Loosen things up it did. Maybe my favorite part of the Great Poop of 2013 - JBB's return text said, "Great!!! Can't wait to call and hear about it." I love it when he talks dirty.

Linky trying on Lady Liberty's
hat at Target this morning...

5.) I now execute running errands with military precision. There's no more spur of the moment Target trips; don't get me wrong, there are MANY trips to Target. Just not spontaneous ones. First, I feed Linc. Then, I change him. Then, after being thrown up on while running errands, I now wait 20 minutes post-bottle before setting out. Once all the plumbing matters have been seen to, I get Linc locked and loaded, gather up my diaper bag and reusable grocery bags, and we're off.

Once at Target, I drive around until I find a spot right
next to a cart corral. After nearly breaking my arm from carrying Linc in his punkin' seat all the way into the store, I figured out that mom-trick in a hurry. Linc is hoisted into the cart, my reusable bags are clipped onto the side with the carabiner I keep on my diaper bag, and my diaper bag is stashed on the bottom of the cart. By this point, Linc is asleep and I'm exhausted, so our first stop is for a Coke and popcorn; then we set sail to buy the five items that I can tuck around the sides of his seat. And then we do it all over again two days later.

What ways did your baby change your life? Am I the only one that finds going to the Target or the grocery so darned hard? And are there any good daytime shoes I'm missing??

Just a boy and his cow...

Linc's Arrival, Part 2

Well, one month later, I've finally found the time and energy to update my blog. I've almost started a hundred times, but then it's time to change a diaper, play pat-a-cake, go for a walk because it's not raining, snuggle on the couch because it is raining, or make a bottle. And I wouldn't have it any other way! (Fun fact - this is my third attempt at this blog in two days. Currently, Linc is catnapping, so I'm listening to a little Shaggy and trying to pound out a few paragraphs).

Let's see, where did I leave off in my last blog? Oh yes - JBB and I were picking up the contents of my suitcase that we spilled all over the hospital parking lot. After collecting all of my clothes and toiletries (99% of which I never even took out of my suitcase) we made our way into the hospital and took the elevator to the 3rd floor. For some reason, we were extremely worried about the check-in process...would we go to the right place? Would I have to fill out a ton of paperwork again? Would they know we were coming? Turns out, our worry was for nothing. We got off on the labor and delivery floor, picked up the phone, and we were escorted to our "triage" room in about a minute flat.

From there, most of the day was a blur. They did a test to make sure my water had broken - it most definitely had, as I am apparently one of the few women whose water gushes like you see in the movies. No trickle for me. Go big or go home, said my uterus! (Talking uteruses. You never know what you'll find here). After we knew that we were in it for the long haul and wouldn't be sent home, we called our parents to let them know. My mom and dad were at the hospital by 10:00 am (yay to mom for pre-packing a bag!), followed shortly by JBB's dad, his sister, my brother, sister-in-law, their 3 kids, and my brother-in-law and baby. You might be wondering...where were JBB's mom and my sister? Well, as luck would have it, it was Spring Break. My water broke at the exact time my sister was stepping on a plane for the Bahamas, and JBB's mom was in Florida. Linc surprised everyone by being two weeks early! As you might imagine, these two weren't real happy to miss the big day. I think I spent the first 3 hours of labor texting my sister; I finally had to hang it up (literally) when things started kicking into high gear.

The first 4 hours or so were pretty anti-climatic. I got my epidural, which was nowhere near as scary as I'd built it up in my head to be. Our parents came in to chat; mom brought me the latest magazines; JBB and I rented a movie that we half-watched while I tried to sleep; I played Words with Friends, texted my friends, and tried to rest somehow. I finally gave up on that idea; as much as the nurses told me to sleep, I was too keyed up to even pretend to rest. (Speaking of nurses - the staff at the St. Vincent Carmel hospital was AMAZING. Every one of them. I hold a special place in my heart for Mamie, who was our main nurse when we checked in and during most of my hard labor. When she went off duty I started crying as if you'd told me someone ran over my puppy. I hugged Mamie with all I had as she was leaving, and made her promise to come back tomorrow to meet the baby. And she did, bless her heart).

So, as I said, we were admitted at 7:00 am; fast forward to 4:50 pm, and I was fully dilated - go time! Up until this point, I was in minimal pain. I was 4.5 cm dilated when I got to the hospital and hadn't felt a thing. Silly me thought this was how the whole labor would go. I was wrong. My contractions decided to come in the form of back labor, which was damned near unbearable. Between vomiting repeatedly from the pain, turning my epidural up to fight the back spasms, turning it down because I was too numb to push, to screaming, "I can't do this anymore," JBB and I were in for a wild ride for the next 3 hours and 20 minutes. Our poor family was pacing in the waiting room, my nieces and nephews were chanting "We want Cookie!", my sister-in-law was lurking by the nurses's station to hear any news, and my poor sister and mother-in-law were trying to stay up-to-date from vacation. Finally, at 8:10 pm, our beautiful, perfect, exquisite baby boy entered the world to one tired, overjoyed mama and ecstatic daddy. The feeling was truly unlike anything I've ever experienced in my life. It almost seems wrong to try and put into words what JBB and I were feeling; I'll never be able to express the rush of emotions - sheer joy, fear, and fierce, fierce love. 

JBB and I's life changed forever at 8:10 pm on March 23rd, 2013. Immediately before Linc was born, the doctor asked, "Last chance - boy or girl?", and I shouted, "It's a BOY!" Call it a mother's intuition at the 11th hour - about 1 second after my shout, JBB cried/yelled "A baby boy!!", and I heard the strangest sound - a wail, snort, laugh all rolled into one. And then I realized it was me making that noise.  I was overcome with the sense that suddenly, simultaneously, the world had become infinitely more beautiful, yet more terrifying at the same time. I never, ever want our Lincoln to know heartache, or fear, or sadness. Realistically, I know he will, but JBB and I will be doing our best to counter that by giving him joy, and lightness, and a happy place to call home. We will do anything for him; after all, he is us, and we are him, and that is mind boggling.

Our boy, fresh out of the oven.

JBB giving Linc his first bath.

Love at first sight.

7 weeks in, and I think JBB and I have the hang of this thing called parenthood. We've learned a few lessons along the way. Such as, don't feed your baby a full bottle and then strap him in the Bjorn for some shopping unless you want to have baby spit up pool inside your bra and down the front of your shirt. (I learned that; JBB doesn't wear a bra when he shops. Ha ha). We've learned to not change a poopy diaper at the first sniff of poop, as inevitably there's more to come. Best to let him simmer for awhile. Family and friends, already important to us, became even more so after Linc's arrival. The support and love we've received from our parents, siblings, friends, and co-workers is truly humbling. From my parents, sister and sister-in-law coming down every day for the first week that JBB went back to work because I was scared to be alone, to JBB's parents coming up each weekend so we had time to run to the grocery, to Emily and Zach babysitting on a Sunday so we could see a movie, to JBB's co-worker giving us two trash bags worth of clothes, to our friends Jen, Katie, Jill, and Russ and Kelli sending us dinner, we have been amazingly spoiled. My brother showed up one night in the early weeks with a full blown barbecue complete with fruit salad, hot dogs, my favorite orange pop, and 3 of the cutest kids you've ever seen, who were on the best behavior. We won't forget how amazing everyone has been, and we can't wait to pay it forward. 

One lesson I'm still trying to learn, and will probably always be learning, is to not worry so much. I worry,is he eating enough, or is he eating too much? Am I stimulating him enough, or should I give him some quiet time to just relax? Does he know how much I love him? These mommy worries are constantly running through my head, but I'm working as hard as I can to kick them out and just enjoy Linc exactly as he is, which is perfect, at this moment. We've started taking an afternoon nap on the couch, with him curled up like a bean on my chest, snuggled under a cozy blanket. In these moments, while I listen to his heavy breathing and feel his sweet baby breath on my cheek, my worries and feelings of inadequacy disappear, and the only thought running through my head is love. Love for Linc, and for this life that I've somehow stumbled my way into.

Bringing home our baby boy...

Linc's Arrival, Part 1

As I type this, our Cookie, who we were so sure was a girl, is sleeping peacefully beside me in his swing (which kind of looks like a spaceship). It's amazing how much life changes in a matter of hours. For JBB and I, 14 hours and 10 minutes, to be exact.

Saturday, March 23 at 8:10 pm, our perfect baby boy, Lincoln Lambert Blythe, entered the world, and I can't remember a time he wasn't the center of our life. Linc is truly our dreams and our love personified. He is healthy, and big and pink and has the sweetest, faintest little eyebrows, and long skinny feet, and his daddy's mouth, and little dark hair on the back of his head, and the most amazing blue gray eyes you've ever seen. In short, he is perfect. And he is OURS! We will work the rest of our lives to live up to the honor of being his parents. He is my purpose in life, and I hope to God I don't fail him.

The Wednesday night before Linc's birth found JBB and I at the ER at Carmel St. Vincent, the same hospital our OB is at and where we would be delivering. All day Wednesday, my right foot and ankle was swelling bigger and bigger; and not just the normal "end of the day" swollen ankles. By about 8:00 Wednesday night, it was the size of a loaf of bread. The weird thing is it, it was only my right foot. Although we had just had a check up the day before and my blood pressure was fine, I was worried about pre-eclampsia so we called the "after hours" line to talk to one of the doctors on call. Because of a history of blood clots in my family, they had JBB and I come to the ER for a deep vein thrombosis ultrasound to rule out a clot. We got to the ER at 9:00 exactly; we arrived home at 12:45 am, very relieved to know there was no blood clot. Just a strangely swollen foot, most likely caused by how Linc was laying in utero. Since the doctor didn't put me on any bed rest, I decided to go to work on Thursday; something in my mind kept telling me Linc would come early and I didn't want to waste any of my days off that could be spent with him. So, Thursday and Friday I worked all day, never feeling a contraction or anything other than the run of the mill 38 week pregnancy discomfort. JBB and I drove to Tipton Thursday night and took my grandpa cupcakes for his 91st birthday and spent the evening with him, listening to stories, checking out his boats, and eating cupcakes. Friday night we had a follow up with the doctor to checking the swelling, which was gone at that point. She did the normal measuring and checking, and we had no indication how our life would change in less than a day.

Friday night was supposed to our "last hurrah" date night, which I was so excited for. JBB and I had big plans to see the movie "Admission" and eat at Outback (one of our faves) using one of my many coupons. I even saved $50 of my precious tax refund to buy a cute new maternity outfit, as I was very sick of wearing gray leggings with black sweaters. I hit Target and bought the cutest pair of pistachio jeans capris, a bright purple top, and new sandals. I was ready to rock for our last date as a family of two. Mother Nature had other plans, however, in the form of an impending snowstorm, and an impending baby. By the time I got home from work Friday night, I was so tired I was in tears, telling JBB I didn't think I could stay up for dinner AND a movie, and besides, it was too cold to wear my new outfit anyway, so what was the point? (I was a little dramatic.) True to form, JBB saved the day, and we had a "date night in", complete with Hot Box breadsticks, cookies and ice cream, and NCAA basketball. For some reason, I was very clingy that night and wanted to spend every second with JBB; normally Friday nights I would get in bed about 8:30 and watch my shows while he puttered downstairs, watched ESPN, and then would come up a few hours later. Friday night I think JBB sensed I wanted to be with him all night, so after watching two basketball games together, we climbed in bed where JBB very gamely watched two episodes of Project Runway with me. We went to bed at 11:00 pm, with plans to eat pancakes at Bub's Breakfast Cafe on Saturday morning, and then see a matinee on Sunday. We were going to spread out "date night" into "date weekend."

Linc had other plans; date weekend was going to become baby weekend! I got back from a 5:45 am bathroom break only to lay down and feel like I had to go to the bathroom all over again. I very grumpily told JBB, "I have to get up again and I just went". Turns out I didn't know quite how much I was about to "go." At 6:00 am on the button, my water broke, and there was NO doubting what had happened. No trickle for me - without getting too gory, this was a gush that went through my pjs, the sheets, the mattress pad, and the mattress. JBB and I stared at each other for a few seconds, started shaking, and called the doctor as instructed. We were told that I had time to shower, eat, and then head to the hospital. The next hour was a surreal 60 minutes - I showered, dried and flattened my hair while JBB ran around gathering up cell phones, Ipads, chargers, magazines, etc. At one point I heard him cussing from the bathroom; he was so nervous and his hands were shaking so badly he couldn't even get his contacts in. I was strangely calm, asking JBB to swiffer the bathroom floor so it would be clean when we got home, and taking pictures of us together so we'd have a "before baby" picture. At 6:45 I sat down to have a big bowl of Captain Crunch, only to find out our milk was spoiled; of course. So, I had dry cereal, a Sprite, and a roll. JBB threw our dirty bedding into the washing machine (he takes his role as laundry chief very seriously) and we were on our way. Our very excited, scared to death way.

At ten till 7:00, JBB and I drove to the hospital. The CD we made to play during our wedding reception happened to be in my car, so I played John Fogerty's "Joy of My Life" and "Thinking About Your" by Trisha Yearwood on the way to the hospital, which got me crying all over again, just anticipating the love we'd feel for our baby. Our baby who was actively on his or her way. We pulled up in the parking lot, and as JBB grabbed my suitcase out of the backseat, it spilled over the concrete. We'd forgotten to zip it; at this point we looked at each other and just started laughing. And then we headed into the hospital, ready to meet our baby. Which we did, 13 hours later.

And I'll get to that in our next blog, as said baby is looking so cute beside me in his swing that I'm going to break the cardinal rule and pick up a sleeping baby, because I want to hold him, and I'm his mom, and I can.

Part 2: Our two week early 8lb 10 oz love muffin is here!!

Waiting on Linc...

And we wait...

A wise man (Tom Petty) once said, "the waiting is the hardest part." To which I would like to say, preach it Mr. Petty! While I feel like most of this pregnancy has flown by, what with getting married, settling into a new house, going on our honeymoon, the holidays, yada, yada, yada, the last few weeks have crawled by. And I need them to sprint by. (Let me clarify - I won't be sprinting anywhere. Just need the weeks to.)

We are 37 weeks tomorrow, and I have recently become consumed with knowing if I'm harboring a boy or girl Cookie. I've made it 259 days in a very zen, "it's going to be the ultimate surprise" mindset, but now, damn it, I. WANT. TO. KNOW!!!! Twice this week on the way to work I have flat out started crying imagining the moments after Cookie is born and they place him or her on my chest and we can finally see that sweet little face. JBB wrote a little message to Cooks in the baby book, and I sobbed. I think he was a little alarmed by my reaction. (In my defense, it really was very sweet. And I really was very tired).

Doctor appointments are weekly now, which I'm actually excited about. That means every week someone a whole lot smarter and better qualified than me is checking on my baby and making sure everything is how it should be. We got the all clear with our last ultrasound and blood work that whatever antibodies I may or may not have floating around aren't hurting Cookie in anyway, so I can permanently cross that worry off my list.

Speaking of crossing things off the list - a momentous thing happened last night in the Blythe household. I went to "my office" (the a fore blogged about roll top desk. I'd love to tell you all about it. I'm obsessed with it.) and consulted my to-do list, which for the last 9 months has had at least 20 items on it. It had two. Two things left to do. And they are both things JBB needs to do, not me. I'm not sure how I feel about this. While I thought I'd be swinging from the treetops with excitement, I felt a little deflated and a sense of "now what?" I've got to have something to do these last three weeks!

In typical me fashion, I've found new things to fixate on - namely, trolling Tiny Prints for baby announcements (I currently have 43 favorited. Someone stop me.), and - couponing! I've turned into a real couponer these days. Nothing excites me more than cutting coupons from the Sunday paper; I've joined Coupons.com, and Marsh.com and Kroger.com and whatever else I can find online that will give me .25 cents off toilet paper. (Pregnant women use a LOT of toilet paper). I even found myself reading aloud to JBB from an article on Pinterest about how to be a savvy couponer. Who have I become? In addition to my obsession with couponing, I've started making weekly meal plans. Which, every week have the same meals on them - tacos; breakfast for dinner; spaghetti; chicken and potatoes; pizza. I'm not terribly creative, but sometimes I get fancy and switch up the order, or the seasoning for the potatoes if I'm feeling wacky. I've "pinned" approximately 250 recipes on Pinterest, but somehow eat the same 5 meals every week.

In addition to turning into some weird 1950's hybrid version of myself, I'm also in a phase of trying to meet up for lunch or dinner with as many of our friends as possible before the baby comes, partially to keep busy, and partially because I know I will drop out of the "social scene" for awhile. While I love seeing my friends, I've become aware of not over scheduling and ending up with something booked 6 nights a week, as all that does is exhaust me.

Until recently, I had a lot of events at work that kept my focus off of the impending arrival - I worked the first two Saturdays in March, had a Family Fun Night, and various other meetings to focus on and lots of loose ends to wrap up. Even all of that is winding down, as I'm transitioning everything at work over to my replacement so that everything is transfered over and in good shape when I leave. Driving home from last Saturday's 10K event was a very, very strange feeling - typically March is when I really start mentally gearing myself up for the crazy 2.5 months ahead that is "season" at the 500 Festival. Instead, I was driving home from my last event until 2014. Strange.

Speaking of things winding down, we even had our last baby shower over the weekend - hats off to Steph, Krissi, and Nicole for an amazing shower! The thought and love that went into it knocked my socks off - from the "Baby Pictionary", to the "blue Kool-Aid if you think it's a boy" and "Pink Lemonade if you think it's a girl" drinks, to the amazing food and decor, it was incredible. JBB and I are continually humbled by the love and interest our family and friends have shown our baby. It was truly an amazing day. In fact, an amazing weekend, that I was so happy to spend with Nicole who drove all the way from Wisconsin just to be there for the shower. We did a lot of eating, watching HGTV, and just catching up. Cookie even put on a show for her Aunt Nicole, moving her big foot all over my stomach just to show off and say hi.

Celebrating our little rascal to be. Such a fun shower!

Think girl? Grab a pink lemonade!

Sure it's a boy? Have a blue Kool-aid.

Two of my very favorite ladies!

Look closely...JBB and I's picture is on these M&Ms. Funniest thing ever!

Love this picture! Can't believe Aunt Lisa and Ali drove all the way from Michigan to celebrate Cookie. Love you guys!

Steph wouldn't stand still for a picture until after the party was over. Truly the hostess with the mostess!

Cookie decorated her door for her Aunt Nicole's arrival!

So. That's it. We're just waiting. JBB and I are spending a lot of time together just the two of us; we have a "date" to see the new Tina Fey/Paul Rudd movie Admission next weekend and go out to dinner. I figure that might be our last hurrah for awhile. I didn't think it was possible to love JBB more, but as I watch him prepare for Cookie's arrival, and experience every day how achingly sweet and patient he is with me as he listens to me vent, makes dinner for us without ever complaining, and helps me out of bed when my back hurts too much to stand up, I do indeed love him more. Waiting for JBB was the best thing I ever did.

Celebrating "National Pie Day" at Shapiros!

The Moose is Loose

You might be wondering about the title of this blog. Let me explain - I am the moose. As for "the moose is loose" - well, when my family would go skiing every year, there was a shop named just that, and for some reason it popped in my head today and I thought it was funny. So there you go. JBB doesn't like it when I call myself a moose, but hey, I call 'em like I see 'em, and when I look in the mirror, I see a moose. A very happy, tired, expectant moose.

I remember a time in the not so distant past when I would wake up, go to the mirror and examine my stomach to see if I "looked pregnant." I'd ambush JBB when I got home from work, and ask him the same thing, sticking my belly out as far as it could go. He'd study my profile and say, "Maybe a little Bertie", or "not today." HA! How naive I was. I mean, logically I knew I would eventually look pregnant, but it just seemed like that day would never come. Well, I'm here to tell you blog readers, it has come. Oh how it has come.

I'm 33.5 weeks as I write this blog. Over the weekend, I wore the same outfit three days in a row. Black Old Navy maternity leggings, a long gray comfy sweatshirt/tunic maternity top from the Gap, and my Uggs. JBB eventually made me throw it in the hamper when it was starting to get up and walk to the fridge for a snack by itself. I've reached the point where the only pants that are comfy are either leggings or those with the full belly panel , aka, big girl pants. Those little half panels are for sissies, I've decided. They dig into my stomach, and I picture Cookie inside there saying, "Hey mom, I'm squished in here." Similarly, a lot of my tops are getting snug now too, but I'm stubborn and don't want to buy new maternity shirts when I'm less than seven weeks from my due date. Hence wearing the same outfit three days in a row.

Another thing I've embraced in the home stretch: dry shampoo! This might seem like an odd side effect of pregnancy, but it has been a godsend. I have a very hard time falling asleep at night, and inevitably get settled and sleep the soundest in the few hours before I'm supposed to wake up. As a result, I often end up sleeping late and forgoing a morning shower so I can snooze for fifteen more minutes. In the past, I could never do this because my hair is so greasy that if I don't wash it in the morning you can scramble an egg on my head by noon. Well, someone suggested dry shampoo, and I haven't looked back! I use the Victoria's Secret brand, and I love it! My hair honestly looks just as good (some days better) than when I wash it fresh that morning. I know there will be many days with a newborn where I don't get around to showering, so my follicles and I are thrilled to have discovered dry shampoo. (Victoria didn't even pay me for this advertisement).

Other moose-like things happening around our house - I can't take my boots off by myself. Bending all the way over, maneuvering around my belly, and tugging them off is just too much effort for Cookie and I. Enter JBB to save the day! I feel like while on the whole I'm very glad to be pregnant in the winter, there are some possible advantages to a summer baby. It would be miserable to be in the final stages of pregnancy in hot weather, but you could at least throw on a sundress and flip flops every morning and call it day. Although, you'd also have to shave your legs more than once every two months, so that's a definite minus.

I also no longer feel comfortable wearing my wedding bands. Most days they fit fine, but sometimes when I go to pull them off at night, they are awfully snug, and I would be distraught if they got stuck and had to be cut off. So, they're staying put for now in my nightstand. I contemplated wearing them around a necklace, but was worried if the chain broke I would lose them. I have followed the lead of my friend Jill, who bought the biggest, showiest fake diamond ring she could find when she was pregnant with her daughter. Monday night I picked up a big ol' sparkler from Target; go big or go home, right? It has gotten several compliments, which cracks me up.

A few other things to note - my skin - it does not glow while pregnant. It does the opposite of glow, whatever that is. (Grimace? Glower?) If you don't believe me, I'll show you my passport picture, sans makeup. I look like I should show up on the 6:00 news as the latest Hoosier to be busted for cooking meth. It's terrifying. So, while my skin doesn't glow, my toenails GROW. And grow. And grow. And, you guessed it - there's no way in hell I'm contorting myself to cut them. Even I won't ask JBB to do that for me; instead, I view it as a nice excuse to get regular pedicures. My piggies have never looked so nice or felt so loved. (All the ladies at the nail salon think I'm having a boy, FYI.)

JBB would like me to let you all in on his million dollar, Shark Tank worthy idea - "Adult Pregnancy Bibs!" It doesn't matter what I eat, or how many napkins/towels/drop cloths I put on the front of me - I manage to get at least a fourth of my meal down the front of me. My belly is a magnet for food and water. JBB can't keep up with the laundry I generate. I also have a bad habit of eating in bed, so a lot of my dinner/breakfasts/snacks end up in the bed. It's a good thing I have a patient husband! We recently created a "bib drawer" for Cooks in the kitchen...I think mama's bibs need their own drawer too!

On the "baby prep" front, we are basically done. We have two more classes to go, and one more shower, but the baby could come tomorrow and we'd be okay. We have our pediatrician, we are pre-registered at the hospital, and we have car seats, crib, stroller, bassinet, and swing. With the exception of packing our overnight bags and installing our car seats, we are ready! Every night when JBB and I peek in the nursery, we look at each other and say, "All that's missing is the baby..." JBB has "read" several of the books to Cookie that we got at the shower. So far, we think "Where's Spot?" is her favorite, as that elicited the most wiggles. So, there you have it. Just some of the more fun side effects of the 3rd trimester. And I wouldn't trade it for the world. Every time I feel Cookie move (which is a lot) I fall in love all over again. I'd go through 1,000 3rd trimesters for one baby.