Back to School

Happy holidays from the Belly and I- 26 weeks big.

Cookie and I are writing this blog with a belly full of Outback Steakhouse, courtesy of a gift card from my  mom. (Thanks Muggy!) JBB and I have been having a great break - Christmas Eve was spent in Tipton, Christmas Day in Seymour, and yesterday was spent being happily snowed in. We went for a walk around the neighborhood, played three games of gin, cleaned out two hall closets, and got a good nap in. At dinner tonight, we talked about how lucky we are to be able to celebrate our Christmas with both sets of parents, all of our siblings, our niece and nephews, and my grandpa. There is truly nothing better. We look forward to this time every year. Now that it is passed, and we are both off work until next Wednesday, we are looking forward to next year. (Not, I should clarify, to going back to work). As we wait to ring in 2013, JBB and I, like thousands of other Americans, have signed up for classes for the "spring semester" - that's right, we're going back to school!! Baby School, that is.

At our first appointment, we were given a list of recommended baby classes that would help us "prepare" for Baby Blythe's arrival. Being the type-A personality that I am, I've been chomping at the bit to sign us up for these classes, but every time I went online to register, we were still too early. Even in my "get it done" state of mind, I realized it wasn't smart to take "Preparing for Childbirth" in December, when my due date isn't until April. I can't remember what I ate for lunch yesterday, so I sure as heck can't be expected to remember the finer points of labor and delivery 3.5 months in advance.

Finally, this week, I was able to register us for our classes. We are now the proud students-to-be of "Preparation for Childbirth," taking place three Monday nights in February. (Confession - can we talk about how I considered not taking this class once I realized it would be the same time as the new season of The Bachelor? I need to talk to the schedulers at this joint). We will also be taking "Breastfeeding Basics" in January, and I still need to sign us up for "Newborn Basics" and "Infant and Child CPR." We are also set to meet with Trish at Monogram Maternity to view the maternity suites and "formalize" my birth plan. Which will look something like this - get Cookie out safely, by whatever means necessary. Period. And someone please bring me unheated up Subway as soon as this baby is out!! (Italian Herb bread, ham and turkey, extra oregano. Thanks.)

Scrolling through the classes online, I had flashbacks to IU when I would finally get my paws on the schedule for the upcoming semester of classes - I'd spend a good three hours planning my schedule, my roommates'  schedules, the pizza delivery guy's schedule, and anyone else I could con into forking over their class requirements to me. I'd even make myself Plan B and Plan C class lists, where I'd plan alternate schedules - one typically revolved around not missing any of my shows, no small task in the pre-DVR days (how I miss you Dawson's Creek, Felicity, and Party of Five), and one typically centered on never having a class before 10:30 am or on Fridays. If I could have majored in class scheduling, I would have. Alas, scheduling for Baby U was not quite as flexible - classes are either Saturday morning (barf!) or Monday nights, from 6:00 - 9:00. You already know my beef with Monday nights, but class until 9:00?? Don't they know that pregnant women in their third trimester (especially first time moms who don't have toddlers to chase around, bathe, feed, and water) are in bed at 9:00 pm? Or maybe that's just me.

Regardless, I'm excited for these classes. I'm sure a lot of it will go out the window in the heat of the moment, and JBB and I will adapt on the fly and do whatever needs to be done, and whatever feels right for Cookie. Still, it feels like a rite of passage, and one in which I'm excited to partake. I'm also hoping to get the inside scoop on clipping those itty-bitty fingernails, how to care for the umbilical cord stump (this seriously has me flummoxed) and how to effectively use one of the those snot-sucker bulbs. I'll try to repress my inner geek and not take too many notes. I'm already anticipating the "discussions" that will arise over where to sit - I'll want to sit front and center in the front row (former teacher's pet), while JBB will want to be in the back, wisecracking with the other dads. Mom and Dad, we apologize in advance for any notes sent home from the teacher over our behavior. We've got our pencils sharpened and our trapper keepers bought - bring on the blue book tests!

Cookie's furniture, painstaking redone by JBB.
Just waiting for the hardware and they'll be done.

On the baby growing front, things are perking right along. Tomorrow we start 26 weeks; I can't believe I'm in my 3rd trimester! My belly button is pretty much gone, and is going to pop soon, I fear. I can't see my feet without leaning over and searching for them. I find I'm moving a little slower and having a little trouble getting the forward momentum needed to get out of bed. But certainly no complaints - I've heard too many war stories to quibble about a popped belly button or needing a push to get into a sitting position. Knock on wood this last trimester is as uneventful as the first two.

Cookie's crib, generously given to us by a friend.
Just need the mattress and bedding!

The nursery is coming along - Cook's furniture is painted, her fabric for the curtains has been purchased! (polka dots! yay!), and JBB is finishing the windows. We hope to have the nursery done by February. My first baby shower is January 16 at work - I can't wait! I'm so excited for these last 14 weeks. If you haven't already, pop over to the poll on the right side of the page and vote if you think Cookie is a boy or a girl. JBB and I think girl, but most of our family thinks boy. As my very wise dad says, "You've got a 50/50 chance." :)

Happy New Year's a few days early! Wish JBB and I luck as we head back to school!

Happy Holidays with a heavy heart....

This blog is written with a heavy heart as I, like everyone else, try to understand the violence that occurred in Connecticut on Friday. It is simply incomprehensible; as an expectant mother, an aunt to four beautiful little kids, the sister, daughter, and daughter-in-law of 4 educators,  and simply a fellow human being, my heart breaks every time I think about what happened, hear about it on the news, or see a picture of one of the people who lost their lives so senselessly. I don't know what the answer is to prevent another tragedy like this; I certainly think stricter gun control is called for, as is more understanding, discussion, and treatment of mental illness. I pray hard that our country never experiences another event like this, and my child never has to be scared to go to school, the movie theater, or the mall. If I could keep her safe inside of me forever, I happily would.

The sweetest face in my world.

As JBB and I talked this weekend and tried to understand what happened, there were a couple of things that stood out to us. Life is short, and sometimes damned unfair. We don't ever, ever want to regret not saying, "I love you," or look back and think, "I wish I'd have spent more time with my family, or told my friends what they mean to me." We were both raised in families who aren't afraid to say "I love you," and to say it often. My brother, sister, and I are 36, 34, and 32 years old, and I don't think a phone call or face to face meeting has ever occurred between any of the three of us that didn't end with an "I love you." My brother's two older kids, who are 5 and 7, demand a hug and a kiss every time we part, and I happily oblige, smothering them with kisses. JBB and I hope to instill that openness and affection in Cookie - tell the people you love you love them. Don't assume they know it, or are sick of hearing it. Even if you're frustrated with them, or ready to hang up the phone, or your mind is somewhere else. Tell them.

We also talked a lot this weekend about not living in fear and always looking over our shoulders waiting for the next tragedy to occur. That is my instinct as a worrier. I want to draw the shades, lock the doors, and live in a safe bubble in my house. But as JBB reminds me, that is not living. And that would not be fair to our children. We'll be smart, not put ourselves in dangerous situations, and we'll exercise caution, and I'll probably hover too much, but we'll live our lives. We'll still go on vacations, take our kids to the movies, and teach our kids about all of the good that happens in this world. We'll show them through our example how great it feels to help others, and we'll hope they'll carry that spirit through into adult hood.



So nice to see the smiling faces of
family and friend's holiday cards in the mailbox each day.

With that mindset, we continued with our plans for what was supposed to be a very festive, holiday-filled weekend. Friday night I hosted our 4th Annual Girls Holiday party, where myself and nine friends ate too much food and listened to holiday music as we wrapped presents for the girls in need who we "adopted" this season. Everyone was a bit subdued, but after being inundated with such sadness all day it felt really, really good to be actively participating in something good - injecting some positive karma back into the universe, no matter how small. These two little girls, age 7 and 9, will have a heck of a good time unwrapping Christmas presents next Tuesday morning as they open new pink and purple polka dot bedspreads, glittery tops, girly DVDs, new art kits, their own Target gift cards, and a whole arsenal of lip gloss, nail polish, and sparkly picture frames. All topped with pink and purple bows picked out especially for them. My friends have hearts as big as Texas, and I love them.

Cookie and I exchanging gifts with Grampy.
How awesome is that bow?

Saturday, JBB and I made the 25 minute drive to Tipton where we exchanged Christmas presents with my grandpa. For those of you who have never met my grandpa, picture the sweetest man in the world. Then double that sweetness. Now you have an idea of what my grampy is like. Exchanging gifts with him was enough to make my heart happy for the rest of the afternoon. How lucky I am to still not only have my grandpa in my life, but to have him only a 25 minute drive away. And I'm so lucky to have a husband with the patience of a saint who loves to make the trip with me. Family is everything to me, and these visits with my grandpa remind me of that. He and my grandma were married for 69 years, and the love between them was fierce and unflappable. JBB and I should be so lucky.

Sunday was spent with Cookie's "Auntie Jen" who was in town from Chicago - we made a smorgasbord of Christmas cookies, ate too much Pizza Express (we just can't make the switch and call it Hot Box Pizza) and just caught up. I was again reminded of how important it is to make the effort to stay in touch with friends. The older you get the harder it is - jobs get busier, husbands, kids, and life starts to take up more and more time, and it's easy to put off that phone call and say you'll reach out next week. I'm going to redouble my efforts to keep in touch with my friends. They're in my life for a reason, and I don't want to lose them.


Jen and I hard at work icing our masterpieces.

Some updates on Cookie: we had a doctor's appointment last week and it went great! We had a second ultrasound, as Cookie didn't cooperate last time and they weren't able to get a clear shot of all four chambers of the heart. This time they were able to see and capture that image, as well as tell us that Cookie weighs 1 pounds and 10 ounces - 75th percentile! It appears our little shug has long legs and a big belly. Just like her mama, minus the long legs part. :) I'm still feeling great - starting to experience heartburn and moving a little slower, but no complaints! I'm in my 24th week, which means I'm starting my 6th month, which just doesn't seem possible.

I'll end my rambling; I hope this blog didn't sound preachy or sanctimonious. That is not my intent. Happy holidays to everyone; whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or nothing at all this season - tell the people you love you love them; call your college roommate you've been meaning to catch up with for the last 6 months; listen to your grandparent's stories of when they were young, regardless of how many times you've heard them; buy the donuts for the car in line behind you at Dunkin' Donuts. While nothing can ever, ever make up for the weekend's events, maybe we could all do something good to help a stranger, a family member or a friend, in memory of the lives lost.

Happy Birthday to JBB!

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS SAPPY AND CORNY. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. 

Happy birthday to JBB, Happy Birthday to JBB, Happy Birthday dear JBB (and Daddy!), Happy Birthday to you!!

Cookie and I can't put into words (especially Cookie - she can't talk yet...) how much we LOVE JBB/Daddy. (Is it too soon for me to start calling JBB "Daddy?" He likes to call me "Mother" when he wants to get my goat. I told him we've got at least 10 years ahead of us before we start doing that...)

Back story: two and a half years ago, I was pretty sure I'd die alone, maybe with cats (which I really don't like). I'd been on literally dozens of bad blind dates, dabbled in speed dating, and considered the nunnery, but I'm not Catholic and I didn't think the habit would look good with my chubby cheeks. Then ol' JBB kicked things up a notch, and suddenly things were looking brighter. He could have proposed to me on our first date and I would have said "yes!" When you know, you know, and I knew.

Fast forward 2.5 years, and we are married and expecting Cookie. I am truly, truly lucky and try to never forget it.

In honor of JBB's big day, Cookie and I have compiled a Top 10 list of things we love about JBB, aka Blythe, aka the Silver Fox, aka Jake, aka Daddy...

JBB hard at work on the window project.

10.) My new nursery windows! Now Cookie will be warm and cozy while she slumbers. In exchange for the windows, she promises to begin sleeping through the night and changing her own diaper by 6 weeks. She'll be washing her own onsies by 12 months.
9.) That JBB has taken over dinner making duties! Never have I been so happy to walk through the door and see a taco bar laid out, or a fresh pot of spaghetti. Post Cookie, I promise to make dinner 5 nights a week; okay, maybe 4...okay, I'm blatantly lying. I couldn't even finish typing it without laughing.
8.) Speaking of laughing - JBB's laugh! While I don't like the shows Happy Endings or Big Bang Theory, I love listening to him belly laugh from two rooms away while watching those shows. No demure chuckle for JBB - when he laughs, he laughs whole hog. Nothing makes me happier than when something I say or do elicits a guffaw from JBB. I imagine Cookie smiles inside when she hears her daddy laugh so happily.
7.) JBB's calmness and "we'll take care of it" attitude. While I whip myself up into a lather worrying about finding a daycare, a pediatrician, too high blood pressure, ultrasounds and a million other things, he never fails to calm me down, assure me that whatever it is, it will get done, and it will be fine. And, so far, it has always gotten done and it has always been fine.


Umm...hello..this is Patches, this is Patches...

6.) The alter egos, Spotty, Patches and Wizzo - I like to pretend they're for Cookie, but let's be honest, we both know that I'm their intended audience. Their voicemails and daily shenanigans can pull me out of a funk faster than anything.

5.) Cookie really loves Sunday mornings when JBB surprises us with freshly made cinnamon rolls in bed. She does a little dance after that sugary goodness hits her system. (She's wondering what Daddy's doing this Sunday morning?? :)
4.) JBB's handiness around the house - I had no idea, before we embarked on home ownership, how handy JBB is! Need to install a new ceiling fan? No problem! Rewire the sockets and change the plate covers? Piece of cake. Swap out the "fart fan" in the bathroom (his name for it, not mine)...well, still working on that one. 2 out of 3 isn't bad.
3.) Cookie loves her daddy's patience - she knows how badly he wants to feel her kick and dance around, but she's just not quite strong enough yet for JBB to feel it. He'll sit for 10 minutes with his hand on my belly, just hoping to feel one flutter. She says give her about another month, and she'll make it worth the wait.


That is a face that is up to no good...

2.) JBB's ornery side. While I might act exasperated and put out when he scares me so badly coming out of the bathroom at the movie theater that I throw my popcorn in the air, or when he wraps me up into a straight jacket in the comforter and sheets because "I looked cold," or when JBB turns my car seat heater on full blast in 100 degree July weather, I actually really love it. It keeps things fun and keeps me laughing. (Cookie requests that you don't start jumping out of dark corners and scaring her until she's potty-trained.)
1.) And the number one thing Cookie and I love about JBB is, well, JBB. Everything about him. Our little family-to-be, the care he's taking in readying the nursery for Cookie, the twinkle in his eye, the way he meets me in the driveway after work to help carry in the 5 bags I always seem to schlep around, how crazy into Colts games he gets, his "pep talk voicemails" during the month of May, how sweet he is when we visit my grandpa, and a million more things!

Happy birthday JBB!

Honey/Baby Moon

Happy belated Turkey Day, turkeys!! JBB, Cookie, and I recently returned from the warm cocoon of Jamaica. And what a return it was - we left the resort in 85 degrees weather and returned to a frigid 22 degrees in Indy. As we caught the shuttle, we were definitely rethinking the flip flops and shorts/capris we wore on the plane. B-R-R...Brrr!, as my grandma used to say. :)

Cookie and I resting at the airport in Montego Bay
as we waited for our shuttle.

While we hated missing Thanksgiving with our families, the trip was AMAZING. We stayed at an all-inclusive, which I had never done before, and let me tell you, it was the way to go! I've never been so relaxed in my life. JBB marveled at how my "brain turned off" while I was down there and we just relaxed for 8 days. Between the two of us, we read 12 books, countless magazines, drank a boat load of non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiris (me), Red Stripe beer (JBB), and ate a ridiculous amount of peanut butter cookies and ice cream from the French pastry shop that is conveniently open 12 hours a day.

I have to say, when I realized I would be pregnant on my honeymoon, a tiny part of me was disappointed, as it wasn't quite how I'd imagine spending my honeymoon. Not that I resented Cookie McGee for one second, I just wished the timing would have played out a little differently. I was wrong. Being pregnant on a beach vacation was awesome, for various reasons.

1. Now that I've discovered the utter freedom that comes with wearing a bikini while 5 months pregnant, I may never wear one non-preggers again. I didn't give a second thought to wondering if my stomach was sticking out...it is supposed to stick out! Glorious.

JBB and I on the beach waiting for one of the beautiful Jamaican sunsets.

2. Napping is not only tolerated, it is encouraged. The two days I didn't go in for my afternoon siesta from 2:00 - 3:00, JBB was worried about me. Cookie and I went in for the hottest hour of the day and slept in the air conditioning like our lives depended on it. We pulled the black-out blinds tight and and sawed some serious logs before heading out for more wallering on the beach.

3. Cookie put on her dancing shoes! I'm sure it was just the timing of the trip and my pregnancy, but Cookie really started to make his/her presence known on this trip. She loved when mama drank fruit smoothies - I'm guessing the sugar from the fruit really got her excited, because she would just dance around afterwards like nobody's business. I loved feeling all those movements as the day went along. She was definitely most active at night, just as JBB and I were winding down. (I use the term "night" loosely. It was a rare occasion we weren't in bed by 8:00 pm.) The area where her hiney is wedged is where I felt the most movement, so I couldn't get the song "Rumpshaker" (Wrecks in Effects shout out!) out of my head as she gyrated around. Here's hoping she has better rhythm than I do!

4. The food!! Similar to item #1, when one is 5 months pregnant, you don't worry quite so much about overloading at the buffet. That's not to say I went bananas, but I certainly helped myself to the breakfast buffet and took full advantage of the dessert shop. The great thing here was, the portions were pretty small, so you felt like you were going wild, when in fact you were eating a pretty small meal. It's just that it seemed like it was free, which made it taste all the sweeter! I'm a pretty (okay, majorly) picky eater, so I actually didn't try a lot of the more "exotic" fare. Pancakes and a fresh smoothie for breakfast with whatever the potato of the morning was, and then I usually laid pretty low for lunch and dinner and tried to sniff out either pizza, a burger, or grilled chicken. JBB, on the other hand, was a real foodie. He ate baby octopus in chili sauce (Cookie was NOT happy about that), calamari, shrimp, and all other creatures of the sea. That actually still looked like sea creatures. Eek!

5. Our honeymoon was, in effect, a "babymoon", which is something JBB and I otherwise never would have indulged in. Right before we left, I realized this was the first time we'd ever been on vacation just the two of us (with the exception of a few overnight trips to Chicago, Louisville, etc.) It was so, so wonderful to spend so much time with just JBB. We ate every meal together, swam in the ocean ever afternoon, got a couples massage, played gin almost every night in our room, and even dabbled in ping-pong and checkers. Those 8 days will be the last time it's just the two of us for a long time, and we both made the most of it, although we spent a big chunk of our time talking and dreaming about our little Blythe.

In short, it was the perfect trip. The traveling it took to get there - not so great. Let's just say we both saw our life flash before our eyes several times as we careened down dirt roads (literally) to get to our destination. Poor JBB was green around the gills. The 14+ hours of travel time home was a rude shock, but the fact that we had seats 3 rows up from the floor at the IU/BSU basketball game the night we returned eased the pain. Cookie already loves her Hoosiers!!

Happy Thanksgiving to all from the Blythe family!

Our second to last night in paradise!

Isn't She (or He!) Lovely...!

Today was a big day for the Blythe family - we got to see our little Cookie on the big-screen! It was our "halfway-to-baby" ultrasound appointment, and boy were we excited! It was also the day we could have found out the gender of our little rascal, but we both stood firm that we do not want to know. I was afraid the temptation would be too great for me once we were in the actual ultrasound appointment, but to my surprise, it actually solidified both of our decisions that we don't want to know.

Our appointment was today (Monday morning) at 8:30 am; I always like to make them as early in the week, and as early in the day, as possible. Although everything has gone swimmingly so far (knock on wood!) I always get a little anxious before our appointments, so the sooner the better. Plus, I was so excited about this appointment that I just knew I didn't want to wait all week! One of the things that is so nice about our doctor and hospital is that Carmel St. Vincent's is literally 5 minutes from our house - I clocked it this morning. After getting stuck in traffic before the first appointment and having to run into the room one step ahead of the doctor, JBB has made a point of leaving a little early from work. He's been in the parking lot before me for the last two appointments; what a good dad. For whatever reason, I feel the urge to look nice for these meetings, so I always take a little extra time with my hair and outfit. Don't ask me why; it's not like Cookie can see me or the doctor is going to care. Up until it got so cold (seriously...SNOW!?) I also took care to pick the lightest weight articles of work-appropriate clothing I owned. I'm starting to get over that; so far the scales have been kind to me, but I'm sure that will go out the window soon, and that's fine with me.

So...enough of the build-up and on to the good stuff...drum roll please...JBB and I introduce to you Baby Blythe, aka Cookie, aka the subject of 90% of our conversations...

JBB says Cookie has inherited my large noggin. I told him to look in the mirror...his isn't exactly small! Look at that Buddah belly on our little shoog!

This one just kills me because of how clear a shot it is of the arm. I love that Cookie is curled up in such a snugly position in there. Snug as a bug.


Don't worry - these are the only two shots I'll share, as I realize without the guidance and explanation of our amazing ultrasound wizard, they look a bit "vague". :) I do think it's incredible how the head and face actually look like a skull - you can even see the eye sockets and nose. (Side note - baby's nose was deemed "perfect".  You may or may not know this, but I'm convinced I have a perfect nose. It's my one vanity. The nose will live for another generation. Thank heavens. :))

A few highlights of the appointment:
1.) Most importantly, everything looked just like it was supposed to, was measuring normally, and there were no red flags. I've never been so glad to hear the world "normal" repeated so many times.
2.) Baby B is currently in the breech position, but we were told that is nothing to worry about at this stage in the game, as he or she will flip and flop around countless more times. We don't start worrying about baby being breech until around 34 weeks.
3.) Cookie waved to us. Honest to goodness. She moved her little hand away from her mouth and that little hand danced back and forth across the screen. I waved right back at her. She (he??) also got busted on camera dancing on my bladder - caught red-handed  (or is it red-footed?)!
4.) Maybe the funniest thing - we could see the baby's mouth opening and shutting multiple times throughout the appointment. This was cracking both of us up, but JBB thought it was especially funny. Based on that alone, he has changed his prediction and decided this baby is a girl who is a talker, just like her mama. (We also saw her bladder get bigger throughout the appointment - some of that "talking" was her practicing drinking whatever it is that floats around in there with her).

So, that's the news from the babyfront for this week. We've both been floating on Cloud 9 for the rest of the day. We bought a baby book last week, and I can't wait to update it with this milestone.

PS - if any of you are especially adept at reading ultrasounds and have somehow figured out from the above snapshots what this baby is, for the love of God, please don't tell us!!!

PPS - thanks so much to all of the veterans in our lives and happy Veterans Day. I'm so happy knowing Cookie will grow up in a country where she has the freedom to live as she wants, practice her own beliefs, and can vote as her heart dictates, without fear or censorship. I think it's important to remember after all of the sniping, fighting, and mudslinging of the past month, this is still a great country, and the place where I want my children to grow up.

Sleep...I miss sleep....

Something you should know about me: when I was in high school and college, I was an Olympic-worthy sleeper. And we're talking gold medal caliber, not just that I made the team. I could easily sleep until 11:00 am, and often until noon. My bedroom was on the side of the house that stayed dark latest into the day, and it was right above the vent, so it was always either nice and chilly in the summer, or warm and cozy in the winter. Prime sleeping conditions. It didn't hurt that my mom also enabled me, reminding my family to be quiet, as "Po is sleeping!" Never mind that I'd been doing so for the last 10+ hours and it was nearly lunchtime. When I would finally waltz into the kitchen, my dad would always ask me, "Did it hurt?" (Meaning did it hurt when I woke up. A variation of what he'd ask when we fell of our bikes - "Is the sidewalk hurt?") Getting me to wake up in time for school was nothing short of a miracle. My dad would come in and wake me up on his way to the hospital; my alarm would bleep at me; my high school boyfriend would call me; finally, my mom would drag me out and I'd stumble into the shower. Post-college, when I lived in Broad Ripple with Emily, she told me several times she actually felt sorry for me because I looked like I was in physical pain in the morning as I zombie-walked to the shower. So - you get the idea. Sleep and I go together like peanut butter and jelly. We used to be best friends.

Cookie and I starting week 18.

Well. As you might imagine, now that we're kicking off Week 18 of incubating our Cookie, sleep doesn't come quite so readily. Sleep is something I think about a lot these days. Mainly, how to get a better, uninterrupted night of it. Between getting up to go to the bathroom, back aches, and trying to not sleep on my back or right side, a quality night's sleep has begun to elude us here at the Blythe house.

I am usually in bed by 8:30 with a book or magazines; I try to be off of all devices by 9:00, and lights out by 9:30. Pre-Cookie I would sleep straight through until 6:45 am. Those are days I remember fondly. Now, there are the bathroom trips; always the bathroom trips. If you've been reading my previous posts, I drink about a gallon of water in an attempt to wash the pre-natal down quickly. Strike number one. I go to the bathroom right before I fall asleep but I inevitably have to get up at least twice a night, regardless of how I try to time things. And it's rare that I fall straight back to sleep after getting up. When this happens, I want JBB to know. If I can't sleep, it's only fair he can't. This baby is half his, after all. Last week, when I couldn't sleep, I dramatically sighed, harrumphed, and floundered about in an attempt wake him up. I'm not proud of this. As he continued to sleep like a log, I indignantly sat up, poked him, and announced in a strident voice, "JBB!! I can't sleep." "Okay," he said, as he continued to sleep while rubbing my head at the same time. I begrudgingly laid there, jealous of his sleeping prowess. He apparently doesn't have the same issues I do. He also pops out of bed at the first tinkling sound of his alarm and skips into the shower. He doesn't even know how to work his snooze button. He is a magical sleep unicorn.

Then there is the act of trying to sleep on the left side of my body, which is apparently the way you're supposed to sleep once you're past 4 months. I sent JBB my "Gerber weekly email update" with this information in it, and came home that very night to find our nightstands and pillows switched so that I could still sleep on my left side and be the little spoon at the same time. (Have I mentioned how sweet my husband is?) Apparently, I am not a natural left-sider. I always end up rolling over in my sleep; JBB then rolls me back over, and this goes on throughout the night. He says he's going to make me a kick-stand; until that kick-stand arrives, we've added a new addition to our bed. Bill the Pill(ow). Mom and I picked up the body pillow at Target, thinking it would help with my back. It's main purpose has turned out to serve as the Berlin wall between JBB and I, and act as my "kick-stand" to keep me from rolling over. (JBB also says it serves as a great toot guard. Too much information? I can't help it. I'm pregnant. Side effect). The pillow is giant, and I typically end up throwing it on the floor in the middle of the night, and then almost trip on it during one of my many trips to the loo.

The other man in my life. Bill the Pill(ow).

As you can see, the nights aren't the most restful. I can't wait until the leg cramps kick in. And here is the kicker - I always seem to fall asleep the hardest and soundest about 5:30 am - just in time to have to wake up in 90 minutes. Grr!!! On the bright side, I guess I can view this as preparation for when Cookie comes - I know we won't be getting any sleep then! Might as well get used to it. And dream of those 12 hour nights.

All snuggled in for a good night's sleep.

Signing off...I'm sleepy.

A picture is worth a thousand words...and a good laugh!

Cookie is 15.5 weeks today, and sends a hello! She (he?) is being a very good baby and I feel the best I've felt since before I got pregnant. I think JBB is happy to have his wife back, and to hand over some of the dinner and household chores. (Laundry is still all his, by the way.) We are slowly plodding through our to-do list - we've both gotten our flu shots, we have a car seat and base, crib, bassinet, stroller, baby bath tub and awesome diaper bag! (Thanks Whale of a Sale and assorted family and friends!) Next up: finding a pediatrician and signing up for baby classes.

Before I share some HILARIOUS pictures of Cookie's parent's misspent and fashion challenged youths, a note from JBB:

Unexpected items for the expectant Father while expecting:

Yesterday Bertie aka Po aka Lindsay and I had our third doctor’s appointment. Everything went very smoothly and Cookie is still baking away. Still a little doughy, just needs a few more months in the oven. While waiting in the room for the doctor to come in, I decided to take a look around the little room and I found the cheat sheet wheel-thing they use to determine important dates during the pregnancy. So using my great doctor skills I've learned from watching House, MASH, and the Doctor Oz Show, I have unequivocally, without a doubt, estimated the size of Cookie right now. Cookie is now 60lb and 12 inches long!! Granted a little bigger than we were hoping and appears to be a little short, but I’m confident that I can work a circle cheat sheet wheel-thing and I stand by my results.  Bertie has zero trepidation of birthing a person the size of a loaf of bread made of lead. What a person!! That is why I love her. jbb

Digging into the photo vaults:
If Cookie is a boy, I hope he gets his daddy's good looks:

How could anyone have ever gotten mad at that sweet face??

And if Cookie is a girl, maybe she'll look like her mama:

Hey everybody! What's up? 

Either way, I hope he or she has better vision than the parents:

Attack of the face-eating glasses!!

Self-tinting? Nope - just bitchin' glasses...

 And, here's hoping our kid has better fashion sense than we did:

Check out that mullet! (Bonus points for matching senior prom date Missy Owen's outfit).

Side ponies never go out of style!

 Cookie, we can't wait to meet you...finish up baking in there and we'll be ready!

Save some time to dream...

I have always been a bit of a wild dreamer - and I mean that literally, not figuratively. As in I have the most bizarre, life-like dreams that always take a second to shake as I wake up. I have to remind myself that I'm not in fact on the set of Real Housewives of Miami while Andy Cohen talks to my stomach. (Had that one last night after reading his memoir before bed. I was kind of sad that it was just a dream because how AWESOME would that be?)

Now that I'm pregnant, those dreams have gotten even crazier, and, more frequent. JBB probably hears "I've got to tell you about the dream I had last night!" almost as much as he hears, "What do you want to do for dinner?" For whatever reason, he NEVER remembers his dreams. I'm convinced he just doesn't have them. The ONE dream he remembers is that we were in the hospital and I delivered Cookie and she was a girl... when he told me this I started to place a lot of stock in the dream, thinking it must be a sign since he never dreams. Until he told me in that same dream, Cookie was born at 33.5 inches. Hearing that, my womb shivered in terror and said "That's hogwash, never dream again!"

Anyway...all of this intense dreaming has gotten me to thinking about what dreams I have for Cookie. As a parent-to-be, it's hard to not daydream. At the risk of sounding like a loon, I already have a first birthday party theme in mind for a boy and for a girl. I am, after all, the same person who produced a wedding invitation list the morning after JBB proposed. I like to plan!

Some of my dreams are lofty, and some are not quite so grand. I hope, above all, that Cookie is a strong, healthy baby who grows into a kind, loving adult. I hope that she makes this world a better place by being a part of it. It doesn't have to be anything earthshaking; sure, I'd love her to cure cancer, but I'd also love her to smile at strangers (but not take any candy from them!) , hold the door for the person behind her, and sometimes over tip just because. I hope that Cookie is happy, and knows true contentment. I hope that she has a contagious laugh that comes freely and often and without any reservation. I hope she finds something she LOVES to do - whether it's playing sports (that will come from her daddy!), or reading books, or traveling the globe. Whatever it is, I hope it fills her with excitement and happiness and a feeling of complete joy. I hope she has her daddy's pretty blue eyes, and if Cookie happens to be a boy, I hope he inherits his daddy's silver hair. (Heck, I hope a girl inherits that - how beautiful would that hair be on a woman!?) I hope that she loves to swim and will spend countless hours in the pool playing Marco Polo and Sharks and Minnows with her cousins. I hope that he worries less than his mama, and understands that there are things he can't control, so just let them go. I hope he has his daddy's complete lack of judgement of others. I hope he loves to snuggle, and says I love you without hesitation, and never gets too old or cool for bear hugs. I hope that she is able to stand up for herself, and for what is right. To not laugh along with other kids at the expense of someone else. I hope she'll always defend the underdog, and never, ever have a sense of entitlement. I hope that she is so darned excited on Christmas Eve that she can't sleep and blasts into our rooms at 6:00 am, ready to see what Santa has in store for her. I hope that she loves family vacations with the same fervor that I do, at the age of 31 years old. I hope that he or she finds someone to love and to love her as ferociously as I do her dad, and he does me.

I could go on forever. (Don't worry, I won't). It's just so incredible to think that in less than six months a little person is coming our way and we are responsible for shaping it's life; I don't want to mess up, and I don't ever want to unknowingly thwart a dream or crush a sensitive little soul. (Lord knows if it's half mine, it will be sensitive. Ask my mom about how I reacted to the time she asked me to "rest my mouth." I sobbed. For hours. I can still remember where I sat in the dining room, facing the wall, in shock my mom didn't want to hear another one of my many insights.) So, upon retrospect, I also hope Cookie isn't as sensitive as I am; perhaps skin a few inches thicker than mine would be a good thing!

And...on a lighter note...I've got taking the pre-natals down. Standing up and taking them with something other than water seems to be the trick! Thanks for the tips!

Family Tradition...

JBB and I have thought a lot about how we want to raise Cookie; what kind of little person and eventual adult we want her to be. It goes without saying we want he or she to be kind, happy, and really, really good-looking. (HA! Just kidding! Zoolander reference.)While I imagine parenthood is one of those "trial by fire" situations that we can't really plan until we are in the trenches, one thing we both really agree on is that we want to build traditions in our family. Something that, as an adult, Cookie will look back on and smile and say, "Every year my family did...fill in the blank."

Fresh from trimming the tree.

I think traditions are so important. They give you a sense of belonging, of continuity, and of roots. Family traditions were a big deal in the Lambert household growing up, and still are today. I love that I have that shared experience with my brother and sister. That, even as adults in our 30's with our own families, we instantly remember all of the words to the Beach Boy's "Little Saint Nick", as the Beach Boys Christmas CD was played every single year while we decorated the Christmas tree. Nothing makes me happier than hearing songs from that CD; I'm immediately taken back to my parent's family room, with our crazy 1970's orange and brown carpet, with the big tree in the bay window by the door leading out to the pool. I can still recall the exact ornaments we hung on the tree - Nate's orange and green construction paper garland, the green bell ornament with a 5 year old Krissi's face displayed front and center, and the clothes pin angel I made during "craft-time" with my Mimi.

One of JBB's favorite traditions growing up was spending weeks in the summertime at his Grandma and Grandpa Blythe's in Edwardsport. I'm pretty sure that if his parents dropped him off there for the whole summer, he would have happily stayed. What little boy wouldn't love a steady diet of his grandma's pancakes, shooting his BB gun in the junkyard, tinkering on cars in his grandpa's garage (and learning how to drive a car at the age of 11!),  catching crawdads by the creek, and getting to stay up late and watch TV while drinking homemade chocolate milkshakes?



Trying on hats at Churchill Downs!

Last summer, JBB and I went to Churchill Downs so I could experience another Blythe family tradition - a day at the track, betting on horses. I loved everything about it, but mainly I loved how much fun JBB had, and being able to share in such a fun part of his history. When he told me I was the only person he'd ever taken because it was so special to him and he didn't want to invite someone only to have them not like it, I melted inside. A lot.

Traditions, at least in my mind, make everything more fun. The anticipation of the drive to Canada is made a little sweeter knowing that we'll be stopping for dinner at Trapper John's on Friday night, sitting on the screened in porch having a great meal after our long drive. The morning after a sleepover was always extra fun because I knew I'd be getting my dad's biscuits & gravy as a special treat. As adults, we've started a few traditions of our own. JBB and I's "thing" with Henry and Maggie is to take them to the movies. Henry told his mom that he loved going to the movies with us, and it made me so happy to share that with him. The last two Labor Day weekends have been spent in Saugatuck, MI with the Miller family, a tradition I hope to keep going for many years! Someone has to keep Kilwin's ice cream shop in business!


The gang on Labor Day weekend.

I'm not sure exactly what traditions we'll make for Cookie and the Blythe family; some, I'm sure we'll carry over from our own childhoods. I can already picture Cookie jumping into the French River as soon as she unpacks her suitcase in Cabin 16, as her Aunt Kiki and I have done for the last 20 years. I hope our kids love going to the horse tracks with their daddy, just as JBB did growing up. I imagine we'll also make traditions of our own...maybe it will be Saturday morning donuts. Or annual pumpkin carving contests with the cousins. Breakfasts at Betty's in Seymour with the grandparents. Memorial Day pool parties at Muggy and Papaw's. I can't wait to see what evolves and what become favorite memories for our family. I do know one thing - Cookie will love the Beach Boys Christmas CD. I will make sure of it.


The whole family on the deck at Lochaven Lodge.

What are some of your favorite traditions from your family growing up, or new ones you've created with your family?

Me vs. The Pre-Natals

I have a nightly routine, and it goes something like this:

• 5:00 - quittin' time! I call JBB on the drive home and ask him the question I've asked him every night for two years: "What do you want to do for dinner?" He's grown to hate that question.
• 5:30 - 7:00 - we eat said dinner, usually involving a potato. Then we walk around the neighborhood and I try to spy in the windows of neighbors and see if there is anything good going on I need to know about.
• 7:00 - 7:30 - Wheel. Of. Fortune!! Where Jason shouts out answers like "Bertie is a stuffed octopus!" after Vanna puts up an "E". (I'm Bertie. And I laugh every time).
• 7:30 - 8:00 - Jeopardy. Where we marvel at Alex Trebec's arrogance for 30 minutes.
• 8:00 - up the stairs we go. Yes, 8:00. No, we are not 150 years old.

Now - this is where the wheels fall off. Out go the contacts, teeth are brushed, rings come off. I get in bed, fire up episode 919 of House Hunters that I've DVRd. And then I stare at my pre-natals on my night stand, while they stare right back at me. I pretend to not notice them, and concentrate on if the buyers are going to pick the "cute fixer-upper", or the "turn-key ready, but out of their price range" house.

Then, JBB arrives from his bathroom (separate bathrooms = yay!) and reminds me that I have already watched this House Hunters and tells me which house they picked. THEN - "Bertie, it's time to take your vitamin." And I act all nonchalant, like "I know, I'm getting ready to", when inside I'm chanting "It's not that bad, it isn't as big as it looks, it doesn't smell, it won't get stuck in my throat, women lift cars off their children, pony up and take this effin' vitamin woman!!!"

So, I do. And it is dramatic, and I truly don't mean for it to be. Since I've been little I've had a horrible time swallowing pills. My mom used to crush up medicine for me and give it to me in M &M's while she sang and danced "Swallow, swallow, swallow!" That is true. Ask my sister. She still gives me crap for it. Anyway. I brace myself, getting the pre-natal in one hand, and opening my bottle of water with the other. I've figured out that the problem arises when the pre-natal sits on my tongue for even a nano-second; that's when I start to gag, sputter, and generally lose my mind. Sherman had an easier time marching to the sea than I have taking these hogs.

I sit up, take a deep breath, open wide, and in a flurry shove it in my mouth and drink half of the bottle of water, reasoning that the more water in my gullet the faster the vitamin will slide down. Jason watches, warily, and then cheers me on afterwards. "Bertie, that wasn't so bad!" Or, "Bertie, that one went down really fast." And he is serious, bless his heart. He is my biggest cheerleader. And I am getting better. I shouldn't tell you about the pre-natal taking low point, but I'm going to.  A few weeks ago, I was off my game...and...I threw the pill along with the gallon of water I drank right back up onto our new bedspread. It wasn't my finest moment. Speaking of not finest moments - JBB fished the pill up, rinsed it off, and triumphantly announced, "I got it! You can still take it." I didn't; I'm sorry, Cookie.

So - only 196 more nights of this. It gets easier, right? Please tell me it gets easier.





After. Exhausted.

Before. Very nervous.

During. Sheer determination.



Babycakes...!

So...it's been awhile. As in almost 12 months. What can I say; I've been busy. The past year has literally been a whirlwind - in addition to the normal things like working, sleeping, and eating, I have: gotten engaged, planned a wedding, moved THREE times, bought a house, gotten pregnant, and gotten married. I'm exhausted just writing that. I need a nap. You can see why blogging hasn't been top on my list.

However...with the impending arrival of Baby Blythe, or "Cookie" as her Daddy and I affectionately call her, I've decided to give this blog new life. I thought it might be a fun way to track Cookie's progress, and once she's here, all the shenanigans she gets into. (Disclaimer - JBB and I are NOT finding out the sex of our bambino; I just don't like to call the baby "It", so although I will refer to Cooks as a girl, there is no hidden meaning behind "her." Just a pronoun. I think...right? It's been a long time since I've studied the parts of speech.)

So, as of today, I'm 11.5 weeks along. Just hitting that stage where I look chubby but not pregnant. Coincidentally, that's also what I look like after a weekend at the Pork Festival, or a week in Canada. The bummer is, however, unlike with those events, I didn't eat lots of glorious, calorie-laden food to achieve that puffy look. Quite the opposite, in fact. I have no appetite. Which is strange for me. I actually have to remind myself to eat; I used to roll my eyes and scoff at people who said that, and now that has become me. This baby has sucked the appetite, along with any energy I might have had, right out of me. I'm ashamed to admit the amount of nights that I've been asleep before the credits roll on Wheel of Fortune.

Because I'm a sucker for a good list, I've compiled the top 5 pregnancy moments that have occurred this far. I can't wait for the million more the next 6 months will bring!

1.) Telling Jason. We've had a lot of amazing moments together in two years, but that one is hard to top. I wish I could have captured the sweet look on his face at the exact moment I told him. We were sitting on the dock at Canada, eating toast and looking at the beauty of the French River. Fitting that we were in my favorite place in the world when I told him the biggest news of our lives. I'm so, so happy that my kids will get JBB as their dad.
2.) Hearing the baby's heartbeat for the first time is the only thing better than getting to tell Jason we were going to be parents. When I heard that thundering heartbeat, the feeling that washed over me was surreal. I started shaking and crying from head to toe. I didn't know how badly I needed to hear that heartbeat until I did. I didn't ever want the ultrasound to stop.
3.) Speaking of crying - it's something I do a lot of. I'm a crier anyway, so throw in a case of raging hormones, and whoa buddy! Perhaps the most memorable moment - home sick from work, I watched E!'s Fashion Police. If you've seen this show, you know it's not known for its tenderness. However, when the usually withering Joan Rivers gave a very touching tribute to her friend and mentor Phyllis Diller who had just died, I. Lost. It. Called JBB at work, and in between hiccups, managed to choke out, "Who's Phyllis Diller?" If Cookie is in fact a girl, we just might name her Phyllis.
4.) The Invasion of the Stuffed Animals. For those of you who knew me as a child (...or an adult) you may remember I have a serious soft spot for stuffed animals. In a moment of genius, I decided who better to watch over Cookie in her nursery than my favorite animals from childhood, already full of love? Soo...to our house they came, from the attic of my parent's house. A lot of them. At this point, they are in their 30's, and are kind of a motley looking crew. Jason is such a good sport; he gamely gave them all nicknames, and I must say, we're having a high old time with them until Cookie arrives. I've come home to animals in the crisper in the fridge, head first in the cookie jar, and chilling in my bathtub. Cookie is in for some fun with JBB as her dad!
5.) Telling our parents and siblings about their coming soon family member! For my family, this will be grandchild #5, and for Jason's  #1. Both sides were equally thrilled. I'm so, so happy Cookie will have both sets of grandparents and aunts and uncles living so close. This little guy or gal won't be lacking for family.


I'm so glad we got a picture of the exact moment we told JBB's family!

For those of you reading who are parents - what were your favorite (or least favorite!) parts of pregnancy? (And please, keep any terrifying stories/labor horror tales to yourself, as I will vow to myself and Jason to not read them, then I will secretly end up reading them, and then end up googling until 3:00 am, at which point I will call my dad in sheer terror asking him if I really am going to have a 3 headed baby/92 hour labor/etc. So, please, for my dad's sake, spare us.)

Until next time!