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.