Babyproofed.

Apparently we have some work to do.

Warm Whispers...

Awhile ago I posted about a supposed 'FORK' in the road of my life. Decisions were to be made about whether or not we would try for a second baby. Collectively we could come up with so many reasons NOT to, and so many reasons why we absolutely should.

Months passed, and I could never close the door. Even when we both agreed that we were blessed with one beautiful child and that was enough I wasn't completely at peace. My husband knew all along, he just said he wanted to wait for me to come around at my own time. He knows me a little too well.

We decided to try again, giving ourselves through Christmas. If nothing happened by then we knew that that was our sign, and I convinced myself I'd be okay with that.

We're pregnant.

Again!!!

I'm actually about 14 1/2 weeks along but have been keeping things between family and friends until I hit the 12 week mark and told my boss. Both of equal importance!

This time around is so different. I still have been barfing a bit, but not near as much as with Brooklyn. I haven't gained any weight, in fact, I've lost 5 lbs. I did do that with her too so I'm not worried about it, and trust me, I am eating. I think that because I've been there done that I am not nearly as fixated on EVERY LITTLE DETAIL or already experiencing the anxiety of having to BIRTH a child. That thought absolutley terrified me. It, physically, didn't make sense to me. Watermelon. Lemon. TERROR. My husband is blissfully happy with this 2nd pregnancy as I'm not near as much of a crazy bitch, not yet at least, and I'm not screaming at him that WE HAVE TO READ PAGE 32 in the pregnancy bible book because OMG WE'RE 14 WEEKS AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN KNOW!!! (break down sob fest). See, the first pregnancy was definitely different.

In fact, I have to remind myself I'm pregnant most days. Chasing a 15 month old around is basically like owning exercise equipment and on top of that I keep my normal pace I always have. I get in trouble and my husband literally forces me to sit down and rest. My body feels it though, and this little baby sends me subtle reminds he/she is there. Warm Whispers to take care of him/her, slow down, stay healthy, rest, and GET READY.

We are so blessed this Christmas to be surrounded by our amazing family and friends, and to know that another little life is soon on the way. I am very thankful...

Merry Christmas! Happy Festivus! Hannukkah! Whatever it is you celebrate, CHEERS.

Full Circle

This morning I was getting ready in my bathroom with my little one playing on the floor. Entertainment for her consisted of pulling everything out from underneath the cabinet which includes: a box of panty liners and tampons (which then get thrown like large pieces of confetti), sunscreen, various facial masks, boxes of soap, cotton balls, lotion bottles, hairbands, and bath salt. That was the inventory list this morning. And as I sit there blow drying my hair, watching her destroy my bathroom, my mind drifts to "this time last year..."

I was fat. I was hot. I was pregnant.

I was off work at this point, as I think I left around August 16th, her due date being September 4th. I remember EVERYONE telling me to sit, relax, and just enjoy the downtime because "oh my gosh how things are going to change for you!!!" Bleh, whatever. I tried, I really did, but it's hard to relax when you are continuously trying to understand the magic behind pushing something the size of a bowling ball out of your vagina. Ughhh. I watched hours and hours of A Baby Story, Birth Day, etc...a and cringed and cried during each episode. My husband would come home from work, walk in the door and look at me as if to say, "okay I love you, but you are borderline pathetic." I would always pause my day for lunch, meet girlfriends or Dom, and enjoyed getting out for a bit, but do so vividly remember how the clock just ticked ever so slowly in the days leading up to her birth. I would lay on the couch and play out how it would all go down. Would my water break in public, we run home, sprint in the house, grab our bags, and head to the hospital like it happens on the movies? Would I be home, wake up with contractions, or would I have to be induced? I played out every scenario over and over. I ate spicy things, had sex, walked the stairs a million times, did jumping jacks, everything but drink castor oil...although if it was guaranteed I was in.

This time last year...I had 13 more days before I met my beautiful baby girl who changed my life forever. Who now, a year later, is redecorating my bathroom with feminine products.

What were you up to this time last year?

My beach baby.

We went to the beach last weekend with friends. I sort of had one of those come full circle moments as I was with my girlfriend and her family. Same girlfriend that I was at the beach with in college, big decision of the day was determing exactly what time we would pop that first Corona. This time, families in tow, I was so excited to take Brooklyn as this was something I did every summer as a kiddo and loved it. Note: ignore the brownish blue water and semi-sand, we live in Texas and this is what we get. Deal.

She loved it, every minute of it, and even though she was the runt of the group she held her own. See all those white specs of shells in the sand? Those might as well have been crackers because each and every one she could get her tiny little fingers on she tried to eat. Sharp edge, dirty, way to go mom of the year.

Where the water hit the sand, however, we were good to go. Splash, splash more, kick at the waves breaking on her little feet. A whole new world.

At one point we had her in her 'boat' in the water. Sharks, jellyfish potentially feet away - another mom of the year moment, but again, I remember playing in the water for hours, and I cherish those moments.
We plan on going again at the end of the summer, although I may leave her with grandma as this is much more rowdy crowd. Circa 1998 type of crowd referenced above. The type where I could potentially drink so much that I myself will start thinking the shells are crackers.

Yay summertime.

Blockhead

So I've already identified an area that could pose some serious conflict into my relationship, and that is the level at which we purchase things for our daughter. I'm guilty, yes, of wanting her to have lots of fun toys but Dom feels like with each toy we turn down we have taken something from her, denied her. Puh-lease. She's fine, "she has toys" I say. Now clothes and/or shoes....different story.

If I let him out on his own he will most definitely come home with something for her, the latest are a set of blocks from the Learning Express. I'm like "blocks? really?". Now I know every kid plays with a set of blocks at some point in their lives but at 6 months - what the hell is she going to do with these?

Let's see - she chews them, throws them, knocks them down, stares at them, LOVES them. These blocks even traveled via Continental airlines to Mexico and provided high valued entertainment most days. They have now landed in the bathtub. Something else that's amazing - we still have all six. So because I'm feeling very relaxed today I am going to go on record and admit defeat.

One day she'll appreciate her cute shoes...

New toy!

Okay so I hope we chose wisely when it came to Brooklyn's next toy. I swear I can already feel the pressure of "mom - Gracie's got a cooler toy than me!!!" And then Dom and I trying to determine if she needs it or just wants it before we go buy. In reality I think before kids turn 5 they should just play with old tupperware, cardboard boxes, pots, pans, and maybe a marker or crayon. But I can't have her not have the cool toys like the rest of the kids on the block. OMG what a nightmare. I blame the manufacturer's! There are a million baby toys out there, jumparoo's, exersaucers, walkers, blah blah blah. After much deliberation we settled on the exersaucer and it's adorable to watch her, she's just so happy to be able to stand!