When you're gone, I wanna go, too...

I feel like I'm all a'flutter. Not only did I get to have an awesome lunch with a sweet friend (and got turtle cheesecake to go!) and receive a belated (and very awesome) birthday gift, I was able to get my hair trimmed and I understand it's "just hair" but when it's bad, it's about the only thing that matters. At least to a girl. I don't know how guys feel about this. I doubt they get as emotionally involved as we do when it comes to such things. Which is probably a good thing, because if my husband ever allowed a "bad hair day" to wreck his mood, I'd probably smack him. It's amazing how we make certain things permissible for some and not all. Or something.

To top off this fantastic day of sunshine, complete with a Yankee candle that is scenting up my house with fresh cut lilacs and a puppy (well, an 80+ lb. "puppy") snoring away on the deck (no, really) this day is pretty intoxicating. Plus, not only did my hairstylist turn my bad hair day into a good one, she also proclaimed I was "cute" as a pregnant person and her co-worker deemed I was "all belly". I wanted to make them my BFF's and buy them iced chai tea lattes for being awesome.

When it comes to complimenting a pregnant woman (especially a nine month pregnant woman) one of the best things you can say is how she doesn't look like she's as far along as she is or that the only weight she has gained is right in the middle and is all baby. Trust me... they will love you forever if you say such things. I'm tempted to frame these thoughts from those around me and tack them up around my bathroom mirror. I'd even use different colors of gel pens and maybe buy some awesome stickers. And glitter. I'd probably douse them all in glitter.

With all that said, the worse possible things you can say are obvious, but apparently aren't obvious enough, because some of ya'll have been caught saying it. For shame! Go find a mouth governor and come back to us when you can say something nice about our changing forms that doesn't come out this way: "Your butt looks so much bigger!" or "Oh my goodness, you certainly have a belly on you!" or "Look at that pooch!" (Unless you're talking about my dog, this is unacceptable. "Pooch" is never attractive. You should know this!) Also, please refrain from saying things that imply we are "showing" too early or that we already look 20 months pregnant when we're only 20 weeks.

And in some cases, since everyone is different (you know this, right?!) not everyone is going to "grow" at the same rate or in the same way. So, please hold yourself back from saying anything that implies we're doing something wrong or that something must be wrong with the growth of our baby because we're "not showing yet" when your cousin so-and-so did x, y and z. We don't care. We are not her. We can't relate. And we can't control what happens or what doesn't. But you should know that already, shouldn't you?

Anyway, that's my rant today. Mostly because some of my friends have been subjected to insensitive comments by those who never learned the precious reminder from Thumper's momma in Bambi...

There. See? It really is that easy. Really. Think before you speak. I understand it takes a little practice, but trust me - it's well worth it! Besides, you never know when your well meaning comment will wreck someone's day. Kind of like bad hair. It'd be better if we all took some time to think before we speak. It's much better to be a blessing than a curse.

And with that, I'm hopping off the soapbox. :)

Enjoy your day! It's a good one!

Just a small town girl...

My baby boy is due to arrive next weekend. How crazy is that?! I've been a little nostalgic as I look back over the past nine months and all the milestones... the night I found out and cried and cried until my husband came home (not the reaction I expected to have), the first time I felt the baby move, how I miraculously gained 30 lbs. without even trying, how I had very significant fruit cravings for each trimester: 1st Trimester = Apples. 2nd Trimester = Canned Peaches. And 3rd Trimester = Oranges (an obscene amount of oranges).

And over the next year, there will be more milestones, but they will be my son's... not mine and his. Just his. I'll mark his ability to roll over, sit up, eat solid foods and the first time he says, "Daddy" on the calendar hanging in his room. It's kind of funny to think that as he grows, he will get more and more independent, even though in the beginning he will be so incredibly dependent on us for his care and survival. Last night I went to bed, imagining the day when my little boy would be an eighteen year old Senior and possibly towering over me (okay, maybe not towering, since neither my husband or I possess ginormous genes) but still. He'll be my little boy, but he won't.

When we were stressing and stressing over what to name him, we kept saying, "Yeah, it's cute for a baby, but what about when he's a man?" Someday this little person, who according to a baby-site I looked at last week claimed he was the size of a large mouthed bass fish (every woman's dream baby), is going to be a man. And I hope he gets the best pieces of me (what few scraps there are) and that he takes after his Daddy in every imaginable way. If my son turns out like his father, then he will be so... Oh, gosh.... I don't even know the words. But my eyes just filled with tears, if that's any indication of what a wonderful man God created for me to share my life with. Blessed. So blessed.

I'm anxious for our son to get here. We're ready. We're waiting. The bags are packed. I feel about as ready as I'm ever going to be, although each day that goes by, I'm surprised by how much peace and grace I go looking for when my fears and mental games threaten to get the best of me. I don't have anything figured out. I can't control anything. I'm forced to make myself ready and just wait. And while that's not easy for me to do, I'm learning that I can do it. We can either let Jesus be the steering wheel or the spare tire (thanks to a local church sign for that). You choose. You make up (renew) your mind and go from there.

And on less serious notes, betcha didn't know the picture on my journal of the mother and baby is from an old vintage ad for cigarettes, did you? I find that entire concept amusing (in a sick and twisted kind of way). You would be shocked out of your gourd if you saw an ad involving a mother cuddling her precious newborn, while she prepared to light up after she put him down for his afternoon nap these days. Heck, just seeing this one kind of blew my mind when I first came across it. I mean.... really? Really?

Have a beautiful Monday. And no, that is not an oxymoron. Stop being so cynical.

I only want to be wanted by you...

... I saw a quote last week or some time in the past that said, "2 a.m., we have to stop meeting this way. I want to sleep with you." Amen.

... There's something not right about not knowing whether you want to have a snack or puke.

... I am 37 weeks pregnant. That feels as though it should somehow tell you everything you need to know.

... Odd hours make me fixate on odd things. Such as: Why did I ever think it was a good idea to cut my hair? Or worse, I get songs stuck on repeat in my head. And they aren't sweet, peaceful, sleep-inducing songs. They're typically dance party-type mixes that I'd take to the gym. If I went to the gym.

... We officially locked in a name for our Baby Boy! It's been an ongoing saga with us. But now he has a first and middle name. My heart did a little flip once we finally decided. We bought letters to hang above his crib, spelling out his name. So there's no going back, now!

... I love my grandparents. We had dinner with them last night. More people should have dinner with their grandparents.

... If anyone knows the magic trick for turning your brain off, let me know. I'm pretty sure this is only something men have the capacity to do since they have a "nothing box". I don't know any females that have such a thing.

... And that's all you get from me for now, since I've decided it is most definitely a snack I need (yes, need.)

Blessings to you!