Hubby Handiwork

It's been five years, but I'm happy to say: our house is finally done!!!

Yes, just in time for us to put it up and try to move.  Great timing, eh? 

It's fair to say that we have had a few things to do on this house over the years.  No exaggeration, we have literally touched up every single surface in the house in the 5 years we have lived here.  Each and every floor.  All walls, cabinets, light fixtures, door knobs; I do mean everything.  No kidding. 

Until this week, that did not include the floors in our two upstairs bathrooms. 

The guest bath had old, yellowed lanoleum while the master had the absolute only remnant of the original house's carpet.  And you guys?  Nasty doesn't begin to cover it. 

I'm not one for regrets, but I will say that I have kicked myself over the years that we didn't take before and after pictures.  Because our handiwork is kinda impressive.  We're no HGTV or anything, but it's pretty awesome. 

So, here are the very, very few before and afters that I've taken.  Thank you, thank you to my wonderful husband, who spent his only days off in three weeks re-tiling our old, nasty bathroom floors to create something awesome.

Before

After



Before



After

And, of course, my new, beautiful floors!!!  Thanks, Hubby!

 

Basement remodel - Fall, 2009

Current basement - Spring, 2012

Fall, 2009

Present day

 Now, I also have to brag on our yard just a tiny bit.  When we moved in, well... let's just say there wasn't one.  There were a few tiny patches of ragged grass, but mostly it was pretty barren landscape. 

Not anymore!!

It has been a labor of love, and although I know that a move will ultimately benefit our family, it's very difficult to imagine living somewhere else.  We have loved this house!

Half Baked (plus)

YOU.GUYS.

I'm half baked!  Plus two weeks!

Baby size: Papaya - about 1 foot, 1 to 1 1/2 pounds (I'm guessing all on the larger side for our boy).
Weight: Plus 9 pounds.

Almost one year ago exactly, we started this journey to two.

9 months ago, I found out I was pregnant and 8 months ago I wasn't anymore.

But now?  Now, I'm over the halfway mark with this wiggly, sweet little peanut of a boy. 

And I'm still huge, but I'm rapidly discovering that the term fat and happy is totally applicable.  Round.  Robust.  Full.  Insert adjective here.  Hello, Weight Watchers in the fall.

Actually, I'm not up that many pounds (kinda scary, considering how very, very different I look). 

I know it doesn't look it, but I swear I'm carrying much lower than I did with Leah.  Last time, my bump started at my boobs.  This time there's a noticeable (albeit to no one else besides me) gap between boobs and bump. 

I've got all the typical symptoms.  Back ache?  Check.  Exhaustion?  Check.  Contractions?  Check and check. 

Mostly, I'm just worried about how frequently I'm contracting.  I'm trying really, really hard not to be that crazy pregnant lady who calls the OB every 20 minutes.  I've been assured that this is totally normal, and I have a strong hunch it's brought on by the stress of working full time while still caring for a two year old. 

With 4 weeks left at school, I'm interested to see how I do as I get into the third trimester and get to worry about just the mommy/pregnancy pieces.  What a blessing that will be!

Most of the time, I just feel happy.  Not quite as care free as I was with Leah, but let's be honest: there's more to do this time around.  I'm definitely more tired physically, mentally and emotionally, which is something I'm really trying to watch.  I very strongly believe that my emotional state has an affect on the way this little one develops, so I want to make sure I'm sending him only the best of me. 

18 weeks to go, and we're into my very favorite part of pregnancy.  We love you, Baby Boy, and we can't wait to meet you!

Snowed in (just not literally)

5 weeks. 

That's what I have left.  I'm going to make it. 

It's a far cry from last year's naiive "I've only got 5 weeks left?!  Who can believe how fast the school year goes!"

In case you were wondering, I hate that chipper, obnoxious, energy-having, student-liking person right now.  Really, if she were here, I would punch her right in the face. 

Seriously.

We're still here.  I'm still pregnant (which is a very, very good thing despite my negative tone).  It's just that my crazy circus of a life has me running for bed when I finally get a spare minute instead of the keyboard.

In the news:
I scared a teenager in the checkout line at the grocery store.  Sick 2 year old + husband out of town + 4:30 in the afternoon = one very stressed mommy.  Oh yeah, and this kid was contracting the heck out of me.  I'm pretty sure the girl in front of me thought I was going to have the baby right there between the shopping cart and her Kit Kats.  She was looking a little pale.

Leah is officially two.  Yes.  So far, I've routinely commented on how each new phase is my favorite, and it really was true.  We've reached the juncture where that's no longer accurate.  Good thing she's cute, 'cause she's stubborn and ornery, too.  And the kind of smart that makes life very interesting. 

Oh, and the house.  I've totally forgotten to mention: we're selling it.  Or, at least, we're trying to.  It goes on the market May 1st (and please don't remind me how quickly that's coming up.  I might start pulling my hair out).  Heaven only knows what will come of it in this market, but say a little prayer, will ya? 

I'll admit it, I'm feeling a little overwhelmed.  I know that everything will work out the way it's supposed to...

...it's just that I've taken to maniacally chanting the time I have left over and over, like one of those vacant-eyed, crazy haired people you sometimes see in movies.  Or on the streets of Downtown Denver.

5 weeks.  5 weeks.  5 weeks.

A love letter to my baby boy

To my beautiful baby boy,

It is difficult to fully express to you the emotions I feel as I write this letter.  It's 2:30 a.m. and, as usual, we can't sleep.  I am awake, and - faithful little buddy that you are - so are you. 

It's still a little odd to me to think that all these things I'm experiencing are things you never will.  You will never sit at a computer at 2:30 a.m. with a glass of milk, giggling like a school girl because there is a tiny babe moving in your belly.  You probably won't even giggle like a school girl, because, well, you'll never be one. 

Instead, you'll have your own adventures.  The boy kind.  Ones that I'll probably never fully understand that involve dirt and bugs and climbing things. 

Your sister cannot wait to meet you. And you know what else? She's pretty cool. She calls you Baby Peanut and thanks God for you in her prayers. There will probably be some times when you won't get along and you'll make eachother nuts, but remember that she loved you too, right from the beginning. 

Please know that you have filled my very soul with lovely.  There has been a tiny piece missing from my heart, and I know it is a hole that is shaped precisely to you.  One day when you can read, I want you to know just how big a blessing you've already been to your family. 

Your name means "from the hollow."  I wish I could tell you that we picked it especially for you, but like so many things that come with being the second child, it's just a hand-me-down.  Except that it fits you perfectly, because before you came along, that's what I was: a little hollow.  A lot hollow.  I treasure your name every time I think of you, my perfect little someone whose very existence chases away the hollow and makes me full.  Full of hope, wonder, and the incredible miracle that is a new life.  Make no mistake, this name belongs to you, even when we didn't know it was you we were picking it for. 

God is funny about those things, my beautiful boy.  He gives us what we need even before we knew we would need it.  I pray that His grace will touch every moment of your life, and that you will grow and thrive in His perfect love.   

Although I cannot wait to meet you, I hope you'll hang out another, oh, 18 weeks or so.  I love this special time where it's just you and me, and I get to poke and annoy and treasure you in this way when you're uniquely mine.  Remember when you get out: the grandmas might give you candy, but you lived in me.  I'm just sayin'. 

You'll like it here.  We're pretty fun people.  I make amazing birthday cakes and Daddy can't wait to play legos with you.  I think you'll have to take all your sports advice from me, though.  Don't tell Daddy, but I'm way better at throwing a ball than him. 

I love you to the moon and back,

Mommy  

Star Wars: Now showing in my uterus

Firstly, let's all just let out that sigh of relief we've been holding hoping for a perfectly healthy, happy baby. 

What?  That was just me?  Well, let me pause to exhale.

Since that's done, let's all also marvel at the complete and total immodesty of our son, who has no inhibitions whatsoever...

...and who is still very, very clearly a boy.  Just in case you couldn't read this ultrasound photo.  Like, from space.  (To be fair, I did warn him today that I'd be putting these pictures on the internet.)

He has taken up Leah's favorite old (breech) haunting grounds of head up-butt down, facing directly at my spine.  Which makes me wonder if A) the space in my belly is at all like the butt marks on the couch when you've been sitting there for a really long time or B) perhaps the back of my uterus does something utterly amazing, like showing matine features of the entire Star Wars trilogy. 

It's really nothing to worry about, given that I still have 20 weeks to go.  Just an interesting sibling similarity.

Baby Boy is also measuring a bit on the large side.  About one week larger than he should be, to be exact, and that is something to worry about.  The words 85th percentile have me and my lady parts a little on edge. 

Which brings me to the contractions, which have already started.

I'm convinced I had next to none with Leah.  No Braxton Hicks, except for one scary night at about 30 weeks when I nearly talked myself into labor. 

So I was surprised two nights ago when, out of the blue, I had a HUGE (and thankfully quick) contraction.  I've been feeling them somewhat frequently ever since, even though they're gentle.

It's worried me a little, given how early it is.  I also couldn't decide if I'm just crazy.  So when we caught two contractions on the ultrasound today, I couldn't help but feel a little vindicated.  I've been assured that it's not too early; evidently my body is just preparing for what it obviously knows is going to be quite an event. 

Yes, that wiggly baby boy is going to have to get out at some point.  Right now though, I'm quite content with his current accomodations.

'Specially if my uterus can play Star Wars. 

The bunny and the egg

On Easter eve, I discovered the beauty of holiday characters who come in the middle of the night: God bless the Easter Bunny for working his magic only after children fall asleep!  On hearing this information, Leah promptly - and with absolutely zero pushback - curled up and fell asleep.

In the morning while changing her diaper, we discovered a little egg in a shoe, and from there, the magic of Easter was revealed.  Including much candy consumed before breakfast.

We went to an early church service and then Daddy went home to put our breakfast in the oven while Leah and I worked the next service. 

Afternoon activities included a nap, a walk, and watching the new Veggie Tales DVD the Easter Bunny brought.  We learned, through a combination of singing fruits and vegetables, that a thankful heart is a happy heart.  Too, too true.

Dinner was a delicious steak grilled by my oh so talented hubby and strawberry shortcake for dessert.

Leah's third Easter.  Our hearts are very happy, indeed.