Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Being THAT pregnant.

This is just as comfortable as it looks. Anybody want to take over for a few days, so my back can get a break? ;)

I'm just sitting here, waiting for Syndil to wake up from her nap, and thinking about being this pregnant. So many things I didn't remember. 

The way my feet spread/grow under the pressure. 

Hitting things with my belly when I turn around (mostly Syndil, haha. Poor girl gets knocked over by her brother at least twice each day). 

The terrified looks people give me when they see me coming. 

The awkward comments they make because they have no idea what to say, but feel compelled to say something. 

The killer leg cramps that wake me from a dead sleep. 

The fact that only 3 shirts even fit anymore, and those probably have stains on them that I can't see, because my boobs and belly are in the way. 

The fact that I'm ok with that. 

The way people talk about rather intimate parts of my body- even people I don't know. I'm not embarrassed about my cervix, but I don't usually volunteer details about my lady parts in the check out line. 

The way women ask me about my birth plan, and then tell me I'm doing it wrong. Too natural, and I must be holier-than-thou, and looking for a medal. Not natural enough, and don't I care about my baby? 

Getting stuck in bed, and needing a push to get out 6-8x per night, so I can pee. 

Applying a new layer of deodorant 3+ times each day. 

The way people hold open doors and offer to help. Appreciating that, even though I really could do it all myself. 

Wanting him to come as soon as he can, because I can't wait to meet him. 

Wanting him to wait another 3 months, because I'm not ready. 

The weird looks I get when he starts dancing in there, and my belly starts to move. 

The REALLY weird looks when that happens, and I'm next to a teenager. 

Feeling so special. 

Feeling so frumpy. 

Feeling so, so ready to have my body back. 

5 more weeks.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Turd is just SUCH a great nickname.

Syndil stared hard at her dad, and whispered "Turd." 

A little smile crept onto her face.

"Turd turd turd turd..."

She has been listening a little more than I expected at a year and a half old, and sometimes she picks up a new word in the middle of my conversation. Like this one.

Can you guess what she is trying to say?


This is as close as she gets. It's actually a pretty good toddler version.

Do you guys let your kids use your first names? Or are you more of a "mom and dad only, please" kind of family? We are definitely the latter, I very much prefer to be called mama. And I'm pretty sure Turd likes to be called Dada. 

So, I should try and stop her.Or at least try to smother my laughter, yes? But... It's just such a great nickname.

I keep thinking that this? Is not something my in laws anticipated.


Do the names you love lend themselves to any unfortunate nicknames? I'd love to hear. Especially the unexpected ones. 

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Well, 'uck.

Syndil spend 20 minutes happily chanting "Uck 'uck 'uck!" in a disgusted voice the other day, after we were almost hit by a car on our walk.


Have your kids ever learned a naughty word or phrase that you swear you only said around them once??

Monday, April 7, 2014

This whole pregnancy thing just isn't as...monumental? As last time.

Thank you for your support the other day, with I miss the memories I don't have. Losing my mom ten years ago- it's scabbed over, you know? Not so much of an open wound. It mostly just itches. But April second just makes everything a little more raw.

Your comments and thoughts are very appreciated.


We haven't been as good at taking pictures this time around. Heck, the whole pregnancy thing just isn't as...monumental? As last time. With Syndil, I had 3 pregnancy apps, and could tell you the week she developed eyelashes. This time, I have to guess which week I'm in when people ask (33, as of today- I just checked).

Anybody else experience this?

Last time I'd had 3 photoshoots by professionals by the time I was this far along. All were done by talented friends,and didn't actually cost me anything, but even if I'd had to pay I would have because I was so darn excited, and wanted to document everything.

This time around, I live far from those friends. So it's mostly up to Kurt (or my 30 second timer) to take pictures. I have some exciting ideas for photo shoots, but they just feel like so much work! Kurt is rarely home, and when he is, I mostly just pawn our daughter off and take a nap.

But, the other day, he took the camera into his own hands, and snapped a few while we were playing. And, I'm pretty sure my well-thought-out photo shoots aren't going to be nearly as pretty as this candid. It's a bit blurry (most pictures of Syndil are, these days), but I still love it.

I have a weakness for backlighting. And do you see her fingers?? I'm in love.


On a related note, do you guys have any tips for using Photoshop Elements? I just realized that my Bamboo drawing tablet came with it, and I'm pretty excited- but I have no idea how to use it. I opened it to edit this picture, and closed it again 2 minutes later because it's like they are trying to be as cryptic as possible. All those symbols, and no description when you hover over them? Obviously, it was not made for a person like me. Picmonkey is more my comfort zone. Any tips on where to find some good tutorials?


And if any of you blog about your children, and are looking for a place to link up some of your best posts, I found a great little link up. It's at Perfection Pending, called Manic Mondays. It starts Mondays, but goes all week (this week's link up is here). Enjoy!

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

I miss the memories I don't have.

10 years is such a long time. Sometimes it seems like forever.

I can't remember the way she smelled. I can't really remember her voice. Her image is a little blurry, like I've been staring into the sun, and now my eyes are having a hard time focusing on details.

I remember her movement. Nervous, but graceful. How she would hitch up her pants when they started sliding down on her hips. How she would tilt her head and shrug. How her feet were permanently turned out when she walked, after decades of dancing. The way she would blink when you drew her attention back outside of herself, and whatever she had been pondering. The slightly distracted, welcoming smile when you barged into her room (if the door was open. You knocked if it was closed), and how she would set down her scriptures so she could really focus on you. She was a great listener. She was a great conversationalist.

The nervous way her voice changed when she was talking on the phone, or really anytime she was feeling uncomfortable. Her laugh would get higher, more forced. It wasn't that she didn't think something was funny, she just wasn't in her element.

The way she would grimace whenever she caught sight of herself in the mirror. A former dancer, she didn't have patience for aging, or for her body 5 kids later. If she saw me now, would she be disappointed? I don't think so. But I am the same size she was when she thought she looked ugly. Yet I know she would tell me I look beautiful, and mean it. Why couldn't she say the same for herself?

The family dinners. She cooked every night, and we all gathered around the table. The laughter and conversation that flowed- that is one of my favorite things about growing up in our family. We all connected over dinner. Now that I'm in charge of cooking, I can't imagine how she did it over and over, every single night. Even there she was shy sometimes. But every once in a while, she would chime in with a sarcastic quip that would have us all rolling on the floor with laughter- literally.

One time she threw a roll at my dads head. We were all shocked. It was possibly the most unexpected, hilarious moment of my childhood.

She couldn't sing. Literally could not carry a tune. She was self conscious about it, and barely whispered in church during the hymns. But she really loved to sing, and always wished she could be in a choir. If life was fair, she would have been born with the voice that matched her love of music. Instead she just listened. But with her children? She sang. Our whole childhood she sang. She made us each a song when we were born, and sang it to us every night until we were too big to stop asking.

Man, she loved us kids. We were her world. We were her best friends. Her proudest moments. When I was in a play (just a minor role with 3 lines) she bought tickets to every show. The lead came up to me after, and commented on how it wasn't fair that my bouquet was so much bigger than his. It didn't matter that we were poor, or that it was the 4th time she had seen it that weekend. She was so proud, she couldn't keep it in.

When my little brother was in soccer (ages 3-9), you'd have thought he was the star player from the way his fan section cheered him on. It didn't matter that he scored 3 goals in all those years. She was just so proud.

I wish my memories didn't stop back then. I wish I could be thinking about that time she visited me in college, and we sat up all night talking about a guy I was dating. I wish we could have done a girls weekend trip someplace, just her and her girls. Maybe Vegas? She would have loved to see a show. I wish I could think back on her face when I was trying on wedding dresses. She would have loved every single one, even the ones that looked bad. We would have laughed and laughed. She would have stayed up all night planning with me, and then called the caterer, reception hall, everything for me (with her awkward, forced phone voice), just because I was nervous about doing it. I wish I could remember her on my wedding day. I felt her presence, but there is no image to go with that.

I wish I could think back to Syndil's birth, and see her there. She would have been on that red eye flight with Amber, and they would both have been at my side when Syndil tore her way into this world. I wish I could think about the dozens of trips she has made out to visit us, to see her first daughter's first daughter.

I wish I had these memories.

Ten years is such a long time. She has missed so much.

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