Warning: Soap Box

Feeling "beautiful" or "attractive" is something women seem to be obsessed over, and I am definitely not exempt from those thoughts.

 I have sometimes found myself wishing I could just look a little more like this person,  fit into those jeans like that girl does, or have the same hair as that fabulous lady.  Always someone to be admired. Always someone who seems more glamorous that myself. 

Why do we do this? Its infernally dumb.

So I'm a solid size 12, and not the 8 I would like to be.  I can STILL be beautiful, and I can work to look more healthy.

So I will have awkward "growing out" hair for the next year or so. It will give the chance to be funky and creative. I've always loved that. 

So husband will always weigh less than me, even if I achieve that size 8. He tells me I am the most beautiful woman in the world. I need to believe him, and stop telling him that it doesn't count because he has to say that. I am to him, and that is all I need.

Being pregnant has had the opposite affect on my self image than I would have supposed.  I thought I would be ashamed with the weight gain, and change of body size, but I find myself more satisfied with who I am and how I look than ever before. 

I hope it carries over to after the little guy gets here.

Bedtime Conversations: Part 4

Large yawn.

Me: Can you see my uvula?

Husband: Yes. I always knew you were a girl.

Between Legs

For me, finding out the gender of our baby was like turning it into an actual person, rather than some growing bubble that didn't seem would ever be real.

I have been more excited about how my life is about to change in the last week, than any time since the moment I sat squatting on the bathroom floor in late September to see that little plus sign on the stick I didn't want to touch because it had pee on it.

 (I didn't pee on it while it was on the floor, but I promptly put it there, so I could wash my hands.)

We have started seriously discussing names, and in order to choose we are referring to him by the different names to see how we feel about them. (Thanks for that suggestion Chenyl.)

When we got home from the clinic, I instantly got on the internet and started looking at little boy clothes.

I am very picky. Good thing my mother-in-law is an amazing seamstress.

They don't sell baby tweed pants anywhere.

So, in case you haven't heard or guessed, our little one is sporting boy parts. 

And boy, was he glad to show them to us. 

Casa de Lewis de Brigham

It is due to the acquisition of the lovely things below that I have had such an extended absence from my blog. 

I am not a big "change" person, and there were a lot of things about this move that I was nervous about.  My nervousness was silly (as usual), and the only negative things about this entire experience has been the gas bill. 

Here are a few of the loveliest things I have found about my new little home so far.

I'm not sure why, but I am in love with these horizontal panels.

 

This little goose guy keeps me company over my sink whenever I feel like doing dishes. Needless to say even though I like him, we don't spend a lot of time together.

This is the first time I have been lucky enough to have a separate little dining space.  It is just offset from the kitchen, and only feels like its own room because of the partial walls, but it makes me happy.

 

Most of the doors have these old key holes.  

I can see the weather outside by sitting inside and looking out. 

It makes me feel like a child imagining a new world of my own.

 

Look at this beautiful doorknob and keyhole.  

Why don't they make everyday things so beautiful anymore?

I wish very much that I had the old set of keys that went to this house.

My favorite thing of all is the view I have out of my front window.

The light is beautiful both in the morning, and evening.

The mountains seem to be part of me, and I love being so close to them.

Other People's

spills, stains, toots, pee, and bums. That is what has always stained my kitchen chairs. 

We picked them up for free from one of our old apartment buildings when they were going to throw them out after buying new dining sets for all of the apartments. 

They have always been sturdy, but the upholstery was so abused, that I almost wanted to take a bath after sitting on them. 

After two years of sitting on them, husband is relieved that we can start doing dishes in the kitchen sink rather than with me in the bath tub.

Just kidding. That would be REALLY gross.

Thanks to my angel mother-in-law they no longer look like this.

 I am not sure why anyone ever thought this fabric was a good idea.

The foam was rotting and fally-aparty as we pulled out the millions of staples.

The mid-stages were very anti-climatic.  All I got to see was these holy boards.

But I was not disappointed

The dining room carpet is something we can talk about a different time.

Aren't they like NEW?!?

My derriere has never been so pleased.

Turkey Timer Started

Now that there is movement and actual tummy protrusion, pregnancy is starting to be something I'm enjoying rather than forgetting, and thinking my body is just revolting against me.

This baby does an amazing impersonation of a gas bubble.

Yoga pants are my best friend.

I never thought having a belly would make me feel adorable. This one does. 

I never thought shopping would give me an anxiety attack. Husband had to remove me from a maternity store last weekend before I burst into tears. I'm working on thinking it was funny.

I'm already planning the morning playlists that will serenade us each morning while I make breakfast, and teach my little one the joys of shameless dance parties.

Loving Re-entry

This is how I know I married the best one.

 He cut those hearts himself.  Out of paper. Green paper none the less.

He heard me say once that I wanted to read this book.

So now I have it.

 

And this is the message he had put in the flowers he sent to school for me. 

Just so you know, I did not assign him that title. 

He is self appointed.