A (not so surprising) Surprise Post

Well. Did you guess it by the title? Or are you like a few of my people (Ollie) and you knew it when you saw me??

Yep, we're preggo again. 

If there is one thing I have learned from having a miscarriage it is that you can't even sneeze without somebody declaring you are sick; therefore, you MUST be pregnant. Actually nobody actually said that to my face, but the look on their faces? The look said it all. Or Adam could actually be right (for once) in that he says I have been overly paranoid about the whole thing and that nobody had a clue, but we left his Granny's a few weeks ago and I told him we were going to just have to come on out with it because I saw his momma looking at my stomach and I know she knows. To which he dramatically rolled his eyes and called me out for being crazy. Whatever. 

So the story goes like this. Last summer I started telling God how we might want another baby, but I didn't know for sure because what would we do with another baby and my Reese E Cup is very needy of her mother and I couldn't even imagine being pregnant again because, God, you know I am the worst pregnant girl EVER. Oh, and God you also know I have only built up 8 sick days and there IS NO WAY I can have a baby during the school year because, oh my gracious, IT WOULD COST ME A FORTUNE WITH NO SICK DAYS.

And basically I said all that plus some to God and it was a big, long run on sentence because it freaked me out that we were even considering another baby (mainly because I haven't forgotten how horribly painful the whole epidural experience was). Plus I am about as Type A as you can get and I HAVE TO BE IN CONTROL OF THINGS. So, yeah, God if you could give us a baby...oh....say....the end of May? Yeah, now that would work out perfectly. 

And then I went on and on about how much less stressful it was when WOOPS! I accidentally got pregnant with Reese. Shook me to the core, almost made me have a nervous breakdown, but so much less stressful than actually planning to have a baby. 

When talking to God about it I would always end my run on sentence with, "but whatever you want is good with me" when in reality, no it was not good with me. I wanted it my way. Then all the sudden we were pregnant and it was perfect because it was due the day after school got out and it would take minimal sick days and so on. Then I got a reminder  that I have no control whatsoever over my life, and little miss Type A was forced to sit down and take inventory. 

Through that whole experience I realized a lot of things. One of the main ones being that my job is not my life and, in reality, it wouldn't be the end of the world to have a baby during the school year. We are by no means "well off," but Adam can pay the bills if I were to go without a few paychecks during a maternity leave. Honestly it was the most liberating feeling to just let go of all those worries that used to be so big, but in the grand scheme of things are so trivial. 

After several weeks we agreed that whatever happened happened. If we never got pregnant again that was okay with us. If God wanted us to have another baby, that would be great too. Even if it was during the school year. 

So here we are. According to the calculations the baby is due November 11th. According to the size of the baby it is due November 3rd. So I'm a little over 12 or 13 weeks, depending on how you look at it. Because I know how miserable I will be by the 11th, I'm going with the 3rd;)

I am still the worst pregnant girl ever. It has been very up and down with this pregnancy. It was up and down with Reese as well. I am currently going to the doctor once a week (2 weeks in a row I went twice because I have spotting issues.) The upside is that we get a sonogram every week just to be sure everything is okay. That's what happens after you have a miscarriage after the first trimester. When people tell me how much they love being pregnant, I want to poke their eyes out. (Unless you are one of the people who have told me that, and in that case I would never ever want you poke your eyes out.) Pregnancy is stressful for me. I had several miscarriage scares with Reese, then had a "late" miscarriage, then I've had lots of miscarriage scares with this one. It all equals up to a girl who is highly paranoid and more than a touch crazy. Big Daddy nailed it years ago when there was some discussion of my fear of needles/hospitals: "You can look at her and tell she isn't going to be a good baby maker." Good call, Big Daddy. Good call. 

We had planned to wait till after 14 weeks to tell, but it got too hard. I was having to leave work a lot without stating a reason. Plus I'm big. It could no longer be hidden. 

Here is a comprehensive list of the sonograms we have had. We would appreciate any prayers you could throw our way. 

April 2nd

April 5th

April 15 and 16 (yeah this was a crazy 2 days that involved having 8 viles of blood drawn and a shot...you can imagine how happy I was)- but look at those legs in the bottom picture

April 22- hands over face

April 29th- hands over face again

Let the record show that it is a girl. I know without a shadow of a doubt because I feel exactly how I felt with Reese. Plus I've always had this feeling we would have a house filled with little girls because Adam is  a kind and gentle man who will handle daughters in their teenage years with grace and humility. I, on the other hand, will be sitting in the corner crying about how we will ever survive all the drama. Reese claims, "It's a baby. It's a bruder." Lord willing we shall see sometime around the end of May.

Thomas the Train and other happenings

When I ordered tickets to ride Thomas at 9:45 AM, I failed to realize that was the morning after prom. And let me tell you, the morning after prom is a lot harder on my 27 year old self than it was my 17 year old self. 

Reese stayed at MeeMaw and PeePaw's while we were gone  There was an attempt to get her to spend the night, but it was a failure. MeeMaw said somewhere around dark she started looking down the driveway calling for her ma-ie. We helped clean up after prom and picked her up by midnight which is a solid 3 hours past Granny's normal bedtime. I made history in my own life when I was so tired I couldn't even take off my makeup before I crashed into bed. I told Adam how I remember reading somewhere (I'm sure it was some magazine that gave (at best) questionable beauty advice) that every time you go to bed with makeup on, you age your face 10 years. Considering how I felt and looked when the alarm went off at 6 Saturday morning, I'd say that information wasn't as questionable as I had once thought it was.

She liked seeing Thomas, but the "jumpy" and the sand box were by far her favorites. Fear coursed through my veins when I realized that we may have to invest in a sand box because it would provide hours of entertainment for her. Why? Because here is a comprehensive list of things I hate (I know hate is a strong word, but it fits the scenario) : 1. needles 2. sand. In that exact order. I go to great links to ensure no sand gets above my ankles at the beach. The thought of it in my very own yard makes me need to breath deeply into a paper bag.

 There is nothing that makes me love motherhood as much as a picture where my baby makes me look 30 pounds heavier by squeezing my face as hard as she can.

On the way home I apparently did something she didn't like: "Ma-ie Caroline not do dat gin!" (Mommy Caroline do not do that again) She thinks everybody's middle name is Caroline. 

I have gotten bad reports from Mrs. Liz 3 days in a row, so Monday night I spanked her with a wooden spoon when she started pitching a fit. Seriously people, I barely tapped her. I can assure you, it hurt me WAY more than it did her. She laid in the floor and cried, "my booty hurt!!" She tends to be a little on the strong willed side and she screams and cries for minutes on end when she doesn't get her way. Liz said it went on for an hour last Thursday. I've been talking to Jesus a lot about it (well, more like begging, pleading) and I really think this is a just a stage. She is two and a half and they don't call them the terrible twos for nothing. I bought a big bag of Lego blocks and the first day I get a good report she will get them. I'm shamelessly bribing her. Please refrain from leaving comments on how that is going to scar her for life. She knows about the blocks and listed off all the things she and her daddy are going to build with them- if she ever gets them. 

When I was telling my parents about all this I told them that I told Liz to put her on the porch and close the door and when she quit crying she could come back in. My daddy went into a rant about how I shouldn't have told her to do that because what if something got her outside: 

Me: "Like what, daddy? She will be on Liz's back porch." 

PeePaw: "I don't know. A hawk might swoop down and get her." 

Clearly he is an asset to me on getting advice about how to discipline my daughter. And he isn't at all dramatic. You can now stop wondering where I get some of my paranoia/ need to overreact. This brought to mind one of my favorite parts of Father of the Bride when George explained to future son-in-law Bryan the heritage to which he was about to wed...

"You know, Bryan, Annie's a very passionate person. And passionate people tend to overreact at times. Annie comes from a long line of major over-reactors  Me. I can definitely lose it. My mother. A nut. My grandfather. Stories about him were legendary. The good news, however, is that this overreacting... tends to get proportionately less by generation. So, your kids could be normal." 

It might as well have been my daddy speaking those words to Adam because no truer words have ever been spoken. And I say that with a great deal of love and affection toward my family.

Last week we were "atside" playing and out of the corner of my eye I saw something. Was it? Could it be? No. No way. Except for yep it sure was. A snake. IN THE YARD! STEPS AWAY FROM MY INNOCENT BABY! I panicked. Called Adam, no answer. Called my daddy, no answer. Which, after this event, no longer surprises me when I can't get an answer. So at that point I was just in a stare off with said snake while I threatened Reese's life if she put one toe off that trampoline I was going to whip her all the way down the driveway. I continued calling random people that I thought could help me. Then my knight and shinning armor drove up, said he couldn't believe I even saw the snake, (Note to self: 1. don't send Reese outside alone with him.2. get his eyes checked) and chopped the little rattlers head off with a shovel. Which was exact what I had planned to do...NEVER. I was thinking more along the lines of the pistol. Either way it is dead, but the fact that it has a mother and father somewhere is heavy on my heart.

*She finally got the blocks Tuesday afternoon. All night she repeatedly told me, "I get roll (tootsie roll) I poop in the potty. I get bwoks (blocks) I not cry at Bezebeth's (Elizabeth's)!"

I adore this picture. Here is to hoping that, one day, she gets as lucky as her momma got;)

Easter 2013

When I was little Easter meant one thing: my momma dragging me around to every store in the Oxford, Anniston, Gasden area searching high and low for a dress we could both agree on. If memory serves me, a brawl almost broke out in the Kids Depot dressing room one year. Looking back on it all, I know exactly why there was such pandemonium: she waited until the DAY BEFORE Easter, people. In recent history have you tried to go shopping on the day before Easter? It will cause you to forget all manner of Eastery thoughts and start looking for a cigarette and a stiff drink. I laugh now, but my day is coming. (Much to my mother's delight.) But for now I get to call all the shots, and in an effort to save my sanity I ordered Reese's Easter dress online back in February.

We went to Sunrise Service at Big Daddy and D.D.'s. Just for funzies let's look back at her previous Easter mornings.

2011- she was bright eyed because that was back when she still got up ridiculously early to drink her bottle.

2012- We finally had her trained to sleep late, and she couldn't get her eyes to open. And, oh my heart, she still had her paci....and it was upside down.

2013- Her hair, oh her hair. There is nothing that can be done with it. Frizzy mess all the time.

Let's back up to Wednesday which was the first day of our so called spring break. Reese whispered in my ear at 6:30 am, "read me a book." We got up and read books, colored, and dressed up her dolls. At 9:30 she said, "I need sompin' to do." To which I suggested that we rest, take a nap, or watch a little of the Today show. Those options didn't seem to interest her. About that same time Allison sent me a text wanting to know if we wanted to go to town. Yes. Yes, ma'am we sure do because it is 9:30 in the morning and my 2.5 year old is bored.

Thursday, after she played kitchen with MeeMaw, we loaded up and went to Guntersville where Adam, Big Daddy, and Uncle G. fished all day Friday and part of Saturday. D.D. and I had the task of entertaining her.

My pictures uploaded all out of order. This was Wednesday night when Reese brought all of her toys to Adam to hold, and insisted he wear her bonnet.

So Friday we stopped for a Snow Biz. She ate every single bite and drank the juice.

She helped drive the boat.

And she wet a line. There was a fish shaped hook on the line (I have not idea what the correct fishing terminology is to use here. I'm sure Adam is dying of shame as he reads this.) Anyway, when she reeled in the line she said, "I caught a fish!" Bless her. She thought it was real.  And I hate to be the one who says this, but that was one fish more than her daddy caught...

P.S. A lure. It's called a lure. It just hit me, and I can't believe I couldn't think of what it was called. Somebody please revive Adam and tell him there is still hope for his wife.


We came home from Guntersville Saturday. I did my best to put aside my OCD tendencies while she colored eggs. (She is eating cheese curls in these pictures and I just noticed there is a box of Nutty Bars in the background. It goes without saying that we are a health conscious bunch.)

The Easter bunny came at a bright and early 5:30 at our house. And we were STILL late to sunrise service.

The Easter bunny brought a doctor kit for Reese at Big Daddy and D.D.'s house. Uncle G. had to get a shot.

Then we headed back home before going to MeeMaw and PeePaw's where the much anticipated turkey and dressing was waiting. By nothing less than an act of God she took a 3 hour nap when we got home. I wept tears of joy.

If only we had made a different family picture I would use it because momma? Momma looks tired. Real tired.

If you are friends with MeeMaw on Facebook then you know this, but Chinney has gone on to live in that big dog pen in the sky. It was a sad day. I won't go into the details of his untimely death, but a coyote was involved. My parent, oh my parents. I witnessed with my own eyes those 2 doing things for that dog they probably would have never done for one of us children. (My mother will deny that, but it is the truth and I have plenty of witnesses to back me up.) Reese will forever think he is "missing." She has asked about him a hundred times. Little Chinney Worth, you will be missed. I hope they are feeding you warm filet mignon and wrapping you up in blankets on the cold nights, just like your mother did.

There is not one picture with MeeMaw and PeePaw because I heard my mother grumbling something along the lines of she had been up cooking since some ridiculous hour and hadn't even had time to put on her makeup, so I left it at that and didn't even request a picture.

I'm not trying to end this on a sad note, but I saw this last week and it possibly made a tear run down my face because it is ever so true. Most days I feel like her whole baby/childhood is slipping away while I'm at work (and it is), so I should slow down at home more often and not worry about the dishes, the laundry, and the home cooked meal I feel like my people deserve to get. (Maybe if it gets bad enough Adam will tell me to quit work;))

Willie and Uncle Si

I wrote this over a week ago, but forgot to post it. And to think there are people in my life (I'm looking at you Adam) who think that I've become scattered and unorganized. Ha.

We had a full day Saturday. Kronospan (Adam's work) hosted an Easter hunt. Naturally it was pouring down rain that morning with a little lightening and "funda" (thunder), which never seems to happen on a day that I have nowhere to go. Due to the inclement weather it was moved to the community center. And let me tell you, there is nothing like an Easter egg hunt in the middle of a gym floor;)

 She was supposed to push the egg with her nose, but she just stared at the others as if there was no chance she was getting her Easter frock dirty crawling around on the floor.

We rushed home and packed her bag for her day o' fun with D.D. and Big Daddy while Adam and I went to Montgomery to see Willie and Uncle Si. The last time she had a spend the night party planned this happened, so I had my doubts she would spend the night. 

Adam and I had a lovely day of Easter bunny shopping followed by dinner at Carrabba's. I had almost forgotten what it was like to eat at an establishment that doesn't have a play area. It was great. Not one time did a little person yell for us to "all together look at me!" Oh, but we talked about her the whole time;)

So about Willie and Si. I hate to say this because we have an undying love for them, but Adam was disappointed. His favorite part was the Goat Hill String Band that performed prior to Willie and Si. I thought it was good, but I already knew most of the things they talked about because I have read their book. I didn't take my camera so this was the best my phone could do. Willie is walking on the stage and Si is sitting in a chair to the right. 

You'd judge me if you knew how many times we took a picture trying to get a decent one. It was getting ridiculous so we just had to go with one. 

When we left Montgomery, we talked to Big Daddy and D.D. who assured us that she had not mentioned our names one time. A few minutes later we got the call that when D.D. tried to put a diaper on her (which is the signal for bedtime) she said, "Ma-ie, Daddy come get me." She was clearly making the statement that we were coming to get her, not asking. Soon after that she fell asleep. We called when we got closer to be sure she was going to spend the night. She was sound asleep. We drove right on past their house. Ten minutes later we get the call that she woke up crying, wanting to know where we were so we turned around and went back. I'm thinking that we are roughly 1 to 3 years away from her actually spending the night away, and to be honest that is okay with me because my world is a little off its axis when she isn't with us.