Mother's Day 2013/ 14 weeks

Sundays are always fun at our house. It usually begins with Reese not wanting to get into the tub, then she doesn't want to get out of the tub. This is quickly followed by the argument that she can't wear her pajamas to church, then she doesn't like the dress I have picked out. By the time we arrive at church, Jesus is not happy with some of the thoughts I have had. 

Mother's Day was no different. She didn't want to give me my gift, then she didn't want to take a bath, then she HATED the dress I had picked out because "it too tight!" Of course all of this was topped off by her final act of Mother's Day rebellion: she did not want to have her picture made. If there was one thing I wanted for Mother's Day it was one good picture with my little precious. Two year olds really are a force to be reckoned with, but y'all know I adore her for all of her quirky little ways, and the fact that I probably acted the exact same way when I was 2. 

She is the greatest surprise that I have ever received. I know for a fact that God was laughing the day I found out I was pregnant with her and almost blacked out, then cried for several days. It wasn't that I didn't want a baby, it was that I didn't think I wanted a baby at that exact time. I was so wrong. She's my favorite thing of all time. Being the mamma is WAY more work that I would have ever thought, but it is also WAY better than I ever thought. (And WAY WAY WAY more tiring than I thought.) I love that at this phase in her life she LOVES her mamma, wants to fall asleep with me in her bed with her face touching mine, she wants me to read her a "slow story" (which means she wants one that takes a long time to read), she wants me to "hold juuuuu," she wants us to match (either our nail polish or clothes or whatever- she wants us to look alike), she wakes up during the night and wants "just a wittle bit of mook" (which I am sure will rot her teeth out), gets so excited when I tell her that daddy just pulled up in the driveway, and never wants to spend the night anywhere but in her bed (I know once she does spend the night away it will probably turn into a constant thing, so I'm going to enjoy this). 

She finally brought me my card Sunday morning (with a printed off receipt of a camera lens I had asked for that should be shipped between May 14-17) and said, "Happy Moder's Day. You da best ma-ie in whole world." All that prompted by her daddy of course.  I told Adam when she grows up all she is going to remember is giving me some paper for Mother's Day because every year I get a receipt of something to come; I'm not complaining because it is usually a massage or something of the sort. 

 This was where she refused to have her picture made.

During the Mother's Day program at church, they read a poem that talked about the last time your kids do things and how the mother would have cherished those moments if she would have known it would have been the last time. I had to start thinking about other things while it was read because I was THIS close to the ugly cry. I tried to find it so y'all could cry with me, but to no avail. Trust me, it's one of those things that would make the Tin Man cry. 

And in other news, there was this big milestone this weekend. 

I'm delighted to say that we are officially past the point of previous miscarriage, and after next week I will go to the doctor on a normal 4 week schedule. Since the baby will be over 16 weeks next week, we hopefully will have the big gender reveal. I can't believe we are already at that point, but we are. Adam and I still feel like it is a girl. Reese still says it's a boy. A boy is fine with me because I think Adam needs a fishing buddy for the long run in life (because let's face it, if Reese is anything like her mamma, she will not be touching a nasty worm), but I also think Reese needs a sister for the long run in life because who else is she going to talk about me to when I get old and senile?? So what I mean is either way is fine with us.

And just for funzies a little comparison. I sighed loudly when I saw this picture from my pregnancy with Reese. I never got back into those jeans after Reese, much less wearing them at 14 weeks preggers this time. They still hang in my closet as if there is hope left in their life. Note to self: put those in the yard sale pile. 

Yesterday's sonogram. 

Hand