It's going to rain on her parade...

Here is James Spann's weather blog post for our birthday bash on Saturday...

SATURDAY SOAKER: Wet weather will headline the forecast for Alabama as the weekend begins. The GFS (U.S.), ECMWF (European), and GEMS (Canadian) models all show potential for a good soaker for the state, with rain amounts of 1 to 2 inches likely, and maybe even a little more in spots. The rain should begin early in the day, maybe even before daybreak over Northwest Alabama. While there could be a few breaks in the rain, it sure looks like a good 5 to 7 hours of rain during the day, with potential for some thunder as well (but no severe weather is expected).

My rational side knows that James Spann is not in control of the weather, but my irrational side wants to slap him right now anyway. (Just kidding James, we love you.)

They are also not expecting it to get out of the 70s which poses a problem considering we had a water slide reserved for Saturday. Thankfully, the rental people allowed me to exchange it for a bounce house instead. We haven't exactly broken that little bit of news to Reese yet. She is so excited because "der gonna be a hurge wata slide at my party."  She also told me yesterday that she wants chicken fingers for her birthday. That's my girl. She certainly gets her love of poultry products from me.

So, if you are reading this and are coming to the party, please disregard the part on the invitation that mentioned swimsuits.

PS. This has opened a can of worms I have been able to keep the lid on for quite some time now: Adam and his uncontrollable desire to remodel or build a new house. He is just sure that this is a sign from the Lord that we need a new house with a garage for these type situations. He was talking about this Tuesday afternoon (just as he does almost every day) and Reese said, "I don't wanna a new house. I love my house." And with that statement he looked at me with a glare in his eyes and swore I taught her to say that, which I did none of the sort. BUT, good news A-master, many more raining-on-her-birthday events such as this one and I will not only be on board the new house bandwagon- I will be driving it.

Tiny dancer (Or bench warmer. Whatever.)

Three years ago when the sonogram was administered and we were notified that I was, in fact, going to pay for my raisin' by getting a daughter, this was the exact mental picture I had...pigtails and a leotard. 

Actually, she is so much more than I ever expected. She is fiery and strong willed with just enough of her daddy in her to make her sweet and funny.  

The excitement that she showed when I picked her up at daycare quickly waned when we walked into the ballet room for her first class. She latched onto to me with a fierceness that caused circulation to my brain to be cut off. After that point, very little ballet took place. She became more of the bench warmer.

I slowly got her onto the floor and at every opportunity I saw, I would back away a little. About 30 minutes into the class she was far enough away that I could actually make a picture without part of my body being in it.

Then she realized I was gone and she came running back to me, so I started inching away all over again.

And with about 5 minutes left in class, she let Allison take her over to all of the action.

 AND THEN...there was this moment.

She smiled. It gave me the tiniest speck of hope that she might actually buy into this dance/ballet/tumbling thing after all.  

She really came to life when they gave out a color sheet and crayons.

Clay is playing jr high football this year, which delights my soul. I had already told her before dance that we would be going to the ball game after dance was over. Throughout the whole class she kept whispering in my ear, "I weady to go to da football game." I believe Adam's exact words were, "That's my girl. More worried about football than dance." 

And in other news (that will not surprise my husband)- I have lost my ever loving mind. Last week it took me over 5 minutes to think of my school email address. This is my 3rd year with that same email, but I couldn't, for the life of me, remember it. The first day of school I packed my little lunch box at the bright and early hour of 6 AM. The closer to lunch it got, the more excited I got about that banana sandwich that was waiting on me. (Yeah, yeah I know. Chubby was hungry.) It was a devastating reality when I sat down at the lunch table and realized I had left the banana at home. At this point I am so afraid that I am going to leave my daughter somewhere.    

P.S. I received the news yesterday afternoon that the virus has made its way to daycare. The first throw up outbreak is ALWAYS right around her birthday. Please join me in prayer that if we must get it, we get it soon and get it over with. There's a blow up water slide coming to our house next Saturday that I'd hate to see go to waste due to the virus. 

28

What can be better than your birthday being on pay day, on a holiday weekend, and on the first weekend of football season? Nothing, that's what.

Honestly, turning 28 started off way more like I would have expected 78 to start off. I got out of bed that morning, something happened that I can't explain, and I fell in the floor. Well. It was more like I splattered across the floor.

Here's the story.

It was 4:11 AM. I am jolted away by a terrible racket over the baby monitor. Reese immediately broke into a shrieking cry. Adam jumps up and runs toward her room. I get up as quickly as you would expect a 7 month pregnant woman to be able to. I'm not exactly sure what happened at this point, but I know that I was moving quickly (I wouldn't call it running) through the house and right before I made the turn into her bedroom I splattered across the floor. And time stood still. Reese was still doing the shrieking cry somewhere in the background, I was partially on my knees and side, and my pinky finger was under the front tire of a pink cozy coupe. And I was very confused as to what had just happened. Then Adam, holding a hysterical Reese who had fallen off the bed, leans down and asked the million dollar question: "what are you doing?" (Clearly, I decided that I needed to get a better look at how dirty the floors are. What am I doing? What kind of question is that?) So later when all the dust settled, we were laying in Reese's bed while she consoled herself with a cup of milk and again...

Adam: What happened?

Me: Well I think that my feet just got ahead of me. Or I'm just front heavy right now. 

Adam: So you ran out of room to land that big bird? 

Me: hysterically laughing because yep, that was exactly what happened. I was coming in for a landing and ran out of space for my big self.

For all concerned persons: Reese was fine after her fall. She had a knot on her head, but she was fine. 

Reese told me on the way to school that, "I put you happy birfday in anvolpe in daddy twuck." 

Some of the kids knew it was my birthday, and I'll have you know that they didn't think I was a day over 26. Which makes me feel better about things because 2 years ago I took up a note being passed in class that said something along the lines of, "Mrs. Robertson is old. She is at least 30 something."

Thursday we had a 4D sonogram done, but she wasn't very cooperative. 

 It looks like she has a lot of toes but it's just her feet propped on top of each other.

Please note that I am not complaining when I say this, but y'all I am tinkering right on the verge of miserable. I am beginning to think this pregnancy things gets worse with each kid. I have said all along that I wasn't going to rush this because I am smart enough this time around to know that they are much easier to take care of while being pregnant with them than they are after they are born, but really people? Just like with Reese, I have an extreme tailbone issue that causes sitting to be painful. I have started swelling which causes standing to be painful. Adam told me last night after he had gotten Reese ready for bed and straightened up around the house that, "I know you are tired and all, but you can't just give up on me." Oh, bless him. He has a long 9 weeks ahead of him.

Side note: I have to include things Reese is saying while they are on my mind or I will forget them. Anytime somebody tells her they saw her doing something (such as "I saw you sliding down that slide." or "I saw you ironing those clothes.") She replies with, "You saw it on Facebook?"

At daycare, Elizabeth tells them to "sit on your biscuit." That is code for sitting on their bottoms. Friday night she was reading a book to me (she holds it up just like Liz does and licks her finger before turning the pages). She lowered the book with a no-so-happy look on her face and told her baby dolls that were in the bed with us, "Kimell (a little girl that goes to daycare), sit on you biscuit and eat you ogurt." And she meant business about it because a few minutes later she said, "Kimell, my momma got a poon. You get a pankin'." Turn me in to DHR if you like, but threatening to spank her with a wooden spoon works wonders. Plus it takes me back to the days of great-grandparents because isn't that how the stories start off about great-grandmomma getting after the kids?

Sunday night we were talking about baby sister coming soon so she can hold her and she told me, "Jesus comin' soon while we sleepin' to get baby sisor out."

Sunday she discovered that Elynn has some newborn diapers in her drawer. I told her she could use 2 of them as diapers for her babies. Adam went to check on her when she got quiet and she had on one of the diapers AND HAD TEE TEED IN IT! I see this and many other baby-product issues in our future. She can't help herself. She loves the baby stuff. 

Ross Bridge

There are going to be multiple parts to my birthday post (and if you don't care and don't read them, I don't blame you) because I don't have enough time in one sitting to tell you everything that I feel like I need to. Plus it would be really long and I don't have the mental energy to tie it all together in one post, so I will start with my favorite part.

Oh, Ross Bridge Resort you officially own my heart and soul. We have said for several years (to be exact, since our first anniversary 5 years ago) that we were going to use one of the teacher discount weekends that I get to go stay there, but for reasons I don't even remember we had never gone until this weekend. For my birthday, Adam set up the reservation for Sunday night.

We waited until Saturday night to tell Reese we were going to go stay at a place with a slide. On Sunday, the closer we got the more times she asked, "We there yet? Where da slide?"

The first few times she went down we had to go with her. When I say "we" I absolutely mean myself as well as Adam. I feel like I have reached the size where I make people a little nervous. I could see the fear in a few peoples eyes that I was going to shut the pool down by going into labor. One guy even told me how impressed he was that the expectant mother was going down the water slide. Anything for the girl, y'all. But after a few time she decided "I do it all by myself."

After all the excitement of the day, she told us she wanted to "pend the night 4 times." That's coming from the kid who cried at bedtime to drive home from the beach.

The pool area had a bar and grill. For convenience, you could open a tab and then everything was charged to your room. Monday morning when they slipped the bill under our door Adam discovered that Reese's snow cone and bag of chips added up to $10. Anything for the girl, y'all.

She woke up a little after 8 and wanted to "look out da window and see if all da peoples awake." She insisted on going straight to the pool where it was lightly misting and a little bit cool. She still had fuzzy hair because she was in too big of a hurry for me to brush it, and she was trying to keep her hands warm. 

We ended the trip like all good birthday weekends should- at Krispy Kreme. (Then I unfortunately had to go to the doctor on Tuesday. I didn't even look at the scale.)