Boyd Wright is here!

Arrived: February 7, 2012 at 9:51 p.m.

Weight: 10 pounds, 5.5 ounces (true story)

Length: 20 1/4 inches (although I watched the nurse measure him and his leg was not even close to being flat on the paper and I’m convinced he’s at least one inch longer than the recorded measurement).

The little big guy was born two days past his due date.  We decided to induce if he wasn’t born by then.  My doctor was on call that day and we really wanted her to oversee the whole process.

For the four weeks prior to that day I had been dilated to a one.  I arrived at the hospital and just knew I would be told I was well on my way to a three or four.

No such luck.  I was still a one.

An hour and a half after they officially induced me, I was a 2 1/2.  We all thought it was just a matter of time before things really started happening.

No such luck.  After 14 hours of labor, I was STILL a 2 1/2.

My doctor was doubtful that continuing pitocin was going to do anything more to help me out.  My body and my baby were just not cooperating.  She was afraid that continuing would put me at risk for infection and could potentially stress the baby out.  She put the ball in our court and asked whether or not we were ready to consider a c-section.

It was a tough decision to make.  Trav and I prayed and talked about it and really felt it was the best decision for us at that point.  We felt peaceful about it and called them back in to get the “party” started.

51 minutes later, Boyd was born.

Hearing that sweet little cry was music to my ears.  It brought back such sweet memories of hearing Arle’s first cry and brought such excitement that I was now a mommy to two littles.

He was safe and he was healthy.

A perfect little chunk of sweetness.

Everyone in the delivery room was in shock at how big he was.  My doctor immediately said, “Heather, he has your big head just like you said he would!”

As for my recovery, things are going well.  I’m still a bit sore and pretty bruised up, but nothing some pain meds can’t deal with.  Trav’s been home to fill the role of homemaker all week and has been a super-duper Mr. Mom.  It’s been so fab to have our new little family of four all home together for this long.  It’s definitely made the transition so much easier.

We are all head over heels in love with Boyd.  He’s an absolute angel baby.

Fab sleeper.

Fab eater.

Super fab cuddler.

And he’s REALLY good at pooping, too.

One last thing…

Remember how I had grand plans of having perfectly coiffed hair and my makeup in place for the birth of my son?  Well, this is how I started out my labor:

Unfortunately, my hair and makeup went down the tubes as the day went on and on and on.  I was looking pretty rough by the time Boyd made his grand entrance…Yikes:

A huge thanks to all of you for your prayers throughout this process.  They’ve meant the world to us and we’ve felt so supported every step of the way.


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Snoring And Stuff.

Well, folks.

Here we are.  Three days before my due date and things are pretty quiet.

I was convinced that I was going to have this baby last Saturday.  Contractions were coming on frequently for five hours straight last Friday night.  I was so convinced it was time that I missed movie night with Trav and Arle to go upstairs and take a shower because, by golly gee wiz, I’m going to have fabulous hair and smooth legs when I deliver this child.

I have priorities, folks.

But, alas, all came to a screeching halt around midnight.  The contractions stopped so Trav and I went to bed.

I really don’t know why I even try to sleep right now, though.  It’s not the easiest or most pleasant task in the world.  Yes, it’s difficult to get comfy, but truthfully that’s not the main obstacle in drifting off to the sweet land of zzzzzzzzs.

The real problem is this:  I snore like a banshee these days.

It’s sad, but true.

I snore so loudly that I wake myself up.

Obviously, Trav’s sleep is interrupted, too.  He’s taking it like a champ, but I know he’s annoyed.  I’m honestly shocked that he’s still sharing a bed with me at this point.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt less attractive in all my life as I do when I realize I’m snoring like a lumberjack.

Oh well.

It’s worth it.

I’m just praying that it’s an actual pregnancy symptom and that it goes away when I’m no longer preggers and am able to sleep on my tummy again.


In other news, if I don’t have this baby by next Monday evening, I’ll go in for a Tuesday morning induction.  The doctor feels that will have given the not-so-little guy plenty of marination time and is comfortable going in that direction at that point.

So excited to meet him and kiss those sweet not-so-little cheeks.

By the way, thanks for all of your sweet comments about the nursery.  I love to go in there and just rock and stare and imagine snuggling our new addition.  Arle does the same thing and it’s absolutely precious.

‘Til next time, toodles.



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Boyd’s Digs.

The question du jour seems to be, “Is the nursery ready???”

I’m pleased to finally be able to say, “Yes!”

Or maybe I should be honest and say, “Pretty much.”

I have not been able to find a bumper that I love.  The problem here is that I couldn’t just find a ready-made crib set that I loved. I wanted something more modern and that didn’t have modes of transportation or animals all over it.  Evidently that’s a hard thing to find when it comes to boy bedding.

I went out on my own and fell in love with this fabric for a crib skirt and this sheet.  I really want a plain linen colored bumper but have had zero luck finding one.

As for furniture, we re-used Arle’s crib, rocker, and ottoman.  The bookcase, changing table, and side-table were all found on the most productive flea market excursion EVER.  Bethany and I both came home with major First Friday loot on our latest adventure down to the West Bottoms.

In order to give you the best view of the mostly-finished product, Bethany brought her fancy-schmancy camera over to take pics of Boyd’s new digs.  She’s too good to me.

I love how it all came together.

The prints above the crib are from the calendar Trav and I had back in 2004.  They’re advertisements from the London Underground and we’ve held onto them all these years just waiting for the perfect place for them.

The large red “B” came from Stuff in Brookside here in Kansas City.  The adorable “I’ve loved you from the start” print was a gift from our sweet friends, Laura and Eric.

The car print above the changing table is from this Etsy shop.  I put it on my Christmas list and my awesome bro-in-law came through with it.  Thanks, B.


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Maternal Musings.

It’s hard to believe, but the calendar reports that I am actually 38 weeks and 5 days along.  According to our latest ultrasound, the babe is one big boy.  Especially his head.  Three days ago it measured one day shy of 42 weeks .  That’s how heads in my family come, so it really wasn’t too much of a surprise.

It seems to be going by so quickly.  I’m sure a huge part of this is due to the fact that it’s been such an easy pregnancy.  Praise the Lord for that.  So incredibly grateful.

I’ve done an extremely poor job of keeping track of the this and that from the last 34 weeks, so I thought I would jot down a few things to remember this experience.

Cravings:  Tillamook Cheddar Cheese and Multi-grain Club Crackers have been the one constant here.  It’s what I eat for lunch almost every day, along with some sort of fruit.  Lest you think I’m some sort of health nut, I’ll also confess the delight I take in Dr. Pepper in a can and homemade snicker doodles.

Foods that gross me out:  Salads and chicken, but only if made in my own kitchen.  Not sure what the deal is with these, but they’re both things I normally love but just can’t take in my current state.

Weight gain to date: 30 pounds.  Here’s to hoping I drop it quickly.

Favorite maternity clothes:  Gap’s Pure Body t’s are pretty much what I’ve lived in.  They’re sooooo comfortable and I doubt I’ll stop wearing them even postpartum.  I’ve pretty much just layered my regular cardigans and jackets over the top of these in order to feel a bit more “put together.”

I have one pair of Gap boot cut jeans that I wear with heels and a pair of Gap skinny jeans to wear with flats.  I look ridiculous when I wear the skinny jeans, but I’ve just learned to deal with it.

Really though, I only wear the above when I’m out and about somewhere that requires me to look somewhat decent.  Otherwise I absolutely live in black velour yoga pants and the matching hoodie my parents gave me from A Pea In The Pod.  It’s the most comfy thing I own and I LOVE it.  I’m sure Trav would love to burn it after I give birth.  He has to be so sick of seeing me in it.

Thing I’ve loved most about being pregnant:  Feeling the little guy move.  It’s the most incredible thing ever and I adore it.  I especially love it when Trav or Arle feel it, as well.  So amazing.

Things I’ve liked the least about being pregnant:  I had a brief bout with prenatal carpal tunnel syndrome at 32 weeks, which was totally bizarre.  It lasted five days and my doctor said it probably would last until delivery.  It was horribly painful and I was not looking forward to 8 more weeks of it.  Trav prayed for me that night and I woke up feeling 100% better.

Again, praise the Lord.

The only other pregnancy thing I’m not a fan of is my ginormous “booms” (as Arle calls them).  Wowzers.  I know some girls dream of hitting it big in the chest department, but that’s something I’ve never desired.  I’ve always been happy as a clam with my average-sized set and don’t really know how to handle the large and in charge pair I’m toting around these days.  They’re seriously on the verge of obscene.

Thankfully, though, those are my only complaints.  I’ll take my carpal tunnel and big booms and thank the Lord those are the only things I have on the list.

Nursery status:  Stay tuned.  Hoping to post pics of the room tomorrow.

Here’s a belly pic from 37 weeks that my sweet, sweet, sweet friend, Bethany, took.


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I Think She’s A Natural.

In addition to the big shower this past weekend, we also had the privilege of attending Arle’s very first ballet recital.  The first of many, I hope.

Her Grammy, Nana, and Lebo made the trek all the way from New Mexico for the big show and our sweet friends, Evan and Jessie made the trek all the way from KC, MO.

Arle seems to be quite the natural when it comes to ballet.  I mean, she’s only about 3 1/2 steps behind on the choreography, which seems to be pretty impressive at this stage in the game.  Am I right, or am I right?

If she does continue with this whole ballet bit, her momma’s gonna have to learn a bit of self-control.  I was a ridiculous mess through the whole routine.  I snuck up to the front to snap pics and was doing well for the first 4.8 seconds.

Then I got teary-eyed.

Then I got hysterical. Laughing hysterical, not upset hysterical.

I’m not sure what happened, but I suddenly went from sentimental tears about my baby growing up and dancing in her first recital to laughing uncontrollably through the rest of the performance.  I was so embarrassed but I seriously couldn’t get a hold of myself.  Fortunately it was such a hard-core laugh that it was silent, but it was NOT without buckets of laughing tears running down my face.

What’s wrong with me???  What kind of mother laughs throughout her daughter’s first on-stage performance???

I mean, a bunch of three and four-year-old girls dancing to Pretty Little Angel Eyes and all doing their own rendition of the actual choreography is hilarious in my book, so I’m just going with it.

Anyway, Arle had a ball and thought the whole thing was fabulous from beginning to end.  Not a bit of stage fright for this kiddo.  She never thought twice about going on with the show.

Her friends Kate and Hannah were in the class with her and they were all so stikin’ cute at the recital.

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When I moved to Kansas City seven and a half years ago, I had no friends here.  We knew no one.

I remember praying and praying and praying that the Lord would bless us with amazing friends.

Man, did He ever come through on the answer for that one.

A group of these fab friends decided to throw me a baby shower.  A FABULOUS baby shower.  So creative, so delicious, so fun, so EVERYTHING.

Meet the hostesses (minus Rachel-we missed you, Rachel!)…

Christine, Kristin F., Kristen L., Jami, Kristin L., and Jessie (Dearest Christine, Rachel, and Jessie, start blogging and you TOO can have your name hyper-linked!!).

These girls went all out with an adorable bee-themed shower. B = Bee.  B = Boy.  And B = Boyd, the name of the sweet little nugget growing by the second in my belly.  Boyd is my maiden name and the name we’ve wanted to use for our first son for a LONG time.

Delicious eats and yummy drinks were served up to all the guests.  Jami pretty much re-decorated her entire house in order for the whole thing to look the part.  She even made homemade beeswax lip balm as party favors.  How she fits these sorts of things into her crazy schedule of being a mommy to three littles, I’ll never know.

Here are some more pics from the super-duper-fun day…

Thanks, girls, for a fabulously fun day.  You mean the world to me and I’m so grateful for each of you.

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Stars Wars Isn’t Totally Dead To Her.

A couple of posts ago, I talked about how Arle is so over Star Wars bedtime stories.  Lots of peeps assumed that she was over Star Wars all together.

Au contraire mon frere.

She and Trav still spend LOTS of time pretending the Force is with them.

How did Arle get into Star Wars, you ask?

Trav’s parents saved all of his SW toys from his childhood and delivered boxes full of them to our casa two years ago. At the time, I couldn’t imagine them ever seeing the light of day again.

But then Arle was staying with our friends Evan and Jessie one night.  They were trying to find a show for her to watch on t.v. and stumbled upon a Star Wars episode of Family Guy.  They thought all cartoons = kid shows and let her watch it.  She talked about it for weeks and Trav began telling her more and more about the real deal Star Wars.

And then, just when Arle thought her daddy couldn’t get any more fantastic, he began dragging his childhood toys out of the boxes in the basement one by one.


As Halloween costume talk began this year, Arle decided she wanted to be Princess Darth Vader.


She seems to have a thing for emasculating famous men (remember Snuggly Princess Elmo?).

One of her boy buddies told her she couldn’t be that because Darth Vader is a boy.  She was convinced he was right for a few weeks, but then decided she didn’t care what he said and went with it.

The result was pretty awesome, in my opinion.

I found some inspiration on Pinterest and then got busy.  I made a tutu out of hot pink and black tulle, the buttons on her shirt out of duct tape, and glued and huge tiara onto a DV mask.

Easy peasy.

The glitzy heels were Arle’s touch.

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