Lost & Found.

Evidently I have a blog that I seem to have forgotten about.  Or lost.  Or possibly ignored.

I’ve been using the excuse that my laptop was broken.  Again.  But it’s been fixed for a week now and I’m just now blogging.

I hijacked Trav’s laptop on a regular basis in order to do important things like surf Pinterest and such.  Why didn’t I blog during those moments on the computer?

I think it’s because I’m afraid that I’m going to turn into the blogger that gets pregnant and then only ever blogs about being pregnant.

Leftover scars from 6 1/2 years of infertility, I suppose.

I realize now, though, that those girls were just excited.  And that’s great.  I was excited for them.  Honestly, I was.

But I was also always reminded of the fact that I desperately wanted to be pregnant but wasn’t.

Now I am actually pregnant and THRILLED to be so.  But I also want to be sensitive to those who desperately want to be, but are not.

So I go to an extreme and just don’t blog at all.

I’m dumb, I know.

So in an effort to get back into the blogosphere,  I decided to do a photo dump from my phone.

Warning to those of you on Instagram:  You’ve already seen 99% of these, so feel free to excuse yourself at any moment and go do something more productive with your life like pinning some new recipes on Pinterest or something equally entertaining.

Just a few of my faves.

This is what happens on the drive home after you let a four-year-old stay up until 11:30pm partying with her friends Logan and Maddox.

Arle wanted to dress me up for a Christmas Ball one evening.  All of my hair accessories, jewelry, and makeup were her doing.  Lovely.

One weekend we walked to the park.  Miss Priss and Trav climbed a tree together.  Isn’t her hair fabulous???  It’s her post-braids look and I love it.

Here’s my almost 24-week belly.  And our filthy bathroom mirror.  I’ve cleaned it since then.

Arle’s first field trip = her first bus ride.  I went as a volunteer.  My hearing will never be the same.  I do NOT remember buses being so loud.

Miss is taking ballet on Mondays.  She’s a natural ;)

This last pic is from WAAAAAAAY back in May and was taken by Trav’s brother while we were at a dance club in Mexico during their sister’s wedding.  I don’t know why I love it so, but I do.  Fun times had by all.


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Star Wars Is So Last Week

Remember a while back when I told you about Arle’s Star Wars obsession? 

Part of the obsession included frequent requests for Star Wars bedtime stories from her daddy.  That all came to a screeching halt tonight. 

Trav came downstairs laughing, after tucking Miss Priss into bed.  Here’s the conversation that went down just minutes before.

Arle:  I’ve forgotten about Star Wars stories.  I’ve put them out of my mind.  I don’t want those anymore.  I still like the movies, I just don’t want the stories anymore.

Trav:  Ok. 

Arle:  Maybe next time you can tell one about hippies.  Do you know about hippies? 

Trav:  Well, yeah, I guess so. 

Arle:  Are they big or are they small?  Do they walk down the street?  What do they do? 

Trav:  Well, hippies are people.  They dress kind of funny and say things like, “Hey dude.” 

Arle (starting to whimper and fake cry):  I’m scared of hippies!

Where does this child come up with these things????

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19 Weeks.

So Bethany twisted my arm, held a gun to my head, and forced me to take more bump pictures last Thursday.  She’s a good friend like that.  It’s a good thing she’s going to such extremes because I wouldn’t have all of this, uh, growth documented. 

And is it just me or is the bump a bit large for 19 weeks? I know girls that you can’t even tell are pregnant this early on.  I still can camoflauge it with the right clothes, but put something tight on me and there’s no denying that something’s going on here.  From what the doctor tells me, I’m growing quickly because of a few reasons…1. baby boy’s growing almost two weeks ahead of schedule (wahoo!), 2. the tilt of my uterus, and 3. the location of my placenta. 

I’ll gladly take it all. 

It’s a fun and friendly reminder that I’M PREGNANT!  Let’s not forget what a miracle this whole thing is. 

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Fun Times With Fun Girls.

Please, oh please, tell me you read Jami’s blog.  If you don’t, you’re definitely missing out.

First of all, she’s so freaking hilarious.

Secondly, she’s so freaking creative.  She can make ANYTHING…as long as Crisco’s not involved.  She loathes Crisco.  Passionately loathes Crisco.

Thirdly, she’s so freaking honest.  Doesn’t matter if she’s talking about how she and her husband’s marriage survived adultery, or how hard it is to be a mom, or her feelings on Crisco.  The girl’s honest and I love her for it.

Anyway, Jami had a fabulous idea to invite a bunch of fabulous ladies over to do a fabulous craft.

It was fabulous.

This is what I came home with to hang on my door.


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Is Arle Excited?

Thank you all for the sweet comments on my last post!  I loved reading through each and every one of your words.  Your excitement just adds to ours.

The most common question we’ve received from peeps is this, “Is Arle excited about it being a boy?”

The answer.  Kind of.

One thing you have to know about Arle is that she is one of the MOST competitive girls you will EVER meet in your ENTIRE life.  I’m not joking.  I thought I was competitive until Arle came along and showed me what it really means to be described as such.

She hates to lose.  She hates to be wrong.  She hates to not know how to do something perfectly the very first time.

Perhaps we have some pride issues at the ripe age of four?

She was absolutely 100% convinced it was a girl and I was absolutely 100% convinced it was a boy.

We broke the news to her with ice cream.  Trav picked it up on his way home from work.  She knew that if she was presented with pink ice cream it was a girl, and blue equaled boy.

She was so excited to dig into her pink ice cream.  Until she removed the cover and saw it was blue.

“Oh, it’s a boy,” she said with fake excitement in her voice.  At first I thought she truly was disappointed, but it soon became increasingly clear that she was way more disappointed about being wrong than she was about the mere fact that the baby is a boy.

Arle:  “Mommy the next time you have a baby in your belly, will you say that it’s a girl and I’ll say it’s a boy?”

Me:  “Why?  Is that just so you can be right?”

Arle:  “Yes.”  (you’ve gotta admire her honesty)

Me:  “But what if it really is a girl next time?”

Arle:  silence coupled with a look of complete defeat spread across her face. Then she busts out with, “I don’t even really like boys.”

Me:  Oh really?  What about Cade?  And David?  And Nate?  And Quinn?

Arle:  Well, I mean I like friends that are boys.  (And then as Travis enters the room) And I like Daddy Boy.

So, it took her a while to warm up to the idea that she was wrong.  I do think she’s genuinely excited still just because there’s a real live baby on the way.

And yesterday at Hobby Lobby she spotted a blue photo album with an old school pram embroidered on the cover that she just had to buy for “baby brother.”

I felt like that was a step in the right direction until she exclaimed that she was going to fill it with pics of herself.

I’m afraid we have a serious case of Only Child Syndrome on our hands.  Eek.

Should be interesting to watch that play out when February rolls around.

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I Love Today.

Reasons I love today:

1.  Arle had her first day of 4-year-old pre-school.  She was so excited to get back into the swing of things and had a fabulous time being back with some of her friends from last year and meeting new peeps, as well. Doesn’t she look so grown up???

2.  The weather in KC is GORGEOUS!!!  70’s??  Yes, please!  It was so perfect out that I walked Arle to school then walked to Starbucks for a morning pick-me-up.

3.  While at Starbucks I was greeted with a beautiful chalkboard informing the masses that Pumpkin Spice Lattes are back on the menu.  Yippy ki yay!   I heart fall.

4.  Last, but certainly NOT least…I had an ultrasound today and we now know the sex of this little peanut.  I’ve been so anxious and excited about this day.  They did a level 2 ultrasound that measured and checked out every single thing possible.  Everything looked absolutely perfect, praise the Lord!

So, for all of you who are interested in knowing what kind of “front hiney” we saw on the screen…





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She’ll Shoot You Straight.

Yesterday, Arle and I went to Destination Maternity to exchange a top my sweet mom sent me that didn’t exactly fit my ever expanding bust.

I found lots of pants to try on while Arle was happily playing outside the fitting room in the kiddo area.  I tried on a really cute pair of beat up jeans that had some holes in them, but decided I wanted to try on the next size up.

I walked out of the fitting room to search for the size and Arle wasted no time chasing me down for a serious confrontation.

Arle:  You need to go back in that room right this minute and take those jeans off.

Me:  Why do I need to do that?

Arle:  Because they are teared and you are NOT a teenager!

Wow.  That hurts.

But oh so true.

I took my four-year-old’s advice, took the jeans off, and never looked back.

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