Gender gender.

It's like that show Sister Sister... but like, not.  Ok.  At all.  That show just bubbled up in my memory though.  Because my mind tends to hold onto things like that instead of like... geography.  Or history, really.  Unless you are talking about pop culture history, or Britney Spears history.  Then, I'm basically a historical genius.

However, if you were talking about the gender of our tiny bean baby, I know what that is, too.  Like really really really early.

My doctors have a tendency towards being overly cautious.  With some cramping (and a cyst on one of my ovaries they had been watching) I went in and got an extra sono... ultra?  Bonus.

Skeletor photo?  check.  Though baby wouldn't cooperate for that.  Who would though?  hello, bad angle!

So all of that to say... we are about to embark on a trip that involves plane rides, car rentals, 3 hour drives, lots of laughs, 3 hour rides back, the aquarium, plane rides and I fear far too few naps.  Should be... interesting.

Then... I'll tell ya what's what.

help me. help you.

I have joined... instagram.  I have no idea how to use this new fangled app.  I hear it's the bomb.  (phrase used to point that my technical knowledge clearly comes from the 90's--so does my desire to have a pink and turquoise caboodle.)

So like... now what?

amandaeblack if you want to be instafriends.

I haven't taken a picture in a year.  And looked at the old ones and they are all of babies and booze.

I also learned how to use the camera on my computer.

Of mice and men.

Today was our community party at the park.  Live music, some vendors, beer (as we were leaving), a bounce house (over taken by middle school kids who I told to watch out for the little ones--I'm that lady), a petting zoo, and face painting.  Plus, lots of friends.

We headed over and I was determined to get G's first face painting done.  Y'all.  It went not well.

She had a friend there who held G's head down.  He was really still and she blamed the awfulness on him moving?  Then as he walked 3 feet from me kept telling me he was "getting away."  My ability to not be rude was being tested.  Especially as we paid our $10... for what i had imagined was going to be this AMAZING puppy dog face.  I was so.  SO wrong.  It cracked me up though.  We seriously could not stop laughing.

Next up.  The petting zoo.

Waiting for our first animal.

Oh dear.  Please don't Lenny the baby chicks.

Or the bunny.  He didn't know what to do with them so he just held them.

Hi, Giggy Pig.  My name's Griffin.  

Notice those puppy dog ears?  Yah... me either.

He is ridiculously cute.  Kind of ridiculous.

The life of a domestic goddess.

I'm not entirely sure what that's like, but I decided to try it on.  Meh?  seems like a lot of clean up.  I've been sickers.  Ew.  The kind of sick when you are fully aware that you are being a bad parent because you let your child have juice and watch 800 years of tv and hope that they don't want to... go outside.  And when they tell you that they don't want their diaper changed you aren't up for the fight or the struggle so you just let it go.  Then your husband asks, "is your diaper full or do you have elephantiasis of the testicles?"  And you just kind of shrug your shoulders.  you also go to whole foods to get chicken noodle soup (that you only like when sick) and check out and there... at the checkout are "apple pie shooters."  Yes, please.  I'll take 3.

I stayed home yesterday.  Then I super cleaned our bathroom.  Then today... I made TWO pinterest recipes.  Two.  And cleaned up.  Wowsas.  We also only had diaper changes, and less tv, and the great outdoors until the west nile was settling in.

SO here are the recipes.

Strawberry muffins.  They were... meh?

Oatmeal, PB, and banana protein bar things.  They are dericious and SUPER easy.  

I also did laundry.  Someone buy this woman a present.

Fashion emergency.

I have a wedding coming up in which we were instructed to not wear heels.  This apparently makes me incapable of getting dressed for a wedding.  That, and my maternity dresses look ridiculous because they are too big, and my normal dresses look ridiculous because, well, lets be honest... they don't fit.  SO PANIC.

What do I do?  It's the last week of September in Tennessee.  It could be chilly at night (it's outside.)  It's with people I RARELY get to see (well, except on our yearly girls trip.)  Help.  I want to make the right choice.  I want to have something that will last through pregnancy.

Why yes, this is fully sequined.

It's also short... and I'm chasing a toddler.

I clearly didn't get the rouching right.  Hello thighs.

15 week belly

This one is actually for my 10 year homecoming for college.  Imagine with red scarf, red purse and adorable child and  husband.

Also imagine this is at 5 months instead of 4.

I love the sequined one.  I can't keep all of them.  A gay  man told me it was fabulous.  Practicality wise... I know what the right thing might be.  Le sigh.  Help me.

Dr. Ben Black loves beer.

A lot.

He also likes welding.

But mostly beer.

He feels certain that he will be famous if I post his blog on here.  So, please, go give him some love, and we'll give you some beer.

He also loves whiskey diet.  And whiskey.  And scotch.  And a good vino.  lets be honest, he also will drink a not good vino.

He's very accommodating.

Buy it for looks.

Buy it for life.

We did actually get a new facet... for our new kitchen.  yet to be pictured.  Look how helpful G$ is?

hell has frozen over.

I know this because we went to church (in Austin) and because it's raining in Austin.  Yes, I work for a church organization.  Yes, I actually worked AT a church...twice.  However, alllll of our family is elsewhere.  And, to be honest, we enjoy lazy Sundays.  The thing is, we both miss having a church fam, and we get up early anyway.  Today we again embarked on the adventure of finding "our" church.  And, it's rained a metric arse ton so clearly, hell (if you're into that kind of thing) has frozen over.  I don't have an umbrella because it hasn't rained in like 2 years.

Technically I probably have a couple somewhere... in the garage.  Which means I don't have one.  I was judged by one old lady.  I should have told her I was much more concerned about my boots than my child getting a little wet.  I didn't think that would go over very well, though so I just said I didn't have one.

awful picture at 14.5 weeks.

Also, it turns out that getting your child to say poopy... way easier than saying cheese.  Turns out... you shouldn't teach them that.  Also, it turns out that 14.5 week pictures are hideous.  Just sayin.

It also turns out that I have entered the gateway drug of ice cream as I bought 3 kinds at the grocery store.  Plus heath bar klondike bars.  And we had queso for dinner.  Yah, I just said that.  For DINNER.  It had meat and black beans and was only 2% cheese.  I say success.

Maybe I'm too cynical? or too add?

for natural childbirth?  I’m interested.  I’m interested in it to an extent.  That extent might mean that I’m only in labor for under 5 hours.  I think 5 hours might be the point where I say screw it.  I’m a lady of standards.  However, my sister (the one who just miracle birthed my nephew in like 2.5 seconds,) lent me her “hypnobirthing” book.  I have another “friend” on fb who I’ve seen is a hypnobirth coach.  So, I’m interested.  However, I began to read this book and wonder if this person had ever actually birthed a human being before? 

Glammy, miracle fast baby Kellen, and G$ giving him a kiss

She has all of these words to replace the typical words.  Like “birth breathing” instead of pushing.  “Uterine waves” instead of contractions.  I am to close my eyes when having one of these waves so that my partner knows that I’m experiencing it (as I visualize a rosebud opening) and my partner is to stroke my arm while repeating some phrases on a card that you need to buy extra because the phrases aren’t printed in this book… just a supplement.  (Please note there is also a supplement that has the words “rainbow reading” or some other sort of nonsense in the title.)  So I told Ben this and had him stroke my arm.  I didn’t feel relaxed at all.  Then I thought back to my previous experience of my baby ripping himself from my insides (the pain coming from my lack of knowledge, obvi… and from my own birth story) and my eyes were indeed closed during those “waves” of uncomfortableness.  They weren’t closed when Ben calmly asked me while I was writhing in pain on the bed, “Do you think you’re having contractions?”

The face of drugs.  Look how tired I am already?

What he SHOULD have said is, “I see from your eyes being closed and your visioning that you are experiencing a uterine wave.  I will stroke your arm while this happens.  I’m sure this isn’t painful because you have knowledge.  Also because you are envisioning your rose bud opening.”

I have a list of a few other books from a friend that I’m going to read.  I’m beginning to believe that I may be too cynical for natural childbirth.  Unless I switch from an epidural to a hallucinogenic.. which could present a whole other set of issues… and I’ve become partial to epidurals. 

Post marathon endorphins.  I may look happier with the drugs?  

So tell me what you know.  Enlighten me.

Remember when...

My co-workers used to make ridiculous comments?  Like about my bazooms?  Or not having my period?  or if I had to look sideways when I walked down stairs?

Today I felt kind of cute.  Kind of put together.  And then, "Oh, so you're already wearing maternity clothes?"

It was a dress.  With a cardi with beads on it.  Apparently, it screams "mom."

Awesome.

I want to be a house.

I asked Griffin what he wanted to be for Halloween and he told me, "a cardboard house, mommy!"

And I said, "that's ridiculous, Griffin."  And he lost his mind.

"I WANT TO BE A CARDBOARD HOUSE.  I found one, mom.  It's only $50 at pottery barn kids.  I WANITNOW.  Look, it's totally worth it."

And then, I saw his point.  And he cried tears of joy.

I kid.  He is crying over graham crackers.  Specifically, not having them.

Score 1 for childproof door knobs.

Mature.

I am mature. And so is my skin. Even though I’ve been using the coconut oil (love it, btw’s, but I don’t love the smell.) It doesn’t make me break out and it’s nice on my legs post shower. I still haven’t tried the hair thing. I have a big enough issue with greasy hair. I’m fearful. This weekend, though, I had a moment of panic. My skin looked dull, I had under eye circles. I went to sephora.

I went to sephora and explained my issues and the girl gave me options for my “maturing skin.” Her words. I ate it up. I didn’t look at prices. I saw glass bottles and droppers and heard “twice a day” and “it really does work.” And then got asked about my moisturizer and did I use a good one. I said “yes.”

What I should have said was, “sometimes I do, but I’m kind of in a grocery store phase and have been using the cetaphil cream on my entire body because I’m low maintenance right now. However, I’m looking to re-enter the high maintenance world with products that I can’t live without that cost more than my first born son. Do you have any of that?” And I forgot to mention my coconut oil which makes me seem totally organic. So anyway, I say “yes” and she just looks at me and says, “let me offer you something else. Our most economical moisturizer in the store.” Read… I’ve already had you put things that cost a million dollars in your basket by telling you that you look old and will soon have neck fat and aging lines and probably brown spots so I will hand you a jar that seems economical in comparison. I got a sample. I’m no fool.

I asked Ben yesterday if my skin looked radiant and like I didn’t need to wear make up. He said “of course. You always look radiant.” Which is false and clearly everyone needs some makeup. Especially mascara.

So I’ll be high maintenance for a while. Until I forget. At which point I’ll fancy myself practical.