Glammy's Agua

If you are wondering, Glammy's agua (ahh-wah) looks like this, according to Elliott:



I was hoping this might make my mom drink actual water, but she kind of rolled her eyes and chuckled. I'm thinking that if an almost 2 year old thinks you only drink Diet Coke, there might be a problem. . .

What's That Smell?

After spending several weeks days trying to figure out the source of a pesky funk, I have decided that the source is ME. Specifically, my armpits. Evidently I blocked out this pleasing side effect of pregnancy. Turns out my Secret Clinical Strength isn't a match for the hormone overload in my pit-region.

In more positive news, we got to hear Baby Buster's heartbeat chugging along yesterday at the doctor's office. After four weeks with only little squiggles in my belly to let me know that he/she is alive and well, that rhythmic pumping is music to my ears. I was especially anxious with my friend's complicated pregnancy experience right now. Sometimes a trip to the doctor can relieve my fears. However, the anxiety leading up to the appointment definitely doesn't help the perspiration. . . Do you think the nurse had to use air freshener in the exam room after I left? How embarrassing.

My Husband is Obsessed

with Angry Birds. I believe it might be a sickness. The fact that he refuses to lower the volume without much nagging and keeps the noise turned on when he types on the iPhone might lead to serious sickness. Sickness caused when I punch him when he's not looking.

When Bad Things Happen. . .

I feel like I have spent my life feeling like I was on the less fortunate side of things: not quite as smart as Deana, not quite as pretty as Amanda, not as good in love as Stephanie, not as skinny as _____, and on and on. . . Until now. Now don't get me wrong, I feel quite fortunate in my life to have a great family, beautiful son, adoring husband (you adore me, right Chris?), etc. I am talking about that deep down 'if only' syndrome that we all carry around.

I am getting a hefty dose of being the more fortunate one and it is a heavy load to carry. I have not known the depths of this joyful burden before, but I am feeling intense guilt. You see, I have a dear friend, a kindred spirit in many ways, that is also pregnant. And this dear friend is hurting. Her pregnancy is in jeopardy and it is ripping me apart inside. Ripping me apart that two people so incredibly sensitive, loving, thoughtful and hopeful about a new life are feeling gut-wrenching, potentially life-altering pain and there is NOTHING I CAN DO. And just as there is nothing I can do to change their outcome, there is nothing that this lovely, loving couple could have done to prevent this severe complication. It is just shitty luck that has left her sitting on bed rest hoping for good news Tuesday and I am sitting in a hotel room blissfully uncomplicated by such things.

I am immensely happy and thankful for this new soul growing inside of me, and at the same time I can't figure out what put me in a place of relative safety and this dear friend in a place of relative risk and pain. I have known of my friend's situation for 4 days now and it is still consuming my thoughts. Consuming. Eating up my daydreams and my time. My soul is rocked by empathy for her pain and worry. I think--How can she eat? How can she sleep? How can she smile? how? If she lose this baby, how will she cope with the tearing pain? If I go on to have a healthy baby and she does not, how will she ever look at me and my baby and not think, 'That should be me'?

I know that the answer to these answers for this kind friend is faith. I have prayed more this week than I have in quite some time. I pray for peace within the soul of my friend and her husband. I pray that they can lean upon each other for strength instead of turning inward. I pray that if they receive good news that they can celebrate without heavy hearts. I pray that God can lift any guilt from my friend's heart over this tragic event. I pray that if bad news is received that this couple will find strength in each other, their friends and their faith. I pray.

That is all that is left to do.

Announcements from the Depths of Fatigue

I've finally drug myself from the pits of exhaustion to admit to the interwebs that Baby Buster is on his/her way! It's true. Elliott will have a sibling of the human variety arriving sometime mid-May.

I say human variety because, let's face it, my kid totally thinks that Humphrey is his sibling. And for the most part, he's right. We've been working diligently on teaching him something other to say than "Get down, Humphrey."* We now get the occasional, "Good boy, Humphrey."*

*Asterisk required in case one might think that Elliott's utterances actually sound this clear. . . despite having a speech therapist for a mom, this is not the case. I have a tiny complex about it.