When hormones and art collide!

So... my school had a pumpkin carving competition, and I decided to create a self-portrait of sorts. My (winning- a total shocker!!) gourd reads more like an advertisement for abstinence. I give you "The Preggo Pumpkin." And yes, there is a tiny pumpkin inside the green-gilled mama. If I couldn't laugh about the past 7 months, I would be totally lost. And I love that I have friends at work who can laugh along with me.

BTW, I still have morning sickness. Come on! This is seriously getting old. Very, very, very old. Like 7 months old. My fingers are crossed that our remaining two months meet some smoother sailing. If not, I will be forced to get creative with the turkey. Dun, dun, dun...

Interesting New Side-Effect

Yep, I am in love with cooking. And this is a very new development for me. In years past, the height of my culinary skills included salads and some more salads. Just this week alone I have tackled two types of muffins, a chicken and root vegetable slow cook, and a breakfast strata. I even purchased a Southern Living yesterday (my grandmothers would be so proud) yesterday- strictly for the recipes.

So readers, I need good cookbook suggestions. Currently my cookbook shelf contains "The Enchanted Broccoli Forest" and "Soup Love" (couldn't make this stuff up). I want names of the classics. I'd say my skill ranges from toddler wielding a Play-do knife to high school student in AP Home EC.

Please advise : )

BTW, the one semester I had of Home EC (back in my middle school days) I snagged a C-. This tells you two things: (1) I've come a long was from soggy muffins littered with eggshell, and (2) what a nerd I am because I remember my lower graders, even back to 7th grade.

The stuff dreams are NOT made of...

... third trimester woes. Can't seems to catch a break on the sleep front. Lying down is so uncomfortable at this point; I'd rather just wallow is a kiddie pool filled with jell-o. Lord knows I'd be good at that because I spend all night wrestling with my pillows and sheets.

Nothing works. My back pops; my hips burn; my legs are twitchier than hot chocolate-fueled kid on a snow day. I hate to complain, but maaaaaaaaaan, this is getting old. Perhaps I'd be less cranky if there were better shows on at 3 a.m. Having to choose between the Steam Shark and Abs Blaster 9000 infomercials are just as bad as having a splitting pain in your butt. Believe me, I can vouch for the comparison.

Being awake with no sounding board (once Jesse is out, he's out) means my mind is free to wander. I am now having mini-panic attacks about the 2.0's impending arrivals. We have so very much to do to prepare and such little time to complete them all. At this rate, she'd have to bunk in one of my larger handbags. She'd also have to wear my pre-pregnancy yoga clothes. Can you believe I haven't bought a single stitch of clothing yet?!? It's not that I don't want to, it's just that the timing hasn't been right. Pretty soon though, the timing will be mandatory.

The stuff dreams are made of...

A few hours ago, while Jesse was stone-cold asleep, I heard him say the following- Awww, Miles. Great job.

Really, this couldn't have been a sweeter and more pure moment. My moment of Zen arrived extra early today.

Naming DD and Mimi

Miles has been calling my dad DD for sometime now. As of this afternoon, my mom has been christened Mimi. I love it! It's a matched set. First, he named Grampa and Grandma (Jesse's parents), and now my folks officially have been labeled. The clip is of Miles as we are about to leave their house.

Once he settles on a name, he loves saying it. Just ask Uncle Dude/ Clark. We hear that ten times daily, which is a decrease from the 50 mentions we were getting in September! Me, jealous? Not a chance. : ) I have three names: mom-mom, mumma (said in a baby Elvis voice), and noooo-ma-ma. The third is reserved for bathing and teeth brushing times, mainly. Enjoy!

Insert Heavy Sigh- third trimester strikes again!

Not to be a whiner, but this preggo go-around is much more difficult than my last trip down stretchy pants lane.

All pregnancy symptoms, or at least the most common, have shown up in full effect. My belly is bigger, and there's a purple Harry Potter lightning bolt which has newly arrived. I've got heart burn for days- I am starting to make me think that I have discovered a new alternative energy source. Move over geothermal, we've got Anna Air!

I think the most vexing of developments is in the emotional department. The constant battle is keeping an even keel. Tearing up takes no effort on my part. If we're Facebook friends, then you already know that ABBA's "Dancing Queen" reduced me to a sniveling pile just days ago. Seriously, ABBA. I'm also feisty and quick with the temper- it might be related, but my face is now a constant shade of pink. Not entirely unbecoming- but feeling like I standing in front of a whistling kettle day in and day out is getting old.

Sleep is rockier than ever before because the wee one is overactive, especially in those twilight hours. I'm stress, sore, and ready for a magical spa weekend, where glittery unicorns usher me around to wading pools of white chocolate and marshmallow king sized beds- and I would leave my cell phone and laptop at home.

p.s. In writing this post, I've gone from mad to happy back to mad and now sleepy and white flag waving. Wait, I want some ice cream. Does ice cream constitute as an emotions- because that is all I am feeling right now. Maybe some tangerines, too. Sigh.

The second place photo

My sleepy, sleepy men.

My new favorite picture

FYI: Jesse is no longer Dada. He's become Daaadeee-Daaadeee-my-Daaadeee. : )

Werewolves of Williamsburg

His coolness level just keeps rising. How proud am I that my son likes Warren Zevon and/or wolf sounds? Extremely. Proud enough to consider buying him a mini-leather jacket for Christmas. J/k... kinda.

Twain said it best...

"The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and lightning bug." -Mark Twain

Saw this quote on a People First handout, and I loved it. Still love it. I can't tell you how much it means to me when people say my child first and then list his disability secondly. He never has nor never will be a DS baby, Downs baby, DS kid, or DS adult. He has always been a person with Down syndrome. DS is only a fraction of the picture, and it will never be his main identifier. He's more of a son, grandson, friend, and soon-to-be big brother- and our language needs to reflect that. Words carry such weight and importance. As his mother, advocate, and unwavering admirer, I know how much unintentional language can sting. And this is a lesson I had to learn from experience. Now that I have this knowledge, I want to share it with you.

This is Disability Awareness month, so I encourage everyone to be aware of what you say- words are mirrors to our thoughts. When we limit our vocabulary, we limit our expectations.

PEOPLE FIRST!

Much love from Team Milestones!

p.s. 12 weeks to go until our newest member arrives!!!!

Oops...

We meant well, but Miles might have one of the craziest haircuts ever. He's looking a little like Stork from Animal House. Luckily hair grows, and we did just find a really cute baseball hat he will wear (for a minute or so).

He's too young to hold a grudge, right?