BTPS

Somebody please tell my brain that it is well past my bedtime. Technically, I've already been to bed, but sleeping for an hour and a half hardly constitutes as rest. The cards are stacked against me: no position is comfortable at the moment, my body temperature is swinging from jungle to iceberg every two minutes, and my mind is racing at a billion thoughts per second, "BTPS" BTW.

Let's take the problem apart piece by piece. Okay, problem one- comfort levels. My back is popping and snapping every time I readjust myself. Furthermore, rolling from side to side is feeling is leaving me feeling like a beached whale on Blanket Island. I'm grunting, groaning, and using too much energy to complete a formerly simple task.

Problem two- my temperature issues are directly related to problems one and three. First of all, I am getting hot lugging the bump around- and flipping sleep positions counts, too. Secondly, my mental state (or near panic level thinking) is causing my temperature to rise. My brain is in overdrive, and the steam is leaking out of my ears.

Problem three- "What, me worry?" Hell yes! Panicky is the name of the game these days. Interrupting my ever mounting wall of anxieties are beautiful but brief pockets of joy- thoughts of finally meeting, holding, and cuddling Penelope. Once that daydream fades, the waking nightmares of financial woes, preparation deadlines, and the copious arrangements still to be made flood back in. I am thinking this is akin to mental nesting, but sheesh- having to cope this with at this late hour is a little annoying.

Possible problem four- I ate away too much fruit before going to bed. More fruit than a gorilla snacks on in a month. For some reason, those raspberries, blackberries, blue berries, and pineapple chunks had to be consumed by the fist full. (Could my worrisome tummy be only having a fruit-overdose?)

Possible Solutions: There is so much good going on; I need to take a deep breath (let my back pop back into place) and re-read the post I added yesterday morning. Celebrate the positive, recognize what I cannot change (especially at this late hour), and let go of my need to be in control. Though it is taking me a long time to get the message, the experience of parenting and becoming a parent again is a highly reflect journey into the land of realization, recognition, and release. Realization: that there are forces greater than me at work. Recognition: that I control very little of what actually happens in grandest of grand schemes. And release: that letting go of the fear allows for my energy to be spent on the positive.

And speaking of focusing on the positives, check out the cutie in the laundry basket. I love getting this picture messages from Jesse. Love, love, love it. That's my one am Moment of Zen. Also, until this restlessness kicked in, I was having an amazing day.

I am off to try sleeping again. Wish us luck (2.0 is also on the move right now, too. She needs to chill out, just like mommy)!

Serenity Prayer 2.0

"God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference."

What is my role? What am I here to do?

I am here to celebrate, educate, and advocate for you.

Together, we will navigate both storms and smooth sails,

and my love will be ever present, even when my composure fails.

Scavenger Chic

Hi Folks! We are headed to the Cary Town / Richmond-area this weekend in search of awesome second-hand baby girl finds. So far, I have purchased anything for Penelope yet. And this go around, I would really like to keep her early clothes to hand-me-downs and second-hands because now I know exactly how little time the wee ones actually spend in size ranges. Live and learn, right?

So, I know there's a cute shop next to the Byrd Theatre. However, after that... I need some suggestions. If you know of any good thrifty in that area, or in the greater Tri-Cities, please let me know. Thanks!!!

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.