a little help...

when i was a kid, i can remember the entire family walking upstairs for bed. my mom would usually be left behind to turn on the dishwasher or lock all the doors...stuff like that. stuff that i didn't realize moms did...until i got married. so...thanks mom for always keeping us safe from the boogey bears.

anyway...my dad would always say to either me or spencer, "could one of you just push me up the stairs...i need a little help."

i always thought he was so old to be needing help.

but i get it now. i wish i had someone who would push me up the stairs. by the top, i'm heaving and breathing heavily and hanging onto the banister like i might fall down.

i caught myself wishing i had a little push tonight on my up...and it reminded me of my dad.

did you hear my dress pop?

i'm sitting here helping my sister with a paper. it's 830 on sunday night. we're at the kitchen table.

i leaned over to type something...and all of a sudden...we both heard a pop.

it was my cotton dress. and a seam popped.

i exclaimed, "oh my gosh...did you just hear my dress pop?"

(spencer says that it's a "cute cotton dress...not like a moomoo")

anyway...i ripped a seam just from leaning over.

had i gotten a bowl of the peach cobbler that i wanted ten minutes ago...my entire dress would have fallen off.

it's official: i'm fat.

28 week visit

yesterday i had my 28 week visit.

i can tell that i've gained weight in "other" places. you know...the baby is carried in the tummy...and not in the thighs or butt or back. yes...the back, of all places. but for some reason, my body has decided that it'd be fun to grow in these alternate areas. i'm thrilled about it. it's great. before getting pregnant, i never really knew my weight...i didn't need to. i could tell by how my clothes fit.

at my 24 week visit, i hit a number i had never seen before. and so i decided that from that point on...i'd just not look down. it'd be better that way.

boy was i right! yesterday, i hopped up on the scale, kept my head up...closed my eyes. and when the little nurse (who likes to just add extra pounds) called out, "okay, hannah." i jumped off. she ushered me in the exam room and began the wait. i'm sitting there thinking..."man, that is totally the way to go...that was painless. from now on, i'm not going to look at my weight. that was much, much easier."

so i'm sitting there when the doctor walks in. he starts asking me how i am. i'm going on and on about how good i feel. how good i'm doing. and then he opens the chart. and then the conversation went something like this...

him: "well, i'm glad to hear that you're doing so....oh...wait a minute."

me: "yeah..oh...what is it?"

(i realize at this point...it's the weight. and it hits me that he's about to ruin this for me.)

him: "oh...uh...nine pounds in a month...that's not good."

me: "ouch. what was i supposed to gain?" (i know the answer to this question....but i'm hoping that he'll bump it up a little...)

him: "four pounds." (thanks for not bumping it up doc)

me: "oh...wow...nine, huh? wow."

at his point, he looks at my feet. which are a little swollen. well, enough for him to notice it. and the conversation turns to...

him: "your feet look pretty swollen. some of the weight can be accounted for by the water retention."

me: "yes...they're swollen. at night, they're really bad. and my hands too. that's probably why i've gained nine pounds, right...right?"

(he totally gets me at this point.)

him: "yes. how much would you like for this "being swollen" to count for...how much of your weight?"

me: "well, let's see. i should have gained four. so let's say that it accounted for a third of the weight...three pounds. that leaves me..."

him: "that leaves you having only gained two extra pounds...how's that?"

at this point, i remember that the nurse has a habit of adding pounds...so i chalk up these two "extra" pounds to her being ninety years old and needing glasses.

me: "sounds good. seems like i'm right where i should be. perfect!"

and that's how my 28 week visit went. i acted like i was listening to what he told me about staying away from salty foods...and something about how it might be a good idea to wear support hose during the day to force the water out..and make me urinate more regularly during the day. i'll just assume that he didn't know how stupid he sounded with the support hose thing. and that's fine...i'd go out on a limb to say that he's never worn them...especially not during the hot summer of august. i'll just drink more water, eat less salt...and go from there...
overall...it was a great visit. and luckily, i didn't gain more weight than i was supposed to.

ah...denial. what a wonderful defense mechanism. thanks siggy.

reason #345 why i love my husband.

i'm very, very lucky. or maybe clint is very, very unlucky. yeah...maybe that's more like it.

i don't pay the bills. i'm not good at that. i wouldn't get them in on time...and there would be little to no keeping up with what was paid and what was not. i'm the worst about it.

clint does all that. i (sometimes) cook dinner. i love to cook his lunch when he comes home from work to eat with me. and i clean the house. he pretty much, does everything else. now that i've typed that...and have re-read it...i'm not really sure why he's with me. it must be because i'm so much stinkin' fun. :)

anyway...he mentioned today that we'll probably need to get me new tires. i thought i remembered having that done recently...so i looked through my glove compartment. that's where everything is. we're talking...any receipt from anything related to my car. as well as insurance cards from like 2004. when i get pulled over, it takes a long, long time to find the "up to date" card. i usually have to flip through several before i find the one that is not expired. which makes the policeman really happy. about as happy as that one officer was when i got pulled over at ouachita. ah...those were the days.

i was driving on that street between ouachita and henderson. and i was mad about something. no telling. maybe it was the day i went to walmart and the woman cut my hair and gave me a rat tail. which i did not ask for. and emily was with me. and about halfway into the haircut, emily said, "you're so pretty, hannah." and it was at that point...without looking...that i knew it was a bad haircut. and then paul lowe said something like, "and you used to be cute."

anyway...i was driving...and this cop pulled me over for speeding. and i was. i was speeding. and he walked up to my car and started writing the ticket. and then he mentioned that i wasn't wearing my seatbelt. and i go....(and this is not normal...and looking back...i cannot believe i said this...) "go ahead and give me a ticket for that...cause i'm not going to wear that stupid thing. ever!"

yes. that's what i said. he kind of laughed...and then added that to the ticket. he tore it off his pad...handed it to me...and said "have a wonderful day miss pratt."

and you know what i did? i ripped that ticket in half and threw it at him. YES! well, i didn't really throw it "at him"...he was just standing outside my car door...and i threw it there. and he sort of gasped. and began to write me another one. so...he rips that one off and hands it to me. and i rip it up. this time though, i decide to add a little something to it. and so i say, "you can keep on writing those tickets. and i'm gonna keep on tearing them up. i won't pay them...i'll tell my dad and he'll get them off my record."

yes. i was horrible. i'm pretty sure it was the day i had a rat tail. and part fem-mullett. i can't believe i said it. but i did.

well, i got a call from my pops the next day. he asked me how i was. i said good...had a little bit of small talk...and then he mentioned that he had received a call from a cop in arkadelphia. let's just say...it wasn't pretty after that. and it included driving school. four days. weekends. and a fine.

back to the story...i start cleaning my glove box out today and realize there is stuff there that should be in the house. like the title to my car, etc. so i leave it for clint on his desk. you see, he has these file boxes. and he keeps everything there. everything alphabetized. so i didn't want to screw anything up and do it myself. it's easier for him to do.

so i look down at the file box...and see this...

it's the first file in a box full of files. and it simply says, "baby". and there is nothing in it. yet. but there will be soon. and seeing it...and knowing that at some point, he thought about it...and then made this little baby his own file...completely melted my heart.

and once again, i realized...that i'm completely not worthy of all the blessings that i have been given.

for grandma and grandpa

i have such great memories of being a kid. and i always say that i wish i had known clint as a kid. i think we would have been great friends...and...i think that it would have saved me lots and lots of heartache. but i guess the things that don't kill us only make us stronger, right? that's a whole different subject.

anyway, last night we were sitting here talking about what we wanted for dinner. we wanted to cook something and watch a movie. for some reason, clint was reminded of these multicolored crackers that grandpa used to make when he was a kid. he said that they were really thin crackers, and you put them in a pot of oil, and they'd blow up. grandpa would buy them at the asian grocery store.

we decided to go to the asian grocer in little rock to see if we could find these crackers.

to be completely honest, i wasn't sure i would make it in the grocery store. i could smell the fishy smell about ten feet from the door. and anyone who has ever had the "pregnant nose" knows what i'm talking about. everything is stronger...good things and bad things. i can't do fishy stuff. i can't eat canned tuna for that very reason. my mother would take me to daycare about once a month...just so she could do things around town...and i would be force fed tuna fish. i really would. i would know that we were headed to daycare and i'd starting throwing up all over the car. tuna fish and vegetable soup. two things i don't like to this day because of that daycare.

anyway, we get in and somehow we find the crackers. they are actually shrimp crackers. and they're see through...and wafer thin. like, think pieces of plastic. that's what they look like. pre-cooked.

clint ended up frying several of them. he ate all of them. he was so cute eating them. so excited. told me that he remembered grandpa and grandma letting him make them. i loved it. and i realized that in only a few short years...we'll get to make those memories too. how much fun!

it's the only thing i do globally well...

i love john mayer. someone i know once sent justin timberlake a senior picture of herself...i can't say who it was. she would kill me. but she claims that the reason she did it was because she really thought that if only they could meet, they would be the best of friends.

that's how i feel about john mayer. i think we have a lot in common. but unlike whit, i'm not cool when i meet famous people. i'm quite the opposite. i say things like, "my uncle grows weed for willie nelson". that's all i can come up with.

anyway, john mayer said something recently about going back on tour. he said this...

I'm headed back on the road today... It's kind of like that scene in The Abyss when they put that helmet filled with fluid over Ed Harris' character's head. That guy says "we breathe water for nine months in the womb. Your body will remember!"...I think the same is true for touring.

As (relatively) long as it's been, I'm sure that when I step up on stage and that energy in the room holds the whole thing upright, I'll sink back in.

It's the only thing I do globally well, playing music. Everything else in my life tips its hat to it...

i won't even mention his little "..."s. they speak for themselves. i didn't copy this from him. didn't even realize he did it too...until recently. i've been doing this for years. years, people. i should really hunt down my senior pictures...

anyway, it got me thinking...what do i do globally well? i'm not sure i do anything that well. and i wonder if that's a problem...

an update

a while back, i posted about some friends who had their little boy and there was a problem with his heart. he's been at children's now for about two weeks.

the doctors began open heart surgery on the little guy around 330 yesterday afternoon. we spoke with his dad around 6. they were still in surgery...but the little guy was stable. the doctors were giving them updates every 30 minutes...and the last update was that they were successful in closing the hole or the valve or whatever. (that's what a year of medical school got me...a year and an unspeakable amount of money. i like to say that i have a 25% chance of getting it right...get it...one of out of four. i'm funny)

anyway, please keep this family in your prayers. i know that they have a long road ahead of them.

an adventure in petsmart

so i took ace to be groomed today. he went fishing with his dad this weekend, and supposedly "fell" into the water. whatever. i'm pretty sure he jumped. anyway, he needed to be washed professionally. i don't know that i could wash him at this point. it's hard on the old back.

i've been helping a friend of mine with her 17 month old son. they are moving saturday, and i have been helping keep him while she works. it's been fun..and good experience. he's a really, really good kid. at that stage where all he wants to do is follow you around. and hold your hand. so sweet.

so picture this: me, ace on a lease and jh all walking into petsmart. we get up to the door...i'm carrying jh...and ace starts sniffing around. not surprising because that's what he does. well, he gets right up to the door...and i guess the sliding door smells like other dogs...so what does ace do? he marks it. right there. lifts his leg and just pees right on it. there are people walking in and out...and i'm mortified!

i basically yank him inside the store. at this point, jh is getting really, really heavy. and as a result of him sliding down, my shirt is coming down. being pulled down. but i have no way of pulling it up. i just keep telling myself, "keep walking".

so we enter the door. ace is doing good. but as soon as he realizes that we have to step off the entryway mat...he's done. the floor is slick and shiny and slippery...and he's not having it. he just plants himself. and refuses to move. so it's at this point that i bend down...put jh down...grab his hand...pick ace up and carry him like a baby. my shirt is pretty much completely down at this point. pulled down. the vneck shirt is no longer vneck. basically, you can see my belly button. i mean, not really...but close.

ace gets nervous and pees on me. yes, just a little...but enough to count. enough for me to be wet. look wet and feel wet. we get back to the grooming station after many stares from people...one sweet woman actually helped me....and i finally feel like i'm good.

we're standing there, the woman is getting information from me. and all of a sudden, jh says, "poo poo?". like in a questioning tone. and i very quietly say, "um...no, not right here." which i know is pointless...because that means he's about to do just that...in his britches. i turn back to the woman and answer more of her questions....name, number, etc..and it's at that point that i hear jh grunting. holding onto the counter and grunting. his face is red. his eyes are watering.

the girls kind of giggles. and i do too. because what else is there to do? cry?

i lean over and say, "i guess you're poo-pooing, right?" and he stops...mid grunts, and goes, "yeah"...and then gets back to it.

this is only the beginning, i know. at least today, i could revel in the fact that this wasn't my child crapping his pants in the middle of petsmart. but i know that many months from now...it will be my child. i just can't wait :)

twins, huh?

we were in hot springs this weekend for father's day. we had gone out to eat....and i needed to use the restroom. go figure.


so i'm standing there...waiting in line. which i think is totally unreasonable. people should allow pregnant people to pee first...but i guess this hasn't become a public service announcement yet. i'm not being high maintenance. i'm just being serious. there is a distinct pain that comes from having to urinate while pregnant. i can't describe it. it's truly painful though.

so this sweet little waitress comes up and says, "oh...when are you due?". i said, "september." meanwhile...thinking to myself...it's so nice that i finally look pregnant... not just bloated or chubby. and she goes....(get ready for it)...."oh...so you're having twins!".

yes. that's what she said. i just said, "nope. it's one baby." and she preceeded to tell me that the doctor must not have seen the second heartbeat. she asked me how many ultrasounds we had...because "obviously" they missed the second baby. she went on and on and on. i wanted to punch her in the face.

when i got back to the condo, i rewarded myself with a piece of peanut butter pie. because i was emotionally abused...and i deserved it. me and my twins.

the name.

i realized today that we haven't put the baby's name on here. i actually had a friend tell me to wait because people will steal names...but i'm pretty sure we're safe. it's a family name...and i can't imagine someone stealing it.

pratt allen fulks.

and i must say that it wasn't my idea. i never thought of it. our friend jerrod liked it...and the more we thought about it, the more we liked it for a boy or a girl. since it's not really a traditional name...we didn't think it was too boy or too girl. and grandma teddie liked it too...before we even told her about it. she and grandpa thought about it...and wondered if we'd use it.

"allen" is clint's middle name. and "pratt" is my maiden name. we both wanted something with meaning...something from our families. we think it's just perfect.

things that have become impossible.

1. painting my toenails. i've tried several different ways. i've tried sitting in a chair and bending down. nope...it hurts. i've tried sitting on the toilet and hiking my leg up on the sink. nope...it hurts too. so i've decided that i'll just pay the 25 dollars and go get a pedicure. i deserve it. i'm pregnant in the summer months. i deserve so much for this.

2. grocery shopping a. before the sun goes down, b. alone. the problem isn't shopping. the problem is pushing a shopping cart across hot, black asphalt and then standing there...trying to unload all those sacks from the cart...into my hot car. and then having to push that dang cart all the way back to the cart holder.

3. getting out of any chair without first kicking my right leg up and out. it gives me momentum.

4. shaving my legs. see number 1.

5. wearing closed-toed shoes. they're hot. they're tight. and they're not happening.

6. wearing a belt. sometimes pants just need a belt. none of mine are big enough. and i refuse to try any of clint's belts. because if they don't fit...well, it won't be pretty.

7. getting on the scales.

8. our down comforter. no way hosea. it's pretty much a sheet for me. and sometimes, not even that.

9. my undergarments. i'll leave it at that. it's best that way.

10. walking into our bedroom without first taking a peek at the baby's room. turning on the light and imagining what i'll see there in only a few short months. and smiling.

florida florida florida

i've always loved the news. up until i was in junior high, i watched the jetsons while getting ready for school. somewhere around the 8th grade, i realized there were more important things going on.

last night when i heard of tim russert's passing, i couldn't help but be upset. i felt like i knew him. and i guess that was the appeal.

he was fair, unbiased. what a sad, sad day for us.

early, early this morning.

we're 98 days away from our due date. i've always really liked that number. almost to the point of always shooting for a 98 and not a 100. because a 100 seems so impossible. i mean, who ever really knows everything.

anyway...that's beside the point. i woke this morning around 5 am. probably because i had really good intentions to go to the gym and then go for a swim. before it got too hot. it didn't happen. but i did get out of bed. i realized that i was starving. this may be because i had eaten dinner around 630...and then not really eaten anything after that. well, i did have some sour patch kids, but those don't really count. because they aren't anything but sugar. and sugar doesn't count as food. it would be counted as fun.

so i sneak downstairs (after lots of loud grunting to roll out of bed). now, it's dark at 5. and i slept in my contacts. i didn't use any eyedrops...so my eyes are basically stuck together. so i'm seriously feeling my way down the hallway, down the stairs. i get to the kitchen and without even thinking about it...i walk over to the pantry and pull out a half eaten bag of hostess donettes. you know the ones. the really soft donuts that are covered in powdered sugar. they have like 20 grams of fat for 6 of them. they are one of my dad's favorite snacks. and i've actually never bought them at the grocery store. because i know that they're pointless to eat...no nutritional value. but i bought them...because i'm pregnant. and i wanted them. and i bought them at kroger after the walmart incident that has completely scarred me for life.

so i tear open this bag...still eyes completely shut. and i just cram as many as i can into my mouth. i looked like that japanese guy who crams sushi rolls in his mouth as practice for the hot dog eating competition. they tasted so dang good. i had probably eaten around 6 when i began to choke. fixed that. i took a drink right out of the orange juice jug. didn't even use a cup! which is sooo not like me. i always use a cup. it completely grosses me out to think that anyone would put their mouth on that thing. (this should give you some insight into my state of mind).

i toss one more beautiful donette into my mouth before i sneak back upstairs. crawl in the bed. and after about thirty seconds of grunting, i get comfortable. the tv sheds just enough light for me to see something white and flaky on my chest. i take my finger and wipe it. and i just fell out laughing.

powdered sugar. i can't lie...i totally licked the sugar off my finger and fell fast asleep. i can't remember, but i bet i had a really good dream after that.

unfinished business

i''ve never been a fan of endings. when my friend summer left ouachita, i didn't even say goodbye. because it seemed so final. and i don't like finality. not too long ago, when whitney moved to california, i was unable to say anything to her. i just walked out. made it all the way to my car before i broke down.

i'm notorious for getting to the last few chapters of a book and then just putting the book down. it's become that way with movies too. last night we were watching no country for old men, and it was when the bad guy had just had a wreck. he payed the kid for his shirt and walked away. then you see the sheriff back at the diner with his wife talking. i got bored with the monologue (i know it was important...but i already knew what he was talking about. he was finishing up with what he said at the beginning of the movie) so i started to get up. clint asked me where i was going and i told him i was done. that i was going to bed. he told me that it wasn't over. and i said that for me...it was.

we recently watched gone baby gone. which if you haven't seen it, you must. it's wonderful. one of the best movies i've seen in a long, long time. which is evidenced by the fact that i actually sat through the whole thing never once looking for the time. clint told me that had i walked away from it, i would missed the best part. true...but there was no threat of walking away with that movie. i was so wrapped up in what was happening, that i didn't see the end coming. it's like that cliche, time flies with you're having fun.

so it got me thinking...why do i do this? why do i avoid endings? maybe it's because typically they're no good. they're not fun. they're filled with tears or heartache. and so maybe this is my coping mechanism.

in my short 28 years, i've had lots of bad endings. seen lots of illness. lots of people dying too soon.

and i guess i no longer believe that there is always a happy ending. and so i'm not going to wait around and be disappointed. i'd rather make up an ending on my own. i'd rather just walk away, and imagine what happened. sometimes i don't think i'm strong enough for the real end. for the real way everything will turn out. it's like, when i'm driving. if i see off in the distance, something that looks like an animal that has been hit...i just block my line of sight with my hand. and i pass right by. because it's best that i don't look over there. i'm helpless in the situation...and it's best that i don't have a breakdown.

this can't be healthy though. because this makes me think that i'm never really dealing with anything...instead, i'm just avoiding it. skipping it.

or maybe i'm looking too deep. maybe this is because i don't have the attention span to finish. the attention span to watch the entire movie. to finish the entire book. but if this is the case...why am i able to finish certain books and certain movies and certain papers?

the good news. there is one thing i'm going to finish...this baby. because i refuse to live the rest of my life having to urinate four times nightly. i wake clint every single time i get up. not on purpose...but because of the grunting and the movement that it takes to hoist myself out of the bed.

you're not dealing with a normal person...

i had a bad, bad breakdown. if i were alexander...i would say that i had a no good, very bad breakdown. it happened at walmart. my favorite place. well...it was my favorite place. they might have my picture at the front...that way if i ever step through the doors again, my favorite greeter, allen, will tell me that i'm not welcome there. it was that bad.

yesterday, clint and i go to get paint and a toilet seat. well, really just paint. but we walked past the toilet seats, and he remembered that he needed one. so he choose a white one. i told him that our toilet was not white...it was off white...but he didn't think i knew what i was talking about. i wanted to say, "who cleans that toilet, mister?"...but i didn't. because that would have led to the conversation about how i don't have a job...and that i was a student at 28. and i don't want to have that conversation. i hate that one.

so we buy the white one. get home. it's a cream toilet. so we set it on the table, with the receipt to take back.

fast forward to today. i'm attempting to be a good wife and make out a grocery list so that we (i) don't have to go to the grocery again this week to fix dinner. i spent about 45 minutes looking through cook books to make a weekly menu. so...i get everything written down.

drive to walmart. get out. take in the toilet seat, receipt, my purse and my list. that again...took me 45 minutes to make. allen (my favorite greeter) gives me a sticker for the seat. i walk over to the return desk. i leave my buggy next to the return desk. it's behind me actually. i didn't want to have to manuever that thing through the ropes. i leave my grocery list in the buggy. because it's so obvious that it's my buggy. it's sitting right beside the return desk. i mean, who just comes up and take a buggy from there?

well...apparently someone does. i look back, and it's gone. i'm standing in the line, waiting...and my buggy is gone. i immediately get mad. here i had spent 45 minutes making that dang list out. and then someone just comes along and takes my stuff. i mean, come on. i start panicking. i ask the checker if he's seen anyone take my cart. he says no. i lose my place in line because i'm freaking out. so then, i decide that it's best i just get my 11 dollars back before i completely have a meltdown in the walmart. so, i get back in line. get up to the front. the guy asks me what i need. i tell him i'm returning the toilet seat. and he begins to do what he needs to do...you know, scan the ticket, circle the item, yada yada.

well, he flips the seat over and sees that there is a crack in in the seat. i promise that i had no seen this. and of course, we didn't do this. but i must look like someone who breaks things and then tries to get my money back. he basically tells me that he can't give me my money back because i have scratched it...and now it's worthless. i told him (very calmly, i might add) that i did not do this. that i had not even seen the cut. he is not believing me. he proceeds to ask me if that's not the case, why do i not want to exchange it for something else. some other color. that's when i tell him that our toilet (although i might have used the word that cousin eddie used when cleaning out his camper in the front yard of clark's house....it rhymes with "quitter", but starts with an s) was off white. and they only have a dark tan. and that that's why i'm not getting another seat.

it's not going well at this point. he's mad. i'm mad. he tells me that there is nothing else he can do. and here's basically what i said at that point...

me: "you just think you're dealing with a normal person. i might look normal. but i'm not. you're not dealing with a normal person. mister...you're dealing with a pregnant person. a person who will stand here until your shift is over...and argue with you about this toilet seat. i have lost my grocery list...that took me 45 minutes to make. and i have all the time in the world. i will be leaving here with my 11 dollars. and it will be easiest if you just give it to me"

at this point...there were several people behind me. it was so quiet. i was the crazy person. the one that kids are scared of. yes, that was me.

the checker: "let me get my manager."
me: "that would be a great idea."

so...after arguing with the manager for like 15 minutes, i get my 11 dollars back. but not before she tells me that i need to calm down. my response...

me: "i'm perfectly calm. in fact, this is the calmest i've been in a long time. i cannot believe that it has taken this long to get back my 11 dollars. i will never, ever, ever shop here again. this used to be my favorite store. but i'm done here. i'm going to kroger. and i don't even like kroger. but i'm going there. and you know what...i'm glad i am. you could learn a few things from the people at kroger. like...the parking at the front of the store for expectant mothers. all ya'll have here is parking for the handicapped."

and with that, i walked out.

got in the car and cried. the entire way home. couldn't even see. when i got home, clint was washing my car. he asked me what was wrong. i couldn't even begin to tell him. i knew it was silly. and that i had nothing to cry about...but i was overwhelmed with emotion.

best part of the story: i go to kroger. get my groceries. get home. it's like 8 pm. get home and i have payed for but do not have the sirloin steak and the hamburger meat i purchased. had to drive back there and get it. luckily clint did that for me.

there is really no telling what i would have done or said. i've become that crazy woman that doesn't brush her hair...the one that smells like cats. that always has like ten bags of kitty litter in her station wagon. that's me.

one more thing: i wasn't being ugly or rude about the handicapped parking. i'm the person who leaves nasty notes on peoples cars when they park in those spots without the stickers. i totally believe that people with any type of handicap should be able to park at the very front of the store. i was just emotional...but i didn't want that to sound wrong. i didn't mean it like that at all.

officially pregnant.

i've been relatively good about my eating habits. at least, i guess i have. i have in front of clint. because today, we stopped at wendy's to eat. i was driving...which meant that clint was in charge of passing out food.

so he hands me my spicy chicken sandwich...and then hands me my french fries. only...it was only half full. maybe half full. pretty much, there were like 10 fries in there.

now typically...i'd be disappointed because fries are my very favorite food. when i was a kid, my dad referred lots of football games on friday nights. high school games. and he would go to mcdonalds to get food on his way home. he would always bring me fries. and i can remember him waking me up to eat the fries. it was usually late. and i was young. but i'd always, always get to get up and eat french fries with him. my favorite part: the fact that he would unwrap his mcdonalds burger...toss out his fries...all on a nice plate. he'd add salt and pepper...and then ketchup. and then he'd take it up to the bedroom and eat it.

so..back to the story. clint hands me this cartoon with literally like 10 fries in it. and before i knew what had come out of my mouth....i go, "nu-huh. i want the other fries. there aren't enough in here."

just like that. that's what i said. his response included the word "chubbs"...so it's best i don't remember exactly what he said.

he thought it was funny and called my parents to tell them that their daughter was "officially pregnant". mom said she understood where i was coming from....glad someone does.

flowers

i love nothing more than fresh cut flowers. mostly...the kind that you can pick from your yard. but my thumbs are far from green.

luckily, clint's are very green. when he moved into this house, he and his friend jerrod planted several gardenia bushes along the front porch. this year they are bigger than ever. the one closest to the driveway has so many blooms on it!

the smell is just fantastic walking from the mailbox into the front door. i want to remember what the plants looked like. now...if only we could get some sunshine in the backyard...we could have a garden. that would be great. i read somewhere that if kids help in growing vegetables...they are more likely to eat them.

if you haven't seen it...it's worth watching.

good intentions

so today i packed fresh cherries, strawberries and grapes in my lunch.

i ate the cherries after my poptart...which was after my sausage roll...which was after my bowl of lucky charms. those all counted as "breakfast items".

my lunch items included...but were not limited to...(as it's only 126...still plenty of time for lunch items)...a lean pocket...the grapes...and finally...for calcium, string cheese.

so i was hungry again. or "we" were hungry again. so "we" ate. i got out the strawberries...but wanted something chocolate too. so i put some dark chocolate chips in a bowl with a little splash of milk. heated it for thirty seconds...stirred...and voila...i had my own miniature chocolate fountain.

well, not really. but close enough. and because taking the strawberry and dipping it in the bowl didn't pick up enough chocolate...i decided to cut them into bite sized pieces and just toss them in the bowl. take the spoon...coat the pieces of fruit (just to make sure they had no redeeming quality left)...and then i actually spooned them into my mouth. that's right. and with the piece of fruit, i got all the chocolate in the spoon. none was left. clean spoon.

it's official...i'm chubby.

our small group

right before clint and i got married, we signed up for a marriage class through our church. it was led by a couple from the church...bart and amanda. there was one other couple in our class...and then another female. she was a psychiatrist. which made her comments and insight interesting and fun for clint and me.

the class ended in may of last year, i think. anyway, shortly after the class ended, amanda asked us to join their small group. there were five couples. they met every other sunday night for dinner and worship.

it didn't take any time to say yes to her. we were very excited to be a part of a group...not only to have friends...but more importantly, friends who could hold us accountable. we had no idea what our first year would bring...and we needed all the help we could get...i mean, why not, right?

we have been blessed beyond belief with this group. sunday night we met at our house. it was nice. i got to cook dinner and dessert...cooking is probably one of my favorite things to do. just because i feel so close to my mother when i cook. in a silly way, i feel proud that i have a little bit of her in me. because that is the only reason i'm able to cook...because of genetics. i mean, my dad was the breakfast cook while in the sigma chi house...but i devote most of the talent to her. but i'll never be as good as her. never, ever. clint knows this...and luckily, he's okay with it.

anyway...everytime we meet, i remember how lucky we are to have these people in our lives. as clint described them last night..."they are all such normal, godly people." normal in that we fit right in...and don't have to pretend to be anything we aren't. i can't describe how nice it is to know that no matter what we say...no matter what we bring to the table...they are not going to freak out. instead, i am confident that someone has been through it. i think that 2 of the couples have been married for somewhere around nine years. nine years! this means lots of advice...good advice for the rest of us.

anyway...i know this is random, but i just wanted to express how much this has meant to both clint and myself. we love you guys.

a prayer request

hi everyone.

recently, i've witnessed the power of prayer. i'm guilty, all too often, of thinking something is too big for God. and i continue to be reminded that nothing is that big.

so i'm coming to you...for a favor. we have friends who had a baby a little early last week. he was born and from what i understand...taken to the children's hospital immediately. i don't remember the medical term...but if i'm understanding everything correctly...there is a hole in the heart that closes when the baby takes his first breath. something has gone wrong with this little guy's heart. and they have kept this hole open with medication thus far. now, they are trying to get it closed...get everything taken care of.

there is still a lot going on. he's been in the hospital for a week now. and they plan on being there for 2 to 3 more weeks. i cannot even begin to imagine what this feels like for mom and dad. to know that your baby is here...but you can't take care of him. you can't hold him. and love him.

i know that so many of you that read this...either have kids...or are about to have kids...so you understand.

please keep this family in your prayers. the baby's name is cash. i'll update you with anything that happens....just keep him and his parents in your prayers. i know that it would be much appreciated.

have great tuesdays.

things to remember, part two.

1. the other day clint and i were talking about the baby. about what he would be like. clint has trouble wrapping his mind around what this little guy is going to look like. he just keeps saying that it's so strange to think of a mixture of the both of us. clint basically said that all he wanted was for this baby to be kind. to be thoughtful. i couldn't agree more. and don't want to forget him saying that. what a tough thing to teach a child...

2. i no longer bend over to pick anything up off the floor. squatting is not an option. it doesn't feel right. i feel like i'm hurting the baby...and bending over makes me dizzy. and it's hard to reach my toes that way. seriously. if i come across something that should be moved...like say, shoes. i'm notorious for leaving my shoes around the house. instead of bending down to pick them up, i just scoot them with my feet...move them to where they belong. which is usually under the bed. that way when i need them, i can just scoot them out and slip them on. clint nearly broke his neck last night on a pair of my shoes. it was hilarious. at least it was to me.

3. i can take my iron pill and prenatal vitamin without tossing my head back to swallow....AND....i only need one swig of juice to take each pill. this is probably my biggest accomplishment so far. those pills are big.

4. i don't like for clint to drive anywhere alone late at night. he went out of town on saturday. he didn't get home till midnight. and i was worried the entire time. i find that i'm calling him more to check on him. i worry about him more now. worry that he's not wearing his seatbelt. it's weird.

5. i don't like staying by myself. the previews for that horrible movie the strangers has me completely screwed up. i shut every blind in the house now. because i'm so afraid someone is standing outside watching me. i mean, what's worse than someone watching you when you don't know it...with a mask on? one thing folks...a clown watching you when you don't know it...wearing a mask. that's the only thing worse.

6. i'm digging pb&j's. on fresh bread that dents in when you hold it too tightly. and lay's potato chips. yum.

7. i'm sleeping under a sheet only. because i get so hot. i can't stand the thought of putting our down comforter back on the bed. i walk outside and immediately start sweating. it's june second...and it's already 90 degrees outside. this is going to be a long, long summer.