dear pratt.

dear pratt,

this is what your daddy does when you're gone.


he misses you. and looks at pictures of you and says, "i hate when he's not here."

here you are....







we love you. and just so you never forget...your daddy misses you every single time you are away. that is true love, little guy.

xoxo,
mommy.


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dear pratt.

dear pratt,

i'm a gigantic fan of music.  lyrics.  words.

from an early age, music has made things ok.  i can remember my parents letting me order cd's every month.

i think maybe i get this from my dad.  he loves music too.  next month, he and i are going to see james taylor.  oh how i can't wait.  he got us tickets on the 23rd row.  floor.  i can't help but remember going to see david allan coe when you were in my belly.  i remember texting vernon (or "burnon" to you) and asking him if the loud music might hurt your ears.  his response, "no.  but he may come out with a tattoo".  you didn't come out with a tattoo, but you DID come out with what i assume to be little david allan's personality.  yep.

so i'm going to james taylor in hopes that max will come out with this really laid back personality.  kind of a "sweet baby james" personality.  idk.  but we can't have two long haired rednecks running around here...not gonna happen.

back to my original thought...i remember in college, meeting emily.  and knowing immediately that we would get along just grand.  because she loved rob thomas and matchbox twenty as much as i did.  i bet we listened to those cds a million times.

and as time went on, and life got harder...i remember turning to music to make everything okay.  and to make everything seem normal.

some boy would break my heart...and i would pull out jann arden's "insensitive".  man, what a great, depressing song.  i would crank that up so loud and jam out in my little honda accord.  i would cry.  and scream.  and beat the steering wheel with my hands.

but then i'd feel better.  much, much better.

maybe because i didn't feel so alone.  misery loves company.  it's true.  or maybe because it was so cathartic.  to get it all out.

anyway, my life has changed.  and while the situations aren't the same.  and i'm not listening to music sitting in my dorm room depressed over something...i'm still listening.  because i'm still growing.  and still learning.

and so today, i heard the song, "awake my soul" for the millionth time.  and had to document what it means to me.  and what i hope it means to you one day.  i can't help but think you will love music as much as me and your daddy.  and hopefully, you got your daddy and your pops' genetics...and will be able to play any musical instrument you touch.

oh, the song is by mumford & sons.

here are the lyrics:

how fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
i struggle to find any truth in your lies
and now my heart stumbles on things i don't know
this weakness i feel i must finally show


lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all
but lend me your heart and i'll just let you fall
lend me your eyes, i can change what you see
but your soul you must keep, totally free


in these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
where you invest your love, you invest your life


awake my soul, awake my soul
awake my soul
you were made to meet your maker


those three lines that are highlighted, i mean, come on!  how i wish i had an original thought like that.  how i wish i could express something so fantastic.

i think i should have "where you invest your love, you invest your life" stamped all over my body, my home, my mirrors, etc.  awesomeness.

okay.  stop reading.  and go play the guitar.  but not for some silly girl.  maybe for me.  yes, that sounds great.

i love you little guy.
mommy.

one long day.

I'd like to forget that today happened. So would my son.

I can sum it all up by telling you about one little conversation we had.

He was taking a shower at like 515. Because I was bound and determined he was going to sleep at 7. Possibly before then.

Anyway, he wanted a happy meal. And I told him that his behavior was so foul that he wouldn't be getting a happy meal for days. Possibly a week.

He flips. Throws himself on the ground. Says something about how he lives for chicken nuggets "and that toy in the red box".

I get him in the shower and he seems to calm down. As I'm drying him off, he looks up at me and says, "I'm eating a happy meal for dinner."

I said, "uh, yeah...I don't think so."

And he says, "just wait and see. I called dad while I was in the shower and he's bringing me one home. With chicken nuggets and French fries and apple juice."

if you're reading this and think he's like 10. He's not. He's 2. 2 years old.

Unreal. And totally gonna be the reason you see me on the news one day. Because slowly but surely I'm losing my mind over here.

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love.

when i was little, we had a cat named mama kitty.  i don't know what her name was before she had babies. maybe she didn't have a name.  it's totally possible.  or maybe she had several.  but none of them stuck until "mama kitty".

she was a great cat.  and lived 21 human years.  (i think that's right.  maybe 19.  i can't remember.  it was a long, long time.)  she is buried in the front yard of my parent's house.  my dad buried her.  she's buried facing east.  "so that when Jesus comes back, she will know and go with Him".  those are my dad's words.

i say all that to tell you that i can distinctly remember being in high school.  getting ready for school early in the morning.  and seeing that cat just snoozing it out on my bed.  or my parents bed.  or wherever really.  because what else did she have to do?

i can remember thinking, "man, i'd give anything to be that cat.  she has the easiest life."

looking back, it's all pretty funny now.  because what in the world was i complaining about?!  i was like 16.  i had it made.  yes, i had chores.  i did my laundry (sometimes) and i cleaned my room.  and i had a job.  but i mean, come on.

i came home to parents who took really good care of me.  if i needed money, i simply asked.  if i needed something specific at the grocery, i just asked.  etc, etc.

i've thought about this a lot lately.  how different life is now that i'm 31 and not 21.  how in only 10 short years, SO much has changed.  i wouldn't change it for the world.  really, i wouldn't.  sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night after a nightmare.

it's always the same story.  i dream i didn't marry clint.  that i married someone else.  he's faceless.  i never know who it is.  it's not some old boyfriend.  just someone that's not clint.  and my entire life seems off.  i'm not happy.  i'm not a mother.  i don't feel like i have a purpose.  it's all really scary.

and i wake in a cold sweat.  and usually turn on the light to look around.  and make sure my life really is what it's supposed to be.  i will then scoot over to clint.  as close as i can get.  where one entire side of my body is pressed against him.  sometimes i grab his hand.  or his arm.  something very tangible.

and i just lay there, holding onto him. about 2 minutes in, i begin to cry.  because i realize that things could be so different.  that i could have said no to his invitation to the dental school christmas party.  that i could have gone to a different college.  and never met him.  that he might not have ever been a science major.  or that i might not have ever been a science major.  and we wouldn't have met that afternoon in zoology lab.

not until recently did i really have an appreciation for couples who have been married for numerous years.  my parents have been married 40 years.  40 whole, long years.  my dad always says that he loves my mother now for different reasons than when he married her.

that has never made more sense to me, than it does at this point in my life.

i finally get it.  i love clint more than i ever have.  but things are different.  we are different to each other.  we no longer sit on the couch holding hands every night after dinner.  instead, someone is on the floor building legos with pratt.  or helping him play "the jumping game".

we, by no means, have grown apart.  i know this because when we have a night to ourselves, i love to sit really close to him.  and force him to hold my hand.  i will intentionally beg to go to the movies so i can loop my arm through his and put my head on his shoulder.

i hope that in 40 years, we love each other even more.  i think we will.  i know that i will.  and i'm confident in saying that he will too.

and more than anything else, i hope pratt and his brother see what that means.  that loving one person...being true to one person...is the most amazing gift you can give.  to your spouse...and to your children.

so, clint...if you're reading this, i love you.  more today than yesterday.  thanks for loving me back. even thought my q-tips never make it to the trashcan.  and even though i never get my oil changed on time.  and even though i don't iron your scrubs like a good wife would.  i'm sure lucky.

have wonderful nights.  or mornings.  or both.

thirty three weeks.

this week marks 33 weeks.

let's see.  what can i do vs. not do.

i can go through a roll of toilet paper in about 2 days.  i can still pick pratt up, but he has to straddle my belly with his legs.  one goes over and one goes to my back.

my belly button (if you still consider it that.  it's more like a belly saucer.  not so much a "button" anymore. button has the connotation of something small and cute.  not what this is) sticks out through every single shirt i wear.

you can still see my ribs and it looks like they are just hanging on for dear life.  like maybe at any point, this stomach is going to rip them flat off my torso.

i somehow managed to paint my toenails yesterday.  and i'm able to scrub my feet in the shower.  this is important.  i was told once that when in labor, it's best to have clean/pretty feet.  i can appreciate that.  dirty toenails are gross.

i pretty much have indigestion at all times during the day.  i swear that even water makes me burp.

all that to say, i'm healthy.  and happy.  and ready to be pregnant for 7 more weeks.  i'm not an early girl.  i'd rather be late.  yes, i really would be.  i learned my lesson with pratt.  big, chubby babies are my favorite.  when pratt was born, weighing over 8 pounds, i had no appreciation for how big he was.

i just remember seeing him in the nicu with all those wires and cords.  worrying.  about something going wrong.  and i think it was dr. zeurlein that said, "your baby is big and healthy.  i'm not worried at all about him making it.  he is gonna be fine."

and isn't that what you want to hear from someone when you've got a sick baby.  that they will be fine.  so i'm not wishing for anything to happen until my due date.  or maybe the day before.  i think pratt was born 5 days before his due date.  and that's okay too.  i just get nervous around now.

i go back next week for my 34 week check up.  i was shocked he wanted to see me.  i don't think i saw anyone at 34 weeks with pratt.  i'm pretty easy.  my blood pressure is low.  like, 108/67.  and i don't have any swelling yet.  a few braxton hicks...but that's no big deal.  i'm just thankful i'm still okay.  and doing well.

in other news, pratt just woke up and asked for lucky charms in chocolate milk.  gross.  and how did he think of this?  he's totally gonna have cavities next dental visit.  i'm blaming his dad.

and one more thing.  my sweet friend rebekah has a 3 year old daughter.  her name is avery.  avery was recently diagnosed with shingles.  horrible for that sweet baby girl.  and equally horrible for her 2 year old brother and 7 month old baby brother!  and not to mention for rebekah and aaron.

please, please keep avery in your prayers.  i've never had shingles, but from what i've heard, they can be extremely painful.  rebekah is one of the most patient people i know.  but i know that this has to be stressing her out.  so if you will be so kind, please keep them in your prayers.  or happy thoughts.  any small act of kindness would be greatly appreciated.

i hope you all have great days.  i'm hoping for a warm one.  i'm tired of this cold.

what I love most.

So I watch the real housewives of orange county. And I love it. If I could only watch one trashy reality show, I'd probably pick RHOOC. That's how much I love it.

Tonight a question was posed to one of the moms.

"what's your favorite part about being a mom?"

I thought immediately about what i would say.

And I think it's that I love being pratt's mom because of what that means in regards to pratt's dad.

I see clint in a totally different way. Do I sometimes wish he could read my mind when it comes to parenting? Yes. But I'm pretty sure he wishes I could read his too.

I see him in Pratt. And I see how much he loves him. And I appreciate all his hardwork. All the extra days he spends at kool smiles so that we can be happy. And have groceries. And a nice house filled with lots of things that we don't really need.

I love clint more today than the day I married him. And Pratt has so much to do with that.

Tonight, I feel blessed. Remind me of this next time I'm pulling my hair out.




Yes, they are drinking REAL coffee. And yes, Pratt has a mohawk AND a clipee in his hair. Idk...

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pop pop.

last night we met my dad for dinner. he drove over and met us at our favorite japanese sushi/steakhouse.

earlier in the day, i had driven down and mom and i had gone shopping for small table for the nursery. we found the perfect one. a small pedestal table, in a light blue. kind of a robin's egg blue. that was distressed. it really was perfect. and of course, mom bought it for me. because isn't that what moms do? they whip out their wallets before you even have time to reach for your purse. so thank you mom. i love it. i think it will be perfect once everything has it's own place.

clint and pratt had gone to the river to skip rocks. and then went to eat at sonic. i called on my way back to tell clint i was on my way home when i realized i had woken him. they both got much needed naps while i got a much needed shopping trip with mom.

all this to say that pratt needed a shower and change of clothes before going to meet dad for dinner.

i've said to clint on numerous occasions that when dressing pratt, i always pray for a nanny. because making that child put on clothes is one of the most difficult things i do all day. and that's saying a lot. because these days, i'm urinating so many times a day, that i swear i'm starting to smell like a nursing home. and making sure i don't smell like that is tough. it's an all day project.

anyway, pratt hates getting dressed. but yesterday wasn't really a problem because all i had to say was, "we're putting clothes on to have dinner with pop pop."

done. he was obedient. it's like magic.

dinner was unremarkable. clint and dad visited about basketball and horse racing. i told him about mom shushing some kids in a restaurant at lunch time (because if you know her, this is totally appropriate for her. while we are on the subject, these kids were so incredibly loud. way too loud for a restaurant. and the mother sat one table away just visiting with her parents. not having a care in the world. every other person in the place kept staring at these kids. wondering when she was going to turn around and tell them to keep it down. she never did. so cue my mother...)

dinner was great. pratt behaved really well. when we got up to leave, pratt wanted to show dad his new kitty cat. so dad hoped in the front with clint while i got in the back with pratt. he was so proud to show cupcake off. he just smiled and smiled while dad went on and on about how real she looked.


we had just pulled up to dad's car in the adjacent lot, when it hit pratt that he was leaving. and not going with us home.

it's hard to describe what happened next.

i saw pratt's bottom lip protrude...and immediately started telling him that we would see dad next weekend. we'd even spend the night if he'd like. dad was getting out of the front seat to come around and hug and kiss him. and it went from bad to worse.

pratt started crying, sobbing. it wasn't a mean spirited cry. not throwing a fit. just a complete and total broken heart.

as my dad opened the door to kiss him, i saw he had a pink highlighter in his hand. by this time my eyes were filled with tears. i couldn't control them. and i looked up at clint to see if he was as helpless as i was, and sure enough, his big brown eyes were filled too.

and needless to say, my dad's were too.

so there we were. four people, in a parking lot, crying like someone was going overseas for 2 years.

pratt grasped the highlighter and at first, almost couldn't bring himself to hug my dad. these gigantic crocodile tears kept rolling down his face.

he didn't stop crying until we pulled out of the parking lot and convinced him that we would go to the bookstore and he could play with choo choos.

i got a text from dad that said, "oh my god. i can't take it."

pratt has gotten upset before. he hasn't really ever liked to leave my dad. but nothing like this.

i kept saying to clint, "i just don't know what it is. it's like he would leave us to go with him any day. at any time."

this wouldn't have been strange, but recently separation anxiety has been alive and well with pratt.

as we were walking in hastings, clint said, "it has to make your dad feel good that pratt loves him that much."

maybe. maybe a small part of that is true. but i know that it kills my father. i know that he worried the entire way back home about it. i know that when he thinks of pratt in the morning, he will wonder if he's okay.

i woke at 3 am. it's now 4 am. and for a while i just lay in bed thinking about what happened between the four of us. mainly, i kept thinking about pratt. and what a gentle little soul he is.

i can't help but wonder how my child already knows my dad. how he already knows how much to love him. and how he already knows how much pop pop loves pratt.

and of course, because i'm the most depressing person in the world, i can't help but think about a day when my parents aren't around.

a good friend recently lost her father. quickly. one day he was here, enjoying his anniversary with his wife, and days later, he had a massive heartattack. she told me just the other day that her daughter was having a hard time with everything. that she missed her grandfather and that it hurt too much to talk about it.

my eyes filled up with tears when she told me that. and that's all i could think about as we pulled away from my dad last night. i've always said that when something happens to my mom and dad, that i'll go too. because i won't be able to handle it. but having a child puts a kink in the things. how in the world do you handle the grief when you have a child watching you? how do you ever begin to mourn...when you're so worried about your baby. about your baby hurting. and missing their grandparent?

i'm officially depressed. and officially can't breath and can't see the computer screen....

i've always known that my parents loved me and spencer more than anything in the world. when i became a parent, i realized it even more. to a different extent. on a different level.

and somehow, they love my child as much as they love their own children. they never get tired of the stories. of me calling them telling them something he has said or done. they will forever be his biggest fans.

so pratt, if you are reading this, you are so loved. by so many. your daddy and i are blessed to have family who love you as much as we do. one day when you're grown, you'll realize what this means. and how it has sculpted your life and made you who you are at this point.

have wonderful sundays. i'm gonna have my first cup of coffee right now. at 4:08 am. wonder if the newspaper is here. maybe i'll clip my coupons early. maybe i'll find a loose antidepressant that i could take. because i can't stop crying. (kidding. i won't even take tylenol.)

being pregnant is hard. being an emotional basketcase plus being knocked up is even more difficult. poor clint...

cupcake. and other things.

yesterday mom took us on a date.  she bought us tickets to see "if you give a pig a pancake" at the children's theater at the arkansas arts museum.

but first...we went in for my 32 week ob visit.  nothing new.  i literally walked in there at 1025 for my 1030 appointment.  and i was back in the waiting room with mom and pratt by 1040.  he scheduled me back for 2 weeks.  it's crazy.  this pregnancy has FLOWN by.  i think it's because pratt has been there to keep me occupied.

after the appointment, we went to the learning express toy store.  over at pleasant ridge.  it's the greatest toy store.  pratt kept running from toy to toy in shock...UNTIL he found the perfect petzzz.  and then he  was stuck on them for the rest of the time.

in typical cookie fashion, she bought him one.  a black and white kitten.  it purrs and breaths and looks so real that i've stopped dead in my tracks several times since yesterday for fear i was going to wake it up.  cookie named it cupcake.  and pratt thought that was a great name.















i mean, can you tell how proud he is!?  he loves her.  like, so much so that we ate at chick fil a right after we got her.  he begged to take her in.  but we said that pets weren't allowed.  so we went in, ate, and he went down the slide 2 times.  then he came running out asking if we could leave so he could hold his kitty cat.  YES!  didn't want to trade in his book for ice cream.  didn't want to play anymore.  just wanted the cat.

here are he and cookie waiting on the play to start.  he loved it.  it was so sweet to watch him giggle at the pig.  and laugh at the silly jokes.





when we got home, he carried cupcake everywhere he went.  here she is on his b.





he would hug her.  and then make me hug her.  as mom said, "it's the best 30 dollars i've ever spent".  seriously.  i couldn't agree more.  she slept with him last night.  curled up (because that's all she can do) on his pillow.  this morning when he came in our room, he had her with him.  her bed, her and her food and water.

we bought donuts and apple juice for her this morning at shipley's and he told everyone he met today that he had a new kitty cat named cupcake.





he gets his love of animals honestly.  my entire family are suckers for animals.  and his daddy is too.  and his daddy's daddy is too.  and his grandpa joe.  so at least his love is normal.  and not weird.

because it's not weird at all that he loves a fake cat.  nope.  not at all.

thanks again cookie for a wonderful thursday.  we really did have so much fun!

dear pratt.

dear pratt,

tonight you were completely and totally exhausted when i put you to bed.  your daddy tried to take you to your room and read your books, but you weren't having it.  i heard you whimpering and hurried in to see what was wrong.

me putting you to bed has become a habit.  something that you depend on.  we do the same thing every night.  every, single, night.

i tell you we are gonna read three books.  you say, "no mommy.  five.  five books."  i of course say no.  that five is too many.  and but i'll do four.  and that seems to be okay with you.   we read the books, then i tell you a story that i make up.  usually it's about the three little bears and an adventure they go on.  then we say our prayers.  then i kiss you.  i tell you i love you.  and that i will see you in the morning.

i think you like the routine part.  you know what to expect.  i like things that way too.  i want to know what's happening next.  i don't do surprises.

tonight you requested the giving tree.  we talked about the author.  you looked at his picture on the back of the book.  we talked about how he had a different name.  and you said, "i'd like to give him my hermit crab.  i fink he'd like him."

as i was reading the book, i began to wonder if i should be reading you more Bible stories.  i won't act like i do.  because i don't.  we talk about Jesus a lot.  and about God.  but you don't know much about the Bible at this point.  maybe i'm intimidated because i don't know a lot about the Bible.  and i'm 31.  you know a few worship kid songs...but more than that, you know nursery rhymes.  or little songs that i sing to you. like, "if i had a little red box, i'd put my pratt in..."  stuff like that.

i started to feel like i wasn't doing a good job...(that feeling that i get a million times throughout the day), when i realized that i was being silly.  i could hear my dad's voice loud and clear.  i could just imagine calling him and having this conversation.  he would tell me that my actions were more important than reading stories to you.  that you watch me every minute you're awake to see what i do.  how i handle situations.  and so i needed to worry less about the Bible stories at this point...and worry more about who hannah is.  and how hannah behaves.

so daunting.  so overwhelming.  but totally worth it.

i love you.  and i hope that i'm doing a good job as your mommy.  please know that i'm trying my best.

here's a little picture i captured yesterday of you and your daddy.  isn't it perfect?

xoxo, mommy.

anticipation.

we drove down to the river yesterday afternoon once clint got home and finished running.  we did this last year around this time, but pratt was too young to really understand the magic that is right down the road from us.

i want to photoshop several of the pictures before adding them.  but i had to put these 2 up this morning. the first is the anticipation of seeing the river.  the second is when he first spotted it.

i'm thinking that once he gets a wee bit older, i won't see him or his daddy during the spring/summer.  they will be fishing and exploring...and just spending a little time together.

the whole time we were down there, pratt kept saying, "i not go back to mommy and daddy's house.  i stay here forever!"

have great wednesdays!

buds.

we met the harris' at the park.  there are few things that pratt loves more than four kids who love him so very much.

since yesterday afternoon, i've been reminding him that when we leave the park, we can't cry.  because every single time we leave those kids, he cries.  i really thought i was getting somewhere.  when we pulled up, i said, "okay.  what's the rule today?"

and he goes, "when we yeave, no crying.  no hitting, biting, scratching, being mean.  i be nice.  pratt is nice.  and no crying."

i thought, great...he gets it.

wrong.  the only reason he didn't cry was because coleman and leyton rode with us.  here they are at sonic. waiting on happy hour snacks and drinks.  and yes, pratt is being a pirate.  i'd like to think this was coleman's idea...but i think it was all pratt's.

as soon as we pulled up in their driveway, pratt lost it.  sobbing.  choking on his corn dog.  screaming, "no mommy!  coleman go home with me for tea party!"

how old will he be when he stops crying everytime we leave them?

he's now fast asleep.  before his head ever hit the pillow, he said, "mommy, i need brothers sheep."  precious baby boy.

thirty two weeks pg.

somehow i'm 32 weeks pregnant this week.

that's 8 times 4.  or you can look at it like 3 plus 2 is 5.  which is really great.  because 3 is my favorite number.  and 5 is just awesome in itself.  anyway, i digress.  i have only 8 weeks left.  8.

and while i'm ready to meet max, i'm as nervous as a ten tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

but my nervousness has changed.  when i was here with pratt...at this point with pratt, i was worried (not enough.  ignorance is bliss :) about things like nursing and if i'd know what to do.  would i be sufficient for him?  good enough?

i'm not worried about those things now.  i realize now that we are always sufficient for our babes.  and that we are made good enough because of their presence.  because of their complete lack of self sufficiency.

and when he arrived...once he was about 2 weeks old, i worried about ever having another adult conversation.  about ever going to the grocery store again.  about ever traveling without ten million bags and entire cases of diapers and formula.  i worried i'd forever have to buy those disposable diaper changing mats so that i could lay that child out in any/all restaurant bathrooms to change a poop diaper.

none of that seems to worry me now.  i guess because i know that stage will pass by so quickly.  and i'm okay with that.  i'm not the greatest at little bitty babies.  i crave interaction.  and giggles.  and coos.  i used to beg God to give pratt a voice.  because i wanted conversation.  and as so many other times in my life, God gave me what i asked for....AND MORE.  because now pratt never stops.  and i'm okay with that.  because i remember the tears of desperation at night.  when he was tiny.  wishing i knew that i was doing good.  wishing i knew that we were gonna be okay.  because i swear there were MANY times i didn't know if that would be the case.

my worries now revolve around my sweet little man who is here with me now.  this is a kid who has never, ever, ever shared attention.  EVER.  he doesn't want to share attention.  it should really be all about him.  it's not a mean spirited personality trait.  just one of a two and a half year old toddler.

and more proof that we are not born able to put God first, others second...and ourselves third.  no.  not at all.  that's hard work.  and not yet learned when you're just a little kid.

and so i worry about how he will take this new child.  i feel like i should put signs up all around the house like, "this too shall pass" and "siblings are a gift from God".  things to remind me of why i wanted a sibling for pratt.  i know one day he will be thankful.  i honestly can't imagine my life without spencer.

i'm worried about finding that exact balance of spending extra pratt time...but not overdoing it.  not feeling guilty for bringing another baby here.  and in feeling guilty, doing things for him that i wouldn't/shouldn't otherwise do.  overdoing it.

because let me say, pratt needs it.  he needs to learn to share attention.  and his toys.  and his old room.  etc, etc.  but he is only two and a half.  and so it will take time.

there is one thing i'm excited about.  and that is that while i'm stuck here, in the house, in the first few weeks of the baby's arrival, i will have a friend.  that friend being pratt.  because we do have lots of adult conversations.  they may not be about the newest home trends...or the coolest new way to tie a scarf, but they are conversations, nonetheless.  and i love them.  and so i am excited that i won't feel so isolated.  (i've officially lost it, haven't i!?  i'm really excited about visiting with my toddler.  that's what we call "find the good in every freaking situation".  period.  the end.  i'm nuts.  but seriously, he really is like a 15 year old sometimes.)

every morning when he wakes, he says, "is baby max here yet, momma?" like maybe he's gonna miss him coming out of my belly button.  because, you know, that IS how all babies get out, right!?

and every morning i tell him that i promise he will know when max arrives.  he will be a part of the process.

of course, i know all this worry is futile.  because i never worry about the right stuff.  which leads me to prayer.  lots and lots of prayer.  the throwing-my-hands-in-the-air-prayer...in the middle of kroger.  begging God to give me patience.  and the normal kind.  the prayer that goes on in my head all day long.  me begging for Him to grant me wisdom.  and patience.  and kindness.  and love.

because i'm about to be a mom of two little boys.

and if there is one thing i want them to remember about me...and our house...it's that they were loved.

loved...oh, so much.

and because i don't think that gives you the true sense of what's going on....here's another one.

sometimes i just stand in the mirror wondering if maybe he's gonna fall off of me.  he hasn't dropped yet. but still seems so low.  idk.  crazy town.  for sure.

happy tuesday!

spring.

i think spring is my second favorite season.

well, right now, i'd say first favorite.  most favorite.  but then fall rolls around and i'm so ready for pumpkins and spice candles and fall decoration and mostly COOL weather, and i crave fall.  and i claim fall is my favorite.

anyway, today is the first day of spring.  and pratt and i have spent much of our day outside.  but it's almost 5 now and the wasps are fierce at our house.  and so i made him come in.  they seem to peak right around now.

clint bought us new chairs for our front porch yesterday.  i think they are my anniversary present.  along with my imac that i got for christmas.  i think it's supposed to be any/all gifts for the next 2 to 3 years :)

anyway, we've had a good day.  pratt wore shorts for the first time.  and we made our own cherry sprites.  and we didn't wear shoes. and we sat in our new red chairs and visited.  just me and my little boyfriend.

life is good.

update.

i feel like i've been in the twilight zone for several days.

i got sick early saturday morning...and am just now recovering.  of course, now clint has it :)  whatever "it" is.

it started with a headache, congestion, etc.  and progressed to throwing up.  my least favorite thing in the entire world to do.  seriously, i'd rather undress on the streets of nyc and dance the mambo, than throw up.

the throwing up led to dehydration...which led to some pretty scary contractions.  i wish i had a videotape running at my house at all times.  you would have seen me crumble to the floor like a crazy person.  i was standing in the living room with pratt...and all of a sudden one hit.  and it was like a solid 2 minute one.  it got worse and worse.  i made it to the couch and pratt was hurling books at me.  "read this, mommy!"

i tried.  and was told, "no! better voices mom.  you're not doing it right!"  it was "how do dinosaurs eat their food."  and i didn't want to do "better voices".  i really just wanted a t. rex to come eat me.  so i would escape the pain of the contractions plus the demands of my 2.5 year old.

now i'm just stopped up.  and coughing.  i can't stop coughing.  which means i'm constantly wetting my pants.  gross, yes.  but come on.  it's for real.  and everytime i cough, pratt says, "maybe you should have some more drink".  which is good, i guess.  because as several friends said, my contractions were most likely from the dehydration.

so you can find me here, playing games with invisible robots...taking pretend trips to froger (kroger) and having tea parties with pratt.  while snacking on gushers.  yes, the candy that causes cavities.  but i saw last week that the first time i went to the dentist, i had 8 cavities.  EIGHT!  pratt is already doing better than me...since he didn't have any the first time...so, he can have gushers.

on a separate note, in searching for nursery ideas...i've come across so many great sites.  there are a ton of things i want to do to my house now :)  but they are things on a budget.  my dream is to have an all white/cream/light blue/silver living room.  i found this site from my friend lauren, (i think)...

www.thenester.com

her stuff is some of my favorite.  she has these stripped curtains that are to die for.  i won't be able to walk in cynthia east for a solid year for fear of finding the fabric. and then using all my grocery money on fabric for curtains.  seriously though...they are divine.

anyway, today pratt and i are going to be working on the nursery.  and doing laundry.  and drinking water. and probably wetting our pants.  well, i will.  not him.

have a great monday!

milk and cookies.

last night clint and Pratt shared warm chocolate chip cookies and cold milk. They sat on the couch together and shared it all.

Pratt is at an age/stage where everything clint does is cool. Or "awesome" as p would say.

So today we had finished up some errands when Pratt asked if we could "go to Starbucks and get big chocolate cookies and cold milk"!

He really wanted his dad to be there...but i guess I was ok. Since I was all he had.








These really are the best days of my life. Hands down. For sure.

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homer. the butterfly.

so we released our butterflies and ladybugs today.  it was around 78 degrees...and it's been breaking my heart seeing those butterflies in that net for so long.  speaking of animals breaking my heart...did you see the dog in japan who wouldn't leave the sick dog beside him!?  oh heavens.  i am crying thinking about it.  but apparently they've been rescued and are receiving vet help.  i'd like to think that the vet looks like jacob jankowski.  anyway, thank goodness for the rescue.

so back to the story, one of our butterflies didn't fly away.  i don't think she knows how.  her wings seem to work fine.  she just can't seem to get airborne. but i couldn't leave her outside to die.  so...just call me dr. doolittle.

because we now have 2 dogs, a cat, a hermit crab, a little brother on the way...AND a flightless butterfly.  that pratt is carrying around the house.  she just sits in his hand.  walks on his arm.  whatever is fine with her.

the first picture was when we tried to release her into the wind today.  not happening.  she walked everywhere.  or jumped.  the next two are from inside just a few minutes ago.

we've named her homer.  because she'd rather be here at home with us.  if you know of anyone wanting to adopt a painted lady butterfly, call me.  :)

frank.

I can't stop crying looking at this picture.




I have a cousin named frank. He's one of those really pretty people. Dark, shiny hair and big, dark almond shaped eyes.

And while pratts dark eyes came from his daddy...I'm convinced that Pratt must look like my mothers side of the family too. Because seeing this picture reminds me so much of frank.

And why is he so grown up? Why?! I'm depressed now.

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thirty one weeks.

I'm fairly certain that my stomach cannot get any bigger. Seriously. It's the size it was at 36 weeks with Pratt.

I feel like my doctor is going to see me next week and say, "Hannah, we must have miscalculated your due date. You're really 38 weeks pregnant."





I mean, I swear that I can hear my poor jeans scream when I reach for them. The front part of the tummy band. It's tired. Wishes I'd put the jeans away. And they are the only jeans I'll wear. Because the others have a full panel over the tummy. No thanks. That's wayyy to hot for me. I'm sweating thinking about it.

Anyway, all that to say that while I am getting crazy big, I'm so happy that this little guy continues to grow. I really am.

I think tomorrow I'm gonna teach Pratt how to a. Tie shoes and b. Paint toenails.

Then everything will be perfect.

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dear max.

dear max,

first, remind me when you're born to spank your bottom for all the kicking you've been doing lately.  seriously kid.  seriously.  i'm pretty sure my ribs are broken.

okay.  now on to the bigger, more important issues.

your big brother loves you more than you could possibly understand.  today he helped me wash some of your clothes and linens.  we were putting the sheet on your bed, when pratt came across your sleep sheep that nana bought you.  needless to say, pratt had a million questions about it.  what it was.  why it made noises.  who got it for you.  where did nana buy it.  (he thinks all things are bought at kroger.  so explaining to him what pottery barn was...was, well...difficult.  he didn't understand why they didn't have a gumball machine at the front.  or dora yogurt available for purchase.)

anyway.  when it came time for him to take a nap, i was tucking him in when he asked if he could sleep with "baby max's sheep."  i told him that i thought you would love that.  he told me that he would sleep with it until the day you got out of my belly and then he would give it back.  (i think he thinks i ate you.)

i just want you to know now how much he loves you.  because i know there will be days when you two fight.  and someone is gonna hit someone else.  and then that one is gonna tattle.  and feelings will be hurt.  and punches will be thrown.  etc, etc.

i'm gonna apologize now for how much of a know-it-all he's gonna be.  i know this because i've seen myself with my little sister.  i was horrible.  she loved me and i was a total and complete self centered little problem child.

but through it all, i know that he will appreciate you.  just like i appreciate my sister.  because at the end of the day....all we really have is family.

pratt has mentioned several times that when you get here, he wants you to do certain things with him.  like, find rocks.  go fishing.  he really wants you to sleep with him.  he says he will teach you that the fire alarms aren't scary.  (i think this is going to be good for him.  maybe convince him that they really aren't scary.  he's totally freaked out by them.) he wants to take bubble baths with you.

and i'm sure there will be a time when he wants to give you back.  because you'll be crying.  and i won't be able to fix it.  and he will probably freak out.  and ask me to make "it" stop crying.

through all that...and even more...i promise that he loves you.  and that we love you too.  and that one day you will be thankful you have him as a big brother.

i love you.

mommy.

brothers.

i'm trying to figure out what all i want to use to decorate the nursery.  i'm using pratt's bedding.  i always promised myself that i would if i was blessed with another baby.  and as stacy said, "use the money you were going to spend on new bedding on matching outfits for the boys" :)

i love that.  "the boys".

as spencer said, "hannah and the boys".  it makes my heart so happy.

anyway, i came across a picture today.  something you can have personalized.  and i wanted to share it.  i absolutely adore it.  and can just see it hanging in the boy's bathroom.

here it is.

i mean, are you kidding me!?  how adorable is this!?

here is the site i found.  i believe she links the site where you can buy one for yourself.  i haven't even looked to see how expensive it's gonna be.  but i have to have it.  pratt and max.  perfect.

http://themodernmom.net/?paged=6

have a wonderful tuesday!

doing my part.

My child just brought his plate in from the living room. Yes. I'm that mother that let's him eat at his desk in the living room. For breakfast. Not for family meals.

Anyway, he was carrying it in and said, "I'm gonna throw this away for you."

I thanked him and told him that that was so kind and helpful. And I really appreciated it.






It was then he looked up at me and said, "no problem. I'm just trying to do my part."

Isn't that hilarious!? I say this all the time. Pratt, do your part. All the time. He is a parrot. And I'm gonna for sure get in trouble soon. I can feel it coming...

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dear pratt.

dear pratt,

By the time you read this, you will be old enough to have fully grasped just how different me and your daddy are. I pray that you fall somewhere in the middle.

Your dad has started running again. I think maybe bc he's going to do the half marathon next year with sugar, Ty Ty and pop pop. He hasn't run in a while. The weather has been too cold. But it's getting pretty so he's picked it up again. This has caused him to 1. Eat better and 2. Clean out his closet.

Let me say now that if he begins to lose weight while I'm pregnant, I'm gonna kill him. No one around me needs to be losing weight at this point.

Anyway. He cleaned out his closet and was getting ready to throw away 2 old, worn out pair of shoes.





Do you notice anything weird about this picture? Yes. The pair he has on is the exact match to the two pair he's throwing away. AND get this...there is another pair EXaCTLY the same upstairs in his closet. In a box that has NEVER been opened.

He buys his shoes in bulk, Pratt. BULK. He's totally OCD. And whatever the opposite of that is...that's me.

Also, he has the skinniest legs ever. And again....opposite city. Me, well...I have the chubbiest. Awesome.

In all seriousness, I hope you grow up to be just like your daddy.

I love you. Mommy.


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coffee.

Pratt always begs for coffee when he sees someone else drinking it. So this morning, he asked again for some.

I added a little to a cup, poured in lots of milk, and added some sugar. Needless to say, he loves it!!


This is gonna be a problem...

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here buggy, buggy.

mom got pratt a bug vacuum at a great little toy store in little rock.  we searched all day yesterday for bugs in hot springs.  but came up empty handed.  we even searched EVERY SINGLE water spout looking for "isty".  not my idea.  HIS idea.

well, all we needed was a little country livin' to find bugs.  in about 30 seconds, we found a gnat and a ladybug.  i don't know if it was sheer luck or the song that pratt sang.  it went something like this, "here little buggy, buggy.  come over here to me.  i have a bacuum cleaner for you!"











also of note.  nancy just picked him up for a date and he told her that his daddy was a dentist.  she asked him if he was going to be a dentist when he grew up.  he told her no.  that he was going to be a daddy.

:)  i believe that is proof of many things.  1. how much he loves his daddy and 2. what an incredible daddy he has.

happy BEAUTIFUL saturday!

max.

last night pratt talked a whole lot about his little brother.

it all started because i was (get ready to picture this...) standing in the kitchen, shirt completely hiked up, scratching my belly.  i was scratching so hard that i was leaving red, fingernail marks on my pale, dry skin.  it was one of those moments where you really wish you had a round brush.  i would have gone to town.

anyway, clint was making his dinner and pratt was watching me.  with a mixed bit of fascination and sheer what kind of world am i gonna grow up in because my mom is obviously craaaaaazy.

genetics took over and he walked over to me and said, "mommy, i help you scratch your itches." and away he went.  scratching my tummy for me.  he's the best.

after that, he wanted to talk to max.  feel him move.  watch him move.  talk to him some more.

we did all that, and he still wasn't satisfied.  he wanted to hold him.  and he wanted to know what he looked like.  "does he wook wike me, mommy?"

i remembered that picture we had taken at 20 weeks.  it's on our fridge.  from the ultrasound.  and so i grabbed it, and showed pratt where his nose was.  where his ribs were.  his feet, hands, backbone, etc.

he loved it.

so much so that he wanted to take it to his room.  and hang it on his wall.  i talked him out of taping it to his wall.  instead, we put it in a frame.  on one of his bedside tables.  and he loves it.

on our way upstairs he said, "mommy, max is my most favorite baby ever. i really wuv him."  adorable.

while we read books, he would randomly say, "okay.  i wook at max, now."  and lean over to see him.  so sweet.

i guess all this...plus other stuff on my mind has been overwhelming.  and probably all these hormones running through my body.  i'm a big crier.  always have been.  but now, now it's like i'm either crying my face off or screaming at someone.  tonight, i was crying.

he asked to read "the giving tree" which is hands down, one of my favorite books.  and so i did.  we've read it before.  i don't know why, but when the boy comes to the tree and says he doesn't want to swing from his branches, he just wants to make money...i LOST it.  when the tree offers up the apples to the boy so he can sell them in the city, i DOUBLE LOST it.  i couldn't keep reading.  i was having to wipe my face, hold the book, convince pratt i wasn't about to crumble.  he kept looking at me...trying to figure out if i was sad or happy or somewhere in between.

i remember my mother as a child.  watching a sad movie.  and crying.  i remember her attempts to tell me that they were "happy tears".  i used that exact term last night.  and pratt gave me the look i'm sure i always gave my mother.

until last night, i always wondered why the tree would give everything away.  i mean, i knew why.  i just didn't "get it".  it never clicked.  but last night, it did.  sitting there, with pratt.  and with max looking on from the table...and from my belly...and hearing clint clean up the kitchen after dinner...it all hit me.

it made sense why the tree gave up all he had.

we read that book twice.  and both times i cried like a baby.  after the second time pratt said, "maybe next time daddy should read this one, mommy."

i laughed and told him that was probably a good idea.

have wonderful weekends!

30 whole entire big weeks knocked up.

pretty much, that title sums it ALL up.

this baby is supposed to weigh around 3.1 pounds.  i'd say he weighs more like 10.1 pounds.  and his foot is a solid man's 14.

how do i know?  because he kicks my bladder with it all.the.time.  like, so much so that it's starting to go from "uncomfortable" to "in pain".  it literally feels like he's going "heel to toe" on my poor bladder.  there was this girl that went to high school with me that bounced when she walked.  like, think heel/toe/bounce, heel/toe/bounce over and over and over again.

i assume that's what max is gonna walk like.

my shirts don't cover my stomach at this point.  it's like laura said, "why don't they remember they are MATERNITY clothes!?"  amen, laura.

dear liz lange, make this tent go to my feet.

i'm always hungry.  always thirsty.  always mad.

i will chew anyone out at any point in time.  just look at me wrong, and you too will be on the crap list.  pratt flipped when we left the park today.  pinched my face and wouldn't stop crying.

ask him how that went over.  i swear he would say, "turd in punchbowl".  because that's literally how it went over.  we went to walmart shortly thereafter and not only was he denied ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING HE WANTED (including some new yogurt and even dutch chocolate milk), he was also insistent on going to clint's office and telling him about his "bad behavior" so he could get it over with.  i told him he was going to need to tell his daddy when he got home from work.

pratt's exact words were, "can i go now so i not have to wait all that time?"

and yes.  this school psychologist is using the term "bad behavior".  i'm not putting a spin on it.  i'm not sugar coating this crap.  it was bad.  not "negative" or "undesirable".  it was "bad".  like a bank robbers.  or a criminals.  B.A.D.  that's the kind of mood i'm in.  poor clint.

i guess that's it.  if i keep typing, i'm gonna start cussing.  kidding...sort of.

happy (or in my case, grumpy) thursday!

wobot.

because i have NEVER had an original thought...

and because i can't force myself to spend obscene amounts of money on cute decor for my child's room...

pratt and i often make our own artwork.

this morning, i was looking through a pottery barn kids magazine.  which i shouldn't do.  because it just keeps me from being content.  and it makes me wish that i were all the things i'm not.  rich, talented, creative, etc, etc.

but i saw a few framed pictures of robots.  and thought pratt would love them.  it looked to me like they were made out of construction paper...and had simply been framed.  easy, peasy.

so we copied.

we had a good time.  and i think it turned out just great.

i tried to get a name for him.  but after hearing "coleman" and "hermit crab", i said, "no.  those are taken.  what does he look like?"

and pratt said, "he wooks wike a wobot, mom!"  duh.

we finally came up with "scout".  as in our dog, scout.  because as i said previously...no one around here is creative.  or original.

missing.

today i miss my parents.  it's only 744 am, and i still have this feeling right in the center of my chest that feels heavy.

i was home sunday night, into monday...and realized that it really will always be my first home.  it will always be so comfortable there.  it's the house i grew up in.  the house i left college from.  the house i slept in the night before i got married.

i know i'm not far away, but sometimes i feel like it.  i wish that pratt knew what it was like to run across the street and just walk in that back door.  have the metal strip across the bottom creak as your foot hits it.  have the door squeak when you begin to close it.  i wish he knew what it was like to walk up to that refrigerator and open the door to any food you could dream of.  fresh cut fruit, 3 kinds of coffee creamer, cheese, leftovers of every sort.

mom and i came back from lunch monday to find pratt and my dad on the couch.  sitting as close to one another as two people could sit.  pratt didn't have his b, but didn't seem to mind.  they were watching cartoons.  and were happy as i've ever seen either of them.

i wish i could witness that every single day.

life goes by too quickly.  i'm aware of that now, today moreso than ever before.

i'm sure that clint feels like it was just yesterday he was sitting with his mamaw, visiting in their living room.

so pratt, for the record...when you grow up and move away.  don't think for a second you're allowed to leave the street i live on.  i'll just die.  i really will.

pictures.

a few pictures. from the past couple of days...



























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