And that's as far as we've gotten

So, you wanna see Hamp's nursery?


Welp. Here it is...

And it's been that way for the past week or two.

We did actually manage to get registered this past weekend. And we found a little time to start painting. I say 'we'. What I should say is 'they'. The only thing I painted were my fingernails.

What I should've had painted were those dark roots. It's okay. When you've got a handy dandy tool girl as cute as that beside you, everything else falls to the wayside.

I've got my next doctor's appointment on Wednesday. I always look forward to hearing his little heartbeat. Something tells me this boy's gonna be hyper, like Kate....and their daddy, of course. So far it seems that the only thing my kids are gonna inherit from me are my long toes.

Lucky kids.

Wordless Wednesday

6 months

Earning Her New Digs

I think it was Warren G and Nate Dog that said, "You've gotta be handy with the steel hammer, if you know what I mean, earn your keep."



Friday:




Kate helped M to the Izz-A all weekend putting together the pieces for her new room. She helped put her big girl bed together and helped paint the toy shelf that Daddy made.


Saturday:

Sunday: our day of rest! Thank goodness!

Monday:

Junior just didn't have it in him to find the humor in the fact that Kate thought his nose needed a fresh coat of paint.

Her room no longer looks like a nursery. It's a 'big girl' room as we call it. Click here to see the before: Kate's nursery.

And this is the after:

And I ordered these cute art prints and matching door sign from etsy. They should be in any day now.

I love reorganizing, moving around furniture, and remaking over rooms, but this one was bittersweet for me. I can't believe my little girl doesn't need a crib anymore, and that she actually sleeps better in a real bed. The first night I saw her lying in bed, I had to smile to myself as I found comfort in the fact that she still looks so little in a 'real' bed. I was so glad she did. She's still little to me. And it seems she's growing up way to fast, as cliche as that sounds.

Tonight I copied some lyrics into the little journal that I keep for her from the Sidewalk Prophets song, "The Words I Would Say":

Be strong in the Lord and, never give up hope.

You're gonna do great things,

I already know,

God's got His hand on you,

Don't live life in fear,

Forgive and forget,

But don't forget why you're here,

Take your time and pray,

These are the words I would say.

Thank God for each day.

Before I had a child I used to think about what it would be like to have kids, and how I hoped that they'd be good at this or good at that... a great athlete, prom queen, valedictorian or whatever. But now it's not that all. As long as my children love the Lord with all of their heart, and have a heart serving Him and others before themselves, I'll be one proud, happy mommy. When it comes down to it, none of that other stuff really matters, at all.

Wow. I just realized I quoted a rap song (old school as it may be) and a praise and worship song all in one post.

Nice.

The Animal Kingdom Has It Out For Me

Today I just about got taken out by a goat.


I'll let you sit and ponder that one for a while...


There I was just minding my own business, driving home from work, when out of nowhere a random goat darted out in front of me in a spastic attempt at crossing the two-lane road that I travel daily. The best part? I'm almost positive it had on a collar. A red one. Which leads me to believe it belonged to someone and that it wasn't 'wild'. Nonetheless, it woke me out of my mental to-do list pretty quickly. And on a side note, have you ever seen a goat run? I mean really go at it? It. is. hilarious. It in no way, shape, or form looks natural. It looks like what I used to picture myself looking like when I used to run track in high school. I always pictured myself looking pretty dang awkward.

This wasn't my first animal encounter of sorts. I feel like I'm living my own personal episode of "When Animals Attack". Over the summer, while on my evening run, down my routine running route, a chicken frantically darted out of the bushes in front of me and I had to hurdle it, Olympic hurdler-style. Except I was way less graceful. I about bit the dust. A few quick, yet clumsy stutter steps saved me from losing my front teeth to the concrete. I actually felt the chicken's feathers flap on my thigh.

Only in my town would this kind of stuff happen. Listen. I love the south and I love the country, but dang. I've gotta draw the line somewhere. And can we preferably make the line somewhere between the animals and me?

Wordless Wednesday

And you thought they were called sheets...

Hmm, let's see if I even remember how to blog...



Kate has done wonderfully without her paci. In fact, she's moving right along in several areas. She'll be making a transition from her crib to a big girl bed coming soon. Tonight I went and picked up her bedding and now we just need a mattress. I know, I'm pretty sure I should have purchased a mattress before the bedding. But, that's no fun. Speaking of bedding, is M to the Izz-A the only person that calls bedding (sheets, comforter, etc) "bed clothes"? Yeah, that's what I thought. I tried putting into words how incredibly weird that sounds, but he just looked at me in his cute, southern boy confusion.



Hamp is growing and so am I. I can't wait to post my 6 month belly pic next week. You won't believe how my bump, my lovely lady bump, has grown. This pregnancy is speeding by and his room is currently still our officeguestroomthroweverythingweowninthere room. There's still plenty of time, I just remember having everything done by now when I was pregnant with Kate. The second time around is obviously a little different. I'm excited to set up his nursery and am really loving picking out all this boy stuff. And while we're talking about my lil' man, some of you wanted to know how we decided on his name, Hamp Aaron. It's pretty simple. Hamp is a name that we loved for its super-boyish, southern charm and Aaron is M to the Izz-A's middle name. Not to mention it goes well with Kate. So, there you have it. Nothing too deep. We're pretty simple folks, ya know.



Last weekend we took Kate to the circus. She really seemed to enjoy herself and particularly loved the elephants and trampoline stunts. I was a bit thrown off however, by one of the "sideshows", as they like to call them. The one I'm referring to had a lady harnessed to a rope with nothing but her ponytailed hair. She kept swinging back and forth over the audience. Mmkay, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that that easily beats M to the Izz-A out with his "bed clothes" term on the weirdness scale. Heck, I mise well join the circus and swing by my navel, which has taken it upon itself to go ahead and pop on out way earlier than last time.

Then I got all emotional and stuff

Big things people, big things:

Operation Paci Be Gone was a success! Kate has not had a paci since Thursday night.

We are so proud of her. She really amazes me. She didn't make it as hard on us as I thought she would. Thanks Kate!

But at the same time of feeling so proud (and relieved), I just got all emotional and teary-eyed uploading this next picture, because I realize it's the last one like this she'll ever take:

Dec. 2009

I'm blaming the fact that actually shed a tear or two while typing this post completely on my pregnancy hormones.

I blame a lot of things on my hormones lately.

Like the dream I had last night where Zac Efron noticed that I needed to shave my legs as we were leaving church.

Have I ever even thought twice about Zac Efron? Absolutely not. I prefer a manly man (and one that looks like he's old enough to drive), like say....M to the Izz-A?

Does Zac Efron even attend my church? Absolutely not.

Do I really need to shave my legs? Absolutely.

Again, with the hormones.