You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ category.

Last week, when E linked up to my post on emyselfandi, I got over 300 hits.  This is about 4 times what my traffic typically is.  So, for my first confession, that is the main reason why I’m linking up today.  That was such an ego boost for my little blog here!

I’m knitting a scarf for me.  I feel a little bit guilty about it, because I’m pregnant and so many of my friends are pregnant.  I should be knitting baby stuff, right?  I knit during my downtime at work.  My co-workers will ask me what I’m making, and I say “A scarf for me, BUT as soon as I finish it, I’m going to start knitting for Baby.”  This is true, but I’m always very quick to mention what I’m going to knit next to avoid any judgmental eyes (that would probably never come).

I miss Knoxville.  So does Gregg.  I idealized moving away, now I idealize moving back.  We like it here on the Eastern Shore (more and more-its rhyme time, apparently).  We love our house and our farm, and I love my job (once I drive the hour to get there).  But, we miss home and the people there.

Aspen

We got a new dog.  Her name is Aspen.  She is enormous.  More than 100 pounds of Great Pyranees?  Probably so.  This is a confession, because she makes 5 pets for us.  But!  She’s a working girl.  Gregg got her to keep predators away from…

Sheep

these three (hopefully) pregnant girls…

Chickens

as well as these mama hens.  I think she’s doing a good job because she spends all night barking.

Last confession, I don’t really like turkey that much.  Happy Thanksgiving!

Advertisements

These days, it seems like to be a mom, you have to be an interior designer, gourmet cook, writer, and overall creative genius.  While I love Pinterest and blogs as much as the next girl. Sometimes as I’m perusing the Web, I just  think: Woa, that looks pretty, but I could never do that, and I don’t really want to try.  Trying to would mean a way-too-early dose of Mommy Guilt that I’m just not ready for.

That said, I’ve been looking at doable projects for Baby that I could actually complete.  There are projects and there are PpppprrrrrOOOOoojjjjeeeeeCCCCCTTTTsssssssss.  I’m more into the former.  I like to start a project, work on a project, and finish a project in a timely manner.  If it takes too long (unless its knitting), I get frustrated or annoyed and lose interest.  (I feel similarly about dinner, too.  Sorry, Gregg.)  Here are some doable baby DIY projects (not PpppprrrrrOOOOoojjjjeeeeeCCCCCTTTTssssssss)  that I like and may attempt.

Doable Project: Monogrammed Canvas with Buttons

Doable Project: Mobile

Doable Project: Another mobile with other cutie vintage pictures that I couldn’t crop out. 🙂

Doable Project: Lace in Embroidery hoops

This is from the Nester.  The subtitle of her blog is: It doesn’t have to be Perfect to be Beautiful. This is the life statement that I didn’t know I had.  Doesn’t look like baby, but still very feminine, which I like.

Not a project, just inspiration.  I love the turquoise Chevron pattern.

And then there’s knitting.  There’s about a bogozillion things that I would like to knit for this baby.  Here’s just one.

Poncho

My baby HAS to make this face if I make her this poncho.

Its hard to tell if I thought of any of these ideas myself or if they were all stolen from Pinterest.  Maybe I can say “inspired by”, as opposed to “stolen from.”

By the way, we found out that we’re having a girl!!  In case you couldn’t tell by my ultra-feminine design board here.

What I’m thankful for…

Pumpkin spice lattes AND Gingerbread lattes from Starbucks.  (I usually get decaf, ok?)

Birthday money, including a gift certificate to Gap.

Two dogs, two cats, and a sweet husband.

A BFF coming to see me this weekend with her husband and baby.

A job that’s my most favorite that I’ve ever had.

A baby and a belly that’s just starting to poke out.

Holidays coming up where we get to see family, both coming to us and going to them.

A free dinner tonight, thank you drug rep.

Pay day.

Plants purchased at a discounted price (anything purchased at a discounted price!).

Connecting with my friends that live on the other side of the country (Meg and Julie).

Talking to other pregnant girls about being pregnant (especially about maternity clothes).

The beginning of my 29th year.

Scarves, sweaters, knitting, fall colors.

Its sometimes hard to get started, but once you get going, more things to be thankful for just keep coming up.  This was effective therapy, since I felt like I had been too negative lately. (Example: a post entitled “woes.”)

More first trimester thoughts

I’ve become very introspective in the past couple of weeks.  And I love it.  Maybe that’s weird, but I’m finding comfort in going into myself(?)  Sorry to sound hyper-spiritual.  Its been a little strange because I’ve been craving community and people that know me, but I’ve been wanting to be myself and read and sit in the hammock and…just be.

My most recent visit to the OB/Gyn was empowering.  I’ve been hesitant to get super worked up about wanting to have a natural labor.  I’ve seen friends be absolutely devastated when their birth didn’t go as they expected.  I didn’t want that for them, and I don’t want that for me.  I’ve been protecting myself from the possibility of this kind of disappointment.  Also, after working in the hospital with pregnant women both right before and after they have their babies, I’ve seen the outcome of different types of delivery is basically the same.  When a healthy baby is born, it doesn’t seem to matter how their baby was delivered.  But the process (the pregnancy and the birth) is important, I missed that before.  I talked to my OB about how I’m used to being an observer, but, now that I’m a participant, I’m beginning to see things differently.  Also, not working in the hospital any more, I think I’ve gotten some of my compassion back and lost some of my cynicism.  That place does it to ya.

My Ob/Gyn encouraged me that its okay for me to have an opinion and to want to approach my pregnancy, labor and birth in a specific way.  She encouraged me to write down the interventions that I would want and not want.  To this, I told her that I know how nurses respond when a patient rolls into the unit with a Birth Plan.  They roll their eyes and prepare for the worst.  (What is it with nurses?  I think, we’re both the meanest and nicest people in the world.)

I’m developing my pregnancy/childbirth/parenting reading list and loving it.  I’m open to suggestions.

My high school reunion is coming up.  Is it terrible that I don’t want to go?  Okay, I’m sure I’m not the only one that feels like this.  AND I’d like to think that if I was closer than 10 hours away from my hometown I would go.  Actually, come to think of it, I definitely would go if for no other reason than it is being held in the Sunsphere.  I love that place.

Sunsphere

Weirdly, I love the Sunsphere almost as much as a I loved high school.  I’m kind of surprised at myself.  If I loved high school so much, why wouldn’t I want to go to my reunion?  I can think of a few reasons: Disappointment, Awkwardness, Comparison, Pressure.  Not sure where all these come from, but there they are.  Looming over every high school reunion that’s ever taken place.

Not to be totally Negative Nancy, I ran into a bunch of my high school friends at Joe’s wedding several weekends ago in Knoxville.  To me, it was an ideal substitute for a reunion.  There were a large number of my high school friends in attendance at both the rehearsal dinner and the ceremony.  I had some great conversations with friends that I hadn’t talked to in years.  And it wasn’t awkward.

 

I have watched this video of the U.S. swim team lip syncing “Call Me Maybe” several times, and it makes me so happy every time.   So, I thought, what else is making me happy?   This isn’t my normal train of thought. I tend to be vulnerable and focus on what’s hard, but I’m going to try something new.

The Olympics, in general, are making me happy, although I’m really sad that gymnastics is over.

Ruffle Scarf

Ruffle Scarf by Jennifer Lang

Knitting is making me happy.  My first project of the season is this scarf.  By this season, I mean the Fall/Winter/cold months.  I’m starting very very early, but its something that makes me feels productive and relaxed at work during down time.  Supposedly once school starts, things get crazy around the office.

Two Dogs and a Truck

This precious picture is making me happy.  Doesn’t it look like a professional took it??  That would be the work of Gregg and Instagram.

Trying to be Tech-savvy is making me happy.  So…what’s making YOU happy?

I love the Olympics.  I’m surely not getting enough sleep this week (or next).  But, that’s why they invented coffee, right?  I’ve basically been crying nonstop ever since the Opening Ceremonies last Friday.  Even the commercials are tearjerkers.

Its sappy, its exciting, its sentimental and nostalgic.  Love it.

My only complaint is knowing what happens before hand.  I LOVE surprises, and its just not as fun to watch a swim meet knowing whose going to win.  So, I have to work to not find out what happens.  I know that this is very repetitive, and I’m by far not the first one to chime in on “Olympics in the digital age,” but oh well.  Chime.  Chime.  Chime.

Confession: I was a cheerleader.  Part of the reason I turned to cheerleading was because I could never get the hang of all the different events in gymnastics.  And, I hate chalk.  I started gymnastics when I was 6 or 7 with my best friend E.  She went on to become a level 10 gymnast (E, correct me if I’m wrong).  Level 10 is one level below Elite.  And Elite=Olympics.  So, she got better and better and I couldn’t even flip myself over the bar.  Instead, I tried show choir, tennis, swimming, and I forget what else.  I was terrible at all of them (except show choir).  And, by seventh grade, I was determined to be good at something, to do something well.  After not making the cheerleading squad at my middle school, I took “cheer lessons.”  They were more like tumbling classes, and I was determined to learn how to do a backhand spring.  For those of you that don’t know, on tumbling passes, you start off with a round-off, then you do a backhand spring afterwards to continue to move across the floor.  In the Olympics, the roundoff-backhand spring combo is the starting point for all of the other flips and twists that come next.  But, for me, my goal was the elusive backhand spring.  Learning how to tumble would give me a leg up for cheerleading tryouts the following year.

Suspense…is…building…

After a year of hard work and weekly classes, I learned how to do a backhand spring.  And, for better or worse, I was a cheerleader in 8th grade and all through high school.  The Olympics is making me reminisce about my pseudo-athletic days.  I feel strangely connected to these world class gymnasts for no reason except that I grew up wanting to be like them but couldn’t quite get there.   Instead, I learned how to to something else that remotely resembled gymnastics and didn’t have chalk.

I spent the weekend hanging up pictures on the walls in our house.  I realized that our house is like a mini-tribute to the local artists of Knoxville.  See for yourself.  I apologize for the cookedness/blurriness/poor lighting of the photos.

Not a painting of Gregg, although we are often asked that. Its by Natalie Reagan out of her portrait series.

Custom-painted for us by Ashley Addair.

Also by Ashley Addair.

By Beth Meadows. Cool frame, huh?

A gift from my Mom from the recently closed printing press, Yee Haw.

Also, from Yee Haw.

We love and miss you, Knoxville.

I had to drive Gregg’s truck this morning.  No me gusta.  He says that he can’t imagine not enjoying driving a 10-year old F-150 pick-up truck.  Well, believe it.  Along with feeling every bump, crack, and dip in the road, the thing is just too big for me.   I can hardly reach the pedals.

AND!  Both of the door handles are broken.  So, to get out of the car you have to roll down the crank windows, reach outside and open the door from the outside.

I admit, I’m totally be a snob about this.  When we were dating Gregg nicknamed me “Bratastic 5000.”  Luckily,it was too long of a nickname to actually catch on.

We’ve been in denial about moving.  Afterall, on July 1st, we hadn’t even packed box #1.  I have been thinking about what we are gaining and, alternatively, what we are losing in our move.

Our New Old Farmhouse

Gaining:

Convenience is a primary thing that we are gaining.  We will have a dishwasher.  No more scalding of the hands while washing the dishes.  We are gaining 15-20 minutes with each trip we take.  We’ll be that much closer to the grocery store, work, etc.  (We’ll be that much farther away from the Bay and our neighbor-friends.)  We’re gaining a garden!  (Yeah right, you’re probably thinking.  I’ve heard that from you before.)  Well, despite you nay-sayers, I really think its going to happen this time.  Not only did our landlord say he’s excited and even tickled to have us as his tenants.  He also said for us to let him know where we want our garden, and he’ll till it up for us.  Yessss!  And, I think Gregg is finally over his burned-out-ness that has been plaguing him ever since he finished up Green Fingers’ Farm two years ago.  My helper has arrived.  We’re gaining a fig bush, a barn, a fenced in paddock(?) not sure that’s what its called, a free-standing garage, aka, storage bin.  We’re gaining air conditioning.  They’re window units, but that’s better than what we’ve got now which is nothing but fans to keep us cool.  And we’re gaining the prettiest 1970’s wallpaper you’ve ever seen.

New Backyard. If we didn’t feel rural before, there’s no question about it now.

Fig Bush/Tree

Wallpaper at a distance (and toilet)

Wallpaper: Put a Bird on It!

Losing:

The Chesapeake Bay.  And the porch that looks out over it.  A two minute walk to the beach.  On our last night in the house Gregg was getting sentimental about our move.  Thankfully, he took that sentiment to the kitchen and made us a dinner of bacon-wrapped scallops, marinated lamb, and corn-on-the-cob (Mmmm Mmmm).  Then, we sat out on our porch, listened to Bon Iver, and watched a lightning storm.  Why haven’t we done this more often we asked?  Life just gets in the way sometimes.

What’s next:

I’m imagining that as we move into this new house that our just-us time is over.  I had an idea to have a house-warming party and invite all the friends or acquaintances that we have met since we moved here.  I don’t think its going to happen because it would be very awkward for everyone.  There’s not a lot of overlap of the people we have met here and there around the Eastern Shore.  But, I just feel like, as soon as we move into this house, all our friends will arrive.  Or, the people that we’ve met, will all of the sudden show up on our doorstep with a prepared dish, laughing about an inside joke that we don’t have.  Not going to happen.  We don’t have inside jokes with anyone here.  No memories or easy breezy conversation.  It takes time.  Our new house is not going to be a magical fast-forward time machine of friendship.  But, I think it is one more step in settling in.