He Lives For The Applause.

One day I will post about something other than Declan. But today is not that day. Because he dances; he loves dancing. And in a miracle of miracles I got a boogy on video. I especially like when he switched up the moves at 0:30. It's pure joy put into motion.

(Later we showed off his moves to Peyton via Skype, and after grooving on his knees for a verse the head bobbing got so intense he had to stand up and run to a bigger arena. I think we've got many more dances ahead of us.)

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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18 Months.

Dear D,

Today there was silence, which usually means trouble is a-brewin' when you are awake. I looked from room to room for you, not wanting to disturb whatever had you so engrossed. Finally I peaked into your closet, and there you were, sitting happily in your old baby swing just staring at the door. Your eyes met mine and your face beamed, proud of yourself for finding this spot and ready to discover more thrills. Pictures aren't possible at times like this because the moment is over so swiftly; you're already getting out and on the go.

And dearest, this is you. An adventurer- exploring every corner: in, out, and above. A lover- giving smiles and kisses to anyone who will take them; running up to me for hugs throughout the day. You are at ease with yourself and the world, taking everything in stride and delighting in life's simple wonders. I love this about you. You could teach lessons in just being.

So much captivates you right now: balloons, escalators, dogs, cats, closing doors, opening cereal bags, sticks, buttons, dancing, waving to strangers, babies, sniffing with your nose and saying "ahhh" after a sip of water.

Then there are animal sounds- you rock them and you know it. Who knew my heart would swell when hearing anyone make an enthusiastic cow's moo? And the words! Where have they come from?! "Bye-ah" and "bye-da" are used hourly as you close doors and leave rooms, complete with a wave, a smile, and often a leaned in kiss (strangers get this special treatment every time). And just recently you've been adding on your attempts at hot dog, egg, balloon, bear, and more. It blows my mind and makes me realize that this is just the beginning of a long, fun road.

Baby, you are a wonder to me. A lovely, deep wonder. I can't believe there was ever a time before you.

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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The Day I Thought I Could Do It All.

So today was one of those days that I was feeling good. Friends, I had it. That supermom magic. The kitchen was cleaned this morning, stove scrubbed, floor vacuumed. I made a fresh lunch of spaghetti squash chock full of veggies. Played outside for some quality time with the boy. Had butternut squash roasting in the oven, homemade potpourri steaming on the stove, and some spirited tunes from the Anthropologie station filling the air. It was heavenly. And then, in the miracle of all miracles, I had an hour to myself as Peyton took Declan on his errands, and ya know what I did?! I cleaned like a banshee. I'm telling you- I.WAS.ON. Vacuuming, mopping, scrubbing toilets and sinks. Working on dinner in between these cosmic events. And then my phone rang.

"Hello?" I didn't know this number. Probably a telemarketer.

"Christina? Hi! It's _______."

"Oh..." Go through catalogue of names in my head. Doesn't ring any bells, so probably a mom I had exchanged numbers with.

(Wait for clues to figure it out. Act enthusiastic.)

"Oh, Hi! How are you? I'm just cleaning the house with some spare baby free moments!"

(insert care free laugh)

"Oh... Great. Well, are we still on for tonight?"

And that's when I froze. Tonight. Tonight!? Who is this _____ person and why would we be on for ANYTHING on my cleaning frenzy night?

And then it dawned on me. My face fell. She clued me in alright. This friendly voice on the other line is that of the mother I was supposed to meet six minutes prior when I should have arrived at their house to do a little babysitting. A friend of another mother who I sometimes sit for, who also happens to be the only other person that I've ever forgotten I was scheduled for in my nine years of childcare.

So, needless to say, all that fluffing of my feathers about being a fantastic housewife and cook and cleaner all rolled into one?!

Right. Out. The. Window. 

I think this is my sign to not do it all. Just stick to naps and cereal.

(I made it out the door in about three minutes and was 25 minutes late. And let me tell you, there is NOTHING I hate more then letting people down. Nothing, nothing, nothing. agh.)

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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21 Weeks.

Well friends. It's official: I'm pregnant.

.......

The belly arrived like, well... like something that arrives ALL OF A SUDDEN.

I feel kicks and jabs and rolls throughout the day. Have been since about 16 weeks.

My clothes don't fit, and I lost my maternity clothes in the move. (So I of course had to go invest in some heavenly Lululemon pants, but was disheartened at the buzz created today by the CEO. And (I somewhat embarrassingly admit) my sinking heart was not so much about him blaming women's thighs for his own products' issues, but more so because I really was hoping to send Declan off to prom in these things. And I'm pretty sure he won't want his mom standing there in see-through 18 year-old leggings. So step-it up pants.)

Then I've got the usual: night bloats, a semi-incontrollable urge to pee, drought-like thirst, an unexplainably phlegmy throat, and a desire to rip my bra off by 7:00 every night.

And still... and still. With all of these tell-tale signs- not to mention the ultrasounds and positive pregnancy tests and hearing the little "whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh" heartbeat- I was in denial. So much so that the other day when some Braxton Hicks hit (a new and much earlier symptom than last time!) I caught myself thinking that I'd better get to a bathroom soon since Aunt Flo was about to arrive. Then, a little too slowly, I realized that noooo sirree. I'm in the joyous months of no periods because, well, you know... I'M WITH CHILD.

I've only had about 21 weeks for this knowledge to sink in and it might just take me about 19 more. But luckily for this cutie our house is already stocked with Declan's newborn essentials. Let's just say: thank goodness. 

And P.S. 

WE WON!!! 

Five hundred bones right to our Old Navy pocketbook. 

Thanks to everyone who voted! It was definitely a bright spot in a week of flooding and worrying that my investment pants might not last. 

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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