Bottle This Up.

So there was this time, this time just a few weeks ago, when our friends came over for a game night and Declan was all jammied up fresh and clean. As they entered you could just see the excitement painted on his face. A special surprise on his calendar where bedtime usually sat. He ran around like a loon- pointing out his prized possessions, pulling out his tricks, doing some high-step kicks on the floor. And when asked what a sheep, cow, cat, or dog said, he responded with such pride, completely into the fact that he was partying with the adults and actually knew how to answer their questions.

We all sat around the table as we wound down to putting him to bed, everyone with their drink of choice and him with his bottle. He stood tall in his own chair, looking around at faces as they talked, nodding when he thought it necessary, and just generally being a big boy. And when it was time to part he threw out some "bye-ya"s and insisted on running over to give his trademark guppy-mouth kisses.

I mean seriously. There has just never been a more darling age.

(Full life disclosure: this was written before Thanksgiving, a day which we invited friends over to eat yummy food and be charmed by our charmer, and he literally melted down for the entire two hours of his party-time wakefulness... So, lest I forget, the stars apparently don't always align.) 

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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.)

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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.

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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.)

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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. 

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I Want to SCREAM.

And not because it's Halloween.

But because our playroom- our lovely, carpeted, four-hundred square foot room in our lovely, newly purchased house- just flooded for the second. time. 

I.want.to.SCREAM. 

I don't like to complain online much. But right now? After going to bed at 12:30 and waking up at only to realize that I have sunk my feet into a giant beige swamp? I'm in pain. And I just have to vent. It costs $2,000 a pop to dry it up. We are on the wait list for gutters and getting on the list (today) for an outdoor drainage solution, a total of another $7,000. And the owner before? Says they had no idea.

I call B.S.

They renovated this house for over six months, so if it didn't happen with them, then they MUST have seen damage from before. And if it didn't happen before? Then they must have done something that makes it happen now. To me, it's just that simple. What are the chances we would get water, massive quantities, two times in six weeks and it hasn't happened in the decade before? I'm going for slim to none.

I just don't know what to do. I feel completely, disgustingly powerless in this situation. And I've now lost basically all sleep and acquired strained crazy ligaments in my pregnancy loosened pelvis from A. Trying to be fun with Declan and letting him sit on my foot as I walked. (Hey, smart idea prego lady!! Why don't you add 25 pounds to one leg and kick it around?! wise!) and B. Trying to save some furniture from getting soaked.

......

ahh. AHhhh. AHHH!!!!

But I realized there are two things that you can do for me. (Unless you are a real estate attorney ready to get them to pay... then you win this card hands down!)

1. Please, please, please vote for Declan. We are in first place (and will win $500 to Old Navy!) and I used all my energy until late last night trying to keep him there. It's the last day of voting. You need to click on this link, click "vote", become a fan of Bump Club once they ask, and then make sure the "vote" turned to a green check mark, otherwise it didn't register. If it didn't, just click again. It should work that time.

annnnd two?

2. Please tell me any and all horror stories of home ownership that you've encountered. If you can relive the tale. It's Halloween. A day for scary stories. And I need some compadre-ism.

UGGHHHHh. I'm thinking it's bad when you have professional flood driers on speed dial...

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Our Little Lion

This little lion is in the running for a $500 gift card to Old Navy through a local group called Bump Club Austin. 

That means there aren't many contestants and we have a chance. 

And we all know $500 at Old Navy goes a loooong way. 

And will be especially needed with the second chiclet on the way!

We started a day later than that (albeit, adorable) ghost in first place, so we need some help.

So please, please, please... 

Won't you vote?

(just click above.)

It's through Facebook, once a day, and only goes through Halloween. 

You might even get a roar video later this week if you do.

And that, my friends, is quite a TREAT. 

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