The Christmas Can-Can

And now a word from Straight No Chaser...

Green with...

Things I am jealous of today~

*Anyone who has snow on the ground or falling from the sky. Three days til Christmas and we haven't even had the ground covered with snow? My heart aches for snow.

*Anyone who is already on vacation. Being a school teacher, I know that I am blessed with what everyone sees as a plethora of vacation time, but good grief this month is dragging...

*Anyone who was able to sleep past 6am this morning. Getting out of bed is tough! I can't wait to sleep and sleep and sleep on Friday.

*Deb. Because she has her baby in her arms.

Friends, babies and accapella

My dear friend VAM commented to my last post "can we talk about something? YOU'RE HAVING A BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)".

We have: A crib. A dresser/changing table. A glider/rocking chair. A car seat. Lots, no tons, of the cutest little outfits. A lot of diapers and wipes.

In other words, we have a lot of what we need.

Now we need to have a baby.

My Dee had her baby today. A little boy who doesn't have a name yet. I am filled with jealousy that she is holding her baby already. I can't wait to meet him tomorrow. I can't wait for our boys to be buddies.

Yes, VAM I'm having a baby. Fourteen years ago we were in high school, loving marching band and Ponderosa and driving around being stupid. And in five weeks I am having a baby and will be responsible for another human being.

Half of me is tearing up inside out of fear. Half of me is grinning from ear to ear like a little kid.

The grin from ear to ear is definitely taking over the fear. Thank goodness.

Can we talk for a minute about how lucky this child will be that I don't have to "do" his hair, just merely comb it? I seriously can hardly do my own hair. Its really disconcerting that at 32 years old I don't know how to properly use a curling iron.

Can we also talk for a minute about how much I love Straight No Chaser and how much you should love them too? I mean, try and tell me this isn't one of the most beautiful things you've ever heard in your life. Seriously, try.

Finale

Friday was quite possibly my last concert at this school. It went well except that the cd skipped on the last song, which was of course the one they worked the hardest on. I guess that's what I get for not being a better piano player. Very few people actually said "Good job", but I was happy with it and they really did sing well. I was proud of them.

Question: If someone makes you a diaper cake, are you suppose to unroll the diapers and actually use them? Or are those just decorative diapers not meant for baby wearing?

Showers of love

My baby shower went something like this...

Torrential downpours.

Torrential tears.

A Tiara.

Lots of presents.

An awesome blue cake.

Lots of things to put away.

Lots of love.

Weird

I really wanted to write a post about how John Lennon died 30 years ago today. This morning I even started to map out in my mind what I thought music would be like if he were still alive. Not to mention any number of music greats that died too young; Mozart, Kurt Cobain, Jim Morrison. But now its just about 8pm, and I just can't put a lot of thought into anything.

I've had a weird day. Sleeping has been hard. Peeing is constant and because the internet has made me afraid to sleep on my back, comfort is little. Let's also not forget the 30 pound dog who takes up so much space on our bed that you'd think she was a Great Dane.

I forgot to set my alarm clock and Gordo waking me up at 6:10 just didn't do it for me. I was exhausted from band last night, concert this past Sunday and the prospect of another concert tomorrow. I put the Christmas playlist on my iPod for the ride to work and when Glee's "Oh Holy Night" came on I started to cry. And I couldn't stop. And I have no idea why. And it was only 7:30am.

School is weird these days. I'm in this weird limbo of being excited that in just a few weeks that awful place will be behind me, and feeling a little bit sad (or is it scared?) at the thought of not being there anymore. People tell me throughout the day that I look cute, or rounder, or starting to waddle, and some people don't say anything at all, and I don't know how to take any of it. Sometimes I'm so busy planning a concert and a talent show that I momentarily forget that I've got another human being inside me. But then I try to bend over or I feel that butt in my ribs, and I quickly remember.

Tomorrow I go back to the doctor for another ultrasound. Both my mother and Gordo will be there. I'm nervous about my mom being there. I can't fault my mother on this one though, everything seems to make me a wreck these days. All that time waiting and wanting and trying. And now, in just about 6 weeks we will have a baby. It is still really hard for me to believe.

Oh yeah, I also cried at the end of Glee tonight. Like really cried, not just teared up.

And that's where I'm at.

Sunday Self Indulgence

Yeah, I know I said I'd post videos on Sundays and today is Monday. Yeah, I know I haven't blogged in over a week. But I've been super busy. Saturday we went on a tour of the Labor and Delivery section of the hospital. Sunday my brother came over for breakfast with his furry baby and then I had a really awesome concert with my band. Today I was busy having a two hour delay from school, only to get to school and find out my school laptop was stolen over the weekend along with 11 others. And all during the past week I was busy stressing over a school concert, a school talent show, my baby shower in a week, and oh yeah, we're having a baby in 7 weeks.

And now that you're all caught up on what I've been doing in the past week, take a look at how cute my furry babies are. Take note please of how awesome my Penny is playing with my brother's Bella. They are new BFFs.

Your welcome.

Sunday Self Indulgence

One of the great things I discovered in the two years I lived in New York was called "Student Discount". Broadway shows at discount. Concerts at discount. I was in love.

The first time I did this, I saw 'Proof'. This was my first time seeing a straight-play, a non-musical. Neil Patrick Harris was in it and so was Anne Heche. From years of going to shows with my mom as a kid, I knew that if you waited outside the stage door after the show, the actors come out and will sign your Playbill and might even take a picture. It was seriously one of my happiest days in NYC. I saw 'Cabaret', a show I didn't like the revival of, twice because it was only $20 and Neil Patrick Harris was in it. I saw 'Urinetown' twice as well because it was one of the funniest and smartest shows ever. I saw Aida with Adam Pascal and Rent with Joey Fatone.

At this time, my love for Neil Patrick was rivaled only by my love for Joshua Bell. Joshua Bell is a classical violinist, only about eight years older than I am, handsome and amazing. I loved him and whenever he had a performance in the city I made sure I was there. He was doing a concert with the New York Philharmonic the weekend of Thanksgiving. Well, I couldn't do that, I would be in Connecticut. Well then I found out about open rehearsals. You could go and watch the orchestra rehearse! He was playing Samuel Barber's Violin Concerto, a piece of music I'd never heard until that day.

It is, to this day, one of the most beautiful pieces of music I have ever heard. The first two movements are lovely, with lots of ups and downs. Very lyrical and melodic. But the last movement. That's what I want you to hear. The video obviously isn't Joshua Bell, I couldn't find him doing it on You Tube. I don't know the name of the girl performing in the video, the don't mention her name anywhere, but from reading the comments it sounds like she was the winner of a youth competition. Youth competitions are usually for high school aged students, keep that in mind while you listen.

So, so thankful

I have so much to be thankful for.

Let's start with this guy...

He doesn't always say the right thing, he doesn't always do the right thing and he eats in the middle of the night and gets crumbs all of the floor and counter. But he's my best friend. We laugh together everyday and he loves me, loves me, loves me. And I love him, love him, love him. I watch him with our furry babies and I know that he is going to be a wonderful father. I have never been more thankful for anything, as I am for him coming into my life.

Speaking of furry babies...

there's these two. The only thing that rivals how happy and thankful I am for my husband is how happy and thankful I am for these two. Lordy, I love 'em. They make me smile, they make me laugh, they make me cry. They are our family.

Speaking of family...

I am thankful for them as well. I wish a lot of things about them a lot of the time. Wish they were happier, wish they were healthier, wish we were closer. But they are our family and I am thankful for them. I mean, who and where would we be without our family? I love them regardless of everything else.

Speaking of everything else...

I've said it before, and I'll say it again; I've never had friends like I have right now. I can't explain how lucky I feel to have found a group of girls that I can trust and count on. Tell things to and know it won't be repeated. Go out and have fun with and laugh and laugh. They make me laugh, they make me smile, and they certainly don't make me cry.

And speaking of being thankful...

(I hope to have a picture on Tuesday. He was very uncooperative at the last ultrasound)

I don't know if I can explain how thankful I am for this Beaner in my belly. I love him already and we haven't even met yet. I am thankful for every little kick and punch, I am thankful for the big basketball belly I am sporting these days. I tear up with I think about how this was our last Thanksgiving just us. That it will be our last Hannukah, last New Year's. Tear up because I'm so excited, and tear up because I'm a nervous wreck. I think about how hard we tried for this Bean. How long we wanted it and how we really were beginning to think it wasn't ever going to happen. And now here we are just about eight weeks away from meeting him. And I am just so, so thankful.

Tuesdays I'm a dork (yes, just Tuesdays)

Did I ever tell you about how I play the clarinet?

We moved to Waterford when I was in the third grade. I had like one friend, wasn't good at academics and subsequently hated going to school. But then I started playing the clarinet.

I started playing the clarinet in the fourth grade. Mrs. McIvor came into our classroom and asked if anyone wanted to play an instrument. I raised my hand and when she asked me what I wanted to play I said clarinet. To this day, I have no idea why.

The girl who took lessons with me was in my class and we clicked right away. My clarinet was called "Claire" and hers was called "Annette". (We were really witty in the fourth grade) She introduced me to her friends and she protected me from the kids who said I looked like a boy or made fun of me for any other slew of reasons. She was awesome and I wanted to be just like her.

All because of that clarinet!! I had friends! I was happy! I was good at something!!!

Middle school and high school that clarinet was my life. It was my reason for being. My reason for getting up in the morning. I sat in that middle school band with over a hundred other kids and stared at the conductor and just wanted to be him. (Minus the bad haircut and really long, hard to spell, very Italian last name) And just when I thought I couldn't love band anymore than I already did, I went to high school and *OMG* marching band. If you've never been in a marching band, I don't even know how to explain it. It made me feel whole. My friends were there. My music was there. My clarinet was there. And I was good at it. And people looked up to me. And that band director? I wanted to be him too. We all did. He was *that* teacher. He had a better haircut, but an equally ridiculous Italian last name, but he was young and energetic and inspiring. We loved him and we wanted to be just like him.

I got to college and I played and played and played. Played in the band, played in the orchestra, played for the musicials, played for the operas, I even played in the jazz band. Played recitals by myself that my friends and family all come for and took pictures and brought flowers. I was in love.

When junior year came and we started taking music education classes I was so excited. But then we did this thing where we went into a school once a week that didn't have a music program and taught some classes. And something didn't feel right. I was worried, so I went to talk to my advisor. Its different for everyone, she said. Everyone adjusts differently, everyone teaches differently, she said. Give it time, she said. I remember walking out of her office with a pit in my stomach. But she was the advisor. She must know best.

Long story short, I should have listened to my gut. My student teaching started off strong. I loved my elementary placement. Loved the teacher I was with and loved those little darlings. The high school placement on the other hand was a disaster. The teacher hated me and thought that I was incompetent. She wouldn't let me do anything and when she did she embarrassed me in front of the students. I hated her. I hated those kids. I hated being there.

But it was what I went to school for. It was all I knew. So I trucked on and few years later I got a job.

At first I loved it. I got there early. I left late. I loved the little darlings and I loved my job.

But now? I get there on time. I leave on time. I do like most of the darlings, but I don't love my job.

Tuesday nights I have band and I get to play my clarinet. I now have two clarinets, one that I call Claire and one that's Annette. I love band. I love the cheesey music and I love having that feeling that I am good at something. I love knowing that I am important to the group and that people take me seriously. I love the comrodery and the friends and the familiarness of it all.

I was born to play the clarinet, but I'm not sure that I was born to be a teacher.

I love Tuesdays and I love to play the clarinet. I just wanted you to know.

Sunday at the Movies

So a friend and fellow music teacher recently opened my eyes to YouTube. I know, how sad that I didn't know about YouTube. I mean, I knew about it, I just never investigated it. It's wicked cool, friends!!

Then I was thinking about all the semi-cool, semi-lame things that I loved when I was a kid and still love now. And then I was thinking about how I can teach all of these semi-cool, semi-lame things to The Beaner because for a least a few years he'll think I'm the shit. And then I was thinking about how I can teach you all about these semi-cool, semi-lame things because you are at my mercy and will read whatever I write.

Call it 'Sunday at the Movies'. Call it 'A Few of My Favorite Things'. Call it a bit of self indulgence.

First up, Annie. My brother, sister and I watched this movie constantly. We knew it word for word for word. I know all the characters, all the lyrics, all the funny one liners. My sister and I loved "Its a Hard Knock Life" the best because, quite honestly we thought we had a hard knock life. We loved the line "Santa Claus we never see, Santa Claus what's that, who's he?"

Joy

My greatest joy today came from watching my two furry babies play in the piles of leaves in our yard. They ran and chased each other and were so, so happy. Even though Gordo used the leaf blower and I raked to get those leaves into nice piles, the more they ran and frolicked the more we laughed and smiled. Yes, I think they actually frolicked. It was wonderful afternoon with my family.

Things you didn't want to know but I'm going to tell you anyway

A few days ago my friend and fellow blogger, VAM, gave me an award called:

Now I'm suppose to link back to her, but I don't know how, I'm suppose to ask other people to do the same, but I don't really have any other blogger friends, and I'm suppose to write seven things about myself. So I'll tell you to visit VAM at www.seethepositive.blogspot.com ,and here are seven things about me that you probably didn't want to know, but I'm going to tell you anyway.

1. I am a music teacher, but I'm not really feeling it lately. I spent six and a half years of higher learning playing clarinet and learning to be one of the teachers I had in school. I wanted to be a high school band director and after student teaching decided that wasn't for me. I loved my elementary student teaching placement and felt that was my calling. And now, eight years later I don't know what happened. Is it the lousy teaching conditions and lack of support? Is it the poorly behaved students that give me heart palpations? Is it that everyone told me in high school that I would be a music teacher so I just ran with it because I didn't know what else to do anyway? I just don't know. I'll get back to you.

2. I love that I finally have friends I can count on. There's friends that are just there and there are friends you can count on. I love that I have friends I can count on.

3. I love, love, love our dogs. I want people to stop telling me that they will get shafted when the baby comes. I'm not a moron, I certainly know things will change. However that doesn't mean we will forget about them, or not love them. The more people tell me that they will be kicked to the curb, the angerier I get and the more anxiety I get. I have better things to lose sleep over.

4. I love Christmas music. Every year around this time I wonder to myself if its too early to start listening. I always try for Thanksgiving as the cut off, but it doesn't always happen. I won't lie, I've listened to a few already.

5. I am loving being pregnant. As of this weekend, I have nine weeks until my due date and everything has been great. A few vomits early on, little bit of heartburn, but seriously nothing awful. I feel bad for people like my sister in law who was sick as a dog everyday for forty weeks. I love the kicks, I love the hiccups, I love the belly, I love hearing his heartbeat and I love seeing his blurry picture on the ultrasound.

6. I don't understand why dental hygentists insist on talking to you and asking you questions while they are cleaning your teeth. Your hands are in my mouth, lady!

7. I love this blog. I know it goes unattended sometimes, but I love having it as a place to go and write about stuff and show pictures of things that I love. I love that people really do read it.

Three years

If you can't see it, the card says "Wife"

So, I was all set to write this really great blog post about my husband. About how we met on JDate, and the first time I met him I went to his house not thinking that he could have been a serial killer or rapist. About one of our first dates when we went to see X-Men 2 and I looked over at him and thought to myself that I could look at him for the rest of my life. I was going to write about how we got engaged after just 6 months, and how after I called my mother to tell her, she drank a bottle of wine and cried herself to sleep. About how we got Rex the summer before we got married, and how we felt it made us complete. I was going to tell you about how I choked on a piece of steak at our rehearsal dinner and we missed the entire dinner as I cried in the ER about how I was suppose to get married the next day. And I was going to write about the day of our wedding, how my sister and E and I got manis and pedis and had breakfast with my mom and my sister in law did our hair and after I got my dress on my sister attempted to put cover-up on the tattoo on my back. About how I cried through the entire ceremony, but was still able to soak it all in, see where everyone was sitting, and even see one of my husband's friends walk in late. And the reception where I danced and danced, and I don't even dance. I was going to write about how I never wanted to take that dress off. That I love that dress and wanted to wear it forever. That if I didn't have a belly the size of a basketball I would be wearing it right now. I wanted to tell you how much I love my husband. How we have laughed together every day for the last four and a half years and how I hope my baby looks like him.

I wanted to tell you all of that. But instead I need to tell you this.

Last night for our anniversary, my husband took me to Sonic.

Can I just tell you that I don't think I've been that excited about anything in a really long time.

You don't even need to get out of your car! They bring you your food on ROLLERSKATES!! (We wondered if in the winter they wear ice skates?)

The burger was just so so, but let's over look that.

The tater tots were awesome. Crunchy on the outside, awesome on the inside.

And then there was the Peanut Butter Fudge milkshake. OMG. We were literally scraping it off of the bottom of the cup.

Best. Anniversary. Ever.

Happy Halloweiner!!

I'm in love with this picture. Damn I'm good.

Being small and cute is really going to work to her disadvantage this time of year. It's suppose to be a spider on her head. Instead she looks like a Rastafarian.

Beware: I have a mind of my own.

A few days ago, one of my Facebook friends had a status that went something like "The hardest thing in life is being the parent of adult children."
I have no idea what she was referencing, but when I first read it, I thought about her grown youngest son who had moved to California and who she missed dearly. I feel sad for her because I know how much she misses him, but I know and understand his need to get away and be his own person.
Then it got me to thinking about my own life as an "adult child" and the things that are transpiring within it now.
In two weeks, Gordo and I will have been married for three years. I think back to when we were planning our wedding and debating with my parents about what *we* wanted apposed to what *they* wanted. Such anxiety.
See, Gordo's been his own person, independent from his parents for many years now. Part of me was very envious of that. I, on the other hand, wanted to please my parents. Make them happy; keep them happy. I understood that my parents were right, and I needed to do what I was told, regardless of whether of not I agreed.
So three years ago when we were planning our wedding and Gordo and I wanted one thing and they wanted another, I didn't know what to do. Go against my parents? Tell them that I didn't agree? Tell them its my life and even though you're paying for the wedding that doesn't give you the right to tell me what to do with one of the most important days of our life?
I was 29 years old and Gordo taught me to stand up for myself. Your an adult and you have a mind of your own. Just because they are putting out money doesn't mean that they own you. You tell me when you don't agree with me, he said, why can't you tell them?
It was like a light went off in my head. I am an adult! I do have a mind of my own! I am allowed to disagree with them and we will still love each other tomorrow!
And you know what, we did get our way for the wedding. Because it was our wedding, they already had theirs.
Now we are three months away from having a baby and it starts all over again. You would think that the fact that a 34 year old and a 32 year old are having a baby after three years of marriage would be a red flag that we are adults. Guess not.
The first major milestone in a Jewish baby boy's life is his Bris. His circumcision. At eight days old, just home from the hospital, we will have our family and close friends at our house for bagels and lox, brownies, coffee and to watch my boy's foreskin get taken off without so much as a shot of novocaine. What will he wear for such an event? The yamaka his Grammie Gordon bought for him in Israel, or the one his Uncle Jason wore for his Bris? For days I mulled it over in my seven months pregnant, anxiety-ridden brain. I had to have out with it. I had to confront or the anxiety would eat me alive. Baby boy is already going to sleep in the bassinet that I did and wear home from the hospital the beautiful sweater his Great Grandmother made for him and the outfit she bought for him. Wouldn't it be nice for him to have something from Gordo's family, I said to my mother. But wouldn't it be nice for it to stay in the family and carry on a tradition, she said. That is nice, why don't you save it for when Jason has children? Maybe the tradition of this yamaka will start with our baby, I said. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings on this, I said, but we would like him to have things that are from Gordo's family too. Is that okay, I said? If that is what you want, then it is okay, she said. She wasn't happy, but she said it.

And everyone lived and everyone is still a family and everyone still loves each other.


My name is Stacey. I am 32 years old and I have a mind of my own. Thank you Gordo (and a few years of therapy) for teaching me how to stand up for myself.

Holy crap we have a crib...

Daddy, Poppie and Uncle Jason putting it together.

Yay!

Yay! Yay!

Big brother and sister approve and are getting comfy already.

And in 13 weeks, give or take, there will be a baby in that room. Holy crap.

Belly Buttons

I am finding myself increasingly obsessed with whether or not my belly button is going to pop out. Sound ridiculous? Let's put it this way~ For 32 years I have had an innie. A regular, normal, innie. 32 years is a long time, kids!

And now, as each day and week go by and my belly gets bigger and bigger for the ever growing Bean, my belly button is just moments away from popping. Protruding. Becoming an outie.

It really isn't the outie itself that bothers me. Outies don't bother me, I think they are kind of cute. It's just... will it hurt? Will I feel it pop out? Will it stay like that forever? Will I feel it pop back in?

I find my self touching my belly button through my shirt and everyday it seems to be flatter, less like a hole and more like, well, a button. Every night I look at it in the mirror and wonder if my innie will be gone in the morning. Every time I cough or sneeze or laugh I put my hand on my belly and feel it protrude and wonder if this will be the time.

I'll keep you posted. I know everyone is concerned with my belly button as I am.

Advice

I'm thinking about this haircut. Do we think I can pull it off?

By the way, I just love Jennifer Aniston. Don't you?

Holy crap

I won't lie, I took this picture in the Starbucks bathroom.

Holy crap #1: The baby's room is finished! (I prefer not to call it a 'nursery'). All it needs is some furniture and decor and, of course, a baby.

Holy crap #2: We have signed up for a childbirth class, courtesy of Hartford Hospital. (Well, not "courtesy of" really. "Courtesy of" makes it sound like it is complementary, as in free. It is very much not free.) But it is a childbirth course. We also signed up for a tour of the maternity ward.

Holy crap #3: In a week and a half I will be in my third trimester.

Holy crap #4: Sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself out of the corner of my eye, in the mirror, or sometimes my shadow. Still 25 and a half weeks into this I still sometimes do a double take need to remind myself that that pregnant person is actually me.

Holy crap #5: This past Saturday my Gordo ran his fifth half marathon in four years. He managed to run those 13.1 miles almost 20 minutes faster this time than his last one in January. I can't begin to tell you how proud I was, and still am.

Holy crap #6: When we got home, we were sitting on the bed watching tv and all of the sudden it happened. "Did you see that? My stomach just moved!" We both stared at my belly and then it happened again. "That was weird" Gordo said, half amazed, half really thinking it was weird. It was weird, no doubt about it, but so, so cool. Better yet, its happened everyday since then.

To which I say, holy crap, we are actually having a baby.

Mi Familia

What I learned last night

**Please keep #1 in mind as you read 2-8**

1. Dinners in a restaurant with my parents, aunts and uncles are extremely loud.

2. For the 15 day vacation my parents are taking next week, my father plans to bring 30 pairs of underwear.

3. My mother, aunts and uncles think this is a ridiculous amount of underwear.

4. When asked his opinion on this topic, my uncle said "you are asking the wrong guy, I don't wear underwear."

5. I was sitting next to my uncle.

6. The topic just. wouldn't. die.

7. My husband was mortified.

8. I don't think we will have dinner with my parents, aunts and uncles again in a restaurant any time soon.

Sunday Loves

I love going to bed on Saturday night and not having to set my alarm clock.

I love the cold air of fall around us, cuddling under the covers in bed.

I love our weekend trips to Stew's.

I love lying in bed feeling The Bean kick and punch.

I love spending the day with my husband, even if its just going to the grocery store and Home Depot and Babies R Us.

I love UConn football (but that's on Saturdays).

I love that Gordo bought us impromptu ice cream cones, with sprinkles from Dairy Queen during our day of getting things done.

Today

Today I realized that Gordo's next birthday, his 35th will be his first with The Bean. That monumental birthday will also be just about one week before his first Father's Day.

Today I also realized that my next birthday will be just a few days after my first Mother's Day. The day after that birthday will also mark one year since we found out we were pregnant.

Today we are almost exactly 4 months from my due date of January 23rd.

Today. :o)

Lucky Charms

Dear Blog,

It has been 2 weeks since we have seen each other. I know that you have felt neglected and for that I am sorry. But I've been so busy! Busy dreading work, busy being exhausted and busy eating Lucky Charms.

Things have been seriously busy over here in the land of preparation. We stripped wallpaper, got new carpet, put up primer, picked out bedding, ordered a piece of the bedding to match paint to, got refunded for said bedding piece because the company was a pain in the ass, picked out and settled on new bedding that may be just right, picked out paint and put two coats of paint up. We have also been semi successful in getting Rex to not jump and almost completely successful in getting Penny to not bark at inanimate objects. (They will be great a big brother and sister!) We've been busy reading up on car seats and high chairs and strollers and onesies and monitors and and and.

I have also been busy having a love affair with Lucky Charms.

20 weeks and all is well

At 18 weeks.

It took us nearly two years to get pregnant. And now I'm 20 weeks. That's the halfway point, friends!! We are halfway on our journey to meet the little Bean. The little boy Bean.

Somedays I still have to remind myself "You're really pregnant", because it just still seems that surreal. And then there are days when the little guy rolls around, kicks and punches, and I sit real still, in complete awe and completely in love with this little baby that I can't quite wrap my brain around.

In another 20 weeks, or a little more or a little less, we will meet the little Bean. Little boy Bean. And I will tell him about how we wanted him for so long, but that it must not have been the right time. And I will tell him about how when that right time finally happened, we were so happy and full of love for him and for each other. And I will tell him how lucky and thankful we are for him.

Goodbye Summer...

Why I miss summer vacation (already) by Stacey

1. Air conditioning. ~ Holy crap its hot.

2. Not having to rush. ~ I hate rushing. Rushing to get dressed. Rushing to eat breakfast. Rushing to get to school. Rushing around school. Rushing to eat lunch. Rushing to get home.

3. Waking up when ever I want. ~ I don't even sleep that late. Maybe 8am at the latest. But there's just something about knowing you can get up whenever you want.

4. Those doopey dogs. ~ Once the baby gets here they'll be the Three Stooges. I just know it.

5. Not being at school.

Monday

This past Monday, the 23rd of August, everything changed.

On Monday, the 23rd of August, our Bean went from being a Bean to being an Oh my gosh there's actually a BABY in there.

Not only did the Bean go from being a Bean to being an actual BABY, it became a BOY baby.

In that instant of the ultrasound, a moment that literally took five seconds, where the tech rolled over our baby's bum and legs and we saw his little boy parts, everything changed.

It then wasn't "it's legs" it was HIS legs. HIS foot, HIS hand, HIS head, HIS heartbeat.

We went to Babies R Us that night and looked at blue outfits and blue bedding and everything else that might have been blue or green or had cars or monsters or baseballs on it. And for the first time in 18 weeks I could picture an actual baby in that blue outfit because my baby is a boy. And I could see a baby laying in the that crib with the blue and green turtle bedding because my baby is a boy. My baby has an identity. My baby is a boy.

A baby boy.

And today as I sat in 7 consecutive hours of teacher workshop, our little baby boy kicked and punched me with all the might his 8 ounces could muster.

And with all the dread I have about going back to work on Monday, those little kicks from that little baby boy made me the happiest girl ever.

It's a Mr. !!!

And I've bought my first official "boy" outfit. So, so cute.

Monday morning with Rex and Penny

What will they do without me next week when I am back at school?

Better yet, what will I do without them??

By the way, this is my 100th post!! Can you believe you've wasted your time reading a hundred of these things? Haha, joke's on you.

There's no food in this post!!

Last night I had a dream that I was "with" Bret Michaels. You know, with him. I have no idea what brought it on, except maybe for those crazy pregnancy dreams I've heard so much about. It was... different and not something I'd want to re-live again. Bret Michaels? Really?

I also had a dream that when my mom came to visit and go shopping yesterday she was so nice and understanding about the house Gordo and I live in, the size of said house and the size of the nursery. In this dream, she was very understanding of that fact that we are not rolling in dough and cannot afford a new house right now. In this dream, she was very excited about the new carpet we just had installed and about the prospect of helping me pick out furniture for the baby's room. In this dream she did not harp on how small the baby's room is and how she isn't sure how we are going to fit all the necessary furniture in there. In this dream, she didn't make me feel like we live in filth and that we are some sort of family embarrassment. In this dream, she also didn't make a face and laugh when I said that I thought I felt the baby move the other day. In this dream she smiled and said "that's wonderful". In this dream I didn't actually have to say to her "Are you even excited about this?"

*****

Did I tell you that I haven't had coffee in over 4 months? Coffee, my bestest friend in the world who's been there for me through thick and thin?? I just can't do it. Just the thought of it and I make a face that says "Eh". I just don't like the taste anymore. I feel as though I have turned on a dear old friend. I'm sorry coffee, someday we will be reunited and we will be BFFs again, I'm sure.

By the way, if my dear Penny Lane doesn't stop chewing everything in our house that isn't bolted down (and some things that are) we aren't going to last too much longer. I woke up this morning to Gordo's slipper in a million pieces in the living room. Really, Penny? Really? What about all those toys we've bought you? She's so damn lucky she's so damn cute.

Funny cause its true

I actually saw this driving yesterday on the Berlin Turnpike. The five year old in me thinks it is the best licence plate ever.

Obsession of the week~ Grilled Cheese

Everyday this week, I have had grilled cheese for lunch. Well, every day but Wednesday because my niece came to visit and I took her out for sushi. *Score*

Growing up, my mom made grilled cheese on the stove top, in a pan. She'd coat the pan in melted butter and the bread would get a beautiful golden brown and the cheese would be perfectly melty. When I've ever tried to make grilled cheese on the stove top, plop on the same butter, but somehow the bread would get burnt and the cheese would still be cold. Very disappointing. This frustration in my lack of culinary grilled cheese-ness, left me grilled cheese-less for many years.

Until recently. The invention of the George Foreman grill brought grilled cheese back into my life. But the George Foreman is made for meat, and it presses down and my grilled cheese would be flat as a pancake. Tasty, but deflated.

Then last year I bought Gordo a panini press for his birthday. It must have been our obsession with Panera Bread that made him want a panini press. Oh, and his obsession with the Cuban sandwich he gets every year in Miami. He quickly dubbed the panini press the greatest thing I ever did for him. No, not declaring my love for him, or saying "I do" or "Yes I'll bare your children". My $29.99 Target purchase of a panini press was my greatest accomplishment of our relationship, but it still flattened my grilled cheese.

Then one day, a month or so ago, the panini press died. It was a sad, sad day. But being the wonderful, caring, considerate and resourceful wife that I am, I remembered the gift card to Crate and Barrel we still had from our wedding over 2 years ago. And because I love my husband so, and wanted to keep his sandwich needs at the top of our relationship priorities, off to Crate and Barrel I went. $69.99 was the price tag on their only panini press. Thank goodness for whoever got us that gift card.

This is no ordinary panini press and that's where the grilled cheese comes in. This panini press has settings! You can melt! Or toast! Or press! This topped my first panini press purchase, and Gordo's love for me was once again restored! And my grilled cheese dilemma has been solved!

See how it's toasting, but not pressing down on the bread? It grills the bottom, then flip, then it grilled the other side. And by having the top down keeps everything warm and melty.

Look at the golden brown-ness. Its perfect. Golden on the outside, perfectly warm and melty on the inside. Yum.

And there you have it. The perfect lunch. My grilled cheese, my Parents magazine and my Snapple.

Yes, I like my grilled cheese with ketchup. I think that started years ago when I worked in a diner. It's tasty, try it! I mean, you'd have marinara with a mozzarella stick, right?

By the way, we are completely out of sliced cheese now. I have no idea what to have for lunch.

At some point I will try and post about something other than food, but really, that's where my mind's at. But really this was about the panini press, wasn't it?

Of burgers and onion rings

Today's ridiculous meal is brought to you by Bobby Flay, owner of (among other things) Bobby's Burger Palace at Mohegan Sun casino.

On the left is the Bobby Blue Burger. I know, I know, I'm not suppose to have blue cheese. I haven't had it in over 3 months. But I love me some blue cheese, and I am confident that one burger drowning in the aged loveliness isn't going to hurt the Bean. And yes, that is bacon you see on that burger as well. When I tell you that every single bite of that burger melted in my mouth like butter, it is an understatement. Best burger I've ever had? It's certainly up there. Way up there.

In the center is iced tea that Gordo told me I didn't need because we could have shared one drink and it would have saved us 3 dollars. Fair enough, but I wanted ice tea.

To the right is what I might call "the deal breaker". These onion rings were of epic proportion. Enormous doesn't quite do it justice. They were at least an inch or more wide and the biggest one was probably 4 or 5 inches across. They were, without a doubt, the best onion rings I've ever had. Hands down. Ever. Ev-er.

Before we went, my uncle's wife (no, she's not my aunt) told us we had to get the milkshakes, they are fantastic. Well after the burger soaked in blue cheese and the mammoth o-rings, the Bean said, not right now. So we walked and Gordo lost some money, and then I lost some money. Conveniently the restaurant is right next to the escalator to leave the casino and the milkshake taunted me. I consulted with the Bean and we decided, why not. Dark chocolate milkshake it was. It was tasty, I won't lie.

But those onion rings, I just couldn't stop thinking about the onion rings.

So, I wouldn't say I've had cravings exactly, but let me tell you I think about food constantly. All I watch is Food Network and Travel Channel. Not any one food in particular, just food. This week, apparently the Bean wanted burgers and ice cream. We'll see what happens next week.

Destine to love music

My first baby purchase for The Bean. I love it, love it, love it. I saw it and HAD TO BUY IT. I just wish it was white with black print. They had another wicked cute one, but it was more pinkish, definitely for a girl. This seems more "neutral".

Food

Since coming out of the pregnancy closet, by far the question I have been most asked is "How are you feeling?" My answer is usually "Pretty good, thanks!" In the last week I have learned that by answering "Good" "Great" or "Not too shabby" means that I will inevitably have my head in the toilet within the next few hours. As if The Bean is saying "You think you feel good? I'll show you!" Nice, kid. Real nice.

(To be fair, The Bean has been pretty good to me and my morning sickness has been fairly non-existent. Majority of the time I was more sick from the indigestion and heartburn than from any nausea. However it was always an awesome coincidence between the asking and the hacking.)

On Sunday I officially entered my SECOND TRIMESTER. The honeymoon. The golden months. I can't wait to get a big ole belly. I can't wait for The Bean to kick me in ribs. I. Can't. Wait.

(It also means my head should no longer be anywhere near the toilet. Score.)

And to celebrate, the hubby and I had lunch at 5 Guys ~ The Bean and I had a "little" cheeseburger with lettuce, pickles, ketchup and mayo and loads of fries. And in an awesome twist of fate, there was a Ben & Jerry's down the street where The Bean and I had a *huge* scoop of chocolate peanut butter swirl on a sugar cone.

The Bean and I are feeling pretty good about all that. (So far.)

Yipeee!!

Number of months trying to get pregnant: 20

Amount of money spent trying to get pregnant: Thousands

Amount of tears shed over the last 20 months: Oy...

Finally being able to tell you all that we are going to have a baby:

PRICELESS

The Bean, 11 weeks 2 days

Lots of love

I love hibiscus. Why is it the most beautiful flowers only last a day or two?

We had Gordo's whole family over for a cookout yesterday. I don't think we could have fit any more people in our house. As I sat there with them all, and after spending the day with my family on Friday, I realized a few things.

I'm never going to have the cleanest house. There will always be dog hair, there will always be a crumb or two, there will always be a little bit of dust. I will never be the skinniest. Food will always be a part of my life. I will never have the best behaved dogs. Rex is an excited barker, Penny is afraid, and that's just how it is.

But I love my family. And when I say 'my' family, I mean Gordo's and mine. They aren't perfect and neither are we, but we love each other. We are there for each other. We embrace the good times and bad. I love my husband. I just love my husband. And I love my friends. Never in my 32 years have I been blessed with such wonderful friends. My house may not be the cleanest, the newest or the nicest, but there is so much love within it. We surround ourselves with things we love. And I love my doggies. Rex howls and I know he loves me. I walk into a dark room and hear his tail smack the floor and it is one of the best sounds in the world. Penny is afraid, but runs to me to comfort her and I know she loves me, trusts me. I sleep at night and she rests her head on my leg, and I love to look at her beautiful face. And while I may not be the skinniest, I will always make the best desserts.

I am loving life.