Circus.

This weekend, Savannah got to go to her first circus with Gram-B. She had a great time. I've heard about nothing ever since but "tigers that jumped up way high and elephants too!" Thank you, Gram-B and Aunt Liz for taking Savannah to the circus!!!

Cutest Eskimo Ever.

You Know You're In the Last Trimester of Pregnancy When...

...you evaluate dinner options based on heartburn potential. Mexican or a salad? I won't taste the salad all night...

...in your purse, you have crackers, juice, sugar-free candy, tums, vitamins, and colace. Must be prepared.

...you shave your legs for your doctor's appointments and pedicures...not so much for the husband.

...you don't care what fashionable footwear is anymore...its all about the comfort.

...you have sudden "nesting" urges. Seriously, the curtains must be washed, dried, ironed, and re-hung... today. And have you ever noticed the dust bunnies under the couch, honey? And I was thinking that I'd like you to put closet organizers in all of the closets this weekend.

...people start asking you when your baby is due [prior to this point where it is painfully obvious that you are having a baby, people are uncertain whether you are pregnant or fat].

...you pee just before you crawl into bed, wake up at least twice through the night to pee again, and then need to pee first thing when you wake up in the morning. And you have fantasies about being able to go 3 hours between potty breaks after the baby is born.

...needles don't make you wince anymore. After all, you are like a human pincushion at each doctor appointment anyway. You need more blood? Here. I need a shot in my hip? Bring it.

...you start thinking of ways you can induce labor upon yourself early. Anyone up for jogging this coming March?

...you pay someone to paint your toenails. Would you want to bend over and essentially shove a human into your ribcage? Yeah, me neither!

...you can't decide if a hot bath is worth the effort of trying to haul yourself out of the bathtub afterward. Eh, probably not.

...you've trained your toddler to pick up things you drop on the floor. Savannah, come here a minute. I dropped my keys again. Can you hand that to mommy?

...you sleep with four pillows. One to support your head, the rest to support your hips, belly, and back. No room for you honey? Sorry, should've thought of that a few months ago.

...you can't wait to hold a sweet little girl in your arms and know that she was worth every minute of discomfort. Love you already, Brooklyn!

Work it, baby.

What happens when a toddler discovers a treadmill?
Everyone laughs. Hard. Including the toddler.

Dare You Not To Smile.

Rock-A-Bye...

Looks like we need to review our baby rocking skills BEFORE April. Ahem.

Sleeping Like A...

Ever heard the phrase "sleeping like a baby?"
What genius coined that one, anyway? [I don't know ANY babies that sleep well, do you?]

But I would like to present what I call...
"...sleeping like a daddy."

You see, it all started when she skipped her naptime and fell asleep in the car... and then it just got funnier...until I almost peed in my pants trying to take these pictures [well, i AM almost seven months pregnant you know]. Hope they gave you a good laugh too!

Brooklyn's Room

Who wants a tour?! Come on in.
[Thank you, Mimi and Grandad, for the cute bedding!]

We're only missing one little detail.

Ten more weeks!!!! [Hopefully less!]

Bookworm.

[You have to give her a little credit for being inventive!]

Toddler Talk

Savannah: Momma, why my Sasha at Mimi's house?

Momma: Because Sasha was being really bad. Remember when she pooped in the house?

Savannah: Yes, that was ucky. Sasha bad.

Momma: Yeah, Sasha was stressing Momma out. Mimi is keeping her until we find her another house to live in.

Savannah: I'm bad. Mimi take me?

Popsicle.

Its the simple things in life that are so much fun!

Hannah Love

I just loved this picture that Hannah's mommy snapped of the two girls sharing a hug at a baby shower this weekend. Aren't they sweet?!

Happy Birthday Mimi!

Yesterday was Mimi's birthday, and we celebrated by going out for Japanese! We went to a restaurant where they cook at your table, and this was Savannah's first experience with that.

She was quite entertained and amused... made me kinda wish they cooked at the table at every restaurant! And they gave her chopsticks, which she insisted on mastering.

She even wanted to eat her rice with them. Lucky for us, she got impatient with that after a few minutes and switched to a fork.

Happy Birthday, Mimi! Thanks for letting us celebrate with you!

Cavewoman.

Sometimes its easy to say that God is good during the good times.

Its a bit harder to say that in the hard times.

But its still true.

Last week was an eventful week for me. I went to the doctor on Monday for a blood glucose screening test. I didn't think much about it ahead of time, since I did this when I was pregnant with Savannah and it was fine. However, this time my sugar level came back high. The lab technician reassured me that sometimes that happens, and that I just needed to come back for another test and it would probably all be fine. She scheduled the test for Wednesday.

On Wednesday, I returned to the doctor for a three-hour glucose tolerance test. During this test, you drink 100 grams of sugar (holy cow!) in five minutes, and then have your blood drawn every hour for three hours. About thirty minutes into the test, however, I got pretty violently ill. I started to sweat, shake, throw up, and then I had a nosebleed. The lab technician consulted with the doctor who advised that we stop the test and diagnose me with gestational diabetes.

I wasn't real familiar with gestational diabetes, and you may not be either. Basically, in a low percentage of women (because I'm never in the normal percentage, am I?), when they are pregnant, during the last three months of pregnancy, they become diabetic. The hormones somehow confuse the pancreas and it doesn't produce sufficient insulin, therefore causing high blood sugar. Typically, it goes away after the baby is born, although it is more likely to reoccur in future pregnancies.

So what does that mean exactly? It means that for now, I am a diabetic, and Brooklyn is now a high-risk baby. To be honest, I really didn't want to talk about this until now because I was so darn angry about it. It didn't seem fair to me that I could try my best to do everything right and follow all of the rules and end up with my baby having a high risk of something happening to her. I didn't expect to go through so many emotions over a medical diagnosis, so that caught me off-guard. But something weird happens to your insides when you are told you are at a higher-than-normal risk for things like preeclampsia, c-section, a baby with a learning disability, or a stillbirth. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still a bit frustrated. The next emotion I went through was a combination of guilt and shame... why would I be diabetic? This normally happens to women who are overweight or older or have a history of such issues... and I don't fit that mold... so why me? Will people think I'm obese if I tell them thats what I have? And this also means that I feel crummy... no wonder I'm exhausted... my body doesn't properly convert sugar into energy.

Sigh. As you can see, it has been quite a week that involved a lot of thinking and processing, and a whole host of emotions. But, being pouty about your circumstances and focusing on those is never a good place to be, as I was reminded just today. One of my favorite stories in the Bible is in the Old Testament, and a guy named Elijah was having a pretty crummy day, so he took to hiding in a cave. [If I had a dollar for every time I wanted to crawl in a cave myself this week...] So, God went to pull him out of his pity party. And, like me, Elijah was kind of hard-headed, and it took a good deal of effort. The first time God came... he asked Elijah what he was doing there. And Elijah basically told Him how he felt and how stressed out he was. And then God said... I want to show you something... but Elijah kinda sat there... feeling sorry for himself... and then there was a huge wind that was so strong it broke mountains into pieces. And then there was an earthquake. And then a fire. [Sounds ridiculous, right? But apparently Elijah was as stubborn as I am.] And then... a still, small voice. And Elijah got up, and went to the opening of the cave... and God asked him again... what are YOU doing HERE? And Elijah again stated his issues and God said... Go. Don't say here any longer.

So what does that have to do with anything? I'm getting there. I'm promise.

I was in a cave of my own self-pity and anger this week. And thats kind of ridiculous. And over the course of the past few days... I keep hearing that question... what are YOU doing HERE?

You're a daughter of the King!

You're more than a conqueror.

You claim that He made Brooklyn and loves her more than you do... so why don't you trust His plan?

Can't the same God that made her, also sustain her if its His will?

And if its not His will, do you really want to be anywhere else?

Quit concentrating on your circumstances - on all the things you don't know.

Those things are scary... and uncertain.

What DO you know?

God was the same before you walked into a scary situation, and He didn't change.

The same God is with you now, that was with you before.

If you said He was good before, that means He is still good. Always.

You are a daughter of the King.

You don't belong in a cave.

Go. Get out.

Don't stay here any longer.

I'm climbing out of my cave now. And I'm sure at some point I'll want to climb back in. But I'm also sure that I don't belong there. And that it may not be fair... or easy... but my God doesn't change... and I don't want to be anywhere but in the center of His plan for me.

Goodbye, cavewoman! Hello... sugar-free jello.