Jeremy's Obsession

A couple of months ago, Jeremy and I had an unwanted house guest.

At first, it was just a noise behind a wall.

An annoying noise that would not stop.

Then, the vermin decided to come inside.

And attack Parker's food.

And his mat.

The beast made his attack personal.

And we declared war.

Jeremy closed up holes, put out three different kind of traps, and went on a hunt for the guest.

Then. he decided to aim bigger.

He wanted to protect the home front from all future rodents.

He set his eye on the squirrels in our backyard.

Now before I go on you should know that squirrels in our city are insane. When in college, one actually jumped out at me from a trash can and started to chase me- true story. So I'm not a big fan. However, Jeremy's obsession with the destruction of these creatures even makes me want to send SOS signals every time he sets out for one.

You see, we now have an air rifle that resembles a sniper rifle sitting right beside our backdoor. Anytime Jeremy passes and even thinks he eyes a squirrel, he's out ready to shoot.

The irony, however, is that Parker has come closer to actually killing a squirrel than he has. The first week he had the rifle the squirrels seemed to have mysteriously disappeared which obviously cracked me up.

Then, whenever I'd see him out there, I would casually walk to the door and begin making really loud noise so that all squirrels would run. You know, making it more of a challenge for Jeremy.

But the best part came this past week. I happened to walk past the backdoor and notice that there were not just one squirrel in our yard, but two.

I quickly went and grabbed my camera. And you know what? The squirrels didn't move. So for approximately 10 minutes I snapped a TON of pictures of these two creatures who seemed satisfied just hanging out in our yard.

I do realize that I could have told Jeremy so that he could have his fun. I probably could have gotten his gun all ready for him. Heck, I may have even been able to attack them myself.

But what fun would that have been? Torturing him this way is so worth it.

So what do you think of my shooting, sweetheart??

And before you start feeling all sorry for Jeremy and begin defending him or something silly. Remember, I'm the one getting approximately 4 hours of sleep each night due to the feeding and soothing of his child.

I have to create my own fun these days.

Newborn Pictures Sneak Peak

On Friday, Photographers Shauna and Jessica from Two Chics Photography came to our house to shoot our newborn pictures. To be completely honest, I was a nervous wreck. I was so worried that Bradley (who has honestly been a perfect baby) would all of a sudden decide to show out. He wouldn't pose, would pee and poop the whole time, and we wouldn't get any good pictures out of him. My stomach was turning. But guess what?! It went really well! I couldn't have been more excited when they started pulling out props and setting him up. He's so precious. I will say, however, that when they told me they were going to put Bradley on the mantle, I almost grabbed him and ran for our dear lives. Jeremy had to block my view while I said many, many prayers.

Hope you enjoy them! And thank you, Shauna and Jessica! They really turned out wonderful!

How to Get an "A" in Grad School

Choose a good group. Preferably one that does their work and does it well. If you can communicate with them regularly, it helps.

Inform the professor you are pregnant and due on the day of the final. If he's foreign, this will invariably lead to him not wanting many details and avoiding your growing belly. He might even back away from you just in case it's contagious.

Lead the clapping to end all presentations. If you don't, they will last for a really long time and you might miss The Vampire Diaries. This also makes you appear to have been paying attention to all the presentation.

Pay attention to the presentations and make thoughtful comments. While this one is hard, it is necessary for an A. Making one comment per class is all that is necessary.


Convince your professor that you are psychic. This one must happen by chance. For instance, many professors have patterns to choosing random groups for surprise presentations. When one group is not prepared, offer for your group to give the "surprise" presentation. The professor will then ask, "how do you know it's supposed to be your group?" To which you respond, "I'm psychic." The professor will look and notice that indeed your group is to give the presentation. He will then look at you strangely convinced that you indeed are psychic. Do not correct him.

Finally, show up for the final. Since your due date is on the day of the final, the professor may encourage you to not attend the final for fear of labor occurring while at class. Show up anyways. It shows dedication.

When followed correctly, you too can earn an A in grad school. 

My First Week as a Mom

Day 1
Bradley is perfectly wonderful; family is insane.

Bradley looks exactly like Jeremy which is just wonderful since I am the one who carried him for 10 months. I am the one who spent six of those months with my head in a toilet. And I am the one who birthed him.

Day 2
Going home. Jeremy and I's first thought as we were leaving the hospital parking deck, "The sun!"

Our second thought was, "Oh my. We are now parents with no nursing staff."

Day 3
I've got this. Smelling like baby really is wonderful. Sleep is second to feeding. Pain medicine is my best friend. Pediatrician says that all of Bradley's weird noises are normal and he looks great... which more than likely had to do in part to his awesome outfit.

Day 4
Only my mom remains. The house is peaceful and we're getting into a routine. We also conclude that Bradley has my hair color. His nickname? Little man.

Day 5
Jeremy informs me that Bradley also has my hands which if you knew him and saw my hands it's not really a compliment. Jeremy, however, can pretty much get by with anything these days. He's a wonderful husband and father and a super skilled swaddler.

Day 6
I wash my face and Jeremy exclaims, "Wow, you look tired!" On a happy note, my make-up works wonders.

Day 7
Take Bradley to the pediatrician's office where we find out he's gained 10 oz. and that all still looks great. I immediately burst into tears. A little later a nurse asked me if this were my first child. Yup, I made that obvious. I now think I might buy some waterproof mascara. I also discover that baked potatoes without a child in my belly are not good. It's a depressing moment for me.

My mom was amazing all week. She cooked, did laundry, helped clean up poo, and did so much more to support Jeremy and I during this first week. It was wonderful.

Giving Birth

I always heard that as a pregnant woman you get to a point where the thought of childbirth no longer matters. All you want is to get the child out. I reached that point about two days after my due date.

I'd been doing fine up until then. The third trimester hadn't been as bad as the first two. Other than tiredness and normal joint pains in the hips (my hip actually came out of joint a couple of times- thank you SPD, or what I like to call PS2 to bug Jeremy), I felt great. But once I watched our due date come and go, I got depressed. I got anxious. I got determined. Our house got clean... I mean, really clean. Jeremy and I worked on projects that had been on our list for months. I ate spicy food, took primrose oil, walked a lot, got a pedicure, had sex... and nothing. I wasn't even feeling contractions.

Then, came Friday. We had some friends over for dinner - Mexican to be exact. And as we were eating, I had a strong pain that started in my back and moved to my front. So strong that immediately my mood dropped and I couldn't talk. I felt horrible. At first, I seriously thought it had to be gas. Oh, was I wrong.

Our friends left shortly after and I told Jeremy that we needed to start timing. For an hour, we timed each contraction. I was 3 minutes apart and they were getting stronger. But we were confused. The midwife told us to call her at 3 minutes. But I'd only been laboring for an hour! There was no way it was time to go to the hospital. And then the pain got  worst. I'm talking about the worst pain I had ever felt. Jeremy quickly called the midwife who told us to continue and try laboring at home since we wanted to do this natural, but that when we were ready we could go on to the hospital. I lasted 10 more minutes. Then, I told Jeremy that I was sorry, but screw natural childbirth, I wanted an epidural and I wanted to go to the hospital like 10 minutes ago. And out the door we headed.

Mind you, we were still both confused. I mean, we  just knew I still had 12 more hours to go. I couldn't imagine going through this much pain for 12 more hours. I seriously couldn't imagine surviving this amount of pain.

It took us about 10 minutes to get from our car to the assessment room. My contractions were now a minute apart and worst. Every time one hit, I'd go to the ground and try to breath through it. By the time we reached the assessment room, they were 30 seconds apart. And I wanted that epidural now. "But you have to be assessed," the staff kept telling me. "Assessed" involved answering a million questions, filling out paperwork, changing into the hospital gown, getting checked and prodded all while still having strong contractions. It was ridiculous. I couldn't see straight much less think straight to be of any use to them.

At that point, I was six centimeters apart.

Once, they were done assessing, I was rolled into the delivery room. My screams were now really loud. The poor nurses. One said she could hear me at the security desk which was through 2 closed doors. I didn't know what else to do! All my breathing techniques were out the window. We didn't even have time to take our suitcase out of the car! So there went my calming scents and my iPod playlist. And to be completely honest, the walls of that room could have been mint green for all I knew. There were about 12 nurses all around me. Jeremy was somewhere nearby quickly calling the family... who definitely heard my screams as well... and I was still begging for an epidural. Finally, I just asked for something to take the edge off. And then before anything could be given to me, the urge to push hit. Apparently, I'd gone from 6 cm to 9 cm in 15 minutes. A resident was called in to break my water and, thankfully, our midwife walked in just as I started pushing.

The pushing part was easy. I was determined to get Bradley out of me as quickly as possible. My eyes closed and I entered the Zone. I felt like a woman on a mission. I was determined, focused, and ready. No fear. It's truly amazing that something that gave me so much anxiety over the past few years all of a sudden becomes something simple. The nurses even had tell me to stop pushing after a contractions stopped because I wouldn't. And within 30 minutes Bradley was here.

My entire labor lasted 3 hours and 12 minutes. It was seriously a blessing.

The best part was that I now get to look at this little guy all day long. And there is just nothing better.

Bradley

Born 12.11.10 at 12:12 a.m.

7 lbs 12 oz. 

20.25 in.

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Brandi Smith won The Bet with her guess of 12/12/10 at 12:12 a.m. Way to go! Exactly 24 hours off.

Maternity Photos

 
 A few weeks ago, Jeremy and I had a blast with Jessica from Two Chics Photography taking maternity pictures. We seriously went to places around town that 1. we'd never been to and 2. we probably won't go back. It was some scary parts, but oh so fun! To see a video of the images, click HERE.And thank you, Jessica! We LOVE them. Can't wait for you take the pictures of Bradley!

Me, Jeremy, and our Queen-sized Bed

We don't get along.

Actually, we haven't gotten along in a while, but the relationship has become even more strained in the last two weeks.

See Exhibit A.

Our relationship started in Middle School. The bed was given as a gift along with a matching dresser. I loved the height of the bed; the size was perfect; it was made wonderfully. I knew I was fortunate.

And I was one.

Then, I married and became two.

During the first year of marriage, the bed was cozy and romantic.

During the second year, it was small.

During the third year, it was cramped and annoying.

During this pregnancy, it has been my biggest complaint, annoyance, frustration, and downfall. Our love relationship has turned into one that could closely resemble one of hate.

Because now I am three. Add a needy dog into the mix and we quickly become four.

Three people and a dog are not meant to fit into a queen-sized bed.

Especially us four.

Pregnancy has turned me into a human incubator. I produce more heat and sweat more than any human being should be allowed. Where I used to bundle up and ask Jeremy to hold me, I now have fans blowing on me and beg him to move at least a foot away. Combine this with his natural production of body heat and his need to snuggle whenever possible and you have a recipe for disaster. Add a queen-sized bed to the mix, an extra-large belly, pillows, and hormones... and well... we are just lucky that World War III hasn't broken out in our home.

We tried to persevere. I tried to share the bed; Jeremy tried not to touch me. But he couldn't. "Love" he said. Then he began to steal my pillows. "Sympathy pains." THEN he started to complain about how cold it was in our bedroom.And at that moment God saved him.

The time came for time to change. Now, it was getting darker earlier which somehow innately made Jeremy tired extra early. I'm talking about 8 p.m. early. And Jeremy, the sweetheart he is, won't go to bed without me and thus he would fall asleep on the couch. So, naturally, I quickly learned that I could stay up for another hour or two and then sneak to the bed ALONE.

It's like I'm back in Middle School and rediscovering the joy of a queen-sized bed for the first time. So now,  I'm nine months pregnant and sleeping pretty much through the whole night. It's awesome! Mind you, Jeremy quickly caught on to what I was doing, and I had to explain my reasoning. Trust me: me getting a full night's rest is not only for my benefit; it is for his too. I am not so nice when I don't get sleep. And we reached an agreement. I get a couple night's a week to myself and a couple of night's he joins me.

Plus, I may have told him that it's either this way or he's buying me a king-size bed immediately. One that requires a passport to go from one side to other side.