Sorry Ella.

Some of you know that I'm working on cutting a few words out of my vocabulary. As the due date draws closer, I've become more aware of the things I say and do. I decided I didn't really want this little lady walking around repeating some of the words and phrases I say. This last week, I think I've nailed a couple of the words, but I still have a long way to go. So if you hear me say these four words, feel free to give me a reminder! It's good for me!

The S word: Suck

The C word: Crap

The H word: Hate

The R word: Retard.

I never really realized how much I say those words till now! Kind of like how I didn't know how often I look down while walking till we spent a weekend in Vegas. My list will probably grow, but four new swears to work on is enough for now! I've started to recognize when people say the new S word now, and it feels almost like it does when I hear people say the REAL S word. It's crazy how fast my attitude about that word changed!

On a completely opposite note, I don't think we will be getting a cat. Ever. We spent the last week in Oregon, and got to spend the last couple days with Ross' family. They have a cat. Granted, you hardly ever SEE Ella. We don't have any pets so whenever I see something furry with eyes and a tail, I always try to touch it. (Especially on the paper route. Though, thus far I have been unsuccessful in getting within six feet of an animal.) Ella is special though. I've found that if I can pet her and scratch her head for just a couple seconds, she decides she likes me enough to not run away. And if I can manage to scratch her head for just a little longer, she'll follow me a little, wanting me to continue the head scratch.

Yesterday was one such day where she let me pick her up and set her beside me on a couch and scratch her head. I was slouching, and she decided to move in closer. She parked herself on my stomach, to be exact. When she started purring, it didn't take long for baby girl to start kicking, punching, elbowing, ANYthing she could, as hard as she could. I removed Ella from her post and baby girl settled down. I don't think she really likes cats. Sorry Ella. I still love you and love that you sometimes let me get close enough to touch you. It means a lot.

Gratitude.

I have the greatest best friend in the whole world.
I'm one lucky girl.

So. Tired.

I understand I have a weird schedule with this paper route. It used to be great. That is, before I found out we are breeding the next soccer champ. This little lady loves her daddy already. She gets so excited whenever he's around. Not gonna lie, it's weird. During the day when I'm by myself she'll move a little, not much. But when Dad gets home and is close by, watch out!! We'll just be sitting there watching a movie and she goes CRAZY. It's cute then, but not so much when I'm trying to sleep and have to get up in 3-4 hours. I sleep great for the first couple hours when it's just me in bed, but once Ross comes in.... BAM! Nocturnal kickboxing champ!

Who knows? Maybe after she's born and up all night, she'll only want Daddy and I'll finally be able to get some sleep. :]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice... And a Bunch of Burgers And Popsicles.

Turns out, we're cooking a girl! Lord help us all! I was 100% convinced it was a boy so it was a shock for me, but Ross knew better.

Ross' younger brother, Jeremy, is here visiting, so he got to go with us. It was so cool checking out all her organs and blood vessels, and just all her parts! She was stretching out her legs for a while, and crossed them towards the end of the ultrasound. She liked having one hand in a fist by her face, and the other just spread out so we got to see all her fingers, too! I loved being able to check out all the parts of her body, especially her brain and heart. SO cool. She really is a wiggly, squirmy little thing. It's so crazy how fast the little bebe goes from this...

To THIS:

We went and bought some newborn little girl outfits to celebrate. I can't wait to start setting up the nursery and get ready for this little lady to get here! Let's just hope she's more like her Dad, or we're all in trouble!

Please Disregard Any Broken Windows or Dents on Cars For a Couple Weeks

It's perfect. A few weeks ago I was waking up at odd hours of the night. Starving. Now I have a purpose in being awake at strange times. I'll probably develop a decent throwing arm, too. Hello turkey bowl.

Today was my first day. It was surprisingly relaxing. You're the only person on the road in what seems like the entire city. And not gonna lie, it was a freaking blast. I mean, how often do you get to drive on BOTH sides of the road, windows down, throwing things as hard as you can?

I really like that I get to come home and make Ross breakfast and lunch. After I go back to bed, I still have so much time in the day to do everything else that needs to get done. Perfect job for mama.

Now, if only I got to be on a bike, too, I'd get some SERIOUS exercise.

I Drink Milk From A Glass, So That Means I'm A Real Grown Up Now, Right?

Almost anyone who has ever eaten a meal with me understands that I will only drink milk from a plastic cup. It just tastes better that way. When you buy the milk, it comes in a plastic jug. Milk is just meant to be in plastic. Growing up, we had very few plastic cups but those were MY cups. Simply existing for the purpose of allowing Kate to drink milk.

Not anymore. Since being married, we have only had ONE, yes ONE plastic cup. That cup happens to be my favorite. It's green and tall and just all around BIG. I fill it was ice water while cleaning the house, juice-so I don't have to get up five times to refill it, and stick it in the car when I need to pick up Ross. It's the cup that is so big, no refill is required. The downside is that there is only ONE of them and requires a lot of washing.

For the last eight months, Ross has been weening me onto actual glasses at meal time. Where we usually drink MILK. For the first few months, I would INSIST on having my plastic cup. When I had a glass full of milk, I'd shut my eyes, squint my nose, and try to make the pain of enduring milk from a GLASS as short as possible. I hated it.

My family, especially my parents, would be so impressed to hear me say that I now drink milk from a glass, without whining or complaining. At all. So, that means I'm a REAL grown up now, right? Though, I'd still argue that milk tastes better in plastic. A mug would even be better than a cup. But the important thing is that I now drink milk from a real glass.

So Here's The Deal

I want a jogging stroller, and I want one BAD. A DOUBLE jogging stroller to be exact.

Please?