Viva Mexico

I may have fooled you all by making you believe this blog is all about me. Me, me, and me. And well, that's semi-true, at least lately anyway, but my husband's pretty cool, too. So, let's talk about him for a moment, shall we? After all, this blog is supposed to be about us anyway.


While I was off learning the ropes of motherhood, he was off getting experience to become a better dentist, and putting his three years of dental school to work, in Mexico, on the underserved and underprivileged. Why? Because he's awesome like that. 

Doing a mission trip was something he's wanted to do since dental school began, three years ago. But somehow, with dating long distance, getting married, basking in the newlywed life, and going on lots of vacations, a mission trip was kind of put on the back burner. Until this year rolled around that is. 

He came home from school one day, told me he wanted to go to Mexico for a week, and I'm pretty sure the first words out of my mouth were, "Go! When do you leave?" And that's kind of how it happened. 

So, off to Mexico he went for spring break with a small group of eight people, and they did nothing but pull teeth, clean teeth, and if I recall correctly, he made a little girl cry, unintentionally of course. But you all know how dental work can be, it's pretty brutal sometimes.

Each day they were there they set up shop at a different location, inside of churches, and went to work providing free care to anyone who came through the doors. And of course, he loved every minute of it. Not to mention, they had true authentic Mexican food every.single.night. I was jealous!  

I don't think I brag about my husband enough, but he's pretty amazing, not to mention, pretty good looking (my fingers are crossed our little boy comes out looking like him). I love seeing his excitement when he learns new things, I love how hardworking he is and that he's humble enough to ask for help when he needs it. I love that he's always trying to do better and to learn all that he can to become a great dentist. When things don't seem to go his way, he never beats himself up over it. He usually just says, "Today was a good learning experience." And that's just how he views the little hiccups in life, as good learning experiences that will help him to become his best self.

I have a lot to learn from him, thank goodness he's stuck with me for eternity, I'm a slow learner. 


A dose of motherhood

What's the best way to prepare for motherhood? That's something I've thought a lot about since finding out I was preggo. How do I really prepare for such a major transition in life. Is it even really possible to prepare myself for the change? Maybe not. But, just this week, I think I semi-figured it out. It just requires taking care of a rambunctious two year old, and helping my sister out with her newborn, as in, she was born on Friday, newborn. I'm pretty sure that's the best and most efficient dose of, "welcome to motherhood" I can really get before experiencing it all for myself.

Playing with my crazy-silly nephew, and drooling over my adorable niece, heck, life as a mom seems pretty awesome. And it doesn't hurt to have a sister who I can ask all of my curious questions, to. Hopefully after a few more days, I'll feel ready to do this on my own. I kind of thought after this week I'd be more worried about this little man coming, but when all I want to do is cuddle my teeny tiny niece in my arms, and play tickle monster with my nephew, the worry has quickly disappeared.  


Big Bigger Biggest

I came home from work yesterday to the sun still shining (thank you daylight savings) and 73 degree weather. It was perfect outside, and all I wanted to do was go on a run in the warm weather. I knew this sounded like a bad idea, simply because between Friday and Monday, I'm pretty sure this child of mine has doubled in size. It's not pretty, nor comfortable for that matter. But I forced myself to put on my running clothes anyway, and really tried to convince myself a run would feel good, huge belly and all.

And then, without a moments hesitation, I plopped on my bed and forced myself not to cry. Such a baby I am! And just like that, I was almost convinced I was going to forgo the run. It just sounded too painful. Maybe awkward? And thinking that I still have 8.5 weeks to go, and he's only going to get bigger, made me kind of sick.

After whining to myself, since John was still at school, I got up from the bed, walked to the kitchen, and shoved a small little treat into my mouth that was staring up at me from the table.

And just like that, I was out the door ready to run. That little bit of guilt was enough to send me outside to hit the pavement. Who knew?! But I took it and ran with it, quite literally, and after about a mile and a half, I had had enough. So then I mowed the lawn.

How early is too early to try to induce labor on yourself? I'm only kidding, kind of...but I'm begging this little guy to not make me wait until 40 weeks. Otherwise, he's going to come out walking and talking already.


Thoughts on growing a human

Just yesterday at work one of my co-workers said to me, "You look so calm, like this whole pregnancy thing isn't even phasing you." I assured her it was phasing me, but the stress hasn't hit yet. I'm also not one to run around like a chicken with my head cut off when the stress does actually hit. Ironically enough, that same morning on my drive into work, I was thinking about what it will be like in the delivery room. I concluded that I'll probably just sit there in silence, enduring the excruciating pain, not saying a word.

I wake up once a night, usually to relieve myself, and when I wake up, the little dude wakes up and thinks it's time to dance around in my belly. I enjoy feeling his acrobatic self, but at 3am, it used to be 4am, I just want to sleep. It makes for long nights.

We're down to single digit weeks now, nine to be exact, and I'm still feeling pretty good. Sure, I like to moan when I have to get up off of the couch, or the floor for that matter, but not so much because it's uncomfortable and I can't do it, but more so because it's totally justifiable, and it makes me laugh.

Some dude took a picture of me at the gym the other day, but not after he fist bumped me first for being "hardcore". Apparently seeing a pregnant lady running on a treadmill, working up a sweat, is motivating. He asked if he could post my picture online for his nutrition company, with the heading, "What's your excuse?" I'm not sure if that's flattering or insulting, or just plain weird!

Either way, I'm glad I can still work out and do my thing. I don't think I'd be able to handle pregnancy very well if it wasn't for my time spent in the gym, in my zone, where I feel in my element. The gym has always been a safe haven for me, I'd be a mess without it. And don't worry, mom, I'm not overdoing it! :)

I'm disappointed I've yet to have any cravings during pregnancy. None! Zip! Zilch! Zero! I thought every pregnant lady had cravings during pregnancy??? I've had none! So so so disappointing. I like to pretend I'm having them though. Like when I tell John, I NEED ice cream, or cake, or any other yummy dessert. But truth be told, these are not cravings, this is my life. And I never end up eating them anyway. Lame!

31 weeks down, nine to go, and all I can say is I'm ready to meet this little dude! Should I be nervous about this?


A mother's love

What would I ever do without this lady? Seriously. I'd be lost, and probably stressed out 99.9 percent of the time. I call her far more than any normal daughter probably calls her mother, but it's not always to ask her how to cook something. That's long in the past. Now, it's just to talk, ok, and occasionally to ask for advice. She's the best around, so of course she's number two on speed dial. Man, I love her!

Thanks to a $5 plane ticket to OKC this past weekend, and a Saturday spent in our pajama's sewing, I'm now like a bazillion times closer to having our nursery/guest room ready for our little man to get here in just 10 more weeks, and boy is it going to be cute.

I've long since decided that not living near my parents is pretty much the lamest thing ever. As I dropped my mom off at the airport, I couldn't hold back the tears that started pouring from my eyes. Yes, I cry every time I have to say bye to family. It's just the way it is, and I'm ok with that. But this time, I couldn't hold back those tears just thinking about how much I love my mom, and that the next time I see her, I'LL BE A MOM!!!!


How am I ever going to love my own child the way she loves me? Better yet, will my own child love me the way I love her? That's a scary thought. A mother's love is one of the greatest loves there is, and I'm so glad I've had such an amazing example of a mother in my life. It's a little scary thinking how much I have to live up to. I only hope I can be half the mom that she is, because in my eyes, she's the perfect mother, and I couldn't have asked for better.