thirty.

I turned the big 3-0 on June 21st. I'll admit, I was scared to death. I've never felt old until I had P. The responsibility of becoming a parent will make you feel old. But having a second baby on the way, I really began to feel old. When family asked me what I wanted for my birthday, my one and only response to everyone was, "another year in my twenties." The week before the big day, I tried my hardest to accept it. I made a comment at work to one of the girls, "well, I guess thirty is just a number." Her response, "yeah, but it's a big number." The sad thing to me is that I can remember thinking coworkers in their thirties were old. I guess that's how my teeny bopper technicians at work view me now. What goes around, comes around, huh? But now that I am a couple of weeks in, I am embracing this new oldness. Old is good.

My hubby went above and beyond to make my thirtieth birthday exceptional. I woke up to a house decorated in old pictures of me and my past and quotes about getting older. He kidnapped me, we dropped P off at Beme's, and headed to our surprise destination, with a mixed tape cd of the best 80's music playing on the car stereo the entire trip. We arrived in Athens, GA. My home away from home. Taylor said, "For your birthday this year, I got you what you wanted. Now let's go relive your twenties." He's the best husband ever.

We ate at my favorite restaurant, The Last Resort, for lunch then headed to our favorite on-campus spot, The Creamery, for a yummy milkshake for desert.


We visited some of my old stomping grounds.



We talked about old times, when it was just the two of us. And we talked about where our lives have taken us thus far. We have come a long way and accomplished some pretty amazing things. After our awesome day in Athens, I slowly began to realize that I'm not just thirty years old. I am thirty years wise.

We arrived home from Athens to find this in our front yard.


My mom is too funny. And she is absolutely the best. I got a kick out of our new yard decorations, especially when I found out that they had been there since 8 am and all of my neighbors had stopped by to check out my mom's creation. I'm sure the Homeowner's Association was called more than once. I loved it.

And to top off the best day ever, Taylor surprised me with a yummy cake lit up like the 4th of July. It took longer to light the candles than to eat the cake.


It was a great thirtieth birthday. Thirty years has taken me this far. I make wiser decisions. I have a fabulous family, two homes, a car that is paid for. And, I have finally figured out what's most important in life. I hope my next thirty years holds just as much greatness as my first thirty.

check-ups.

We've had two check-ups in the past week worth documenting. We finally went for P's two year check-up. Only three months late. He weighed 29 pounds and is 35 inches tall. Fiftieth percentile in weight and almost fiftieth percentile in height. Our pediatricians office doesn't like to give percentiles to the mamas unless there is a problem, so my guesses are based on this difficult-to-read line graph that they print for us at each check-up. He handled the visit very well, considering he usually screams bloody murder the entire time. I think the best thing we did this time is schedule his appointment with the prettiest doctor in the practice. He flirted with her the entire time and giggled when she touched his chest and back with the stethoscope. He had to get two shots, which this mama will never get used to. I think I cry as much as he does. He cried after the shots, but quickly pulled himself together after the nurse gave him an orange lollipop, his favorite. Later he said to me, "Mama, my polka dots hurt." I guess the round band-aids that the nurse put on the injection sites looked like polka dots to him. He has such a creative little mind.

The second check-up was my 25 week OB visit. Baby girl is doing great. My belly is measuring right on track. I had to drink that yucky orange concoction to test for gestational diabetes, which has to contain a full weeks worth of sugar. If I didn't have diabetes before the test, I surely do now. I've gained twelve pounds thus far, which is less than average. With P, I put most of my weight on at the end, so I'm expecting the same with this baby girl. She's kicking and turning somersaults now fairly regularly and I'm loving every minute. Even P got to feel one of her punches the other day. This pregnancy is going well so far. My only complaint is my pelvic pain, but pregnancy yoga and pilates has really helped with that. Only fourteen more weeks!

memorial day.

Here I am blogging about Memorial Day when it's practically the Fourth of July. Better late than never. We spent the weekend at the lake. Just a short getaway in between work shifts. P loves the lake house. He talks about it all.the.time. "Mama, when can we go to the lake? Did that man fix our boat at the lake? I want to go swimming at the lake. Where is my wheel barrow from the lake?" And on and on and on. We love the lake house, too. It's our getaway from reality. While building our lake house, we dreamed of spending summers there and hoped that our children would love it there as much as we do. So far, so good. I just wish we had more time to spend down there.



Throwing rocks at Goat Island.


The boat still lulls him to sleep. Every.single.time. He's such an angel.


We are headed down to the lake again for the Fourth, only this time we'll be roughing it a little. Our heart pine flooring has been ripped out and there are holes in the drywall. Maybe it will feel like camping. More on that later. Happy Fourth of July!

nesting.

I feel like a mama bird creating a nest for her babies. I cannot get enough. Organizing, cleaning, sorting, separating, purging. It keeps me going these days. I'm not quite sure where I'm getting the energy, but it's coming from somewhere. Just in the past two weeks,I we have cleaned out the garage, sealed the garage floor, cleaned out the entire craft room to make room for the nursery, held a garage sale, organized the pantry, refrigerator, and freezer, cleaned out two closets, primed the nursery, painted our twenty-foot foyer, hallway, and up the stairs, and steam cleaned the carpet in four rooms. Whew! It exhausts me just to type it. Of course, I have not done it alone. Taylor, P and my mom have helped a ton, especially with the painting. I have such a wonderful family. Thanks guys :)

I took this picture after Taylor said to me, "Bones, you better take a picture of this, because I'm never doing this again." It is about twenty feet to the ceiling in our foyer. This family is not too fond of heights.


Even P has pitched in. Yesterday he came running up to me and said, "Mama, where's my orange hammer and tape measure and nails?" (I'm not sure where the "nails" part came from. He better not have nails hiding anywhere.) My response, "Why do you need all of that, P?" "Because I've got to build my baby sister a playroom." Too cute. However, I'm not sure if him building a playroom for his baby sister is out of the goodness and kindness of his heart or if he is scared to death to lose his playroom to a new baby. Either way, he seems to be catching on to the idea of a sibling. He'll be a good big brother.


I think that in the back of my mind I'm remembering how dreadfully tired and sore I felt in my pregnancy with P from thirty weeks on. I have to get this nest ready for baby Shoes' arrival. (No, she still doesn't have a name. Any suggestions?)