busy busy

The four pictures above are a perfect summary of what we've been up to the past two weeks. The past week especially has been quite a flurry of goings-on, both happy and sad. Last Tuesday Ryan and I woke up with plans to pack and bake and head over to my parents' house where all my sisters and their husbands and babies were going to spend a few days of family time. Our plans changed when Ryan got a phone call that morning with the news that his grandpa's health was failing very quickly. As we drove over to the hospital in Madison where he was staying, we got another phone call from Ryan's mom, telling us that he had passed away. It's been an emotional couple of days, but I'm thankful that we were able to still spend a good amount of time with my family, and also see so many members of Ryan's family at his grandpa's funeral. We're both feeling pretty happy that our little girl up in heaven has another great-grandpa to keep her company. And as crazy as this past week was, I find myself wishing I could live it over again. It all went too fast-- I'd like to squeeze my niece and nephews one more time, and smooch their chubby cheeks. Those little sweethearts are fun.

And believe it or not, in between all those things going on, we've also been squeezing in some house hunting. I'm busy tearing out magazine photos and making lists.We already found one that we love, and wouldn't you know it, there's an offer on it. It's all too much for me to talk about, but I will say this: I'm a little stressed out. Actually, that's not completely true. I'm strangely calm about it, seeing as there's a good chance we'll be packing and moving out of this apartment, and into an old-lady fixer-upper riiiight around the time a new little baby will be coming into this world. Once I let myself think about it too long, I realize that a meltdown is inevitable. It's only a matter of time.

Oh, and if all of that doesn't seem like enough, let's talk about the glucose test and rhogam shot that I'm due for this evening. A good number of women have told me that as soon as the thick orange drink went down, it came right back up, which is awesome. It's not like I have a gigantic fear of vomit or anything. (I TOTALLY DO.)

Wish me luck.

{a few instagram photos from the last few weeks}

Oh this week. This week felt long and short, boring and hectic, good and stupid-- all at the same time. Now that I'm sitting down to think about it, I'm having a hard time even remembering parts of it? Ryan likes to call that "pregnancy brain." He shouts it out from time to time when I can't recall certain words or abruptly stop talking mid-sentence. It makes me feel nice and smart. No, it doesn't.

But I used my brain in other ways this week! Good ways! Because, dear ones,  I had all sorts of brain storms, like I had my very own Hurricane Amelia all up in there, writing lists and making plans. It was the exciting, pacing, frustrating kind of brainstorming, where there are lots of fantastic ideas going on but no satisfying immediate results-- nothing will actually become of it all for a long time. But I've got scribbles in notebooks, and my sketchbook is filling up, and tomorrow I'm going to the store to buy new tubes of gouache and more bright, cottony watercolor paper. It feels good!

Oh! And guess what else! I've been experiencing what people like to call the Braxton-Hicks contractions. It's not cool, I don't know why I'm making it sound so exciting. They started last night, along with some annoying ligament stretching, and continued when I woke up this morning. I called the doctor, and was told that it's probably nothing serious, but to drink lots of water and get to the hospital if I had more than eight contractions in two hours, which thankfully didn't need to happen. There have been a few stragglers, but nothing consistent, and little baby has been kicking right through them. I'm choosing not to worry, and telling myself that I'm just slightly dehydrated. Because that would also explain the reason for my hamstrings cramping up while walking from the car to our apartment last night. So! My feet are up and my water glass is full and the bathroom trips are frequent. Doctor's/ mom's/ sister's/ Ryan's orders.

How's that for the first and last blog post of this week? Happy weekend everybody! I'll be spending mine drinking water.

p.s. my instagram name is @ameliamarthelia, if you care to follow along. i promise it's not just a bunch of photos of my food. but i won't lie, there's a lot of that.

25 weeks

 Well, I meant to write a whole fancy post about 25 weeks,

but I've got to leave for a road trip to Minnesota in 4 minutes.

FOUR MINUTES.

So all we're getting today are some pictures Ryan took yesterday.

This is what little baby boy looks like as a 25 week bump.

He's cute so far, yes?

You should feel him kick. He goes nuts in there sometimes.

Aaaaaaaand off I go! 

More next week!

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!

I didn't even ask him to do that.

things

Hello! It's been a quiet few days around here, just doing summer time things while trying to stay cool. Here's what's up:

Ryan and I have been house hunting the past weekend. We're just in the first few stages of it, and we're not even sure it's going to happen anytime soon, but we're having fun looking at houses online and dreaming up our perfect first home. I know we're not going to find anything close to extravagant, so it's been extra exciting to look at outdated old lady homes and think of all the fun ways we could fix em up. There's a certain house that I love, and it has the ugliest, most fantastic hot pink bathroom tile. It's truly terrible, but I just can't stop thinking about that darned bathroom. Hardwood floors and a big yard for a garden are at the top of our list so far. We'll see. 

In other news, my love for sweets has been out of control recently. I've always had a sweet tooth, but it's even more intense with the pregnancy. Like, if I had an actual sweet tooth, it would be a large and obvious snaggle tooth that pokes out the front of my mouth. I've discovered a concoction which I have named The Iced Hot Chocolate, and I drink it regularly. It's so easy, it's stupid. Here's how to make one: Get some cold milk, hot chocolate mix, ice, and a cocktail shaker. Shake it all up and pour into a glass. Jingle bells, it's like Christmas in July!

Are you wondering why I've got so many photos of beauteous vegetation? Between the potted plants, the farmer's market flowers, and the herbs my sister harvested and gave to me, we've got a serious green house situation. Every room has flowers in it! It's a little wild and fruit flies are everywhere, but I'm trying to enjoy it while the summer weather lasts. I put the lavender from my sister's garden on my nightstand, and it reminds me of my grandma's linen closet.

All this talk about houses and homemaking has kicked my nesting into full gear. I'm dreaming sweet little nursery dreams. Perhaps I'll be back sometime this week with a few ideas and inspiration pictures. Maybe I'll even make a mood board if I ever figure out how to do that! Oh can you feel the excitement?!

America! Sweet America! God done shed his grace on thee!

Happy Fourth of July, one day late!!! Isn't it the best holiday? Nothing to do but eat summer food and watch fireworks and sing along very loudly to Ray Charles' "America the Beautiful." I tell ya, that's the only song in the world that makes me want to play baseball in the dark like the kids in The Sandlot.

We started celebrating on the 3rd, because that's just how we do things around here. A holiday in the middle of the week means that there's also a teeny tiny weekend in the middle of the week, which totally rules. We walked to the grocery store on Tuesday evening in the dead, thick heat with two things in mind: ice cream and lemon ice (Luigi's, please. No other brand will do.) And when it got dark enough, we ventured out into the crowds to catch some fireworks. We didn't plan on staying the whole time, because downtown Milwaukee turns into a zoo for the fireworks. But, we discovered that we could see the show just fine in the grassy bank across the street from our building. We were able to watch the entire show, and were back in our air conditioned apartment 30 seconds after the last boom, laughing at all those poor sweaty folks who had to walk back to their cars. Ha ha ha ha, fools!

On the actual day of American Independence, we celebrated our freedom by purchasing and drinking 44 ounces of Coca Cola. If that doesn't say America, I don't know what does. I also bought a bathing suit, which  turned out to be much less of a traumatic experience than I had anticipated it being.

Then we headed to the beach with the family, where we ate watermelon and chips, made sandcastles, and braved the chilly Lake Michigan water. Once it numbed your entire body, it actually didn't feel so cold. :) Hooray for America!

this post contains Pocahontas lyrics.

I was flipping through the pictures on my phone recently, and ran across these photos again. 

I love 'em.

We were having a ball that night, feeling all giddy about this baby coming, and feeling confident that he would be healthy. And we're still giddy, and he is healthy.

But the reality of this little one is starting to kick in. Like most mothers-to-be, I think about it constantly. This is what my brain sounds like at all times:

"Is he okay? Oh he's kicking! Cute! Do I have enough onesies? What does he look like? What if he's colicky? Is he claustrophobic in there? OH CRAP, LABOR. How much fatter am I going to get? Is he okay in there? Cute, more kicking! What on earth is a nosefrida? I'm hungry. I'm emoooootionalll. I'M SO HOT. What if he sucks his thumb and gets buck teeth? I wish he'd come right now. No! I don't wish he'd come right now! More kicking! Aww. Baby, baby, baby, baby."

...

Do you see what I'm dealing with here?

More importantly, do you see what Ryan is dealing with here?

Which brings me to the point of this blog post: when I ran across the photos above, I started to worry about how things will be after this baby comes. Because, despite my baby-related hysteria, Ryan and I have a pretty good thing going on. We're really happy with our little life. We laugh a lot, we hug a lot, we do fun little things that make us happy to be husband and wife. So when I think about adding the scary, new, cluelessness of having a baby into the mix I think, whoa whoa, wait a minute Mr. Postman. I mean, I'm already a crazy pregnant lady. It'll probably only get worse once the baby arrives and I have to figure out how to keep him alive. I don't want it to get so bad that Ryan is afraid to come home from work every night.

The good thing is this: Ryan is steady. (As the steady beating druummm) ((there are your promised Pocahontas lyrics, thank you.)) Want to know how many times he's freaked out about having a baby? Zero. All he has to do is pat my knee and say, "Don't worry Amelia. The baby's fine. It's going to be fine," and my heart rate goes down, little by little. And, if I'm totally honest with myself, I know everything will be fine. I know it will be wonderful! I know that I have no idea how much we'll love this little boy. And based on the marriages of my sisters and parents, I'm fairly certain that the love between Ryan and I will only get better and stronger and happier. Even if I'm crazy.

Also, I'm going to take seriously the importance of date nights and a good babysitter. The end.