Hooper Eats

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I finally got around to giving this Hazelnut butter a try. It tastes just like chocolate. I added it to cottage cheese, which Hooper has NEVER liked no matter what I’ve mixed or added. But, alas, he ate all his cottage cheese. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I will get avocado in this boys tummy’s anyway I can. It’s such a nutritious food and I know he could use the “good” fat content. He likes his avocado and cream cheese sandwich. I wouldn’t say he loves it, but I can normally get him to eat at least half of it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The whole wheat pancake mix is from Whole Foods and it’s not half bad. Hooper ate one of the pancakes and finally ate the sliced peaches he had previously refused. Maybe this boy is expanding after all!?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This boy loves ground beef with taco seasoning. Sarah especially likes when he “shares” this with her.
If anyone has any other food suggestions, I’m always looking to try something new!

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Mamas & Tykes

I’ve been waiting patiently to grab me some colorful skinny jeans. I was tempted to buy a few pairs to add to my post pregnancy prize pack, but don’t want to force myself into my pre-pregnancy size because that’s always subject to change post pregnancy. Anyway, here’s the goods:
On mama: Blue lace collar blouse from etsy seller CapriciousTraveler // Strawberry colored skinny jeans // Wedges
On the little mister: Vintage striped tank top from etsy seller udsakids // Vintage track shorts from etsy seller SweetShopVintage // Adidas shoes
On the little lady: OMG, possibly the cutest vintage girls dress ever from etsy seller udsakids // Oxford shoes

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Hooper’s Birth Story

When I was nearing the end of my pregnancy with Hooper, I found myself on the internet reading birth story after birth story. I needed inspiration. I needed a light at the end of the tunnel. I needed confirmation that at some point, this growing little human would make an exit. This time around, I have only a slight advantage in having giving birth once already though I still feel the anxiety in not knowing how Van’s story will start. In any case, I thought I would share Hooper’s birth story and in-turn ask that others leave either a link to or snippet of their own birth stories. I’m in need of a little inspiration today 🙂 Here’s how Hooper’s life started:
Everyone had selected dates they guessed Hooper would arrive. Most were in the latter part of October. My Grandma Lu picked November 2nd, I believe the latest of anyone. Along came his due date of November 5th, and still no Hooper. Suddenly I felt a pressure I had never anticipated. I started to feel like everyone was waiting on me to do something I had no control over. Of course the combination of my own expectations and perhaps pregnancy hormones fed this anxiety. In any case, I started to feel like Hooper was NEVER going to come out of me. I couldn’t even imagine how labor would begin because I felt so darn normal. I found myself on the internet reading birth story after birth story for some sort of hope. I hung onto other women’s stories: “I woke up with contractions”, “Suddenly my water broke”, “I looked at my husband and told him this was it!” I kept imagining how my own story would begin. And then the days kept passing, accounting for one of the most emotionally draining times of my life. Fielding phone calls, text messages, emails, neighbors’ inquiries, and so on in regards to if the baby had arrived only aggravated my own anticipation of Hooper’s arrival. I preferred to dig a hole and live in it at this point in my pregnancy. For such an easy pregnancy to end with this unexpected emotional turmoil was exhausting.
Once we passed the due date, we began following up with the midwives’ back-up OB. We saw Dr.Kline a few times and kept getting the green light to continue waiting. On one end of the spectrum, this meant we got to keep with the intended plan of a natural birth at home. On the other end, it meant I had to continue to endure the waiting game.
Forty-one weeks came and went and suddenly there was what felt like an expiration date placed on his birth: We were told, “You have until next Monday to have this baby at home. If he doesn’t come in that time, we need to induce you at the hospital.” Just when I thought the pressure could build no more. I walked and walked and walked. I tried herbs. I bounced on the birthing ball. I watched entire episodes of “Cops” in the squatting position. I rocked on my hands and knees. I climbed stairs. I bounced down the hallway. I ate lots of pineapple. We went to Los Toros for their spicy salsa. I went to acupuncture. We drove to Studio City for some infamous salad others swore would induce labor. I tried castor oil. Nipple stimulation. I talked to Hooper, begging him to come out. I had Willy sternly plead for the same. Nothing worked and with each passing day labor seemed more and more impossible.
We returned to the OB on Monday, November 15th  (41 weeks, 4 days). Hooper underwent another non-stress test. While on the monitor he had a prolonged deceleration, meaning that during one of my contractions his heartbeat dropped for an extended period of time. I remember the OB saying, “Game over. He has to come out.” Off to the hospital we went, tears streaming down my face. I was grieving the loss of my so thoughtfully and passionately planned home birth while also juggling the new worry of Hooper’s ability to withstand the impending labor.
Willy dropped me off at the hospital and there I was, alone, on my way to the labor and delivery department. From this point forth, the story depends on a matter of perspective. Willy would tell quite a different story, but to hear that perspective you will have to talk to him. The following is told from the way in which I experienced it, head buried into the linens n’ all.
My midwife at the time, Sarah, used to use an analogy of a cat in labor. Cats disappear to give birth, hiding out in dark and secluded areas. It made sense to me when considering a home birth that at home was the most natural place to birth. Being asked to push on a hard table under bright fluorescent lights didn’t seem conducive to a natural pushing environment, to me. When I reached the labor and delivery department, the charge nurse greeted me. She put an arm around me and sympathetically said, “I know this isn’t the scenario you planned on.” Tears raced down my face. I was escorted to my room and introduced to my nurse who gave me a gown to change into, started my IV, filled out admission paperwork, and started my Pitocin. When exploring my fears the week prior, this was my number one: hooked up to Pitocin in a hospital. So now not only was I dealing with a major change in plans, but now I was the cat in labor with all eyes on me.
Sarah was the first to arrive. She helped me come to terms with what I had originally envisioned versus where I was now. We talked through the hallway, listened to music, and meditated in preparation for the work that lay ahead. It was difficult for me to get in the “laborland” zone. I knew deep down that I couldn’t mentally go down that road until the pain took me there. In due time, the pain did take me there.
Willy showed up not too long after Sarah. I sensed a bit of relief on Willy’s part that we were in the comfort and safety of a hospital setting. Though he understood my reasons for home birth and we eventually came to see eye to eye, I think the hospital setting offered him security a home birth could not. Nonetheless, he was sympathetic to the loss of the home birth I was dealing with. We spent these hours happily anticipating the arrival of our son and anxiously awaiting the painful contractions that would get us there.
The Pitocin did little in the way of strengthening my contractions. Though they were coming more frequently, they were not painful. I knew without pain, there would be no baby. The nurse would come in every half an hour or so and adjust the Pitocin levels. Sarah suggested having my water broke to speed things up. At 5pm, a nurse midwife came in and broke my water. Within minutes, real labor began. Carly, the midwife apprentice was also by my side. And thank God for her.
Time soon fell by the wayside. Everything started happening so fast. After an hour of what was now painful contractions, I was told I was 4 centimeters. Having come in already dilated to 3cm, I felt discouraged. An entire hour of pain for one whole centimeter? I had many conversations with myself throughout my labor and at this point I was asking myself: Can you really do this? I walked a bit more. Time passed. Next time the nurse came in, I was 6cm. This was the toughest stage for me. It still seemed like a lot of work with little reward. I wanted so desperately to ask for an epidural, but I could not even muster up the effort to put words together to form a sentence. Contractions were coming so fast that all I could mutter was “Pressure!” as the next contraction started. Carly and Willy applied counter pressure to my knees and low back. I cannot explain the relief, I can only say I honestly do not think I could have done it without their help. I was having tetanic contractions as a result of the Pitocin.
Things started moving so fast, the thought of an epidural completely vanished. I knew I was capable of what was ahead. Somewhere around 7cm dilated, my nurse pushed the emergency button because of the tetanic contractions I was having. A slew of people rushed in. Not only was I not getting a break between contractions, but Hooper’s heart rate was dropping as a result. I was given an injection of some sort to slow down my contractions. (Yes, if you are paying close attention, I was given Pitocin to bring on the contractions and later given something else to stop all the contractions). The injection worked for the time being.
Sarah asked my new night shift nurse if it was possible to get out of bed. My previous nurse was a traveling nurse from another state and was not aware of the fact the hospital had battery pack fetal monitors that allow the birthing mother the freedom to walk and move. With the new monitor, I was able to get into the shower. Changing positions is not as easy as it sounds. Each time Sarah asked if I wanted to try a new position, I always gave the thumbs up. I wanted nothing other than to stay in the fetal position and wait for the pain to go away, but I also hung on to the hope that a change in position would bring some relief or new found comfort. Each time, I was wrong. No relief. No comfort. Nothing masks the pain of labor. Changing positions did, however, serve as a distraction. It represented a new goal, no matter how small. My goal with the battery pack monitor was to make it to the shower. Amy, the other midwife, took over at this point and helped me get onto a chair in the shower. I remember thinking, “Wow, all this effort, all this pain, all this discomfort just to be in agony under water”. But, the nurse came in and sure enough, I was 9cm. ALMOST there.
The emergency button was pushed again. The tetanic contractions returned. No break for me and again, Hooper’s heart rate was dropping. We were both working hard. I was given another injection to slow the contractions. I can’t say I remember there being much relief. The contractions still seemed to be coming one on top of another and the pain quickly reached a level that words cannot describe. The sounds that came out of my mouth were so far from being intentional. Rather, the moans and groans were a reaction I seemed to have no control over. I didn’t necessarily have the urge to push, but the contractions seemed to change (not for the better) and my body seemed to be pushing him out whether I liked it or not. Sure enough, I was 10cm.
I saw Dr.Kline enter the room and at that point in time, he looked like an angel. His presence meant one thing to me: I was almost done. Hooper would soon be in my arms.
Determined to make his entrance a memorable one, Hooper’s heart rate dropped again. I remember Amy instructing me to change positions, only this time there was a sternness to her voice. I turned to my left side (again, easier said then done). No improvement. Again, a stern voice instructed me to turn to my right side. No improvement. Next thing I know I am on my hands and knees, naked, being wheeled through the halls to the operating room. I’m hooked back up to a monitor there. My worst fear has become a reality: I am the birthing cat, longing for that dark secluded birthing environment, under the operating room lights. There was an anesthesiologist there asking me questions and I knew very well what this meant: c-section. I also knew Hooper and I had one more chance. The doctor’s last words before heading to the OR were: “Let’s check the heart rate one more time when we get there.” I looked over at Willy who, by this time, was pale white. I think I asked him if he was going to be okay. A nurse noticed the signs of a soon-to-be-passed-out dad, and Willy left the room. Hooper must have heard him because his heart rate was back up. Time to push. Willy returned.
Twenty three minutes later, at 1:49am, I delivered Hooper vaginally. I was a mom and Willy, a dad.
Complete and utter pride took over. I did it. I did it naturally in arguably the most unnatural environment. Giving birth to Hooper was the single most defining experience of my life. It was the most challenging, the most painful, the most euphoric, the most rewarding, and the most physical of feats. I still marvel over how my body was able to conceive, grow, and birth this miracle. Part Willy, part me. An incredible feeling. When I looked at Hooper for the first time, I knew I would never be the same. It took me three months to be able to put this story into words and I’m still not sure I can sufficiently capture the beauty in the ending.
Weight: 8lbs. 15oz.
Length: 22 inches

 

 

 

 

 

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Welcome to the Gun Show

My mom handed down a handful of my dad’s vintage cap guns a while back and I’ve been contemplating a way to use them in Hooper’s room ever since. I decided to have them on display as opposed to out in the open to play with. Here’s what I used for this simple project:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Want some similar vintage cap guns? Check out this one, this one, or this one.
Purchased on Etsy from VintageFabricFinds
And the final product:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I used a display case my mom had and am swooning over the finished project. I plan to put it up high on a shelf we have in Hooper’s room, where he can look but not touch.

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Style de Hooper

There’s something to be said about meeting someone for the first time that immediately motivates and inspires you. That’s exactly what happened when I was contacted by Lori from Peppermint & Cocoa. Her etsy shop is fairly new, my blog is fairly new, so she proposed we collaborate on this post and well, it was a great experience. I practically had to pick my jaw up off the floor when this darling package arrived.
Included were some vintage baseball cards (all from California teams) and a vintage baseball puzzle. Clearly she’s a girl after my own heart (my dad was a minor league player). 
Anyway, I’ve spent the past week decking Hooper out in Peppermint & Cocoa gear. With that said, here’s a special Style de Hooper psot, brought to you by the very lovely Lori of Peppermint & Cocoa.
Also included were these lovely pieces for Van. You better bet you’ll see them in future Style de Van posts.
I also asked Lori to touch on her own sytle, which she broke down into four parts. Here’s what she said:
Christmas Decor. I love Christmas, hence my Etsy shop name. I am a sucker for vintage Christmas decor. I currently have my three Angel Sisters a top our record shelf, my Putz Christmas homes in the kitchen and two retro light up ceramic trees in my sewing nook. It’s June and yes we have the air conditioning running, but I still need my Christmas fix. My philosophy on home decor is simple, if it makes you happy, go with it.
Vintage Dresses. My personal style has always found a home somewhere between Marlo Thomas (That Girl years) and Kate Spade. However I cannot (and probably never would even if I could) shell out $300 dollars for a dress, so I make due. I love finding cheap vintage pieces and adding my own touch. I bought this red dress for $3, shortened it drastically (I come in at 5’2 on a good day) and added lace trim that had once belonged to my husband’s Grandma Rose. Ta Da! One lovely sun dress. I like drawing inspiration from all different sources (old catalogs, fashion blogs, 1970s TV shows, magazines) and then finding a way to encompass that style all while staying on a budget.
Family Heirlooms. I heart luggage. I enjoy thinking of all the adventures each piece has been on. The different family vacations it saw, the new countries it explored, and the overnight stays with beloved grandparents. My red hat box/train piece was a gift from my mother-in-law. It was her’s growing up and a present for her 8th Grade Graduation. It doesn’t get any cuter than that! There is something so precious about family heirlooms. I have a set of two large Pyrex casserole dishes that my parents were given for their wedding. I bake in them regularly and somehow everything cooked in them tastes a bit sweeter.
Happily Ever Afters. I am the girl who still has a bookshelf full of fairy tales. I read them often. I like to share a little bit of wonder, and whimsy through my Etsy shop with children’s items that evoke and encourage living happily, with a hint of vintage, everyday.
Isn’t she the cutest? Here are some of my favorites she has in her shop right now. 
one: vintage three-piece cherry dress // two: vintage baby name plate // three: vintage baby boy Oshkosh shirt (my favorite) // four: vintage baby boy blue gingham outfit (another favorite of mine) // five: vintage fisher price tudor style home // six: vintage girls jean dress with heart pockets // seven: 1970’s girls dress (another favorite of mine) // eight: 1970’s track jacket (dare I say another favorite?) // nine: vintage US needlepoint decor (I purchased something similar and these needlepoints are in pristine condition) // ten: vintage health-tex striped shirt (one of my favorite vintage brands)
Lori has been kind enough to offer The Stork & The Beanstalk readers 25% off their next purchase. Simply use the code STORK25 at checkout to redeem the this generous discount. Special thanks to Lori, working with you has been delightful.

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37 Weeks

I’ve been near full blown preparation mode this week. Is it weird to admit that I’m saving a few things for the last minute? Otherwise, I feel like I’ll just be waiting around and waiting around was too emotionally strenuous the first time around. With that said, I completed our “emergency plan” and even have instructions on how to make the bed for labor posted by our bedroom door. I also completed what I refer to as the “scavenger hunt” for our home birth preparation. I have things like clean towels, a flashlight, hand mirror, paper towels, a large bowl and other odds and ends tucked away in a corner waiting for their time to serve their purpose. I’ve also begun taking some homeopathics suggested by my midwives to start preparing for labor.
I feel 37 weeks pregnant. Everything is just a little harder and now that summer has officially arrived, the heat is just one more thing that is not my friend. We are almost ready to move back into our house and along with having a beautiful new and improved kitchen, we also have an unbelievably messy and dusty house. Truth be told, my mind is going a mile a minute with all the things I want to do, need to do, and how I would go about doing them, but my body is just not listening. I’ve resorted to making lists of what needs to be done and have even gone so far as making other lists detailing how to do them, but I’m exhausted by the mere thought of walking out the front door to bring the garbage cans in. I told Willy I need an assistant and maybe a midget that could walk in front of me and hold my belly up. So ya, there’s a lot that needs to be done but no energy to do them. That just about sums up this week.
On a positive note, I found the dress I’m wearing at Goodwill for $5 and I think I’ve worn it nearly every day this week. It’s super comfortable and the eyelet trim stole my heart instantly. Score!

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Nursery & Toddler Room Inspiration

My strong desire to nest was continuously being suppressed by our prior hunt for a larger home. Our hunt had taken us right up until about a week ago, when we decided to stay put for a few more years. Being in limbo was causing my nesting instinct much turmoil. In any case, I’ve been collecting tidbits of nursery inspiration for quite sometime. You can check out my “Little Tykes” Pinterest board by clicking here or on the link on the right hand side of the browser. I’m constantly adding things to it. You can also check out Hooper’s nursery by clicking here. I plan on making small adjustments for Van’s arrival. Now, onto my inspiration:

 

I love the pops of color this dresser provides and I love how the little shoes are displayed. source
A bookcase in the shape of a tree? Don’t mind if I do. source
Love the re-done bright yellow lamp and love the idea of using a vintage desk as a nightstand. source
Love the vintage chalkboard and desk. I also find the old wire crates incredibly useful for storing toys. source
My love for vintage toys is no secret. You can check out some of our collection here. Would love to add a little camera to our current stock. source
Oh what I wouldn’t give to design a little girl’s room. Seriously, I hope my sister one day has a girl because I know she’d give me free reign to do as I please. source
Love this DIY storage crate on wheels. I’m also quite smitten with the cowhide rug. We gave one a chance a while back and it just didn’t work out. Not to mention that Sarah was totally and utterly (no pun intended) obsessed with it. Would love to try it again one of these days. source
Vintage wall paper and danish furniture? Yes, please. source
I love this easy DIY desk idea. Willy and I contemplated doing something similar in Hooper’s new room but opted instead for a vintage school desk that we scored at a flea market. The desk we found is similar to the last desk I included in my post on children’s chairssource
One way to avoid picking up your kid’s toys? Attach them to the wall. Love it! source
See those book shelves? I believe they are actually spice racks re-purposed as book shelves. Not a bad idea, right? I also love the Herman Miller Eames rocking chair. I found a replica on overstock for a fairly reasonable price but have no where to put it. I’m also head over heels for that vintage rug. Note to self: keep an eye out for a similar one. source
Because every kid’s room needs a feeling of revolt and power and unity, right? Go get em’ little tykes. source
Not only the vintage toys, but check out those vintage patterns. I’m also pleased to see that someone felt comfortable putting a vintage mod green flower sheet in their son’s crib. Willy won’t let me go near the flower prints. Again, I’m yearning to design a girl’s room. source

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Hooper @ 19 Months

Appearance & Growth: Your eyes seem to be changing. Some days they look brown. Other days they seem to have a yellow look to them. And other days they seem to be transitioning to hazel. Not sure what they will end up, but I read that the pigment can change over the first few years of life. Your hair has yet to be cut and at times resembles a mullet. You can blame your dad for this, as he refuses to have it trimmed. I like it long too, but I think it could use a little direction. Your bed head is insane. You have your Papa’s legs, you know the kind where the knees go together but the feet are apart. I tease him all the time, but it’s pretty cute to see a miniature version of your Papa. You have my tongue. It’s long and I’ll bet you’ll be picking your nose with it any day now, just like your mama used to. I know, it’s gross. Whatever.
You are still in a size 4 diaper, but I see a jump up to size 5 on the horizon. You’ve nearly grown out of your vintage zips, my favorite shoes to date. I’m debating bounding your feet to make them work just a bit longer. You’re growing into a size 6 shoe and 24 month clothes (mostly due to height).
Teeth: Alas, all 16 teeth are in. You had a couple fussy days and I was beginning to think your two year molars could be making their way down. In hindsight, I think you weren’t feeling well and had a little cold because a few days later your Papa took himself to the urgent care where they found a sinus infection. Your Papa thanks you for this and we apologize for referring to you as a fussy little monster when in fact you probably weren’t feeling well. Back to your chompers. Papa brushes your teeth every night before you go to bed. Some nights he’ll call me in to watch hysterically laughing as you push your tongue out of your mouth and lick the brush before he can shove it into your mouth. Other nights I hear him impatiently urging you to let him brush your bottom teeth. You haven’t learned to spit yet, so we’re working on that.
Talking: We went to Arizona this past month and you expanded your vocabulary to include “ROE!”, aka “Rose” (the dog). You also started howling at the moon, compliments of your g’ma Vickie. Cutest thing ever, if you ask me. You also say “gee-ah” for your beloved giraffe, “tee-tee” for turtle, “peas” (the “s” sounds like a snake hissing) for please, “bub uh” for bubbles, “high-yee” for “hi”. Oh yes, your favorite color is apparently still yellow. When we ask you what color anything is, the reply is always, “wewwow”. I’m not sure if you know you have options to the question. In fact, I’m certain that yellow is the only color that exists in your little world. We try our best to set you up for success. We were on the road the other day and Papa asked, “Hey Hooper, what color is that sign coming up?”. It wasn’t really a fair question anyway because your back facing and couldn’t even see the sign, but sure enough you replied, “wewwow” and you were correct. You’ll always be brilliant in our eyes. Ha! As far as talking, you say just about anything, but usually only say the beginning of the word and have yet to add on the additional syllables or put two words together.
Feeding: Hip hip hooray for Yo Gabba Gabba, it has been a mealtime savior. Some may argue that we shouldn’t let you watch TV while you eat, but if you eat because the TV is on then whatever (“whatever” of course being said with so much 1993 sass I may even be making a W with my two thumbs and pointer fingers). On the flip side, you are now OBSESSED with Yo Gabba Gabba. Almost as soon as you wake up, you start saying “Gabba Gabba” and then proceed to grab the TV remote, plant yourself on the sofa, and become stubbornly insistent that we turn it on for you. It’s not cute (ok, it’s kinda cute), but I’m not proud. I will not raise a TV or video game junky, capiche? (As a side note, if you’re like me and are stuck watching Gabba Gabba, I highly recommend the episode titled “New Friends” that features Jack Black. Here’s a sneak peek. If you’re not into watching the whole five minutes, I recommend skipping to 1:30 & 3:55, where you can check out a few of his funky dance moves. Reminds me so much of Willy’s dancing. Then turn the video off and deny you ever watched it.)
Anyway, back to feeding you. Hooper, can I tell you the truth? I hate feeding you. Sometimes I wish it were my responsibility only to feed Sarah because she is by far the easiest thing in the world to please.
It’s so frustrating to try to shove food in your mouth while Sarah waits so eagerly and impatiently for the same bite. If I could only reverse your roles and leave some pebbles for you in a bowl and feed all the good stuff to Sarah, life would be much easier. That aside, you do eat and you do eat well, just not without a struggle and a whole lot of patience and even some strategy.
We’ve combated the fact that you won’t sit in a highchair for more than 5 minutes by choosing restaurants that have outdoor patios. What a saving grace. It’s nice to let you wander and entertain yourself while the rest of us enjoy (did I just say enjoy?!) a meal out. You rarely stray too far from the table and like to watch the birds and play peek-a-boo with whoever catches your eye.
You’ve taken to patting your own back when you choke or cough, only you can’t get your hand around to your back so you pat your neck. It’s pretty funny. You do it anytime you cough, whether there is food involved or not.
Sleeping: Three words: BIG BOY BED! Wahoo. The transition was initially seamless, then there were a few rough nights, and now I think we’re on track. You nap schedule seems to be in limbo. After we moved you to the new bed, you started taking only one nap a day but it lasted about 4 hours. Then you reverted back to your two naps a day for two hours each. Not sure what you’re going to stick with, as you’ve flip flopped between these two schedules.
It’s funny to watch you move all over your bed and I wonder when you’ll decide to sleep with your head on a pillow and your feet pointed toward the end of the bed. I just went in to peek on you and you have your little bum stuck right up in the air, your two fingers in your mouth, your blanket curled up under your belly, and you are sideways on the bed. We haven’t added a sheet yet because I’m not sure what you’d do with it. It’s too hot anyway. You wake up in the middle of the night every now again, but these episodes are few and far between.
Development: You have upgraded your love for the trash bins and now like playing what we call “the trash man”. No matter where we are, you like to collect the trash around you and bring it to the nearest bin to throw away. It’s helpful at times, always cute, but sometimes dirty.
You’re still attending your class at the gym and are still shy around the instructors. You have no problem participating if it’s one on one with me, but as soon as the teacher takes you to do something with them, all bets are off. You turn into a limp sourpuss. I’m hoping you overcome this soon.
Peek-a-boo is still a favorite of yours and anyone trying to win your heart ought to know a little game of peek-a-boo steals it instantly. You’re more entertained with your toys than ever before. You like to transport all of them out of your room and the rest of the house is flooded with toys like never before. You’re starting to jump by taking off with two feet, but aren’t quite there yet. I like to practice with you on your bed, which probably isn’t the best idea but whatever, all kids jump on their beds. You seemed bothered by the fact you only have two hands. More times than not they are filled with this or that and you start whining because there is some other object you’d also like to be holding. Maybe you need a briefcase to store all your collectibles in? Either way, you only have two hands Hooper. Make it work young lad. Oh, and I’ve caught you walking on your tippy toes every now and again. Not sure where you learned it.
Favorites: Anything that moves: cars, trucks, motorcycles, your vintage playskool giraffe. You love playing with the car keys and inside the car itself. You also like Yo Gabba Gabba. You still love janitorial items. We’ve decided that your dream job at this point in life would be a valet parker for janitorial trucks. The best of both of your worlds. Let us know if you want to stick with that plan and we’ll ix-nay on the college fund.
Upcoming: A power wheels is in your future. We’re planning on buying you one and surprising you with it just after the baby is born. We figure it will be a good time to distract you with a new rad toy.

Bits + Pieces, Father’s Day edition

I’m behind in sharing some snippets from our Father’s Day weekend. Actually, I’m behind in a lot of things lately due to the fact we have not been living in our house. We’ve been a bit discombobulated this week, but construction on our kitchen is nearing an end and soon things will be back to normal… Until Van arrives, that is. Anyway, here’s some bits and pieces from our Father’s Day weekend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was card reading in bed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Followed by book reading in bed. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some cinnabons were consumed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cartoons were watched. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Afternoon beers were had.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We played in the pool.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hooper played with janitorial items.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hooper opened and closed the fence. Over and over. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sarah played fetch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Helicopters and airplanes flew overhead. Hooper pointed each and every one out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Someone gave an abundance of daddy day hugs during his bath. Okay, he was really holding on for dear life as he suddenly hates the water poured over his head. But someone else (aka. Papa) ate it all up. So did I, hence all the photos.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alas, the inevitable occurred. It all ended in another hug/grab on for dear life and in the end, everyone was happy.
We spent the rest of the afternoon in Santa Barbara at a family barbecue. It was a nice end to a nice day and we came home with some extra chocolate chip cookies, so you know, the day was pretty stellar.Click To Vote For Us @ Top Baby Blogs Directory!

A Trinket, A Tasket

Willy and I spent the better half of the morning in Ventura the other weekend and hit up the local flea market and then booked it over to Main street to browse the thrift stores. My parents were nice enough to take Hooper for the afternoon. Willy isn’t your typical husband when it comes to shopping, instead, he’s a rather good counterpart, co-conspirator, and he gets just as excited by a good find as I do. This is part of the reason our garage is bursting at the seams with stuff awaiting to be placed or sold. We’ve never sold anything, but we buy a lot with the intention of re-selling it. It’s just stuff we fall in love in with, have no where to put, and can’t live without. Anyway, here’s some of the stuff we picked up:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
An AM/FM clock radio in working condition (score!).  We put it in Hooper’s new room. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Glass bowl. This was something Willy couldn’t live without. I like it too. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
A random assortment of block letters. There were a few letters I needed more of. Collection complete. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Plastic plates, for the kiddos. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is just a fraction of some of the records we picked up to add to our collection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Salt n’ Pepper shakers, because who could pass on either of these sets?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
This 16 Volume set of Home Handyman awesomeness. Again, something Willy insisted on having. I didn’t hesitate for a second. I have fantasies of him using them to actually make something (hint, hint Willy!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
An assortment of vintage books from a couple different thrift stores. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This mid-century teak lamp. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
A handmade pillow. Sarah almost chewed this up. A corner has been nibbled on, but whatever, it’s intact. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
I don’t drink anything out of a mug, with the exception of hot chocolate in the winter, but I couldn’t pass up on this beauty. It was fifty cents. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 These vintage outfits that came with matching diaper covers.

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Having a Baby is a Horrible Mistake


As we inch closer to bringing another child into this world, I’m reminded of the difficulties in caring for a newborn. Hooper was not an easy baby. Or maybe its that our expectations needed adjusting. Even in hindsight, I’m still not sure. But it was difficult, that much I know. So as we draw closer to round two, I’m trying my best to keep humor and light heartedness at the forefront. I’m channeling Adam Pally in an effort to keep things in perspective and remember the challenge men have in bonding with their new child immediately.
It wasn’t until Hooper developed some sort of personality that Willy really started to bond with him. It sounds harsh, but it’s part of the reality of the difference, I think, between men and woman. The bond for me was entirely innate and happened so instantly. For Willy, the relationship developed overtime. And I’d argue that it has made him an even better father even though it caused tension and constant adjustments in the beginning. In any case, I hope I’m still able to laugh at his video post birth. I hope I’m not so entirely exhausted that I lose my sense of humor. So yes, I’m channeling Adam Pally.
As a side note, Hooper’s nursery is being featured on one of my favorite kiddo blogs this morning! Check him out over at Modern Kiddo 🙂
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Hooper Eats.

The title of this post is debatable, but only if you want to hear me complain about how difficult it is to feed Hooper. Na, me neither. That’s why today I’m going to stick with picture proof and let you draw your own frustrating conclusions. The other day Hooper and I took a little trip over to Ikea to get some shelves for his new room. We grabbed food while we were there and this is what ensued:

 

Here we have proof that a few bites did actually enter the sanctuary known as Hooper’s chompers. That’s macaroni on his face and it’s always a good sign. See, it started well. 

 

Then he ditched the food for the straw wrapper. My hopes are still high, if only I could get that wrapper out of his mouth.

 

Then he started playing with his straw. He loves taking it out of the hole and putting it back in. I know, typical man, right? Get your mind out of the gutter, would you?

 

Ah-Ha! The fork is going in the right direction! Hip hip hoorays are starting to build in my throat.

 

Um, but that’s not a hopeful face. What is he doing? He loves mac n’ cheese.

 

Stall out move. Yes, he often licks his food when he’s unsure whether he wants to eat it. Hope is still bubbling, but impatience is also brewing. Eat Hooper, Eat!
Same bite remains on the fork. He’s thinking about it.

 

But instead, the fork makes a detour and the back end goes in. Hope begins to fizzle. My encouragement is going totally ignored. 

 

“Look Mom, no hands”. Look who thinks he’s so cool now. Yup, it’s the same little booger who won’t eat his god damn food.

 

Oh no he didn’t. Oldest trick in the book and he’s already figured it out at 18 months? The good ol’ hide your carrots in the napkin trick. Come on Hooper, I used to do that. You’re goin’ oldschool on me now.

 

And now the attention is turned to the napkin. He decides to cover his juice with it.

 

Then he eats the napkin. Seriously Hooper, you won’t eat your mac n’ cheese but you’ll eat the napkin. For goodness f’n sakes, you’re toying with me now aren’t you? 

 

He proceeds to rip his napkin into pieces. At this point I’ve given up all hope and am trying to find peace in the fact he is still sitting in his highchair past the usual 5 minutes. 
We leave to find his shelves. The food remains. And there lies cold hard evidence of an impossible child to feed. I have to conclude by saying that Ikea rocks. Hooper may have hardly touched his food, but kids eat free until 4pm, so three bucks stayed in my pocket. Score. Bummer it was wasted anyways.

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36 Weeks

FULL F’N TERM, sssccchhhwwhat??! There seem to be three major hurdles throughout pregnancy: the first being getting through the first trimester, the second being the entrance to the third trimester, and the last being making it to the point I’m at today, 36 freakin’ weeks! Boo-yah. Oh how it feels so nice to say this baby *could* come any day. Then again, I remember being here the first time around and having to wait another SIX weeks to meet Hooper. Sure it was worth the wait, but I’m really hoping I just have 3 or 4 more weeks to go.
We’re a displaced family this week as we’ve been staying with my parents while demo and construction on our kitchen is underway. I snapped a few before photos so I will be sure to share the final product. It’s been hard being away from home and I’ve come to the conclusion that having a toddler in any home other than their own is just plain difficult. I know simply by listening what he’s getting into in our own house, but here the possibilities are endless and it’s been draining to say the least. And if I have to mop the floor one more time because Hooper dumped the dog’s water bowl out, I think I might lose my mind. Sarah’s been a whining machine and is almost harder to take care of than Hooper. She too needs to be watched like a hawk, after all it’s practically summer and both of Sarah’s rattlesnake bites have occurred in or near my parent’s yard. So rather than letting her run freely, I have to listen to her whine while my parent’s dog freely enjoys the great outdoors. Speaking of my parent’s dog, she attacked Hooper. It was his fault and she’s old, but nonetheless I’m anxious to be home, can you tell? (No offense, mom, we’re incredibly grateful to have a place to stay 😉
Aside from the exhaustion, I feel good. Van has been moving a lot and my excitement is growing with each passing day. I’ve been having stronger braxton hicks and they seem to be occurring throughout the day now as opposed to mostly in the evening, after a long day of chasing Hooper. He’s taking up much more of my belly now and I can feel him migrating up into my ribs at times. They ought to make a device that pushes down on the uterus to prevent this because I feel like I’m always cupping my hand on the top of my belly to redirect the little guy downward. He hasn’t even popped out yet and I’m already having to set boundaries. Oh boy! All seems well at my midwives appointments, which are now once a week. I’m still measuring small, but again, my midwives feel this is due to the baby being so far down. They are suspecting that the head is already engaged, but I won’t have a vaginal exam until I’m 38 weeks, and only if I chose to have one at that time.
And lastly, I’d like to share this hilarious video of Jim Gaffigan on David Letterman talking about his wife delivering at home. I have a feeling this will be how Willy comes to discuss our home birth, after his anxiety wears off…

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A Day for Dads


Hooper has a new favorite word: “Papa”. It’s asked as a question of sorts in the morning: “Papa?” To which I normally answer, “Papa’s at work”, and Hooper proclaims, “ka” (aka “work”). He then ventures out of his room and proceeds to survey the house, leading me to the closed bedroom door where he once again questions “Papa?”. I open the door to prove he’s not there and then it’s on to something else. It’s no wonder he’s taken to the guy. I’m pretty smitten with him too. Hooper, soon-to-be-Van, and I… were lucky folks. I wonder when the transition will occur that our boys want nothing to do with me and everything to do with their too-cool-for-school dad. And when it does occur, looking in from the outside really won’t be so bad if it means peering in these two (soon to be three)…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Father’s Day, Papa. Fatherhood sure looks good on you. Watching you as the man of the house really ruffles my feathers in the best kinda way. I love you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And an extended Happy Father’s Day to my own dad, who will always be the man I measure others against.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wishing all the dad’s out there a very special Father’s Day. Now man up and go do the dishes.Click To Vote For Us @ Top Baby Blogs Directory!

Music Medicine.

A dear friend of mine shared this video with me and I wanted to share it with ya’ll because it makes my soul tingle every time I hear it.
Also want to thank everyone who has voted for The Stork & The Beanstalk on Top Baby Blogs. It means a lot to be climbing in the standings each day. Many of the baby blogs I read today I discovered through the Top Baby Blog website. If you have a second to vote, just click on the link below and then on the brown box above the owl on the left. While you’re there, check out some of the other blogs, there are some great ones!
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Bits + Pieces

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bits + Pieces from the last couple weeks:
Potting plants. Seriously, nesting is no joke. I want to plant and grow everything // Hooper got introduced to chalk. He liked it, as did Sarah. We put lipstick on Sarah and then we put the chalk away after Hooper started eating it // Oh how I miss those clothes in my little itty bitty closet. I know my days of maternity wear are nearing an end and thank goodness because my options these days seem to be ranging from A or B… and that’s it  // Hooper pre-nap… // …And post-nap bed head // Choosing kitchen tiles has been a battle of what we like vs. what is affordable vs. what is easy to install. We placed our order earlier this week, so I guess there’s no turning back // Hooper playing quietly by himself. I love these moments // And lastly, some pics from our latest trip to Underwood Farms. You can see pics from our previous visit here.
Happy Friday!Click To Vote For Us @ Top Baby Blogs Directory!

To The Big Boy Bed We Go…

Night 1: The Stun Gun Phenomenon
I’m glad I waited a while  to write about Hooper’s transition out of the crib and into his big boy bed. I say that because no night has been the same. The first night, we did everything as before: we covered the window with a sheet for added darkness, we hooked up his white noise machine (a must if you ask me), had the sound monitor by his bed, gave him his blanket, had Papa sing to him, and then we laid him to rest. We sat anxiously on the sofa waiting to hear something. Instead, we heard nothing. Our impatience took over and about 30 minutes after putting him down, we snuck into his room to take a peek. He was just where we laid him, but as soon as the door opened, he popped up and said “Papa” as if he had been lying there with his eyes wide open for the entire 30 minutes. Probably scared straight. Probably wondering what to do in the sea of darkness. Probably wondering where he was. I call this “The Stun Gun Phenomenon”. Willy sang to him again and put him back down and he slept soundly the whole night through. Willy and I, however, tossed and turn wondering what the heck he was doing in there (why are these transitions always harder for the parents than the child?). After all, the possibilities of what he could get into are endless, right? He woke up at his usual time via a little whine that of course sent me shooting out of bed and into his room immediately. He was sitting ever so cutely right behind his guard rail. I scanned the room. Nothing was out of place. The only unusual thing was a small piece of paper on Hooper’s mouth. In the bed, I found the stick part to a lollipop. It was wet, clearly sucked on. Not sure where it came from or if it even had any candy on it. That was night one.
 Night 2: Hiccups
Oh how we gloated after that first night. We talked all day about how good our big boy is and how lucky we are and how easy the transition was and how we were going to sleep so soundly and then “The Stun Gun Phenomenon” ended. It was so abrupt. Suddenly Hooper realized he had unlimited access to his toys, noise maker, monitor, door and well, when we tried to put him down, we heard him play with his toys, then we heard him turn his noise maker off, then we heard him talking into the monitor like it was a microphone, then we heard him giggle the door handle, and then our seamless little transition started coming apart at the seams. We went in, put him down again. It was quiet for a few minutes. Then came another giggle of the door handle. We went in again, this time the room smelled like shit. A diaper change was in order. Then we put him down again. Third time is a charm, or so they say, because he slept… but only until 6:30, two hours before his normal wake up time. When I came into the room, he was standing by his bed with his blanket holding his monitor like a microphone again. I put him down for a nap later that morning and, again, the third time was the charm.

 

Night 3&4: Midnight Munches
These nights were nearly identical. Both nights started great. He went down with ease. I heard him the first night around 2:30am whining. It seemed to go on for a half hour or so and then he was quiet. (As a side note, why is it the mother’s ear that’s always so tuned in to that damn monitor? I’ve always been a good sleeper. In college, I remember taking a nap while my roommate vacuumed. But now, as a mom, my ear is to that monitor like little balls of poop stuck to Hooper’s nut sack. Willy, on the other hand, rests soundly and gets rather upset when I wake him to see if he’s hearing what I’m hearing and to help me decipher a plan of action. Oh the perks of being a dad, I suppose.) Anyway, on to the whining that begs the question: Would you like some cheese with that whine? Which in turn leads to the title of these nights being “Midnight Munches”. I know, it’s a bit convoluted, but whatever. So night 3 wasn’t so bad. He whined, he went back to sleep, he woke up at his normal time. Night 4, however, was the worst yet. The whining started and, again, I was the only one awoken and disturbed by it. I woke up Willy who lovingly let me stay in bed while he went in to check on him after the whining wouldn’t stop. He was sitting by his closed door. He sang to him, but him back down and got back in bed. But, alas, the whining returned. This boy must really like cheese. Willy returned, laid in bed and cuddled with him, and again, returned to bed. The whining returned and we finally gave in and put him in his crib. These events took place over an hour and a half or so, so you can’t say we didn’t give it a valiant effort. He slept soundly and that was that. So while we were left asking if he’d like some cheese with his whine, we really just needed our own glass bottle of wine. 

 

Night 5: The Night Light
After a restless night 4 and some grumpy campers Sunday morning, Willy and I brainstormed on what may be bothering him about his new room. We’ve made the room very dark and began considering that he could be scared of the dark. Our theory is that he had been falling asleep rather fast, but would wake at some point during the middle of the night and would start to get scared by the fact he couldn’t see anything around him. A friend of mine gave him this turtle constellation night light some time ago (thanks Bev!) and we decided to break it out and give it a try. Not gonna lie, I wanted to sleep in that cozy little bed under all those stars. And well, it worked. Or he was so tired from the night prior that he had to catch up on some Z’s. I did here him whine once during the middle of the night, but he was quiet soon their after. 
So all in all, it’s been about a week or so of full transition. The nap schedule was thrown a bit off and for a few days I thought he was phasing out of his two naps per day, but he appears to be back on the same nap routine as before. That’s today, anyway. All in all, I’m glad we did it prior to Van’s arrival. I’m slowly adding toys to his room so long as he can differentiate sleep time and play time. Stay tuned for the new room tour. It’s one of my favorites 🙂
Here’s my question to other parents: Do I go in there and put him back to bed if I hear him playing with his toys or should I just ignore it and trust that he will make his way to bed when he’s ready? His room is baby safe, to the best of my knowledge, so I’m leaning toward the latter method but would love to hear from others who I’m sure have experienced the same thing. And when do kids start sleeping with their head on the pillow and feet pointed toward the end of the bed? I find this boy all over the mattress and he wants nothing to do with his head on a pillow. So funny. Thanks!

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Father’s Day Philanthropy

From left to right, top to bottom:
Vintage deer head belt buckle from Etsy seller Ago2Go
Midcentury brass ship from Etsy seller Zuzashop
Creedence concert poster from Etsy seller Weisbaden49
Leather wallet from Etsy seller Joevleather
Vintage deer antlers from Etsy seller TheRetroBottega
Eames era bookends from Etsy seller AcesFindsVintage

 

Style de Hooper

Another fashion shoot, compliments of sun-maid raisins.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T-shirt: Vintage, thrifted // Shorts: Old Navy // Shoes: Vintage Zips, thrifted
Get the look: Try this shirt, or this one, or this one. And these shoes, or these, or these.

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35 Weeks

Clutso-rama just about sums it up. Maybe it’s the fact that I can’t see the ground from the same view that I used to or maybe it’s that having a baby growing out of your belly throws your balance off. Whatever the case may be, I’m a tripping machine. And not in the 1960’s psychedelic way, but rather in the skinned knee and red-face rush of embarrassment way. I tripped over uneven concrete yesterday and nearly broke the sandals I was wearing. Luckily they didn’t totally bust, but I did have to throw them away when I got home after the toe cramping from trying to keep the sandal on my foot resulted in this weird phenomenon where my toe involuntarily became stick straight and a fierce pain took over. A few weeks back I tripped, and actually fell, while walking the dog. I have a scabbed knee to prove it. Funny thing is that the same thing happened when I was pregnant with Hooper. I had taken Sarah for a walk one day toward the end of my pregnancy, when I was practically ready to shove my own arm up my va-jay-jay and pull that boy out of me. Anyway, I had tripped, fell, skinned my knee and I instantly started crying. I just felt so pathetic. And then once I started crying, I couldn’t stop. I think I even started crying when recounting the event for Willy. This time around, there have been no tears, just skinned knees. So yeah, uneven pavement is not my friend.
With my first pregnancy, I was having so many braxton hicks this week that I was instructed by my midwives to get checked out at the hospital. I cancelled a baby shower my work had planned for me. I was pretty certain I was set to deliver early. In reality, I was pregnant another SEVEN weeks (that’s a month and a half, people!) and the braxton hicks weren’t anything other than braxton hicks. I’m having a lot of braxton hicks this time around too, but I haven’t paid them any attention. I know now what the difference is.
 Emotionally, I’ve had passing episodes of fear of the inevitable labor pain. With my first pregnancy, the pain was unknown. With this pregnancy, the pain is known. I’m not sure what’s worse. The fear is very momentary, fortunately, and overall I feel confident in my body’s ability to birth this baby. And, to be honest, my memories from Hooper’s birth are saturated with so many other things other than pain. I remember my mom always telling me that we forget about the pain rather quickly, otherwise we’d never have another child. And it’s true, I can’t remember the pain exactly. I just know it was painful. Fortunately, these feelings are very momentary and all in all, I wouldn’t have chosen the home birth path if it wasn’t something I knew I was capable of or if it were something I didn’t want to experience.
In other news, we’re remodeling our kitchen. Initially we were house hunting for something a little bigger and preferably something with a pool (summers in the Valley are h-h-hot). Ultimately we decided staying where we are would be more economical so we’ve opted to make it the house we envision it to be and stay here for a few more years to enjoy it. So ya, construction should be underway this week. I realize it’s insanely close to my due date, but part of me is so excited to have a distraction… something else to “wait” on other than the ticking clock in my uterus. It’s nice to stay busy. Hopefully it all works out time wise, as I don’t envision giving birth in a dust bowl.