Sunday, January 31, 2010

Starting Early

So far I have been pretty good about holding back on buying stuff for Baby Brady. I don't want to buy too much now because it's still really early, I know I'm having a shower, and I have two big outlet trips planned. Also, I have a shopping addiction. I can get carried away, very quickly. So I have restrained myself.

But today at The Getty, Brady and I saw this book, Make Van Gogh's Messy Bed, a touch and feel book about Impressionist art. It is so cute! We couldn't resist and bought it for Baby Brady.

The book has major Impressionist paintings with something that baby can touch and feel. Like the netting on the tutu of Degas' ballerina. I used to be so obsessed with Degas' ballerinas, I had prints of them all over my bedroom. This was back in the day when I dreamt of becoming a ballerina. Too bad I royally sucked at ballet and had awful turn-out. For the record though, I was a kick-ass tap dancer.

Who doesn't love "Starry Night?" I know it's reproduced a ridiculous amount, but it's just so magical. And Baby Brady will be able to run his little fingers over the picture and feel the glittery swirls. So precious and educational!

With Brady being the biggest sports fan I have ever met, Baby Brady is going to be inundated with sports. I am glad he'll also have a little art education, just to make sure he is a well rounded infant. It's never too early to start thinking about those college applications. Just kidding...I think...I hope!


These past two weeks have been killer on Brady and I. I have had the cold from hell and Brady has been absolutely swamped at work. We have had no time (and I had no energy) to do anything fun or interesting. On Friday night, I actually had a sobbing breakdown over being sick for so long and not being able to do anything. That was probably being a tad dramatic, but I was really sick of it.

To get us out of our funk, Brady took me to The Getty in Los Angeles.

Not only does The Getty house some amazing art, the grounds are just phenomenal. Brady said it perfectly when he said that strolling the gardens was "detoxifying."

We walked through all the exhibits, sat outside and enjoyed the sunshine, chatted about art, chatted about life. It was like a wonderful mini-vacation.

Brady is so enigmatic sometimes. He can be such a guy's guy, his knowledge of sports is scary, he likes his meat and potatoes, he is obsessed with football, he hates shopping. But then we go to an art museum and his knowledge of art amazes me. I took a lot of art history classes in college but Brady still blows me out of the water with his knowledge. And he genuinely likes going to museums and looking at art. He has such a fantastic memory, he can recall all kinds of details he learned about artists and paintings years ago. I hope Baby Brady gets his memory because mine is crap.

The day was such a perfect, beautiful Southern California day of sunshine and art. It was also a great day of reconnecting with the husband after a prolonged period of crazy work hours, stuffy noses, and me going to bed at 8:00 p.m.

And I found this photograph, I have made it my new life mission to find a print of it for my home. This is "Gypsy Rose Lee and Her Girls" by Ralph Steiner. Gypsy Rose Lee was a burlesque dancer in the 1940s. I love the flamboyant costumes, the sign that says "curves ahead," and of course, the Louis Vuitton luggage. I must have this print.

I came up with another life mission today at The Getty. I want to touch a famous Impressionist painting. I want to feel the clumps of paint that Monet or Van Gogh placed so painstakingly on a canvas. I know that touching paintings is highly frowned upon, so I am going to wait until I am a little old lady to do it. Nobody would mess with a little old lady fulfilling a life mission, right?

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Nursery Decisions

Last weekend I was deathly ill with the worst cold known to man, in fact I am still suffering from this horrendous cold and if you stand still long enough I will whine about it to you. Anyways, last weekend, I stayed in bed and researched cribs using the Baby Bargains book, reading online reviews, and price comparison. I have my crib/dresser combo narrowed down to two choices:

The first is the DaVinci Kalani crib in cherry:

And the matching dresser/changer combo:

This is actually the front runner right now. I think it looks classic and stylish, it is a good price, I like the color, it got good reviews, and good safety ratings.

My second choice is the Graco Kimberly dresser/changer:

And the Graco Sarah crib:
The Graco crib is a Baby Bargains top pick and it is a smoking good deal. But the dresser did not get very good online reviews. I'm so torn. The crib and dresser have to match or else the baby will think we don't love him enough to worry about properly decorating his nursery right? Maybe I need to sleep on it. I'm starting to sound like a crazy, sick, pregnant woman.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Sick of It

Being sick sucks.

Being sick and pregnant sucks even more.

I have seriously spent the entire weekend in bed, leaving only to eat and to go to Babies R Us. I'm on a hunt for a crib, not even sickness can slow me down for that.

I have some annoying sore throat/nasal congestion/ear ache thing going on right now. This is a very common condition for me, I get these symptoms at least once a year, sometimes twice. And I have a foolproof way for battling this nasty type of cold. I take a bunch of advil cold and sinus, maybe some benadryl, possibly some nyquil, and definitely top it all off with a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. So basically I pass out and sleep the entire thing off.

But I can't partake in my foolproof remedy now! Cold medicine is out and it would be highly inappropriate to drink wine for a cold given my delicate condition. So now there is nothing I can do but drink lots of water and hot tea and rest. Blah.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

The Great Debate

I love blogging, it's fun, it's a great creative outlet, and it gives me a good excuse to go through old pictures and post pictures of my bulldogs. I also love to read other blogs. I read blogs of people I know in real life and people I only know in cyber life. I have recently stumbled upon a blog of a new mom who just recently went back to work full-time. This is currently my favorite blog because as a future working mother I am interested in how women juggle baby, work, husband, and keeping a home. I know I will find my own path in maintaining a healthy balance but it is interesting to see how other people do it.

My new favorite blogger recently posted this: a post about her going back to work and the routine she keeps to make sure she spends time with husband, baby, and gets her job done.

I thought it was a cute, interesting post. I liked that she and her husband set their alarms 15 minutes early just for some cuddle time. What shocked the hell out of me were the comments on the post. Some were supportive, some said "this sounds like my day," some said thank you. But some where down right cruel, telling her she was a bad mother, telling her to stop complaining, telling her to re-prioritize. I couldn't believe that some of these commenters actually took the time to write such mean and hateful comments.

The post and the comments had me thinking of the cold war between stay at home moms and working moms. I am very proud of the fact that I will be a working mom. My mom worked, my grandma worked, my great-grandma worked. I come from working stock. I have my own personal reasons for working and I know that it is the best decision for my family. And I hope that my son will be grow up to be proud to know that his daddy and mommy can be successful attorneys. I also know that women who stay at home are making the best decision for their family, and I'm sure they have their own personal reasons and situations that make that decision best for them.

What I don't understand is why can't the stay at homers and the workers get along!?! Nobody should try to impose their views on this issue on another family because you just don't know what another family's situation is or what is best for them. I have mommy friends that stay at home, that own their own businesses (a couple of them even!), that work full time, that work part time, that have gone back to school, that work and go back to school at the same time (that's just impressive). And all of these women are great mothers and doing what they have determined is best for themselves and their family. And I would never judge that. I just don't understand how people can judge a woman's decision to stay at home or go back to work.

I have been pretty vocal that I will be going back to work after the baby is born. The vast majority of people have been supportive. But, I have gotten minimal negative feedback about it. I have had some questioning of my choice of daycare (which is funny because I haven't made a final decision yet). To these people I usually just smile and nod and change the subject. I am future working mom to be, I don't have time to change your closed mind. And your closed mind? That would be a "you problem." That is not a "me problem" because I understand that everyone makes their own personal decisions and that it is really none of my business. I just wish that women on both sides of this debate could relax, be more open minded and stop being so damn judgmental! This isn't a sorority ladies, this is life!

Thursday, January 21, 2010


Things my baby boy will not be wearing:

My son will not be wearing a velour Juicy Couture track suit. Nevermind that this little suit costs $98.00, I am just morally opposed to men (or baby boys) wearing Juicy Couture. Me on the other hand, that's a different story. I'll rock my Juicy sweats until I can no longer squeeze my prego ass in them.

I will also not be dressing my son as a 1980's rapper.

Whatever happened to a little baby pair of Levi's and a cute t-shirt?

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

I am horrible at making decisions. Luckily this does not crossover into my professional life. I have no problem deciding how to tackle a legal issue; but, in my personal issue I'm as wishy washy as they come.

When I was little my parents would take me and my siblings to Camelot, the local arcade and miniature golf place. In the arcade you could play skee-ball, win tickets, and pick out a prize with your tickets. There was a huge display case full of brightly colored plastic rings, yo-yos, little stuffed animals, etc. Basically it was all cheap, plastic crap. And I would stand in front of the display case and cry and cry and cry because I couldn't decide what to buy with my tickets. Decisions do not come easy for me.

And when I finally make a decision about something, I have a hard time sticking to my guns. If someone says why did you decide that and not this? I will usually respond, oh I don't know I guess I should have picked the other option, you're right, I'm wrong. Again, let me stress that I am not like this as a lawyer, you question my legal reasoning and I will take you down. But if you question my decision regarding a restaurant or whether I should bring a jacket out, I will come crumbling down.

There are a lot of decisions to be made during pregnancy. Decisions need to be made regarding what you will and will not eat, exercise, genetic testing, when to announce the pregnancy, and such. And as I make my decisions, I am starting to find the ability to finally stand up for my decisions and not let others question my decisions. For example, I have decided to completely cut out caffeine while I am pregnant. This sounds like an insignificant decision, it certainly does not impact anyone but myself. But I cannot tell you how many people respond with "oh a little caffeine is fine," or "I drank caffeine when I was pregnant and my kid is fine," or "oh that's just a bunch of hype." And I have been able to say to people, "for me, I have chosen not to drink caffeine," and that's that, end of discussion. Sounds simple, but this is a big step for me.

I'm glad that I'm getting experience in standing up for my decisions. I know people will only continue to question my decisions as I make decisions regarding being a working mom (and I will be a proud working mother), nursing, disciplining, education, etc.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Change Is Good.

When I was younger and I wore jeans, I tugged out them constantly, always pulling them up so my thong wouldn't show. This picture is from a sorority/fraternity mixer thing and you can see that my oh so trendy low rise jeans are falling down. I have no words for the tube top. I think, I hope, this was some kind of theme party. I have no idea what that theme would be, sparkly maybe? I'm just hoping I didn't just walk around in public like that. Please note, I am 21 in this picture and cannot be held accountable for my wardrobe choices.

Now, when I wear jeans, I am constantly pulling my shirt down to make sure my belly panel isn't showing. Oh how the times are a changing. This is me at 18 weeks and having just eaten the Pioneer Woman's lasagna. Which is amazing, seriously, you need to make this recipe.

P.S. I have thrown out the sparkly, rainbow tube top as I am now a respectable lawyer and mother-to-be. And there is no way in hell that thing would fit me today.

A Real Onesie

Today my friend Lexe gave me this adorable onesie for Baby Brady. It's just so darn cute and little. This whole thing is starting to feel real, like really real. Like, in five months there will be a little baby, my baby, wearing this onesie. Crazy.

Monday, January 18, 2010

The Grilled Cheese Wins Again

Today it poured in sunny Southern California. I'm not talking about the usual light drizzle that sends Southern Californians into a tizzy, this was legitimate, unrelenting rain with wind and everything.

Brady and I actually had the day off together due to Dr. Martin Luther King's birthday. We rarely have the day off together so it was a nice treat to stay home together in our pajamas and work from home. Days off don't really exist for lawyers because you still need to bill and stuff still needs to get done, but it was nice to be home together. At one point in the day the poor dogs needed to go out and do their thing. We couldn't let them out back because our very small backyard had turned into a lake. So I told Brady if he would take them on a little walk to go potty, I would make him a grilled cheese sandwich. He accepted. And that's when the horror began.

I thought I had conquered the art of making a grilled cheese sandwich. In reality, I got cocky. I pulled out my fancy mandoline slicer from crate and barrel. I have used this before to get really nice, thin slices of cheese so it melts perfectly. I now hate this contraption. So I'm standing there in the kitchen, slicing my cheese, thinking how perfect my sandwich is going to be and how Brady is such a sucker for taking the dogs out in the rain while all I have to do is make a little sandwich.

I'm holding the stupid slicer in one hand, pushing down on the cheese with the other, I push down the cheese all the way to slice it and, yep, in the process slice open my finger. In fact, I took out a giant chunk of skin from the top of my right middle finger. It started gushing blood. I could barely get a paper towel off the roll before I started dripping blood all over the kitchen.

I yelled for Brady who had since returned from his walk. I started to feel dizzy and faint. I was convince I was losing buckets of blood. Brady helped me fashion a band aid around my gaping wound. After a few hours and many soaked band aids, Brady said he was taking over and that I needed to get my finger to stop bleeding. He made me hold my finger under running cold water which hurt like a bitch. Pardon my french but this really freaking hurt. I screamed and whined so much that poor Frank was all upset and I'm surprised the neighbors didn't call the cops. I started feeling dizzy again and had to sit down. Now Brady made me hold my hand above my head with ice and pressure. I continued to scream and whine that it hurt. Every time I saw the paper towel soaked with blood I felt queasy and had to look away.

It's been hours since I cut my finger and it is still bleeding, although it is bleeding a lot less. This has got to be one of the most painful things I have ever gone through. In the midst of my panicking about my finger and whining to Brady, I thought "how in the hell am I ever going to handle childbirth!?!" That epidural better be as good as people say it is!

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Joke's On Me

This past Saturday, Brady and I went to our local Improv to see Broken Lizard. For those of you who don't know, Broken Lizard is the comedy troupe behind one of my favorite movies of all time, Super Troopers.

Super Troopers is the eptiome of stupid, college-esque, humor. I love it. I've seen it a million times, I can recite all the lines, and still laugh at it. Sometimes Steph and I text each other lines from the movie and I die laughing in my office while people look at me like I'm crazy. The Improv show was great, Broken Lizard came out in character as the Super Troopers, there was an on-stage drinking contest, and lots of off-color jokes.

The last time I was at this particular Improv I was with Brady and my parents. For Christmas a few years ago I had the great idea of getting my parents Improv tickets. So I bought four tickets to Bobby Slayton, the Pitbull of Comedy. I thought it sounded fun. Brady, my parents, and me go to the show and sit down. I make sure we were not sitting too close to the stage because, hey, we were with my parents and I didn't want to get picked on. At this point, Brady and I have been living in sin for few months and my parents are still royally upset about this. Bobby Slayton takes the stage and every other word out of his mouth is the f-bomb. He's talking about sex, cheating, "self-love," porn, and even more porn. I am sitting there in absolute shock. I don't know what I was thinking, I was so embarrased to be listening to some guy talk about masturbation and porn while sitting across from my parents. Brady is cracking up. My mother is laughing so hard I think she is going to have a fit and my dad is just sitting there like a block of stone. I am mortified. I was so afraid my dad was going to yell at me for such an inappropriate present. I was afraid he was going to think Brady was morally depraved for laughing at all the inappropriate jokes. I was afraid of what he was going to think when he realized I was stifling laughter at a joke about watching porn. I vowed to never take my parents to the Improv again.

I walked out of the theater that night very nervous. I was anxious to hear my parents reaction. And they loved it! My mom and dad went on and on about how funny the comedian was, how much fun they had with us, and they wanted to do it again. Brady assured we would definitely do it again. I just thought to myself, no way, no way was I ever going to sit across a table from my parents while some guy yelled about porn and masturbation. Call me a prude but I would like to avoid that level of awkwardness at all costs.


A lot of people have asked me if I have had any weird pregnancy cravings. Do I want pickles and ice cream? Do I make my husband run out in the middle of the night to the store for some random craving? I thought I wasn't really craving anything. Mainly I've just been hungry, like really hungry. Like I'm going to be ginormous by the end of this pregnancy if I keep feeding my never ending hunger.

But I realized I was having two major cravings.

The first is hot dogs. I've always liked hot dogs so this is not that surprising; but I rarely eat them because, well they are horrible for you and who know what's in them. But now, I'm averaging a hot dog a week. I love them. I obsess about them. I have to have them. I know they give me wicked heartburn and I don't even care. I get my hot dog and my tums and I'm a happy lady.

My second craving? Dancing. Yep, dancing. I want to go dancing sooooo bad. I love to dance. DJs, live bands, karaoke, show tunes, I don't care. If it has a beat I'll groove to it.

Here I am dancing at Pechanga Casino after Jader's wedding. I may look like a fool but I look happy.

The only problem is that it's kinda inappropriate for a big ol' pregnant lady to go shaking her groove thang at the local club. Plus, Brady isn't really the clubbing type. I also do not want to go to a club and be forced to watch all the little 21 year olds try to find something to go home with. Or maybe I do, that might be funny. So no going to a club to dance for me. I am going to a wedding in March, hopefully I'll be able to squeeze in a little dance there. In the meantime, I'm going to get a hot dog.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010


Is there any meal more comforting than grilled cheese and tomato soup? I don't think so. And yes, I dip my grilled cheese sandwiches in ketchup, it's amazing.

This meal was one of my favorites growing up and remains a favorite today. When I was in college I couldn't make a grilled cheese sandwich. My roommate Erin used to make them for me. When I lived with Annalise during law school, I still couldn't make one. So I would microwave bread and cheese and dip it in ketchup. Then Annalise and I would drink a bottle of wine. Then we would run out of wine and walk across to the street to the liquor store in our pajamas for more wine. Then we would yell at the t.v. And then we would be in bed by midnight because if you go to bed by midnight you won't be hungover. Then we would text each other all throughout the day about how much we love diet coke, how bad our headaches were, and who was picking up the wine on the way home.

I'm very proud to report that I now can make a real grilled cheese sandwich all by myself. Brady actually taught me. And I no longer guzzle wine at night. I do still yell at the t.v. though, some things never change.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

A Small Improvement

Today was decidedly much better than yesterday. Although unlike yesterday, someone actually went to the hospital today. The emergency room in fact.

You see, Stephanie doesn't get along very well with cabinets.

She appears to be having fun in a cabinet here. She's all blond curls, smiles, and cuteness. But cabinets don't actually like her. In fact they wish to do her harm.

Today while at work, Stephanie hit her head so hard on a cabinet, her supervisor sent her to the emergency room. The emergency room. For bonking her head on a cabinet. Stephanie had been bent over looking for something and one of the kids (she works at a daycare center) yelled that she could see Stephanie's tattoo. So Steph snapped upright to pull up her jeans and smacked her head into a cabinet. See kids, tattoos are dangerous.

Now she has to stay up all night and do laundry in order to avoid falling asleep with her mild concussion.

Poor Stephie!

Monday, January 11, 2010

Worst. Day. Ever.

Today has been the Worst Day Ever. Ok, it could have been a lot worse. No one went to the hospital or faced financial ruin. But still, it was one of those days where every little thing makes you want to scream bloody murder. Normally, I would deal with one of these days by crawling into bed with a bottle of Chardonnay and a straw to watch crappy reality television. For obvious reasons, I need another way to vent my frustration, hence this blog.

First of all, today is Monday and I woke up late cursing the fact that it was Monday. And my house was really, really cold. That is never fun, having to wake up on a Monday to a freezing cold house. The morning progressed well enough until I got dressed for work. Getting dressed at four months pregnant is not fun. Everyday something new doesn't fit. Things are getting tighter and more uncomfortable. But I had a cute dress picked out, that still fits and is flattering. I pull on my black tights to go with my dress and notice that there is a big hole in the leg. Crap. That was the last pair of black tights that I have that fit. All I had left was a pair of brown tights, but I didn't have a cute brown dress to wear. So I begrudgingly put on the brown tights and a brown skirt. The skirt fit fine. It's sweaters that I have a problem with because of my ever growing, motherly chest. I settled on a sweater set and went to work looking like an Ann Taylor sausage.

I get in my car and realize I have zero gas. But I woke up super late so I have no choice but to drive to work on fumes and get gas on my way to my afternoon meeting. I drive to work getting emails on my blackberry the whole time from my boss to come talk to him when I get in. Great, now he is going to know just how late I am.

At work, I'm just frustrated and crabby. I was tired, I looked like a sausage, my tights were cutting off all oxygen flow, etc. In this crabby, frustrated state I start to think of all the little things Brady did over the weekend that pissed me off. Like not carrying the vacuum cleaner upstairs the second I asked him to. You know, important stuff. So I bombard Brady with bitchy text messages for a couple of hours. And, gasp!, he doesn't immediately respond. What the hell? What, is he working or something? How rude. This makes me even more crabby.

Then I heat up the leftovers I brought for lunch and they smell like feet and I can't eat them. And my apple slices were brown. Now I'm crabby, frustrated, and starving.

I go about my work and then suddenly realize that I need to haul ass out of my office so I can get gas and get to my meeting on time. I drive to the gas station and circle and circle and circle waiting for an open pump. I finally get one and realize I don't have my wallet with me. I had to switch my hot pink Coach purse to my neutral Louis Vuitton purse because I was wearing a red sweater. There was no way I was going to look like a sausage and carry a clashing purse. The gas light is on, so I pray that I make it to my meeting.

I go to my meeting and get into a huge yelling fight with opposing counsel. He was rude and I refused to back down. Funny thing was, back when I was in law school I interviewed for a position at his firm and got it. I turned it down because of his reputation for being an asshole. I clearly made the right decision.

My meeting ends and I head up, praying, begging, that I make it home without running out of gas. I get off of the freeway, I'm so close, and my car begins to slow down and jerk, then it starts to seize up. I'm running out of gas. I manage to get over to the right lane and turn down a side street before I completely run out of gas. Luckily, even though I didn't have any money on me, I randomly had my Triple A card. So I called and the tow truck comes. He informs me that there is a $7 charge for gas. I explain that I have no money because I left my wallet at home. Hello, if I had $7 I would have bought some freaking gas! He says he will give me a little bit. I barely get home, get my wallet and fill up my tank.

I'm finally home, eating a snack, wearing comfy clothes. I sit down at the computer to review the file for my meeting tomorrow and realize I have forgotten the important part of the file at my office. Ugh, I give up. I'm off to bed to watch reality t.v. and eat oreos. Oreos are no Chardonnay, but they will do.

Sunday, January 10, 2010


Today at church we celebrated the Baptism of the Lord so the homily was all about renewing your baptismal promises and recommitting yourself to the Church. I was baptized in the Catholic Church when I was 7 years old and have renewed my baptismal promises several times over the years (you do it at baptisms, when you are confirmed, at certain masses, etc.) I always try to pay attention to the promises that I am making to the Church, the rejection of evil, and such. But tonight I paid extra special attention and really affirmed my baptism with a special kind of gusto because it felt so much more important to do so while being pregnant. My faith has waxed and waned over the years, but I feel it is really important to raise my child in my faith and for myself to have a strong foundation in that faith if I am going to pass it down to my child. When my child is old enough to make educated decisions, I will allow him to choose his own path, but until then I consider it my job to lead him down the path of faith.

While I was sitting in church, thinking about renewals of promises, I started thinking about an episode of Real Housewives of Orange County. Ok, I know I was supposed to be concentrating and I swear I had been all along but this episode just randomly popped in my head. I am a good Catholic, not a perfect one! Anyways, in this episode Vicki and Don renew their wedding vows at this awesome beach location. So I started thinking about renewing my wedding vows with Brady. Not necessarily having a ceremony, but going away for a little romantic vacation before the baby comes to renew our promises to one another and have some fun.

When I got home from church, I asked Brady if we should go on a "babymoon." He said yes immediately! Today I reaffirmed my faith to my church and decided to renew my promises to my husband on a "babymoon." Now we just need to figure out somewhere to go. Not bad for a lazy Sunday. Oh and we went to Ikea and bought a bookcase today. Super productive.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Things I Heart

I heart my friends (note: there are some key people missing from this photo but it's pretty hard to get everyone in one spot at the same time. ) I have known these girls since U.C. Santa Barbara (note again: I met Raeanne after college but she went to UCSB too and she's such a kindred spirit I'm shocked I didn't know her in college.) I've been through lots with my girls, lots of fun, lots of craziness, lots of life changes. They are just the best.

I need answers!

Since finding out I am pregnant I have been inundated with information about pregnancy, giving birth, babies, etc. I have all the books (special thanks to Erin!), I read all the websites, I talk to other moms. I know what to expect while expecting, I have a birth plan formulated (drugs please!), and I have a slight clue what to do when the baby gets here (emphasis on slight).

But I still have burning, pressing questions. Questions that I have yet to find answers for.

First of all, how the hell do you tie a moby wrap? This is the most complicated contraption I have ever seen. And is this even remotely comfortable for a baby? Here baby, let me smush you against myself in some kind of crazy t-shirt sling thing. I'm not sure about this one.

Then there is the diaper bag. Should the diaper bag match my stroller or my outfit? Should I have multiple diaper bags to coordinate with all my clothes? I switch my purse almost daily, will I do the same with my diaper bag? Or should the diaper bag match the baby's outfit. See, these are important questions!

All I know right now is that I want this diaper bag.

Isn't this the cutest bag ever!? I love that it doesn't look like a diaper bag. It looks like a super cute purse. Plus it has lots of pockets, stylish yet functional, I like it.

I have many other questions but Teen Mom is on and I'll have to blog about them later. Just as I was obsessed with hot mess, train wreck wedding shows while I was engaged (I love me some Bridezillas), I am now currently obsessed with hot mess, train wreck pregnancy shows.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

It's A ........

Today I had an ultrasound at sixteen weeks. Usually one finds out the gender at twenty weeks so I was not sure if I would be able to find out the gender at this ultrasound. Unfortunately, Brady had a deposition today so he couldn't go. We decided if the ultrasound tech could tell the gender, I would have her write it down and put it in an envelope and we would read it together.

So I'm laying there on the table, covered in goo, and the tech says "oh I can tell the gender, do you want to know?" I was so close to saying "yes, tell me right now!" But instead I asked her to please write it down for me and put it in an envelope. Then I asked her how sure she was of it, she said "90-95% sure, it's pretty clear." Well, that totally convinced me it was a boy. I mean, that comment just wouldn't make sense if it was a girl. Brady has been completely convinced it is a boy the whole time, I was thinking girl. But with the tech's comment, I knew it was a boy.

The day dragged on forever and ever. Finally, Brady and I were both home. I handed him the envelope.

And here is Brady right after learning that he is going to have a SON in June. It's a BOY!!!!

And here I am at 16 weeks carrying my son. Ok, this may be more of me carrying the bag of cheddar potato chips I had as a late afternoon snack. But I promise you a baby is in there too.

And here is our baby boy. Aren't ultrasounds so freaky? I mean I can see his little bones. It's totally awesome but freaky too. Modern medical technology is just so strange.

I'm pretty sure this is the money shot although it isn't labeled. I'm not sure because I asked the tech not to point it out to me during the ultrasound and this shot was just included in the cd.

Brady and I are extremely excited about our little boy and that the ultrasound went well. I think Brady is already ordering his first little Michigan jersey. Mickey and I are definitely going to be outnumbered but I'm okay with that. Frank is such a momma's boy, I'm sure my son will be too.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

In Another Life...

Today I had a meeting on an elementary school campus. I love when I have meetings on school campuses rather than at a school district's main office. I like to see the kids, it reminds me of the importance of what I do and that my job isn't just about case law and statutes, it is really about the kids.

Everytime I am on a school campus or talking to the teachers, I wish I had become a teacher. When I first started college, my goal was to be an English teacher. Then I wanted to go to fashion school and even applied to and was accepted at the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in Los Angeles. Then I decided I would get my masters degree in something like social work. So I took (and bombed) the GRE. At some point, I decided on law school, signed up for an LSAT review class and I've now been an attorney for three years.

But every once in a while I go back to my original desire to be a teacher. I love education, which is one of the reasons why I love practicing special education law. I had a lot of anxiety about becoming a teacher. I worried that if I became a teacher right out of college (after getting a credential of course) I wouldn't have enough life experience to really get through to students. All of the teachers I had that I really respected had great life stories and experience and could bring so much to the table. I worried that a 22-23 year old really wouldn't have all that much to talk about. I also was nervous about talking in front of a class for an entire class period, an entire day. What if I couldn't remember my lesson? What if I couldn't remember the main point of the symbolism in the novel I was teaching? So I let my desire to be a teacher fall by the wayside.

I love being a lawyer, I practice in a great area of law, I work with great people, its interesting, and fulfilling. But it can be stressful. And I hate billing my time with every ounce of my being. One should not have to account for their day in six minute increments. It is near impossible. And while I enjoy being a lawyer, I don't know if I can do this for the rest of my working life. It is a very confrontational job. People are never in a good mood when they talk to a lawyer. The lawyer is only called in when something goes wrong. I know I am working to protect great educational programming in my school districts but I rarely get to see the positive side of the classes and programs I represent. I just hear the complaints. After a while, it is draining.

I worked very hard to get where I am and I don't plan on giving it up soon. But in a few years down the road, I would love to go back to school to become a teacher. Possibly a special education teacher. Iwant to see that I can make a difference in a child's life, not just that I can save a school district from some form of legal liability. It's nice to dream....

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

A Whole New World

I don't really mean for this to turn into a blog entirely about pregnancy. However, that is just where my life is right now. I could talk about my bulldogs, but I talk about them a lot. And they really just sleep a lot, they are not very exciting. I could talk about work but that would be pretty boring to everyone but the very small portion of the legal population who practice special education law. I could talk about Brady's work, but asbestos litigation is even more boring than special education law; and it's sad, people actually die in his cases.

So it's back to talking about being pregnant. One of the fun things about pregnancy is the shopping. You get to buy new clothes, buy lots of stuff for the baby, etc. For a shopoholic, it opens up a whole new world of shopping possibilities. Now don't say that I sound shallow. There are a lot of not fun things about being pregnant, like not feeling very good and the extreme amount of worrying about everything. Its only right that there is an outlet like retail therapy.
Last weekend I went shopping with my sister. We ran into my grandma and aunt at the mall who bought me shoes, clothes, and a cookie. I felt like a little kid again, it was a lot of fun!

I have not really started wearing maternity clothes because I don't really need to. With all the weight that I lost last summer, all my fat clothes have been fitting just fine. Plus I'm not really showing. But my grandma and aunt bought me my first maternity clothes.

I would totally wear this shirt not pregnant. In fact, I plan on wearing it well after the baby is here.

I thought this would be good for work, comfortable yet professional. The shirt has little black polka dots which I think are classy and fun, just like me, kind of.

The best thing about maternity clothes is how extremely comfortable they are. Seriously, I may never go back. Look at the stretchy panel on this skirt. I wish I had it for Thanksgiving. Every day I find another piece of clothing that doesn't fit. But now I have my skirt with a stretchy panel so I can relax and be comfy. I love shopping so I am definitely looking forward to buying more maternity clothes. I'm also excited to start legitimately showing because right now I just look like I'm carrying a spare tire around my waist.

And since I don't want to be completely consumed with talking about pregnancy here is Mickey sleeping like a little angel.

And my Frankie with his big, squishy face.

Friday, January 1, 2010

Holiday Wrap Up

The whirlwind of the holidays has come and gone. All the presents have been opened, some have yet to be returned, the Christmas decorations are put away, and we are back to our regular lives without the growing anticipation of the approaching holidays. Although, trust me, with being pregnant there is no shortage of anticipation in the Brady household.

Here's a small recap of my holiday season:

In the beginning of December we went to Las Vegas to celebrate Brady's 29th birthday. We stayed at theHotel and it was amazing!

It was interesting being in Vegas while being completely sober the entire time. I didn't mind it though. I just ate. A lot. In fact, I think I scared Brady with the amount that I ate. It was also funny to watch on the incredibly drunk people. Drunk people watching is the best. We walked around the gardens at the Bellagio which is one of my favorite things in Vegas.

Please ignore my huge roots. I was waiting to get out of the first trimester to color my hair. I have since colored and my hair and it looks much, much better.

I loved all the old fashioned ornaments. They reminded me so much of the ornaments my grandmothers always had on their trees. Now, I have many disco balls all over my tree. I need to find some of these old fashioned ones next year.

Here I am at 13 weeks pregnant. Not much to see, but I thought I would document it. Now I'm 15 weeks and there still isn't much to see. I seem to just be getting wider.

There were lots of other holiday events in December, work parties, luncheons with friends. All of it was fun. It was an interesting holiday season because we really told everyone about the pregnancy in December so it was fun to hear people's stories, congratulations, and advice. Brady and I even went to a Babies R Us to drop off a toy for the Toys for Tots collection. Babies R Us is a very, very scary place. We threw our toy in the bucket and got the hell outta there.

My grandma has started a new tradition the past few years. On Christmas day, everyone gets a matching sweatshirt. Here we are with our green sweatshirts (last year it was red, I'm hoping for blue next year).

We actually went outside and found a neighbor to take our picture. Yes, we looked like a crazy green sweatshirt cult. But you gotta love family. I just want to see my grandma carry 17 green sweatshirts to the cashier at Kohl's.

The holiday season was busy and hectic, but lots of fun. I got to see lots of good friends and family. I even managed to see my husband once in a while. I hope everyone out there had a great holiday season and I'm looking forward to a quiet January. And Brady is in charge of Valentine's Day this year, so I don't have any holidays to worry about for a while.