Claire and Crossfit: a 1 year update

3 months into my Crossfit journey, I made a blog post about my experience and I'm pretty sure it was seen on all 7 continents. 7,000 people viewed it in the first week alone! More than likely it was due to the before and after photos... everyone loves a good fat girl redemption story (or at least I sure do!). I received so much positive feedback from many people, and I have friends who have been begging for an update photo, so I thought this would be a great time to do it... My 1 year anniversary of my love affair with Crossfit!

SO much has happened this year in the gym that it could not be contained in the confines of The Garage. The mystery of the WOD awakens something in people that is just unexplainable. Confidence? Yes, tons of it. Humility? Servin' up hot, fresh Humble Pie! I have had a hard time figuring out what it is, but I think I've finally nailed it down: HONOR. Not really a word you think of in the gym. The following words explain it much better than I can........

1 Corinthians 9:27 "But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified."

1 Corinthians 6:19-20 "Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body."

1 Corinthians 3:16-17 "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him. For God's temple is holy, and you are that temple."

Romans 12:1 "I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship."

1 Corinthians 10:31 "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God."


This year I have learned to honor God by taking care of my body and making it a strong dwelling place for Him. I honor my family by taking care of my physical self so I can be the best wife/mom/daughter/friend I can be. I honor God's gifts to us by enjoying nature's foods and animals (which have turned out to be more delicious than I ever imagined!). 

 I honor other athletes who are on this journey with me. We grunt, scream, cry, laugh, come to the brink of death, and back again, day after day, together, because we love it. We hold each other accountable and push each other to the limits. There is just something unexplainably comforting in looking around during a workout and seeing everyone else suffering as much as you (sounds bad, but it's true!). If they can do it, I can do it. If I can do it, they can do it. And we won't stop until the work is done. Then, when we come out on the other side, we are all stronger!  

And last but not least, we honor the sport. It may just be a barbell, or a pull up rig, or a bag of sand, but it has the ability to transform you if you humble yourself and become the student. Crossfit is a sport but it is also a practice. Something magical happens inside of us between the confines of "3-2-1-Go," and "Time." I just can't describe it. If you haven't tried it, you will never understand.

OK, so what all have I accomplished this year? Maybe I'll just make a list...
My proudest accomplishment would probably be becoming a "mostly Rx athlete." I rarely scale WODs now (Mostly due to Coach Tim not letting me!) I can do almost every skill: double unders, pistols, STRICT RING DIPS <<woot! woot!>>, toes-to-bar, handstand push ups, all kinds of pullups-- kipping, strict, chest-to-bar, strict chest-to-bar-- pretty much everything but muscle ups(... which I want to have by June 14, 2013!) 200# Back squat, 180# Front squat, 115# snatch, 148# clean, 168# jerk, 140# x 2 overhead squat, 97# strict press... I could talk about weightlifting for days............ 

Weight loss has been so dramatic! I think it is 75% due to my diet alone. I ate strict Paleo for the first 3 months, then about 90% Paleo for a few months, then Whole30 for 3 weeks (cut off by family vacation), then 85% Paleo for a few months, finishing up with a good month of Whole30. In that time, I have lost a whopping 53 lbs and dropped 4 pant sizes!! All of my clothes are too small! Matt says I look like we did when we got married (I don't believe that). But between you and me (and Matt), I am lookin' good and feelin' confident! ;)

So now comes the part where I want to thank so many people! 

My sweet husband Matt. He not only provides for my membership, but understands the value of exercise and encourages me to be healthy. He makes sure I have the time I need as well as all the resources available to be the best Claire I can be. And he loves me just the way I am! And my 2 kids, Ollie (age 4) and William (age 1) who make me use my functional fitness every single day. Ollie tells me "Mommy, you are strong like a rock!" I hope my new-found passion for health and wellness gives me many, many more full, healthy, active years with all 3 of you! 

The owners of The Garage for making such a great family-oriented place where I can bring my kids and they can see me work out and think that exercise is just a normal part of every day.  So Andy, Shane, Dr. Eric, and Wes... THANK YOU! 

I have to thank my favorite coaches: Travis, Justin, Tim, and Bruce. I made my first big gains under Travis' guidance and learned never to be afraid of the weight! Then Justin came along and awakened the Oly beast within me, and has written some gnarly programming that as a result, has packed on some major muscle mass to us all! And then came Tim who watches (prowles!) over me every day and NEVER EVER EVER lets me take it easy. I just "get" his way of coaching, and he just "gets" me. Almost all of my skills have developed exclusively under Tim's guidance. He may be young, but age is by no means indicative of one's abilities as a coach! And Bruce, my very first coach for a little while there, and also has become my nutrition coach. He is such a wonderful mentor and role model as he takes the Master's division by storm. He is just one of those people that knowing him makes your life feel a little bit richer.  

And a big thank you to the Garage family.

 I could not do it without the morning crew-- You guys make my mornings fun and it is great to start the day will y'all! 

Garage Girls-- You ladies are so inspiring and fun to compete and celebrate our accomplishments with! Thank you for the constant reminders that every day is a chance to be great! 

And all those random friends I get to see on "reunion day" (Saturdays) and at Barbell Club-- it is cool to watch everyone progress and get stronger week by week, month by month. Team Garage... woot woot!

What about now? Well, I still have a long way to go. I want to hit new PRs in everything. I want to perfect my skills. I want to try gymnastics again. I dream about getting my first muscle up. I want to compete in the individual Rx woman's division. I want to lose a bit more fat from my lower body <bleh!> Will I ever make it to THE Games? Let's just be realistic, probably not. But GG athlete Crystal McCullough said it perfectly "But I will train like I am."  I said it before, and I'll say it again. I want to honor God with my body and be the best Claire I can be!  




And now... the before and afters... I am pleased to announce that it is time to retire the old yellow bathing suit!  The bottoms are so big that they fall down when I walk! 







































 The "befores" are March 2012                                                                   The "afters" are March 2013

90 Days of Awesome

So I wasn't going to do this. And I REALLY wasn't going to post photos. But I want people to know that they can do it too. So if you are a random person searching the internet for Crossfit and/or Paleo before and after photos (like I was 3 months ago!), here you have it!





Today marks 90 days, the end of the beginning of my journey into Crossfit. 91 days ago, if you had told me that I would be doing the things that I can do today, I would have laughed at you. If you told me that I would stop eating bread, I would have laughed even harder. If you told me that I would be wearing clothes I have not worn since before Ollie was born, I would have told you to shut the front door. But I am doing it!

 Let's start at the beginning...

I first discovered Crossfit by trolling a women's workout page on Facebook. There was a post looking for women who do Crossfit that would like to try out for American Ninja Warrior. I LOVE that show! Those normal, everyday people, are amazing athletes! If there is some form of exercise that would get me into that type of shape, I would do it! I forgot all about it until I saw a photo on Facebook of a friend from high school (Casie P!) at her Crossfit gym. She was on gymnast rings, and it looked fun! So I started digging around online and discovered a CF gym (or box, as they are called) right around the corner from me! After reading about CF online and some of the before/after testimonies, I knew without a doubt that this is what I wanted to do. I would gladly give up my beautiful globo-gym membership with it's spin classes, Zumba, "weight training" classes, Pilates studio, shiny mirrors, army of elliptical machines, hot tubs, spa, and even watersides to "become a Ninja Warrior" (ok, that's a little dramatic, I'm not REALLY going to be a Ninja Warrior. Or will I?....)

I was completely intimidated by everyone and everything the first time I walked into The Garage. However I was shocked to discover how friendly and down-to-earth every was! Every single person came to shake my hand and welcome me. I could immediately get the sense of a team atmosphere. Bruce was my coach and I as the only person at the 7:00pm class. As he took me through my first warm up, I began to wonder what I had gotten myself in to. 1/4 mile run, bear crawls, mountain climbers, squats, push ups, and burpee broad jumps. And that was just the warm up?!?! The WOD (workout of the day) was scaled down to accommodate to my fitness level. It was 12 minutes for time: 50 wall ball shots (squatting low, then throwing a 12 pound medicine ball to a 9ft mark on the wall, catch, squat, throw, repeat), 100 single jumps with a jump rope, 10 pull ups. Repeat if time is not up. About 3 minutes into it, I wanted to quit so bad. I needed water so bad. I thought I was going to vomit and faint at the same time. Bruce, Simon, and Tim kept telling me I was doing great. Keep moving, even if it is slow, just keep moving. When I couldn't get my chin up over the pull up bar anymore, Bruce physically pushed me up over the bar. He would not let me stop. I suffered through 1 round + 13 more wall balls. When it was finally over I was delirious. I took a spot flat on my back on the floor. I can't tell you how long I laid there trying to catch my breath and stop my flailing legs. When I finally was still, I felt...different. I have had many exercise induced "endorphin highs" before, but this was different. The only way I can accurately describe it was sort of euphoric. And it lasted the next few hours. I was hooked!

That same day, I began "The Paleo Diet" (but it truly is a Paleo lifestyle). The prospect of it was horrifying. Before, I used to drink 4-5 diet cokes a day, cookies every night after dinner, a giant dessert once a week, and my family still lovingly (yet truthfully) calls me "Biscuit Butt" because I LOVE biscuits, bread, and pretty much anything with a carb. Seriously, if I can give up grains, ANYONE can give up grains. I expected to feel awful for a few weeks, especially since I was starting Cold Turkey, however it was just the opposite. I felt amazing from the very beginning! I had tons of energy, I was not hungry, no headaches, and very few cravings. I lost 7 lbs the first week. I then began to research the diet, and I decided to eliminate all gluten from my diet. Let me tell you, this was one of the best decisions I have ever made! I have always been what my mom calls "a worry wort." And when I was 18, I began suffering from panic attacks and severe anxiety. I have never accepted prescribed medication at multiple doctors' advice, but rather I have tried to manage it on my own. Since I have been eating Paleo, I have had ZERO anxiety. And that was even through weathering the storm of unexpectedly losing my brother-in-law. I absolutely will eat this way for the rest of my life. (Don't get me wrong, I do allow myself 2 treats a week, just to keep my taste-buds happy!) All of the work I do in the gym is fueled by my food choices. And now, 3 months later, junk food makes me literally sick! MAJOR lifestyle change for me!

I can not talk about my experience with Crossfit and not talk about the people at The Garage. There are so many characters who effect me in different ways. Some keep me laughing, some keep me going, and some and just plain inspirational. There are a few in particular that I want to note, just in case they happen to read this: My #1 coach, Travis, for having confidence in me and making me "lift that grown woman weight." My lifting partner Susan, for calling me on my B.S., constantly reminding me of my goals, and never, ever, ever letting me sandbag.  And so many other women who celebrate my victories and serve as daily inspiration. I hope that one day I can lift like Jennifer, do pull ups like Angel, be fast like Laura, explain things like Aubrey, and be an all-around bad ass like Jamie. After I've had 4 kids, I hope I look like Verity. Then when I "grow up," I want to be just like Renee, still Crossfitting! (I didn't mention the guys here, but they are awesome too!) Those are just a few, but seriously, I could not have my rear in the gym and keep going every day without the Crossfit community. So if you are reading this, thank you for being you!!

So that brings me to the big evaluation. How awesome did I really get in 90 days? Pretty dang awesome from where I began! My goal for the year (which I reached in 2 months!) is to do 1 unassisted pull up.. check, I can string together 12 in a row! I can front squat 165 lbs. (started at 70 lbs). Back squat 185 lbs (started at 135) I can easily run 3 miles (0 before). I can do toes-to-bar. I can hang squat clean 110 lbs. I can do real chest-to-ground push ups. I am no longer afraid of box jumps. I can do 50 1.5 pood unbroken kettle bell swings. The word "tabata" no longer makes me weak in the knees. I have discovered that I love rowing. I LOVE olympic lifting. Most importantly, I have learned to *RESPECT* this one body that God gave me by filling it with nutritious food and using it how it was meant to be used so I can live a full life in all areas of my life. It is funny how when I sit down to write my accomplishments, I begin with my working gains. The weight loss is truly secondary, in my mind. But just for the record, I have actually only lost a total of 16 lbs, but I have lost MAJOR fat! I went from approximately 34% body fat down to 27%. I have gone from a size 12 to a size 6 (in my favorite brand). And for the first time since I was 22, I am very happy about my body. Sure, there are still changes I want to make, improvements that will happen, things that will never be the same after having 2 babies (helloooo falling center of gravity!) but I now value my body not for what it looks like, but for what it can do! That is priceless.

I don't plan on slowing down any time soon. I can only imagine what I will be able to do 6 months from now! And one year from now! Muscle ups. Yes, mark it down, in one year, June 14, 2013, I want to be able to do a muscle up.

The proof (in my old bathing suit. It's kinna ugly but I wanted to do it for consistency) The side photos are not very good, but you get the idea:

Day 1-- size 12

Day 90-- size 6

William's Birth Story

William's birth story really begins on Wednesday October 12th. I went for my weekly prenatal checkup and the midwife told me that I would be an excellent candidate for an induction. I was having a pretty rough time at that point- lots of contractions, bleeding, elevated blood pressure, so I decided to take her up on the offer! I knew I would be going into the hospital last Thursday night so I spent the rest of Wednesday cleaning the house and buying any last minute things. On Thursday, Matt took most of the day off work and we had a special "Ollie Day." We took her out for pizza, to the mall to ride the carousel, did pretty much whatever she wanted to do before dropping her off at Matt's parents' house to spend the night. It was really sad leaving her knowing that the next time I see her, she won't be an only child any more!

Matt and I had a really nice dinner at a mexican restaurant where we just sat and talked for a long, long time. We knew that our lives were about to dramatically change and it was so nice to be able to just sit and reflect on how far we've come on the past 5 years together as well as our plans for the future. I will never ever forget that dinner for the rest of my life.

We went home to wait for the call from the hospital to tell us when to come in for the induction. I went to bed around 9:00, didn't fall asleep until around 10:00, and woke up again at 11:00 when Matt came to bed. I tossed and turned for hours until the hospital finally called at 1:30am and we agreed to a 5:00am arrival time! At 2:30 I was contracting, nauseated, and tore up with heartburn (from the mexican food!) so I got up and took a long shower, shaved my legs (not an easy task), dried my hair, put on makeup, and watched a recorded episode of Jersey Shore. Matt woke up at 3:45 and we went to Waffle House for breakfast. Too bad we had the most annoying waitress ever or we would have had a really nice time, but oh well.

We arrived at the hospital around 4:45am and were in the room ready by 5:00am. I had been contracting all night and by the time they hooked me up to the monitors, the contractions were coming every 4 mins! I was already in labor! They started me on pitocin at 11:00am and broke my water around 12:00pm. That was so strange! I thought I was peeing all over the midwife's hand but it was just the water breaking! After the water broke, the contractions started coming really strong so we knew it was only a matter of hours now. I decided to get the epidural before things progressed too far. I gotta say. I still don't like getting an epidural. It feels like I am being prodded into the inside of my body, but in reality it is only about 2 inches. The anesthesiologist talked to me about the owl costume she was making her son for Halloween (and I just happened to know something about owl costumes!) and when that wasn't distracting me enough, I went to my "happy place" playing in the ocean in the Bahamas with Matt and Ollie. After what seemed like hours, it was over! I wasn't completely numb, like with Ollie, I just felt like someone rubbed novacane (?) all over my lower body. I could still move my legs!

By that time, my parents, my brother and his girlfriend, and my Paw Paw (William!) had come so I just relaxed and talked to them until I started feeling like I was going to poop everywhere! I called the nurse to come check me but I was only 6cm dilated! That may have been true but I knew he was coming, and FAST. At that point everyone left except Matt. The next contraction I felt like I had to push! I called the nurse but she didn't come fast enough. Finally Matt went into the hall to get someone, I had another contraction and freaked out because it felt like the baby was coming out. I couldn't stop my body from pushing! I was like "Oh my goodness! I'm going to have this baby laying here all by myself!" Matt and the nurse arrived in time! Nurse took one look and said "Looks like we're having a baby!" The midwife was there in the next minute, my mom came to check on me and decided to stay (in the corner where she didn't have to "see anything"- she can't even take the sight of a bleeding paper cut.. lol!).

The midwife looked and said "You are probably going to have him in 2 pushes!" So I pushed and it felt so good! Like a release of pressure or something. She told me to stop- which was SO hard to do, then push about 5 more times really really hard. I am SO glad I kept exercising and even worked out my abs until I was 36 weeks because it took every thread of abdominal muscle I had! (Matt later told me that Will's shoulders were stuck and I was having to work really hard to get them out!) He finally came out and the first thing I said was "He's so cute!" The midwife tried to hand him to me but the umbilical cord was so short that she had to hold him close while Matt cut the cord. When I finally got a good look at him I thought he looked just like Ollie, but with a tan! He sort of fussed a little but he never even cried! They let me hold him for a while instead of whisking him away for a bath, etc. I even got him to breast feed within 10 minutes of being born! After I got cleaned up, my family came in to see him. It was so sweet to see my Paw Paw, who William is named after, take pictures of him. He was SO prideful. My dad was there too. He didn't get to be there when Ollie was born so this was special for him too. We all sat around and held him and talked about who he looked like for about an hour until they moved me up to the mom and baby floor (and laughed at me trying to walk to the bathroom after the epidural!). It was a priceless hour! Oh! And I can't forget the saltine crackers and apple juice the nurse brought me! It was one of the tastiest snacks I've ever eaten in my entire life!

Matt's parents brought Ollie to visit when we were going to the new room and she got to visit for about an hour. However she lost interest after about 15 minutes! But it was sweet and I knew there were be plenty of time for making friends later!

Matt, Will, and I settled in for the night and Will was the only one who really slept! We were too busy talking, being excited, and checking to make sure he was ok all night long! It really couldn't have been any better! Praise God for miracles!!!

Will's 1st week

This has been one of the best weeks ever! I was really nervous because everyone know that having a brand new baby is not easy. However, it was not nearly as difficult as I anticipated!

Our stay at the hospital was EXCELLENT! I was not happy about having to deliver at Northside-Atlanta because of the reputation of it being a "baby factory" but let me tell you- The level of care I received was WAY better than Kennestone and I really felt like I was in a hotel with nurses popping in sporadically, not a hospital (ok, other than the food... YUCK!). They did not "mess with us" as much as they did at Kennestone. There were not nurses in and out to take blood pressure, temp., etc. every 2 hours. I only saw a nurse every 6 hours (who brought me pain meds!) or when they had to take Will to the nursery to have his biliruben (?) checked. Other than that, we were pretty much left alone unless we called for help. Also, they knew of my history of breast surgery and automatically sent lactation consultants 3 different times to help us! I really just can't say enough about Northside. If we have more children, I will absolutely go there again. No questions asked.

We got home last Sunday and had a really nice quiet afternoon. Ollie was with my parents so the 3 of us just hung out, Will and I slept, Matt watched football, it was really nice.

Ollie has been EXCELLENT! She was a little defiant toward me but I understand. The best part is, she adores William! She doesn't really want to touch him, luckily. She just wants to look at him and describe him. "He has on a hat! He has monkeys on his feet!" She does like to hold him and kiss him but she is very, very gentle! The transition has not been at all as tough as I expected!

I have decided to end my breast feeding days. It was a decision Matt and I made together so I feel 100% confident that it is best for all of us. Will did so good in the hospital but things quickly went downhill as soon as we got home. He was taking 30 mins to latch on, 20-30mins on one breast, 20-30 mins to latch on to the other side, then feeding for 20-30 mins again. And he wasn't draining each breast so I was having to pump 10-15 mins after each feeding. By the time it was all done, we were starting over again. Not to mention the entire left side of my left breast has completely blocked ducts so I literally feel like I have huge golf balls under my skin. But you know what? I am totally proud of myself! We did the colostrum, the transitional milk, and a few days of "real milk." And I am so happy for what I was able to do! The formula feeding is going well. He is gaining weight and is not having gas problems (like Ollie had)! I am just so so so happy about what little breast milk he did get and there were no tears shed when we made his first formula bottle, so I'd say success!!

Will is a pee machine! He pees through his clothes at least 3 times a day, which means he is really getting to wear all his newborn clothes! Yesterday he even peed on Matt's brother! And he poops while he's eating! Gotta love that predictability!

One of the toughest things is taking care of his poor little circumcision wound! When we first saw it, it made Matt "weak in the knees" and he could not bear to change his diaper! Now it is almost 100% completely healed! Too bad I ruined my favorite pair of pajamas with vaseline trying to get it on his thingy! Luckily, it is almost healed up now... whew!

Will can hold his head up! Pretty amazing! And he can switch it back and forth when he's on his stomach! Classic overachiever, just like his dad.

He has black hair growing on his back and side burns half way down his face... what a man!

Matt is absolutely the most wonderful guy ever! It is crazy how having a baby makes you love someone even more! I want to cry just thinking about him!

Speaking of crying, if I think too hard about my new little family, I get all choked up. I don't know what I ever did in my life to deserve such blessings. God is truly merciful because I did not earn all of this on merit! I just can't stop thinking Him for everything he has given me!

1/2 of everyone say that Will looks like Ollie (who looks just like Matt), the other 1/2 say he looks like a Culver. But I think he looks like himself. His skin is so dark compared to me and Ollie (Matt's grandmother is Cherokee Indian), his hair is dark, he is very tall, and I think his eyes are going to be blue... tall, dark, and handsome with blue eyes-- ooh la la!!

He is sleeping so good at night! Eating every 4 hours so I am getting 5-6 hours of sleep every night!! Lucky me!!

Well, that's all for now... hope to update again next week!!

Thank You

I know so many of my mom friends know that child rearing is truly a labor of love in which we will more than likely not receive the "thank yous" that we would love to hear until our children are grown. But to hear "thank you" is not why we decided to have children. I had such a special little moment with Ollie this morning that I just had to share. I hope it will encourage my friends with little babies who can't really talk yet to keep the course...

Ollie woke me up this morning around 4:30 from a dead sleep yelling "Mommy, please come!" I ran into her room to find that (for the millionth time) she had wet through her diaper, PJ's, and onto her bed. I gave her a little sponge bath, changed her clothes, then her sheets, tucked her in, and got her some milk to help her go back to sleep. Before I left the room she called out "Mommy, thank you so much." I can't even explain how much that meant to me. It made me want to burst into tears. I struggle to sleep all night as it is, the last thing I want to do is wake up to clean up pee. But as a mom, you don't think. You just do it. That's just what you do. To hear a two and a half year old be sincerely thankful for you just doing your "duty" is truly heartwarming. It makes those other 999,999 nights that I have gotten up during the night so much more worth it. :)

Most embarrassing moment EVER!

There are many gross things about pregnancy and most of them are kept private (until you get to the delivery room, of course) but sometimes, things just happen in public. And at least this time, I have pregnancy to blame it on. But it still doesn't make it any less mortifying!

Ollie and I were at Old Navy this morning looking at dresses. They were having a huge sale, and the place was full of people. Out of no where I had to sneeze. No biggie, right? Well, sneeze #1 was OK, sneeze #2 also produced a giant, trombone-ish fart (it gets worse), and sneeze #3 was enough to break the levee. I peed all over myself. And not just a little bit, but I had 3 glasses of tea at breakfast plus more water after that with no bathroom stops! I was wearing jeans so the denim turned dark blue from my crotch all the way down past my knees! To make it even worse, Ollie saw it and realized what was going on and started saying "Mommy, do you need to sit on the potty? Mommy is all wet. Mommy needs to change her diaper. Mommy needs to put on dry panties." Of all places, I was in the maternity section and there just happened to be another pregnant chick beside me. We both were laughing so hard, she said that she was going to pee in her pants too! (Luckily she didn't) So I threw down what I was going to buy, grabbed Ollie out of the buggie, and ran out the door- somehow still laughing, with Ollie still talking about how mommy peed on herself. Oh my goodness. So much for Kegel exercises! If it is this bad at 23 weeks, what am I going to be like at 33 weeks?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Some thoughts on having a boy

-I am absolutely terrified of changing a boy diaper! I baby sat my cousin's newborn son one time and EVERY time I changed his diaper, he peed so bad, I couldn't contain it, and  I had to change his clothes!

-I am also freaked out about the whole circumcision thing. Not really the procedure itself, but taking care of it until after it heals. I heard you're not supposed to use baby wipes on "it". And something is supposed to fall off?!?! WHAT?!?!

- I used to not like boy clothes but I guess I just didn't know what I liked. But now I do: I DO NOT like anything with teddy bears, "cutsie sayings" like "Daddy's little man" or "Mommy's big boy" (barf!), and I DESPISE anything resembling a jumper or shortalls or whatever they call them, and also anything remotely feminine looking. I pretty much just like grown men's clothing but shrunk into baby sizes.

- I REALLY want William to love sports like Matt and I do. Even Ollie seems to really like them too. It would be so great to go to a high school football game and cheer on my own son! But if he doesn't, that's perfectly fine too. The world needs lots of scientists, writers, musicians, and artists too. Not everyone can be a big jock.

- That being said, I do want him to be in a sport regardless of what it is. I think it is especially important for boys to have the structure and discipline of a sports team and the ability to productively get all the energy out. And if he plays in high school or college, there is a grade and conduct requirement, which is an even bigger bonus. I guess I just feel really strongly about playing sports in general.

- I will tell Will, as I tell Ollie already, that I want him to take risks, but be accountable. I don't want him to live in constant fear of failure or punishment. (I'm sure this one will come back and bite me in the butt with many trips to the ER over the years) But I want them to go out on a limb and take a challenge head on. Those are the movers and shakers of the world.

- I hope he will be even 1/2 as forward thinking as Matt. I think Matt was a wild child but he had the foresight to prepare for his future very young. Which in-turn has made him a brilliant business man, scholar, and provider. He was offered full scholarships to college to play football but turned them down. He had the wisdom to see computers and the internet and the impact they were going to have on society, and got into that industry before it became popular. He traded a "fun time," for seriously preparing himself for the future. (FYI in college, he was the first webmaster at KSU. He actually had to teach the teachers what the internet was and why it was going to be so important. How funny!) He bought his first house at age 21 and started saving for retirement even before that. He is very smart with his money and his passion for responsible personal finance is contagious. I know Matt will teach these lessons to Will, I just hope he really listens.

- At first we wanted to name the baby Solomon. Then Orion. Then Greer. But I'm really glad we went with William. I have heard so many off-the-wall baby names lately, that I feel like William is a breath of fresh air. It may be historically the 2nd most popular name in the entire world (the first is Muhammad-- and the variations of it) but it is still special to me. My mom's dad is named William Eli Wood and he is one of my favorite people in the whole wide world. And I hope Will loves the Lord like my Paw Paw does.

-I have the feeling that he is going to be one of those boys who will eat us out of house and home. If my current appetite is any indication, I know he will! I am completely ravenous, yet I don't gain weight. If that is true, I hope he is a "human garbage disposal" and will eat anything I put in front of him. One picky eater (well, 2 if you include Matt) is quite enough for me!

That's all for now. More to come...

Matt is the youngest of 3 boys. This is him (snaggle-toothed  #12) and his next oldest brother, Mark. His oldest brother, Michael, was their coach-- how cute! (but I can't seem to find the photo of the 3 of them)

My secret to being a good mom

This will be my 3rd year celebrating Mother's Day while being a mom! My first Mother's Day was during a very exciting time in my life. Ollie was almost 4 months old, Matt had just taken a new job, and we were looking for a  house! Matt totally surprised me that first Mother's Day with something I have wanted for a looooong time: a real locket! It is silver and oval with little flowers and a bird etched into it-- some of my favorite things. I love it more than any other piece of jewelry I own, even my wedding ring! I think it is because Matt at some point heard me say I wanted one, and got it for me completely by surprise (which is rare since we usually always go shopping together for gifts) Instead of putting Ollie's photo in it, as would be appropriate, I want to put a photo of Matt in it. And here is why...

I hate to sound like a parenting book, but I truly believe it is a major key to successful parenting is a healthy marriage with lots of love and respect between mom and dad. I am so lucky that Matt believes the same thing. He is very busy with work and traveling a lot, but he always takes time out to spend time with me, no matter what. We rarely get to go on "date nights" but we do spend time sitting on the porch talking and walking around the yard after Ollie has gone to sleep. Sometimes it is just walking to the mailbox together. Our special time sometimes even has to come at the expense of spending time with our families. But our relationship is far more important than anyone else on the earth. Without taking care of each other, we can not take care of everything else and everyone else in our lives. We have made each other a priority. We CHOSE to love each other. It is a decision we made before we got married. And if we ever feel like we are "falling out of love" then we would go to whatever means necessary to make it right. No matter what we would have to do, money to spend, things to change, people to cut-off, distance to travel, things to give up, nothing, nothing, nothing is going to ever come in between us. No matter how painful or difficult it may be, we will never give up on love.

On our wedding day, I remember thinking that I could never love Matt more than I did that day, but I was wrong! I truly love him more and more every day. We have had some hard times, especially our first year of marriage, but I wouldn't trade that time for anything. We were able to really lean on each other, find joy in each other, keep each other laughing (which is another thing I think is VERY important too), and in the end, we came out of the other side of the tunnel even closer and more in love than before.

And I truly believe that Ollie notices all of this. She loves to see us hug each other. And loves nothing more than for all of us to lay on the floor and just be together. She laughs at us when we are being silly, and laughs with us too, even though she has no clue what we are saying. (I'm sure we are going to be "embarrassing parents" when she gets older) And she really loves when we hold her and all three of us are really close together. She says "my family." It is so sweet!

(That being said, I don't know how single parents do it. Not just the day-to-day logistics of life, but also the lack of companionship with a spouse. I'm not saying that single parents are not the best parents because they are not married. I really think single parents are extremely strong to be able to compensate for the love of both parents, while still taking care of their own needs. It must be taxing in every sense of the word! I have so much respect for them and in no way think they are less than married parents. I just have no clue how they do it!)

Now I have to admit, 2 years after receiving my locket, I STILL don't have a picture of Matt in it! I know, I'm terrible! But have you ever tried to find a photo that tiny?! I do have a picture of Matt swimming out in the ocean, where he is just a little speck in the distance. I think that might be the only one so far that will do, even though all you can see is his head!  My goal is to have a photo of him in there before Mother's Day 2012!

My two loves at the place we love the most: the beach!

I think this one might work!

Breast feeding is not for the weary!

Here is my terrible, horrible, rather graphic account of my short, yet epic battle with breast feeding. Precede with caution!

Shortly after Ollie came into the world, I began what I thought was going to be the easy task of feeding my baby. It went well for all of about 10 minutes until things took a turn for the worse and went downhill! . I think she was eager enough but I just don't have the most... ahem... how do I put it... to reference Seth in the movie Superbad: My nipples just aren't like baby toes... if you catch my drift (Oh my gosh, did I really just type that?!). Ollie just couldn't latch on well due to not so "prominent" nipples. So I pumped with the pump the hospital provided (which I liken to modern-day milk dairy machinery). After I had a breast reduction at age 16, I was told I would not be able to breast feed due to severed milk ducts. They were wrong! I had milk, and lots of it!

So then began my daily dates with the lactation consultants at Kennestone who tried so may things- squeezing, kneading, pinching, squishing, rolling with a rolling pin (ok, not really) but nothing worked well. (All this while I had a steady stream of visitors!) They weighed Ollie before and after each feeding but she would still only get a very small amount of milk. So I continued to try with Ollie, and pumped between feedings. So I pretty much did nothing but express milk in some way, shape, or form for 48 hours straight. I took the hospital's dairy pump home with me and kept the same routine at home. Spending SO much time trying to get Ollie to latch on, pump in between, on top of the other things: sleep deprivation, post-partum depression, visitors, oh yeah- I have to take care of myself too. It was completely exhausting. But I was so determined to breast feed.

Then I made the mistake of consulting La Leche League. Those women I spoke with made me feel like I would be a complete failure and bad mother if I did not give my child breast milk. When I told one of them that I was having to supplement with formula, I heard an audible gasp through the phone. It only made me even more determined to "be a good mom" and make sure Ollie got breast milk.

One night Ollie and I were having a marathon of a feeding session. I spent an hour and a half trying to feed her. She was crying out of frustration. I was crying out of frustration . Matt came in to check on us and noticed that Ollie had clawed a hole in my skin under my nipple because she was "fighting" so hard. I hadn't even noticed. I was too busy being stupid: "I'm a bad mom because I can't breast feed my child properly! She is going to have development problems, health problems, ADD, immune system problems, etc. etc.!" So I finally resolved to pump exclusively. I had plenty of milk, it just needed to get out! That took a huge strain off both Ollie and I. Plus other people were able to feed Ollie!

One night when Ollie was about a week old, one of my mom's friends came to visit and really talked sense into me about the whole situation. (Thank you Anne Smith, if you read this!) We talked about how when I was little, formula was the thing to do. Just about everyone was fed that way. She also told me about her daughter who struggled with breast feeding her baby and made the decision to stop. The one thing she said that struck a bell was: "Ollie will still grow and be healthy, no matter what you feed her." And she's absolutely right! I was so stupid to let idealistic breast feeding fanatics make me feel inferior because I had to feed my baby formula!

 It was all going well until I started to get a fever and noticed the huge hole Ollie made in my boob was starting to look purple despite my at-home first aid. I went to the OB/GYN and they told me the wound was infected. I tried to be careful with where I placed the pump's cup things but I was re-opening the wound every time I pumped. (gross, I know. But I warned you!) The doctor told me I would have to stop pumping, which meant to stop breast feeding altogether. My mom and I stopped by Publix for formula and cabbage on the way home. I had one last good cry, and resolved to be done with all of the heartache. Then I put the cold cabbage leaves in my bra and let my milk dry up.

So that was my battle with breastfeeding. Looking back, I would have done things a lot differently, so that's what I plan on doing the 2nd time around! I may be a crazy person, but I am going to try again. Luckily, this time, I have a friend from middle and high school, who I have reconnected with on Facebook, who is a lactation consultant. She has generously offered to give me a private breast feeding class during my last trimester and will make home visits after the baby comes! She also told me that usually things are easier the second time around-- Praise the Lord. Also, if there are any "latch on" problems, etc. I will immediately resolve to exclusively pump. And if that doesn't work, I will have absolutely no inhibitions to give him or her formula. I will do it with a smile, actually.

I have to say a big thank you to Matt, and my poor Mom and Dad who had to live with my during this time. My dad knows more about lactating now than he ever needed or wanted to know! But they were all so patient with me and supportive. Mom must have made 50 trips to Babies-R-Us for different size nipple shields, pump tubing, nipple cream, etc. And my Dad was so empathetic. He would bring me ice packs and even offered to wash the pump parts and bottles after I pumped in the middle of the night so I could go back to sleep sooner. How sweet! (But I didn't let him do it. The thought of my Dad having to touch my breast milk absolutely mortifies me!) And of course, my always wonderful husband Matt who encouraged me to follow my motherly instinct and supported every decision I made. It sometimes take a village to feed a baby.

These are the ONLY photos we have of Ollie being fed! Probably because 99% of the time I am the one taking photos, and I was doing most of the feedings because Matt was in school. Oh well, they are still pretty cute!

yum yum!

Still not the cleanest eater!

Matt and his Dad feeding Ollie during our walk on the Silver Comet Trail.

Ollie's Birth Story

     In thinking about having to give birth again, I can not help but think about Ollie's birth. Then I realized that I never really wrote down all I wanted about her birth! Luckily, I wrote some notes on things I didn't want to forget while we were still in the hospital. Plus, I have a really good long-term memory and I still remember everything so vividly....

     I was due on Saturday January 17, 2009. The week prior (Jan. 12-17) was Matt's "immersion week"/ first week of classes for his Executive MBA program at Emory and attendance was mandatory. So that whole week, I sat on the couch reading a book trying not to make any sudden movements that would make me go into labor. Like I wouldn't even drink water so that I had to get up and go to the bathroom. I really did not need to go into labor. He COULD NOT afford to miss anything that week! Luckily, I wasn't having real contractions or anything... just Braxton-Hicks. I thought that if anything, I was going to surly go past my due date. But I was wrong.

     I went to bed Wednesday night at around 11:30pm. Matt was doing school work and did go to sleep until around 12:30am. I woke up around 1:30am with what I thought were "poop pains." So I went to the bathroom but nothing happened. And the pains stopped and didn't return so I got back in the bed. As I was laying down, I felt the unmistakable "woosh" of my water breaking! I woke Matt up and he immediately got in the computer and emailed his teachers letting them know he would not be in class the next day, while I ran around trying to find something absorbent to put in my pants to catch the "water." At the time we lived with my parents so I woke my parents up to tell them it was time. My dad (in all seriousness, I don't know if he was just sleepy or what) said "I have some Sham-Wows you could use." REALLY?!?! I'm sure that would be great on their info-mercial! I literally just shoved a BIG bath towel in my pants and off we went in my spankin' new minivan feeling very much parental-like already!

     In my child birth classes they told us that I would not be able to eat until after the baby comes, in case I have to have a C-section so we knew I needed to eat before getting to the hospital. So where do you go at 2:00 in the morning? (no, not Waffle House)  McDonalds! As I was picking my Chicken McNugget Happy Meal from the drive thru window, the lady, who could see my huge belly, said "How sweet, your husband is taking you for a late night craving." And I said "Actually, I'm in labor and we're on our way to the hospital." She started running back to get our food and I guess told the other McDonalds workers who all came to the window and wished us luck and waved and cheered when we drive off. That little old lady was bawling. It was so sweet!

    We arrived at Kennestone and yes, I sat in the car and put on makeup. I didn't want to look like a frump when my baby saw me! Up until this point I had no pain, but by the time we made the walk from the parking lot to the labor and delivery unit, I was starting to have regular contractions. When we got there, all the triage rooms were full so they put me in the waiting room with the families of the other women having babies (with a HUGE full towel in my pants, mind you) where I was overhearing a horror story of a girl in labor and the baby was stuck in the birth canal! Thanks a lot, Kennestone. When they had a spot in triage, they had to stick me 4 times to get blood and not just that, but the idiot girl was "digging around" in my arm with the needle! I told her she had better go get someone who can get my blood or I was going to cause a major scene so she called in the midwife who got it on the first try.

     4:00am- They moved me into a room and the contractions started to get very intense. By that time, my mom (dad was sick and couldn't come), Matt's parents, and my brother had arrived. If you don't know my brother, you should know that he is one of the funniest people you will ever meet, and he had just gotten the "iFart app" on his iphone. He had us all in side-splitting laughter in no time. Then I had to kick him out because the laughter was making the contractions worse. After that, time was a blur. Contraction after contraction, pain, pain, pain, pain like I had never felt in my life! Around 8:30am they gave me a narcotic which didn't take the pain away, but just make me "not care" about it. (I really hate to admit this, but I can totally understand how people get addicted to narcotics. It was so relaxing and if you had "nothing to live for" the narcotic would be a welcomed escape.) But it wore off in 30 mins or so and the pain was so bad I started shaking uncontrollably. At 10:30am I asked for and epidural which was not nearly as bad as I anticipated. The initial numbing needle was pretty painful but by the time I counted to 30, the whole procedure was over and I was almost completely pain-free. I got to sleep for 2 hours until the doctor checked me and I was 9cm dilated.

     I was SO fortunate to have a midwife from Nigeria as my nurse, who had delivered over 1,000 babies in Africa before coming to the U.S. I can not, for the life of me, remember her name. It was a native name and very long. My doctor later told me that 99% of that woman's patients had successful vaginal deliveries, only 1% had to have C-sections. She began to work with me, doing little pushes, lots of massages, and I don't know what else to help ease the baby along. She worked with me for over 2 hours until the doctor came in and I was ready to "formally" push. I allowed 3 nursing students in the room to observe and let me tell you, 2 of the 3 looked like they were going to pass out and/or be sick! First push- easy. Second push- head came out. Third push- Ollie was born! They put her on my belly and the first thing I said was "Oh my gosh! It's a human!" It didn't hit me until that moment that it was a PERSON inside me. I felt her warm body and could feel her heart beating through her chest and it was absolutely mind-blowing that I had a human in my belly, with organs, limbs and a soul! The second thing I said was "She looks just like Noah!" And she did! She had Noah's signature "turtle look" but also looked just like Matt with the round head and face and blue eyes. They took her go get cleaned up while I took care of the placenta and what-not but soon started freaking out because the doctor could not get me to stop bleeding. All I could think about was women in the books I read who die after childbirth from loss of blood. After lots of painful massaging and who knows what else, it finally stopped and I got all stitched up. Luckily, due to the midwife's handiwork, I had very minimal tearing!

     After the nurses got me and the baby all cleaned up, everyone left. There was the hustle and bustle of 10 people in the room, then no one but me, Matt, and Ollie. It wasn't until then that Matt and I both started crying. Ollie, on the other hand, just stared at us as quiet as can be. The family started to trickle in and see us, then came the reality that I needed to somehow feed the child, so I began my long battle with breast feeding (different story for a different day). That night in the hospital was crazy. Ollie's body temp. had dropped so she had to sleep with me and we both woke up many times both drenched in sweat! But she never cried or anything! She was so quiet and content. The next morning, Matt had to wake up at 5:00 to go to school! Bleh! My mom came to be with me and I got more visitors, which was incredible exhausting when all I wanted to do was sleep! But I was content, enjoying hospital food (yes, I actually liked it! Especially the jell-o desserts) and having lactation consultants to help teach me how to breast feed. We were doing pretty great until "the cloud" descended over me, in the form of post-partum depression when I started having terrible mood swings, uncontrollable crying for no reason, and rage at the pediatricians for not being able to see Ollie when we needed them to. Poor Matt, he was so kind and reassuring. I don't know what I would have done without his certainty and confidence that everything was going to be ok, we were going to be good parents, Ollie will always have everything she needs, and the post-partum craziness would pass (which did. It took a few weeks, but it did.)

     Taking Ollie home was the best day ever! It was snowing and I saw the world completely differently. I sat in the back seat and pointed things out to Ollie I would have never noticed before: birds flying in the wind, a frozen over pond, the chicken on the sign when we passed Zaxby's. I knew then that parenthood was going to be so fun! When we got home, Ollie got to meet my dad (who wore a surgical mask because he was still not feeling well) and we got visits from more family. It was so nice seeing how cute the cousins are around babies, and hearing stories about other family babies. It was such a special time. I wouldn't trade it for anything!

This time around, I hope to do a few things differently: I will be using a midwife. I would even like to hire the midwife from Kennestone, if she is still there. I am NOT delivering at Kennestone. I was completely unimpressed with so may aspects of the whole process- we will be at Northside. I would like to have visitors come to the house when we come home, instead of everyone crowding into the hospital room when I'm trying to breast feed, get a catheter taken out, etc. It was just exhausting. I will not hesitate to ask for medication if I experience post-partum depression again. Those first weeks would have been much more joyful if I had asked for help. I will not take as much stuff to the hospital-- they have so much there for the baby, I don't need to bring diapers, wipes, diaper cream, baby wash, etc. And I will be making my own hospital gown. I despise those ugly things they give you, with you butt all hanging out!

"She must have a really great personality."

One of my middle school friends had the best Facebook status not long ago. It went something like this: "I got out of the shower the other day and caught a glimpse of myself running naked by the mirror and I said to myself 'Wow, she must have a really great personality.'" That is how I feel pregnant. I will go ahead a let it be known that I am not one of those people who thinks pregnant women's bodies are so beautiful. Au contraire!

If anyone doesn't think there is a God, no need to examine the heavens for proof, just look at a pregnant woman's body. From the moment of conception, the body transforms on order to support and sustain that new life. From the expanding uterus (ouch!), to new blood vessels to get blood to the baby, to a weakened immune system so the body does not treat the baby as a sickness and reject it.... I could go on and on. Incredible? yes. Flattering? Not in the least.

This pregnancy, I have been completely shocked at how fast I have experienced pregnancy symptoms and how soon they have become visible on my body. When I was pregnant with Ollie, I remember thinking I was never going to have all those things the pregnancy books tell you to expect. My 2 notable symptoms were nausea, and and protruding belly button! I kid you not, my belly button was sticking out by the time I was 12 weeks! I didn't even look pregnant! I just looked like I had a freakish "outie." I literally wore a bandaid over it to keep it stuck in. Other than my belly getting bigger, I didn't have any other notable physical changes until I was in the 3rd trimester.

But now, I feel like I'm already in the 3rd trimester (ok, maybe I'm being a little dramatic, but I'm allowed to sometimes, right?). Most notable has been the gut wrenching nausea. It started around 5 1/2 weeks and has rarely given me a moment's respite. Luckily, I've only actually thrown up once, but I have spent entire days with a bucket in tote, "on the brink," wishing that I would, just get it out to maybe get some relief! Second, would be the that my skin looks like it has a map of Atlanta just underneath the surface. I swear you can see every single vein in my body! (Thank you Irish heritage) I even spotted a varicose vein on my middle toe! (Can you say "spray tan?")  Third, my leg hairs! I can shave in the morning and actually have a "5 o'clock shadow." Nice. Also, my belly protruding- I already have to wear maternity clothes to be comfortable. Plus, I never lost the little "pooch" at the bottom of my belly from being pregnant with Ollie. And that, sitting on top of my expanding uterus is SO not the cute baby bump I had during the first pregnancy. I hear that a lot of girls like the boob-age they get when pregnant, but I see this as a curse! They already hurt soooooooo bad! Like the pain keeps me up at night! Plus, the Lord already blessed me in the bosom region, so I could really do without the extra! Sigh... luckily Matt says he loves my maternity clothes, tells me how healthy my hair looks (which I have to agree, those hormones are good on the hair), and encourages me to keep exercising, among all the other wonderful things he does. He also goes out of his way to tell me that I look great-- when I'm wearing a over sized sweatshirt, no makeup, and haven't brushed my hair all day... what a man!

I may not be the Athena I once was (there I go, being dramatic again), but luckily it is not forever. We have already set aside money for a personal trainer so I can get back to normal soon after the baby comes! Whatever "normal" may be at that point, but that's another post for another day...

Afterthought: The other morning as I was getting dressed I remembered when I was really big and pregnant with Ollie, and Matt would put my socks and shoes on me every single day, because it was so difficult to reach my feet... how sweet!

This is me on July 27th, 2008, the day I graduated from college-- about 16 weeks pregnant and just starting to show. I didn't want to be "the pregnant girl" at graduation so I wore a loose dress to hide the bump!

How to make a baby

People either think it is extremely easy, or extremely difficult to make a baby. I have come to learn that the answer is "both."

Matt and I were married on August 4th, 2007. Sometime in March 2008 I had a UTI and had to take antibiotics. I was completely ignorant to the fact that they affect birth control pills. Then on May 12th, 2008 (my last semester in college) I realized I had not had a period in a while, stopped to get a home pregnancy test on the way to class, took the test in the handicap stall of the bathroom at KSU's social science building, saw that it was positive, and started sobbing. THIS WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! I had to go to class since it was May-mester and we were not allowed to miss-- red eyes, snotty nose and all. After class, I went home to tell Matt and to my surprise, he was ecstatic! It made me feel even more guilty for being disappointed. That night he took me to Target and bought me a copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting," looked at baby clothes, got registry information but NOTHING made me feel better. I just knew this wasn't supposed to happen so soon. I wanted to graduate, work for a few years, enjoy being married at LEAST 4 years before I had a baby. But alas, God had other plans. 

Before Ollie was even a year old, I started thinking about having another baby. My brother and I are 16 months apart and I always loved it (except when he threw a pencil in my cheek, kicked me in the mouth when I had braces, and got dad's old Jeep as a first car). I had planned to have children close together and thought getting pregnant a second time would be as easy as the first. Boy was I wrong! 

I never took birth control after Ollie was born. I just thought we would "let nature take its course." But "the course never took." If you know what I mean. I went to my OB/GYN about it and he told me to give it another 6 months... sigh. After 6 months and no pregnancy I went back and he had me do an Hysterosalpingogram to flush the fallopian tubes. There is an increased likelihood of pregnancy after this procedure so I had to try yet another 3 months to get pregnant- with no success, before I finally went back and started taking fertility drugs. 

All those pills are enough to drive a sane person completely crazy! Cycle says 3-7 I had to take 6 estrogen pills, followed by 10 days of clomid (the "infamous" drug), then 10 days of progesterone twice a day (which makes you soooo nauseated)... bleeeeeeh! After 3 months my cycle was still not regulated (I ovulate extremely late in a short menstrual cycle) and I was beginning to come to terms with it all. I was the definition of "infertility." I went from being upset and angry, to being jealous of my pregnant friends who seemed to get pregnant on a whim, to having a complete peace about my future children, or lack thereof. I stopped praying to get pregnant and I once and for all told God that I was completely 100% fine with whatever his plans were for me no matter how heartbroken I felt. I started my 4th month of meds. and decided that if it did not work, I was going back to the doctor to discuss other options. 

  

Then I started getting weird cravings. I could not get enough salsa and black coffee (and I HATE black coffee). I was not expecting my period for more than I week but I decided to take a test anyways. (In the comfort of my own home this time). Sure enough, I saw the faintest little line. Like it was so faint that you had to look at it outside in natural light, out of the corner of you eye to see the line. Matt was skeptical so I took another test the next morning and it was a little pink line for sure! I called the doctor and they wanted to see me immediately so I went it for an exam and blood work, and sure enough-- I'm pregnant!!!

Honestly, I am extremely happy about the age gap my kids will have. If I had a new born or little baby in the midst of: Ollie's sleep issues, throwing everything phase, "mommy hold me" constantly, "I don't wanna poop potty," and most of all-- Ollie not walking until she was 18 months old... I would not be the laid-back mellow person that I am today. Ollie will be almost 3 when the new baby is born and I really wouldn't have it any other way. Imagine that!

This is me and Matt when I was about 4 months pregnant with Ollie. We had so many people at the lake that day, that this was the only life jacket left that would fit me!