"What about me?"

With his head cocked back and his little hands reaching over my growing bump, Blake asked me that question. From the living room Evan yelled, "We're going to be hearing that a lot more once the baby gets here!"

Time froze. And just like you see in the movies, Blake's question, "What about me?" echoed in my mind several times.

What will happen to Blake once this new baby arrives? How wonderful it would be if we walk in our front door and Blake embraces this baby with open arms and never looks back. But let's be realistic:

Blake has had all of our attention for 2 and a half years. My whole life revolves around Blake. His schedule is my schedule. But that's going to change rather abruptly come Thanksgiving. And how do you explain that to a 2 and a half year old?

I think what I fear most is that Blake will feel less loved as a result of this new baby. That he'll retreat to his room one day wondering, "Why doesn't Mom love me anymore?" Maybe his thought processes aren't that advanced. Still, his "What about me?" question was enough to make me cry as I walked home from the grocery store on Saturday. (Well that, and being an incredibly emotional pregnant woman).

And while it will be a difficult transition for all of us once this yet-to-be named baby boy arrives, I do truly believe Blake will benefit from having a sibling. I love my siblings and can't imagine what life would be like without them. And the home videos my parents have of my siblings and me wouldn't be nearly as hilarious if it was just me in them.

Obviously there's no turning back. This baby is coming. Blake will be a big brother. We will be parents of 2 children very soon. And if the stack of parenting books on my night stand is any indication of my perceived lack of parenting skills, there's a good chance Blake is going to feel lost in the shuffle of all this baby stuff. But hopefully everything will work itself out and Blake and baby #2 will be best buds before we know it.

Or at least they won't kill each other.

Rubber Ducky, you're the one

Well, you were the one until you got all moldy inside and had to be thrown away.

Now dinosaurs are Blake's go-to bath toy. And by the looks of it, it'll be that way for a while.

Raaaaaaaar!!!!

My Kid is Cute

He hailed a cab. Just waiting for the driver.

You talkin' to me?

Aaaaaand this is the closest you'll get to having a puppy.

You Say It's Your Birthday...

it's my birthday too, yeah!

Ok so it actually isn't my birthday. But we did celebrate Evan's birthday on Monday! The fun started with a few birthday donuts for breakfast, a little shoe shopping sans Blakey, a delicious dinner of copycat Chick-fil-A sandwiches, and some cake and ice cream!

Blake was in charge of decorating the cupcakes, and he now possesses enough self control to do that without taking a taste first. Although he did ask, "I eat it?" about 100 times during the whole process.

All in all, I think Evan had a great birthday. When I asked him what his favorite part was he said it was when Blake sang "Happy Birthday" to him when he woke up, totally unprompted.

Happy birthday, Evan! We love you!

Mistakes

Not many people know this, but I kind of pride myself on being somewhat of a handyman. Or handywoman. Growing up with a father who is essentially a grown up boy scout and the type of guy you want with you if you happen to be stranded on a desert island and with a mother who instilled in me the fact that I could do absolutely anything I wanted, I was destined to become pretty awesome.

Now, I'm not talking major fix-it jobs. But I know my way around a tool box pretty well. And I'll be honest, stores like Lowes and Home Depot kind of feel like home to me. So when I purchased some furniture for Blake's room I was up to the task of putting it together...all by my 32-weeks-pregnant self.

I knew it probably wasn't smart to take on the job of constructing a dresser on my own when I'm 8 months pregnant. I knew there was going to be a lot of bending and some light lifting. But that's not really where my mistakes started.

First off, the fact that I even entertained the idea of doing something that would require all of my attention, small parts, and eventually power tools when I have a 2 1/2 year old running around was just silly. Especially since my 2 year old probably asked, "What happened, Mom?" about 5,000 times during the course of construction.

Second, when the directions that come with your Ikea dresser say (or rather show, since they only use pictures in their instruction manuals) that the construction of this product is a 2 man (or woman) job, trust them.

Third, Ikea may be right when it comes to the number of people it will take to put together your product, but they might not be 100% correct in how to assemble said product. This is where the ability to picture all of the parts coming together to form the finished product is beneficial. (A skill I apparently didn't possess when putting this dresser together.) You see, I followed the directions, but when the directions are incorrect it's  going to lead to some disassembling and then reassembling. And then some drilling. And hammering. And the use of pliers. And then more drilling. And maybe a minor swear word. Maybe.

Fourth, pregnant Whitney = emotional Whitney. Emotional Whitney cries out of frustration.

Eventually I was able to put the most of the dresser together. I left the construction of the drawers for Evan to do because Netflix can only keep Blake entertained for so long.

So, lessons learned: I am pretty awesome with power tools. I am incredibly emotional when pregnant. Following instructions only helps when they aren't wrong.

Horseback Rides: 50 cents

Ride ends. "Come on, horse!"

Pumpkin Carving in the City

One of my most favorite memories of fall is carving pumpkins for Halloween. Deciding what type of scary face I'm going to give my jack-o-lantern, carving it, sticking a candle in the pumpkin, and then realizing it doesn't look nearly as good as I thought it was going to. Great memories!

For some reason, though, I never remember the preparing of the pumpkin to carve until I actually start the process. Then I remember that it's kind of disgusting and by the time all the pumpkin guts are cleaned out I'm not really interested in having anything to do with a pumpkin for the rest of my life.

Up until this year I've had a hard time finding a place within walking distance that sold pumpkins. But Evan came back from the store one night and told me they had some small-ish ones for way too much money in case I was interested. Luckily I had already devised a plan for a guts-free-pumpkin-carving Halloween this year.

The first thing I do when I go to Target is look at their dollar section. I generally load up on a few things that I don't need and then end up putting most of it back before I get to my actual shopping list. But, I saw a Styrofoam pumpkin and thought it would be cute to put outside our door. I talked myself out of it until I found this:

And in the dollar section of the Atlantic Terminal Target I had an epiphany: this year we will carve a pumpkin...city style! Well, city/mom is 8 months pregnant/Blake is going to lose interest in carving a pumpkin in 2.34 minutes/we don't have a porch to display this pumpkin style. So I grabbed the Styrofoam pumpkin I had put back and I had myself a nice little craft project for Blake. No pumpkin guts required!

We ventured outside one morning to "carve" our pumpkin. Blake decorated and I snapped a few pictures. I was all set to display it outside our front door when Blake decided he wanted to carry the pumpkin around for the rest of the day. And put it in his room. And rearrange all the felt pieces.

Wait. We're just going to stick it outside our front door?

I tried putting the pumpkin outside our door after Blake went to bed, but the next morning he saw it on our way outside and couldn't resist bringing it in. I let him pick out one of those tiny decorative pumpkins at the store hoping to draw his attention away from the fake pumpkin. Now he's enamored with both.

I like both of the little pumpkins that I keep finding in random places in our apartment. And while I kind of miss roasting pumpkin seeds to snack on, I certainly didn't miss touching the insides of a pumpkin this year.