Second Trimester!!

Things are picking up pace in the Proebsting household! After a whirlwind Christmas weekend, we came home and unloaded presents, realizing 1) that we are in fact having a baby, and 2) that this baby is already spoiled. For someone not even born, he sure got a ton of presents!! But mom and dad are thankful, after all, that's less we have to buy!

As if I wasn't aware before (and I was), I now know without a shadow of a doubt that we are having a baby. It's a little hard to believe before you can hear anything, feel anything, and clothes still fit. BUT, in only the last few days this baby has made sure we know he is alive and well. It all started last Wednesday. You all saw the picture... hello, baby bump. I had one before, or at least thought I did. My pants were difficult to button, and I was aware of my growing belly. However, the belly in that picture arrived over night. I'm not really sure where it came from either. But I remember waking up, looking in the mirror, and literally saying in my head... woah. I figured I was half asleep still, or seeing things, so I went about my day. But when I got home, Kyle actually noticed it. I don't remember his exact words, but it was something to the affect of... "woah, I guess you're really pregnant." And thus, we had to take a picture to mark the momentous day. Ever since then I have felt like I'm carrying around an extra load, which makes me really nervous for June and July. That was Wednesday. Move forward to Sunday morning, about 5:30am. I did not sleep Saturday night, nothing new. So I was laying in bed day dreaming about the future, and I put my hand on my belly, mainly just because it's already a habit of mine. BUT, I felt something! Something hard. And if I wasn't pregnant, I would have thought it was a tumor. So naturally, I started poking it. Ha, poor baby. Thinking to myself, "is this what, who I think it is?!" I felt all around my stomach to see if it was all hard... it wasn't. Everything else was the normal squishy belly I'm used to, except for this one precious little spot right under my belly button. I'm pretty sure I was visibly glowing. I just kept poking it, and smiling. Then, at 5 minutes til 6 I woke Kyle up, took his hand, and said, "feel this!" Poor guy, he was half asleep. He felt it, made some kind of noise, and rolled back over. Ugh, at least I know in my heart he loves it. I lied in bed forever, not wanting to get up, because I knew that once I did he would move and I would have to wait for him to resurface. But alas, the need to go to the bathroom got the best of me. Rats. That was Sunday. Fast forward to today, about noon. I'm at the doctors office. She says, "are you ready to hear something?" Duh. So I'm laying there, bracing myself for her to roll the thing all over my stomach trying to find the heartbeat. Well, all she had to do was touch it to my belly... thud thud thud thud thud. (Sorry, that's the best I can describe it with words). I thought for a split second, that's just my heartbeat. Ha, I was clearly delusional. Quickly, and thank God, she snapped me out of that thought with a, "there it is." And there it was. So fast! And so strong! 165 beats a minute. I could have listened to that all day. I should have asked her if I could keep the doppler, but I chickened out. Bummer.

So there it is. We're having a baby. A real one, with a heartbeat and everything. I'm on cloud nine.

So with that heartbeat, I begin my SECOND trimester! I believe time is actually flying. So here are some updates:

Sickness: still there. In fact, I threw up all night. When I was at the doctor today, I weighed in at one pound less than my pre pregnancy weight. She was a little concerned about this, and gave me a prescription to try and help. We'll see. I'm not holding my breath. But the good news is, I now have permission to eat large quantities of food whenever I want!

Cravings: canned peaches, wings, chili, waffles, and now thanks to going home for Christmas, cinnamon raisin english muffins.

Aversions: Subway (which I may never eat again), and peanut butter.

Biggest bummer: I can no longer button OR zip my jeans.

Biggest excitement: Going into what will be his nursery and watching the collection of baby things grow.

Most anxious for: February 15th! The day we find out if it's a Jack or a Leah!! And I will say it again, I do not care what it is. Stop telling me it's one or the other though, you don't know.

Biggest challenge: staying awake past 8. That will be put to the test this weekend, wish me luck!

Most emotional: Putting my hand on the hard lump in my belly, and never wanting to take it off.

Most dreading: Waddling around in the hot summer month of June.

Goal for this trimester: 1) stop being sick 2) start exercising again

That about wraps it up. See you next week. Have a happy and safe New Year! Don't drink and drive, there will be pregnant people like me on the roads...

There is no light.

Remember that light I thought I saw a couple days ago? The one that I got excited about. The one I thought meant I was turning a corner. Well, it disappeared. Shortly after I wrote that blog it dimmed and dimmed, and now it's completely gone.

This week has been one for the record books as far as sickness goes. It's back to all day, every day with no breaks. I don't know if anyone else out there has been sick 24/7, but it gets really, really tiring. The days are bad, but the nights are worse. I can't make any plans to leave my house at night, and if something sounds good to eat at 1 o'clock, I can count on the fact that by the time 5 rolls around it will sound like the worst idea I've ever had.

I knew I shouldn't have gotten so excited about feeling better. I totally jinxed myself.

Kyle and I got Subway one night this week. I decided to try it again for God knows what reason. Long story short, I got halfway through it and threw up so hard I popped the blood vessels under my eyes. Neat. I won't be eating Subway again until this baby comes out. Maybe never again, who knows.

They say sickness means the baby is healthy. Well, I'm going to have the healthiest child in the world. It's funny though, I'm miserable and upset most of the time, yet somehow I am still so excited!  I cannot wait to meet this little thing that is causing so much trouble. I can't wait to see what he or she looks like. I can't wait to hold him, and even wake up in the middle of the night with him. What have I got to lose, right? I don't sleep anymore anyways.

I don't complain all the time, I promise. Just on here... because I can say whatever I want. And I want you all to feel sorry for me, ha. Don't think for a second I don't want to be pregnant though, or that I'm not enjoying all the other stuff that goes along with it - because believe me, I am. I wouldn't have it any other way. And knowing me, if I wasn't sick I'd be worried, and I think I'd rather have the sickness than the fear. 

In just a week and two days I will be out of the first trimester! That means the sickness is gone, right? Right?! That's what they tell me, and they better be right.

In other news... Hooray for Christmas!! I am SO excited for this season, sick or not - it truly is the best time of year. We will go to Poplar Bluff on Thursday morning. I'm so ready to see my parents, and dogs! My mom makes these magical little cookies called Rum Balls, and of course that was one of the first questions I asked my doctor. She told me as long as I just had a couple it should be fine - so I will be helping myself to a few and trying not to feel guilty! The baby will need a little buzz anyways if he's going to be a part of the Rossi family Christmases for a while. That's just how it goes. We also order pizza from NY every year and have it shipped - and that has got to be the BEST tradition! My mouth is watering just thinking about it. I even googled it to show Kyle just what he was in for, I can't wait to share it with him! Yum!! Besides food, I can't wait to spend time with Zoey on Christmas. Last year she was just 5 months old, so she couldn't do a whole lot. This year I am ready to watch her open presents, and grunt and point all day! And then of course there will be the watching of Christmas Vacation. A classic. Normally, my mom makes her own special version of egg nog and we all choke it down as it burns our throats and makes our eyes water, and the movie gets funnier and funnier the more glasses we have. However, this year since half of us are pregnant mom informed us she will not be making it. Darn. But I'm sure the movie will be just as good. We'll have to go to wal-mart at least 10 times with my dad, his favorite store in town. There will be a puzzle my brother in law brings that we all have to put together in a day, and me waking everyone up at 6am to open presents. Get over it, Lauren - it's still happening.  All in all... I am stoked.

There will be lots of pictures to come!
If I don't get around to writing the 12 week blog, don't worry, I'm sure nothing will change in two days and I will still be sick... so Merry Christmas!!

I can see a light!

Well folks, things may indeed be looking up. As I go into week 11, I have begun to notice some of the sickness disappear. Not completely, however, it has lessened quite a bit. For instance, instead of being sick all day I am now mainly only sick at night (with of course a few waves during the day). I have a bit of an appetite now, and it's getting less scary to eat. I'm no longer sick (for the most part) when I first wake up, nor do I wake up sick in the middle of the night. Both of those things are probably the most welcome. Waking up from a sound sleep sick was the pits. And it's much easier to start a day when the idea of moving is much more in my grasp. I just hope it's not all some sort of a tease, and that maybe I really am turning a corner!

Last night I was made all too aware of my longest lasting symptom, and one I don't even think I've talked about since it has mainly been overshadowed by the sickness, and that is.... the inability to sleep. For those of you that know me, you know I love to sleep. I love to go to bed. I can sleep anywhere. I am not, nor have I ever wanted to be a night owl. I love thinking about going to bed. However, I think I am growing a child that hates to sleep. I'm sure it could have nothing to do with him - but for now, he's getting the blame. I don't think I've slept a full night since I've been pregnant. Even before I knew I was pregnant, I realized I wasn't getting the normal blissful sleep I am so used to. I'm at a loss as to what it is. In the very beginning I was trying to be good and reading my book that told me to sleep on my left side because that's best for the baby. So I tried it. Let me mention here that I am and have always been a stomach sleeper. The sides just don't do it for me. And I learned quickly that the left side really doesn't do it for me. So for a while I chalked my constant waking up to me forcing myself to sleep uncomfortably on my left side. So I gave that up, and went back to sleeping on my stomach. Gasp! I feel a little like a bad mom, and really just hope he doesn't come out smooshed. When I went back to stomach sleeping though, I really started getting into the serious sickness. And I woke up every 30 minutes sick. And that became the new reason for my lack of sleep. So now that for the most part has worn off, and I'm still waking up! Only now, I just wake up. And lay there. Completely awake. Ugh.

I'm going to insert a "Kyle's dreams" side note here:

So if I have to be awake, I am so happy I get to be awake and have live entertainment right beside me. Last night I was laying there (from the hours of 1-5am no less) and Kyle's dreams were in full force! He was loud, and obnoxious almost all night. Sadly, he really didn't carry out a complete dream - but I did catch an episode of his sleep walking! So he started mumble yelling in his sleep. And I layed there smiling and still to see where this would go. He sounded like he was in trouble, I was a little nervous for him. He was moving around a lot too, had the hands flailing in the air, and his legs kicking around the sheets. So then he sits up. Uh oh. I knew what was coming next. Except I didn't. Because next he grabbed his pillow and stuck it out in front of him like a shield, I laughed. Then he stood up! With his pillow still out in front of him. And he was mumbling but sounded really scared. So I got nervous, and for some reason got this idea in my head, "what if he hurts me?" He was definitely fighting something, and I didn't want him to turn on me, I didn't even know where he would go. So I had to put a stop to it. I yelled, KYLE! I couldn't tell if he woke up or not, but he immediately got back in bed and layed down... and then gripped my thigh. Hard. And said, "they're trying to get me." And I laughed, and said, I'm sorry. And he rolled back over. That was incident one. Incident two was when at 3am he started cracking up! LOUD! As if he had just seen the funniest thing in the world. He laughed for like 5 minutes straight. And I laughed along with him. And then it was over. I asked him this morning, and he remembers neither of those things.

Now back to the baby who hates to sleep. Well, this week his fingers and toes are officially un-webbed. Or at least I will hope they are. He is the size of a fig, and some of his bones have begun to harden. He can open and close his fists, his ears are almost the shape they should be, and he has open nasal passages! It's crazy to me how much happens in just a week.

He certainly consumes every one of my thoughts.

Double Digits!!

Tomorrow we will be 10 weeks. I really like the sound of that. Things no longer seem "early" although I know they still are. I'm starting to feel pregnant now. I am constantly aware of my growing belly, even though it's not huge yet, I have to use a little extra effort to get up from being snuggled in the couch, I can feel it protruding when I'm standing, and I feel it lop to the side when I lay down. There's definitely something going on in there.  I love reading about what the baby's doing at the beginning of each new week. For example this week, the little one will get 25,000 new neurons a minute! He is getting taste and tooth buds, by the end of the week his upper lip will be complete, and he is now the size of a plum!! That's certainly a long way from the apple seed he used to be. 

And now on to the most fun part, the symptoms. I'm still sick, however with a twist! I got ONE day of relief last Thursday. It was absolutely magical. Of course it made me worry something wasn't right, but I decided to take advantage of it and do some cleaning. And can I just say thank God I did... Thursday night and Friday were an absolute nightmare. By far my sickest day to date. I kept nothing down, and did not get off the couch from noon until 7pm except to throw up which was quite often. My mom came up though, and when she got here I magically felt a little better - the baby must have been happy to see grandma. I have added some foods to my "edible list" - fruit being the one I'm most proud of! Not fresh, there's still something about the fresh fruit that makes me gag... but I'm loving the canned fruit cocktail. And I sit down and eat until the entire can is gone. I had a banana today so that also made me feel good about myself. Yogurt is creeping back into my appetite, as well as cereal, pop tarts, and McDonalds chicken nuggets. Hey, I'll take what I can get. And who knows, maybe things are looking up!! One can only hope.

I've got some new symptoms as we go into this 10th week. Headaches. Oh, man. I've never really had headaches, so maybe I'm just not used to them -but they are no fun. They usually come on in the afternoon or evening, and very little I can do about them. I've also caught myself flipping out on Kyle for no real reason. Poor guy. No dinner, and now I yell at him all the time. And I also tear up frequently... for no reason. That's a fun one since crying makes me extremely uncomfortable.

Kyle's still wonderful in case anyone's wondering. I feel bad though, because he makes a lot of my mcdonalds nugget runs, all the while he is trying to eat healthy...

That's all for now, kind of an abrupt ending - but I'm sick...and tired... see you in week 11.

9 Weeks.

Sorry for the non-creative title. I can think of nothing better. Nor do I have the energy to care. But nevertheless, we are 9 weeks. If you're keeping track, that means we are in the first day of the third month. Hallelujah. That means I am one month closer to not being sick 24/7.

We had doctors appointment number two today. It proved to be pretty uneventful. But, things looked good and are progressing normally so for that I am thankful. I lost two pounds! Which actually means I gained three, because in the middle of last week I was down five from my normal weight. Nice. Never have I been more excited to put weight on.

As far as symptoms, they haven't changed in a week. Nobody worry, I'm still sick all day and night. My body now rejects crackers. The one thing I had going in my life. I've turned to tostitos, they seem to be working so far. My new bedtime is 8pm, every night. Except tonight, but I did get a two hour nap in today - I guess my 10 hours last night just wasn't enough. For literally not doing anything all day, I don't know how I am so tired. I often tell Kyle this kid is sucking the life out of me. For instance today I had to make a trip to Kohls. Normally something I would look forward to. That was so not the case. I literally watched the clock dreading the time I told myself I would leave. Just brushing my teeth is a chore so getting off the couch, getting out of my pj's, putting on semi real clothes, washing my face, and putting on shoes was waaay too much for me to wrap my head around. But finally 11am came. I made it out the door at 11:15, only 15 minutes late. Not too bad. Once I got there all I wanted to do was leave. How awful is that? I'm in a store... shopping, and could not wait to leave. The whole time I was there I tried to figure out if I was going to puke or pee my pants. Thank God I did neither. And I got out of there, stat. I made it home and returned to the couch, my favorite place.

And now on to the real point of this blog. This kids dad. Oh my goodness, this guy needs a medal. I am in awe of him. I knew he was pretty great when I married him, obviously. But I had no idea. These past three weeks have been hell on him. His wife doesn't clean for him, doesn't cook for him, and doesn't really get off the couch. He works all day then comes home and takes care of me. He folds clothes, and does dishes, and picks up, and cooks his own dinner. He knows his beer makes me sick, so he takes it out to the trashcan as soon as he's done drinking it. I try to tell him thank you, but it seems pretty pathetic. I promise someday I'll make it up to him. Maybe I'll even cook him dinner again. For some dumb reason yesterday I got the notion to tell him that the next time he put the toilet paper on the roll that he should put it top side up. Just kinda throwing it out there, not really caring whether he did it or not. Well later that night, of course, I was throwing up and turned to get some toilet paper to wipe my mouth... and he had switched it. Of course he did, he's perfect. I smiled to myself, then continued to puke my guts up. I don't really even know how to tell him thanks, maybe I'll buy him something. Or make him something. Or get him a trophy. Whatever it is, he deserves something huge! He is a saint. I suppose this is where the "for better or worse" comes into play.

In other news, this weekend I'm throwing a baby shower for my sister!! Granted I was a little more excited before the sickness kicked in... but I'm still completely excited! I'm just buying the stuff I originally planned to cook... nbd. I hope she gets lots of good stuff for baby Ali. And it's another weekend I get to see Zoey - which means it's bound to be good.

8 weeks... Again.

You know that special feeling deep in your throat right before you throw up? You know the one. Where your mouth waters, and your cheeks tighten. Where your stomach turns, and your face sweats. Well, that very special feeling has been my life for the past two weeks. It's been a real joy to have around. Thankfully my sister turned me on to Unisom, which helps some, but for the most part it's touch and go. I can't count the times I've asked Kyle why this kid hates me so much. He always reassures me that he doesn't, and he's just doing what he's supposed to. I guess I agree with him.

So here I sit at week 8... again. I thought I was here this time last week, but I was wrong. Oh well, week 7 flew. The past couple of weeks I've just spent figuring out what to do to make myself comfortable, and what I can eat, and what I most certainly cannot. I've learned a few things:
     
   1) Don't eat peanut butter. You will most definitely throw up. The baby hates peanut butter. Or maybe he's allergic? Who knows. But I won't make him eat it anymore.
   2) No matter how sick you are, it's okay to eat Mexican food. And your full belly will thank you. Your heart will hate you, but you have tums in your purse for that.
   3) A plain waffle will get you through breakfast. You won't enjoy eating something that tastes like cardboard, but it will stay in your stomach.
   4) You will wake up STARVING every night at 2am, and unless you eat, you're not going back to sleep. So just get up and eat.
   5) Kyle will survive without your home cooked meals. In fact, he probably prefers the chicken strips and frozen pizza he's been eating.
   6) You're sister will ask you to make a cherry pie for Thanksgiving. Just tell her no from the beginning. It will be better than playing with her emotions telling her yes every time you feel ok, and no every time you're sick.
   7) Saltines will cure everything. Whether you think you're hungry or not, eat them. They will make you feel better.
   8) Stop eating cheese. Even though it sounds good, it will make you sick.
   9) Take advantage of the times when you feel good. If you have to go out and do something, do it now. Don't wait, you will eventually feel sick again and miss your chance.
  10) Your Unisom will get you through the day, but it will wear off at about 5. Make sure you eat before then, or you will be really, really hungry overnight!
  11) You have married a good, good man. He will help you, and cook for you, and get up and do things for you. Let him!!

That's a lot of things to figure out in just one week. But I've been very observant. I have to be. It's life or death at this point. Ha. Ok, not really. But it's the difference between the ability to sit up, and having to lay down.  Sometimes I wonder if I'm the worlds biggest baby, or do in fact have the worlds worst case of morning sickness. I suppose I'll never know. I put myself somewhere in the middle though.

In other news. Not that there's much other news. But it's Thanksgiving time!! The holidays are by far the greatest time of the year, and I cannot wait until Thursday!! We are going to my sisters, which means my parents will be there, and of course Zoey will be there!! And of course, with my sister being pregnant as well, we will be taking many a pregnant picture. She's a tad bigger than me though, at 26 weeks. I just hope I can eat! I think I will anyways, I can't pass up a Thanksgiving meal!


Have a safe and happy Holidays everyone!!

I've been invaded.

As I said in my last blog, I worry a lot. It's still so early, and so much can happen in these early weeks. I try not to think about it, and I've gotten better, but still the thought is there.  However, it's the moments that I find myself dry-heaving over the toilet that I get relief from my worries. They come more often now, so I'm getting more confidence that this little one is doing just fine. Sure, the puking I could do without, but then I would just be nervous all the time. And I'm sure God knows this about me, so He has made sure to give me an extra dose of sickness. Thanks.

It's insane to me how much can happen this early. How many things can change. I already feel like my body is not my own, and that someone else has taken up residence. At only 7 weeks, I find myself needing new pants. I am in sweatpants every day, and here's a fun fact, when I'm not in sweatpants for God knows what reason... my jeans are unbuttoned. I get a sweet little muffin top if I try to squeeze the button together - which is a fight and a look I don't care to have. I get a new pain, twitch, cramp, or itch every day. Today it was a nice little ache under my ribs, and when I pressed on my stomach it got worse. That provided me lots of entertainment this morning. The food I eat is laughable. In the very early weeks, I thought I was gonna be the best pregnant person in the world. I ate spinach every day, had broccoli several times a week, ate a lot of cheese, and made myself real fruit smoothies. HA. Those were a fun two weeks. Now crackers are my meal of choice, and if I do eat I eat Stouffers mac and cheese. I've gone into survival mode, and as long as I'm eating something I feel good about myself. I get my calcium by eating cookies. How, you ask? Well, I trust cookies. I know that a cookie won't come back up. Sure it will make me sick, but it will stay in my stomach. So I eat cookies and drink milk. Calcium, check. I don't sleep anymore. I'm not sure what that's about. I'm learning to "sleep on my left side" cause that's good for the baby or something dumb like that. It is so not comfortable. And then when I do get comfortable, I have to get up to go to the bathroom. So really, there's no point. Oh, and I'm starving. All night long. Not that I want to eat, believe me I don't, but that horrible empty stomach feeling is there all.night. I smell everything. Alcohol is the worst. Unfortunately, Kyle likes beer. I can smell it from just an open can and it makes me gag. I have goose bumps thinking about it right now. I've had to find other ways to get water in my system, as that is no longer going down as easily as it once did. Vitamin water and powerade are doing the trick so far. It has been an eventful 7 weeks, here are some of my favorites:

Most emotional: I had spent my days energy (5 minutes) working on cleaning off the counter in the kitchen. We have a bowl that we put all of our medicine in. Kyle comes home and takes his allergy medicine out and sets in on the counter. I immediately yelled at him, how dare he?! He told me he didn't want to forget to take it, and was gonna leave it on the counter. I was fuming! Who does this guy think he is. So naturally, I started crying. I really had no idea why, and in my head I even thought, this is not a big deal. I couldn't stop though. And he put his allergy medicine back in the bowl :)

Grossest: Every once in a while when I get the nerve to eat, I get stuck chewing, and can't swallow. I say to myself, "nope, this isn't going down." So it's not often for me to chew and spit out food. One night we got subs. It smelled soooo goood, and I was soooo hungry! Dug in for that first bite, got to the swallowing point, and said, nope. Not gonna happen. So I spit it out. It still seemed like it would be so good so I went in for another bite. The same thing happened. And another bite, same results. Before I knew it I had a whole plate of chewed up, spit out sub :)

Most maternal: We were watching a show, and there was a scene where a father hit his son. Obviously, I think that's wrong, but I went a step further. I immediately thought of this little thing in my stomach and how dare the person that ever tries to hurt it! And of course I started crying. And then kyle, being as inappropriate as ever turned to me and asked, "what would you do if I hit Jack." I told him I'd shoot him. And I would. End of conversation.

The best symptom: I don't even know if this is a symptom or not, but it's the only thing I can think of... I have absolutely 0 desire to bite my nails!! Something I've done forever! They are growing so long now, and they're so pretty! I actually have to file and clip them! I love it!

Biggest aversion: Candy! Do you know how crazy that is for me? I loooove candy! Haven't had a bite in 7 weeks. This was actually one of my first clues something was up. I bought a candy bar, because I was standing in line at the grocery store, got home, and couldn't eat it! I just put it in the freezer, not to be touched! This blows my mind.

The heartburn: Oh my God, the heartburn. Why did no one warn me of this one?! This one is a constant. Sometimes I check my chest for actual flames. Tums don't do much, but they help a little. Or at least give me the placebo effect.  I'm ready to move on from this lovely symptom, it has overstayed its welcome. It's really fun after I throw up, as if vomiting isn't enough... here have a burning, aching chest now, too.

So all in all, I've had a lot of fun growing this baby. Most of these things are awful, but I'm still oddly happy most of the time. Thinking about next summer gets me through. It gives me peace knowing that it is all normal, and is all supposed to happen to get a healthy happy baby at the end. So for that, I will take it. I will take all of it. I will complain, and whine, and play the poor me card, but I will take it and secretly be happy.

The One You've Been Waiting For

Well, here it is. I couldn't take it any longer. This has been the only thing I have wanted to blog about for the past 7 weeks, and I wouldn't dare write another blog in front of it. Nothing else will ever be as special or important as this blog.

We're pregnant. I know, you all knew, but I feel like I have to put that somewhere in here. So now that that's out of the way:

I have made myself crazy over writing this blog. Do I write it this early? Do I risk all of the emotion I feel knowing how much can happen? Should I just wait for one more doctors appointment? I somehow felt like by writing this blog I would be jinxing everything, and something terrible would happen. But alas, I can't hold it in any longer. And I have come to grips with the fact that this baby is God's and if for whatever reason of His choosing He takes him back to Heaven I will feel content knowing that the little one was just too perfect for earth and will make a wonderful angel for us. Although, believe you me... we are hoping and praying that he is growing and developing wonderfully in there. For now, I have made it my mission to not worry unless I have a visible sign for concern. So far, so good - so we are a very, very excited couple of Proebstings!

If there’s one thing you learn about getting pregnant on accident it’s that you actually have very little to do with the whole process. I mean, sure there’s the two of you, but with so many things that have to line up at just the right time… there’s no way that Kyle and I created this little person all on our own. Someone else had a hand it in. Someone else had a hand in the timing. Kyle and I have been putting off getting a puppy because we didn’t think we had the time, space, or money to get one. See what I mean… jokes on us. But we are going with the thought that that someone else who had a hand in this believes this is the perfect time, we have the perfect amount of space, and the perfect amount of money. So for that we are blessed. How cool is it that the God that created each of us, and the God that brought us together thinks we are the perfect people to bring a little one into the world right now?? Very cool.

So the shock has worn off, the disbelief has been overcome, and we are happy. So very happy.

I spend my days researching cribs, and car seats, and bottles. We dream of what he will look like, and what he will do with this life. I hope he has his daddy’s honest eyes and warm smile, but my normal sized ears. I pray that he gets Kyle’s math skills, but my common sense. We hope that he loves animals and will someday have a wonderful playmate in his chocolate lab brother Duncan. We can’t wait to share the Cardinals and the Blues with him, and have already decided that he will have a Fredbird and a Louie in his crib. We’ve got big plans for this little guy, but we can’t wait to see the plans he gives us.

I suppose I should spend some time explaining why I just repeatedly called him a “he” when in reality we don’t know what’s in there yet. Well it’s simple. I’m not going to call him an it. And for the entire time Kyle and I have been together we have only ever talked about Jack. He’s always been a boy to us, and I’m not going to change that now when there is actually something in there! And that is not to say that we are “willing” him to be a boy, or that we will be devastated if he is not… I can assure we will be just as excited with a little Leah… but until the doctor tells us otherwise, Jack it is. And the Chinese gender predictor said boy, so there’s that.

I had an ultrasound early on to rule out an ectopic pregnancy, and things looked great. I actually talked to the nurse today about it - and she told me that things looked normal, but that I was a week behind what they originally thought. Bummer. Oh well, I have come to terms with the fact that I will be reliving week 7 again. As long as he's happy and content, I'll give him all the weeks he needs. His new birthday is supposed to be July 5, 2011... and I'm realllly hoping he's not a holiday baby, but I suppose that by the time July actually rolls around I won't care which day he comes out on. 

Though it's not included in this blog, I do have one coming soon telling you about allll the fun I've been having growing a baby - get excited.

Kyle's Crazy Dreams

I just can't take it anymore. I know that I put up random status' about this man's dreams, and jump at the chance to tell someone - but it goes beyond that now. Kyle's dreams need a blog. They actually need a blog of their own, but I don't have that kind of time so I will just slip one in today highlighting my favorites. He is a very expressive sleep talker, and the other night he finally did it... he became a sleep walker.

The Karate Chop.
This was the first. The one where I thought to myself, just what am I getting into. The one where I was terrified for my life, only to start cracking up when I knew what was going on. We were sleeping (this is how they all begin), and all of a sudden I start to hear rumblings. I've learned to be thankful for these rumblings because they wake me up, and get me ready for what's to come. About 10 seconds after the mumbling, he yells (loudly), "I'm gonna karate chop that!!!" I was freaked. Not only did he yell those words he had his hands in the air in the correct "karate chop" position. Me, being an amateur at dealing with a sleep talker asked him, "what?" When I got no response I asked, "What's wrong, what are you doing?" Nothing. Then I put it all together and laid there for about 20 minutes laughing. 

The Caterpillar.
With this one, I had had practice before. But it still freaked me out. We were sleeping, and the rumblings started. I get excited now when I hear this and try really hard to wake myself up enough to know what's going on so I can remember and tell him in the morning. So he's rumbling, then he sits up. Knowing he won't answer, but still curious I ask, "what are you doing?" Of course no response. However, he does say, "what is that?!" Ok, that kinda freaked me out. No one wants to hear that at 2am. So I play along and say, "what is what?" He gets angry and yells, "what is that on the wall?" "what is it?" "it's going up the wall." Knowing there is nothing, but a little spooked I look at the wall... nothing. Before I could tell him nothing, he laid back down and was sleeping soundly. I asked him about this one in the morning, he remember the dream exactly and told me there was a giant caterpillar crawling up the wall.

The Red Fruit Roll-up.
This one is short, sweet, and hilarious. I should preface by saying, we don't have fruit roll-ups in the house, and I've never seen him eat one. Nevertheless, the rumbling started and I woke up ready for action. With very little warning he gets right to the yelling. "Give me the fruit roll up!" "I had a red fruit roll up, give it to me!!" "That red fruit roll up!!!!!" Now for this one I was literally cracking up. Poor guy, someone had take his read fruit roll up.

The Dog.
This one was sweet. The rumblings began, but talking didn't follow. Kissing noises did. Kissing noises, followed by clapping and patting his legs. As if calling a dog. He didn't make actual words in this one, he mumbled a lot, but I could never really make anything out. Lots of calling to a dog or puppy though. Hands in the air clapping. It was great. Unfortunately he didn't remember in the morning.


Sleep Walking.
This happened two nights ago. The rumbling began. I got excited, and got myself alert. He sat up (that's when you know it's going to be good). He sat there for a while without doing anything, so I thought maybe he was actually awake. So I asked if he was ok. No response. Then the yelling started. "I'm still sitting!" "We're sitting!" "I'm sitting!!!" And on and on and on about sitting. I don't know if someone was taking his seat, or someone was making him get up or what... but he was not a happy camper. And he made sure to let everyone know he was still sitting! Then, the strangest thing happened. He got out of bed! Of course I tried to say something to him, but got no answer. He got his phone. Turned it on to use it as a flashlight. He was looking all over the floor for something. Finally found it, it was the remote. He takes the remote over to our UVerse box by the tv. Puts it on its side in front of the little green light to cover it up. Walks back to bed, and is sleeping soundly in less than 5 seconds. Meanwhile I lay there wondering what in the world just happened. God help me if he ever tries to walk further... I can't stop him. Are you even supposed to? I've heard its dangerous if you do, but we have stairs and I feel like sleep walking down stairs could be just as dangerous.


So there you have it. This man is an insane sleeper with the most vivid dreams! It definitely keeps me entertained. There are many more, I could probably write a book. I am dying to find a motion or voice sensitive recorder so that I can share all of this with everyone, but have yet to find one. For now, you will just have to believe me. I can't make this stuff up.

Just Be Kind.

Have you watched the news lately? Read any news articles on the internet? Picked up a paper? Well if you haven't noticed, the world is not a very nice place. More specifically our country is not a nice place. Literally. People are mean. Adults are mean, teenagers are mean, kids are mean and it's out of control. Since when did people stop being kind?

Everybody seems entitled to say and do as they please no matter who it's affecting. Kids are killing themselves over bullying! I went to a public school, I saw bullying and I recognized it was not nice. However, the kind of bullying that seems to be going on now is just disgusting. It goes beyond glasses or acne and has entered a realm of attacking sincerely personal and private things.

Now I am a Christian. And as a Christian I have formed pretty solid ideas of what I assume to be right or wrong based on what I've read in the bible and my relationship with Jesus. That being said, this gives me no right to form a "holier than thou" attitude, or judge someone based on how they live their lives. In fact, it should make me do the opposite. If I truly want to live like Christ did, I would be having dinner with these people that are so "bad." I would invite them over, I would hang out with them, and I would keep my mouth shut and my opinions to myself. I wouldn't hide anything I believe from them, but I certainly wouldn't belittle them. And it's ridiculous how much that happens today. Everyone has a certain idea of how someone should carry out their lives, what they should look like, how they should dress, etc. And if you don't fit into that mold you are an outcast, and deserve to be picked on. Wait, what? If you read that line and agreed with it I don't want to be friends with you anymore.

I'm not perfect. I judge people, I try not to but it happens. I usually do it silently though. I could never bring myself to intentionally hurt someone else. Unfortunately in my love for kids with special needs I see this sick crap all the time. Those kids get the brunt of it, without even really understanding why. But what I don't get, and will never get is why. Why are we who are "normal" so entitled to belittle and nit-pick. And who gave us that right? If you are a Christian, I can tell you with all certainty that you were never given that right, so you especially need to reevaluate how you treat everyone around you.

I don't even know what to call it when teenagers (or anyone) are killing themselves because of words. It's much worse than "wrong" or "disgusting." It needs a word all of it's own.

When I worked with Blake his mom always taught him to say things that were, "Kind and Caring." I always thought that was hilarious, since no one really uses those words anymore. I even joked about it with Kyle and told him he needed to be kind and caring to me. But soon enough I found myself taking it seriously, and when Blake was being mean, I would tell him that he needed to be kind and caring. And it's so true. Everyone just needs to be kind and caring.

Just. Be. Kind. It's not that hard. And if you can't find anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

Motivated.

I first had the idea for this particular blog last Sunday when I was feeling particularly motivated. Ironically though, I never got around to writing it. And now today, probably the day in which I feel motivated the least is the day I'm sitting down to write it. Who knows, maybe I'll inspire myself.

I don't know if it's the cooler weather or what, but last weekend I got extremely motivated. Kyle and I have been kinda sorta eating healthy and kinda sorta working out since we've been married. We were both extremely good at it before the wedding, but now not so much. We keep trying to revamp it, but keep failing. So last Sunday I decided once and for all we were doing it. No more crap food because we're lazy, and no more not working out. Of course there will be exceptions - but for the most part I'm sticking to this.

Now there are a million reasons I don't exercise. Why I shouldn't exercise. I get ridiculous shin splints. I literally feel like my shins are snapping in half when I run. I usually always hurt myself somehow. My wrist is weak from surgery. I have scoliosis. I have a heart murmur. The list goes on, it's quite pathetic - but I love pulling any one of those excuses out of my bag when I don't feel like exercising. I literally hate it. I will never like it. Even when I feel good about myself I still hate the exercising. Who likes to breathe that hard? Who likes sweating? Who likes being surrounded by grunting men staring at themselves in the mirrors? Not this girl. But on Sunday, that magical day, I decided I would try my hardest to be good at it like I was before the wedding. Like I was when I was motivated. Kyle is another story. I dare say he likes working out. I will never understand it. But he's good at it. And it's probably my fault when he doesn't work out, because usually I am the one encouraging him to be lazy with me. I would gladly give him any one of my excuses. However, we flip flop when it comes to eating healthy. I LOVE it. I love knowing what I'm putting in my body, and how it will later affect me. I'm not necessarily all for organic, but I like to be healthy for a reasonable price. I feel like I have a good handle on what foods need to be organic, and what simply do not. There are foods I would never buy because of their ingredients, and I would never go cheap and buy crappy meat. I do enjoy the occasional candy bar though. Kyle is the opposite. Have you met Kyle? He has some ridiculous bond with McDonald's that will never be broken. He would eat an entire pizza by himself, and ate only chicken strips for the first 22 years of his life. Don't worry, I put a stop to that. So I guess we balance each other out. I make him eat things like potatoes, green beans, and turkey burgers, and he makes me go to the gym. Hopefully we'll stick it out longer than a week.

That's not the only way I got motivated though. I also got some serious motivation towards my job. Ever worked from home? Ha. It's tricky. Not that I just sat and watched TV all day, but I see things around the house that I need to do, and then there is facebook. Ugh. So I wrote myself up a schedule, and I've been pretty good at stickin' by it. I give myself time for facebook and house stuff, but a majority of my day is actually spent working now. Feels nice.

I've got to say, four days later and we're still going strong. Usually at day three I can tell if it will stick or not, and this time I'm liking my chances. So we'll see. I guess I better stop blogging though... that was NOT in today's schedule.


On a side note, if you've seen on facebook - I will be participating in this year's Autism Walk/Resource fair - if you would like to join me or make a donation let me know!! The more the merrier!

Vegas Finally Came

It all started several months back. Kyle's best fried Kyle (tricky, I know) got engaged and named Kyle his best man. (I will try really hard to discern the two Kyle's). He and his wonderful, gorgeous fiance came to town for a visit and I was immediately concerned with all the details. The ring, the date, the colors, the dress, the flowers! However, the boys were immediately concerned with one thing... the bachelor party.

When my Kyle said "let's go to Vegas" - I rolled my eyes, laughed, and thought it would never happen. Low and behold, here I am sitting on the couch by myself - hoping he's still alive. Ok, not really - I trust him. I'm actually shocked at how much planning he got done, how much money he was able to part with, and how organized he was. He better give me a trip like this someday now that I know he's capable! Granted he had a lot of help from the other groomsmen, but he did his fair share.

Kyle and I are polar opposites in two ways: 1) He is a perfectionist, to the point of being OCD, and 2) he is a ridiculous planner. Everything he does is well thought out, planned, perfectly timed, organized, and all laid out. I fly by the seat of my pants. I'm am completely impulsive, and would rather not have a plan. So you can imagine how much fun we've had the last couple weeks trying to get him ready. And yes, I said couple weeks - because you know who started getting ready two weeks ago.

So it started simply with, "what should I bring to Vegas?" Of course I answered with an, "I don't know." I couldn't believe he was already thinking about it. If it was me, I would have packed it all yesterday. But I try really hard to accommodate him and his crazy antics. This question of what he should bring came up more and more frequently. Like several times a day. Then money came up. "How much money should I bring?" Good thing we had the same amount in mind, that one was easy.

So now we are at a week away. He wanted to print off his boarding pass. I told him that it was too early. He then got really angry at Southwest. Then he wanted to get money out of the bank. I told him no. He then got really angry at me. I explained to him that there was no way I was letting him carry a wallet full of cash around for over a week, and tried to assure him that the bank would not run out of money. He started getting a pile of clothes together for me to wash. Ugh. Then someone told him he needed button ups, so he got together a pile for me to iron. Ugh. Then one of them had the bright idea to bring their own alcohol, so they wouldn't have to pay for it in Vegas. So he had to plan all that of course. Finally we got to the night before, and we packed and packed and packed. Everything he needed was cleaned and ironed. He picked out exactly what clothes he would wear each day and night. Picked out just the right shoes. He had his money, he had his alcohol, he had his clothes, and he decided he would just get his ticket at the terminal. He was finished! We were finished.

I heard from him last night when he got there. He did in fact make it. I know they are two hours behind, and I know there is no way he is awake, so I will just wait patiently for a phone call. In the meantime, I learned that I am not good sleeping by myself. I could NOT fall asleep last night. And that is just not normal. When he is here I am out in 30 seconds or less, last night I tossed and turned for 30 minutes and got startled by every noise I heard. I usually yell at him for taking up the whole bed and covers. But somehow last night I wasn't comfortable not clinging to the side of the bed, and not freezing. Weird.

But don't feel sorry for me. I've got a fun weekend planned, too! Last night I went to a horse show with my good friend Vicki! It was a lot of fun! And tonight I think I'm going to Oktoberfest with Kelsey? Kelsey, are we still going? Haha. And my mom is coming for the rest of the weekend! Yay!! I guess I better go clean for her....

A Little Nostalgia

I am home by myself. I am sitting, and I am loving it. I worked some of the day then spent the rest of the day running around making sure Kyle gets to Vegas with everything he needs, and with clean and ironed clothes. But I promise, this is not the blog for his big trip - this trip needs a blog of its own.

So I'm sitting here being completely nostalgic. It started this afternoon when I shocked Kyle with the news that I wouldn't be at his softball games tonight. He could not believe it, and honestly I couldn't either. What did I just say to him? I don't know that I've ever just said, "Nah, I'm not going to make this one." And then I reminded him that I have been at every one of his baseball AND softball games for the last five years. Ok, not everyone, but seriously like 99% of them. And I've never just not gone, if I haven't gone there has been a reason. Tonight there is no reason. I just want to sit, at home.

So when I told him that I had been at all of them for the last 5 years - it struck me kind of funny. 1) That's a lot of games and 2) 5 years? Really?  But alas, it will be in fact 5 years in October. Then I remembered how old we were. I was 18! That's shocking enough, but then I remembered that he was 19!? Freaked. Me. Out. And not just about us, where have the last 5 years gone? What have I done with my life?

So here's what I've done (semi in order): I met a boy, I carved pumpkins, I saw a scary movie, I skipped a lot of classes, I began dating a boy, I met the boys family, I met the boys friends, I became a girlfriend, I went to my first college dance, I decided I should stop skipping classes because this boy was really smart, I spent the holidays with a boy, I went to my first Blues Hockey game, I learned my dog was missing, I went to my first college baseball game, I started planning my wedding, I emailed my mom and told her I was going to marry this boy, I went to my second ever Cardinals game, I watched the World Cup, I went on a family trip with a boy, I spent my second New Years with a boy, I got to go back to NY for my Grandmas 80th birthday, I watched my sister get engaged, I became a Maid of Honor, I watched a lot more college baseball games, I got Cat Scratch Fever, I helped plan a wedding, I watched my sister get married, I bought my mom a dog, I got ready for my third holiday season with a boy, I watched a lot more Blues games, I watched a lot more college baseball games, I got ready to watch a boy graduate from college, I watched a boy graduate with Honors, I started my last year of college without a boy, I learned I was going to be an AUNT, I survived the worst teacher known to man, I had surgery on my hand, I welcomed my parents second dog to the family, I got ready for graduation, I graduated, I celebrated a 4th Christmas with a boy, I moved in with a boy and his family, I sat on a park bench and became a fiance, I started planning a wedding, I found out Zoey was going to be my niece, I became a nanny, I got my own place to live, I watched my sister have a baby (well, not all of it), I held little Zo for the first time, I spent a lot of time in Columbia, my mom bought me a big white dress, I picked out some flowers and purple dresses to match, I passed an insurance licensing test, I got ready for the 5th holiday season with a boy, I got a tattoo, I watched a boy get baptized, I got ready to become Mrs. Proebsting, I planned a trip to St. Lucia, I got a new place to live, I invited everyone to come watch us get married, I became a wife in front of all those people, I went to St. Lucia, I watched another World Cup, I learned I was going to be an aunt again, I heard Zoey say, "Hello," I started a new job, I watched Zoey take some steps, I watched a lot of football, I watched Kyle fix a chair, and I got out my sewing machine.

That's a pretty full and happy 5 years.

First Dance

A lot of Italians for Grandmas Birthday!

Engaged at Niagra Falls!

Trip with Kyles family

The pups

I could have cared less to graduate

It's a Zoey!!

Finally.

Big sister to be - Can't wait to meet the new little one!!!

We are Handy People

We Proebstings, we are handy.

Not in the sense that we could survive alone in the wilderness, build a house from scratch, or fix a broken car - but when it comes to living together... we are quite the good little married couple. I have had a blast with Kyle these last 4ish months. It's definitely different living with someone, but oh my gosh its fun! Everyone just told me how hard it was going to be, and how the first year of marriage is the hardest - I have not found that to be the case. And I probably would have been even more excited to marry him if someone would have given me a preview of how this would all go. I am here to tell you that if you find the right person... marriage is not hard, it is in fact hilarious.

It gets even funnier when you have a house to take care of. Now I didn't set out to marry a handy man. I would much rather call a professional handy man than to have someone who thinks they can fix anything themselves. I have seen one too many home projects end up spending way too much money.  Lucky for me, Kyle has never seemed interested in "do it yourself" projects. I think he is fully capable, however, I am completely happy that he doesn't try. Until lately. He gets quite a kick out talking about fixing things up - I think he realized that if you fix something up you don't have to buy something knew. Lord help me. I would MUCH rather buy something new. That's just a thought he has though, he has yet to actually take on a project. Thank God.

But last night I saw him in a whole new light. He turned into quite a handy man. When we sat down to eat dinner, his chair squeaked. After grabbing it and bouncing up and down he asked me if I "heard that." Oh geez, he found a problem. There is one thing that I've always known about him... he is a perfectionist. If something is crooked, or broken, or stained, or heaven forbid squeaky, it is defective. The part where he shook his chair violently so that I would also notice its defectiveness didn't surprise me in the least. The fact that he said, "I wonder if I could fix it" did. He has never been one to fix things, especially things that require tools. We have a tool box, but if we don't need a hammer or nails it rarely gets used. So fearing what would come next, I ended the conversation with "It's finnnne."

Shew.

But then dinner ended. When I asked him to help with the dishes his attention immediately shifted back to the defective chair. He said he had to fix the chair. Wait, what?? Nooooo. Please don't try to fix something. But seeing how excited he got about fixing it made me laugh, and I actually wanted to see how this would all go. So naturally the next question from him was, "Where's the tool box?" Tool box, check. Chair flipped upside down, check. Kyle staring at it, check. So far it was going exactly how I imagined it. He diagnosed the problem to something being loose. After saying, "what is that called" "phillips?" he picked up a screw driver and went to work. And as luck would have it, he fixed it! My wonderful handy man tightened that screw right up! Of course, he had to shake it violently again and make me listen... but this time no squeak! Problem solved. Except for then he had to tip ALL the chairs upside down and see if they needed to be fixed as well. They all passed. They also passed the shake test. And there you have it, he might turn into a handy man afterall. I should also mention that he is also good at getting sliding doors back on their tracks, jiggling toilet handles, and reaching in high places for me!

So what do I do that is so handy? Well today I decided to whip out my sewing machine. Yup, I sew. I make a mean pair of pajama pants, as well as hats and pillows.  I haven't used my sewing machine in years, but I have wanted to get it out for some time. It was covered in dust, but it wasn't anything a little pledge couldn't fix. I wiped it all down, stared at it for a while, and wondered if I could still make it work. It still had a thread and bobbin in it from the last time I used it, so I decided I would first take those things apart and see if I could get them back together again. I did it! It only took me an hour, but I got it all together and was ready to sew! I got an old black shirt out that I new I would never wear again and decided to see if I actually put it together the right way. Ugh, I did not. My first attempt did not go well. The stitching was all off, it was in knots, and I almost broke the needle off. I stared at it for a while and then decided to get out the manual. I found what I did wrong and tried again. It worked a little better, but still didn't look great. Another hour later and I made a straight stitch! Yes! Turns out, even with the settings right I did not thread the bobbin correctly. Rookie mistake. That shirt I used is now completely sewn shut, but it has one perfectly straight line on it! So now I am well on my way to making clothes for us. Ok, not really - but pajamas, yes. And hats. And maybe a pillow or two. And maybe somewhere far, far down the road I will attempt something real. But I'm not holding my breath.

And there you have it. We are quite the couple. With Kyle's ability to fix chairs, and my ability to make hats - there is no telling where are lives are headed! Wherever we're going though, it will most definitely be entertaining. I can't wait til we have a yard someday, then the real fun will start. We've already decided we're going to have a yard full of rocks and cacti. Surely we won't screw that up.

Humble Beginnings

Kyle is a city kid, 100%. He attempts to duck hunt and has fun doing it, but it in no way takes away from the fact that he is a city kid. He was born and raised in St. Charles, and we live here now with no plans of leaving. So I suppose he will remain a city kid. There are very few raised trucks here, wal mart is not the only store in town, and people do not talk to you if they don't know you. Sure it's in Missouri, and compared to NYC or LA it's country - but compared to the rest of the state... it's a city.

Me? As much as I twitch when I say this I am a country girl. I didn't plan that, and I fight it as much as I can. I was not raised in this city, and as much as I love living here and being a part of this city it's not where I'm from. Where am I from? Poplar Bluff.

It's a silly little town in Southeast MO. I say that because a lot of people from here don't have a clue what or where it is. Wal-Mart is THE place to be on a Saturday, and there is no doubt you will see 100 people you know. And if you didn't do your hair or put on clean clothes because you were only going to "run in" all 100 of those people might as well be standing in a line to greet you... with an extra 50 at the end of the line. There are one million churches, with 4 million church gossips just waiting to spread the latest news. And every time I go back there is one more church because someone decided to leave a church and start their own. There is a hospital, but I don't know many people that trust it. In high school we had a "muddiest truck" competition. People stand in the middle of the street to sell newspapers. There are multiple 5-way stops; good luck figuring those out. Tractors drive down the road. There is a restaurant called The Cow Shed. People are friendly, and will talk to you about anything. Most of them have a thick accent. And I would guess that 1 in 2 people have a truck, a big truck. And on the outskirts of this crazy little town is my house. In the middle of the Mark Twain National Forest.

Kyle grew up in the suburbs. He lived on a street of perfectly lined houses with perfectly manicured lawns. I swear there are five models of houses in St. Charles, and every house has to be one of those five models. It. Drives. Me. Nuts. Especially now that we are looking at houses. I swear I will not live in a house that looks like every other house on the street.

There is not a chance of that in Poplar Bluff, more specifically, my parents have a house that no one would even dream up. When you turn off the main highway, and on to the two and a half mile gravel road... you might wonder where you are. And yes, you are in the forest. They live in the forest, the real forest. Where deer frequent the yard, and a bear stopped by my neighbors back porch. And when I say "neighbor" I use that term loosely, we are separated by acres. On top of a mountain, deep in the woods, sits my house. The driveway is gravel, and most of the time washed out, so you better give it some gas if you want to make it up. There is a huge ditch on one side, and the forest on the other... so don't do anything drastic. I have seen too many people make a costly mistake. When Poplar Bluff schools have snow days, it's because of my road. We just prepare to sit in our house for the better part of a week. There is no getting down that driveway in snow or ice. However, if you make it up the driveway you are sure to be rewarded by two of the best dogs in the world.

Kyle didn't grow up with dogs. Well, he kinda did. But he never had one for too long. But honestly, I can understand why. Here, gasp, dogs have to be on a leash! It's a law! And you have to pick up their poop! Sick. It's definitely a deterrent from having a dog. Where I grew up, however, no such rules. There may be rules, but people certainly don't follow them. Our dogs have the run of the forest! The little one is Bella. She is a black lab mix, from the pound. She is nuts, but so much fun, and regardless of what my mom says, she is a good dog! The big boy is Buddie. All 100 pounds of him. He wandered to our house almost two years ago. Absolutely starving to death. He would take a step and lay down. Hung his head low. And barely moved. We've actually kept a lot of strays in my lifetime - and he was going to be no exception. My parents fattened him up, and he has turned out to be a GREAT dog. He's so sweet and gentle. He's old though, so he's got bad knees and hips. But don't worry, they give him glucosomine haha.

So everytime I go home, I have the two of them waiting for me at the top of the mountain. After I walk inside the real fun starts. Buddie takes his huge body and leans. And you fall over. Then he sits on you. Meanwhile, Bella takes full advantage and goes to town on your ears and face. They are quite a pair - and my favorite part about going home.

Kyle has never had to use the phrase, "I'm going to town." I grew up using that phrase. And if you went to town and forgot something - it's going to have to wait until the next time you go to town. I love St. Louis, I really really do. But I like going home, too. I like the challenge of missing potholes on our road, and going to wal mart to see every variety of person I could ever imagine, and I like catching up on all the gossip, and reading the police reports to see who I know. The papers up here are just too big. In Poplar Bluff they are maybe four pages. I love getting the paper there! There is a section titled speakout... where anyone can say anything they want. I will end this with the speakout from Monday's paper when I was home. (Backgroud: I guess they tore down a house to build a parking lot for teachers at a kindergarten center, but I guess the teachers are still parking on the street).

"The lazy teachers need to get off their butts and park in the parking lot."

I love you. Poplar Bluff.

Poor Kyle

Do you ever have one of those days that you just know isn't going to end well? Today was that day. I don't know what it was; if it was something in the water, if I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, if I ate something funny. Who knows. All I know is that today started out okay, grew into something terrible, and has thankfully settled back down into okay.

This morning was fine. Kyle went out golfing, so I had the house to myself which I was pretty excited about. I got to clean, which I was also excited about. I did six loads of laundry, which I wasn't excited about doing... but I am definitely excited for clean clothes and towels. Our bathroom was embarrassing, so I can rest easy knowing we have no risk of catching hepatitis from it anymore. So really, the way the day started, you would think I would be off to a good start. Then out of nowhere... bam. Hello bad mood. Unfortunately for Kyle, it was all around the time he got home. And he was in such a good mood, too. It could have been a wonderful day, but nope, I couldn't pull it together.

I sat in silence through most of the Cardinals game, and they were even winning! Again, should've been a good day. Then when that was over it seemed like everything quickly spiraled downhill. I wanted to be in a good mood, I really, really tried. The most I could muster up was a smile, and even that was pathetic. Kyle was trying to hard to make me happy, but I wasn't having any of it. The more he tried, the more mad I got. Just shut up already, let me sulk! (Is what I wanted to say, but didn't...).

These moods don't happen very often with me. I'm usually pretty even keel, can go with the flow, pretty happy most of the time. So when they do happen, I have no idea what to do. I should really go to anger management to get some coping skills. I do have a hot temper, I admit that. I guess it's the Italian in me. I can yell and fight with the best of 'em. When I lived alone and was in a bad mood, I would just sit on my couch and be mad until I wasn't anymore. Because usually, there is no rhyme or reason to my madness... it just comes. But now, now I've got this other person to deal with. Who is trying so hard to make me better, but really I know that there is no solution. So he continues to be sweet, continues to ask what he can do, continues to tell me to smile, and I continue to fume. And fume. And fume.

We decided to get out of the house for a second. Took a trip on foot across the street to Schnucks to drop off our RedBox. I complained the whole time. I do have shin splints (which is why I shouldn't exercise, but that is a different blog entirely), but the shin splints were only half the problem. The other half was my bad mood. I just wanted to get home. Should have been a nice little walk on a nice little day... it was not.

So we get home and the fun really starts. By this time I am all over the place. I completely know that there is no reason I am in this bad of a mood, but trying my hardest to blame it all on Kyle. He shouldn't have played golf. (I really could have cared less). He should have helped me clean. (I hate when he helps me clean). Help me fold the laundry, I ask in a snotty voice. (I'm cringing watching him fold the laundry, because he's not doing it right!). Another stupid fantasy football draft. (Again, I actually could care less). Poor guy, he just sits and takes it.

Finally. It's time to cook dinner. Now, I love cooking dinner and figured if anything can change my mood... it's cooking. And we were having spaghetti after all, double good mood! Things were actually looking up for me (and Kyle)! He was upstairs putting away clothes (probably out of fear), and I was in the kitchen cooking up a storm. Meatballs, check. Sauce, check. Noodles, check. Everything looking presentable, check. One last thing... the garlic bread. Cooking nicely in the oven, all I had to do was bring the sauce to the table and I could go get the bread out of the oven and it would all be over... bad mood, peace out! However, my sauce spoon was too big for my sauce bowl. And on the trip from the kitchen to the dining room it toppled out of the bowl and onto the beige carpet, hitting just hard enough to also splatter all over the tan furniture. NOOOO! 

Rage. Absolute rage was going through my head. My bad mood was on the verge of extinction, but it all came rushing back 100 times over in a matter of two seconds. So as I'm furiously scrubbing the carpet and couch, I remember the bread. On broil in the oven. Ask Kyle to take it out. He does. The smoke detector is now going off. As quiet as a mouse, he says, "It's burnt." Excuse me, what?! Things are about to get fun. So I leave my orange tinted carpet to check on the bread. I'm fuming. It's not just a little burnt. It is black. Might as well have been coal, you couldn't tell the difference. I am about to go through the roof. I know that it's always a fun story, and always cute when the new wife burns dinner. But I in no way think that's cute. I am a good cook. I rarely burn anything, and haven't burnt anything since we've been married. I HATE messing up food. Cooking has always been fun for me, and I've always been good at it.

After throwing my carpet cleaning sponge on the floor in a fit of rage, I decided to join a fearful Kyle at the table. I sobbed the entire meal. Didn't say a word. Wait, yes I did. I yelled at Kyle for eating the burnt bread. Why was he eating it?! It was disgusting. If you don't believe me, take a look at the picture... that's the other half of what he ate. I really have no idea why he ate it... he could not have been that hungry. After I finished yelling at him for eating it, I went back to being silent. And sobbing. Not because I was sad. Because I was so. freaking. mad. An awful day topped off by a miserable dinner and stained carpet. I gobbled up as much as I could, swallowing half my tears in the process. Got up from the table and began scrubbing the carpet again. I think I got it all out. But that didn't make me happy, nothing could at this point. I had to get out of the house. I decided to go for a drive. I go to get my keys and ring which are both hanging on a hook. The ring falls in the coffee pot below. Are you kidding me? I throw the coffee pot upside down to get the ring out, and I'm out the door.

I didn't know if I wanted to drive, or sit. So I decided to compromise and drive through downtown St. Charles. The speed limit is like 10, and there are shops and cars and people everywhere... so I could drive, but not fast. Within like 10 minutes of this trip I was calm. I just needed a change of scenery. I was no longer irritated with Kyle. And could finally think strait. Ahhh, my bad mood was gone! I hit rock bottom at the house, and could finally start clawing my way back up. I made the loop downtown, and started driving by the river. The river where we got engaged. I saw the park bench and smiled. There was a family on our park bench. Two boys, and two dogs. I hope that's us someday.

My poor Kyle. Most of the time I'm nice to him I promise. But there are those moments and those days when nothing he does will be right And sadly, on those days, it has nothing to do with him. He is sweet, and kind, and good, and eats my burnt bread (ughhhh), and when I said yes on the park bench I knew I was going to be a lucky girl. Unfortunately for him, I don't think he knew the extent of my temper or he might not have asked!  He learned tonight. Poor guy. 

When I got home from my drive, I walked inside. It was completely dark. No tv, no computer, no Kyle. Now when I left the tv was on, the lights were on, and he was sitting at the computer working on his draft. I thought I was done. I thought he saw my temper and was outta here! I actually stepped back outside to see if his car was in the parking lot. It was. Ok, he has to be somewhere. He was upstairs. On the other computer doing his draft. Shew. He's stickin' it out.

Praise Jesus this day is almost over. The hard part is at least. My terrible mood is gone, dinner is over, I am calm, and I think if I'm nice enough he will let me sit with him on the couch. I'm going to go try. Wish me luck!

The Lizard

Dear Zoey,

This is your Aunt Mimi, creating a special blog just for you!

Do you even know how cute you? Well let me tell you.  You are the cutest, most precious little person in this entire world. You make your Mimi feel dumb every time your mother posts pictures of you because suddenly all of my vocabulary goes out the window. All I can seem to come up with is: Sooo cute, she's so cute, so stinking cute, oh. my goodness. how cute!, how cute is she, she is so beautiful. I mean really, I am getting quite redundant when it comes to describing you. Someone needs to come up with a word just for you, that means more and describes more than "cute" or "beautiful" ever could. You are definitely in your own league when it comes to babies. And that's just looks! Don't even get me started on your personality! Could there be a happier, funnier, more pleasant child in this entire world?? I think not. You are everything good and right in this world.

Now if you don't mind, I'm going to get a little sappy on you. Because frankly, if there is one thing in this world that makes me a pile of mush... it's you. I don't know how you do it. Not many people can. Your uncle is another one, but this blog is all about you so we will leave him out of it! When I found out you were going to be a girl, I must admit I was a little sad. There are sooo many girls in our family, and I thought I boy would be such a nice change! Boy was I wrong. Had I only known how perfect of a little girl you would be - I never for a second would have been sad. You are simply breathtaking. And your Mimi has never used that word. You are perfect beyond measure, and I don't know what I would do if you were not in my life. I have never been more grateful for your mom OR dad because they gave the world you! And you are a blessing to everyone you have ever met. You light up a room with just your smile, and you have the power to captivate an audience just by sticking out your tongue. You exude cuteness, and put all of your friends to shame. I don't think someone could dream up a little girl as wonderful as you. Talk about a little piece of Heaven. Kid, you're it.

Now, your momma is having another baby. And I'm a little worried about finding space left in my heart to love him. I call "him" a him for your mom's sake. She's loving the thought of giving you a brother. However, I learned the last time that whomever God gives us will be better than any of us could dream up. Boy or girl. But back to your "brother." They say you find the space, but I just don't know if it's possible. You've got it all, little one. I promise I will love Jonah, but you have your Mimi's heart.

I can't wait to watch you grow up. Today there is a video of you walking. Are you serious? When did you get so big?? I can't wait for your first day of Kindergarten - you will be the teachers favorite, I guarantee it. I can't wait until you start getting into activities. What do you think you'll like? Gymnastics, girl scouts, soccer? Your mom tried soccer once... yikes. Whatever you choose to do, I will be there making a fool of myself letting everyone know that I am the lucky one that gets to be your Aunt! Now lets take a minute to talk about boys. I can tell you right now, there isn't one out there good enough for you. Sorry. You might as well not even bother looking. It'll be a waste of time. Ok, that's a lie. There will be someone for you - and he will be wonderful I'm sure. But man, is he going to have a hard time. First, he's got to get through your daddy. Then your uncle Kyle. Then your GRANDPA. Ha - ask your dad about grandpa someday. The thing is, in our eyes you are perfect. Therefore, no one will be good enough to date you. Sorry. We've got some time though, we'll try to work on it.

I've got big dreams for you, little girl. And I can't wait to watch you conquer them one by one. Will you do me a favor though? Will you give animals another chance? Aunt Mimi and Aunt Vicki would really love to play with animals with you. I know your mom makes dirty faces at them, but ignore her. She just thinks they're dirty. Weirdo. Uncle Kyle and I can't wait to make a Cardinals fan out of you! I know they are embarrassing right now, but I promise a lot of the time they're good! Sometimes they even win! Man, we can't wait to take you to a game. You can have anything you want while we're there. Just don't tell your uncle. I hate that we don't live in the same city, but you can come and see us anytime you want! I asked your mom which month was good for her, but she hasn't given me an answer yet...

Well booger, I could write and write all day - but I would just start getting redundant. You make your Mimi speechless. I am so very proud of everything you do, and that will never change! I pray for you everyday, too, and that won't ever change either. I pray that you will always be healthy and strong. That you will feel love every day of your life. I pray that you will never be alone. That you will enjoy life. That you will realize someday how very special you are, and that you would know the God that created you that way. I pray that you are never sad, but I know that one is a stretch - so to that prayer I attach that when you are sad you will know that you can always, always, turn to your momma, daddy, grandma, grandpa, oma, opa, aunt Anna or uncle David, or your Mimi or uncle Kyle. It can be tough out there, but we've all got your back.

Now, just work on the animal thing for me. Or not. It really doesn't matter what you do, I will love you no matter what.

Could It Be Fall???

I used to be one of those kids who wanted summer to last year round. I lovvved swimming, and being in the water all day long. I loved that I could wear shorts and flip flops, and I loved that it meant no school! However, for the first time, I am absolutely sick of summer. It's hot, it's humid, there are no more summer breaks, and swimming now means swimsuit season... ugh. So you can imagine how overjoyed I have been lately, relishing in the little signs that FALL is approaching.

I think I've decided fall will be my new favorite season. It's cool, but not bitter cold. The nights are perfect for wrapping up in a blanket. You can eat soup and not feel like an idiot. The spice scented candles are everywhere. Hoodies get to make their way out of the closet. The leaves begin to change colors. And it pushes us gently into the holiday season.

Last night, for the first time since spring - we got to sleep with the windows open! Praise Jesus. I love the fresh, crisp breeze... and the smell. To me, fall smells delightful. There is something so cozy about having to bury under covers knowing that a blanket of cool fresh air is waiting right above you. Aaaah, bliss. That's not the only sign that fall is approaching though. It's also that wonderful, yet annoying time of year when the heat goes on in the morning on the way to work, and the air goes on in the afternoon on the way home. It's really unfortunate, however, when you find yourself sweating on the ride home only to notice that the heat is still blasting just as you left it in the morning. Dew is now on my car every morning. It's a pain in the butt to get off, but I'm happy knowing that in just a few months it will be ice, and at least I don't have to deal with that yet! Thoughts of hot chocolate begin to creep back into your mind. Kids go back to school. Pools are closing left and right. The isles of wal mart are filled with ghosts and pumpkins, and even some turkeys. Those things are all pretty general signs that summer is ending, and fall is approaching.  There are a few, however, that are special just to the Proebstings. And these are some of my favorite:

We have a very special friend that specializes in knitting booties. She even showed me how to do it, and I made a pair for Zoey when she was a newborn. I decided then and there I would never knit another thing as long as I lived. I take full advantage of the fact that she loves it though, and we have received several pairs over the years. Tonight I came home from getting dinner - yeh, I'm a bad wife, I didn't cook - and Kyle was wearing a pair of his booties! This is a pretty funny sight in itself. Kyle wears size 13 shoes, so can you imagine a booty that big?! I loved seeing him in them though, it reminded me that I'm not just dreaming it up, and there is actually a chill in the air! Another thing that is a special signal of fall to just us Proebstings is Fall Ball. Because spring and summer softball just aren't enough!  And thank God these games are double headers - I don't know what I would do if I only got to watch ONE game on a chilly, fall night. (That's complete sarcasm). At least the mosquitoes aren't as bad. And the final, and my personal favorite sign that it is fall in the Proebsting household is the entrance of football. Not just on TV every Sunday, although, don't worry - we wouldn't dare miss a game. It is also alive and well in the fantasy world. You might be wondering why I have some much free time to write a blog like this. That's simple. Kyle is upstairs in a "fantasy draft." Why is he not downstairs using the laptop? That's also simple. He doesn't trust it. He told me that today. He doesn't trust my computer enough to draft players for his fantasy football league. I suppose it could ignite on fire. I suppose it could crash. I suppose the battery might run out. So I mean, why would he trust it? He got third pick though, so I think he's pretty happy about it. Why do I not have a fantasy team? Oh, that's easy. Last year he actually talked me into it. I had a team lined up, and was ready to share this passion with him. I got to his house promptly 30 minutes before it started just like he asked, and with my laptop in tow. When the draft actually started, however, the internet connection failed. What a freak accident, right? Nope, there is an explanation which was given to me by Kyle. It was MY fault. I caused the internet to crash. Me and my laptop simply cannot be trusted. Needless to say, we excused ourselves from the draft and promised Kyle we would never enter another one so as to keep all of the internet connections in St. Charles in proper working order.

So here we sit. Just my laptop and I. Eagerly anticipating the arrival of fall. Enjoying all the signs that it is coming - and hoping that summer is behind us. Hoping also that we might see Kyle before the night is over. For now, we'll leave him be - he would want that.

It's Preschool. Are you kidding me?

If I ever hear the phrase, "Where will he be going to school" again, it will be too soon.

Being a nanny for a child that has two parents that own companies has certainly opened my eyes to a whole new world.  Not that they lead over the top lives, but just based on where he lives in St. Louis puts us at all the places with other extremely wealthy children... and their moms.

Now it may sound like it a lot during this blog, but I assure you that I do not hate rich people. And I don't hate money. I actually hope I am rich some day. But I hope I do different things with my money.

Blake is 3, so we do a lot of 3 year old things. We go to the zoo, and the magic house, and the park(s), and the mall indoor playground, and Grants Farm, and the list goes on. Needless to say, during the week days, when school is in session, these places are filled with stay at home moms. Again, I'm not being mean, I want to be a stay at home mom. These just aren't any stay at home moms though. They are decked out in jewelry, nice clothes, most of the time heels, and prada sunglasses. And I'm sure a majority of them are very nice, and feel very blessed to have all of those things. And, of course, I'm sure some of them are snots. I've learned to deal though. I see them everywhere. And I try my very darnedest not to judge.  Some of them I even have pleasant conversations with as Blake is running circles around their child. For those I talk to, however, they ALL ask the same dreaded question... Where is he going to school?

This kills me. I'm not sure why, it has always gotten on my nerves. A lot of things I have come to grips with over the past year, but not this one. A lot of things I have shrugged off, and let slide because I know this is a totally different lifestyle than I was raised in, or want my kids to be raised in. However, I can't let this one go.

Who cares where he is going to school. He is three. Colors and numbers are the same no matter where you learn them. Now, maybe some of them are curious, after all there are about 500 preschools in this city. But I have a feeling, by the snotty tone in their voice, most of them are asking to place him in a certain status. Sometimes I want to just tell them, "Oh he's going to public school." And watch their eyes pop out of their perfectly make-up'd sockets. But I don't. I politely answer, Ladue Early Childhood. For those of you who don't know St. Louis, Ladue is where the best of the best live in St. Louis, so that usually gets me a nice smile and a, "Oh, that's great!"

So why am I going on this rant now? I don't know. I think because I only have a day left. And because today was Meet and Greet with the teachers at Ladue Early Childhood, and I got to see all these same mom's and their kids... and all I wanted to do was take Blake and put him in a public school. The diversity was non existent, the prada sunglasses were out in full force, and the little boys in pink polos were a dime a dozen. Knowing that this preschool costs as much as my college education gives me an emotion I don't have a name for. I'm sure it's a great quality education, and I'm sure the teachers are wonderful, but in sending a child there to learn colors and numbers you are paying for a name. And the crazy thing is, that is one of the cheaper schools! Poor Blake got denied... DENIED... from an even more ritzy preschool. It's a dog eat dog world out there, and who knew it all started in preschool!

Kyle and I have had the conversation a lot actually, and our kids will not be going to a private school. I hope we have that kind of money someday, but I hope we see a better need for it. And God strike me down if I ever ask that question.

One more Tuesday

When I said I sold insurance, I lied. Okay, not completely, but I don't actually start selling insurance for another week.  Instead, I am... a nanny. I have been for a little over a year - and it is sometimes fun, but most of the time just exhausting. However, that's not what I'm here to talk about tonight.

I watch Blake in Kirkwood. So everyday, I have a nice little twenty minute drive there that gets me pumped up for the day, and I nice little twenty minute ride home that lets me unwind. I've come to absolutely treasure this time. I neeeed the preparation in the morning, and the silence at night. A lot of times I don't even turn on the radio.

On my rides in the morning, I have come to notice certain things and people that I can count on being the same. I see the Metro turning onto Manchester about the same time I do, I see bakery workers opening their shop, and I see masses of people filing into the giant EdwardJones building on the corner. My favorite, and most certain, however, are the people I see. I see five people, the same five people everyday, in the exact same spot.

In a year plus some, I have really come interested in the lives of these people. I mean, I see them everyday, rain or shine, snow or ice. Every morning they line the street as I drive by. I often wonder if they notice my same blue explorer driving past them. They are each lined up at a different Metro sign waiting for the bus. Each about 200 yards from each other. I often wonder if they know each other, and talk when they get on the bus.

The first is a younger guy. Probably my age, or a little older. He always seems so tired, ha, poor guy. He seems like a college student, however, he is there in the summer, so I don't know where he's going... or coming from. He usually has a backpack, but seems clean enough to not be homeless I've decided.  He has dark hair, and the way he's built, and the way he carries himself makes me think he might be in the army or something. Who knows?

The second, might be my favorite. She is probably in her late twenties, early thirties. She is a homely looking girl, with glasses, a bit of acne, and long, unfixed hair. She always has some sort of long skirt and nice blouse on. Her matching abilities are iffy. She is obviously going to work somewhere. I imagine a library. Sometimes I see her talking to herself, which makes me laugh. Today though, I got a huge kick out of her. Something big must have been going on at the library because she was pacing in circles!! On the sidewalk! I could tell she was walking in circles before I got to her, and watched her for a bit as she continued in my rear view mirror. But I had to focus on the next one, so I couldn't watch too long.

The third, makes me a little sad - I think. She is blind. Or partially blind. I suppose I will never know. She walks with a stick, and is always standing in the same spot, looking straight ahead. As if, what's the point of looking anywhere else. I am so intrigued by this one! How does she get to the bus stop? How does she cross the busy street if she has to? How does she get on the bus, and know where it's going? Does she live alone? Does she have help? She looks lonely to me, but that's just the perspective I get from my front window. I realize that she has probably been doing this for a while, and she is always by herself, so I'm sure she knows what she's doing - but I have so many questions! Where does she go? Where does she come from?

The fourth is typical. He is a St. Louis business man. In fact, I judge him. Ha. Not harshly, but I suppose in the year I've been watching him - I've learned that maybe he is just smarter than the average bear. He always wears a suit. He has glasses and is balding. Looks smart. Always has a leather briefcase with him. I always think to myself, why does this guy want to ride the city bus?? He obviously has money. But, what do I know. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe he has one suit, and changes the undershirt? Maybe the leather is fake. Or maybe, he is just money savvy and thinks to himself, why waste the gas? Maybe he's environmentally friendly? What do I know - I only see him five seconds a day.

The fifth is my favorite in a different way. It is a man, and his yellow lab!! Yay! They are always running! Every morning at 7am, they are running together down Manchester. No matter the weather, they are out there. I am a little confused by this though, because the dog is in a mussel? Now, it's a yellow lab... what yellow lab has ever done anything wrong?! It's not a full out mussel, but its the kind that just has the thin strap around his snout. Doesn't seem to bother him though, he's always got his tongue flapping in the wind. Just him and his owner getting a nice jog in before the long day. I'm so happy this dog has a good owner, I love seeing that! Incidentally, these are all in order so I get to see the dog last before I get to Blakes - God planned that, I know it.

So there you have it. I have been working there for 16 months, and have seen these people everyday, and never told anyone. Never felt a need to. However, today seemed different for some reason. I will be done with Blake in just a week. Which means I have just one more Tuesday with these people. That almost makes me sad. Will the young guy ever get to sleep in - thus not looking so crabby? Will the librarian learn to fix her hair? Does the blind lady have any help? Will the business man ever drive his own fancy car to work? Will the dog ever not have to wear the mussel? Do the bus riders talk to each other on the bus?? I will never know any of this. Rats. But they have been fun to watch, and analyze. Everyday they show me the raw diversity that is America. And I wouldn't be surprised if I wake myself up early enough to make the 20 minute drive to Manchester to see how they are all doing in six months or so - I hope they will have missed me, too.





Speaking of which... I decided to play golf today with Kyle. Prooobably not the best decision for my wrist. Whoopsie.