It turns out the third trimester of pregnancy, having a newborn, running a local political campaign, and keeping a law firm up and going takes up any free time for blogging.  It's been awhile.  And since I have a peacefully napping 6 month old beside me, I'm going to skip the "Everything You Need to Know about the Third Trimester" and "Everything You Need to Know about Birth/A Newborn" posts and move right on into the here and now.  For me, there wasn't much to tell about the third trimester anyway, except that you get so huge you can't do much more than flounder around.  (I clearly remember the day I was literally rolling off the couch and my brother said, "Man, you are huge, aren't you?"  Thanks, for that...) We did end up having quite an eventful birth, so maybe on a slow day I'll get around to sharing that story.

I'm finally starting to feel like my head is above water.  The campaign is over, the office is on fire, and every day the babes is giving me more and more time to do something other than nurse, change diapers, and entertain him every second.  So, with this new found time, I'm not cleaning my house or doing laundry, or preparing meals ahead of time, or working more at the office...I'm hoping to blog more.  I will still share funny stories as they happen--like the crazy Friday I had last week that started out as my first innocent outing alone just to get a manicure--but I also plan to change things up a little here too.

By no means am I an expert mama.  I mean, on the scale of mothers, I would have to be in the bottom one percent when it comes to experience.  This is my first baby and he's only been in our nest for 26 weeks.  But, I do spend a lot...maybe too much...time trying to perfect this new full time job of being a parent.  I am constantly trying to do things better, find the right tools, and make everything fun and enjoyable at the same time.  Besides the sheer happiness that our little man brings to us constantly, I really have enjoyed all of the gadgets and gizmos that come with having a baby (except for how much room they take up in our little abode and how many of them we have to drag around with us when we go anywhere).  I am always trying to find the "just right" everything and I thought maybe it would be helpful to share some of that here for others.  I also am thrilled when I learn a good tip from another parent, so I thought I could pay it forward and share anything insightful and helpful that we've come up with here too.

And lastly, when I moved from the city back to my hometown, I wanted to blog more about the things I really appreciate about small town living (of course, there's lots of things I don't appreciate too, like Target being an hour away from me), so I hope to do some of that here also.

But for now, the new boss is starting to stir, so I'm going to go back to nursing, changing diapers, and entertaining--until I have another free minute.
 Hope you'll stick with me, even though I've been so intermittent over the past few years!

We have now survived the second trimester and are headed straight into this Missouri summer for the third.  Just as everyone told me, the second trimester was a breeze.  Most days, I even forgot I was pregnant.  No nausea, no headaches, no aches or pains, no aversions to food, and for me, not even any crazy cravings.  However, there were still a few things I didn't fully expect.

Shopping is no longer fun.
I love shopping, so this whole needing a completely new wardrobe thing should have been fun, but has turned out to be a real downer.  First of all, there are so few places to even shop for maternity clothes.  And then, after you find those places, they have one rack (or less) in their maternity "department".  Sure, there's Motherhood Maternity, but I have found it to be overpriced for the quality, and somewhat out of style.  Also, why would you cram as much as possible into an extremely small space with teeny tiny aisles for a bunch of women with protruding bellies, when most of them are pushing a stroller?  And, if you are going to cram your little space with clothes, then carry all the sizes.  Every time I finally find something I like, they don't have it in my size...and they don't plan on getting it in stock, either.  So, I've resorted to doing a lot of online shopping...and returning.  Why make a dress for anyone, much less a pregnant woman, that you can completely see through?  And who knew pregnant women weren't allowed to wear white capri pants?  I started looking for that summer staple back in February.  No luck at all.  Motherhood Maternity finally got a pair in a few weeks ago, and they are exactly what I was looking for, but unless I want to go commando underneath, they're not going to work.  And what about skirts above the ankle?  We're hot!  Make some shorter skirts!  And while you're at it, make some in white!  And last but not least, as if trying on everything before you were six months pregnant wasn't exhausting enough...

You will pee when you sneeze.
I swore this was not going to happen to me, until it did.  I remember standing in front of the oven, working on dinner, when I sneezed and simultaneously peed.  It happened very early on in the second trimester, actually, so I thought I had a long road ahead of changing my underwear several times a day.  But, I started a prenatal fitness class which incorporates a lot of Kegels and pelvic floor exercises, and I swear it has worked.  I've sneezed, coughed, and laughed a lot since, and haven't peed again...yet.

Prenatal classes can help you meet other pregnant women.
But they won't if you're the only person in the class.  I signed up for a prenatal fitness class thinking it would be a fun way to stay fit during the last two trimesters and meet other pregnant women.  But, apparently no one else out here in the country wants to stay fit while they're pregnant.  It's great for me though, because now I basically just have a personal trainer every week.

You won't be able to breathe when you bend over.
I thought it would be the eighth or ninth month before this happened, but no.  I already dread tying my shoes or rolling up my jeans.  Haven't yet figured out how I'm going to put my new Jamberry nails on my toes tomorrow for my cousin's wedding.  I feel bad taking them into the nail salon and asking them to do it.

Everyone has an opinion.
And no one's opinion is the same.  One person says you've gotten "really chunky."  Another says you haven't gained any weight.  (I've gained thirteen pounds so far.)  One person thinks you should name your baby after a family member.  Another thinks you should name him after royalty.  One person says you MUST have the wipe warmer.  Another says it was a total waste.  But no matter what, women will share, which leads me to...

Pregnancy is the way women connect.
I can't believe that all of my adult life I have been an outcast.  I didn't realize until I was showing, that pregnancy will make you tons of friends.  Women that never would have talked to me before will approach me at the gas station and have my ear for ten minutes.  They have questions, they have answers, and of course, they have opinions.  Cliff's theory is that before you have kids, women think you will steal their men.  I just think it's a way for women to connect over something that only we can experience and something that consumes our lives completely.

You will have more energy.
But no matter how much energy you have, you won't get everything done.  We had planned to get the nursery completed while in the second trimester, but we didn't even get started on it until I was already in the third.  I already regret it...see the paragraph on not being able to breathe when you bend over.

Pregnancy brain is real.
I am so tired of being dumb.  I don't mean the time I was looking for my keys and they were in my hand.  I did that before I was pregnant.  I mean the time I paid for everything at the store, then walked off without it.  Or, the time I went to the wrong school for my brother-in-law's graduation.  Or the time I parked in Kansas City and then couldn't remember where I had left the car until we had walked around for 40 minutes.

Husbands and partners may put up with more than we do during pregnancy.
This whole experience may be even tougher for our support systems.  They put up with so much (see the paragraph on pregnancy brain).  Cliff is smart enough to say that he hasn't even noticed I'm cranky, that I haven't gained any weight, and that I don't keep him awake while I toss and turn at night.  He also jumps through hoops to try to accommodate me before I even have to request it.  He eats what I want to eat, he agrees to do anything and everything pregnancy and baby related, and pulls more than his weight in helping around the house.  I can't imagine what it would be like to put up with a real life Russian nesting doll for nine months, but he does it, and he does it with a smile on his face.

So, on to the third trimester, where I'm already freezing Cliff out of the house keeping the A/C at 64 degrees, getting new aches and pains daily, and struggling to sleep comfortably.  But, on the bright side, still no migraines, constipation, or heartburn!  Two months and counting...

This truly has been the best Christmas I've ever had.  Cliff says it's been his best Christmas also, but I think he's just trying to make me feel better because I easily won the Worst Wife of the Year award on Christmas morning.

We started the seasonal festivities with Cliff's immediate family.  We had a delicious steak dinner, received lovely gifts (Cliff got a really nice jack for his new shop!), gave fun gifts, played board games, and danced our keisters off in competition with each other.

On Christmas Eve, we celebrated with my immediate family.  We ate a delicious brunch, decorated the tree (which I hope you saw on facebook), watched our traditional "National Lampoons Christmas Vacation", and again received wonderful gifts (Cliff got a huge toolbox and floor paint/sealer for his shop!) and had fun giving gifts, too.

That evening, we got all gussied up for Christmas Eve Mass, had snacks and drinks at my Grandma's and then ended the night with snacks and drinks at Cliff's grandparents' house.

Christmas morning was upon us, and we didn't have any obligations until 2pm!  We had agreed not to get gifts for each other, so we were going to have the entire morning and early afternoon to enjoy breakfast together, lounge around, and completely relax.  I slept in until 9:00!  When I awoke, Cliff was next to me, fully dressed, and filled with excitement.  He told me he had already done chores, and we should get up and see what was in my stocking.  WHAT?!  MY STOCKING?  I imagined my stocking bursting at the seams while Cliff's hung there empty and dilapidated.  (Our stockings are only a year old, but that's how I imagined it.)  I immediately felt awful.  The things I would have normally put in his stocking, I had just bought while he was with me in the last couple of months, under the assumption that they weren't needed for Christmas morning.  I didn't even want to leave the bedroom.  I was worried that if Cliff had surprised me with some stocking stuffers, he would surely think I had done the same.  But I hadn't!  I immediately fessed up.  I told him I hadn't gotten him a thing.  He assured me it was no big deal and finally convinced me to go to the living room.

He took down my stocking and handed it to me.  Okay, not bulging at the seams.  This might be okay.  I reached in and pulled out the hidden item.  A really nice pair of leggings.  I was thrilled.  Not only because I loved them, but also because I hadn't been completely bamboozled.  He hadn't gone over the top.  This was just fine.

Then he told me to hang on.  He knew we weren't supposed to get each other gifts, but he had a card for me and it would explain everything.  At this point, I thought it was just the leggings and a card and a very thoughtful husband.  Cliff brought in his homemade card.  I started reading it--there was something about me being selfless, something about our relationship, something about things I would never buy for myself...it was hard to read through my tears.  That's right: at this point I had started crying.  Not only because everything dripped with sweetness, but because I could see this was more than just a pair of leggings, a card, and a very thoughtful husband.

Cliff carried in six more gifts.  I opened each one and every single gift was perfect.

Then I started asking how he got all of this done without me knowing.  This is truly the only time in my life that I can remember being completely and utterly surprised.  Turns out, that day that I was upset with him for "playing fantasy football online instead of working" was when he was ordering everything.  Turns out, those boxes that I carried in from my parents' front porch were my gifts that he had shipped to them.  Turns out, that afternoon that I sent him all over the tri-county area--in freezing rain--to get a teaspoon of almond extract for the cookies I was baking, was the day he wrapped everything at my parents' house in record time.  And turns out, while he was out "doing chores" on Christmas morning (while I slept peacefully) he was really carrying everything in from the trunk of his car.

And that's when I realized not only had I hit the jackpot--and not just the scratcher ticket jackpot, but like the biggest ever Powerball jackpot--in the category of husbands, but that there was also no way I was ever going to top this.  Ever.

We went on to two more celebrations that day, and have one more this weekend.  I've been constantly trying to think of a way to at least equal what he did.  No worthwhile ideas so far, so until then I guess I'll keep my Worst Wife of the Year award on the shelf.  Right behind Cliff's Best Husband of a Lifetime award.

My little brother has been on a house hunt lately.  He should could just start paying us rent since he spends about 75% of his time at our house, but for some reason, he wants to eventually grow up and have his own place to, well, basically just sleep.  And drink.  Because in the long run, he hopes my mom or me will continue to cook, clean and do laundry for him.  Anyway, the house hunt has meant that we are all on the look-out for new real estate listings or auctions.  We've been through a few houses, but nothing seems "just right" yet.  Last week, we went through a house that was scheduled to auction today.  Jake decided it was "just right"...if the price was "just right."  He talked to the bank, planned out what he would have to do to the place if he bought it, and figured up his maximum bid.  This wasn't just any old bachelor's pad.  This was a five bedroom, three bath house with two workshops/buildings, a pond and two acres of land.  I was sure he was going to need my support at the auction.
I remember going to a few auctions as a kid, but my memories just consist of drinking hot chocolate and exploring the place with the auctioneer's kids while the adults did their thing.  So, I was pretty excited about this new adventure as an adult.  And I was even more excited to decorate my brother's new house  that my brother might be the owner of his own place at twelve noon.
I helped mentally prepare by reviewing the sale bill the night before and making a list of the items I wanted to bid on.  Then I went into a slight panic realizing that I had never actually bid on anything before.  (ebay doesn't count, people.) I was just envisioning all of those comedy skits where the guy scratching his eyebrow accidentally buys Abraham Lincoln's stovepipe hat for millions, or the episode of The Cosby Show where Cliff Huxtable loses his will power and gets in a bidding war with his own wife and pays way too much for a piece of artwork.  So, I made a plan with Jacob that I would tell him everything I wanted, along with my top bid, and he could bid on it for me, but then give them my buyer's number.  It was settled.  I was excited again.
Then I woke up this morning and it was 22 degrees outside.  And forecast to just get colder throughout the day.  So, I showered and dressed in layers.  I don't mean cute snow bunny layers (wait, I guess snow bunnies wear the opposite of layers, right?), so...I guess I don't mean cute layers like I could pose for the cover of the Patagonia catalog.  I mean, two pairs of socks--one of which were thick, wool, mens' hunting socks, leggings, then jeans, then a tank top, a long sleeved shirt, a short sleeved shirt, a hoodie, my husband's Wick outerwear overalls, and my big puffy Gap down coat, followed up with my Muck Chore boots, a scarf, gloves, and a stocking hat.  As I mentioned, the Wick outwear was my husband's and since they were made for a man, they were quite slim in the hips.  Everything else about them fit fine, but it was a squeeze through the hips.    So much so that I couldn't tell that I had my seatbelt on when I got to the auction and tried to get out while still strapped in.  These layers also meant that there was no way I was going to be able to pee until I got home and stripped down.  Those childhood memories of auction hot chocolate were laid to rest.
I was just about ready to run (somewhat like a gingerbread man might run) out of the house and pick up my brother when I realized I probably shouldn't bring my whole purse to this event.  But what does a woman bring to an auction?  Especially when she can't carry a purse?  That's when I found a large Velcro pocket on the front of the mens' bib overalls I was wearing.  Somewhat of a murse, I guess.  But there was no way all the contents of my purse were going to fit in there.  So, I narrowed it down to: a checkbook (a must, especially because everyone around here actually prefers a check to a debit card); some cash; my ID, and an ink pen (Cliff suggested this so I could write down bids live--this did not happen).  I forgot: CHAPSTICK.  But I survived.
I stopped by and got Jacob and we headed to the auction site.  Cliff met us there, but had to leave early for court.  Everyone was gathered around a long table full of items.  Everything was selling quick!  The first item that was held up that caught my interest was an antique Nabisco Saltine crackers tin.  I tapped Cliff and he bid.  We got it.  FOR TWO DOLLARS!  This was fun!  A few minutes later, I saw Cliff bid again, but I had been daydreaming and had no idea what he was buying.  He got it.  Then I saw it.  A huge box chock full of coasters and trivets.  I have no idea why we bid on it, but at least my white elephant gift is taken care of for this Christmas.  And the whole box was only ONE DOLLAR!  Not long after that, something the auctioneer said caught my attention again and I leaned in toward the table to see what he was selling.  I slightly bumped Cliff when I did this and he thought it was my sign for him to bid.  He threw his hand up and we ended up with two antique burlap feed sacks.  That sale was completely accidental, but they actually are really neat and they only cost us THREE DOLLARS!
Then it hit high noon and it was time for the real estate to sell.  Everyone cleared out of the way and my brother took center stage.  Then a cute young girl moved up to the front edge of the crowd.  The auctioneer started chanting and the GIRL bid!  Jake bid.  She bid.  Jake bid.  She bid.  Jake bid.  She bid.  Jake thought for a long time and bid again.  The girl thought for a long time and bid again.  Jake thought for a long time and bid again.  He was at the top of what he wanted to spend.  The auctioneer stopped chanting, said they were going to take a two minute break and come back.  My heart was already racing and I was about to pass out.  Nothing like making it more suspenseful.  The crew came back and asked the girl if she wanted to up her bid.  She went up $500.  Jake thought for what seemed like an eternity, then bid again.  The girl thought for what seemed like even longer, and then upped it another $500.  Jake thought again, and then shook his head no.   The girl got it.  I was so heartbroken for him.  But later, we learned of some major water damage, flooding and sewer problems, so I think it was all a blessing in the end.
Cliff left for court.  The auction moved inside.  I bought a chest of drawers for FIVE DOLLARS!  And I bid on it MYSELF!  We moved upstairs and I bought an antique mahogany library table in excellent condition for  THIRTY DOLLARS!  And I bid on it MYSELF!  I was loving this!  I couldn't wait to bid on the items Cliff wanted.  An hour later, Cliff texted and said if I was cold I should go home and not wait for the items he wanted.   I responded that I was staying and he would need to bring a truck when he came back.
We moved to the workshops to bid on Cliff's stuff.  I was ready.  But then, I realized the auctioning of shop goods--tools, machines, motors, and the like, was like Black Friday shopping for some women.  These men were ruthless once we were in their domain.  They pushed me out of the way, stood in front of me, and acted as though I shouldn't be there.  And most of them weren't even bidding on anything!  Sadly, I ended up missing out on the couple of things Cliff wanted.
Auctions like this are one of those great small town things.  I'm addicted.  I can't wait to start scoping out sale bills.  (Like I'll have time for that!)
And just for the record: I spent five hours in the frigid outdoors and never got cold.

I love to cook.  I love to bake.  And I love to eat.  I've always kind of prided myself on my cooking and baking skills.  I love showing up at someone's house with a "just out of the oven" appetizer, or filling tins with Christmas cookies and giving them away over the holidays.  Therefore, I've always been interested in having the best of the best when it comes to kitchen utensils.  It's also why my Christmas and birthday wish lists always consist of some specialty can opener or garlic press or basting brush, among other kitchen-friendly gadgets.  (Except those tear-free onion glasses.  I just can't get on board with those.)  Unlike my mother, who is still using the wooden spoons (among several other things) that she and my dad received as a wedding gift...just shy of FORTY YEARS AGO.  A concept I could never understand.  Why not spend ten bucks on a just-released cheese grater?
When the weather turns cold, I really get in the mood to cook and bake.  So, yesterday morning I woke up, brushed my teeth, and went straight to the kitchen.  I started on a big batch of taco soup, then made a lasagna, then a breakfast casserole, and topped it all off with a big batch of peanut butter cookies.
As I was standing over the second skillet of browning hamburger, chopping it up with my bamboo spatula, I realized I had forgotten to add the Pampered Chef Mix n' Chop to my 2013 wish list.  Then, in an instance, I realized I had immediately thought to myself:  I don't need a fancy hamburger smasher--my bamboo spatula is doing just the trick. 
WHAT?!  Did I really just decide to pass on a new and improved kitchen tool?
Oh no, it's true.  I really am turning into my mother.  (Although, that's not such a bad thing, overall.)
Still, I won't reject the Mix n' Chop (or any other kitchen goodies), if anyone does gift them to me this Christmas.

Last week was horribly busy.  This week is much better.  We are looking forward to getting really caught up around the house and office.  So much so, that Cliff even made a "farm to-do list".
When it started, it had about six tasks listed.  We easily marked off half of those in the first evening.
Saturday morning, I woke up and walked into the kitchen to see the list had grown.  I secretly groaned.  Then I realized that Cliff wasn't the person that added to the list.  It was my cousin Shane who had spent the night with us after exhausting all opportunities with any girls.  Or guys.  Or animals.  Or plants.
The list really made us laugh.
But Sunday night, after my brother left our house (after exhausting all opportunities with any other friends.  Or family.  Or animals.  Or plants.), I saw the list had grown even longer.  Before I groaned, I recognized Jacob's handwriting.
The long to-do list turned out to be my favorite to-do list ever.