Boobs and diapers.

Did you know having one of these blog things is kind of a commitment? Kind of a big one, in fact.

I should have realized that before I started one, given my impatience when other people don't update their blogs. But it takes time. And a good idea. Or an interesting experience to talk about. Of the three, I have none. Except maybe time. But time without anything exciting to talk about leads to lame posts like this one. So that's not good enough.

I've actually started...let me count...four blog entries that I haven't finished. Two of them are worth finishing, but one requires scanning embarrassing photos of myself, and the other one requires admitting to my obsession with Twilight. Not sure I'm ready for either of those to go public. So for the time being I will humor you with my pathetic and slightly crazed attempts at preparing for baby Breyer's arrival.

I feel...unorganized. Unprepared. Clueless. Kind of manic. And like I will never be able to get my house clean enough for a baby.

I believe I may have entered the nesting phase of pregnancy.

Two weeks ago Nate and I cleaned out the office — the tiny room our son will soon call home. We packed up all the books, files, paperwork and ridiculous amounts of crafting stuff, and hauled it downstairs. We spent a few hours organizing the basement (I am quite proud of my new laundry system, complete with six matching laundry baskets and signs instructing Nate on what goes where and how to wash it. Why we didn't think of this sooner, I do not know...), but we still have quite a bit of work to do down there. My goal is to turn our unfinished but clean basement into a livable office/crafting/laundry space. This will require help from professionals, including someone who can help redirect our heating ducts so it's not freezing down there, and the Comcast guy, who will have to set up our computer (Nate seems to think he can handle this task himself by snaking the internet cable from the second floor to the basement through our heating vents. Um, no.).

Although the office still houses our desk and computer, it looks like we've made some progress. Nate and I picked out some paint swatches (we're going with light blue) and piled all the baby stuff we've collected in the corner. We also picked up the chair we ordered for the nursery — it's super cute, incredibly comfortable, and completely dwarfs the room. Perfect! Here's hoping the crib and dresser fit...

This past weekend we spent all day Saturday cleaning. And we had a lot to clean, given that I hadn't even put my Christmas decorations away yet (don't worry, they weren't UP...they were piled on my dining room table. Which is much more acceptable at the end of February). Nate was such a trooper — together we got every room straightened up, dusted, and vacuumed. Normally, this would please me greatly. But right now it doesn't seem like enough to dust and vacuum the entire house. I want everything to be SUPER clean. And SUPER organized. I can't bring a baby home to a house with an unorganized junk drawer, or dust on top of the shelves in my closet. My nesting instincts became apparent on Saturday when Nate walked in on me windexing the perfume and cologne bottles in our medicine cabinet. Because that's the first thing the baby will judge me for, I'm sure. Wouldn't want him pointing out water spots on my perfume bottles.

So...I'm clearly turning crazy. Things are coming along, but I don't feel like they are. I feel panicked and unsure about how we'll ever find time to paint, organize, decorate, clean, shop, wash, etc. everything for this child. Nate works every other weekend, which means we have...uh, six weekends to work on this stuff before the baby comes. And that's assuming the baby comes on time, and not a month early or something. (Please God, no.)

My friend Jenny said all you really need to have a baby is boobs and diapers. Well, I've definitely got the boobs covered, and we have one pack of 40 newborn diapers. So as long as the baby is okay sleeping in the new chair and only poops 40 times, we should be good.

At least that's what I'll keep telling myself.

One more.

Just because I finally have a camera again, and Mattie is so darned cute.

Granted, this is probably right before she chewed on the couch cushion, or threw up on the rug.

Not so little anymore.

Me and the kiddo at 24 weeks. Pardon my very obvious bra lines.

If a picture is worth a thousand words...

...this will be a novel.

Mexico was sunny, and warm, and lots of fun. There were a million people down there this year, including all of Nate's immediate family (Mom, Dad, Nate, Abby, Mike, Jon, Mary, Kris, Callie and Grandma), our friends the Halls (Eric, Lisa, Laura, Jeff, Julie and Josh), our friends the Dysarts/Weilers (Mary, Nick and Amanda), and our friends the McKeags (Gary and Sarah). And then a few days later, Callie's entire family came down, along with a bunch of Kris and Callie's friends. It was an insane amount of people, but we had such a good time. Fun to see so many people we love for a week!

We ate a lot, and everyone but me drank a lot (luckily I discovered that a pina colada sin alcohol was almost as good as one con alcohol), and we all soaked up plenty of sun. But even after five full days of laying out, I was still declared the winner of the Casper contest (thanks, Kris). In my defense, I was not blessed with Mary Breyer's skin tone AND I had to abstain from tanning prior to vacation. So while everyone else had a nice base tan before they even got there (ask Jon about the diva tower), I showed up on the beach looking like exactly what I am: an Irish girl who lives in Minnesota.

Boo.

Get ready for a crazy amount of pictures from our trip. Now that I'm looking at them, I'm kind of mad that I'm here instead of there. And now you will be, too. :)

A little of this, a little of that.

Since it's a slow news day (yawn!), thought I'd share some random snippets of my life over the past few weeks. Nothing exciting, or history-making, or anything like that to talk about today. Here's hoping tomorrow will be more interesting, because today is a real bore.

Here's what we've been up to since discovering I am with male child:

1) We FINALLY got a new camera. You can expect a lot more photos in the coming months. I will try to post one of my ever-expanding mid-section soon. For some reason I'm not in a huge rush to share that photo.

2) Our bedding for the nursery arrived yesterday. It's so cute, I love it. We found a big red glider and ottoman over the weekend and hope to make a decision on the crib soon. Yay, progress!

3) Nate had to make his first late-night craving run for me. Butter pecan ice cream and waffle bowls. I didn't even know you could buy waffle bowls, but he found them, and they are good. What a guy.

4) Mattie has started chewing on the couch cushions. Hmm.

5) Damages is just as creepy and awesome as ever. TV is so good right now. Thankfully, since it's been about a billion below zero.

6) My clothes don't fit and I have nothing to wear on vacation next week. Nate and I decided to start packing Sunday night, and his stack of clothes was significantly larger than my own. There is something so wrong about this picture. Might be the first year I've been able to pack in one suitcase. I am anxiously awaiting a box of clothing from my friend Heidi.

7) I have a ginormous crush on the new Grey's doctor.

That's all.

We leave for a week in Mexico on Saturday, so expect a bunch of happy, sunny pictures and a lot of bragging when I get back.

Oh boy.

I have always wanted to have a daughter. A blonde, curly-haired, giggly little thing who would love wearing dresses and having tea parties. A little girl who would rock her dolls to sleep in my childhood baby doll bed, dress up all the Barbies I saved for her, and devour all the Nancy Drew books I've collected since I was a kid.

I knew going into this there was very little chance of us having a girl. Nate is one of four boys; his dad is one of three. Breyers just always seem to be boys. But I held on to the hope that God knew how much I wanted a little girl, and that it would be mean to send us a little boy when He knows how much I love to shop. (It's a fact, boy clothes just aren't as cute.)

But then four of my college friends had girls right in a row — in October, November, December, January. And I just knew that was the end of the road for my dream of having a girl. There was no possible way that five of us would all have girls. The pink streak had to stop somewhere, and I knew it would end with me.

Maybe that's why I started dreaming about having a little boy. I dreamt about his baby blue nursery — everything from the pattern on his sheets to the pictures on his walls. I dreamt about him sitting on the couch with his daddy, watching football (we have yet to determine whether he will be a Vikings or Bears fan). I dreamt about him chasing Mattie around the yard, grabbing her tail and giggling. I never saw his face in any of these dreams, but I could see what our life would be like with him in it.

The more I thought about having a boy, the more excited I became. Of course, there was still part of me that longed for a girl. But as I drove up to the clinic on Friday, all I could think was - I don't care. Please God, I just want a healthy baby.

"A healthy baby" is what every newly pregnant woman says when someone asks "Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?" It's the pc answer to that question, because you know there are no guarantees that you'll make it through your first trimester, or that your baby will be born without any birth defects or disabilities. Being the loud-mouthed person I am, I had no qualms about saying "GIRL!" whenever someone asked me that question. But over the course of my pregnancy, my maternal instincts began to kick in. Before that ultrasound, you worry about EVERYTHING. I worried that I wasn't feeling the baby move enough. I worried that they would find markers for down syndrome or that the baby would be missing a limb. I worried that the baby would be inexplicably ill and unlikely to survive. All things I know have happened to other mothers — other women with perfectly healthy bodies who never thought for a second those things would happen to their baby. And so the desire to have a girl over a boy became a total non-issue. All I wanted was a healthy baby.

Which he is. Our baby boy is beautiful, and healthy, and growing just as he should (though a little on the chunky side, go figure). Nate and I are both out of our minds with excitement. The moment we saw our little man up on that screen, we fell in love. And everything became very real. This bulging stomach of mine is home to our son, a little boy we love with all of our hearts and cannot wait to meet. A little boy I wouldn't trade for all the curly-haired girls in the world.

Thank you, God, for our healthy little one.

These are pictures of pictures; the tech warned us not to make copies or scan them. So, this is the best I can do for now! The first is his cute little profile, in the second one his little hands are up by his face, and in the third one he has one arm up above his head.

New year, new plan.

I'm an excellent resolution keeper. Which is why I am ridiculously skinny, have a spotless house, cook delicious meals every night for my husband, never forget to recycle, and maintain a lifestyle well within my financial means.

Jealous?

Everyone knows New Year's resolutions are total crap. Has anyone ever honestly believed that they would wake up on January 2 and magically be self-motivated and totally organized?

Setting unrealistic expectations for yourself is downright unhealthy. New Year's resolutions — which, let's face it, are ALWAYS unrealistic — lead to nothing more than false hope (a few days of believing you can do something you can't), crippling guilt (when you fail to meet your goals), and bitter disappointment in yourself (and your inability to choose the gym over the comfort of your couch).

I refuse to put myself through that kind of mental anguish in honor of a new year. That's just no way to celebrate. So instead, I am going to make a list of realistic resolutions for 2009 — things I'm certain I CAN accomplish.

In 2009, I vow to:

1) Chew lots of gum. I may even work my way through all of the Orbit flavors, but make no promises. I'll start with bubblemint.

2) Sit on the couch and watch Gossip Girl every Monday night until the baby comes. It's important to stay in touch with the younger generation, especially now that I'm bringing a child into the world.

3) Go over at least 1,000 miles before getting an oil change. And then ask Nate to take it in for me.

4) Make at least four boxes of Kraft mac and cheese per month and eat them all myself.

5) Spend way too much time watching Law & Order reruns on TNT. Clank clank.

6) Throw my clothes on the floor next to our bed every night, and leave them there until it's time to do laundry or we have visitors - so at least two weeks.

7) Keep shopping for clothes, despite the economic slowdown and the fact that most clothes no longer fit me.

8) Maintain my theory that "cleanish" is good enough for guests.

9) Check email and facebook obsessively while completely ignoring my cell phone.

10) Take advantage of the McDonald's drive thru for breakfast once a week.

I think that's enough. There's really only so much self-improvement a girl can tackle in one year.