The Baby Hypothesis

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I’ve decided I’m going to begin blogging (occasionally) on the various things I’m learning while living in LaGrange, GA. Let me first say that none of these things are meant in an offensive way. JRB and I love LaGrange and its people. These observations only serve as… observations and are solely meant to be silly. Even though, let’s be real, these observations are 100 percent truth. I’m also not certain that these observations are just a small town thing. I’d say they’re “Southern.” Let’s begin with numero uno (that’s not Southern at all)-

Even if children aren’t in the picture, conversation always comes back to childbirth. 

Obviously, when JRB and I got engaged and then married, having a family was discussed. We discussed how many children we want to have and how long we want to wait.

(This conversation is absolutely hilarious to me since in no form, shape, way, or fashion can we ever really plan that. Who really decided that THIS is the time they want to have a baby, and then it actually happens in that time frame? If that’s you, please don’t come too close to me because I don’t want to catch your mega-fertility.)

However, I’ve noticed the following:

1. The longer you’re married without children, the more they are brought up.

2. The longer you’re alive, the more childbirth is brought up.

JRB and I are getting close to our 2-year anniversary which only means one thing- it’s now not remotely shocking if I get pregnant. People who get pregnant within the first two years always surprise us a little, right? I’m not saying you’re wrong for having a baby early- good for you! But no one ( as in us your wedding guests) is fully expecting a baby that quickly. However, at the two year mark… It’s game on. You can’t get sick, feel sick, or look sick without someone wanting to know if you’re pregnant. Oh, and if I am oddly more hungry than usual. Heavens to Betsy! There must be a baby, right? Wrong.

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When we first moved to Lagrange about a year and a half ago, we quickly found a church and got involved. Much to my surprise, these people actually liked us and invited us places. Sometimes to their houses; sometimes to a restaurant; and a lot of times to their baby showers. I had never been to many baby showers, but now I feel like a pro. (PLEASE let’s play baby shower games so I can impress you with my baby knowledge.) 
It wasn’t always like this, however. I remember it like it was yesterday. I had been invited to my first LaGrange baby shower, and I was crazy nervous! I didn’t know these people that well, and I really didn’t want to screw up the gift. 
(Lesson learned- a diaper genie is ALWAYS a good choice.)
So I showed up and desperately cling to the few women I know. Then something odd happened. We began discussing childbirth and “baby things.” As the conversation turned to episiotomies and nipple creams, I not-so-slowly felt my face began to get hot. What the what?? The doctor takes what instrument and puts it where? You mean there is a career in breast feeding? I learned more in my first baby shower then I EVER did in high school health class. Maybe we need pregnant women to visit high schools. Then maybe our teenage pregnancy rate would lower, because they scared this girl half to death. 
Convinced I was adopting every single one of my children, I returned home to share my experience with my lovely husband. 
(Here are some things you should know about JRB- He’s the youngest. Wasn’t around many babies growing up. And never took an interest to babies. If anything, they may scare him a tad. Still working through that.)
As I shared about the various products that do weird things to a pregnant woman’s body and the odd things that happen to pregnant women’s bodies, I began to watch my handsome, strong husband slip into an uncomfortable, vegetative state. Very quickly, he informed me that he’d like to “cross that bridge when [he] came to it.”
Scarred from my first baby shower, I shied away from the next few I was invited to. Little did I know that baby showers aren’t the sole place of childbirth conversation. It happens everywhere. First, you’re in small group talking about the Apostle Paul. Next, you’re talking about how so-and-so’s arm was numb this morning. Stupid sciatic nerve. First you’re enjoying a lovely girls’ night drinking coffee with creamer. Then you quit drinking the creamer because you’re talking about breast milk. You get the picture. 
I suspect the reason is because at any point in time, someone I know is pregnant or just had a baby. I’ve grown out of my awkward phase and am now accepting that this is a blessing. EVENTUALLY, kids will be in the picture for us, and I’m going to be SO prepared. And for anything I don’t know, I have a long list of Sunday School/ Bible study/ Former co-workers I can call that are experts on the subject. Don’t worry, friends in large cities who never see babies, I’ll be your phone-a-friend. 
(I’ve included pictures of me with some of my favorite babes to prove to you that I do, in fact, love kiddos.)
(They all just so happen to be girls… GIRL POWER!!)
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Weekend Update: Food Edition

Want to know what we did this weekend? We ate. That’s really about it. Something I’ve found JRB and I are very, very good at is EATING. It doesn’t matter the ethnicity, flavor, setting, or mood- we can always grub.

Friday, JRB wasn’t feeling well. (I think we’re just trading sickness around here.) So instead of a date night out in the metropolis (LOL- like Lagrange is a metropolis), we stayed in, ate Asia slaw, studied for Sunday school, and watched A. LOT. of How I Met Your Mother.

ImageThank goodness, JRB was feeling a little better on Saturday, because we had big plans (well, relatively big plans). Earlier in the week, JRB proposed the idea of going to this NAIA wrestling tournament, and I JUMPED at the chance.

(Ok. That’s such a lie. I didn’t jump at the chance. I had to be wooed.)

(By wooed, I mean JRB promised me a brunch with my bff Camilla, a trip to Ballard Designs, and a good dinner. What can I say? I’m a girl of simple taste- food and interiors).

So off we went to the Atlanta (the real metropolis in the blog post). We enjoyed brunch with Camilla and her fella (Of course, I didn’t take pictures because I’m a bonehead.) and spent a solid hour wandering around Ballard.  I wish I could say JRB loved every minute of discussing lighting options, fabrics, and art, but that would be a TOTAL lie. And I don’t lie on this blog.

Because brunch is never enough, we decided to have a light lunch before entering the wrestling tournament at Life University. Try not to laugh too hard at our food of choices.

ImageWhole30, what? Paleo, who? Ladies and gentlemen, there are times when it’s nice to eat organic, whole foods. And then there are times when all you need is preservatives and Girl Scout cookies. I’m in a preservatives and Girl Scout cookies phase. Judge away.

ImageIn true elementary school lunch style, I traded my Crunch bar to JRB for his Airhead. I completely believe this was an uneven trade because in my book, chocolate ALWAYS trumps AirHeads, but marriage is about compromise and sacrifice. And that’s just what I did.

We finished the day out by some shopping (Old Navy was having a sale on their exercise gear, so guess who got 2 new pairs of pants a workout top?! Check me out at BodyPump tonight.) and a great dinner at Pappasito’s Cantina.

As usual, our Sunday was extremely chill. We went to Sunday School, ate lunch, took mega-naps, and ate dinner with some of our best Lagrange friends.

We ended the night, as usual, with some puppy love. (I’m a little embarrassed at how long this belly rub lasted.)

silly samHappy Monday, friends! Can you believe it’s my birthday week? (That’s right. I get a week, not just a day. JRB tried to argue this, but he’ll NEVER win.)

Mulan My Comfort

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After fighting it and fighting it, I finally gave in to being a wimp yesterday. Lately, I’ve been nauseated a lot. (No, I’m not pregnant. Don’t even.)

(And why is it that the moment you get married, all of sudden you can’t just be sick anymore? It’s always because you’re pregnant. #newlywedproblems)

I felt so badly driving back from Auburn, that I did several things I haven’t done in a long time.

I bought a Coke.

I know that’s just about the lamest thing I’ve ever said (or typed), but I just don’t drink Coca Cola. However, my pediatrician growing up told me that carbonated beverages made a nauseous stomach feel better, so I caved. And may have even drank two.

It didn’t work.

Then I did something that is the number one indicator that I’ve had a no good, really bad, terrible day (or feel just plain crummy), I asked for Mulan. That’s right. My comfort is curling up on the couch with Mulan playing on the tv. I was so desperate that I asked JRB, as I was getting off my exit, to have a warm place on the couch and Mulan ready for me. He didn’t disappoint.

I barely made it to Mulan’s run-in with the matchmaker before I was OUT. A nap, some Sprite, some Settlers and a JRB-made funfetti cake was the medicine I needed.

Birthday

Want to know what holiday only children love more than Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween, and the Fourth of July combined? Our birthdays. Call me bratty. I don’t care. But for this only child, birthdays were always special. And when I say birthday, I mean Birth.DAY. It goes from midnight to midnight- no exceptions. So, in the spirit of my birthday coming up, here are some exceptionally fun birthday things I found.

ImageSo what if I’m not 2 years old and the idea of a funfetti cake is making me drool?

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On a serious note, these hand-stitched birthday cards are swoon worthy.

I’m LOL’ing at Ellen’s gift to Oprah.

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But for real. A cookie-lover like myself may drop dead upon sight of this goodness.

birthday4Rifle Paper Co. NEVER disappoints.

These weekend getaways scream Happy Birthday.

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Little boy Blake has to be the luckiest, most awesome kid in the world.

birthday6Let’s be real. All I really want this birthday is for JRB and I to switch places with these lovelies in Greece. Oh, I’m kidding…. Sort’ve.

The real way to make a birthday special isn’t about the gift, ya know? It’s all about the experience.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

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Things I love about my Valentine: 

Sense of humor | Knowledge of all obscure articles | Ability to function on minimal hours of sleep | Disdain for complaining (therefore, he never complains) | Love for the Lord | Memory of all characters’ names for any movie he’s ever seen | Wears fun socks | Doesn’t mind unloading the dishwasher | Disciplines our dogs | Drives the vast majority of time | Desires reconciliation (even if it’s 2 a.m.) | Love for the outdoors | But can be the biggest couch potato ever

Things I’ve learned about my Valentine:

Likes bananas and peanut butter, but never touching | Is infuriated by injustice | Hates cold water | Takes long showers | Accepts the challenge of eating or drinking anything classified as “gross”

Happy Valentine’s Day! We don’t usually celebrate in a grand way (just dinner). However, yesterday when JRB called me (this is after I thought he was dead) he said, “So… just making sure, but we’re not buying each other anything are we? My response: “No, but I did just buy myself a pair of earrings.”

How do you celebrate Valentine’s Day? Do you go all out it? Or are you more like us and just enjoy a good meal (insert fat joke here)?