New Friends and Old Ones

This past weekend we spent some time with new friends and old friends, which, I have concluded, is pretty awesome for the soul (who needs chicken soup).

We had a Park BBQ with the Kennedy's, which if you are translating that into Barnard language it means: this is as close to camping as we ever get.

We brought some meat, charcoal, and sides and fired up the grills at the park. Despite it being June in Texas, we got some amazing weather which allowed us to be outside without melting to death. While the men prepared the meat, the kiddos played, and Amanda and I swapped birth stories (I'm loving me some birth stories right now). 

Amanda- I know you're thrilled I took this picture of you.

After stuffing our faces we enticed the kiddos to hang around and help make s'mores. Grace was down as long as chocolate and marshmallows could be eaten anytime she desired.

And, boy, did those s'mores exceed expectations. Holy yumminess. Does this picture make you tear up with joy? It should, that sucker was delicious.

We're hoping the weather cooperates more so we can have more "camping" dinners in the future. All are welcome, and there will be s'mores.

On Sunday we were reunited with some of our favorite people. Way back in college, when Aaron and I were in school we spent many a night with James and Tayci. Young and poor we shared lots of meals over tupperware tables. And by meals, I mean, Totinos pizzas. And we spent many late nights playing games and hanging out. Four years later we found ourselves, once again, living in the same place. They came out to Dallas for a brief 10 week internship, and we jumped on the opportunity to hang out and relive the glory days.

Since the last time we saw each other we have added enough kids to the mix to warrant a "kids table." Noah and Grace are about 3 months apart and hit it off big time.

We were also able to meet 6 week old Miles, who definitely filled the we-really-want-to-hold-newborns-right-now void. After trying a few different positions, and Miles not digging any of them, Aaron found a sweet spot. Don't let his concerned face fool you, Miles was out in seconds in this position. We all got a good laugh out of it. Look at those arm rolls, aren't they heavenly?

It wasn't long before I had to get my hands on that babe. It was a little awkward to hold him standing up.

 So we opted for a seated/laying down position. Miles giving Baby Barnard some lovin'.

We have come a long way since college. We went from this:

To this. Although I'm not sure we have matured all that much...

We are desperately hoping that the Partridge's choose to come back to Dallas once James is done with school. Until then, we'll take them for 10 weeks.

Thoughts on Pregnancy: 37 weeks

34 weeks

35 weeks

 36 weeks 

(same shirt as above..woot)

 37 weeks

-Does my belly seemed to have popped between weeks 36 and 37, or am I just seeing things? This is coming from a woman who swore she had a "bump" at 14 weeks so I'm pretty good at seeing things that aren't really there.

-I have had weekly appointments since 35 weeks and have been checked for dilation 3 different times. Every time the answer is the same: Zero progress. Zero dilation. Baby boy seems a little too content to hang out in there. I really should stop feeding him so well.

-Having between 30-60 Braxton Hicks contractions a day will not help you dilate. I was desperately holding out hope that there was a reason I was getting so many and I would go into labor early. Unfortunately, based off of the above statement, the BH contractions have done absolutely nothing. Bummer.

-I honestly can't remember a night where I didn't wake up 3-4 times to go to the bathroom. I'm starting to think that waking up with a baby won't be so bad since I won't really remember what it is like to have a full nights rest (silver lining, am I right?).

-Around 35 weeks I had a little scare, if you can call it that. For three days I could tell that the baby's movements were a lot less than they were normally. He would move here and there, but I was noticing that his movements were fewer and farther between. For the first two days I wrote it off. I could still feel him move occasionally and I didn't want to overreact (which I'm pretty good at doing). The third day of low movements happened to be the Friday before Memorial Day weekend. In the afternoon I found myself consuming a bag of Peanut Butter M&M's and a caffeinated beverage in hopes of getting Baby Boy to move. I wouldn't recommend that food and drink combination, it will for sure make you ill. At 2:00pm Aaron told me to call the doctor if I was concerned and see what he said. It would make for a long three day weekend if I was constantly worried about the baby's movements and well-being. I reluctantly called the doctor. Hesitant, purely because I didn't want to be pegged as a crazy pregnant lady. Which I should have known was out the window the moment I burst into tears outside the DMV (see last post). My doctor told me to come in and get an ultrasound. They didn't take low fetal movement too lightly. Being me I was 50% in control, and 50% a panicking lunatic. Every worst case scenario and "horror story" I've ever heard came rushing into my mind. Along with those thoughts were those of "I bet he's totally fine and this is so stupid that you're going." Mental Battle Royale. It made for a long drive to the doctor's office. In order to avoid mental internal combustion I told myself over and over "I'd rather feel stupid than sorry." I'd rather feel stupid for going and having him be fine, than not going and having something be wrong. After waiting in the waiting room, they were able to find some time and squeeze me in with the ultrasound technician. She could tell immediately that Baby Boy was completely fine and doing well. (Insert rush of gratitude and huge sigh of relief here). She took more measurements and tracked his heart rate. She even took more 3D images of his face with his hand curled up by his lips. She concluded that he was moving less since he had found a spot that he liked and was comfortable and content. I was embarrassed for overreacting, but was reassured by both the technician and my doctor that I did the right thing in the situation. Plus, I'll take more "sneak peeks" of my boy any day. I can't wait to shower that face with kisses. I guess I'm just further solidifying my crazy pregnant woman status...

-Now that I know he has settled in a spot, I have noticed that his movements are different. When I lay on my side on my bed, he loves to run his feet between me and the mattress. Or he uses the mattress as a launch pad to bounce around. His feet move from my right side up underneath my chest. I always feel the his hiccups near my left hip (where his back is).

-In recent days I have noticed that Grace has become very clingy to me. I don't know if it is just a phase, or if she can tell that things in our family are about to change. I tend to read too much into things so I think it is the latter, but even if it isn't I'm loving her new found cuddliness and want for her Mama.

-The days are winding down quickly yet they seem to drag on forever. I can't wait to hold this sweet boy in my arms.

The DMV

When we first moved to Texas I was reluctant to go to the DMV. Grace was 13 months old, and I was avoiding the whole "license change" excursion like the plague. Weeks went by and I couldn't avoid it anymore. I drove around for 20 minutes in the shopping center that claimed to house the DMV. Everything was in Korean and I thought for sure I was in the wrong place. Finally, finally, I found it. Already annoyed and aggravated I had a feeling this little excursion wasn't going to be my favorite. I filled out the necessary paper work and stood in line for 45 minutes. I was a ball of sweat stressing about Grace and whether or not she was misbehaving. Finally it was my turn. I handed over my old license, passport, and proof of address. They took my picture, did not smile back when I smiled at them, and gave me a piece of paper to "check the information for correctness." I scanned briefly and noticed that they had my middle name wrong. I pointed out the error. To which I was told that they use the information from my passport and my passport had my old middle name. I said, but my previous license issued by the state of California had my correct middle name, response "That doesn't matter." I was beyond frustrated annoyed and my sweat glands were in overdrive so I said "Screw it." and I left. I could fix it later.

I felt like a felon, or something, having 75% of my information under one name and 25% of it in the other. My credit cards and license didn't match, although it was merely a letter difference, and I thought for sure someone would think I was stealing an identity or trying to get away with something shady. Time ticked forward and before I knew it a year had gone by. I really needed to get this thing taken care of. I gathered all of the necessary government issued paperwork, and then some. I had a bag filled with proof of my identity and I finally built up enough courage to brave the DMV again. Two things went very wrong that day: 1.) I got lost and wound up at the wrong place on my first attempt, only to realize that I didn't even have my paperwork with me even if I had gone to the right place, and 2.) I had gotten pregnant weeks earlier and the hormones were a ragin'.

After a quick drive back home, and a re-route to the correct location I walked into the DMV, to my astonishment there was barely anyone in there. I told my "issue" to the woman at the desk so she could give me the appropriate waiting number. After some confusing banter we finally got on the same page. "My name is wrong on my license. But I have my marriage certificate and Social Security card to prove that my middle name needs to be changed." Lady: "Well, we only base our information off of your passport." Me: "My passport was issued two years before I was married, and it hasn't expired. So here is my marriage certificate." Lady: "That doesn't matter." Me: "But my name was correct on my California issued license." Lady: "We do things differently in the state of Texas. In order to get your name changed on your license you have to get your passport changed." Me: "How can I change my passport if my driver's license says the wrong name?!" I was so done. I told the lady I would deal with it, grabbed Grace's hand and promptly walked outside where I burst into tears. No, not tears, I started sobbing. The heaving kind where you're gulping in air. I called Aaron and sobbed. I knew I was being overly hormonal and totally ridiculous but the sobs came in between words like "They are so mean" sob....sniffle....gulp in air...."I hate the DMV" more sobs....wipe nose...more air gulps. Aaron "It's okay sweetie, we'll figure this out." Once the sobbing died down I desperately wanted to drive to my sisters house and mope, but I chose the Monday after she moved away to go the the DMV. So, instead, Grace and I drove to In-N-Out and had ourselves a burger filled pity party.

I put everything ID related on the back burner, my mental stability was just not having it. Finally, Aaron and I got the necessary paperwork filled out and sent into the Passport office. My name would be correct (finally) in the eyes of the state of Texas. Six weeks later I had that sucker in my hands and all I needed to do was go to the blasted DMV. 

Attempt #1: FAIL- I walked up to the DMV, saw hoards of people standing outside, took one look at the amount of people inside, then turned around and went home.

With less than 4 weeks until this baby is due, I didn't want there to be any unnecessary complications with the baby's birth certificate, or hospital registration. It was now or never. Aaron told me that he heard the best days to go are Tuesdays and Thursdays. Thursday was a particularly rainy day and I convinced myself "No one goes to the DMV when it's raining." I had my passport and paperwork collected and ready to go. I took time packing snacks. I downloaded two kids shows and packed earbuds for Grace. I went at 10:00am, this would be cake.

I balanced my purse, paperwork, umbrella, and Grace through the rain and stepped confidently into that dang DMV. It. Was. Packed. I talked to the front desk and they printed out my number. They were so nice and said "I hope this won't be another nightmare-ish experience for you." I smiled (yes, I smiled while at the DMV) and looked for a seat. 

A beam of light came down on the one seat that was available. I almost cried at the sight of it, and seated next to the open seat were two Grandpas, two of the nicest men on the planet. Grace sat on my lap (or what is left of my lap), and watched her shows. I was going to make it through this experience, I could do it. So we sat, and sat, and sat, and the numbers called weren't anywhere near our number. People came and people went, and it got more and more crowded. Grace and I made two separate bathroom breaks. She watched her shows a few times, she played near my feet, and I could tell she was starting to get antsy. 2 hours and 15 minutes later they called our number. We stood for a few minutes at our station. Name change: check, Address change: check, New picture: check (unfortunately my face at 8 months pregnant is forever solidified on my license). Fee paid. Thank you's spoken. And we were free. Arrived at 10:18am, left at 12:39pm, 2 hours 21 minutes total, and I didn't cry once.

It felt like a weight had been lifted, and my mere survival without any trace of mental breakdowns had me on cloud nine. This time we headed to In-N-Out for a celebration lunch, no pity parties here.

With everything now tied up nicely with a silver bow, I hope I never, ever have to go to the DMV again. Is that too much to ask?

Showered

Last weekend, four fabulous women took on the task of throwing me and Baby Boy Barnard a baby shower. Caryn, Bridget, Kinsey, and Andrea- you are saints.

Please take notice that I am the first, and only person bum-rushing the food table. My "eating for two" excuse is just about to expire, I need to utilize it as much as humanly possible.

I was really excited for the shower so I could get together with some of my favorite ladies and have some serious girl talk.

 The food was pretty fabulous so I think they were excited to be there as well. Right ladies?

We played some hysterical games.

And I opened a plethora of gifts- it's safe to say that Baby Boy's wardrobe is set for months. I will never cease to be amazed by the kindness and thoughtfulness of others.

While I was busy swooning over tiny clothing (who knew baby boy clothes could be so much fun?), these three ladies were hard at work folding and saving this tissue paper. Too funny.

I also got to participate in my first bump-to-bump picture. Christy and I were due 2 weeks apart, although since this picture was taken, Christy has since given birth. Welcome Tate Nicole!

We got Julie in on the bump picture action since her twin boys were due (via adoption) in early June. Her boys were also born shortly thereafter, welcome Caleb and Joshua. Julie and Christy totally left me in the dust, still awaiting my little man. Thanks a lot ladies ;). Glad we all got a last minute bump picture together.

I can't even begin to express my gratitude for the hostesses and all those who showered me with love. You all are amazing and I can't wait for Baby Boy to get here to utilize all of our spoils.

Funny Faces

When we were younger my parents required us to kids to all wash our hands before dinner. Sometimes we would sit at the table and my Mom or Dad would say "Did you wash your hands?" Which was probably followed by a lengthy sigh and one if not all of the kids heading to the bathroom sink to get our scrubbing on. Occasionally (read: always) we would get distracted and take about 25 minutes to execute the task. My Dad would always say, "Quit making funny faces in the mirror." or "I bet he/she is in there making funny faces." More often than not the funny face making culprit was my brother (sorry Matt). But as a kid the funny faces you make in the mirror really are pretty entertaining.

My Dad will be glad to know that the funny face making continues in the walls of my home still. And I am proud to say that Grace takes after her Mama in her face making abilities, and I couldn't be more proud. In case you are wondering, Grace is wearing a swimsuit and 9 times out of 10 that is her normal attire when we're in our apartment.

 This last picture is by far my favorite.

It warms my heart to know that if Grace were ever asked to wash her hands at my parents house, she would totally get distracted and make funny faces in the mirror, leading my Dad to call her out and say "Quit making funny faces." Sometimes the best traits really do get passed on.

I Turned 26

I was born 26 years ago and I have come to the conclusion that 26 sounds a whole lot less cool than 25.  But regardless, my "late twenties" started off on the best foot possible. Aaron took the day of my birthday off from work. Best present ever. Not to mention that with the Memorial Day holiday, he had a solid five day weekend. It was amazing.

We rocked Costa Vida for lunch, and the Cheesecake Factory for dinner, using our Cheesecake Factory spoils as birthday cake before the present opening began. Grace really jumped on the celebration band-wagon and was all about the cake, candle, and present opening.

Spending all day together as a family was an incredible way to celebrate. I was spoiled by my parents and Aaron's parents, and Aaron blew up my Kindle with 4 books I've been dying to read. It was pure bliss on every front and I am one seriously lucky girl.

Happy 26

Reunited at the Zoo

Have you ever met someone that you just click with, instantaneously, and you think to yourself, "This person is way too good to be true." When I was in college a girl named Rachel sat next to me in one of my classes. A conversation was started at some point, and then the talking never stopped. We would run into each other on campus and talk so long that we both ended up missing the class that we were initially planning on going to. We ended up having a few classes together, and we made mighty plans to have our husbands meet and hang out outside of campus, but those plans never panned out. Sure enough at some point, we parted ways. We have kept in touch through emails, texts, and our blogs. Nothing terribly consistent (I'm pretty lousy at long-distance communication), but enough to stay in contact.

A few months ago Rachel and her husband, Eric, moved to Oklahoma for Eric's job. She had mentioned that in order to get to Costco they had to drive to Fort Worth. I was all over that like white on rice. I told her the next time she was in Fort Worth, she best give me a call. A few weeks later a little gem popped up in my inbox. Rachel was coming to Fort Worth. We were going to party.

Our rendezvous point was the Fort Worth Zoo. Grace and I haven't been since her birthday last year, but Grace was in hog heaven checking out all of the animals.

Plenty of gasps, and screams and "Mommy let's see more animals" were heard throughout the zoo.

Rachel and I picked up right where we left off, catching up with the more intricate details of our lives, and how we came to be where we are now. You would never have thought the last time we saw each other was four years ago. Rachel is one of my friend-soul-mates. Yes, I made that up. Yes, I swear they exist. Grace was a pretty big fan of Rachel as well, and required no "warming up" time before she was ready to BFF it up with her.

I'm pretty sure Rachel received "you are the coolest" status when she took Grace into the bird atrium and let her hold a bird-seed stick to feed the birds. Sister friend carried that stick around all day long.

There is a RainForest Cafe in one of the malls nearby. Grace begs us to take her to see the fake crocodile outside of the restaurant. As soon as we get close, Grace loses her nerve and begs us not to take her any closer to the crocodile, panicking as if her life was hanging in the balance. However, at the zoo, she was mere inches away from an actual crocodile the size of a pick-up truck and she shed no tears, nor panicked in any form or fashion. But the foam mechanical one at the mall? Hysterics. We'll work on it.

About two hours later we had only seen about half of the zoo, but I was hot, my feet were swollen and I cried Uncle and told Rachel I had to bail. We drove a few miles down the road to Smash Burger, because let's be honest, this Baby Boy loves his burgers. I am salivating at the thought. Out of all of the Burgers I've had, Smash Burger tied for the number 1 spot. For reals.

 In the late afternoon we finally said our goodbyes and set up plans for their next visit to Texas. It's going to be grand.