Prayer Request

People, tonight when you crawl into bed and say your nighttime prayers, think of me and Doug. The terrible 2s (times 2 plus 1 infant on the way) are upon us. Yesterday, I got a sneak peak of what may be in store for our future.

The boys' room is upstairs, so when they wake up, I get them out of their cribs, and they walk downstairs. Used to, I'd carry them, but they've turned into little hoss cats (a biggun, for those of you who do not speak hillbilly) and I can no longer do that. Not to mention, my ever growing belly and my ever lack of grace, are also impediments.

So anyhow, the boys now walk down the stairs by themselves (or more accurately, scoot on their butts). Well, yesterday morning Jonas (as his alter ego JoNASTY) decided that he wanted to be carried. Ladies and gentlemen, a darkness then inhabited my child and the demon cut a shine (translation: threw a fit) the likes of which I had never seen. You should've heard the noises coming out of this kid. I swear it was straight up Regan MacNeil. I wouldn't have been surprised if he would've flipped upside down and spider walked down the stairs. 

He sounded like Lucifer was using him as his vessel, and he looked like he was doing some weird break dancing maneuver on the landing.

He woke up his dad. 

I gave up and went on downstairs with Julian, left that mess with Doug. 

Jules and I were sitting on the floor, playing with cars, drinking milk and eating muffins, watching

The Bear after he had calmed down. Look at that face!

GEORGE! (Curious George), and having a good ole time. In the background, we could hear Jonasty still protesting having to come downstairs on his own; however, he had made it to the second landing. Progress. The ole hateful thing finally made it to the living room where us happy folks were already enjoying our morning. He sniffled a bit, and then crawled into my lap (this is where he tries to make you forget what he just did), looked up at me, and smiled. Rotten kid.

But honestly, what the hell are you supposed to do to stop such outbursts? I don't know other than to pray they stop! 

It's a Girl!

Yeah, yeah, I realize this is old news to most everyone on the planet who knows me, but maybe someone out there in blog world doesn't know that I am having a little girl! She's going to make things interesting around here (cause you know, they're so incredibly dull as is).

Three important things we've already discussed:

• She will come into the world a proud owner of a vintage (circa 1986) University of Kentucky Wildcats cheerleading outfit, once worn by yours truly.
• Doug told me that I had to be the one to give her the talk about her menstrual cycle. Why on earth he thought I would let him deliver that speech, I will never know. "Uh, you see, daughter, once a month some stuff will happen with your girl stuff. I don't want to talk about it, but it happens. I just thought I'd let you know. It's not a big deal, but women act like it is. You know how they are."
• Dacian already feels sorry for future boys who Baby Girl will bring home to meet Dad. The poor boy will first have to be vetted by 2 older brothers. If he is strong enough to withstand that, he will meet Daddy Doug. This classic quote from Cher's Dad in Clueless comes to mind: Anything happens to my daughter, I've got a .45 and a shovel. I doubt anybody will miss you.

I love that I am 22 weeks pregnant and she's already a teenager.