pretty in pink

Matt and I had the opportunity to experience something wonderful together this week.

No, it wasn't a trip to Hershey, PA where we ate our weight in chocolate at the factory (that was only a dream). Nor did we receive notice from Matt's place of business that, due to his outstanding work performance, they decided to graciously double his salary [though, he did actually receive a small raise recently, praise God!].

This experience was even better. Right up there close to the day I married the cute redhead with glasses.

On Wednesday, we discovered our lives will soon be blessed with a darling baby girl. [Let's hear it for the Pink Team!] As all soon-to-be parents, our main desire is for our growing baby to simply be a healthy newborn. But the selfish part of us sometimes also hopes for a particular gender. You can count me amongst this selfish group. I was totally rooting for the Pink Team. Would I have been just as happy if the ultrasound technician had pointed to some barely visible thing on the TV screen resembling boy parts and said, "Looks like a boy!"? Well, of course! Boy or girl, this child is and will be loved just the same. Even so, I am so thrilled and honored to hold this precious girl within me.

We wanted to have a little fun on our ultrasound day, so we wore these shirts in jest:



I don't think it began to sink in until after the ultrasound was complete that this baby (who we no longer have to refer to as an "it") is a girl. It had been almost six weeks since we last saw our sweet girl via ultrasound, so I am always anxious to see that she is doing well. I said a quick prayer just before the technician started that the tiny child inside of me would be doing well. That prayer was answered, and now I have to be faithful for four more weeks until the next one that God will watch over her in a way that I am unable to.

I did a little dance when we stepped out of the ultrasound room. Matt calls this the "Misty dance". The ultrasound was finished, and I could finally let it sink in that in four months (or less), I will be holding a tiny bundle of pink bliss in my arms. Completely amazing.

After we left the doctor's office, our first stop was baby GIRL clothes shopping! We each picked out an outfit for Natalie.

Here was Matt's choice:



Since I was a young girl, when I always thought about my future, the vast part of that vision included a husband and children. I have wanted to be a wife and mother my entire life. I recall a time in college when I had the realization that it truly didn't matter what I did with my life career-wise. Some people define themselves by what they do for a living. And that's ok, if that is what they desire. I realized then (and it still holds true today) that I wanted my life to be defined by the kind of wife and mother I am, and by how I represent who and what I believe. Family has and always will be more important to me than some outstanding, respectable career could ever be. In other words, I want to work to live, not live to work.

With that being said, our growing girl is definitely one of the biggest blessings in my life, and it is truly a humbling experience that God has allowed me the privilege to be her mother and to be the one to help usher her into life. I know raising a child will be no walk in the park. Brandi, who is such a sweet and dear friend, is the mother of three children who are all 5 and under, and constantly reminds me of this. Ha! However, I just cant help but sit here and get lost in the thought of how beautiful it will be to see our little girl smile and laugh. I think that is what I look forward to the most. Children have the most heart warming smiles and laughter.

I could go on and on (imagine that!), but I will stop with one final thing. During the five years we dated, Matt and I often talked and dreamed of our future life together and the children we would share. We picked out a boy and a girl name before we were even engaged! Now that those dreams are a reality, we are able to put one of those names to use. Our baby girl will be Natalie Elisabeth. Natalie was chosen simply because we like the name, and it is a family name on Matt's side. Elisabeth is how Elizabeth is spelled in German and was chosen in honor of my German grandmother who affectionately goes by "Elsie". My grandmother has one of the sweetest hearts of anyone on this earth, and though she has nothing, she would give all of herself if you needed it. I am so happy that a part of my grandmother will live on in Natalie even after my mammaw is no longer with us.

And thus begins the pink mayhem of clothing, nurseries, wash clothes, and bows in our little (but expanding!) family. Don't worry, if you know me, you know I will still manage to get some blue thrown in as much as possible!

one man's junk is still just junk

It's no secret.

I am a hoarder. I hoard everything. Books, plastic bags, papers, craft supplies, nail polish, lotions, cards, clothes in a million sizes - everything.

The friend who was supposed to be our guestbook / program attendant at our wedding was a no show, so most people didn't receive a wedding program, which means I still have over 100 of them. What am I going to do with 100 wedding programs? Nevertheless, they are here.

And my biggest ... receipts. I believe receipts spawn from other receipts in our house. They appear in the strangest places, yet I insist every one of them be kept.

Before a recent visit from my parents that I was unaware of until the day before their expected arrival, my mom remarked, ''I know you are a slob. We are used to it. You don't have to clean for us,'' when I remarked that I hadn't cleaned the house yet.

I would like to think that ''slob'' is just a less fancy word for ''hoarder''. The truth is, when my sweet husband helped me clean out my bedroom and pack before we got married, we threw away at least 11 garbage bags full of junk - remnants of 26 years worth of hoarding.

I used to call my style ''organized clutter''. However, I think the organized part went out the window ages ago.

I am unsure of when all of this began for me, but I do recall hoarding things as a child. Does anyone remember Lisa Frank stickers and school supplies? Here is a picture I found online to remind you ...



I always thought Lisa Frank stuff was SO COOL! I remember conserving my stickers and pencils. I would use up other stuff not as cool as Lisa Frank items, but I lost interest before I ever used most of any of it. I was like this with other things as well. Craft sets for kids, such as those sand sculpture kits where you could layer different colors of sand in plastic bottles. I would be sure and not use it all up at once to make it last. Yet again, many years later when I was clearing stuff off a shelf in the closet, there was the majority of the sand sculpture kit saved up for a future use that never came.

As part of my hoarder mentality, I truly am a slob too. I have always hated chores (don't most people?), and I am sure my parents got tired of constantly nagging me to clean my room, empty the dishwasher or whatever the case may be. I have perfected the notion of putting things off as long as possible. It is good that we have guests every now and then, otherwise, our house would be disastrous more often.

Despite my slobby hoarding nature, I do admire and enjoy when the house is all cleaned up. It somehow creates a more relaxing environment. A sense of pride comes along with being a homeowner or at least living in a space that you (and/or your spouse) are solely responsible for. And I find myself now concerned with things related to keeping the house clean that I used to think my parents were silly for caring about. Chores don't seem to be quite the headache they used to be.

I still hate cleaning toilets.

And I still have to keep my receipts.

Some things just won't change.

human butterball

When I first took this picture of our gray fuzz ball (also known as Stacy), my first thought was, ''Does this fur make my butt look big?''

Stacy was probably busy lounging and dreaming of Temptations Treats and sharpening her claws on the nearest rug (and of course, ice cubes - her #1 obsession). The last thing on her mind was the potential of having a big kitty gut - after all, she could always blame it on the fur, right?

I have heard pregnant women complain before about their baby bumps making them look and feel 'fat'. Before I earned the status of 'pregnant woman', I often thought it seemed silly to feel that way when everyone knows your belly is being overtaken by another human at this time.

I can understand a little more now why these mothers-to-be feel this way -- it must be a complete shock to have unwanted weight on their bodies for (in some cases) the first time. These women are forced immediately into ''chubbyville'' without the usual running (and then walking, barely breathing) down the (non)graceful, long term path for years toward full on obesity. Of course, like I said, their new-found weight obviously is completely different from the blobby stuff that causes doctors to scald you with every lift of the fork at the dinner table.

For me, I am well acquainted with extra weight. It is nothing new to me to plop down on furniture and wonder if it is screaming back at you in agony. I know that rolls are not only something on the dinner table, and I learned the physics of friction during adolescence through thighs rubbing together while walking. Yes, I know fat and what it is to be fat.

I live it.

And yet - that massive number (can I even count that high?) on the scales seems to stay the same, or even decrease, despite the tiny 4.5 inch offspring inside of me. For the first time in my life, my belly is expanding without suffocating myself with cookie after cookie or making a donation to the gym (after all, it is a donation if you pay them money but don't use the facilities). The fact is, my belly will continue to get bigger for several more months, and for once, that makes me happy (when the pregnancy hormones don't make me feel ugly)!

So why even care about looking fatter when I am already in the making for a future Wal-Mart motorized scooter user? I really don't know except for the fact that it never feels good to look even more fat.

I have mostly been poking fun, but the truth is, I would rather look like the biggest human Butterball turkey every day for the rest of my life than to not have this little baby growing inside of me. So many women in the world today long to have children of their own but are unable to conceive, and when I think of the not so pleasant parts of pregnancy, I think of those women and how most of them would gladly deal with the worst parts of pregnancy if they could just have a child.

Pregnancy is not a right granted to us; it is a privilege and gift given to us directly by God. For that reason, everything we experience as a result of pregnancy - the good and the bad - is reason to give thanks back to God. At first, I was wishing away my ever-so-present sickness, but I have come to realize that this is a blessing (though not a fun one) instead of a curse. Due to already extreme weight, my weight gain during pregnancy needs to be very minimal. Getting sick often (and a lack of appetite) has kept my weight the same for the first four months. So basically, the crazy things baby has been causing to happen to my body have been helping me out. Hopefully that is a sign that baby will like helping other people. =)

So next time I ask Matt, ''Does this baby make me look fatter?'', he can remind me that (while yes, it does) the baby is just one of the many blessings God has granted us.

P.S. We find out in two weeks if we are team blue or team pink!