Monday, February 22, 2010

A little song is all it takes!

Brandon and I were working on homework this weekend and I was stressing out and worrying how I would stay on top of all my homework.  Brandon had been quietly working on his homework for about an hour and then he randomly broke into this primary song.  Here is the original, Brandon classic.

I love Esther 
She love me!
We love our baby
Yes sir-e
Baby kicks Esther in the tummy
And that makes Esther have to pee.


I ran to the bathroom and continued to laugh so hard I cried; I don't have full control over my bladder.  I couldn't help but smile and stress a little less.  Thanks Brandon!


Wednesday, February 10, 2010

A new Member


This time every year, I buy myself one of these plants.  They only bloom once, but they smell fantastic.  This year, Brandon helped me choose a pink one and he named it Penelope.  She was welcomed to the family, watered and placed on our window sill.  She bloomed four days later and was put on our coffee table.  As she bloomed she started to lean and grow out to the side.  I giggled to think that she is an appropriate part our family.  Why wouldn't you grow to the side?  

Do go to Babies R Us on your Birthday

What a great birthday!!!  The girls at work threw me a party at midnight to celebrate me turning 25 years.  I drove home to find my door covered in wrapping paper.  I was so excited, I opened the door and jumped up in down ( Jumping isn't a fantastic idea.  I almost wet my pants)...I am sure that was a funny sight to see and I wonder what Baby Strickland was thinking.  Shaken Baby Syndrome.


I walked into our apartment at 3:00 am to find my cute boy sitting the couch with a huge grin on his face!  He knew he "had done good".  



Two weeks before my birthday, I informed my husband that birthdays are a huge deal in my life.  He informed me that they weren't a big deal in his.  Discussion over.  I thought this was one of those things you adjusted to when you got married.  No more birthdays.  But, I should have remembered the time right before we were engaged and he told me he couldn't afford a ring and so I wouldn't get one....(Note.  He lied.  When he proposed, he pulled out my favorite ring and giggled.)    
So I walked in to this wonderful, crete paper surprise!   



He was so tired and so proud of himself.  



So we finally got up, looked at apartments, ate breakfast at IHOP (I love hash browns and ham currently), and the went to Babies R Us to register per my request for a birthday treat.  I'm sure I was a funny sight.  I was walking around the store aimlessly with the scanner.  I looked lost and pathetic.  No one told me there were 7 different kinds of bottle and twenty different car seats, or what seems like 30 types of diapers.  DEER IN THE HEADLIGHTS.  

Brandon asked if I was ok, and I started to cry.  We laugh cause I was being stupid.  Mascara running down my face, I gave the scanner back to the lady, walked out, and gave the bird to the store.  I'll figure it out before the baby comes.  

Remedy to a hard 20 minutes at Babies R Us?  Food.  Isn't that what you give to all pregos?  (Well let's just be honest, I didn't get chunky by denying myself food whenever I was sad...or happy....or mellow.....Any emotion, I say Eat!)  Dinner at the Melting Pot.  It was fantastic and I love dessert. What a nice husband I have.  Birthdays really aren't his thing, but he went out of his comfort zone, just to make sure mine was spectacular.  What a good man.  Thanks for giving me the sweeter orange.  

Note...Brandon's birthday is the day after mine.  What did we do for his birthday?  Exactly what he wanted.  Watched t.v. and ate steak.  I don't understand, but he was happy.  

The Prego Mentality....Real or just an Esther Clause?


I noticed that I am become somewhat of something I hate (oh strong word... How about strongly dislike)  For instance....old people.  When they feel like they are owed something, just for still being alive.  Me, I feel like the world owes me props for being pregnant.  Here's the story.

I walk on campus and expect people to get out of my way.  I expect people to get of line in buffets.   I expects boys to open the doors for me.  I expect that when I get off the elevator, the person coming on waits for to get off before trying to push their way into the mirco space.  I expect teachers to be understanding of tardiness when I only have ten minutes to get across a huge campus and I walk with a waddle.  Proven fact...waddling takes more time than walking.  
My teacher kinda berated me in front of the class for being two minutes late to class today.  "Sister, "  (side note, why do teachers at BYU call you Brother or Sister when they know your name?  Continuing on...) "Sister, you really need to start being on time to my class."  I may or may nor have looked at him like he was an idiot and told him that I don't move as fast pregnant as when I am not pregnant.  The girls in the class laughed, I sat down and he turned a little pink.  Do I feel bad...Not really.  Should I feel bad...not really...Do I need to have a come to Jesus meeting with myself for being a self righteous prego? Yeah, but I'll do it tomorrow.