As we were leaving our friends on Saturday, the CPH decided that he wanted to take what had been assumed by some as the faster way home. As we passed 275, I mentioned that we may need to get on the interstate to get to his “faster way”. He refused and told me to call Heather to make sure. I refused and told him that if I was driving I would just go the way we had come because, in our family, an already traveled path always means the faster way. He got angry and called Heather himself, but she didn’t answer her phone. So he just kept traveling on a road that he wasn’t sure would lead him where he needed to go. After about 15 minutes, he decided to turn around and head back to the interstate. On the interstate, he took an exit that both of us thought would get us to where we needed to go. Yes, I thought we might be going in the right direction too. But let me remind you of my original statement. I firmly believe that if you want to get home faster you should never choose a path that you have never taken before.
After about 30 minutes, we passed Kings Island.
So, if we hadn’t been paying close enough attention (i.e. if Tonya had not said, “um, I’m not sure we’re supposed to pass Kings Island to get home”), we would have been going in this direction

But we were supposed to be going in this direction

So we pulled off the interstate to make a call to get some directions and after we confused the person giving directions more than we were confused ourself, the CPH decided that we should turn around and go back the way we came.
But not before buying an atlas.

Tomorrow morning, the CPH and I will wake up, grab some breakfast and then head (southeast?) to visit some old friends. When Heater told her daughter that we were coming, her immediate response was that she couldn’t wait to see my CPH. Usually, I’m M*’s favorite. But for some reason this has changed.
The CPH has become a favorite to many of our little friends here lately. As soon as we walk into the A*’s, you hear J* yelling his name. Our little friend N* has recently learned to say his name and she just won’t stop. Every minute they are together, she is saying his name, over and over. And M*! M* not only loves to say the CPH’s name but he absolutely refuses to say mine. No, seriously. Put me in a room with twelve other people and he will say each and every one of their names even if he’d never met them before that moment. Then he’ll turn to me and give me a stare. A stare that says, I know your name but I refuse to say it.
I really believe that all of this affection being poured on my husband and being withheld from me is only a precursor to what is to come.
The CPH has told me on a few occasions that he’s worried that I will lose a large piece of my identity once I become a mom. That I will be more Mom than Tonya. I really don’t see that happening since I will be the one working and he the one that will spend the majority of his time with the baby.
What do I worry about? More often than not, I fear that he’ll just always be the favorite.

So, when my moms and I went out shopping I found some fabric for curtains that I loved. Unfortunately, they didn’t have enough of it. So, on monday night the CPH’s mother and I went out to another fabric store and I found this.

When I first pulled it out of the racks, I loved it. Then I questioned whether or not it was too gender-specific. Then I questioned the background color. But in the end, I decided upon it and I brought it home and I was really proud of my purchase.

Now, I’ve heard from some other people after they’ve seen the material that they think it is busy (see number 5). They of course say it’s not too busy, but still busy! I still really like it, but now I’m a little worried. What if it looks horrible. What if it makes the banana have horrible nightmares.

Geez. Now the friend who called it busy also just called it circusy. Could it get any worse than circusy?

Everyone say it with me.

Happy Birthday T*!

If you’re having a hard time seeing her, it’s because you’re actually looking at the back of her head. I have other pictures of her from the front, but I like this one best. I think that this picture best represents how I see my friend, T*. Never one to want to be completely in the spotlight. Unless she has one of her friends with her. And even then she’ll push that friend in front of her and just smile from the background.

So, it appears that the CPH’s diving adventures have paid off and we are now 32 credits richer in Airtran currency which means in just a few short weekends we will hopefully be in DC spending some quality time with some quality people. I love these people. Have I mentioned that lately?

This weekend, my moms came up to bring me all the stuff they’ve been gathering for Banana. They also took me to register for gifts, which was tiring but fun and anxiety-relieving (so this is all I’m going to need?) but anxiety-causing (I’m going to need all this?) all at the same time. But it’s done. I’m all registered. And our front room is filled with stuff that can’t be put into a room because said room needs to be cleaned out. But I’m washing new things and refolding old things and at least organizing them the best that I can for the time being. If you want to look around at the registries, they are here, here and here (the third one is actually a wish list of children’s books).
Also, this weekend we went to a JoAnn Fabric’s Superstore which my mom swore was so much better than a candy store. While we were there we found some sherpa-lined material that will work great as a baby comforter after my mom gives it some finishing touches. It’s green and soft and perfect for a girl who’s not too themey and was having a hard time pinning down an appropriate and not to cheesy nursery theme. We also found the perfect material for curtains but they didn’t have enough yardage. I’m on the search for the material elsewhere tonight.

I talked to my father’s sister last night for the first time in probably a year – maybe even two. That’s how relations work on that side of the family. I find it kind of funny how, when my parents were married, we spent so much more time with my dad’s family (he and his father-in-law didn’t get along so well) and now as I grow older those are the relationships that have all but completely fallen apart. My aunt called a few days ago to ask if I wanted my grandmother’s end tables. My grandmother has been in a nursing home for many years and apparently the family decided a while ago to sell my grandmother’s home. I had no idea they had done this and therefore had no idea that my grandmother’s house and her things were no longer her own.
I told my aunt I didn’t really want the end tables and she insisted that she really wanted me to have something. The only thing I could think of was a blue vase (I at first thought it was a lamp, but later realized it was a vase) from the blue room. Everyone referred to it as the blue room. If you had seen it, you would understand. That room was my favorite in the whole house – completely filled with blue things. After a game of stick ball in the back yard, my cousins and I would go into the blue room and the winner would pick up something blue from the blue room and hold it in the air like a champion would hold their statue. I have no idea why, but that blue vase is the only thing I could think of when my aunt asked what I wanted. She of course, doesn’t remember the vase (my mom did, isn’t she cool?) and has no idea if it survived the house sale.
My mom remembered some things she’d like to have and of course, she suggested that I grab some old photos. I knew I keep her around for a reason.

Saturday night, the CPH and I and the CPH parents and 2 friends – who stood in quite nicely for the CPH’s brother and sister in law – (they couldn’t make it because of work obligations) headed over to the State Fairgrounds for a hockey game. We had a blast. Both the CPH and I talked afterwards about wanting to follow the team closely. Not because we think they’ll go far or some crazy talk like that. It just seemed like a nice local team to follow. We had a three year old with us and that kid got so much free stuff, it was insane. So insane that I want to take my own kids there so they can be loved and adored. Go here for more pics.

A few weeks after I found out that I was pregnant, loads of our friends started dropping the news that they too were expecting. I’m quite used to this, actually. I have always been a leader.
I got glasses in the middle of my elementary school career. The week after I started wearing my glasses, I noticed two or three friends who were sporting them as well. In the fifth grade, my parents decided they could no longer be together. After they seperated, several of my friends started telling me that their parents were also divorcing.
So the number of couples that are to be having babies at the beginning of this coming summer equals four. I know, crazy right? And we’re all in the same neighborhood. More crazy is that the other three ladies live either across the alley or across the street from each other and they’re all due within days of each other. It’s like the conception fairy flew over their street on the same night and…yeah…you get the picture…
Anyway, our friends, James and K* found out yesterday that they are having a boy. On the one hand, I’m a little jealous that they know and can plan. On the other hand, I still really dig the idea of not knowing.
K* was so sure that she was having a girl and to find out that she is having a boy, makes me think that I really have no idea either. Up until last night, I was fairly certain that I was having a boy. And while I’m a little freaked out at the prospect of trying to figure out how to raise a little boy, I had gotten used to the idea. I had even started to like the idea.
But now, I have no f’ing idea. And it’s quite exciting.

I am a fairly organized person. Now that doesn’t mean that I’m not a messy person. But ask me where something is in that pile of mess and I bet I can find it for you.
I usually don’t like surprises and, instead, prefer to know in advance what’s going to happen. When I’m driving to an unfamiliar location, I always look ahead about 4 turns so that nothing surprises me.
I’m also not a forgetful person. That’s the CPH’s schtick (Interesting side note – What Wikipedia says about that word). But here lately, I’ve been a forgetting mastermind. The other night, I said goodbye to the CPH, told him I was headed to the library and then up north to do some grocery shopping. And I totally forgot to go to the library. Even though I had talked about going not five minutes before I got into the car, drove the opposite direction and made my way onto the interstate. Right now, I’m racking my brain trying to remember if I took my vitamins this morning.
There have been several times that I haven’t planned ahead and I and the others that have travelled with me have suffered the consequences.
And I’ve read that forgetting and absent-mindedness – they are both side effects of pregnancy, which I find absolutely crazy. How is it that I am so lucky that I am allowed to gain at least 20-25 pounds in less than a year, get massages on command, AND be excused for forgetting on so many occasions. The god, yes, they must be crazy.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the only bad thing about making friends is sometimes you find some really special ones. And inevitably, you or them will have to move away and because it just doesn’t make practical sense for you to stay or for them to stay, you realize you have to say goodbye. And everytime you get together, you want to never leave them. But practicality rears its ugly head once again and takes over and you realize you have to say goodbye.
But those times you do get together…even if it is just for one week or one day….those times are so so nice.

Before I say anything, let me say that I haven’t really been with it these last few days. I’ve been quiet. I’ve been tired. I’ve been self-conscious and self-loathing.
When I get this way, I don’t want to do much of anything. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to visit. I don’t want to have to put on a happy face and I don’t want to pretend there’s nothing wrong.
I want people to notice my apathsim. I don’t want them to make it all better. But I want them to see that I am not operating correctly and to not take offense when I don’t talk back.
When I get his way, I become overly-sensitive to what people say and I become overly-obsessive as I think about what it is they said.
Last night, someone asked me if I had a best friend here. This particular person was a girl. And I think what she really meant to ask was if I had a super-close-share-everything-with girlfriend.
So needless to say, she wasn’t satisfied when I told her that I had my CPH. Actually, the CPH wasn’t that satisfifed with that answer when he asked me pretty-much-close-to that same question a few months back.
And I back-tracked then, just as I did last night assuring my inquirers that I have girlfriends here. Take for example, my date with a girlfriend next week. We’re eating pizza and talking about boys, I’m sure. It’s what we do everytime we get together. And sometimes, we even play scrabble.
But, the truth is that I don’t have best-friend-girlfriends here. Yes, there are some girls that I know that know me so well, I could never fool them. But they aren’t here.
And most of the time, I’m not really bothered by that fact. I love it that the CPH and I are, in truth, best friends. And I’m usually just fine with sharing some things with some girls and other things with others.
And as I write this out and work it out in my head, I’m actually quite satisfied that I haven’t established a relationship with one particular girl that supercedes any other girl-to-girl relationship that I enjoy. Doesn’t that leave me more open to learning and sharing? I’d like to meet the person who decided that each married person needs to have two best friends.

My friend, Nathalie, sucks hotdogs when it comes to responding to emails. But she’s pretty good about posting comments here.
So.
Do you have your birthday off? Planning anything fun? How old are you going to be, 29, right?

Also…Apparently you and I are supposed to be working out how we’re meeting up this weekend. Does dinner on Saturday sound good? You guys know of a place to meet in the middle? If not, we could just come up to Goshen and maybe spend the night….

Today, the CPH and I celebrate eight years together. We’ve got a good thing going. We know, very well, the things we like (and don’t like) about each other. We’ve setttled into each other. And I’m really grateful that we waited this long in our marriage to procreate. Coming from a family that struggled to stay together (as long as they could) because the kids would be better off(i know, I know, one of the many reasons that unhappy people stay together)....There’s just something comfortable about knowing that we’ve stayed together all these years because we wanted to.

He’s my lazy boy recliner.