Celebrate Good Tims

Taken a few minutes after we found out I'm pregnant

Today is my baby daddy's birthday. He is 30 years old. And for the past few weeks I've found myself mulling over a familiar question: What the heck do I get him?

What do you get the man who puts you first in everything he does, who's constantly thinking up ways to improve the life you share, who lives by a standard of integrity that would make Atticus Finch jealous? A man who rubs my disgusting swollen feet, compliments my beauty when I resemble Shrek, whose response to me being an intolerable crankypants is to go get me my favorite passion iced teas from Starbucks? A man who makes me so happy I miss him when he's gone for more than a few hours? A man I can't believe exists let alone belongs to me?

You don't get him a tie, that's for sure.

I struggle with this every year. How to tell him. How to thank him. How to acknowledge the epic wonderfulness of who he is. But especially this year. Because for the past 8 months, he's gone above and beyond his usual selflessness. He was my constant caretaker through my months of intense morning sickness. He's washed a million dishes, done a million loads of laundry, bought me a million burritos, given me a million backrubs. He's assembled furniture, accompanied me to every doctor's visit, spent hours researching baby stuff. He's talked sense into me when I freaked out, comforted me when I hurt. I'm not allowed to so much as pour a glass of water without him scrambling to do it for me. Mariah Carey wishes she was as pampered as I am. And it's all done cheerfully, without a thought, without even the shadow of a complaint.

A yacht made of diamonds seems the most appropriate gift this year. Sadly, I can only afford a model yacht made of Cheetos and I'm not sure I'm skilled enough to assemble something like that.

I wanted to do something special to celebrate his 30 years on this earth and to thank him for spending 6 of those years loving me. Something epic and elaborate and memorable. But that's another thing I love about him: he hates that kind of thing. Every year he says he just wants to relax and spend time with me and it took me a while to understand that he really means it. All he wants this year is to go out for Thai food and for me to bake him a Funfetti cake. Dream big.

And so I will give him an inadequate gift that is neither a yacht nor made of diamonds, shower him with inadequate kisses, and tell him here, inadequately, how thankful I am to be his wife, how excited I am to watch him become an incredible father in just a few weeks, and how I really appreciate that he understands that I can't drink out of the same water glass twice because it is gross which results in a ridiculous amount of water glasses all over the counter which means we probably waste a lot of water just washing my extra non-cootied glasses but like I said he gets it because he's awesome that way.

I love you, honey. Happy 30th birthday.

Brisé

Not much to report this week. The doctor estimates that Green Bean weighs about 5 lbs now. She is in a head-down position, which is good. It's crazy seeing her on the ultrasound now--her head takes up the whole screen. I've definitely started to feel like there's a big ol' baby moving around in there and not just a twitchy little fetus. She's not such a little bean anymore.

A few days ago Tim and I tried to do this 2-hour online instructional carseat safety course that had been recommended at our birthing class. After half-an-hour of being instructed on not driving with the baby in our laps, not buying used carseats that have been damaged in car crashes, and how to buckle a seatbelt, we figured we might be able to navigate the carseat thing on our own, seeing as our collective IQ is not in the single digits. We've done our research and will be getting the carseat on Thursday. Hopefully installing it is not the brain surgery level ordeal people are making it out to be. And even if it is, I think Tim can handle it. ;)

Speaking of Tim, it's really cute watching him earnestly read the baby book while watching baseball. If that's not the epitome of new fatherhood, I don't know what is.

Our main goal, besides getting the carseat, for the next couple weeks is to finish setting up the baby's room--assemble the swing and bassinette, get rid of the bed in there, and hang up the pictures. I can't wait to see it looking all baby-ready. I spent a blissful day in there last week opening packages, removing tags, and organizing things while listening to the "Rock Lullabies for Babies" CD my friend Tiffany sent us ("Bohemian Rhapsody" in lullaby form? Love it!). I love being surrounded by all her adorable things from people who love her. It's surreal looking at her little outfits and realizing that an actual baby--our baby--is going to be wearing them very soon.

I had a dream last night that we named the baby Brisé. I just googled the word and apparently a brisé is a sharp, brisk ballet kick. Green Bean has certainly been brisé-ing it up in my uterus lately. Apparently my subconscious is smart (and bilingual).

hot mamas

My mom flew out for a few days last weekend and we had a great time! She made it very easy to be my lazy pregnant self. We painted ceramics, shopped, went to the movies, went out to eat--not exactly a whirlwind of excitement, but I enjoyed every minute of it. It was just nice to see her, especially at this stage of pregnancy. She even got to feel the baby kick!

And I was really impressed with how much baby stuff we (and by we, I mean she--have I mentioned we're spoiled?!) knocked off our list in one relatively short shopping trip. We're almost all set for Green Bean's arrival now. I really need to get some pictures of her adorable things. (She now owns Beatles onesies. OMG.)

For now, check out this ridiculously cute keepsake box my mom painted for Green Bean's room:


And here's a photo she took of me at 32 weeks:


I wasn't happy to see her go back to the disaster area of Nashville, but she got home safe and sound and her house is fine. I think she missed the thick of the storm, fortunately.

And now the countdown continues. 52 days to go!