The business of growing humans.

Our loveliest happening yet:

Our little gem, due tentatively April 25th, 2013!

Oh my, it has been so hard keeping quiet these past several weeks. When we first found out, I wanted to sing it from the rooftops- but, we wanted to wait until we at least saw it on an ultrasound and heard a steady heartbeat. It's also just been nice to have a really big secret that is just ours for the keeping for a while. We are surprised, nervous, but absolutely over the moon to welcome this sweet new baby!

I was very, very thorough. ha!

I am currently just about 12 weeks along (first trimester nearing the end!!!!!!!!!). I started getting morning sickness at about 6 weeks. The term 'morning sickness,' in my opinion, is a vast misrepresentation of what actually happens, because it really should be called 'all-day-long-and-into-the-night sickness.' At least, that has been my experience. No, it is not fun, and at some moments it makes you wonder just what the hell you got yourself into, but I know that it will soon pass and I'll be holding a wee one in my arms before I know it. Plus, if anything it means the babe is developing normally. (: 

Things that have been my saving grace thus far:

• french fries/anything that has to do with a potato
• grilled cheese sandwiches/anything that has to do with cheese
• Jamba Juice 
• milkshakes
• skittles

Things that make me want to yack:

• spaghetti (red sauce)
• chicken
• salad 
• garlic
• mexican food (sometimes)
• things that smell

Basically, I've been living off of a 3 year-old's diet, eating things that I'd normally never be able to stomach- like Sonic and Taco Bell. Meat in general just sounds.. heavy. And gross. The thought, smell, or picture of certain foods makes me want to vomit.  I had a dream about cinnamon rolls the other night and woke up craving them SO badly, but later on in the day I saw a picture of them in a magazine and quite literally gagged.. what?

And toothpaste! ewewewew. Our cat, Socrates, who is my bathroom buddy when I'm getting ready in the morning, laughs at me with his little kitty eyes as he watches me gag brushing my teeth. It's routine. He's a snarky little feline. I really just don't understand these funny pregnancy hormones of mine. Thank the good lord above that I haven't thrown up at all, it's just been really intense nausea, cramping, and fatigue.

Speaking of getting up in the morning, it has been quite the chore trying to go to work and stay there all day. To be honest, it's an absolute mystery to me how women are expected to function normally during such a huge transformation in their bodies. Maybe I'm just the biggest wimp in the world, but seriously, you can't even begin to imagine the foul smells that permeate through the walls of an elementary school.. Not. Okay.

My boobs hurt. Also, I have to pee every 5 minutes and am told my uterus is currently slightly bigger than a grapefruit. I love the food comparisons they give you, like, "Oh, your baby is now the size of a Lima bean," or "the embryo resembles a cocktail shrimp." I am proud to say that we have now progressed to FRUIT! Our little prune/lime baby. Lovely.

Well, that's about it- I hope I don't sound whiny and annoying. I really do feel blessed to have made it this far and that this little light of mine is beaming away inside.

I can't wait to see David as a daddy. He really is so sweet with kids and there's no doubt in my mind that he is going to be a magnificent father to our little one. (:

I just can't believe that someday these little shoes will be filled:

-"These hills will swallow happy things with their bellies full to bursting." 

Unicorns, and other ramblings.

Have you ever tried to clean a broken mirror?

Well, it doesn't work out so well.
One fine day, not so long ago, my trusty mirror (a stand-up, leaning against the wall in the bathroom  that I've had since high school mirror) decided to take a dive in the bathtub but missed and broke it's little face. I felt sorry for it, to be honest.
And I have to admit right here and now that there is something about a broken mirror that I love. I think there is a deeper meaning behind it, like my mirror is trying to tell me something subliminally. Or, not so subliminally.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Oh god, here comes a most likely sappy and bitter feminist rant."
Eh, not really. I just think it's easy to forget what it means to be valued in this world and in the contours of your own fickle mind even, and that the word "beautiful" has been watered down to represent something that isn't quite relatable or real.

Everyone struggles with self-efficacy, self-image, self-confidence, self-worth, self self blah blah again and again all day long and into the dawn. That, to me, is one problem. Why do we constantly think about ourselves? 

Quite honestly, it has taken me a long time realize the terrible and wonderful truth that other people are not thinking about you. You are thinking about you. They are not scrutinizing that zit that decided to sprout over night that you think has taken over your entire face, or that your hair is slightly greasy because you were too damn tired to take a shower that morning because you stayed up too late watching Lost with your husband. (Okay, I am really really guilty of that last one). That nose of yours that's 'slightly angular'? The one that makes you extremely self-conscious in social situations and at times (even though you're ashamed to admit it) has caused you to shy away from certain friendships or relationships? Yeah. I am here to tell you that I am 99.99999% sure nobody else notices these little 'details' but you. And that one teeny little tenth of a percent that does, is most likely just an asshole anyway.

I am the worst example of this. Not being an asshole I mean, but I have been known to not go out on a weekend night or to work because I felt too fat, I was having a bad skin day, felt like nobody liked me, just didn't feel good enough about myself or interesting enough for someone to invest their time into, or I literally just had severe anxiety about having to talk to people in general. I guess introversion doesn't help. But I do know that the way in which you choose to view yourself runs deep; it flows with such a great weighty sadness that it fills the rivers and pools of your veins and into your heart, and soon you will drown in a wilted world that you've created.

Sometimes I wish that I could be this. Naked, exposed, wearing a unicorn mask on a beach somewhere. How wonderful would that be if we could all be this?! There would be no stigmas, no judgements or condemnations. It would be the bare bones of existence, beauty in it's most raw form, and you know what? I bet we would never think about ourselves. I'd probably be thinking about how the rain feels dancing against my bare skin during a naked jaunt in a wild storm, or how I am so connected to the very roots of existence and fiery core of the earth that I feel the thunder roar in my bones.. or that that unicorn head mask is getting really sweaty.

But really, I want to go back to the start- before there were standards and societal norms painfully etched into my psyche. I want the bare bones of it all, because when one is stripped of all predetermined flaws and harsh ridicule, shortcomings and everything tangible bad feeling, that's really all that's left.

I exist as I am, and that is enough.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I've also been reading "The Perks of Being a Wallflower," which is a story about a teenage boy 'coming of age' and experiencing very similar thoughts and feelings to my own- but I am nowhere near as cool as him. I read it in 7th grade when I was a sheltered, ignorant little Mormon girl (not saying that all Mormon girls are ignorant, but I certainly was) and I had no idea what it was talking about and found myself scared and a little confused in more ways than one after finishing it. But reading it the second time has helped me feel more at peace with the weirdness and the unsure-edness that pools in my stomach like jello after the stomach flu. The jello of self-loathing, not knowing your place in the world, not being totally satisfied with the person you have to face in the mirror every day, broken mirror or not- that kind of jello. For the record, I have never liked jello. Ever. Hence the analogy.

I digress. I really just wanted to say that I know it's damn near impossible not to think about yourself, because you are a living breathing being and yourself is the only self you really pretend to know. But try not to think about yourself too much- the fussing, worrying, self-deprecating part of it anyway. I can't even imagine how many opportunities I've lost because of doing and being those things, and it's all because I put myself in a corner. You teach people how to treat you, and if you can't even treat yourself with the respect of human decency and acceptance, than who will respect you; who will accept you? Also, there's no definite meaning of beauty. It is all around us, hiding in every crevice, hill and dale, watery eye and whiskery smile. So choose to be the kind of beautiful that you would be proud of inside. And maybe, if you feel like it, look at yourself in a cracked mirror sometime.

I exist as I am, and that is enough.

Twenty-onethingsyoudidn'tknow.

1. I have a crush on Walt Whitman, even though he was most likely homosexual.

2. I am afraid of heights, the dark, and being alone in the dark on a cliff.
(... and just about everything else)

3. I COLLECT: quotes

“I am the combined effort of everyone I’ve ever known.” - Chuck Palahniuk

4. pictures (old and new) that make me smile and wonder just how things were.

5. vintage tins, because they remind me of my grandma.

6. Speaking of my grandma, she is giving me a harpsichord. I am pretty ecstatic about it, let me just tell you.


7. I have several journals/doodle/idea/quote books I've kept throughout the years. This is my most recent one:

I call him Archimedes. He's an old timer with earth and mud and forest secrets in his bones. 

8. I love walks and long talks, both are crucial to the ebb and flow of my sanity.  

9. My favorite colors are Robin's Egg Blue, Seafoam Green, Sunflower Yellow, Ruby Red, and Blueberry Brambles. 

10. My wallpaper and I are engaged in an arduous duel to the death. One of us has got to go. 

11. My first boyfriend was a boy named Michael in kindergarten. We shared a raspberry milkshake once, probably the closest thing to intimacy. Except for that time he kissed me with sticky popsicle lips behind the dog house. 

12. It is easier for me to write a song than to have a conversation with someone. 

13. I am an aspiring novelist, artist, philanthropist, Child Psychologist, ventriloquist.

14. I am currently reading, "Leaves of Grass," the Death-Bed edition, by Walt Whitman. (the obsession deepens)

15. My mother has the most vast, vibrant sweater collection, of which I frequent and hope to one day inherit in all of its sweatery glory.

16. A woman who inspires me (besides my mother): Audrey Hepburn 

17. A man who inspires me: Irving Penn 

18. lovelovelove embroidered things:

19. The Ditty Bops' song, "Pale Yellow," reminds me of rainstorms and living by myself. 

20. So maybe you already knew this one, but I love this guy like the moon loves the sky. He is just SO DAMN HANDSOME. 

My Bird

This is one of my favorite pictures of him, snarling dragon creature and all.

21. I love adventure nights where I get to go to Barnes & Noble and 'travel the world' with said handsome gentleman.

 

and now you know. 

Moonlight promenades, babies, and the like.

Quite a lot of happenings these days:

Charis Wendolyn Baugh

&

Mckenzie Elizabeth Sowards

There are two more beautiful baby girls in the world, and they just happen to be our nieces!!! David is a first time uncle, and he is pretty darn happy about it. And I am a proud proud Auntie (:

  -Secondly, I've fallen in love with a band called Dark River, and have been listening to "Broke Hill,"on repeat for probably two days now. They are absolutely magical, and I love mostly all of their songs so you too, should investigate. Sorry, I'm not savvy with links and such, but hopefully you can find them here:

 http://www.thesixtyone.com/#/s/y8D5C39uORH/

-The product of my crafty vibes is as follows: 

This here rug for my lovely mamma's birthday. I do think she will enjoy it. 

- I'm officially Amanda Shaye Baugh (B-awww)

I woke up with one name, and went to bed with another. I was two people in one day. How wonderful that there are so many different versions of ourselves within the casements of time, just passing through like faded images on a grand projector that just keeps shifting. 

-David shaved himself a nice French mustache just in time for his birthday, I think he was feeling some pangs of reminiscence for France, poor guy. Anyhow, it looked far too dapper for his own good, and I wish I had a picture of it. I do however have pictures of the birthday festivities:

messy birthday room, lawl

... my makeshift decorating skills. I nearly died doing it the night before as I stood on that black spinny chair with a tape roll in my mouth, scissors in one hand and streamer in the other. David found the sight quite amusing.  

I baked him lemon bars and woke him up in the morning simply because I felt we should start eating them as soon as possible. I sang to him with my tired 'little morning voice' as he calls it, and he blew out his '22' candles and that was the tragic end of the lemon bars. We then went to his favorite tea store called Teavana and got some ridiculously expensive/heavenly smelling tea leaves, then trotted on down to Lush, his favorite organic soap store. You must understand, David is the cleanest person I know as far as hygiene goes, and I absolutely adore him for it. Just let the man have a nice long bath with fresh iced tea and a lemony bar of soap and he's happy as a clam. He loves lemon anything, by the way. I used to think baths were wasteful and pointless, but since I've known him, I've truly come to appreciate the beauty of a good bath. Needless to say, his birthday was a laid-back, happyish day. (:

Other happenings: 

-I did some editing in my novel, although am contemplating starting from scratch. 

-David and I went on a moonlight promenade along the canal by our house at 2 am. I find these walks both humbling, thrilling and terrifying all at once. I'm constantly looking behind my shoulder for a lurk-some shadow in the night, any snap of a twig or crackle of a leaf sends me reeling into a paranoid frenzy. David simply squeezes my hand and laughs at how ridiculous I am. He is so brave. I love that about him. Such a quiet strength he has. When we were first dating about 5 years ago, he told me he'd walk the canal by himself listening to Simon & Garfunkel on long summer nights, all the way to my house, just to be close to me. What a little pumpkin snack he is. (:

We also went to Peter Piper Pizza to celebrate our last Sunday night of freedom- that is without the thought of the ever-looming Monday, work, school, and alllll that entails. He got a mustache pack  equipped with two fuzzy eyebrows to match, and I got a fresh pair of googley-eyed glasses. We took a crappy photobooth pic to document, of course. 

Truth be told, I am ecstatic to go back to work. I cannot wait to see my sweet Kaylee again! More on her later. 

Discoveries, thoughts and tidbits: 

-I've noticed that I say 'absolutely' a lot, and I don't think I'm as absolute as I think I am, as there are few things in this world that are absolute. 

-It's funny that I am a water soul, being an Aquarius, and have been petrified of water my whole life. 

-I discovered these ADORABLE tiny houses! 

We included building one of these in our 5-year Plan that almost exists. 

Again, hopefully you can take a gander at them here: 

http://www.tumbleweedhouses.com/products/b53/

-'You are the seed of the sun, plume of the ancient submerged heart; a laugh to make the whole world laugh.'

Felines, and crafty vibes.

FELINES. 

My pending Halloween costume.


I am the crazy cat lady. I am not ashamed.

ALSO.

Itching to get crafty. 

Stay tuned. 

Paris, and such.

Happenings:


PARIS


..was amazing, to say the least.

I have to admit that I hated it at first.
I think it was the whole culture shock thing, crowd thing, busy city /foreign language thing. Also the fact that I'm the world's biggest scaredy cat thing. But by the second day, I set my insecurities aside, and fell in love.

Observations:

• The people either smelled really good or really bad. 
• They were impeccably fashionable and overall dapper in every way, which caused me to question the meaning of life.
• The scarves. THE SCARVES. There is something about a scarf that is so classy. (I feel the ultimate rite of passage for womanhood is being able to tie a scarf properly. Let's just say I am 59% woman.)
• I did not see one obese person. Not one. 
• Everyone and their dog had a bicycle/and or a dog. 

David had to stop me from stuffing this little gem into my purse. 

Thoughts:

When we got off the bus at The Louvre, I don't think I was expecting to leave quite so changed. 

Something about being in touching distance of things that are centuries old moves me to tears. Those ancient people are made real; tangible. They're not just stories you read about, leaving you with this insatiable hunger to understand, to know and experience all that they did. You somehow have to come to grips with the now and realize that they were just like you or me, that we're all a part of this immense circle of coming and living and seeing and being. 

                                                               The Great Recycler:

                                                      Even when we die, we're not dead. 

This is a Minoan pot. It's a lovely little squid.
(I find the Minoans incredibly fascinating)

Thanks to David's extensive knowledge of Art History, I learned that this was painted by Jacques-Louis David. He had been at art school in Paris at the time (17th century) and was receiving much doubt and criticism from his colleagues and professors regarding his artistic abilities. This was the painting from which he finally earned his respect as an artist.

And then of course, there's this gal. 

"The poetry of the earth is never dead."
-Keats

Sorry for the art tangent, it couldn't be helped.

We also saw the magical Notre Dame:

and the beautiful Luxembourg Gardens:

Napoleon's Tomb and the war museum:

It's quite small, oui?

The Eiffel Tower, of course!

                                                         Our grumpy, hungry pictures.

And last but not least, the Lover's Lock Bridge.

                                 

It was beautifully perfect.