Sarb Weekend

Some days I wonder why on Earth we turned down the job offer in Arizona. Like, for instance, every day it's cold here in Utah and I'm stuck at home with a baby whose molars are growing in. He acts like that hurts or something.

You can't blame me for having a tiny bit of a breakdown after three weeks of constant screaming which left me overwhelmed at the thought of being cooped up with a crabby, whiny baby through the upcoming winter months.

And don't even remind me that as my body continues to grow at an incredible rate I won't even be able to get my sanity walks every day that make me feel like I have some control over my weight gain.

And then that incredible growing belly reminds me I'll soon have TWO kids and that gets me all sorts of freaked out on the days when Eli's a handful.

I felt doomed.

So doomed that I resorted to giving Eli his binky back, desperate for a few moments to think about just how doomed I was.

Then Jeff got home and the emotions went flying. I blame pregnancy.

It didn't take him long to figure out I needed some time away to regroup. He dubbed the upcoming weekend "Sarb Weekend" and told me he would take care of all things Eli.

Then I cried because that was the most perfect thing he could do for me. And then I started laughing amid my crying which just sounded like I was sobbing uncontrollably so then I had to tell Jeff I was really just laughing and he could laugh, too. But he didn't laugh and I think he understandably became really concerned for a minute that he was married to such a lunatic. Stupid hormones.

He took Monday off work and I got to spend the day doing all of my most favorite things. I slept in. I walked on the treadmill while watching Grey's Anatomy. And then I spent the rest of the day with my Mom.

First stop: Schlotzky's. It's my cure-all. Not to mention, they've added a nice slice of pickle with every sandwich. They must know Schlotzky's is every pregnant woman's biggest craving.

I guess my mom's not pregnant because she wasn't so excited about the pickle portion of her meal. But she was pleased to find they've also added a cookie portion. Mmmmm.

I watched my stomach grow before my eyes. Seriously. I was huge this day.

Then we went to see a movie. A movie with my most favorite actor by the way. Although Owen wasn't quite as quirky as he usually is which was slightly disappointing. Still a good enough movie though.

Luckily my Mom knew about this "weird liberal theater" in the middle of Salt Lake because all the regular theaters were showing less than interesting movies, and even worse, they were Owen Wilsonless.

By 5:00 I felt relaxed and refreshed and I was already anxious to be home again with my boys. Although, it didn't seem like they missed me all that much.

Thanks Jeff for giving me a little time to myself. Thanks Mom for sponsoring my day away. Now let's all pray I make it through all the snow and freezing weather without another breakdown.

Sports Fans

Something tells me I'm going to need to change my opinion on the boring game of football.

A Pink and Blue Party

Thank heavens I stumbled across the idea to do a "Gender Reveal Party" mere weeks before baby's gender revealing ultrasound.

Here's how it works: Ultrasound tech doesn't tell you the gender but rather writes it on a card and seals the envelope. Sealed envelope is given to a noble cake-maker trustworthy enough to conceal a tiny secret for a few hours. Cake-maker ices the middle of the cake with pink or blue frosting, frosts the outside in a neutral color and then removes all evidence. Cake is brought to pregnant girl's house and a party is to be had!

Our cake-maker with the results:

As soon as she teased about opening the envelope in front of me, I got outta there and got my mind on other things -- the over-the-top decorations for the party! So what if I was super anxious all week waiting for the news which caused me to use my nervous energy to get a little elaborate with my party? I think you'll agree my nervous planning was worth it.

I mean, it just would be a gender reveal party without lollipop lips!

And staches for team blue.

I started setting up on Sunday and I kept asking Jeff if it looked cute. By Sunday night every time Eli passed the table he would point and say, "Cu!...Cu!..." I enjoyed the reassurance from my one-year old that my cuteness efforts were appreciated.

Pink and blue balloons? You betcha!

And what do ya know? Before long we had some guests arrive. Here's the Cox crew with pink shirts casting their girl votes.

Bryan and Celeste. Two more girl votes.

Brooke with her special decoration she made for me. Plus a pink shirt.

Golden Fam provided our first blue votes. Dallas wore tan to predict our baby will be a human. I hope he's right.

Jeff was team pink. I wanted to be, but my gut made me put on a blue shirt.

The cake-maker and her sidekick with the big brother. My mom made sure to clarify she had the pink shirt on before she saw what the gender is. One pink. One blue.

My sister-in-law Laura makes chicken salad to die for. It was tasting so good as I was chowing down I didn't even notice chunks of chicken were flying everywhere. I had a chicken piece sitting on my shirt for a good 5 minutes before Laura so kindly informed me I was spewing food. In the wake of all that, my camera got some of the dressing on the lens. I am so sad Melissa and Kyle are blurry! But they still look cute. One pink and one blue.

Here's the beauty that taunted me all through dinner:

Papa John's pizza buffet. Yes please. And, by the way, I'm eating for two.

Here's the reason I couldn't help but wear a blue shirt...the Excells are notorious for their boys! Seven grandsons and one granddaughter on Jeff's side.

At 7:00 we gathered round the kitchen table for a reenactment of our wedding day as we sliced another cake together.

Okay. So I just watched Jeff slice it while I squeeled and squirmed.

After seeing the results, I pretended I was going to mash all that BLUE frosting in his face -- wedding day style.

Always trust a mother's intuition.

My fears of being in Cub Scouts for the rest of my life were confirmed. Which was a hard pill to swallow. But nonetheless, we're excited for our future scout to arrive.

This was Eli all night -- picking up scraps from the floor, stealing other peoples' cakes and smacking babies in the head with toy baseball bats. He's going to be such a good brother.

My theory holds strong that the Excells cannot produce girls. Oh well. The world could use a few more mustaches.

We can't wait to meet you #2! And I hope you like dinosaurs.

I Lost My Camera

My lack of blogging can be chalked up to our upcoming gender reveal party:

And my camera being forgotten at a family Halloween party:

Where Eli was scared out of his mind by a friendly, bearded leprechaun.

And where ladybugs and zoologists have baby pumpkins.

But luckily I got my camera back when my Mom took me out for her birthday lunch. Don't worry. I generously let her take home the leftover breadsticks as a birthday present.

...the few breadsticks that didn't end up mashed in Eli's mouth.

Eli must have missed the camera, too because he now puts on a show whenever I get it out.

Eli was even happy to see the camera in his face first thing this morning while he was eating his "YOGI" (yogurt).

After he was done eating, he looked out the window at the three inches of snow we got last night and called it bubbles.

Now I just have to keep myself busy until Monday when we find out if more blue or a little pink is in our future. Eek.