This Ain't A Surfin' Movie...

It’s cold.

I hate when he works sundays, sundays are always breakfast day. Cuddle day. Spend time with the growing little boy in my belly day.
But one sunday a month I have to sit here and enjoy the cool breeze in our room by myself. I have to occupy my time with tiny laundry, netflix, idle conversations, showering & naps.
I’m allowed to complain all I want to. It’s hard letting those bright eyes, dark curls and that soft skin out of bed when all I want to do is feel his hands on my bump (the baby made SUCH a thump for him last night.) and talk about where we’re going to go for hashbrowns, and coffee adventures.
I’m a sad little miss.

“Remember the time you drove all night, just to meet me in the morning? And I thought it was strange you said everything changed, you felt as if you’d just woke up. And you said, this is the first day of my life, I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you.”

Abe just looked at me and said “I’m so lucky to have a girl like you”

I asked why, and he said “I don’t know, I just feel that way when I look at you.”

If any girl would like a clone of him, I’m working on it. I feel like the world needs more super-sweet, hard working, talented men/great dads-to-be. Might cost ya a hefty fee though.

Lovelovehim.

<3

The Postal Service, The Gaslight Anthem and Death Cab will always and forever make my heart swell now.

Any of those three may have been on when my child was conceived. They’ve been there for so many kisses, touches, longing gazes and feelings.

Recycled air by the postal service just came on and my little hairs stood on end. It makes me think of darkness, heartbeats and breathing.

And my darlings pretty eyes.

The only other album that will forever make me melty is Damnesia by Alkaline Trio. We played it on our first date, when his car was still noisy and I was shaky, almost speechless and completely flustered.

Oh, memories. <3

Made me cry the biggest tears ever on the way in today.

Never Grow Up came on the radio, on the local college station.

I was alone on the highway, in the fog.
And I don’t usually like Miss Swift.
But there I was, one hand on my belly, the other hand on my steering wheel with the biggest rolling tears splashing down my face into my lap.
All I could think of was this sweet baby bee in my belly, someday being a rebellious teen. Not needing me anymore. Moving out. Doing big things on their own. And I fell apart completely.

Someday, I’m not going to need to give baths or read stories or do tuck in time.
And it makes me feel like someone’s picking at my stitches and pulling me apart every time I think of it.

I need to savor every ounce of this pregnancy. Every single day. And every day of newborn-ness. Every hard night. Every little baby noise. Every smell. Everything.

Because when I wake up and I’m seeing a 16 year old version of myself bouncing out my front door, I may or may not implode.

Stupid Taylor Swift.

:/

Reasons I love this man #454
He just brought me two perfectly peanut buttered pieces of toast, a great fresh banana and a bottle of water.
Not only does this help prevent morning nausea, but it’s an incredibly sweet gesture.

<3