Please, oh please, tell me you read Jami’s blog.  If you don’t, you’re definitely missing out.

First of all, she’s so freaking hilarious.

Secondly, she’s so freaking creative.  She can make ANYTHING…as long as Crisco’s not involved.  She loathes Crisco.  Passionately loathes Crisco.

Thirdly, she’s so freaking honest.  Doesn’t matter if she’s talking about how she and her husband’s marriage survived adultery, or how hard it is to be a mom, or her feelings on Crisco.  The girl’s honest and I love her for it.

Anyway, Jami had a fabulous idea to invite a bunch of fabulous ladies over to do a fabulous craft.

It was fabulous.

This is what I came home with to hang on my door.

Thank you all for the sweet comments on my last post!  I loved reading through each and every one of your words.  Your excitement just adds to ours.

The most common question we’ve received from peeps is this, “Is Arle excited about it being a boy?”

The answer.  Kind of.

One thing you have to know about Arle is that she is one of the MOST competitive girls you will EVER meet in your ENTIRE life.  I’m not joking.  I thought I was competitive until Arle came along and showed me what it really means to be described as such.

She hates to lose.  She hates to be wrong.  She hates to not know how to do something perfectly the very first time.

Perhaps we have some pride issues at the ripe age of four?

She was absolutely 100% convinced it was a girl and I was absolutely 100% convinced it was a boy.

We broke the news to her with ice cream.  Trav picked it up on his way home from work.  She knew that if she was presented with pink ice cream it was a girl, and blue equaled boy.

She was so excited to dig into her pink ice cream.  Until she removed the cover and saw it was blue.

“Oh, it’s a boy,” she said with fake excitement in her voice.  At first I thought she truly was disappointed, but it soon became increasingly clear that she was way more disappointed about being wrong than she was about the mere fact that the baby is a boy.

Arle:  “Mommy the next time you have a baby in your belly, will you say that it’s a girl and I’ll say it’s a boy?”

Me:  “Why?  Is that just so you can be right?”

Arle:  “Yes.”  (you’ve gotta admire her honesty)

Me:  “But what if it really is a girl next time?”

Arle:  silence coupled with a look of complete defeat spread across her face. Then she busts out with, “I don’t even really like boys.”

Me:  Oh really?  What about Cade?  And David?  And Nate?  And Quinn?

Arle:  Well, I mean I like friends that are boys.  (And then as Travis enters the room) And I like Daddy Boy.

So, it took her a while to warm up to the idea that she was wrong.  I do think she’s genuinely excited still just because there’s a real live baby on the way.

And yesterday at Hobby Lobby she spotted a blue photo album with an old school pram embroidered on the cover that she just had to buy for “baby brother.”

I felt like that was a step in the right direction until she exclaimed that she was going to fill it with pics of herself.

I’m afraid we have a serious case of Only Child Syndrome on our hands.  Eek.

Should be interesting to watch that play out when February rolls around.

Reasons I love today:

1.  Arle had her first day of 4-year-old pre-school.  She was so excited to get back into the swing of things and had a fabulous time being back with some of her friends from last year and meeting new peeps, as well. Doesn’t she look so grown up???

2.  The weather in KC is GORGEOUS!!!  70′s??  Yes, please!  It was so perfect out that I walked Arle to school then walked to Starbucks for a morning pick-me-up.

3.  While at Starbucks I was greeted with a beautiful chalkboard informing the masses that Pumpkin Spice Lattes are back on the menu.  Yippy ki yay!   I heart fall.

4.  Last, but certainly NOT least…I had an ultrasound today and we now know the sex of this little peanut.  I’ve been so anxious and excited about this day.  They did a level 2 ultrasound that measured and checked out every single thing possible.  Everything looked absolutely perfect, praise the Lord!

So, for all of you who are interested in knowing what kind of “front hiney” we saw on the screen…

it

is

a

BOY!!!!

Yesterday, Arle and I went to Destination Maternity to exchange a top my sweet mom sent me that didn’t exactly fit my ever expanding bust.

I found lots of pants to try on while Arle was happily playing outside the fitting room in the kiddo area.  I tried on a really cute pair of beat up jeans that had some holes in them, but decided I wanted to try on the next size up.

I walked out of the fitting room to search for the size and Arle wasted no time chasing me down for a serious confrontation.

Arle:  You need to go back in that room right this minute and take those jeans off.

Me:  Why do I need to do that?

Arle:  Because they are teared and you are NOT a teenager!

Wow.  That hurts.

But oh so true.

I took my four-year-old’s advice, took the jeans off, and never looked back.

I know, I know.  I’m blogging two days in a row.

Don’t have a heart attack.

Don’t get too excited either.  This post is about broccoli.

Yes, folks, Momdiggity’s officially hit rock bottom.

I just can’t get the broccoli we ate two nights ago off my mind and, therefore, figured it was blog-worthy.

Arle’s in bed.  Trav’s in a meeting.  And I’m home vegging on the couch and catching up on Real Housewives.

And thinking about broccoli.

Yummy broccoli.

Delicious broccoli.

The best broccoli I’ve ever had.

Ever.

My name’s Heather and I crave broccoli when I’m pregnant.

I’ll admit, I don’t remember meeting many stalks of broccoli I didn’t like.  It’s always been one of my favorite veggies, but there are definitely some better ways of preparing it than others.

Ina Garten has {in my opinion} absolutely perfected broccoli.  Her Parmesan Roasted Broccoli is flat out AMAZING.  I’ve made it three times now, and love it more each and every time.

Please try it soon and report back to let me know if it’s as good as I think it is or if it’s just the hormones talking.

Adios, amigos.

So, I have this friend named Bethany. I met her at Starbucks one day through another friend.

Once upon a time, Bethany lived in Lubbock, Texas, which is near my hometown in New Mexico.  Later in life she lived in Tulsa.  Now she lives in Kansas City.  And only a few streets from me.

It’s kind of like she’s been stalking me my entire life, but I just didn’t know it.  Or maybe I’m stalking her and I just didn’t know it.

Whatever the case may be, I’m glad our paths finally crossed two years ago.

She’s a fabulous friend, wife, mother, and photographer. { Her newborn pics are AMAZING for any of you KC peeps out there in the market for cute shots of your new lil’ peanut}.

So, last weekend Bethany and her sweet husband and daughter had us over for dinner.  Bethany insisted on taking some pics of my belly bump and wasted no time pulling me outside when we got there to do just that.

We got outside and I made really weird faces for the camera.  Why do I do such things?  “Here Bethany!!!  Make sure you get my double chin!”

Despite my odd poses, she got some sweet pics of the little peanut and it makes me realize that, yes, I really am pregnant.  Wowzers.  This really is really real.  Really.

Click HERE to see the pics.

Thank the Lord, I’m still feeling great.  I’m pretty much past the stage where my life depends on an afternoon nap, but I’m definitely exhausted by the end of the day.

We’ll hopefully find out the baby’s gender in just a few short weeks and I can’t wait to start decorating/nesting.

Until next time, my friends. Peace out.

Last night, after laying in bed for about 30 minutes, Arle called for, “Mommy!  Daddy!”

Trav went up to see what the problem was.

Trav:  What do you need?

Arle:  Why do they call a somersault a somersault?

Trav:  I don’t know, honey.  And is that really a good reason to call us up here?

Arle:  Well, you don’t need summer or salt to do one, so why do they call it a somersault????

Trav:  I’ll do some research and let you know.  Go to sleep.

Arle:  Well how do you spell somersault?

Trav:  Well it’s spelled differently from regular “summer” and “salt.”  It’s spelled s-o-m-e-r-s-a-u-l-t.

Arle:  Well how do you spell regular “salt?”

Trav:  S-a-l-t.  Go to sleep.

Arle:  Night night.

Life has been pretty hectic lately, it seems.

We flew to New Mexico for my grandmother’s funeral last week.  It was a wonderful time of celebrating what an incredible woman she was.  Our big, huge, crazy family was together a lot and it was so much fun to hear everyone’s favorite Maw Maw stories.  I will forever miss my chats with her, but am so grateful to know she’s in heaven.

In other news, I’m in the LAST week of my first trimester!!!!!  WAHOO!  I can’t believe I’m already 12+ weeks pregnant.

Thankfully, I’ve experienced NO morning sickness whatsoever.  Praise the Lord.  I’m so thankful to not have any of that ick.  Really, the only symptoms I’m having are that I’m horribly exhausted in the afternoons and that I look like a sausage as I try to stuff myself into my normal clothes.

It’s all good, though.  I’ve never been so happy to be chubby.

We went in for my 12 week appointment this morning and had my4th ultrasound.  I get so nervous before them each time, but always love it when that little beating heart shows up on the monitor.

The little peanut was flopping around like a fish out of water today and it was absolutely amazing to watch.  So incredibly blessed that it’s growing and thriving in there.

Last, but certainly not least, my other little peanut isn’t quite so little anymore.  Arle is a ball of energy that I can hardly keep up with these days.  Oh how I love my time with this sweet little big girl.

Just over a year ago, I introduced you to my grandmother, Maw Maw.

We received a call from my mother last night letting us know that Maw Maw just passed away.

I’m feeling such a mix of emotions right now.

Sadness because I won’t get to sit across the table and chit chat with her for hours when I’m in New Mexico and laugh with her anymore.

I won’t get to hear her tell me how much she adores my husband and how she knew I had made a mistake when I broke up with him during our dating years.  I won’t get to hear her tell me what a “dandy” sweet Arle is.

And I’m sad she won’t get to meet the sweet little peanut growing inside me.

I’m also feeling a sense of relief.

I’m so thankful that she didn’t have to suffer any longer than she did.  I’m thankful that she died peacefully in her sleep.

I’m thankful that she had loved ones at her bedside when it happened.

I’m especially thankful that she knew Jesus and that she’s with him now.

She was a remarkable lady.  I’m so grateful for the incredible role model she was for me and that she showed me what it means to truly be a selfless person.  She always always always put others before herself.

She also taught me the importance of using proper grammar, blowing your nose instead of walking around sniffing all the time, and to love wearing bright colors.

I love you, Maw Maw, and can’t wait to see you again someday.

Are you on Pinterest???

Oh.  My.  Goodness.

I’m so completely totally 100% obsessed.

I assumed that I was way behind on this one and that cool peeps had probably been Pinterest-ing for ages.  But then I sent my super cool 19-year-old sister a text about it tonight and she was totally in the dark about the whole thing.  She’d never heard of it.

Booyah.

I beat her to something cool.

It’s such a fun way to keep track of all the fab things (recipes, design, fashion, etc.) you come across while blog surfing or other surfing on the ol’ interwebs.  It’s also a fun way to find fab things that other people have found.  You “pin” your items on your boards and group them into like items.

I’m probably doing a bad job of explaining the whole thing but, trust me, it’s good stuff.

Here’s a kitchen I pinned on my “for the home” board…you know, just in case I discover a money tree growing in our backyard and I’m able to build my dream home with my dream kitchen.  I’ll be able to just hop on over to Pinterest and pull up a pic of the perfect kitchen to show our architect.  Just in case.

Or how about this cute, easy, and yummy appetizer for our next shindig?