Five Weeks

Hey there everyone!  And by "everyone," I mean my readers.  And by "my readers," I mean my mom, my Tackling Tomfoolery girl, Malikka and my homey in Seattle (wassuuup!).

A Letter to My Son

For You:

My handsome, sensitive, strong and loving son.  When I first felt your kicks at thirteen weeks along, I knew then and there your name would be Ezekiel, Hebrew for "God's strength" or "strength of God."  Daddy and I had flip flopped between a number of names, including Essex, Ezekiel, and Percival.

6 More Weeks!

Actually, it is precisely six weeks minus one day but who's counting?  My hips ache and sleep has taken on a whole new meaning.  I am breathing like a cow on steroids and Isaac keeps asking why I sigh so much (sigh).  Because I am tired!  I am also growing a tiny human inside of me but big deal, right?  Happy cows do not come from California.  I am not a happy cow at the moment.  I am a hot and tired mess and cannot wait to see this little guy who is causing such a stir.

Thank You God...

 ...For My Husband!

Mission Statement

I am in the nesting phase for sure now!  I mean, full on N-E-S-T-I-N-G.  First things first I am cleaning out my email inbox.  It's not so bad, the first email I am sorting through is only from January 9, 2012.

How I'm Feeling: (Almost) 8 Month Check-In

I do not sit on public toilets.  Actually, I don't sit on any toilet seat really, unless it's my own--and even that gets wiped clean constantly.  I can't remember the last time I sat on a public toilet but I'd say I was pretty young.  And even then, I must have clogged the toilets with fist fulls of paper covers.  My mom taught us to squat at a young age.  I think back to when we were children living in Nigeria, West Africa and there were two options when using the toilet: squat or go in the "bush."