What true love looks li - BOOBS!

Last week I read a beautiful love story: A couple, Jimmy & Billie Breland, whom had been married for over 60 years, was but 1/2 of what they once were, as Billie passed away and left her husband a widower. Famous amongst her family for once writing special tokens down in form of the note, Billie had recorded quotes, memorable moments, and loving thoughts down forever.  It was a special trait of hers and one that even after she passed away would leave Jimmy feeling warm and still loved by his wife for she had one more surprise up her sleeve. She left a note for Jimmy to find hidden in her checkbook - in which she seemingly spoke to him from beyond the grave and gave him what I can only imagine was solace and comfort ensuring she wasn't far away. She wrote: 

Don't cry because I died! Smile because I lived! 

Know that I am in a happy place! 

Know that we will meet again! 

I'll see you there! 

I read this story and it broke my heart in all the right ways. I love my husband so much and it's only been 10 years - a third of my life! I can't even fathom the love I will have for him after spending twice the amount of time I've lived now, and at that point three fourths of my life, and then living life without him - and it touched me. It moved me to tears. I contemplated for a moment what that must be like. The best I could come up with is it's probably like functioning normally for 50 + years, and then waking up one morning and trying to take a step without your left leg.  It seems impossible because you've lived with this strong and supportive beam for so long and now it's just gone. I don't want to think about it anymore than I have. Not now - not for many many decades to come. We are both happy and healthy and in love and that's it.

Enough of the sap. Sometimes it's hard to love a man! The same man in the same ways day after day. Some days I want to run. Sometimes I want to scream - "ARE YOU ALWAYS GOING TO THINK FARTING IS FUNNY?! LIKE ALWAYS? CAUSE IT'S NOT!" Women want their men to be men when it comes to lifting heavy objects, having a deep stern voice to threaten the bad guys, and of course when it comes to rolling around in bed or on the kitchen table - but we can't stand it when men act like men outside of that. Isn't that funny? When they look at the boobs or ass on another woman, they laugh at dumb humor like Monty Python, or scream at the television during football season while you're trying to have a very subtle conversation about finances, the whole "MAN" thing can be exasperating...Oh us ladies, I'll admit, are so hard to please. My Jimmi has many attributes and habits (I'm assuming) that I would rather know nothing about. "Just do your thing, and I'll do mine," we don't have to discuss and share everything.  

I like to check out the Christian Gryy's of the world, and I know he - the Carmen Electra's - but we don't have to talk about it with each other. There is this man site that he conveniently has an app for and he's on it like I'm on Facebook: TOO MUCH. It's called the Chive. While I'll admit there can be some cute photos of animals here and there, it's mostly a man site filled with photos and videos to entertain the stereo typical man (see boobs, football, beer, 'the gap' ---> if you don't know you don't want to). As I check out thechive.com right now, the top string of photos is appropriately titled "Too Much Silicone or Not Enough?" and the one right after that, "Sooo....you got wasted." 

Being the support beam that he is, Jimmi and I spend a lot of time together. He is always tapping me so I can check out the latest cute, funny or wildly inappropriate photo on his beloved app. Mostly I do appreciate the share, I'm just glad I didn't have to sift through all the cleavage to get there. The other day he taps my shoulder to share and as his eyes are nearly pumping hearts out of them - I'm surprised to learn the share is coming from The Chive. He passes me his phone and I see this: 

the same beautiful note left by Billie Breland to her husband before she passed away. I exclaimed, "I read that on the Today Show last week!" He replied with, "It's just such beautiful story..." And I knew that he meant it. I knew he meant it because he understands true love and the support beam analogy and he knows how much finding this note would mean to him 50+ years from now should I pass away before him. And that to me, is just beautiful. I'll take all of your many habits including boob loving and fart smelling that I must just to hold on to this. Deep down you're a man, a human, my man, and while you may not true love the same way that I true love - you do love and that's what counts...

The en - PECS! 

...and her life was Simply wonderful

All my very best,

Em

HOLY $h!t - I'm pregnant (?!)

Ok so as week 19 strikes today...this is hardly news. But the further I get on this journey of growing the gender-uknown-being formerly known as "Poppyseed" who is currently referred to as "Henry" - the harder it is to believe that my husband and I are about to be parents....and the more I realize how UNPREPARED I AM FOR THIS CHILD!!! I believe I say this with delicate excitement - but you know, I'm still pretty terrifyingly ecstatic in all the right ways.

My husband is currently google searching which stroller is ideal, but aside from that we've done nothing to prep for this baby and I have a million questions/thoughts/concerns running through the very back of my brain (and they're getting closer) every day.
I can think of 5 things I need for the baby:
1.) A place to sleep: Crib
2.) A place to eat: Highchair
3.) A way to get around: Stroller - or a car - just pat him on the back and wish him luck?
4.) A way to transport: Carseat
5.) A way to bathe: Bath
Other than that - I AM CLUELESS!
What will the baby look like?
How scary is labor? I mean millions of human moms and animals do it every day so can it REALLY be that bad?
Will I still be able to work out?
Is it weird I think it's cool to eat the placenta? I mean in a capsule form of course! But that's a thing right?
How soon until the baby isn't a blob?
Can I take the baby to work out with me?
Do I get separate strollers for jogging vs errands?
Are we expected to cook meals when we have a baby or does a meal fairy show up with grocery's and a chef?
If I am supposed to meal prep - is it acceptable to have the baby strapped to me in some fashion while I do so? If so where can I find a flame retardant shield to place the baby in?
Will I ever sleep again?
A bear that mimics the sound of the womb?! Who thinks of these things? And where the hell do I get one?
What else don't I know?

...I receive 4,000 emails a day from Baby Center and the Nest and parenting.com and the What to Expect app and Babies r Us and - how the hell do these people know who I am?! What list am I supposed to trust? Are these websites sponsored?
Don't even get me started on how and when to feed the thing!
Primary colors stimulate a baby's brain more than pastels? Then why is every toy and blanket at target in pastels? Has target really made it this far not knowing this simple fact?
Now I hear baby socks can be dangerous - so do I not put socks on my baby's feet?
Will I really go days without bathing?
How will I ever work again?
Or sleep?
Or poop?
Or do yoga?!
I mean it's like the whole world prepares you for the worst of the worst while telling you its the greatest joy you'll ever experience. WTF does that even mean? It's a perfect oxy moron...And everyone who shares it with you says it with such confidence, and a smirk. A confidence that a year from now will probably make a whole lot more sense to me than it does today. I'm just hoping it's one of those prepare you for the worst things so you're pleasantly surprised when it's actually a walk in the park.
It's just been the 2 of us plus the puggle for 10 years - how the F am I supposed to incorporate another human?
Will I curb my sailor mouth tendencies?
Will I be a progressive mom who say's fuck it, 'bad words are for grown-up's not for babies - learn your role little one?' I mean SERIOUSLY?!
Or will I do the old bait and switch and start driving like a little old church lady who doesn't swear much less let her kid eat dirt? I can't bear the thought of not being me any more...

A lot of this I say with a smiling heart, and mild paranoia mixed with a ton of anticipatory excitement; but mostly I just realize that we are about to enter this world so completely unknown and I want to do it as right as I can.
So many unknowns but here is what I do know:
I know I already love this baby
I know that my husband and I are going to be bad ass parents one way or another
The nursery will get completed and I will get through labor
I will love this little poppyseed/henry/tiny human so much it hurts my heart and I cannot wait. I'm so "terrified" (see excited) we have been taking photos of my and babies growth since we found out of it's existence on October 5th.
You know what? Forget the unknown and the terrifying. I'm excited & the proof is in the pudding - i.e. the smiles seen below and the flutter my heart feels every time I talk about the baby.
We're going to do great.
Here's to living in the moment.

...and her life was Simply wonderful

All my very best,
Emily

October 5th at 5 weeks 4 days 

January 5th at 18 weeks 5 days

Simply date night

When you're in good company - it doesn't matter what you do.

The quality time I spend with my husband is a perfect example of this. Quality time can be hard to come by but if you make a real effort I promise, it's totally possible. Tuesday has been dubbed date night in my home since last April. 

And we are religious about it. 

Life is so busy and there's that 'always something' that makes it so hard to concentrate on ourselves as a couple. So we decided to set one atypical night a week aside (thank you therapy!) for just us: Tuesday! No friends. No appointments. No parties. No RSVP's. 

Nothing but the two of us. And my favorite part of this deal is since the only stipulation is that it's just us - date night can be anything. It can be exciting and planned, like attending a concert or play or a nice dinner out at one of our favorite sit down restaurants. You know, one of those dinners where you eat at the restaurant. They seat you and bring menus. Menus which are ultimately followed with the servers bringing you several courses over a lengthy period of time; a dinner where you're not rushing and have time to explore the menu, banter with the waitress, gaze into one another's eyes...

Or date night can be as simple as agreeing to avoid the afore mentioned chaos: the dressing up, making reservations, choosing the event, getting there. As fun as those action items can be - they can be exhausting (and expensive!). Agreeing to make speedy chili together whilst watching some crappy reality show can be just as rewarding; sometimes even more so. The time saved on zipping into a tight dress is reward in itself while we pad around in slippers and elastic; with ultimate plans to end of up naked on the couch.

One of our most memorable date nights consisted of me accompanying Jimmi to Costco while he picked up some new contacts. As we were leaving the store, their pizza slices started calling my pregnant self - almost by name! And just like that: date night became all about people watching while we stuffed our faces with greasy, cheesy pizza and splurged on Costco's fro yo swirl. A date night costing some $7 and change; and we observed, giggled and enjoyed every minute of the night, proving nothing fancy, expensive or elaborate had to be done.

Taking ourselves extremely serious during a romantic Costco dinner

Just so long as we had each other, we were satisfied. More than satisfied. And it left me wanting more. 

Ah the power of good company; it really makes you see how beautiful the little things are.  I am so grateful for all of it. Are you?  

...and her life was Simply wonderful

All my very best,

Emily 

Lewis = mine

I am enamored by the little things...

The little things make my life 

For instance I LOVE my last name. Funny - but true. My maiden name is Oehler and my entire life no one could ever spell my last name, much less pronounce it. For years I've taken my federal chances by opening mail addressed to Emily Dehler, Choiler, or O'heller and time and time again have responded to strangers trying with everything from Oleander to Oiler. 

"How exotic!" "How Foreign!" you might think...but No-notsomuch.
Now that I'm married to one of the world's sweetest not to mention handsomest men, Mr. Jimmi Lewis, I get a weird little high every time I get to share my last name and the person on the receiving end spells or says it correctly.

See? It really is the little things.

...and her life was Simply wonderful

All my very best,
Em