Pinterest WIN: DIY Canvas Photos

I am unabashedly unashamed to admit that I am an avid pinner (psst... follow me over here!). Now, I'm also not afraid to admit that 85 percent of what I pin to my well-meaning boards will never come to fruition. That's ok. I had good intentions. BUT. I do still have a 15% success rate going for myself. Thank you, thank you! I have successfully used Pinterest to find new and interactive ideas for my classroom (including my dry erase objective picture frames, our moon finders, and noodle butterfly life cycles). I've attempted several new recipes, most with successful outcomes (um, helloooo Oreo cheecake cookies!), and I even created a Valentine's Day gift for Nathan here. Pinterest has been my go-to digital idea book, and not too long ago I came across the next project I was ready to attempt - canvas photos.

When Finn was born, we had his newborn and first family photos taken by the wonderful Denise Feagans Photography. Naturally, we were (and still remain) in love with her photos of our sweet little redhead. I had this vision for what I wanted to do with those photos, and it included much more than simply framing them and hanging them on the wall. I wanted to showcase them. I looked into creating them into wrap canvases... but SWEET CHEESUS, have you seen how expensive they are? To get everything I wanted I probably would have had to sell Finn on the black market. No thanks.

A little dismayed but deeply motivated, I took to Pinterest to find a new idea. I came across a pin that linked me to Ginger over at Literally Inspired on how to create canvas photo look-alikes for a FRACTION of the cost. Color me thrilled! I wasn't going to have to sell my baby after all!

For this project, you need only simple materials. Pictures, canvases (mine are from Hobby Lobby), black paint, mod podge and an application brush. I bought my pictures from mpix. Although they can be a bit pricier than other online printers their quality is amazing, and I happen to believe you get what you pay for. For the application brush, I had success using a 1 inch sponge brush leftover from a previous project.

Step 1: Paint the edges of your canvas black. I did two coats.

Step 2: Using the application brush, spread a thin, even layer of mod podge over the top of the canvas.

Step 3: Working quickly, place the photo face up on the canvas. Smooth out. I had little (as in zero) trouble with bubbles, but that was probably because of the weight of the photos I had.

Step 4: Spread a thin layer of Mod Podge over the top of the photo. I debated about whether to complete this step (fear of ruining those pricier photos, you know), but ultimately I am beyond happy I did. I did a layer of horizontal swipes followed by a layer of veritcal swipes. I found this gave my pictures an almost-canvas look to them, which after all was the look I was going for.

That was it! Super simple! Dearest husband hung them for me and is convinced we now need a few more to even out the look. I might just oblige him.

Sand Through the Hour Glass

"If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty, except for the memory of how
They were answered by you..."

-Time in a Bottle, Jim Croce


I believe the phrase, "Time Flies!" is one of the most overused phrases people use. I also think it's one of the most accurate. I've always felt that time goes by much more quickly than we would like it to, but I'm starting to believe it's sent into fast-forward mode once you have kids. What I'm trying to say is... can you believe Finn is already over two months old?!



I spend a lot of my time with Finn simply looking at him. I study his face. I've memorized the blue of his eyes and the way he pouts in his sleep. I've burned into memory the way he throws his little arms above his head when he's full and sleepy. I know time is going to slip by and my baby is not going to be a baby any longer. It's bittersweet. I'm tremendously excited for him to walk, talk, play, eat REAL food, but at the same time I know these are moments that I will never get back. Maybe it's that realization that makes me so appreciative of him and this time I have with him - poopy diapers and midnight feedings included.

Finn had his two month appointment with his pediatrician on August 2. I have to admit, it was not an appointment I was looking forward to as I knew it was time for his first round of vaccinations. While with Dr. Leary he was all smiles, and that made me feel even more guilty.  When it was finally time, Nathan held him and I cowered behind the counter because I just couldn't watch someone "hurt" him and know there wasn't anything I could do. He got four shots, two in each leg, and when he cried, I cried.  And then guess what? He was over it. I think the ordeal was much more emotionally damaging for me than it was for him. We'll get to do it all again at his four month appointment!

 

Currently at two months, Finn is 12 pounds and 7 ounces. I'd tell you how long he is and the circumference of his head buuuuut we accidentally threw out the sheet. Whoops. That's what we get for trying to be organized! I do know he is in the 75th percentile for everything and he is growing well. He has also started responsive smiling. He's been smiling since about five weeks, but within the past couple of weeks he has really started smiling when he sees us smiling or because he likes faces/noises/people. It's incredibly rewarding to see those sweet gummy grins. He has also recently started cooing. He likes and responds to, "Agoooo," and it's adorable when you can tell how hard he's trying to vocalize. Also, (knocking on wood as I type this...) we are officially sleeping through the night! Well, Finn is. Nathan is still sleeping through the day and I get up several times in the night to check on the one who is getting a substantial amount of the Zzzs. Don't worry. I realize how fortunate we are for this to be happening so early. I am counting my blessings.



I am looking forward to seeing what month three has in store for our little stinker. I have been back to work for the past week setting up my classroom and getting everything organized for the new school year. Then, after next Friday, I will be taking eight additional weeks of maternity leave. I need to soak up as much time as I can with this little dude.

"If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you"

A Letter to My Former, Pregnant Self

Dear Naïve and Expecting Former Self,

This letter comes to you from a mere few months away. Probably from the time that you sit around and fantasize about... when your son is actually here and not trying to break out of the womb with his black belt karate moves. Let's get a couple of things out of the way. Yes, he is a beautiful, red-headed baby. You were silly to worry about what he would look like because, if we're being honest here, you would love him just as much if he had a third ear growing out of his chest (although hopefully they would remove something like that...).

I'm just going to throw this out there. I know you've heard it from everyone else but all of your vain worries about delivery are ridiculous. Honestly, you don't care what happens or who sees what. All modesty goes out the window. You aren't going to care that your hair is going to be a mess or that you aren't wearing makeup. You don't care if you poop on the table. Really, I swear it's the last thing on your mind. The only think you'll be thinking about is GET THAT BABY OUT.

Also, remember when the doctor said Finn was going to be in the 8 pound range? Yeah? Well, she lied. She lied BIG TIME. Your feet are swelling and your arm is numb all the time because you are carrying a 9 pound giant inside of you. And guess what? He's not coming out the normal way. Good thing you were ok, and even expecting a C-section because that's exactly what's going to happen. By the way, just to be clear, you are not one of those women who find birth to be a beautiful experience. Just throwing that out there so you don't get any ideas in your head.

While we're on the issue of delusions, you are going to have a severe case of the baby blues when you come home. You will cry. All. The. Time. for the first two weeks. You will mourn you old "life" where you and Nathan went out and did whatever you wanted whenever you wanted. Nathan will remind you that you that everything you did before you will still do now... you'll just be carrying a diaper bag instead of a Coach purse and toting around a baby (but let's be honest - it's not like you were living an on-the-go lifestyle to begin with).You will also cry because the dogs look sad (I wish I were kidding, but I'm not...). You will cry because you are tired. You will cry because you have NO IDEA what you are doing. You will cry because Finn is crying. You will go from daydreaming about tropical beach vacations and having millions of dollars to fantasizing about getting 8 uninterrupted hours of sleep - even going so far as to plan it several months in advance and disguising it as your "birthday wish". It is ok. Even though it doesn't feel like it, it will get better. In fact, when you are re-hospitalized for a week with appendicitis four days after bringing Finn home (a story for another day), you will begin to realize how silly you were to not value this new life you've been blessed with. Oh, and that's also around the time your hormones start to level out. That helps tremendously.

This next one is hard to admit. Your bond with your son is not going to be instantaneous. No one tells you that sometimes you don't always see rainbows and butterflies and cutesy little hearts floating around everywhere the moment you lay eyes on your child. You are going to come home from the hospital with him, sit him in his carrier in the living room floor and think, "Now what do I do with this thing?" Then he's going to scream and you will not have a clue how to make him stop. That's when that crying thing I mentioned earlier happens. Rest-assured knowing that you will figure it out, eventually. But one day he's going to be looking at you with his blue eyes and he's going to give you a big, gummy smile, and he'll make his weirdo baby noises. That will be the moment you fall in love with him. That will be the day his cries become easier to deal with, when your patience triples. It also helps when he screams and doesn't stop for anyone but you. :)

Since we're being real, you are going to consider it a successful day if the baby is kept alive and you get to shower and/or brush your teeth. Truth. There are still going to be moments of pure and utter frustration. Like the night you take a shower (success!) and even BLOW DRY your hair, and then Finn pukes right in it ten minutes later. Or the time(s) you drop a diaper poop-face down on the floor... But the thing that makes it all worth it is him. You don't even know what you are getting yourself in to. I mean that in the best and worst ways. We are still rookies at this, but if feeling what we feel now at only six weeks in is any indication of what we're in for, then this parenthood thing is going to be amazing.

Keep your chin up and know that what's coming your way is normal. It gets better.

Love,
Me

Finn's Birth Story

Growing up, there is the constant alluding to the children you may have in your future. Everything from your own comments of, "My children will never do that..." to your parents threats of, "I hope you have children exactly like you." We all know it's a part of the circle of life; we are pre-programmed to continuously be thinking about our futures, and for most of us, children are in that big picture. Yet we usually follow up those ideas with the vague tag of someday. SOMEDAY when I have children... SOMEDAY when I have my own family...

At 6:09 pm on Friday, May 31, 2013, that hypothetical SOMEDAY became a TODAY. A today, tomorrow, forever. 

Thus we begin the story of the birth of my firstborn.

I don’t know how it happened, but Finn’s estimated due date was, by pure luck, the day after school let out for summer. I won’t lie… throughout the last few weeks of school there were several occasions where I basically begged Finn to make his appearance a little early. While I wasn't miserable, per se, the fact that my feet were thrice their normal size and the carpal tunnel I developed in my right hand did not make my days as a teacher the most pleasant. Ultimately, however, Finn did not make an early debut. A peek into his stubborn side? Perhaps. Earlier in May, Dr. Murray and I had scheduled a backup plan - also known as an induction date - for May 31. “Just in case,” she had said. It’s funny... I spent the entire pregnancy listening to people tell me that there was no way I was going to carry all the way until my due date, and I honestly believed them. So when May 29 came and went with no sign of little Finn, I was disappointed. I tried most of the old wives' tales for inducing labor, from going on long walks to eating fresh pineapple. I even went with Carrie to Charlottesville to eat the fabled lemon drop cupcakes at Cappellino's Crazy Cakes that are said to jump start your labor. Nothing. 

In the wee hours of May 31, I started having contractions. Seriously. The date of my induction and I started labor on my own. Typical. The contractions started around 3:30 am and at that point were hitting consistently every 15 minutes. While they weren't terrible at that point, they were certainly noticeable. I took a shower around 4:00 am and tried to distract myself, knowing that I couldn't go in to the hospital unless a.) they were happening every 3-5 minutes, or b.) it was 8:30 am, time for our scheduled induction. Well, the contractions never increased in frequency so we went in at our scheduled time.

Once we were at the hospital, I met my nurse, Karin, and told her that I had been having contractions. I changed into my amazingly attractive hospital gown, had my IV started, and basically waited with Sarah and Nathan until 9:00 when my doctor came in to break my water. At that point, I was 5 centimeters dilated and 80% effaced. Within five minutes of having my water broken, my contractions started coming every 3-5 minutes. I was officially in transitional labor, the worst phase of it all and feeling everything. Let me just say, to every woman who willingly (or unwillingly) goes the all-natural route… I tip my hat to you. In fact, you can have my hat. NO. WAY. Would I ever be able to do that for an extended period of time. I went in knowing that I wanted an epidural, but I wasn’t able to have one until I had a liter of IV fluids pumped in my body. At one point, I looked at Nathan and told him, “Nope. I can’t do this,” and tried to get out of the bed. And at another time, Sarah and Nay were trying to “coach” me through a contraction and I said, “Just stop talking.” Haha, I love telling that part now, but seriously, in that moment it was all I could do to make it to the other side.

The anesthesiologist finally came in and gave me my epidural which I found to be quite an easy process, besides having to curl my back through contractions. Once that was done, I was a happy camper. The only way I knew I was having a contraction was if I looked at the machine that showed them happening. At 11:00 am, I was checked again and told that I was 10 centimeters dilated, and 100% effaced. Nurse Karin said, “I think we’re going to have a lunchtime baby!” We started alerting the troops that baby Harris was well on his way!

Well. Turns out Baby Harris had his own plans for coming into this world. While I was fully ready, he was not. His head was turned to the wrong side so I spent a couple of hours in different positions trying to get him to change the way he was facing. We also tried something, entirely awkward, called a passive descent, because as it turns out, he wasn’t dropping like he should have been. Nevertheless, I pushed for 2 hours trying to get him to make a descent. Finally, around 5:00 (way past that lunchtime arrival) my doctor presented us with two options. We could either continue to try different positions to get him to drop, but that meant additional HOURS of pushing, or we could opt for a C-section. At that point  I was exhausted, running a fever, and just plain done. Nathan and I decided a C-section was probably in our best interest. We were ready to meet our son.

The next hour was spent prepping me for the section. They changed out my epidural medicine for something much stronger that gave me the shakes, put an anti-nausea patch behind my ear, shot me full of antibiotics and another anti-nausea medicine and wheeled me out to the OR.

I remember everything from that OR room. I remember how they rolled me to the table and put up the blue curtain. I remember Nathan being able to rejoin me once they prepped me further for the surgery and him being in his sterile covering that I told him reminded me of his beekeeper Halloween costume. I remember asking them to move the surgical light because it was reflective and I could see my abdomen. My doctor asked my guess on the weight, and I randomly said my bet was 8 lbs, 2 oz. She said her guess was 8 pounds flat. Dr. Murray did an incredible job chatting with me and helping make me more comfortable. My arms were splayed out on either side of me, and I was shaking so badly from the medicine that the nurse had to hold my right arm down the entire time because my blood pressure wouldn’t take. It was quite an interesting experience.

While I remember everything, it all went by so quickly. Dr. Murray told me that I was going to feel a lot of pressure, and then before I knew it he was out. And then I heard, “That is a big baby! He is way larger than 8 pounds…” The nurse at the table said, “6:09 pm. Nine pounds three ounces!” I looked at Nathan and said, “Did she just say nine pound three ounces?!” No wonder he hadn't dropped. Then, I heard Finn cry. And I cried because it was beautiful. I spent nine months worrying that everything that could possibly go wrong would, and to hear his little cry just overwhelmed me in the most tremendous way. They handed him over to Nathan and I immediately threw up in a bucket. Haha! So much for all that anti-nausea medicine. 

Once they finished stitching everything back up, Nathan laid Finn across my chest and I held him until we made it back to the birthing room. I was still shaking severely, and I was utterly terrified I was going to drop him so I handed him to Sarah, who had been waiting in there the whole time. And of course, she cried too. Our families were finally able to come back and see him, and that’s when my memories get really foggy. Everyone came in to see and love on Finn and I think at that point I was just straight exhausted. And full of Duramorph.

Over the next few days we had so many visitors and people that wanted to come see our little boy. I genuinely loved seeing everyone fall in love with this little creature that I had a part in making, and carrying for nine months. All my worries throughout my pregnancy seemed so trivial when he was in my arms. We finally made it home as a family of three on June 4, where we continue to learn and grow into this new “normal” that is parenthood.

We’ve already had some bumps in the road to recovery, including my readmission to the hospital (for a WEEK) for appendicitis, and Nathan developing kidney stones while on full-time daddy duty. BUT. We are thankful to be healing and we are looking ahead to healthier days and more time spent with our little man. 

Forever Strong

One of the things I love about life is how it takes you unexpected places. I know that when I sit here and think about where I'll be in five, ten, fifty years, it's probably nothing like where I'll really be. The dreams and goals I currently have will shift as I continue to grow as a person, and grow in my relationships with people around me. I think it's safe to say that this rings true for most people.

Did I imagine that Nathan would enter a career in Law Enforcement six years ago when we first started dating? Absolutely not. When he was offered a position as a Sheriff's Deputy last December, it was certainly one of those hands life dealt us that caught us a little by surprise. We decided to take the opportunity and run with it. After all, who knew where it was going to take us? Today, I sat in the audience and watched as my husband walked across a stage at Mary Washington University and completed his Law Enforcement Basic Training, and proud doesn't even begin to cover how I felt about it. My heart is literally full of pride, love, and downright admiration for him. If there is one thing I can say about Nathan, it is that he is deserving. He works hard for everything he has in his life and his completion of the Academy is no exception.

So yes, while life would certainly be easier if we could determine the exact paths we take or where we end up, the reality is sometimes we find ourselves in much better places, or realizing goals we didn't know we had. And that's what makes it so fun.

Oh, Baby!

When I first started this blog, I always told myself that I would use it to document huge life events. I had this grandiose idea in my head that whenever Nathan and I decided to get pregnant that I would document every little milestone so I would never forget the experience.
Well.
Nathan and I did find out we were pregnant... in September. Which means that I am currently thisclose to having this bun completely baked. Have I updated at all? Nope. I'm pretty sure it says somewhere in my horoscope overview that Leos tend to start big projects and fail to see them through because they get bored. Or lazy. Whichever is probably correct in this case.
I decided that since we are honing in on our estimated delivery date (May 29) that if I want to remember any of this in years to come I should probably crack down and start documenting what I do still remember. I'm pretty sure that thing they say about not having much free time when baby is here is most likely true, and if I do have a spare moment I'm probably going to want to sleep or shower or simply stare at the wall before sitting down to blog about a pregnancy that has come and gone. So, here we go!

How we found out:
I have read that some women just "know" they are pregnant long before a pregnancy test produces that second pink line. I am one of those women. I KNEW I was pregnant on Monday, September 17 when a colleage of mine gave me five extra crayon sets to use when instructing her class so my students' supplies were left alone. My response to her generosity? I sobbed. Over crayons. Fortunately, it didn't happen in front of her, and I was smart enough to realize crying over crayolas as not a typical reaction people have. It was in that moment that I just KNEW, and I left immediately to go to CVS to get a box 3 boxes of tests. I even got the ones that test "six days" sooner as I still hadn't technically missed a period (who has time to wait for that?). I went home and took one and it came back negative. I was so anxious that I didn't care you are supposed to use "first morning" pee. So, the next morning that's exactly what I did. Again, the test turned up negative. At this point, I was beginning to think maybe I really was a loony toon and crying over colored wax was a new personality trait I'd recently developed. I decided to test one more time on Wednesday, September 19. I remember watching the negative line show up and feeling so exasperated that I didn't even wait the three minutes - I just took my shower. When I got out, I decided just to peek at the test. I saw the FAINTEST pink line imaginable. So faint in fact, I wasn't truly convinced it was actually there. By this time, 15 minutes had passed since I'd actually taken the test and I wondered if the steam from the shower caused the line to appear. I walked over to Nathan, who was oblivious to all of these gut instincts I was having about a potential baby, and said, "Nathan. Wake up. I think I'm pregnant." His response? "Why?" And my answer, "Because the test says so."
Remember how I said that pink line was faint? Nathan swore he couldn't see it; still swears to this day that it wasn't really there. That entire day I Googled and rationalized and finally decided that it was probably a false positive (which don't exist in pregnancy test land. Either you make hCG or you don't), or something malfunctioned with the test. I even sent a text to Nathan that said, "The more I think about it, you're probably right. I hope I didn't get your hopes up." I was patient enough to wait until the next morning to test again, and this time, there was no mistaking the second line. We were pregnant. I won't go into how many additional tests I took just to "double check," but believe me, it was a ridiculous amount.

How we told our families:
The first people we told were Nathan's parents, the day we found out. We were too excited and anxious to wait and decided we wanted our close family to know in case something happened. We made the deal that he would tell his parents, and I would tell mine. We were too lame to come up with something creative, so he literally just said, "Angie's pregnant." Ha!
With my parents it was a little different. We stopped by right after we shared the news to Nathan's parents, and my mom was the only one home. Previously, she had bought two baby onesies she planned to cut apart and use in a quilt. I simply told her, "You know those VCU onesies you bought? You might not want to cut them quite yet." She looked at me and asked why, and I said, "Because I think there's going to be a baby to fill them." So original, right? I thought so too, at the time...
My mom made us wait around for my dad to get home so we could fill him in on the newest happening in our lives. When he got home, my mom told him, "Angie and Nathan have something to tell you!" At this point, I felt sort of awkward telling my dad I was pregnant, so I kept fumbling with my words while he waited and Nathan laughed. Really, it was awkward. I ended up asking him if he wanted to guess and he responded, "I'm pretty sure I already know." I finally said, "Looks like you're going to be a grandpa!"
Seriously, an awkward and poorly planned revelation.
The next person we told was my sister. I waited until the weekend to tell her (meanwhile, I'm still peeing on sticks just to do that double-checking thing). She stopped by the house and figured it out after I told her I wanted to show her something. The best reaction came from my brother and his girlfriend. Nathan wasn’t with me when I decided to tell them over Sunday dinner. I remember not being able to get Jake’s attention and finally just blurting, “I have something to say.” Side note: for as long as I can remember, whenever this phrase is stated in my family someone always says, “You’re pregnant!” to the utterer. This time was no exception, and when I said, “Yes,” he and Kelsey just stared at me. Jake said, “No, really,” and Kelsey said, “I don’t know whether you’re serious or joking.” Hey, we kid a lot in my family apparently. When I was finally able to convince them that I was, in fact, serious, they were both super excited. In fact, all of our family members were over the moon, or “tickled” as my mom likes to say.

Our First Ultrasound
Unfortunately, our first ultrasound came at about 6 weeks due to a complication. I went to bed with cramping, and woke up with cramping as well. Don’t google “cramping 6 weeks pregnant” unless you really want to scare yourself silly. I went in to the doctor preparing to hear the worst, but was actually pleasantly surprised to find out it was only an ovarian cyst that had ruptured. During this ultrasound we also got to see the heartbeat. Just a tiny little flutter in a sack of weird cells, but still, there was a heartbeat.

Hearing the Heartbeat
See, this is why I wish I would have kept up with these little highlights. I don’t remember the exact date of when we heard the heartbeat, but I do remember the exact moment because I burst into tears (note, it still wasn’t the sobs that shook me over those damn crayons…). I know it sounds so cliché, but it was seriously the most beautiful noise I’d ever heard, and still is to this day.

Sharing with our Friends
Nathan and I waited until after our Down Syndrome screening was cleared at 12-weeks to make the announcement to our friends, though we did have many that were already speculating (I’m looking at you, Carrie). It was right around Thanksgiving time and we decided we would hang our most recent ultrasound on the refrigerator to see how long it would take people to notice it was my name at the top. Let me tell you, we have some incredibly unobservant friends. Essentially, Nathan had to point to it and say, “Look at this!” before anyone noticed. We shared our news with the world the day after Thanksgiving by posting a picture of me, with what I thought was a baby bump at the time ( I know what a baby bump is now!) and our whiteboard announcing the future arrival of Baby Harris. The news was officially out.

Baby’s First Movements
Again, this is another moment in time that I know I’ll never forget. It was December 14, 2012, the day of the Sandy Hook Shootings. My mom was in the hospital having surgery that day, and I spent the morning watching the news of the shootings unfold in the waiting room. Oh, and looking up inappropriate Grumpy Cat memes with my dad. When we finally were able to see my mom mid-afternoon, I remember standing in her room and feeling these twinges in my abdomen that I had never felt before. I was standing so still and focusing so hard on feeling them again that my grandmother asked me if I was ok. It didn’t happen again right away, but a couple of hours later I felt them again. Over the next few days as they became more frequent, I knew that what I felt in my mom’s hospital room were definitely fetal movements.

Pink or Blue

Up until the point of our 20 week level two ultrasound, I had been asked if I had any feelings as to whether Baby Harris was a boy or a girl probably a hundred times. Sarah, Kelsey and my mom all thought it would be a girl, while Nathan, Jake and my dad all said boy. Typical. Colleagues and friends also had guesses that were all over the place, but I, personally, had no idea. Going into the ultrasound, I would have put money on a boy only because when I dreamed about our baby, it was always a boy I dreamt about. But other than that I never had any feelings one way or another. I remember sitting on the table and watching the ultrasound tech take measurements of what seemed to be every single part of the baby. The ultrasound lasted about 30 minutes, and the gender reveal was the very last part. I was incredibly anxious, especially when baby flipped and the tech made a comment that implied if he didn’t turn around we wouldn’t get to see the goods. Fortunately, the baby turned back around in time for the UT to say, “Let’s see what we’re working with here,” followed by, “Oh yes. Do you see anything?” I was pretty sure I saw a little penis, but of course Nathan said, “No. I can’t see anything.” The tech zoomed in and pointed out the parts, and Nay still said, “I don’t see it.” Haha! Out of the six pictures we received that day two of them are of his boy parts with an arrow pointing directly to them. I’m sure this is just for Nathan. We were too excited to plan a gender reveal party and instead just shared the news via text message with our friends and family.

 
What’s in a Name?
Oh, the name game. Nathan and I went around and around with names. At one point, I was pretty sure we were going to have a nameless baby because we couldn’t agree on ANYTHING. I actually called him, Nameless, a few times because I was that convinced. Nathan didn’t have a lot to offer, except for the name Jake, which of course is the name of my brother. I vetoed this immediately (no offense, Jake!), and Nathan essentially shot down all of my names before they ever left my mouth. Nathan seemed to like more traditional names and I like names that are unique, which left us in a really tough spot. At one point, we discussed the name Finn. We loved Finn, but didn’t like the one syllable name with the one syllable middle name we had chosen. I threw out Finley as an alternative, but we didn’t spend much time discussing it and I assumed it was because Nathan didn’t like it. Per usual. A few weeks later while conversing over Nameless, Nathan said, out of the blue, “I really like the name Finley and we can just call him Finn.” And there it was! Our baby boy had a name!


I love this name. I love that it’s unique without having to be a made-up name (although for a minute I did convince my brother we were naming him Renesmee, from the Twilight saga). For the record, Finley is an Irish male name that means Fair Warrior. I’m pretty sure we won’t be finding any key chains or coffee cups with his name on them, but oh well.

Nathan and I are currently enjoying guessing which traits he is going to inherit from each of us and imagining who Finn is going to be. We had a 3D ultrasound on March 9 and apparently, he has a lot of Nathan’s physical features. I hope this means that he’ll have my blue eyes and maybe my dimples. Nathan wants him to be athletic and I want him to love to read. I think he’s going to have my temper and Nathan’s stubbornness (let’s face it, with two red-headed parents he doesn’t really stand a chance here). I want him to be a mama’s boy, but idolize his daddy like I do.

No matter how we play it, I am beyond excited to meet our first child; our son, Finley Knight. Ready or not, he is certainly on his way.

Year One

Today Nathan and I are celebrating one year of marriage. One year! It's incredible to me how quickly the year flew. It seems like only a few weeks ago we were making the final preparations for our big day!

While it was a beautiful day for both of us and our families, I know it was only the beginning of our story. Even these past 366 (it was a leap year, you know), have been filled with both joy and sadness. We've experienced so much in the past twelve months that have made us a stronger couple... a stronger team.

Our plans to celebrate this anniversary include going out to dinner and eating the top tier to our wedding cake. While this isn't much to some people, it is more than enough for us. We're together. We're healthy. We're happy.

So as I end this blog post, I look forward to the future with the best possible companion I could imagine having by my side. I've heard people say the first year is the hardest. Well, if that's the case, we've got the next 75 years in the bag.