My big ole' belly!

OH NO! My doctor says that she thinks Teddy is gonna be one big boy! Maybe I shouldn't have eaten all of those turkey sandwiches after all. :(

Keep you posted...

My sister

My guardian angel on this Earth is my sister, Karlisa.

She is my bff, my therapist, my life coach, my cheerleader, and truly one of the most beautiful women - inside and out- that I know.

I wouldn't believe that I could be a good wife, mother, or professional without Karlisa's encouragement and although she's my sister, I'm certain God put her into my life to keep pushing me forward towards the path that God has destined for me.

I thank God for her because she is always there when it feels like no one else is, she continues to encourage me when many people count me out and for that I recognize the true value of her being in my life.

So I love you sister! Thank you for being the awesome, feisty, truly phenomenal woman that God made you to be. Don't change for anyone -- God made you with the perfect measurements of "salt and pepper" -- a created a special type of woman to go out and do great things -- things greater than you could ever imagine!

Love Always,

Your little sis

T-1 month!

Next week I will be 36 weeks into my pregnancy - which means that I only have one more month to go! I've decided, after much prayer, that once I get to 37 weeks (when the baby is fully developed) that I will use everything in God's disposal to help move this pregnancy along. I will eat avocados, I will drink aloe vera juice and cod liver oil, I will have wild and crazy sex, and I will do exotic and challenging yoga poses to help open up my pelvis and encourage Teddy to give a good kick to my uterus so that we can get this party started.

Okay, I'm actually just kidding but I am really over this pregnancy thing. As I look back over the past eight months, I thank God for blessing me with a non-complicated blessed pregnancy. I suspect that God, knowing me better than I know myself, knew that the changing physicality of my body would be enough for me to wrap my mind around and blessed me with a little baby that would take it easy on me.

So I'm grateful to God and I don't want to complain... yet I'm wondering how much more my body can take. I can't imagine how much larger my belly can grow and I'm not quite sure how much longer my spirit can go without a drink.

At times my nerves get so bad that I think I'm about to cry for no reason, but luckily I tell myself that its my hormones before I am inclined to kick Pat and Capone out of the house.

I deep clean my house about 2-3 times a week and I don't know if Capone knows that if he pees one more time on my fern plant that I am going to take him to get euthanized. I've shampooed the carpet in our apartment four times in the past two weeks and like clock-work, by day three Capone will come wagging his tail in front of me, pause, pee in my face, and run into his cage knowing that he has destroyed my sense of a bacteria-free home. He just doesn't know how close he is to becoming a bar of doggie soap.

Although I can't stop cleaning, I have stopped cooking and if Pat doesn't feel like feeding us then I have no problem fixing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the night. In fact, I LOVE TOASTED PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY SANDWICHES now and would kinda prefer if that's all I ate until the baby came regardless of what anyone thinks about it!

My pregnancy brain has made me a complete fool. I forget everything! On several occasions when I've gone to the doctor and had to pee in a cup, I go into the bathroom, pee in the toilet and don't realize until I wash my hands and see the plastic cup on the mirror that I've forgotten to do the most simple task that a pregnant woman could be asked to do.

I'm still losing my car in the parking lot every time I go shopping and now my vocabulary is suffering so bad that in meetings I commonly refer to sayings like, " I guess the...uhm, I guess, the doggies have come home to bark." My current state of affairs is just sad.

I know I sound crazy. I'm sleep deprived, big as an elephant, and unphotographable. I'm just tired so pray that I make it through the rest of this pregnancy in one piece.

There's a reason why you shouldn't travel after 7 months

I have come to the conclusion that most of the time my mother knows EXACTLY what she's talking about and when it comes to some of her old adages like - not traveling after your seventh month -- perhaps I should have taken her advice and stayed at home.

Babymoon #1 and #2 were two of the best times that I had in a long time. It was nice for Patrick and I to get away before having the baby -- to spend time with each other without worrying about who's gonna cook? who's gonna wash the dishes? and who's gonna walk the dog? We spent time just talking and eating and looking at the ocean -- minus the sex, drinks, and adventure sports, our babymoon was reminiscent of our time on St. Lucia just one year before on our honeymoon.

There were only three things that got in the way of these vacations being absolutely perfect: 1) A swollen, gassy stomach, 2) Swollen biscuits as feet, and 3) An inability to walk and talk (while in the sun) at the same time.

Somewhere between when I landed in Orlando (and I was a cute, round, fashionable pregnant woman) and a week and a half later when I was flying back to Chicago from St. Lucia, I became BIG AS H*LL. All of the dresses I had worn just two weeks ago were now tight in odd places and made me look like the pregnant woman that I never wanted to be -- the one whose belly in proportion to her body made people say, "oh no...look at that poooooor pregnant woman. She looks so crazy and tired."

But now that was me - big, tired, and crazy looking with feet that have grown 1 whole shoe size in 8 months.

Add a six hour flight that turned into 16 hours due to numerous delays and as you can imagine I was no happy camper. Between my butt being swore, my feet being swollen, and my stomach being gassy, I was willing to yell "ALL HAIL AL QUEDA!" if that meant I could get out of the Miami airport (where our layover back to Chicago was) into a comfortable chair.

Nevertheless, eventually we got home. After 16 hours of traveling, I was happy to see my apartment, my bed, and my couch. And even though I still couldn't get comfortable enough to go to sleep -- I sat in my chair, put my feet up, and decided to cancel my trip to Boston in two weeks cause home was the only place I wanted to be.

A wonderful story about hope, love, and God

Babymoon #2 was in St. Lucia, where Pat and I had the honor of witnessing a beautiful couple come together as husband and wife.

Their story is truly one of hope, love, and glorifies the greatness of God...so I just wanted to share an email that I sent sharing their beautiful love story. I hope it brings a smile to your face and renews your spirit!

Hello Gals!

Yes, I'm good for a random email out the blue but I hope this one brightens your day! :)

...And if I owe you a phone call from months ago then this should give me some points :)

Okay, so here we go...I am going to give you alot of background on both of them because it adds to their story so forgive me if this email gets long....So I went a wedding last week in St. Lucia and met the loveliest couple who had a love story that was both inspiring and moving. The groom's name was Shannon Allison (he went to Morehouse, was a Q, he was one of Pats groomsmen in our wedding.) and the bride's name was Francesca Danielle....

Part I - A little background...

So anyway -- Shannon was the first person Pat met at Morehouse. He was from Alabama, a linebacker, and the nicest person in the world -- until you made him made. He is the type of person that spells out curse words but (in his day) would not hesitate in whooping your azz if you provoked him. From what I understand, around his sophomore or junior year, Shannon got in a fight and almost died but this event changed his life. Although it was a tough climb, he made it out of Morehouse and eventually became an ordained minister in Birmingham, Alabama working.

(Stop)...so that's Shannon's background...

Okay, so Francesca - who everyone called Danielle, is the cutest little southern girl and about as straight laced as one could be (yes, she was a virgin). She went to Harvard law, graduated top of her class, and went to practice law in Atlanta. After a few years of grinding and working hard - she realized that something was missing and began to pray that God would bring her her husband. After a while, she began to give up and decided that she would focus on living the life that God had blessed her with the best way that she could and decided to go on missionary trips with her church from home (ie Birmingham) so that she could begin to see the world.

(Stop)...so that's Danielle's background...

Part II - Italy

So in November 2009, Danielle goes on a missionary trip to Italy with her pastor. On the trip she meets three important people - a girl named Linda who was her age and who she clicked with immediately and a couple from Miami named David and Ellen. On the 12 day trip they all become good friends and one night in Verona (the city that was the setting for Romeo and Juliet) Danielle lets out her frustration and tells them how she is so sad cause she feels alone and feels like she has been waiting on her husband but maybe God has been on another call. While there - the couple from Miami tell her to go under this terrance in the building, look up at the moon, tell God out loud everything that she wants in her husband. After she does this, they take a picture and say "this is your first picture as a wife." The trip eventually comes to an end, but before it does - Linda tells Danielle that she has a cousin who was supposed to come on the trip but didn't at the last minute, but that he is a nice guy, a minister, and thinks that they should meet. Her cousin was the one who encouraged her to go to Italy in the first place.

So somewhere in Alabama, Shannon was beginning to confide in his mentor (a female minister whose name that I can't remember) that he was starting to believe that he was never going to meet his wife. He'd met alot of women but never felt connected to them so thought that maybe that's not what God wanted for him at this time in his life. His mentor told him to be faithful and said that she was going to start interceding on his behalf. A few weeks later, while talking on her porch, she told him that God had revealed to her that his wife would "be on a camel with a red scarf" (yes crazy). Shannon thinking his mentor was clearly wrong, asked where he was going to see a woman on a camel in Birmingham - but his mentor told him that he believed the image that God showed her and wanted him to stay faithful.

So soon after the missionary trip to Italy concludes, Linda tells Danielle that she is going to give her cousin, Shannon, her phone number. After talking for a few weeks, they realize that there is a genuine connection and Shannon invites her to come by his house for Thanksgiving when she will be in town. But they both agreed that they should meet the day before for coffee -- just to make sure that the other person wasn't crazy or ugly.

So the day before, they meet for coffee and Danielle begins to explain that she's began to travel. She happens to have her camera in her purse where she shows Shannon her pictures from Italy and her first mission trip....Egypt. So there Shannon is, flipping through the pictures when he comes by a image that leaves him speechless. There in the desert was a picture of Danielle on top of a camel....wearing a long red scarf!!

So Shannon is thinking...am I really seeing this?? After a few moments of shock, he collects himself, decides not to tell her because he doesn't want to scare her off.

By the time he feels her in on the revelation that his mentor shared with him, it was two months later and they were already deeply in love.

By April they were engaged.

And on August 22, they were married!

Look at what God can do!

So the reason I am sharing this story is because there were a number of lessons that jumped out to me that I think we could all be reminded off.

1) God is still in the business of answering prayers

2) God is still in the business of performing "miracles" (ie blessings that seem so far-reaching, so unattainable, they we make ourselves believe that are beyond any hope of being realized)

3) There is a such thing as destiny and what God has for you is for you -- and nobody (even you) can mess that up...When Shannon decided not to go to Italy, that could have been the end of the story. Opportunity closed. Destiny changed. But God said "nope, this girl right here --- she is who I have for you" and God worked things out for them to be able to meet.

4) When you encourage someone else to pursue their blessings -- you may be blessing yourself. If Shannon hadn't encouraged his cousin to still go to Italy, she wouldn't have been able to introduce Shannon to his future wife.

5) Believe in the realization of the dreams that God places on your heart. If God places something that seems impossible on your heart....believe that he is working things out in the background to enable you to be able to be able to achieve that desire!

Okay...I'm done..but like I said...when I first heard the story, I just kept asking for more and more details cause it was so beautiful and such a testimony to people who know them. And I don't know every one's situations -- but I do know that we all have our own prayers and things that we hope and long for that sometimes seem so far away -- so I just wanted to share!

Hugs and Kisses,

Kirstin

My last vacation as a little girl...

The best decision that I made in the course of my 7.5 months of pregnancy was to take two "baby moons" - one with my husband and one without him. Well past my seventh month - I decided to spend a few days in Lake Buena Vista, Florida with my parents while they enjoyed their well-deserved annual two week vacation in their timeshare.

While I hate being away from my husband (sometimes), and I know that he wasn't particularly crazy about the idea of me traveling alone, I knew that a few days alone -- just me and my parents would be the last opportunity in my life to worry about nothing but being my parents' child.

So when I left out of the house before going to the airport I yelled "Goodbye Capone - Hope your daddy feeds you! Adios Pat, I hope you can find something to eat while I am gone!" -- and I was on my way.

Just walking through the airport terminal made me feel 10 pounds lighter. I bought myself a slice of pizza, a chocolate brownie, some sweet peach ice tea, and some hot chocolate. "Now this is life!" I thought to myself, taking joy in the fact that there was no one there to tell me to watch my salt or sugar intake.

Despite an uncomfortable airplane ride, my glee continued once I got to the Orlando airport. My brother (who now lives in Tampa) rode with my parents to come pick me up and after plenty of hugs and kisses - we all hopped in my parent's car and headed for the best seafood in town. (Merely stepping out into the fresh southern air began to reinvigorate my soul.)

As I sat around the table with my parents (who assured my brother and I that we could order anything that we wanted to eat) I was reminded of how wonderful the "good ole days were" when my parents provided everything that I needed, chastised me when I made an obviously poor decision, yet always provided me with the assurance that it was nothing that I could do to take change their love for me. Just being there - being loved, being taken care of, being watched over -- I felt a sense of comfort and security that I had almost forgotten existed in the six years I've lived on my own.

The following days were filled with precious simplicity, as we did nothing more than swim in the pool for hours, play cards for quarters, talk about life, and go shopping for souvenirs. They only tested my patience once -- when they spent 35 minutes trying to figure out which pool we should eat at when I bought them Chick Fil A.

Once it was time to go back to Chicago (in order to start baby moon #2) I couldn't let them see it but I almost cried. They had no idea how much the few days that we spent alone meant to me but I was sure that I would remember and relish this time for the rest of my life. In a moment, I will have my own child to care for -- a beautiful blessing who will surely be the prominent focus of my love moving forward. And true to form, I guess this last vacation as my parent's little girl was their way of showing me exactly how this thing called "unconditional love" is supposed to be done.

The Golden Girls...(Godmothers 'Honoris Causa')

Everyone has them -- the friends that you can't stand 90% of the time but love 200% of the time. In most circles, these friends (maybe 4 or 5 of them) all carry a distinct personality - the "nice one", the "mean one", the "crazy one", the "fun one", and the "momma". Unfortunately, these traits are often tied to each friend when they are in 3rd, 4th, or 5th grade and no matter how hard you try or no matter how much they evolve, you will always see them as the same little girl who used to forge signatures, or kiss little boys under the stair way, or beat up little boys during house parties like they did over 20 years ago.

Like many other fortunate women, I have a group of friends like this -- girls who I have known for well over 20 years. Through deaths, love, and fights -- marriage, children, relocation, and life-changing events -- these girls, no...these women are always around, somewhere nearby just in the event that there is a need for a celebration cocktail or one of us are about to have a nervous breakdown.

Time has moved us closer and further apart - physically is some cases and mentally in other cases - yet I am always amazed at the universe's ability to keep us in arm's reach of each other. Like I said, sometimes even when I can't stand them - I love them and I am convinced that after 20+ years, neither time nor space will change that.

Over the years, I've tried very hard to try to understand the ever-changing dynamics of my relationships with these women and just decided that these are complex and dynamic relationships that I may never fully comprehend. However, one day when I least expected it - the complexity of our friendships became overwhelming simple. There around the "cool one" we sang a song that has become a tradition for us at weddings, yet this time the words began to take on a new meaning...

"Thank you for being a friend.
Traveled down the road and back again.
Your heart is true -
Your a pal and a confidante.
And if you threw a party, and invited everyone you knew -
You would see the biggest gift would be from me
And the card attached would say
Thank you for being a friend."

And there it was. I realized while singing that no matter what life brought, no matter where I paths lead, 50 years from now, I'm sure that I will still be singing that song, with the same group of women, celebrating something -- and grateful that the universe knew better than I did and kept us in each other's arm reach for more years than any of us could have ever have imagined we'd be blessed with.