Pretty Nursery Prints

Little Deer by En Rouge



Dream Prints by East Witching



Goodnight, Friend by Sarah Jane Studios



My Little Lamb by Sarah Jane Studios



Mermaids by Sarah Jane Studios



Sprung by Under a Blue Sky



Deer and Cupcake print by Esoule

Peeks at Bradly

That's a little leg right across the middle of the picture with a foot pointing upward.



Directly in the middle, you can see her arm bent with her hand covering her face. If you look closely, she has a pretty impressive bicep.



I saved the best for last--that's her tiny left foot.

Random Photo Dump from 2006ish-2008ish

Look at sleepy, puppy Lu!

Girly Mobiles

Discontinued Pottery Barn Kids butterfly mobile


Wooden mobile



Modern-mobile-that-could-easily-be-reproduced-for-much-cheaper

Lu Learns to Lounge.

We all sat back and watched a little Flipping Out and Boardwalk Empire last night together. It was relaxing.

Week 18

Charlotte Bradly Wooten is the size of a mango!

Girth and the Gravity of Growth

I've been wearing tight shirts to get attention lately.

Bradly and I are growing in all sorts of interesting ways, and people are starting to take notice. I don't mind people touching my stomach. Normally, I think I would. I'm kinda a side-hug, no-touching type gal. But I accept this as par for the course. It seems pretty normal that someone would want to touch a growing, if hidden, baby. I think the whole process is pretty fascinating and miraculous and mysterious. Of course, people are curious and instinctively reach out to it. That's okay by me.

However, I have to confess that I sometimes get a sort of uncomfortable, self-conscious feeling about the looking, the monitoring, the intense noticing of my body. There are all sorts of paradoxical, contradictory things happening inside this introvert. I like the attention, and I really like to talk about all things Bradly-related, but it's odd to be the subject of so many gazes. And I get told that I'm not so big for 4.5 months, which in some ways is good, I guess. But in some ways makes me feel like my belly is a little anticlimactic or unimpressive. Some days I want a roaring monster Mother Earth belly that everyone will recognize and respect and genuflect toward. And some days I just feel fat and saggy and past my youthful prime.

We went out to a bar on Saturday night for a friend's birthday, and getting dressed to be in that setting and getting dressed as a pregnant lady didn't mesh easily for me (Where's my black lace muumuu?)... Quite honestly and vainly, I don't want people to think this belly is just a chubby pot belly, which obviously is not the end of the world, and why do I even care what these strangers see? Aren't I a mother now? Mothers (can look sexy but) don't need to look sexy... They are secure in their identity.

But I didn't feel that way. I kept putting my hand on my belly while we were there to indicate that this is a baby--you better recognize. In the future, if you see me putting my hands on my belly, that's what I'm doing. I'm grappling with my self image, announcing with authority that I used to look better than this, no, really, I did.

While we were at the bar, there was a cute, cute girl there. She had on a very chic, very casual, backless orange shirt, and she seemed to be one of those people who are just comfortable in their own skin, just having fun. And though I know there's absolutely no need for or benefit in comparison, I compared my own dumpy status to hers. And I was afraid. I was afraid of never being that girl again--not that I ever was--but I was afraid of being a mom and wearing flowery capri pants and boxy white t-shirts for forever and never getting dressed up to go out for drinks again. I was afraid of, not just the change in my body, but the change in my life, too.

We don't even go out to bars anymore, so why am I envious of this girl? I don't know. I'm ready for this new life with Bradly and excited to think about all the things we'll be doing with her. I get teary thinking about the little diapers and getting a swing set and dance lessons and shopping for a prom dress and shopping for a wedding dress and every little thing in between. And I love that big picture so much. But that girl at the bar on Saturday seemed to represent something else entirely that was passing away. And I worried that I might miss it.

Booties of a Different Variety

These little peacock baby booties from She's So Crafty Goods are my first official girlie purchase for She Woo. And, actually, if we don't count the armoire, our first official preparatory purchase period.

When I told Carter about them in the car yesterday, he turned and gave me a look like, "Oh no, here we go. She is going to go berserk over all this crap. I'm going to have to restrain her in a dungeon or something."

And we had to have a conversation where I convinced him that this was just a single celebratory token and that I would remain calm and frugal even though I'm SO EXCITED AND JUST DYING FROM THE PRECIOUSNESS OF EVERYTHING.

But, nevertheless, keeping my wits about me just the same. I swear.

I simply remember my favorite slings and then I don't feeeeel soooo baaaad!

the pretty Serena & Lily sling



Also the Moby wrap and the less expensive Moby Wrap




And, of course, BabyBjorn


Any advice from the moms?

Foreshadowing Fall

Aubin & Wills via frolic

Barely a Bootie

If I were to ever wear a bootie, this would be the one. It's Bootie Lite.

Ahem, I Have an Announcement.

Wee Woo is officially a She Woo.

(Thanks, Kitty, for the new and improved nickname.)

3 Best

1. This kitchen, but the pendants and ceiling in particular, from Pink Wallpaper




2. Dulce de leche brownies from David Lebovitz



3. Recovering from shots, numbness, and the horror of the black jaw jack that held my mouth open at the dentist's office . I hate you, black jaw jack. But I hate you, shots, more. Stopping by the bakery afterward and promptly rewarding myself with one cherry and one apple turnover drowning in shiny glaze made it all go away. Cheers to sugar!

Apple Art: Three Ways

Albrecht Durer woodcut of Adam and Eve via here

"The Apple Orchard” by Rainer Maria Rilke Come let us watch the sun go down and walk in twilight through the orchard's green. Does it not seem as if we had for long collected, saved and harbored within us old memories? To find releases and seek new hopes, remembering half-forgotten joys, mingled with darkness coming from within, as we randomly voice our thoughts aloud wandering beneath these harvest-laden trees reminiscent of Durer woodcuts, branches which, bent under the fully ripened fruit, wait patiently, trying to outlast, to serve another season's hundred days of toil, straining, uncomplaining, by not breaking but succeeding, even though the burden should at times seem almost past endurance. Not to falter! Not to be found wanting! Thus must it be, when willingly you strive throughout a long and uncomplaining life, committed to one goal: to give yourself! And silently to grow and to bear fruit.

3 Best

1. Julia quotation from Pink Wallpaper


2. Lemon Rosemary Soda (a nice little psuedo cocktail) from The Dinner Files



3. Baby booties from Sunflower Express Etsy shop

Two for One

I, once again, procrastinated my produce picture for the week, so here are Weeks 16 and 17, taken back to back.


Week 16 is supposed to be a turnip, but I don't know if my grocery store's turnips are just pygmies or maybe turnips are out of season or maybe they've been trimmed down smaller than they'd normally be, but Wee Woo passed that pitiful little turnip size a long time ago. For the sake of continuity, I posed with it anyway.



By Week 17, Wee Woo is now the size of a sweet potato... which seems more realistic to me. Hopefully, Wee Woo doesn't have a tail like the sweet potato does.

Also, in breaking news, I think I'm feeling the little one moving around in there. I mostly feel it when I'm lying down. I doesn't feel at all like butterflies or fluttering or a light brush like it's supposed to, more like he/she is rolling over or swimming around. I even think I've felt a couple of pointed little pokes on the right side of my belly... but it's pretty early, and it could totally be my imagination.

My Hero in Bangs

Okay, enough about bangs already, right? But I just want to say that I'm stalking Rockstar Diaries' bangs.

They are, um, bangin... so to speak.



And she's pregnant.

Bangs and Other Leaps of Faith

I like to adjust my hair style according to significant life changes, but, also, let's be honest, I have a gigantic 5-finger forehead, and I've been thinking about bangs for awhile. Some of those weekly preggers pictures put me over the edge. Ay-yi-yi.

I used to talk to my students about the significance of a female character choosing to change the hairstyle on top of her head usually signaling a shift inside her head, too. The fall after I got married, I tried to get stylish and chopped off my hair to achieve the lamentable look I'm sporting on my driver's license picture. Then I very reasonably grew it out for a few years. The summer I quit teaching, I again chopped it to represent my new freedom for the shackles of crazy teenagers and kooky, Renaissance-fair-loving department heads. Then I felt naked and wanted to grow it again. I'll chalk up this particular hair change to the imminent entrance of our little one. If we can finally take the plunge to parenthood, certainly I can cut a few inches off the front, right? In other words, I'd like to dedicate these bangs to Wee Woo...

and this video to Kendrick.