We had an ultrasound done today. It was the one where they told us the sex of our unborn child.
But instead of telling us the sex, we had the techincian tell our camera.
And later in the evening we had an intimate gathering of the closest friends and family.
Oh, and we had snacks, because I love snacks.
And we all found out together; it was epic
I drool at night. This recently came to my attention. And when I say came to my attention, I mean I wake up in the middle in the night with so much drool on my face, pillow and connecting parts, that I can make a fresh and slimy batch of lemonade, or sangria. Anyone want some? There’s plenty to go ’round.
And then in the morning, after I guzzle down an icy glass of saliva lemonade, I look in the mirror and see this patch of tiny zits that point downward on either side of my mouth. It’s like my face is sending me a message that I drool at night, and I’m a disgusting person. I GET IT, FACE!
Like I need that kind of judgement from my own face. Gawd, what a bitch.
Something needs to be done, because my husband doesn’t particularly enjoy waking up each morning soaked in my spit. Or maybe he does, I’ll have to ask…
Regardless, I need to do something.
First thing I thought of was one of those cone things you put on your dog:
You know, to contain the drool. But then when I really thought about it I was afraid of drowning. Like I said, it’s a lot of saliva, and I don’t think it would be fun to wake up dead. My obituary would say: Woman died in her home last night while wearing a dog cone. She drowned in her own drool. That’s some embarrassing shit. I don’t want to go down like that.
Maybe I could tape a washcloth up to my bottom lip.
Or stick a few cotton balls in my mouth.
I’d sleep on my back, but apparently when you’re pregnant you’re not supposed to do that. Plus, I snore when I’m on my back.
Crap.
So, there’s not a whole I can do about it. I guess I’ll just be the lady with lots of sangria in her fridge. OLE!
You are TOO funny girl!
You could get one of those things that dentists have that suck up the drool. That might work. xD
If live gives you lemons, honey, well…you know the rest.
Well, I have the opposite problem. I have to wear a bite guard on my bottom teeth and now when I sleep with it, my mouth is drier that the Mojave. I guess I end up breathing through my mouth. While I don’t wake up in wetness, I wake up with a Sham-Wow in my mouth!
dude, being pregnant means you get the bed ALL TO YOURSELF! so no worries about drooling then.
congrats by the way!
I could never ever escape the “pregnancy drool”…and the farther along I got,the worse I got. Yuck. I can’t even tell you how many pillows I went through. I’m not sure this is comforting or not, but we’re on the waiting list to adopt a Newfie…best dog EVER. They drool a lot. We plan on typing a bib around his neck. Maybe you could rig something up like that.
Just kidding. I think.
Go there, and read it again. Because you love me.
I’m pregnant. You know that. But let me translate for you:
It means I want to do nothing all day. A perfect day would be to lay in a pool of chocolate pudding with a really large spoon. And I’m pretty sure that’s totally attainable. I mean, I’ll grab the 45 boxes of chocolate pudding, because they’re on sale at Target, and you let me borrow your kiddie pool, but not before you clean out all the piss and slimy stuff out of the bottom, and we’ll start filling! But then you have to leave, because I need to be alone. With my pudding. Get out. Now.
But instead I’m tending to a two year old with a vocabulary that only includes the words, “I WANT MILK!” and “THAT’S MY IPHONE!” and “IT SMELLS LIKE POOP IN HERE!” And then while I’m pretending to be dead on the couch and trying to be really really still so when she sniffs me out and expects me to feed her, she’ll move on and find some other food. I pretty sure I dropped a piece of donut behind the couch a week ago. I’m sure she’ll find it.
2 is old enough for her to drive through the Mc Donald’s drive thru, and order a kids’ happy meal and a cheeseburger for mom, right?
Oh, and also means I’d like to wear a duster. I saw Kathy Griffin’s mom wearing it on the My LIfe on the D list. Instantly I was calling my Grams to find out what the name of that post menopausal catalogue I always thumb through at her house. But before I hang up I tell her I’m going to buy her giant T.V. remote and a yard gnome, because you can’t call yourself an old person and NOT have a giant T.V. remote and a yard gnome. I’m giving her some street cred at the Bingo Hall, and I’m pretty sure she’ll leave me something sparkly in her will because of my thoughtfulness.
So I order my duster and Frick Yaa! I look hot. A big dress that’s not fancy, with a zipper in the front, for me to do housework and cook? Yes please. But no to the housework and cooking. I’ll just wear it while swimming in my pudding pool. Spoon please.
Picture please!!!
Oh no, no photos. It’s better if you just use your imagination. Promise.
When my kids were little and called for me to ask for stuff, I’d be all, “Mom’s not here right now. Mom will be back tomorrow. Hold your questions until then.”
It wasn’t as effective as playing opossum with the kid, though. You’re a wile. e. coyote, Beckey Brumfield.
mmmm…puddin.
This made me laugh a lot. Thank you for a good dose of your sassy humor.
I love T.V. and I’m not ashamed to admit it. And I would never, EVER considering getting rid of if for a more simplistic life style, or to enrich my way of living, or any other ridiculous reason like that, because I love it, and I would tongue kiss it if I could, or if it could kiss me back, but it can’t, and an inappropriate fondling will have to suffice.
T.V. brings me much joy in the form of The Bachelorette, 30 Rock, Kathy Griffin, Top Chef, Flipping Out, and come to think of it, anything on Bravo. And I’m completely convinced that if I didn’t watch my favorite shows, my hair would burst into flames, I would sprout a tail, my stand mixer would malfunction, all my shoes would turn into lobsters, and I would die.
In that order.
So I’m not really surprised to find out that Berlyn loves T.V. too. The girl L.O.V.E.S the television. She has insisted on watching this show called Yo Gabba Gabba, and when she does her eyes glaze over, her head tilts to one side, and there is a distinct amount of drool that puddles in her lap. I started to worry about the effects this show has on my daughter, so I began to sit down and actually watch the show with her, because usually I flick it on and BOOM! Instant babysitter! Time for a shower. Am I right mommies? No? Shoot. No, what I meant to say is I adore my child, and would never claim that I use the television to entertain her when I’m all out of entertainment and I just need to lay down and pretend I’m drinking a dirty martini, but really its a tall frosty glass of milk with exactly 4 ice cubes, and I’ll have the most intense gas after I finish it, but damn it’s worth it.
That’s actually what I really meant to say, but the point is I started watching it too…and something strange happened. I got sucked in.
Hot Dog! That show is mesmerizing. They have these loopy 80s graphics, that I can identify with, because I am a child of the 80s. And they sing really repetitive songs that talk about liking bugs, and how much fun it is to brush your teeth, and most importantly, there’s this tall skinny guy called DJ Lance Rock who wears an orange unitard, and he’s my favorite. And if he wasn’t so flamboyantly gay, I’d probably have a mammoth-sized crush on him.
But then there are these weird things that he plays with, and I swear one looks like it belongs in an adult (ahem) store…
He’s a one eyed pleasure toy, that has been infected with genital warts. Stay back Berlyn!
So in conclusion, we enjoyed the fun of Yo Gabba Gabba, but I think we’ll go back to watching Sesame Street, because I’m positive they don’t have any vibrator toys on their show.
Yeah I instituted a ban on Yo Gabba Gabba at one time as well. But it wasn’t because of the character looking like a dildo, it was because of DJ Lance looking like a dildo. Seriously. Dude freaks me out.
But now, we don’t even watch TV. Because we are simple people living a simple life in simple Arkansas. Actually the economy sucks and I said the TV had to go before my internetz.
Okay, that show is totally scary and it’s disturbing how mesmerizing my 3-year-old finds it. I agree with everything you say – but you have to admit how infectiously fun it is to shout randomly throughout the day: Yoooooooooooooooo, gabba gabba!!
There will be no ban of Yo Gabba Gabba in this house. I need it in my life. I need Foo Fa to tell me “Don’t be scared, don’t be afraid, everyone is different” (her words, not mine). And who is gonna let me know if “There’s a party in my tummy, so yummy, so yummy”? You bet ya, the Little Green One. So you see, this is not only a learning show for Jax, I too have learned some very valuable lessons. For that, I will personally be forever grateful to DJ Lance and all of his very smart little friends.
On a side note, watching a skinny little man dancing around in an orange jump is extremely disturbing on quite a few levels. I can only hope that Jax will find some “Cool, Cool, Cool, Tricks” that he enjoys.
I can’t sit and watch Yo Gabba Gabba with Gaby any more because she could swear it’s called Yo Gaby Gaby. Oiy! Not only that, but I have always been of the opinion that the orange Gumby-looking thing you posted a picture of up, looks too much like a cross between Gumby and a D!ldo. I just can’t watch it. I’m at the point where I’d rather watch the Doodlebops than Yo Gabba Gabba…or was that Yo Gaby Gaby?
There’s a party in my tummy, so yummy, so yummy!
I almost fell out of my chair when I read “He’s a one eyed pleasure toy, that has been infected with genital warts.”
Now that is what I am going to think every time th show come on.
My two love that show and a few others and it’s the only way I get a shower or can actually get food on the table.
I have really good intentions.
I have stack of laundry that sits on the couch in my room that has been washed, and I have good intentions of folding it and putting the clothes away. Instead I sit on it and pretend it isn’t really there while I read a magazine and hum the tune to Bonanza.
I have good intentions of going to the gym, but So You Think You Can Dance is always on, or the Bachelorette. And yup, I watch that crap. Whatever.
I have good intentions of showering on a daily basis, but a nap trumps smelling good any day.
And I have good intentions of chronicling Berlyn’s life in a scrapbook, but there’s such a giant mess involved. And those little sticker square things are a pain in my ass.
But wait! I My cousin, Lisa is willing to do the dirty work which means I (or you) don’t have to. I just gave her a heap of labeled photos and had her go at it. In less than a week, viola! A beautiful book of my family photos was in my hands! And I didn’t have to get up from the couch, or turn off the Bachelorette! Pretty rad, huh?
If you’re feeling uber lazy, or as I like to call it “overwhelmed” click on over to Lisa’s website, and let her glue your photos for you!
My good intentions often leave me being a lazy ass on the couch, so I feel you there. Ok, confession. I tried scrapbooking. I wanted to like it, I really did. It was so infuriating. All the little sticky things, all the pressure to make the pages look the like package, I freaked out. I spend like $7000 on scrapbooking materials, and as it turns out, I can’t even look at it without having a complete mental breakdown. I could’ve just paid your cousin to do it and I’d probably have more money and less papercuts.
Ha. “Overwhelmed.” That word lets me get away with so much. Oh, and I only watch The Bachelorette for the wardrobe/accessories ideas I get from Jillian. Man, she can dress. My regular and dedicated viewing of that show has nothing at all to do with Kiptyn (or Ed, or Reid or…)
Will Lisa go through every picture and memento and get all emotional and stare in a trance thinking of happy memories and wishing my kids could be frozen at a particular age? If so, she’s hired!
I tried to be vegetarian once. It was college, and I was already starving myself with a diet that mainly went like this: coffee, coffee, piece of bread, coffee, Coco Pebbles, alcohol and some more Coco Pebbles.
I kept in my dorm mini fridge/pantry stocked with Easy Mac, Pringles, anything chocolate, and cereal, so I was practically living a meatless lifestyle already.
But then one day I decided to go all vegetarian on my ass. Just like that. It was as if I forgot how yummylishious a hamburger or rack of lamb tasted, because I couldn’t really afford anything other than the food that Target sold.
And I wasn’t going to be one of those lazy vegetarians, you know the ones they say crap like, I’m a vegetarian, but I still eat chicken, and fish.
So…then you’re not a vegetarian, you just don’t eat certain types of meat. What you should be saying is, I’m a picky eater, who likes to exaggerate and be obnoxious just for the sake of sounding interesting. And now please excuse me while I prick myself in the neck several times with this fork for being so obnixious.
No, I wasn’t going to be like that. I was going to go all out. No meat. No bacon, no ribs, no hamburgers, no filet mignon. Nothing but tofu cubes and lentils for me.
I felt like I was making a difference in the world. I felt like I had more energy, and I thought of all the sweet baby piggies, chickens, and cows I was saving by not eating them.
When my friends were all giggling and eating drippy red meat, I was fine. I didn’t try to sneak bites of their crunchy taco from Del Taco when they weren’t looking, I didn’t draw pictures of a fried chicken in a bucket in the margins of my notes in my Shakespeare class. I kept it together.
Then one day it wasn’t great anymore, it was a pain in my ass. It’s complicated to be a vegetarian. And I started to miss bacon, and I gave it up. I mean, really, a life without bacon really isn’t a life worth living.
I went through a period in my life when I was an accidental vegetarian: I didn’t eat chicken because one time I went to view some autopsies and discovered that even skinny humans have a thick yellow layer of fat on their abdomens, and this fat layer looked EXACTLY like the fat on chickens in the meat section (before grocery stores started removing it). Beef and pork were too expensive; fish was too complicated. But then one day I started making more money and wanting to eat something other than broccoli and VOILA! My affair without meat ended.
Mmmmmm. Bacon.
I was a vegetarian for awhile. I was all about making a social statement. I even went so far as to be a full out vegan (no milk, eggs, cheese, etc). The problem is, I’m a really picky eater, I don’t like beans at all and I really don’t like vegetables. Then it occured to me, I really, really loved steak. Screw saving cows and all that crap. I wanted steak. So I ate one: a big rare, bloody steak. Turns out, that makes you a pretty bad vegetarian.
Sounds like a perfectly rational progression to me. And you’re correct…”life without bacon really isn’t a life worth living”.
Agreed. I lived on the afore-referenced diet in college as well. Except substitute “coffee” with “diet coke” and add cheese. Because, as we all know, cheese is the MVP of foods.
My old roomies decided to be vegan. Of course, this is after years of them saying they wouldn’t eat beef, didn’t like seafood and kinda only liked chicken as long as it wasn’t on the bone (wha??). So instead of just being vegetarians, they went vegan, but they allow themselves to have cream or cheese, etc, if they’re out at a restaurant or if someone else is cooking, which could be seen as thoughtful since they’re trying to be flexible for someone else, BUT, I kinda see it as wishy-washy veganism and it makes me roll my eyes at them.
Bacon is probably the main reason I’d never be a vegetarian.
I was a vegetarian for many years. man, i was skinny. then i got pregnant with my first kid and started craving chili cheese dogs. i’d go back but then i’d have to live without bacon and that is not an option. so, i’ll settle with being fat.
Yesterday, I woke up extra early, threw off the covers, and sprinted out of bed because we were going to SEA WORLD!!!
It’s among my favorite places to go, and when I was a little girl, I used to dream of being the trainer that gets pushed around the water by Shamu, and then I’d do a back flip off her face, and then wave to the audience while I discreetly blew a giant seawater-snot-rocket out of my nose. The notion is all very quixotic, and if I was any good at swimming, or sticking to one thing, I might have actually had a chance.
To cheer myself up from my shattered dreams of being a whale trainer, I decided to look at walruses. And holy shit! A walrus might just be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. No lie.
And then we saw polar bears.
And then we met up with our friends for some more sea adventures.
And lastly we saw the manatees. This Mr. Manatee kept doing slow motion swirls in the water. He looked so peaceful and majestic, even with the bit of poo hanging out of his buns.
in 1989, my 2nd grade class sponsored a manatee. true story.
I SOOOOO relate to your shattered sea world dreams…I too wanted to be a Marine Biologist, so I could become a Shamu Show-girl. Then I figured out that I sucked at Biology, math and I don’t look good in a wet-suit…so sad. I have been begging Ty for years to take me to Sea World…your pictures have put me over the edge…I MUST GO SOON! The pic of Berlyn in the aqua glow of the aquarium is one of my all time faves of her!!!
Love you guys!
I wanted to be a Shamu girl too.
I have a Shamu tattoo instead. HE rides ME
I wanted to be a dolphin trainer, like, SO bad. We would have made for great back to back acts. Let’s have a drink for what could have been.
Also, that picture of Berlyn at the tank is so cute I might pass out.
“Quixotic”!?! Wow, I’m impressed. Had to look that one up. Had you used “quixotic” in a Balderdash definition I would surely have selected it. You are so damn smart.
When my mom stays over to watch Berlyn she sticks stuff in my refrigerator. Usually she brings a produce bag stuffed with a strawberry Yoplait yogurt, raw almonds, a box of Wheat Thins, and a bottle of water. Because apparently I don’t have any food in my kitchen. I think she thinks I hate food. I have nothing in my pantry or fridge, and I solely live off coffee and my good looks.
Not only does she bring her own food, but she buys food and sticks the weird leftovers all over my kitchen. I come home and there’s the crust of her sandwich sitting on my counter and quarter cup of milk, 2 baby carrots and a half eaten apple just sitting in the middle of the refrigerator shelf. Gross.
She says it’s for Berlyn. But Berlyn doesn’t want to eat my mom’s half eaten apple. She does have some standards.
The last time she stayed over was about 3 weeks ago. And this morning I was rummaging through my fridge to find a wedge of cheese to chew on. And shoved waaay back into the far reaches of my fridge was a crumpled up paper towel. Ordinarily, I don’t refrigerate my paper towels, and I defiantly don’t ever clean my refrigerator, so I knew as soon as I saw it, it was the work of my mother.
I pulled the paper towel out with the tips of my fingernails, and carefully inspected it. I peered inside without breathing in, and found that It was the yolk of a hard boiled egg.
Who keeps the yolk of a hard boiled egg? Did she save it for me? Why did she hide it in the back of my fridge? Was she trying to sabotage me with the stench of a rotten egg? I think my mom secretly hates me. Oh, so many questions I have to get answered.
I immediately called her up and interrogated her about the egg.
She said that it was weird.
She said she didn’t remember.
She said that maybe it wasn’t her.
No, I don’t believe her. I know it was her.
And when I see her today, I’m going to give it back to her. Because it is hers after all.
Love this blog! So funny Beckey…. xoxo
eeeeew on the egg.
I had a roomie that used to pull crap like that. I just started throwing the stuff out when I saw it, because she never went back for the last two bites of her sandwich or the half-drunk glass of milk. I hate that. Eat it, dump it or at least have a decent serving left to save and then actually go back and finish it for your next meal.
Better yet, next time you are at her house, place the towel-wrapped egg in a cupboard. Sit back, relax, and enjoy.
i have to admit i have boiled eggs from Easter in my fridge only because one of them says “thalon.” downer much? probably…
as for “spontaneous” food left for the masses, my mom’s the best at leaving it only because it’s truly crap food like chips and cookies. shit i try to not give my kids.
Currently I want to write about nothing. I’m boring, and my ass is huge.
I want to sleep all day, and then eat a sandwich from Togo’s.
I’d like to sit outside for 26 minutes, and read a trashy tabloid tucked inside a copy of The New Yorker, so people think I’m really literary, and then lay indoors the rest of the day and pretend I don’t feel well, because there’s really no reason a perfectly healthy person should lay in a cocoon of down pillows and 800 thread count sheets all day.
No, unless if you’ve just had rhinoplasty and a chemical peel and you look like pure evil.
I’ve had neither of these–I’m just growing a fetus, the size of an avocado…Mmmm avacado.
And that makes me sleepy.
And hungry.
Aaaaaand, voila! Blog post!
I wish it were that easy for me.
(Don’t think I didn’t catch the fact that the title of this post is from a Jason Mraz song. He’s mine, beyotch! Handzoff!)
You say lay around all day like it’s a bad thing. Throw in some trashy day-time tv and it sounds like the perfect day to me. You inspire me. Perhaps I’ll call in sick to work tomorrow, spend the whole day in bed being a sloth…no can’t. Damnit. Kids. Summer vacation. Sigh.
You can write about the cool thing you got in the mail last week… 
~
Ummmmm, heeeelllloooo! You are preggers! You can lay around all day (and all of the next days to follow) and not feel guilty at all. Rock the 800 thread count sheets!
It’s disgusting. It’s like they’re saying, “Hey you over there. yeah you, the uptight one, want to hear something cool? This is what my boogers and throat-goo sounds like when I try to scrape them out of my esophagus with the sheer force of my breath! GRRRHHRUGHTUTUCHH!!”
Only it’s not cool. It makes my innards quiver. It’s like when you stick a butter knife in between the prongs of a fork and slide it back and forth a few times.
It’s those damn smokers that are the worst. They’re all yellow, and leathery, and half falling apart. And if the annoyance of their smoke AND the cigarette butts they leave everywhere wasn’t enough of a disturbance, they cough in front of you while you’re in line at the gynecologist. Not quietly either, It’s all GUYGKFFFIEGIEH%#((@)#GFFFKKHYTTYHHIHGCHCH!!
Then there’s a pause and you think you can go back to watching Emeril (yeah, they play episodes of Emeril at my gyno, because nothing says vagina like braised pork loin with a side of garlic mashed potatoes, am I right, ladies?), and then the bitch starts at it again, but this time she adds a meek and raspy, “sorry” at the end. And the hairs on the back of your neck are standing up and you’re clutching your purse so tight that you’re tearing small holes in the leather with your fingernails, and she says sorry?
And then you stab her. Because seriously, someone needed to put her out of her misery. And then everyone in the gyno office gives you a standing ovation, and Emeril comes out and gives you a lasagna with words written in mozzarella that say, “thanks for stabbing the coughing lady.”
And you’re all, “oh, that? That was nothing.” And you shake his hand, and the nursing staff hoists you on their shoulders, and they all sing ‘We wish you a merry Christmas’, because everyone really likes that song, even in July.
ugh! nothing is worse than when you have a snot-sucker in your office and while you can’t see her – you can definitely hear her and ALL the snot being forcefully sucked from the back of her throat only probably to be swallowed again and then she starts choking on it. that’s precisely the moment that i grab my iPhone and put in my headphones and turn up rage against the machine or something obnoxiously loud so i don’t have to hear the snot-sucker! and the best part is when she says “sorry… allergies!” i’m sorry, but don’t they have claritin or something to fix that?! GROSS!!!
i wish my gyno had emeril!
There’s a lady in my office that has a coughing fit 2 or 3 times a day. EVERY DAMN DAY. She’ll cough so hard she almost vomits and then she says “Ugh this cough!”. I want to scream at her “Go to the damn doctor already!”
Gross
Welcome back.
I had weird, vivid dreams like that when I was pregnant, too.
the sound of coughing scrambles my aura.
and rachel ray plays at my obgyn
I’m a smoker.
and my coughs sound more like…
ECHHTPPPPPPPFTTTTTTT.KAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.
And not only do I do it at my vagina doctor’s office,
but I do it at the DMV too.
(all over the pens they make you use to fill out paperwork)
Hah.
I feel like there’s at least a reason for when people have coughing attacks like this, what I DON’T understand and find equally, if not more so, disgusting, is the guy down the hall that hocks up a lugie at least a few times a day in my presence (who knows how many more times it’s done outside of my presence). He doesn’t spit (is that an upside??), he just keeps bringing it back up over and over. It’s like a nervous tick, like the type of person that needs to clear their throat before they speak, he hocks up a lugie. I can’t possibly replicate the noise in words, just take my word for it that it’s DISGUSTING AS HELL AND IT MAKES ME WANT TO BARF.
Aren’t you glad you brought up this topic now?
“… so then I stabbed the guy”
I’m sorry, I can’t leave a coherent comment because I’m laughing too damned hard.
The only thing worse than coughing is hearing someone chew their food. It makes me all stabby!
CONGRATULATIONS!! I’m oh so happy for you guys, Beck!
by andrea on July 29, 2009
Wow. That was incredible. We both got chills. Congrats to both of you…..can’t wait to see you.
by Ryan and Sam on July 29, 2009
Boys are SO fun!!!! Just think of how awesome Ben is and maaaaaaaaaaybe your little guy will be JUST LIKE HIM. One can hope. I’m really excited for you and Pat… and what a super cool way to find out! Now we need to go shopping again.
Congrats guys!
by sarah on July 29, 2009
Congrats! I’m so happy for you guys. Our little Berlyn is going to be a big sister!
Love,
Aunt SuSu
by Sue on July 30, 2009
So awesome!!! Such a fun way to find out! Congratulations to you and Pat!
by Dena Lucas on July 30, 2009
That’s awesome! And what a cool video! Congratulations
by Merritt on July 30, 2009
Thanks for sharing this! Are you going to post a video of delivery, too? I was thinking about you yesterday… wondering how you were doing. Pass along a hello and congratulations to Patrick and Berlyn!
by Maurine Fischel on July 30, 2009
Oh my gosh! I have the chills! Congrats! Having one of each is so fantastic!
by sara on July 30, 2009
What a fun video and a great way to found out if boy or girl.
by littlemsblogger on July 30, 2009
That was amazing!! It made me cry. I am so happy for you, Pat, and Berlyn. CONGRATULATIONS!!
by Jennifer on July 30, 2009
A boy?! I couldn’t watch the vid on my phone (I’m at jury duty, booo), but was so delighted to read the comments and learn that way. So happy for you guys!
by Natalie Johnson on July 30, 2009
Nicely done Pat, that video was way cool. Congratulations Brumfields!!
by Eric on July 30, 2009
Yaaaaaaay! I love boys! I love girls! I love when other people have babies!
So, you know all that stuff you learned about parenting from Berlyn? Toss it. This will be something altogether different.
by dgm on July 30, 2009
Man, I don’t even KNOW you and I’m totally weepy at my desk right now. Congrats!
by Bellacantare on July 30, 2009
All day my ovaries have been doing the Macarena. So excited for you.
Also, I just noticed there’s an ad at the bottom of your site that says, “Will you have a boy or girl? Find out!” Nice work, Google.
by amanda on July 30, 2009
Congratulations!
This makes my ovaries ache to be let loose again. Sorry guys, no can do. So I’ll just vicariously enjoy babies through the ‘net! Except, I can’t sniff their darling little heads. Oh well.
Again, Congratulations!!!!!
by Audrey at Barking Mad on July 30, 2009
BTW, the vid wouldn’t play when I first read this post, but I figured it out from the other comments (because I’m clever like that). Now that I see the vid, it confirms that I am completely lame at reading ultrasounds. I can’t tell what is what. Well, except that it does appear your little man has talons and a tail. Good luck with that!
by dgm on August 1, 2009
Yeah!!! Wesley was hoping for a boy friend to play with! So excited for you guys!
by Kristin Sellars on August 2, 2009
How exciting!! Congrats.
by Jeni on August 3, 2009
Hahah omg that’s such an awesome idea. CONGRATS!
by Bridget on August 4, 2009
How exciting
!! SO happy for you.
by kristy - wheres my damn answer on August 4, 2009
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