New book.

I love to read, but I do not get to do it enough. Except when I'm pregnant. Reading is the only thing that helps keep my mind off the fact that I am so sick. Sometimes I read old favorites. Sometimes I read suspense novels I can finish in one day. But this week I scoured Amazon reviews for a literary novel that, a) I had never heard of before, b) would be set in a time period I know nothing about, and c) be clean. I wrote a couple down, went to the library, and emerged with this one:


It takes place near the end of the Civil War, in an area that I know well--The Ozarks (for the unaware, that is where I lived for the first fifteen years of my life). I had no idea just how complicated and tragic the war experience was for that part of an already divided state.

My favorite books are always character-driven. Plots matter, certainly--and this book has an exciting one--but rich character development is what really endeared this book to me. The separate journeys of the two main characters, an 18-year-old young woman and a 31-year-old soldier , are Homeresque, and to quote Anna Quindlen's review "This...is a page-turner because it provides the greatest suspense a story can offer: will someone we've come to love persevere and prosper?"

Paulette Jiles is a poet. Her writing reflects this. It is beautiful, concrete, and textured.

If you're interested, read some more reviews. I rate this a very soft PG-13.

Jack experiences mistletoe.

Thankfully, it's Grandma and not some hussy from Nursery.

That's not a stuffed turkey under my shirt.

As soon as I announced our big news(!), anyone who knew me during my first pregnancy probably internally predicted that this blog would fall by the wayside until....oh, March-ish. Well, you are correct. The excuses are as expected--the only thoughts forming in my mind for the past seven weeks have been accompanied by moaning, groaning, and an overall theme of pain and suffering.

I'm trying to have a better attitude. Really.

Last week I was in Utah (See? I have other excuses). Between two twelve hour drives, an all-day wedding extravaganza, lunch at Cafe Rio, Mom's pot roast, my Mother-in-law's beef stew, and prepping for Thanksgiving, I consumed quite a bit. On Thanksgiving morning, before the real feasting began, I stepped on the scale. The needle had gone up five pounds in four days. Knowing that gaining five pounds of fat in four days is nearly physically impossible, I looked in the mirror. And there it was. A belly. The size of which I wasn't expecting for eight more weeks.

Ladies and gentlemen, my body at 11.5 weeks. Something is in there. And it's growin' somethin' fierce.

I have a post forming in my mind. Answers to all your frequently asked questions. Okay, so most haven't asked any questions--let alone frequently. I flatter myself, I guess.

We're giving thanks a few weeks in advance.

Over the course of three years (minus one month):

Five doctors have been seen,

many theories have been put forward,

literally thousands of prayers have been said,

fasts have been observed by many, many loved ones all over the country.

And a beloved grandfather who recently passed away has obviously pulled some strings.

We are thrilled to say that we've seen a miracle unfold in the Bailey family.

Meet our little macaroni. Due to arrive June 15th, 2010.