We went tree hunting the other day. Our grass is being put into sometime this month, so Paul is anxious to plant a tree to go with it in the front yard.
Did you know that trees are expensive? Or that the city has all these bylaws about what kind of tree you can plant in your front yard? Yeah, they are and they do.
Suffice to say, we became overwhelmed and dropped the tree issue for now. Instead we picked up some flowers for our flower pots on the front porch. I actually picked the yellow flowers to unite both planter boxes except that Paul planted a dud in my box (left) so now my box looks sickly in comparison to his.
You mock me and say, "Marya, it isn't a competition." But here's the thing, it is because Paul makes it so. Even though I'm the one who waters and plucks away the dead bulbs, he's fully away of the status of his planter box and judges it accordingly. Bastard! I'm just saying.
I'm totally going to have to go out on Thursday, after pay day, and buy a new plant just so he doesn't win. Yes, I'm that spiteful after listening to that many little comments...
At least I'm not so mean as to purposely ignore his planter box and let it suffer.
In other news, it's been really hot lately:
I think I've seen the cat in more contorted, heat exhausted positions in the past week than I have in a long time. From just laying about on the floor, looking despondent, to letting it all hang loose like in the picture above, she's been a really piece of work lately. Don't even get me started on her mewling for water and outside. It's enough to drive a pregnant lady batty. I'm only moderately terrified about what the combination of a crying baby and mewling cat together will bring about in me!
We've added a rug to the baby's room:
We've finished the back wall. We came across a really cute and soft pig stuffed animal, which we've added to the shelf collection along with a copy of Munsch's I'll Love You Forever story. People tell you to read to baby as part of a bonding ritual. Yeah, I tried to read the Munsch story only to start crying every other page. I don't know what kind of bonding ritual this book will create. I might need to rethink the selected book, you know? The story just kills me every time.
And only once in my life am I ever going to dare show my belly on the web, just so I can share how the baby is moving (now that I finally caught it on video):
And that's about it for now...
You know, now that I've bared my belly on the interwebs... for shame!