It's [his] birthday...

Hey, guess what? My husband is a quarter of a century old today. Geesh. Old man. We celebrated with a nice relaxing day filled with making good use of one of his birthday presents. 

Ah. The Big Bang Theory. Best. Show. Ever. But, okay, I lied. We didn't spend the whole day on our comfy couch laughing at the ridiculous antics of Sheldon. Believe me, we tried. But our new little roommate didn't allow it. Halfway through one of the episodes, a little tiny fury MOUSE ran across our TV room floor. Eek. 

You can guess the rest. Shriek from me. Anger from Jake. Big Bang powered off. Quick trip to Walmart for a few [okay, twelve] traps. Mad rush to set traps. Jake set traps while I stood on kitchen counter. Jake convinced me to return downstairs. Big Bang powered on. And....SNAP. Fury little friend caught in record time. Jake emptied trap AFTER having to put the little guy out of his misery with...a hammer. Happy Birthday Jake. 

See, this is why I love Jake. He hates mice. Maybe even more than me. But goodness, that guy sure knows how to take care of me. And I love him more than words could say because of it. Want to know a few more reasons why I love him? You know, like 25 reasons? Yep, I am going there.

one. He washes the big pots and pans that do not fit in the dishwasher // two. He stops what he is doing to hang pictures on the wall for me // three. He calls me every night before he comes home from work to see if I need anything // four. He snuggles me when I am sick // five. He agreed to paint my toenails because I have a big ol' basketball in the way that makes it quite uncomfortable to bend over // six. He doesn't mind that I have to have the humidifier on at night to sleep even though he hates it // seven. He doesn't get mad when I crawl out of bed four times a night to pee // eight. He always drives when we go on road trips so I can sleep // nine. He loves candy just as much as I do // ten. He [hesitantly] lets me share his drinks [as long as it isn't milk] // eleven. He doesn't yell too bad when I fold his laundry different than he likes it [have you met my O.C.D husband?] // twelve. He randomly brings me home lunch just because // thirteen. He doesn't laugh when I ask him silly math problems [like 7 times 3...yep, it happens] // fourteen. He rearranges furniture for me even when I make him change it a week later // fifteen. He gives me back rubs after only a little begging // sixteen. He is the most patient guy ever // seventeen. He puts up with me badgering him about school // eighteen.  He doesn't get angry when I don't make him dinner // nineteen. He watches chick flicks with me and doesn't complain too much // twenty. He still tells me he thinks I am pretty even though I am a swollen, cranky pregnant woman // twenty-one. He lets me choose where we eat out // twenty-two. He lets me sit in the comfiest spot on the couch // twenty-three. He drags the garbage out early Friday morning so I don't have to // twenty-four. He lets me control the radio in the car [usually meaning no radio on at all] // twenty-five. AND FINALLY...he loves me even when I make up really long, really cheesy reasons why I love him.

***

In other news, little baby Maycie is finally growing. We are crossing our fingers that she is catching up to where she is suppose to be. At our first ultrasound, Maycie was measuring two and a half weeks behind where she should have been. But all of the sudden my belly popped out in epic proportions. I will prove it. 

Can I just tell you how awkward it is taking a belly picture in the mirror with your cell phone? Awkward, I tell you. Do you smile? Do you wave? Thumbs up? Do I look in the mirror? Look down? Gosh...who knows. Thus, the awkwardness. 

Tomorrow we have our second appointment with our specialist, Dr. Draper, first thing in the morning. Really, first thing. 7am sharp. Yuck. But we are anxiously awaiting a fifth view of our sweet baby girl.

And not to mention I have another long list of questions just waiting to be answered. Last week we learned that Jake and I both have a normal set of chromosomes. This means little Maycie definitely has some sort of abnormality in her DNA. What that abnormality might be is still up in the air. Our regular doctor, Dr. Cox, suggested waiting until Maycie is born to do any further genetic testing to see what her abnormality might be. We are anxious to hear if Dr. Draper agrees with this. Unfortunately, this would mean we would head into the delivery room with a lot more unknowns than we want.  

It's not so fun going day to day without answers. But we are dealing. We hope to have a few answers given to us tomorrow. Cross your fingers for us.