The Night We Were Almost Killed

Last week the Hubs and I were quietly winding down for bed around 10:30pm as per our usual routine. We're still in the phase of marriage where we go to bed at the same time as one another so we can spend some quiet time with Piggy and really chat about the day without distraction. It's truly one of my favorite times of day with the exception of any time I get to eat anything throughout the day over the last 5 months.

There we were on a typical Thursday night enjoying our new tradition of reading Small Frei's weekly progress update compliments of babycenter.com. We love learning about his newest development, what size produce he is that Thursday and so on. PS...Last Thursday, whilst almost killed, he was a bell pepper;)

As I'm holding my phone to read aloud about said bell pepper (aka, the cutest bell pepper that ever lived), my phone started ringing in my hand. This immediately struck me as odd for a few reasons: 1)hardly anyone calls me as my friends and family know my cell doesn't get service in our house (side note, it does now thanks to divorcing Sprint two weeks ago) 2) It was almost 11pm and No ONE calls me that late...ever 3) whoever was calling had purposely blocked their name and number. Crrrrreeeeeeppppyyyyy.

I froze for a slight second to process the fact that my phone was actually ringing and that it said "blocked ID" on the screen. The Hubs had to enlighten me on how to actually do this on a cell phone. I thought that shady tactic only worked on landlines, who knew?! At this point, my thoughts raced to a few people who might want to call me that late and not allow me see that it was actually them. I can tell you, that's not a settling feeling as you lay in bed and try to wind down from the day. Especially when the next thing you hear is "knock, knock, knock." Oh, heck no!

The Hubs thought the knock came from the window next to my side of the bed so I immediately told him to hit the lights. Whoever was out there need not be able to see us through a curtain as we panic. For minutes after the knocks, we both sat their in utter silence and stillness. The Hubs wanted to go check for a car in our driveway, but I wouldn't let him. He was not going to leave my side. Not yet, at least.

After what felt like an hour, but was probably more like 8 minutes, I gave him the go ahead to explore. Nothing. No car, no person...cccrrrreeeeeepppppyyyyyyy.

To this day, we have no clue who called or who knocked. It was clearly a knock, of that I'm sure. And the chain of events with the blocked call first followed by a knock only minutes later at 11pm was the closest I've felt to being in a horror film. I hope to never feel that again. My heart can't take it.

Were we really almost killed, no, that's a bit of an April Fool's, BUT were we scared with hearts racing and attack/exit plans racing through my head, you better believe it. Needless to say, I did not get much sleep that night and when I did, I dreamt of being held hostage in my home. Crrreeepppyyyy I tell you, but definitely reason enough for this Illinois girl to go get her FOID card. And you can take that to the bank.

Keepin It Classy

There's a first for everything. This past Friday night brought about a first of two different natures.

Let me start with the positive. Bryan Adam's rocks my face off. Hands down, he is one talented man. The years of touring he's gathered under his belt have not impacted his vocal chords one bit. He sounded just as amazing in person as he does on his CDs, which is the mark of true talent. I've been to a few concerts before where you left totally disappointed in an artist's voice when it's untouched and real. And although I won't name any names, a-hem...Randy Travis, I just left feeling mislead. Not the case with my friend, BA. He is beyond talented, funny, and genuine in a "I'm going to say exactly what I think and you can do with it what you will" sort of way. I left the theater feeling like we all got a glimpse into his true personality outside of what he promised in a concert performance.

Now onto the not so positive side of "first" time experiences. Let me start off by saying that the concert theater was THE hottest venue. And not like hot as in cool or trendy, but straight up like 100 degrees inside. Praise the Lord I had dressed in layers or this preggo would've died a hot, sweaty death while being serenaded by 1990's ballads. Not the worst way to go, but still... Turn down the dang heat, would ya?

Okay, I digress. A bit of foreshadowing for you...before the concert we had the perfect seats to people watch as the crowds rolled in. With one group of 30-40 year old dudes entering the room, I pointed out to the Hubs, my brother and my mom that "those guys are carrying 4 beers each". I'm not sure if they've never heard of making a second trip to the bar or if they were afraid the beer would sell out, but they all proudly walked in with their 4 beverages each. Big mistake. Big. Huge.

Once the concert began, it was clear this crowd was here to party with BA. I've never heard a more lively crowd before. People were constantly screaming out song requests and professing their love for BA the entire time. Because the venue is a bit more intimate in nature than a coliseum, voices travel pretty easily. Halfway through the second song, it was apparent that a few folks were having a serious conversation and we were all just along for their ride. To give you some perspective, we were seated in the balcony seats, they were seated in the floor section, and we could STILL hear them over the song.

Just like that, at the end of his song, BA stopped what he was doing and asked who had decided to talk through the song. About 20 people frantically pointed the group of dudes who had the 4 beers each. Busted. I saw that one coming a mile away. BA then kindly asked them to "shut the F up". Boom. I guess you can do that when you the one on stage with the microphone and big bouncers between you and rowdy mob of loud talkers. Fast forward two more songs and the same homeboys clearly were not going to stop talking. BA stopped his show for the second time. He asked the lighting guys to shine the spotlights on those fools so he could see who they were, told them the rest of us "didn't pay good money to listen to them talk" along with some other choice words. Amen! He then had them kicked out. Needless to say, the theater erupted in applause and support. We were later told by an usher that 20 people had been kicked out by the police for disturbing the peace, etc...

People, cannot we not keep it classy? Why on earth should an artist be forced to stop his own show and ask you to please stop talking? Why? Why is that not a respect that is ingrained in you as 35+ year old? A 4 year old, maybe, but a grown man? It's just sad and there were a few thousand people who were embarrassed for you and for our city. I doubt he'll come back. I wouldn't! You paid good money to insult him and to let the rest of us know that you're way more important than us. Good work. I'm hoping you had some time in handcuffs to process the importance of your conversation that just couldn't wait. For your sake, I'm glad you opted to not launch a conversation during Summer of 69. I'm certain you would've had your tail whopped by a few hundred people surrounding you. That's one BA song that you just don't mess with or else...

And in the future, I highly recommend purchasing one beer at time, followed by a nice, refreshing bottle of water. We saw where 4 beers got you and it wasn't pretty. When Bryan Adams asks you to "shut up", you do it. It's that simple. Thanks for keepin it classy.

Friday High Fives

I wish I had more high fives to share, but this has been a long week full of more low fives than high. BUT, I shall not dwell on the lows with this post, so here are some smile makers for you:

• Sweet friends who sent texts of encouragement or to simply to check in on the river house progress. Seeing your names pop up and knowing you thought about us made this long and stressful process a bit more bearable. Thank you!
• Donut holes.

• Booking three new weddings this week.
• A thunderstorm last night. It's a small, yet tangible sign that spring still exists.
• Seeing my two favorite geese, Pearl and Merle, making their way back to our yard today for nesting season. I felt like two of my long, lost friends had come home.
• Knowing I'll get to see this man rock out tonight! "I got my first real six-string, Bought it at the five-and-dime. Played it 'til my fingers bled. It was the summer of '69."

• Feeling what I'm guessing to be the tiniest little kick from Small Frei. I'm not sure if it was, in fact, a kick, but it's happened twice now and was sudden, short and unlike the other flutters I've felt. Hey, I'll take it.
• The opportunity to match a donor up with a campus project that made them giddy with excitement. What started off as a "you may like to know" conversation, ended in a "I want to help fund that" conversation. Uncovering gifts is always a great feeling, but seeing a donor float out of the room from truly connecting with a project is incredible.

Well, folks, that's about all I have in terms of highs. This week has been a challenging one.

On the flip side, I'd love to ask for your prayers for my grandfather who was admitted to the hospital and awaiting a possible surgery. His name is Stan and I'm sure he'd love your prayers if you're willing to send a few his way. Thank you, sincerely, in advance!

Happy Friday, Y'all!

Run Your Race

Sometimes you just have to put down the pen and let someone else do the writing. Someone much smarter, more eloquent, and with better hair. Today, for me, I'm turning it over to Jen Hatmaker. If you don't know her name, I'll just go ahead say "you're welcome" now.

Jen is by far one of my favorite, if not the favorite, Christian speakers, authors, moms, etc... She stands for everything you know to be true, but does it in such a real and transparent (and often times sarcastic) way, that you can't help but get it. She makes me belly laugh until I snort and she can bring you to tears in the next breath. She's fantastic and her words and delivery have got to be straight from the Lord. They just have to be.

On her blog Monday, she wrote a post entitled "Run Your Race" and I knew I wanted to share it with you all. It's challenging, yet inspiring, and has certainly made me think.

What is the race that YOU were MADE to run? What is something that you are so very good at without needing to think about or try too hard? What can you do that would make the rest of us sit back and smile? Off the top of my head, I can think of some special people in my life who you can just tell were made for certain things. And for those that I can't quite pinpoint, I'm guessing they know deep down inside and have not yet shared it with the rest of us. Don't wait, let it flow!

My call out to each of us, thanks to Jen's prompting, is to figure it out now. Not tomorrow. Figure out our very own race and let's run it. Unapologetically and without fear. And when people say "man, you're really great at _______", we can say "I know, isn't it crazy?! The Lord has blessed me with such a cool gift. Thanks for noticing!" versus our usual "oh this, it's nothing really."

And in Jen's much more eloquent words "Let the rest of us grin at you while you run your race. Let us be proud. Let us be inspired and grateful that God made you to do this thing and you are doing it LIKE A BOSS. The timing is never right. Forget that. It won't just fall into your lap. That’s fake."

Take a sec and read her challenge. And then go out there like a boss. I'll be right here warming up my smile and teary eyes for you (and myself).

http://jenhatmaker.com/blog/2014/03/24/run-your-race

The Name Game

Can I just start off by saying all those baby name books that claim to have 1,000 names, should really be called books that have 935 really random, comical, "I'd never ever name my child that" names and roughly 65 real people names? If you do not already own one, save yourself the moola. Thankfully, we were given a book to use from friends of ours. Otherwise, I'd be back at Barnes and Noble requesting something a bit more helpful like "Baby Naming for Dummies" or "Names That Will Not Get Your Son Whooped On The Playground" books. True story.

Although we're working on it daily, I'm convinced we'll be those  parents who are not allowed to leave the hospital without declaring a more concrete moniker than Baby Boy Freiberg.  I've seen that Lifetime movie and it didn't end well.

I can, however, declare there are a few names that we have successfully vetoed for one reason or another. They either gave us a laugh or took us longer than 30 seconds to pronounce correctly.

For your reading pleasure, I give you the following "real" names, according to the 1,000 names disclaimer:

• Pierpont- Tim actually likes this one. Me, I think it just sounds like a bridge in a bad part of town.
• Pepe- This one makes me laugh and I like to randomly work it into baby conversations with the Hubs.
• Nemo- Yep, this was actually in the book. Tim dismissed it immediately as we'd "constantly be trying to find him." He's a funny one, that Hubs of mine.
• Fritztopher- Okay, I totally made this name up one night, but I secretly love it. And I really like Fritz. Tim denied me the joy of Fritztopher, but go ahead and say it out loud. You cannot say that name and not feel happy. Really.
• Remus- Um, I don't even know. Book authors, seriously?
• Layafette
• Achilles
• Festus- This one is way too close to "fetus" for my liking. He'd be destined to be tiny and frail.
• Balfour- I'm pretty sure this is the name of the company who makes high school class rings.
• Philangee- I do believe we studied these in anatomy class. No thanks.

And there you have it friends. People actually get paid to come up with these names AND people actually go out and buy them with the hope that buried amongst the rubbish is the perfect name. I'm apparently in the wrong business. I KNOW I can do better than Philangee. How about you?

Hello, Second Trimester!

Boy am I glad to see you, second trimester! You're a breath of fresh air. With the first 3 months behind me, I feel like I'm finally getting the hang of this thing they call pregnancy. Well, at least until bathing suit season.

Sure, I still have my waves of random nausea and fatigue, but they are a walk in the park compared to the way I felt for the first 90 days or so. I'm definitely feeling more human and am starting to really enjoy this journey (Tim, I bet you questioned whether or not you'd ever hear me say that circa month 2, am I right?!). Plus the slowly growing belly bump makes it feel so much more real. Although I don't feel consistent movement each day, the bump makes me feel connected to the little man. I can reach out and touch him via his "bump cave" and know that he's in there and growing. Pretty amazing feeling!

Courtesy of the first month, I got to experience all day nausea (fyi, I'm pretty sure the doctor who coined the term "morning sickness" was a man or a woman who never carried a child, cuz that junk is ALL day long, especially at night), fatigue like I've never known, odd cramps and aches, and one must not forget a week long, flu-like illness that brought about high fevers, chills, sore throats and coughs with no reprieve since I couldn't take anything to kill it. I was a roaring good time to say the least.

Fast forward to one week shy of 5 months and I feel like I'm back in business. I have started to cook a bit more and can actually clean my house again. Dust bunnies had to take a backseat when my decisions were between having a clean kitchen and dust-free home or trying to stand up for 2 hours with intermittent vomit breaks while cleaning. Bring on the dust bunnies, friends. If you visited my home and my bathroom was sub-par, I seriously make no apologies. It is what it is. I was in survival mode. You don't like it, just don't look at it, okay.

Nesting is also in full swing at our casa. I'm on a mission to de-clutter (praise the Lord for constructive cravings that actually burn fat!). I've purged closets, pantries, laundry areas, etc... Next up, the basement. I'm going to need to reinforcements for that one though. Hubs, consider yourself warned.

And for the more comical side of the second trimester...an increasing appetite and the occasional meltdown. If it's a sweet or savory carb, I want it. If it's a donut, I will fight you to the death for a bite. I try not to buy these delicious circles of heaven, but find myself caving from time to time. I think I've found the secret to craving success though; donut holes. They're much smaller portions and often times one does the trick. Sometimes 4 are required pending the day's stress level. If I've reached a stage 5 donut hole day, look out. What? You people get your wine and your beer; I get donut holes, okay?

 

 

And because I couldn't pass this one up...

 

 

2nd trimester, I could rock you forever!

Or at least for the next 3 months. I better not get too cocky here.

Friday High Fives

Well, well, well, Mr. Friday, we meet again. I don't think there's ever a day that I don't love seeing your face. If only I could see you more often.

On this sunny, warm (hello, high of 57!) day, I must give credit where credit was due this week:

• Thanks to two Pinterest recipes for bringing a bit of freshness to our meal rotation.
• Breakfast meetings and an event that offered me a delicious, hot breakfast three out of my five work days.
• Making an offer on a house we both love. Low fives to what has turned into a 4 day waiting and negotiating game. This process gives new meaning to "hurry up and wait". I'm no geographical whiz, BUT I'm pretty sure that although Arizona is in a different time zone than we are, it is not a 12 hour difference. Let's just say that whatever timeframe this seller gives you on when she'll respond, you can confidentially tack about 12 hours onto her estimate.
• Dropping Sprint like a bad habit. I can now make and receive phone calls in my house, get my voicemails on time (if at all) and send and receive picture texts! I'm big-time, folks. Now if I can just remember that I no longer have to sit at the end of our very long driveway to make calls, I'll be good.
• A sweet, little blue celebration from our small group. It was so fun to walk in and see the table decorated for our little man.

 Sorry these first two photos are sideways. They have a mind of their own and refuse to be turned.

 

• An unexpected package, which I called "Cinderella Day in a Box" from a dear friend, Zee. I really struggled the weekend of Cinderella Day and knowing I wasn't there. I had to take a break from Facebook for a few hours to avoid all of the awesome photos. They made me so happy, yet sad at the same time, so getting this package made me feel like I still got to be a small part of the amazing day. It meant so much!

• Not seeing Juan Pablo on our TV screen on Monday night.
• Partaking in my 2nd Shamrock shake of the season.
• Tackling a few areas of our home for my 40 bags in 40 days challenge. Although it is still nothing to look at, our laundry closet looks SO much more organized. It was mounds of chaos before.

• Seeing grass! Piggy is so excited to explore again and not navigate 3 foot tall banks of snow.
• Having the windows cracked open.
• Exercising my right to vote!

• Receiving a sweet call from my grandma thanking me for the post I wrote about my grandpa. She shared that it took her awhile to read it. I told her it took me awhile to write it. I try to be very honest and open when I write, but I also try to be cognizant of the fact that my stories are often times not just mine to write. I try to tell "our" stories with care, respect and honesty, and if I'm lucky, every once in awhile, it brings something to the reader (i.e. a memory, happiness, joy, or a shared emotion).
• Knowing it's Friday! Holler!

Happy Friday, Y'all!

I Smell a Rat

For the last four days, there have been two giant, inflatable rats greeting the enterance to my job. Cool. Not. I've only had to pass pickters twice in my life, and in both instances I can't help but think "don't you have anything better to do?" *Side note, these are union workers and not employees of the business they are picketing.

I get it if you want to picket on major matters, but when you're out there over menial matters and sitting in your heated car for four days next to two three story rats, I'm guessing you could probably accomplish more if you were actually at work like the rest of us. Newsflash, no one really cares. I'm a bleeding heart, so you know if I don't care, it's probably a lost cause. Zero news crews have shown up. No one else has joined in your crusade. It's just you two lone wolves taking on the world. Who's really winning in this instance?

My favorite part about the ginormous rats is when I asked the Hubs "have you seen the giant rats on campus?" and he replied "yeah actually. Is there a book fair or something?" Priceless. I'm not sure how rats or mice equate to book fair marketing, but I loved the fact that he saw them and had no clue how they tied in or what they stood for. Again, lone wolves, who's really winning here? I'm guessing it'd be our bookstore if anyone else has the same thought process as the Hubs.

Carry on if you must, but I'm guessing your wives have some tasks that you could do at home if you'd like to find something a bit more productive to do.

Waiting

I don't do waiting very well. I'm guessing most of us don't. I also struggle with the unknown and change, to some extent, so right now is not my sweet spot. Yesterday we got word that another couple had made an offer on the house that we really, really like (I love it!). That gave us two immediate options: 1) cry, wail, and say the old "there will be more houses", or 2) we could make an offer too. Like stat.

What do you think we did? If you think I laid down and started crying, you chose the wrong option. We kicked this puppy into HIGH gear. There were texts and calls to our agent, there were numerous calls on the Hub's part to a broker to see if we could get pre-approved asap, and there was what I felt like could be warning signs of contractions due to my increasing heart rate. I kid on the contractions, but I'm fairly certain that much excitement and hustle could be felt by our little man. The hardest part is not knowing what the other family offered and if we're even the ballpark or sitting out in the ballpark parking lot unaware that we're not truly part of the game.

Within a span of a few hours, we were pre-approved and our offer had been sent. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

And now, we wait. I knew we wouldn't hear anything last night so I remained calm. Today, not so much really. Let's just say my phone is practically glued to my side right now. Will there be other houses if we don't get it? Of course (at least that's what people keep telling me). Will we survive if the other family gets to live in our that house? Most definitely. Will I be sad if it isn't part of the plan for us? Sure. How sad, you ask? I'm not sure yet. Maybe call me in a few hours and you might find out first hand. We shall see. Only the Lord knows if we'll raise a family in the "river house". Until the path is revealed, we're waiting, trusting, and taking some major deep breaths.

In the meantime, I'm trying my best do "waiting" a little better. I'm trying to have it appear to be calm and collected, with a touch of grace. I doubt I'm fooling anyone, but I'm trying, dang it.

And until we meet our fate, I leave you with a couple photos of what's got me all in a tizzy. *Keep in mind, the décor and paint choices will change. Those belong to the previous family.

 

 Obviously this chandy will be replaced and updated, but I love how open and airy it feels as you walk into the home.
 

 

 Nice Freiberg Law Offices home office (2nd location).

 

Hello natural light! Do pull up some couch space and stay for awhile.

 

 

The screened-in porch/bar. I'd foresee many gatherings out here after it's given a little sprucing up. This is one of two bars in the home. The minute we saw the 2nd one, I told the Hubs "you do realize that we'll never be able to leave our teenagers home alone on a weekend, right?!" Two bars and deep water access do not a smart parental decision make when one has teenagers.

 

I just die with all of the natural light in this place.

This is the view from the river. Hence the nickname "river house".

If you're going to take away my ocean, at least give me a river, please.

 

 The private dock to hours of sun and water fun.

Was the Hub's new kayak at Christmas foreshadowing?

We shall see.

 

 

 

And if it doesn't work out and this isn't meant to be our river house, I may just be ruined for any future, landlocked house as our search continues. Although, I can probably be persuaded with a pool.

There's just something about walking into a home that makes you feel like you're on vacation that seems a bit priceless.

 

Praying and waiting. And then praying for peace whatever is decided.

At this point, it's out of our hands and in His.

It's a BOY!

We've got a serious case of the blues in our household. Blue hoodies with animal ears, sailboat outfits, and blue onsies that is. Our Small Frei can officially be referred to as he or him or Sir or Mr. Hansdome Pants.

Thanks to having a baby later in life, my age qualifies for me genetic testing and we obliged. We knew the results would not change how we felt about our little bean and/or our plans, but we knew that if by the grace of God were given a baby with a Trisomy disorder, that we'd want to be prepared by joining a support group in advance and learning as much as we could to help us prepare for such a special blessing. Along with the testing came the option to find out the gender a few weeks before we'd have our milestone ultrasound. We thought "why not?" So we went for it.

We know that finding out the gender is not everyone's cup of tea, but for us it made sense. We like to plan and prepare, and a very wise friend had shared with us that finding out allows you to pray more specifically throughout the pregnancy. Once we know his name, we'll be able to pray for him by name, which I love. In the meantime, I've already started praying that he'll be strong yet soft in the right places. That he'll be a fighter, which he's already proven through a rocky first trimester, but that he'll use those skills to defend his family and the things he knows to be right and just. I pray that he's fun, silly, and adds so much joy to our family and his future friends and classmates' lives. I pray that he loves the Lord at a young age, and although it may ebb and flow at times, that he never loses that love. And I pray that he's healthy. Lord, I pray he's healthy!

And what else can a doting mother do aside from prepare and pray, you ask? Shop! And so I did. I hadn't bought a single thing for our little bean just yet, as to not jump the gun, so when we saw "male" in writing, I threw caution to the wind. Here is what I'm already learning about little boy clothes:

• They're so tiny. When I pulled out a newborn onsie to show Tim, his response was "he's going to be that small?!" My response was "probably not for long, but for my sake, I pray that he is that small." At least for the delivery! Can I get an Amen?
• Baby bow ties and fedoras melt my heart.
• Seersucker also melts said heart.
• Girls have way more options. Designers, let's step it up, shall we?
• 60% of boy clothes have tractors and dump trucks on them. Why? Are there way more farmers and excavators having babies than I'm aware of?
• 80% of the graphic onsies say "strong like daddy", "my dad is cooler than your dad", "handsome like daddy", etc... I, of course, bought the "my dad is a super hero" one for Tim to take a picture with after he finishes his 3rd Ironman (Hello, super hero!!). It was a no brainer as he certainly is OUR super hero. But I would've loved one that gave his momma a shout out too. Where's the "momma's little handsome pants" or "my momma's a germ-a-phobe, but I still love her" gear?
• Did I mention they're so tiny. I could've bought way more than I did. Here are two that I couldn't resist:

I love this one. Love. This one just says "well hello, ladies. I've got the world's smallest pocket, my pop of yellow, and I'm ready to rock this pack'n'play. Care to join me?"

 



 

One day he'll love to ride bikes with his Iron daddy. Until then, he shall wear bikes on his faux tie. 

And we cannot forget the beloved nursery. Little bean's theme will be a navy blue, nautical retreat. I had randomly collected a few nautical touches here and there on my vintage hunts over the last year "just in case" it was a boy, so we've at least got a few touches to add to the vision board. Here are a few of my inspirational photos from our friends at Pinterest, although I definitely want it to be our own and not a replica. Think maps, propellers, anchors, whales, etc...

Love the bedding in gray and navy.

 



 

I just love the brightness of this one. Wouldn't you want to play in there too?

 

I'm pretty sure I need this whale mobile from Etsy. Yep, almost 99.9% sure. It's perfection.

Now, for the hardest part.....the name. If it was a girl, we were 100% set. On the boy names, we just can't seem to agree. The Hubs suggested Beauregard on our way to dinner Saturday night. I'm going to pretend he was kidding. No offense to any Beauregards out there reading this blog. It truly is a lovely name.

Cheers to having the best case of the blues you can have!