Pregnant & Broke

Last night was my son's graduation from his first year of preschool (he still has another year of preschool to go).  Oh, the hilarity of watching the kids sing the Peanut Butter Jelly song, fight over the mic, and one kid repeatedly laying down on the floor and kicking his feet in the air for no particular reason.  I so enjoyed the evening, knowing we would never again have a "first graduation from preschool", beaming with pride over how good my boy did, singing all of the songs with his chest held high and the biggest smile you could possibly fit on his oversized 4 year old head.  It was one of life's blissful moments for sure!  That is...until someone approached me and asked me if I was expecting.  That's when I decided the party was over and it was time to go home and burn the shirt I was wearing.

And that brings me back to when I actually was expecting Mr. Braxton Riley Skar.  So there I was, 5 weeks pregnant, Baskin Robbins ice cream always close by, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I had a human being growing inside me.  Can I use my stomach muscles or will that hurt the baby?  When I have a bowel movement, do I need to try not to push too hard so I don't push the baby out?  (honest-to-goodness fears I had those first few weeks).  I tried to set the baby preparations aside to plan for our "We're-Already-Married-but-We're-Having-an-Actual-Wedding-Now" Wedding in May.  And as if being newlyweds and getting pregnant right off the bat weren't enough to take on all at once, we also found out we were being sued for a rather large sum of money (a student loan mishap through a university, we'll call it), my husband's license got suspended for an old unpaid ticket that he didn't realize was out there, and I came to the conclusion that I was going to have to buy yet another wedding dress that would fit my growing belly.  This would be the third, and final, wedding dress that I would purchase in my lifetime.  (Another story for another time).

Finally, May 7th, 2006 (our half anniversary, as we call it), rolled around and we had no money in the bank, but we had the picture-perfect dream wedding!  (Well...minus the fact that I was beginning to show and swelling was starting to come in to play).  We had the ceremony in a beautiful flower garden behind a Victorian home in Franklin, TN.  It was small-ish, with all of our closest family and friends.  As all of our groomsmen and bridesmaids stood with us, outfitted in chocolate brown and pink, we said our vows (again), ate tiny sandwiches, dipped fruit in a fountain of chocolate, cut the cake, and then danced in the evening air under a white tent and the bright stars to our live jazz band.  Picture perfect.  We made our exit in a red Sebring Convertible (Matt drove and then as soon as we were out of sight, he pulled over and I took over the wheel since his license was still suspended), and we drove to a nearby Bed and Breakfast for an overnight stay and a very awkward breakfast the next morning with complete strangers (and this is why I'm not a huge fan of B&B's.  Forced socialization -- not my thing).

The next morning it was back to reality.  We used all of our wedding gift money to pay off debts and my awesome grandparents bought us a crib as our wedding gift (most people get blenders and a salad spinner or two - leave it to us to break that mold).  We also learned a couple of weeks after the wedding that our new bundle of joy would be a baby boy.  (My motherly instinct had been 100% certain that it was a girl thus far - so much for my motherly instinct...a tell-tale sign for the future??)  It was also around this time that I decided - quite firmly - that I did not want to have a baby in an apartment and that it was necessary to buy a house immediately.

So the first 6 months of marriage brought to us two weddings, a surprise pregnancy, a lawsuit, oh - and throw in a trip to the Dominican Republic, and now a mission to buy a home.  (Not my recommendation for any of you other newlyweds out there).

The story stops here for now as the scent of a poopy diaper is trailing in from the next room, but I will leave you with our GQ Cover picture.  (This was taken back before we had children and we actually slept through the night).  Til next time...