Of Volleyball

For those of you who haven't undergone my serious bragging about my husband's athleticism: Clint is an very, very skilled volleyball player. This is a point of immense pride for me. It fascinates me to watch him (and other good players... but mainly him), pass and set the ball with perfect precision and grace, and then... WHAM!!! slam it down on the other side with a hard spike and an maniacal jump supporting it. Thump, thump, goes my beating heart.

On Saturday we are headed out to Aspen with Gabe and his family for a volleyball tournament... according to Gabe, the largest in the country. But that's according to Gabe. I've been to only one of Clint's tournaments, and was honored to ooooo and aaahhhh all day long in the hot sun at some amazing plays. He played with his first or second (something like that) cousin...

These guys were supposedly the most lethal team. But... somehow, they were left in confusion by my man and his cousin. They threw them through a loop of despair and bewilderment.

Right over ya... buddy...

Look at that air! that's my husband y'all!

Gettin' there...

Five months pregnant. I'm halfway there. I suppose since we waited over two months to tell everyone that it seems like I'm barely along. Junior likes to do somersaults at about eleven o'clock every night... he (or she) is an illusive little thing... kicking, getting me excited, grabbing Clint's hand and putting it on my stomach, and we both wait ever so patiently for another little kick... never comes, we go back to whatever we were doing, he kicks again, I grab the big man hand... we wait... never comes... until finally my baby's daddy gets to feel the little jabs for himself about a week ago. It's so much fun when your baby is showing signs of life apart from expanding your waistline. So far I don't feel like being pregnant has slowed me down much, besides my inability to eat unhealthy food without it coming back up. I suppose that is something to be thankful for... besides making a healthy baby, and keeping my weight in control, avoiding getting sick is a great incentive to eat pure, whole food.

I'm due to go play some volleyball with two sets of in-laws, so without further ado... here is your belly shot of the month. Pardon the disheveled bedroom in the background.

I am beyond thankful for...

A man that makes me proud.

A man that motivates me to go beyond my comfort zone... and tells me it makes him proud.

A man that has the perfect balance of treating me like a lady and a buddy at the same time.

A man that is manly enough to tell me how he feels.

A man that is compassionate towards other's faults and offenses when I am (extremely) not.

A man that can't resist the good ol' pouty lip...

A man that holds such a high standard for himself that he does not admit when he has just performed an impressive athletic feat.

A man that doesn't like makeup.

A man with a righteous jealously over his woman.

A man with a big chunk of boy still left in his heart.

A man who always asks me my opinion, even when I don't expect it.

A man who actually likes sushi!!! (even after we were married, mind you)

A man who says..."someday I'm going to buy you a..." (insert expensive car)

A man who never gets upset when I forget my bank password, social security number (at a crucial moment), where third gear is, etc.......

I know I'm probably all making you sick with my starry-eyed constant jabber about my perfect man, lover, friend... husband. But... I don't really care...