I started my little blog as kind of a diary of my pregnancy.  I wanted to take the opportunity to stretch my writing wings.  I write for my job but, not creatively.  Occasionally I like throwing in fun, superfluous adjectives.  Who on God’s green, bountiful, lavish, and expanse Earth doesn’t?  Pregnancy has provided me with a host of emotional and physical afflictions to describe to you, and I can really lay the descriptors on thick, folks.

Holla!

Our first task is to write an Elevator Pitch.  (Movin’ on up! Get it?  Oh, I am witty for a Monday!)  An Elevator Pitch is a short overview or pitch. ProBlogger and Wikipedia describe it as this…

“An elevator pitch is an overview of an idea for a product, service, or project. The name reflects the fact that an elevator pitch can be delivered in the time span of an elevator ride (for example, thirty seconds or 100–150 words).” —Wikipedia

We need a short one and and a long one.  I’m using my blog tagline as inspiration for my short elevator pitch.  So here it is….

25 weeks today.  I give this dress another week, max.

You remember middle school health class right?  All the weirdly religious kids went to the library to do alternative worksheets.  We then learned about periods, testicles, and hair down-there.  (We even learned about contraception my public school in the 1990’s.  Gasp!  It’s a shocker we’re not all sex-crazed heathens learning anything but abstinence.)

Remember the teacher?  She was that woman with the short hair and the track suit a-la Sue Sylvester from Glee.

Maybe I should have written this post Fourth of July weekend but, the inspiration didn’t strike until this weekend.  I was with my family in Wilmington, NC. (A pretty little city on the coast and my parents’ hometown.  But, good God it’s hot in July there!)  We went for my Grandaddy’s 80th birthday party. (My Mom’s Dad)

It dawned on me this weekend what a wonderful blessing awaits my child.  She’ll be born with FIVE great-grandparents still living.  I am one of very few people I know with all four of my grandparents in my life.  Greyson’s sweet Gramma is in her 90’s and still very independent living up in Connecticut.  (His Mom’s Mom)

Grandaddy’s party was fun.  We were at my aunt and uncle’s house.  I loved seeing my great aunts and cousins I hadn’t seen in a long time.  They admired my little round (but growing) belly and fed me inordinate amounts of low-country fare.  Everyone wrote fun and sentimental memories about Grandaddy on note cards and I read them aloud.

One was about Grandaddy’s knowledge of our family history and the farm in Southern Virginia where he grew up.  He’s full of good tales.  He’s a Korean War veteran and was awarded a Bronze Star.  He’s been married to my Grandma for 59 years.  I got to thinking about how priceless his stories are and how lucky I am to have heard them.

Little did I know the history lessons would continue this weekend.  We spent the night with my other grandparents just down the road.  As we were talking about the baby, inspiration struck my Papa.  (My Dad’s Dad.)  He had my Grandma pull out old picture albums.  I mean, OLD picture albums.  Pictures of relatives dating back to the Civil War.

This is one of my ancestors.  The story is, he was a Confederate soldier kidnapped by the Union Army and in prison in NY before walking all the way home to NC after the war.  Apparently he was so sick and ragged only the dog recognized him when he came home.