typo

by "fiercely independent" i obviously meant "fiercely private"
that was a mis-quote. I got all excited about the fierce thing and plus I was drinking coffee at the time.

I really gotta consolidate all this bloggin' nonsense into one place so i can focus on quality vs quantity.

Oh man. I am getting destroyed here.

Wow. I should start making some excuses here.

Here are the things I am already maintaining:

Myspace
Facebook
leviweaver.com/blog
twitter
youtube.com
garageband.com
ilike.com
and my personal journal(s).
(some i keep more updated than others, apparently.)

Whereas Heather is a self-described "Fiercely Independent" soul... I, apparently, need all the attention I can get. (ha!)

-so-

I'm a little behind here.

I should make it known that i am.... hmm... there's a word for this. For all this blogging, you'd think my vocabulary would be able to just light-bulb any word ever, but i'm still struggling for it.

Combine these words:
Excited, Terrified, Giddy, Overwhelmed, Skydiving, RollerCoaster, Stage Fright, Game-Winning Basket, and Wow.

There is probably a word for that.

Extergiwhelvincoastighme-winwow.

yep. that's me.

I should note that I have always felt this way about having kids, except for the good ones. I've always said "someday", when I really meant "HA!".

But the difference, I think, is that I am so in love with this girl that the prospect of a little half-Heather makes me think the future will be a very pleasant place.

So I'm still pretty freaked out about the whole thing, but the closer this kid gets to fruition, the more the good feelings are outweighing the fearful ones. I'm not ready yet, but something tells me that by March, I will be.

-Levi

Baby Weaver Poll

Two weeks from tomorrow we're hoping to find out if Baby Weaver is a boy or a girl. Until then, what's your guess? All (one) of you, Weaver blog readers... use the poll to the right to cast your vote.

Speaking of voting - if you haven't registered yet, go do it! The deadline is coming up. You'll be happy to know that despite the debacle, I have finally registered in Nashville.

Happy October.

maternal storage tissue

The 'what to expect when you're expecting' email that I receive daily recently had this tidbit of advice for dads-to-be:
Instead of using the word fat, refer to the extra pounds as maternal storage tissue.

Here's some better advice for you, dads...

JUST. DON'T.


*I should note that this is in no way directed towards you, Levi. You are a wonderful husband, who never makes me feel anything less than beautiful. Plus, I know you're too smart to need this kind of advice :).

What's in a blog?

I’m a terrible journal-keeper. Always have been. It goes back to the days of pink lock and key diaries, continuing through to the beautifully bound notebooks that I bought annually and swore to maintain daily. I’d occasionally write an entry, spilling out my deepest thoughts and ramblings, then inevitably tear it out days later so no one else could ever read it. Maybe it has something to do with my fiercely private nature, or maybe I just don’t have anything worth writing about? Either way, it’s something that I’ve always longed to do. To be one of those thoughtful writers, documenting life and love and history. Hmmph.

The final realization that I am not, in fact, meant to be a journaler, came to me after a tour of Europe following college graduation. LC and I, along with 30 other recent grads were trekking through 11 European countries in 25 days; an experience that I would surely want to capture in journal form for old me to enjoy for years and years to come. LC even bought us both notebooks. They were matching, spiral bound with lilacs on the cover. The first two days I wrote. I tried to capture every scene, every moment, every emotion with passion and $10 adjectives. By day three, LC and I were reduced to drawing stick figures in her journal to tell the stories in our heads, the ones we came up with as we traveled through historic and beautiful cities. The ones depicting President Bush and the French President playing Boggle. The ones that kept us occupied during the long bus rides and the kept rest of the group rolling their eyes. Yeah, that kind. Her journal is full of chicken scratch caricatures of imagination that kept us giggling for hours. And mine? Mine has two long and painfully boring entries brimming with sentences like, ‘The lush green hills peeking out from underneath the wing of the plane are breathtaking.’ Yeeeah. Confirmation: me + journaling= lame.

I need to make a copy of LC’s journal. Because that, ladies and gentlemen, is what a journal should be. It should make you laugh, or cringe, or blush with memories – even if they’re represented through ridiculous little stick figures. So, maybe that’s it. Maybe I am a journaler. Maybe my definition of journaling has just always been wrong. Maybe instead of trying to capture the innermost workings of my cognizant soul, I should simply be documenting the things happening around me. In pictures and stories and laughter.

That, friends, is my new goal for this blog. Levi started this blog for us before we got married, but it’s obviously been sorely neglected. From now on, I’m going to *try* to be a faithful blogger. I’m even going to go back and predate a few entries to fill in some of the gaping holes in our story. I know that’s kind of cheating, but a lot has happened in the past year that should never be forgotten. And, I want for all of you to know us more. You should do the same, so we can keep up with you. Especially now, as we grow up, move away, change, and build families…

As of today, the last post in our blog was from July 10, 2008. We have a lot of catching-up to do!

:)

Katie & Kyle Hoskison

This weekend we went home (Texas, home) for my little sister's wedding. Katie was a stunning bride, and the ceremony and reception were perfect.

Congratulations Katie & Kyle! We love you!

Baby's First Bouquet

Thank you Auntie Hayley & Uncle Solomon!