I don't want to be a mummy! I want to be a daddy!

Have I mentioned that Trevor is OVER the moon about this whole pregnancy thing? He has books, people. Several of them. And he knows more about what is going on with my body than I do. Trevor is a very happy boy.

I was about 8 weeks pregnant on Mother’s Day. That was actually when we told our mothers and Trevor’s grandmother that we were expecting. There is a video on my flip video of the whole thing. I don’t remember much about it other than the screams and tears of joy from Camilla and the soon to be REALLY Grammy Pammy.

As a surprise that day, Trevor also gave me a little silver cross from Tiffany’s to replace the cross that I lost about a year ago when the chain broke. So, needless to say, there was a lot of pressure to get Trevor something equally as special for Father’s Day in June.

But then the dizziness really set in thanks, in part, to the third hottest June in Dallas since records started being kept in 1899, and…well, I decided that physical misery in the name of our future spawn was enough of a present to the daddy-to-be. But so you don’t think I am completely heartless, I did get him several Father’s Day cards.

(Although, technically, one of them was from the dogs.)

In an effort to make up for my lack of a sentimental gift, I told Trevor that we could do whatever he wanted to do on Sunday, June 19th. So imagine my surprise when he drove straight to Babies-R-Us. Yes, that's right: Babies-R-Us. We spent nearly two hours in there while Trevor drooled over onesies, cribs, pack n plays and various other gadgets, swings and bouncers.

Life is good.

This was also the day that Trevor fell in love with a stroller. I think the brand name is BOB, but that might just be Trevor's pet name for it. We've since visited BOB at two different stores where Trevor has "test driven" each available model up and down the aisles. BOB has even starting to come up at dinner and randomly at the gym. As in: "I could run with the baby if we bought BOB"; "BOB has off-roading tires"; and "Look at BOB's shock absorption".

Trevor and BOB

Now that Trevor and BOB have found each other, I'm not sure that keeping them apart is possible. Although, I really thought my stroller decision would be based more heavily on research than shock absorption and off-roading capabilities.

But I digress...

You would think that two hours at Babies-R-Us would exhausted even the most excited fathers-to-be (I know I was tired, but then again I've never been much of a shopper). But, no-no. Not Trevor. He insisted on spending an additional hour at Pottery Barn Baby next, where he discovered what he now refers to as the "non negotiable chair" for the nursery and the "perfect" crib and dresser. He even went so far as to look at color swatches and baby bedding until I reminded him that we still didn't know the sex.

Speaking of: Trevor has been convinced that I am carrying a girl since the first time he saw the tiny spot on the first ultrasound back at 6.5 weeks. It has been just about all I can muster to keep him from purchasing a pink infant Cowboys cheerleading outfit. Seriously. He is just that kind of ridiculous.

Which, by the way, even if it is a girl, there is no way I am going to allow excessive amounts of pink into my house. I have limits. And, Amy, if you are reading this, FORGET about the bows. That is what you have Lola for.

Regardless of the sex, though, Trevor just can't wait for me to start showing so he can convince me to park in the Expectant Mothers parking spaces at places like Whole Foods and Tom Thumb. He has actually been trying to get me to do it for weeks, but I refuse. I just know that a cop will see me, question whether or not I am actually pregnant and I'll end up peeing on a stick behind a squad car in the parking lot to prove it. And that is not any way to spend a Tuesday evening if you ask me.

Same thing with maternity clothes. Trevor has actually looked up where to buy maternity clothes, and tricked me into going to see them. That is how we randomly ended up at Old Navy one evening. He lured me in there with some vague "I want to look at something real quick" kind of statement, and the next thing I knew, we were standing in front of pairs of blue jeans with spandex waists.

Trevor is also looking for any excuse to get me to go to A Pea In The Pod. Why he has focused so intently on this particular retailer, I don't know, but every weekend he asks me if this is the magic weekend that we get to go to A Pea In The Pod. It is almost like he is six and asking if this is the day I am going to take him to space mountain. It is all very bizarre, but then again this is the same individual that has already put some serious thought into the perfect age to take his kiddo to Disneyland.

So, yeah. Did I mention that Trevor is excited to be a daddy? I have no idea how that boy will be able to wait until December. He has wanted to be a daddy since he was little. Now only a few months separate him from poop, 2 am feedings and spit up. But, really, as long as Trevor has BOB, he is invincible. He can't wait!