Merry Christmas

'Tis the season for so very much!

In light of the fact that my blog shows me to be QUITE the whiner, I want to share a more uplifting post. I'm not always complaining... or maybe I am. I'm always wanting to, but do try to hold my tongue, so does that count? ;)

Being so heavily pregnant this Christmas is bringing my thoughts toward Mary like never before. I was heavily pregnant during Christmas two years ago, but I really don't remember feeling so emotionally bonded with her role in Christ's life. Maybe it's because I've since felt the pain of childbirth and the exhaustion of long months during which the needs of an infant ruled supreme. Maybe it's because I've had time to hold my child and cry over even the possibility of her future suffering.

Imagining even the most average life possible for my little Emma, I am terrified of the pains and trials she will face. I'm terrified at the possibility that her beautiful life could be cut short at any time. I feel that agony that comes with loving someone so much more than I love myself; someone so dependent on me and her dad for everything.

How on earth did Mary cope, knowing all that she knew? Knowing that she was raising, teaching, and preparing the Son of God to accomplish the single greatest act in all of our history? Knowing what she was going to have to see him endure?

How did she ever lay him down to sleep at night, knowing her time was limited and that she couldn't protect him from his future?

These thoughts, on a smaller scale, run through my mind on a regular basis during the quiet moments with my little girl. I don't know what kind of challenges my children will face, and I don't know for sure how I will prepare or protect them beyond teaching them to have faith in their Savior.

I'm grateful to Mary for the role she played in the Savior's life, because I know that the Atonement was completed for everyone, but most especially for my children. And I couldn't be more grateful.

If you haven't watched the  new video from the church, you really ought to. The greatest gift of all was that sweet little baby  in Bethlehem.

Wherein I whine more than usual

Cruddy news:

• I have reached the second to last chapter of this pregnancy. I'm in that hazy part where I'm so close that I literally want to do nothing more than sleep, eat, and complain about contractions. However, I'm weeks away. So I can't. I seize every opportunity I get, but real life seems to want me to keep up with a billion other obligations. I JUST WANT TO FEEL LIKE EVERYTHING IS CAUGHT UP ALREADY!
• My house is a cluttery mess of disorganization. I'm trying to find places for everything/throw things away, but it requires so much attention, energy, and physical ability. Unfortunately it has all of my attention, but none of the other two requirements. So I'm driving myself crazy, yet accomplishing virtually nothing. Splendid.
• I would seriously love for someone to just come and do all that work for me. I'm so tired alllll day long.
• So many contractions. Braxton-Hicks for me can be described by naming one animal: a boa constrictor. Just imagine one inside your body. Almost every single contraction makes me feel like I'm being strangled. It's normal, just super frustrating and exhausting.
• WHY AM I NOT SLEEPING?
• I can't sleep well these days. It's a ridiculous struggle. Add to that the fact that when the temperature outside dips below 60, Mr. Hottie thinks we need the space heater turned on. Can't. breathe. Too. stuffy. Need. air. 
• Restless legs. Enough said.
• Heartburn. It feels like icy fire.
• Every day feels like another round with some weird sickness where I can't seem to feel normal. My brain is broken and the rest of me wonders when it will stop feeling so hurt and exhausted. 

Happier news:

• When I do sleep, it is wonderful.
• I am beginning to dilate, so at least these contractions are accomplishing something. 
• I am feeling more and more pressure bearing down. Okay, so that's not exactly happy news beyond the fact that it means baby is starting to move into position. Other than that it just means WAY more discomfort for me and a constant about-to-pee-my-pants sensation.

Thoughts:

• I spend more time than necessary comparing myself to other mothers, and though I recognize the folly in that, I keep hoping there is good in that as well. I'm not talking about the mothers who seem to always have it together. Rather, the ones who seem to always be able to power through the various miseries of pregnancy and motherhood with their proverbial plates of busyness full to overflowing. How do they do it so gracefully? As in, without complaining ALL the time. Every time someone asks me to fulfill any kind of church anything these days I just want to punch them in the face and say, "Don't you see I have my hands full?! I have a toddler running one direction while my energy flees in a different direction. Ask someone else!" ....except who ISN'T busy at church? Everyone has a daunting to-do list and a whole host of justifications as to why they can't, except they don't use them. I do. Regardless, at this point I don't feel guilty. I've struggled through long enough to say that this is where I draw the line for this particular pregnancy. I just can't keep trying like I have been, and I reserve the right to be a tired old grump...mostly because I can't even pretend that I'm not a tired old grump. Check back in a few months after I've sufficiently recovered from giving birth. 

I don't want to sound ungrateful. I'm really still very excited about this pregnancy and am sooooooo very excited to meet this new little spirit! I'm just so worn out physically and emotionally right now. If I could fall asleep soon, that would be great. Sleep is the best medicine for both ailments!

3rd trimester. And stuff.

• I've finally reached the beginning of the final stretch of this pregnancy! I swear it's flown by, but the next 12 weeks sure do look intimidating. I feel like that time is going to just crawl on by, with me beside it. You know, since it's only a matter of time before my hips and legs give up on walking altogether.  I seriously seem to end, and occasionally, begin, each day with a shuffle and a limp because things aren't working together quite properly. It hurts. 

• Emma and I are working on getting her toilet trained. It's so exhausting. So far the plan (which is not the same plan I began with) is to spend a few hours every evening in her training undies and keep a timer set. We go until the few hours are up or she pees in all three undies pairs we have. We've done one day so far. I know the experts say that being "off and on" or "inconsistent" serves to only confuse children and prevent adequate training. They don't know my life.

• Sleep is so precious these days. Why am I staying up to write a blog post? 

• I've been struggling a lot with a lack of self-worth lately. The rational side of my brain keeps trying to lecture the struggling side, but the struggling side just keeps giving my rational side the bird. Together, we are making approximately zero progress, but I'm trying to remain optimistic. 

• I'm so excited with the slowly cooling weather. Give me some cuddle clothes and cuddle temps, stat!

• I'm also excitedly anticipating a phone call from the library. The 3rd Percy Jackson book is currently checked out, but I have it reserved like an eleven-year old nerd. I just need to finish the series, dang it! 

• On that subject, I wish they didn't shelve it in the kids side of the library. It makes me feel way less than cool checking out my books just a few shelves away from where Emma's books are located. 

By way of update

It's been a while since I've blogged. I've become THAT blogger. Ouch!

1. As of today, I am 25 weeks pregnant. I could muse forever about how excited I am, but I could also complain forever about how miiiiiserable I feel. Because seriously. I think I'm growing a litter.

2. Wonder Baby is now Wonder Toddler. She is 20 months old I guess (give me a minute to count... yes, 20 months is right). I lost count after 18, so I just stick with describing her age as "just past 18 months" or "she'll be 2 in February". Close enough, right? She is the most delightful little spitfire in the world. So much drive, curiosity, passion, and desire in that one. She wants to have her way every. single. second. I didn't even know there were so many opportunities in a day to demand one's own way, but boyyyy does she find them. On the other hand, she is equally passionate with her affection. For instance, this morning after we slept in together (HEAVEN), I was laying there at 8:55 AM (rubbing it in, am I?), deciding whether or not I was going to try to fall back asleep or just play on my phone when suddenly her head popped up in my periphery. Within one second the sloppiest good morning kiss was being administered to my mouth. It was disgusting, but she popped back up with a smile, and cuddled into me for a hug. So much love for that girl.

3. Darren is still in school. He has a little less than a year left, and it can't come soon enough! School is difficult any time, but it sure is getting old! He's still super handsome though, and it's very fun to watch him be Emma's daddy. We talk as though the baby is going to be a boy, and it's especially endearing to hear him talk about "him". He will obviously love another daughter, but the possibility of a son is so thrilling. We love our babies.

4. Did I mention that we've decided to keep the baby's gender a secret until the big day? We're super excited about that big reveal.

5. I'm currently watching middle of the night episodes of "Frasier" because I can't sleep for anything, and Emma just happened to wake up a few minutes ago. So now she's sitting next to me on the couch intently watching the show, not even caring that we aren't snuggling or going back to sleep yet. That's either a good thing or a bad thing. I don't really care which, because it's not changing anything.

6. Pregnancy complaining: I am so uncomfortable. Was I this uncomfortable with Emma? I guess I could dig back through and see if I blogged that. I feel like I'm 8 months pregnant. The only thing that's missing are the millions of Braxton Hicks contractions. Don't worry, I'm still getting them, just not with the same frequency or intensity of actually being 8 months pregnant. ;)

7. The baby is incredibly wiggly and loves to stretch out. It's new favorite position is from front to back, in such a manner that my belly button threatens to burst. It makes it difficult to stand, walk, sit, turn, lay down, pee, eat, or play with the toddler. Thankfully the most uncomfortable moments tend to wait until closer to the end of the day, when I can realistically dream about getting to lay down in my bed.

Things I knew would be a part of motherhood, but now that I'm here...I can't even.

1. Diapers. So much time spent groping, sniffing, and inspecting the darn things. Every box is the last box I'm ever going to buy, dang it!

2. Poop. Color, texture, berth, ease of passage. In the diaper or on the toilet. Knew it was coming or found it by happenstance while inspecting a diaper. 

3. Arguing about clothes/possession of MY things/OCD tendencies of the toddler/who gets to sit where. We butt heads on so many things, it's scary. Sometimes I am the communication master and am able to dialogue our way through, but other times I'm just as articulate as the toddler. 

4. Saying things like, "Stop playing behind the toilet!", "Get my phone OUT of the potty!" (the training one...), "Don't throw the cat off the porch!". Etc. So many weird commands proceed from my mouth on a daily basis.

Time out

Surely I'm not the only parent who secretly loves putting their child in time out. She's so hilarious! Simultaneously dramatic and shy, the only choice she leaves me is watch and silently giggle. And take pictures. She ALWAYS covers her face when she's in trouble. 

The baby is napping, so I have a little time to write

1. I am losing so much hair this pregnancy! With Emma I had nothing but luscious locks, but with this little butter bean my head is behaving really similarly to how it did after Emma was born. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiirrrrrr eeeeeevvvvveeeerrrrryyyyywwwwwhhhheeeeeerrrreeee.

2. My latest Netflix venture is "Chuck". I'm enjoying everything about it, though Darren doesn't seem to care much for it. He makes fun of me every time the show makes me laugh. As though it's any more nerdy than his shows....* scoff *

3. I look forward to the day when a bad night of sleep for Emma doesn't have to mean a bad night of sleep for me. I only had got up with her once, for a grand total of about 30-40 minutes, but I kept hearing her over the monitor randomly cry out in her sleep, all night long. That, of course, had me on high alert when I really didn't want to be, making it hard to relax.

4. Several months ago, Holli recommended that I look into the words and works of Cesar Millan in order to maximize my relationship with Spock. Since she has the world's best dog, I knew I could trust her recommendation. Darren scoffed (does he ever not? ;) ) and rolled his eyes at his memories of his many customers wanting Cesar stuff when he worked at Petco. I can understand the negative association (much like I roll my eyes every time I hear someone say they only ever use homeopathic medicine...not inherently a bad idea, but you just get so sick of hearing about it on the clock that it haunts you forever...). ANYWAY. I happened to find a beat up book of his when I was at Petco one day. I don't know why it was in the condition it was in, but I took advantage and asked for a discount, was granted it, and took it home. It took a while to get into because I am honestly very turned off with all his "colors of the wind" speech (for lack of a better description), but I'm finally getting into the meat of it, and all I can say is that I can recognize truth when I see it. My attitude as a dog-mom is changing, and it's really helping me understand him better and communicate with him more effectively (I hope). My sis-in-law's dad also recommended using Pupperoni as incentive. I tell you, I've never seen that dog lay down so fast...

5. For some reason, every single time I've ever posted on Facebook about Wuthering Heights, everyone and their mom tries to convince me that it is the worst book in the world. Have I seriously not made it clear enough that is is my FAVORITE book in the world? (if you have known me a while, the answer is, "Of course you've made it perfectly clear.") Nothing nice to say, keep your trap shut. Come on. I'm beginning to take it personal, though that may be the hormones reacting.

In all honesty, it depends on who is talking. People with whom I've had a longstanding discussion about it are welcome to reiterate their opinions--I expect them. It's everyone else. If a friend of mine posted about their favorite movie/book/magazine/whatever I would never hop on and trash it. I would assume I have nothing to contribute and let them continue on in their preference because my opinion is irrelevant.

Again. It might just be the hormones. Or I might hate the world.

6. Today I emptied and began the cleaning process for several sippy cups and two bottles that haven't been cleaned in, literally, days-weeks. It was revolting. If I ever have to feed my children formula as infants, we are in for a bad run...dishes are not my forte.

They are currently soaking in the most piping hot soapy water ever.

Splish splash!

It only took 4 rounds of coming to the splash park, but Wonder Baby finally took the plunge! She was ALL OVER that place! Normally I have to force her in the water, which leads to a lot of running away and sputtering. I didn't even have to get wet! I love that water baby. 

On weaning

Weaning.

The word itself makes me cringe.

It sounds so much like....deprivation? Like, "you clearly need, want, or depend on this so much we have to manipulate you into living happily without it" deprivation.

In any case, it's been a hot topic around here for a few months now as we've been trying to figure out the right time and how we are going to approach it. Sure, I'd love to let her nurse as long as she wants, but I'm too selfish for that. Not that moms who wean are selfish, but I literally can't come up with a reason as to why I should wean her that isn't completely in my own self-interest. So be it.

The most compelling reason has been the winner though, it having everything to do with how The Girls feel in light of my being with child. They don't feel great.

It's pretty easy to say "no" when the alternative is super painful.

I think Emma has nursed her last. Tuesday morning was the last time we nursed this week, and I've been saying "no" ever since, with fairly minimal protesting. Sure, she keeps asking. But all I have to do (most of the time) is ask her  where her milk is, and she goes to retrieve her sippy from wherever she last left it.

Putting her down for her nap or bedtime is still tricky, but it seems to be getting easier. And by that I mean smoother. Easy is relative, and the evolving routine seems to take a very long time. That kid takes a while to drift to sleep without nursing.

The reality of it is starting to sink in, and it is making me sad. I miss that part of our relationship and will always remember it as special. At the same time, that aspect of our relationship is transitioning into something new, something equally special, and something that I'm excited about. The cuddles I get when she's falling asleep now are out of this world, whereas before, cuddling always meant nursing. The version of her that just sits on my lap and lays on my chest when she wants to reconnect throughout the day is a version of her that I have been waiting to meet for a long time. My baby is becoming my little girl.

Go, go, go

I seriously, at this moment, do not think I could be any more tired than I am.

Let me tell you about my day...

I knew in advance that today would be exhausting. I was scared to face it, but all days end, no matter how tiring, right? Oh please be right.

We started by not getting much sleep the night before. That part I did NOT know about in advance. Emma woke up before I went to bed, complaining of some teething pains. Lucky for me, I developed some pretty funky nausea right about the same time, so we were quite a pair. She finally fell asleep completely (i.e. soundly enough for me to sneak out of the room...something I attempted about 6 times) around 2 AM. I was awakened at 5:55 this morning by what sounded like Spock trying to bust out of his gate. I hurried out to stop him because it was noisy and Darren's alarm was set for 6 o'clock. We all know there's nothing crueler than waking up right before your alarm goes off.

It wasn't Spock making all that racket, though he was wide awake. I threw my bedroom door open to see Emma at the end of the hall rattling the dog gate like a prisoner and giggling. I noticed a pile of toys at Spock's feet, evidence that a generous toddler was in the vicinity. I let Spock out and took Emma and her toys back to her bedroom, which, by the way, had been completely rearranged.

This all begs the question, "How long has Emma been awake?"

We'll never know.

Fast forward to play group. We went to the splash park. I knew being outside was a risk because NOTHING drains my energy faster than sunlight. I'm the opposite of just about every solar energy device.

When we got home I had an hour to get us showered, fed, and ready to run out the door to pick my grandma up for visiting teaching.

We had three appointments, and our team consisted of one old lady, one pregnant lady, one baby and an non-air conditioned vehicle. That's a lot of driving in the bloody, blistery heat, a lot of carseat action, a lot of trying to talk over the wind blowing in the windows, and a heck-a-lot of being thirsty. Also, a lot of trying to keep Emma from destroying the homes of the women we were visiting.

Oh, and NO NAPS FOR MOMMY.

All in all, my face feels like it has 5 pound sandbags hanging from my eyeballs and I've been craving Thanksgiving dinner for the last 24 hours.

Longest. day. ever.

----------------------------------------

In light of all my whining above, I just wanted to mention that Emma has been quite a dear so far tonight in that she fell asleep on the way home for a late visit to my parents', and stayed asleep for the transfer from car to bed. She woke up briefly a few minutes ago, but wanted nothing more than for me to snuggle her in bed. She's asleep again.

Easy bedtimes are like mini lotteries for me. I can't believe I won.

To make it official...

Awwww yeeeeeaaah! I got me a little butterbean in my lady oven. We're creeping up on 10 weeks now, and I'm feeling great TIRED! All the time! Except for the middle of the night, apparently. My body thinks it's real funny to keep me up way past when Darren goes to sleep. I'm tired but can't sleep. Ya feel me?

Anyway, for Blogsterity's sake, this is what I think about all day and night:

• My belly is growing fast. So fast.
• My pants don't fit.
• My skin is SOOOOOOOOOO GREASY. I bypassed teenage acne with a porcelain facade, but that is no more. I've never had so many pimples! I can't wait until these early pregnancy symptoms fade into nothing more than an ugly memory.
• I'm tired.
• My hair is also super greasy. If you see me about, I'm likely sporting a nappy messy bun. It's better than the grease pile.
• My boobs hurt, and nursing is the pits. Consequently, we're on an accelerated course towards having a fully weaned Emma. I'm still nursing her at bedtime though. I can handle one round of pain a day... for now. 
• I'm tired.
• I can't breathe. 
• I'm not sure I'll be able to physically handle living a functional life with two children. I know I'm tired now, so when I try to imagine Future Me she is always as tired as Present Me. It's exhausting to day dream. 
• I am moooooooooody. 
• ...and EXCESSIVELY emotional! I cry. All the time. The stupid Disney channel chokes me up when it plays even the remotest of sappy scenes.
• I smell terrible approximately way too soon after I shower. 
• Eating makes me feel really stuffed really fast. And then I have a hard time breathing. 
• I'm tired.
• I can't wait to snuggle a newborn.
• I'm excited for Emma to be a big sister. She tried to take her newborn cousin from my arms the other day. She handled the baby about like she handles puppies. Strangle nation.
• I am grateful every day that we transitioned Emma from the crib to a twin mattress. We spend a lot of time in her room with the door shut--her playing with her toys and me sleeping/playing dead on her bed, content in knowing she can't escape. It's always fun to watch her play, almost oblivious to my presence. She knows how to keep herself busy, that's for sure. Sometimes she'll crawl in bed with me and fall asleep. Occasionally she wakes me up crying because she's hurt herself. Other times she wakes me up by planting a sloppy kiss on my mouth. I guess true love really does wake the princess ;) 
• Mental exhaustion. Can't keep track of nada. Can't even use the correct words half of the time. 
• I'm tired. 

In any case, we are excited beyond belief. This little baby is quite loved already, and I look forward to all the fun parts of pregnancy that lie ahead. Thanks for letting me whine about the less fun parts :) 

Midnight musings

I can't sleep.

History has proven that blogging under these circumstances will prove any one or combination of boring, long-winded, short, exciting, hilarious, or lame. Proceed at your own discretion.

1. I've become super passionate about breastfeeding Emma. In the beginning it was the obvious choice, then it became a chore, then it became an accomplishment, then it became a need, and now.....I don't even know what to call it. I don't want to breastfeed her forever, because in a lot of ways it is more inconvenient than any emotional benefit I can claim for myself, but I don't want to stop. I don't want to be responsible for stopping. I don't want to arbitrarily choose a day and say, "This shall be the last." I love our relationship. I love when she stares at me while nursing. I love when she smiles. I love when I tickle her feet and she tries so hard to not laugh because she doesn't want to lose her grip. I love when she stops suddenly to make faces at me because she knows they'll make me laugh. I love how much she loves nursing. I love the times when I'm so caught up in playing on my phone or the computer, or staring at the TV, and I think to take a moment and glance at her face, and she is just seriously staring at me. It's as though she's saying, "Hey Mom, this really isn't going to last forever. Pay attention and enjoy me." It's those times when I discard my distractions and interact with her. The payoff is immediate, because her reaction is immediate. She knows when I'm paying attention--REALLY paying attention.

Incidentally, I did attempt to wean her cold turkey a few weeks ago. We lasted 48 hours. For the most part it was a seamless transition. I wasn't ready though. I felt like something was missing, and I was becoming increasingly unhappy about choosing to stop, but felt burdened by my decision, scared to be responsible for botching our progress. Even so, I did just that. When I let her nurse again, the way she reacted made me cry. I don't even really know how to describe it. You know when people post YouTube videos on Facebook of baby animals reuniting with their parents, or children with their military parents, etc? You know those tears you cry because the happiness of the people/animals in the videos is so tangible? That's what it was like. She was so CONTENT. So pleased. So comfortable. So happy. Everything was just right in her world. I cried a lot.

2. We have all the paint we need to paint the interior of our house. Problem is, I hate painting walls. Any takers? We even have a ceiling that needs some attention.

3. I am constantly amazed at how things seem to never go according to plan, but Heavenly Father keeps us afloat. Even with all the stupid decisions we've made/continue to make. He forgives our folly, and provides the necessary means. I hope I choose to be that kind of parent in the critical moments.

4. We got air conditioning in one of our vehicles today. I cannot even begin to describe how luxurious that feels when driving down the road. It seemed like such an inaccessible dream (and it is still not a done deal...you know how credit cards are...), but it's happened. Do not take your air conditioning for granted, folks! Retrieving Emma from her car seat and not having to wipe her face and pat the back of her clothes dry is almost reward enough. In any case, that vehicle is going to scout camp next week, so I certainly won't be reaping the benefits. Darren will be, however, when he returns from a week in the forest with a group of young boys whose hygiene is already questionable. I can only imagine the stench.

5. I have this terrible condition where I am terrible at being a friend, and often decline invitations to social events when they don't suit my mood. The terrible consequence of that is that when I most want to go out, I don't have anyone to call on. I don't let myself become particularly close to anyone, so the notion of spontaneous girls' nights is unreachable. I blame the fact that I never learned how to be friends with girls, and now that I'm married, I can't just go hang out with the guys. Not that I have any guys left, but seriously. That is probably the only thing I really miss about being single. Hanging out with the guys. Couple hang outs are cool and all, but that's a whole 'nother level of complexity, because it essentially requires a million entities to accept and love all the others under those circumstances, and I'm just not that great at navigating those treacherous waters. I will say we hung out with a couple from our ward last week, and we had a blast. I was 100% at ease. I left at "intermission" (between swimming/food and movie) to go home and change from my swimsuit into real clothes before we started the movie (didn't even think to pack them), and returned to their home in sweat pants, an old t-shirt, and my house slippers. I was kind of anxious about how she might feel about my complete grunginess, but when I walked in I saw that she'd changed into basically the same thing, except she was wearing shorts. I'm so grateful for sloppy clothes.

6. I am so over the "I wish I knew who my true friends were" posts on Facebook. Isn't there some way I can set them all up together so that all those lonely people can become each other's true friends? As stated above, my true friendship really seems to only extend as far as my own personal convenience will let it. We'll cover my selfishness issues another times.

7. I am also over the assumptions people make. This is totally blown out of proportion, I know. I really shouldn't be so irritated, but the truth is that I am. When people assume things about me to my face, I want nothing more than to spite them completely by doing the opposite. I was speaking to another mom recently, and I was telling a food story about Emma. I don't even remember what the story was. I just know I was interrupted partway through a sentence with, "YOU'RE STILL BREASTFEEDING HER THOUGH, RIGHT?!". Um...yes? "Oh good, just checking...". Just checking? JUST CHECKING? I'm sorry I forgot to submit our monthly "still at it!" report to your office, lady. But, oh yeah, it's none of your business! If she had asked in any other manner I wouldn't be irritated about it, but my goodness. As though Emma's life were at stake. What would she have said if I had told her no? I really wonder. It was also nice to know that she was truly listening. It means a lot to know that I was just spewing words until her brain filter picked up the buzzwords she felt like reacting to.

8. I finally got my wedding ring re-sized and am able to wear it again this week for the first time in months. As much as I hated to concede to the reality of my now super chubby fingers, I feel like a new wife again. I can't stop staring at it. I had forgotten how staring at it makes me think about Darren more throughout the day. I love having that reminder.

9. Spock has fleas. Ugh. His meds came in today, so hopefully by the time I check on him tomorrow he'll be in the clear. I'm new to all this, and it's not my favorite thing. He's been so neglected during this time, and it makes me sad.

10. When Emma and I went to retrieve the now air conditioned car today, we made a memory. I did anyway. It was so inconvenient, but such a randomly sweet experience. I was carrying her absurdly heavy carseat a bit awkwardly over my should, kind of like a plate in a restaurant, and with my other hand, was holding Emma's hand. Since the mechanic is within walking distance (2 minutes without a child or carseat....about 10 with), I knew that was the only way we could make it with the carseat. She was a champ. There were a few times she wanted to explore away from me, but for the most part she stayed the course. She was so curious about everything she saw. We walked along the gravel alleyway behind our home for a short spell, and as soon as she realized she was on rocks she threw my hand and stopped to bend over and get some. I bent to grab her hand, and she went limp on me. She's so determined to get what she wants, and it is really pretty cute (albeit life-threatening when I'm lunging for her with a bajillion pound carseat over my head). When we got to the shop I set the carseat down in front of the counter and placed her in the seat. For the duration of our visit she watched workers go by, smiling and waving at each one. I so love that little girl.

Speaking of her, I've heard her stirring and whining. She wants me. Peace out.

Being the mother of a walker

Emma is walking everywhere now. It is beyond cute!

Everyone told me that I would regret wanting her to walk. Ummm, I don't regret it yet. And I'm pretty sure I'll never regret it.

"You only think she's getting into stuff as a crawler! Just you wait!"

"She'll be so hard to keep up with!"

Let me tell you the difference between Crawling Emma and Walking Emma: I don't have to carry Walking Emma everywhere we go.

That alone makes walking SO worth it. Walking Emma doesn't even necessarily need to be walking all by herself to make my life easier. Sometimes she just needs to hold my pinky. That leaves me with exactly the same number of hand and arm I had available before she started walking, but without the crushing weight of her body on my hip, arm, and spine.

Yes, I suppose she is getting into stuff more, but even then I'm not sure "more" is the word I would use. I think "more capable" describes her better. Whereas before I would find random things scattered around a fairly controlled space, I'm finding them in different rooms more frequently (I'm talking to you Random Sweet Potato that was outside my bedroom door this afternoon).

The sweetest part to me about having a walker is the independence. She has so much pride in her accomplishments, even at this incredibly young age. She know when we are pleased with her and takes it very personally when we disapprove of what she's doing.

Becoming more capable with her legs has made getting off of our bed more feasible. I put her down to nap on my bed today, quite comforted in knowing that she could easily get down without hurting herself. However, I shut the bedroom door. Toward the end of her nap I had the inspiration to go ahead and leave the door open since I was going to be quietly working on the computer on the other side of the house anyway, and maybe she'll just come and find me when she's awake. About a half hour later I was sitting here at the computer when I heard little feet slapping through the laundry room. I then heard the dog gate shut (she's a little OCD about closing doors). Then I got to listen to her little independent steps carry her through the kitchen and dining room and into the hallway. I called out to her, and she turned to walk to me, just beaming with sleepy happiness that she'd found her mother. She immediately came into the room and walked straight into my arms for a few minutes of cuddling. No tears. No trauma in the nap ending. No standing at the crib rail screaming her head off. Just waking up and coming back into the flow of household happenings.

The feelings I feel in those moments are ones I hope that I never forget. I love that little girl who has no shortage of attitude or sweetness.

Picking is Genetic

I have read in various places at various times descriptions of the neurotic behaviors of self-described pickers, and all I could ever really think at those times was, "It's like they're in my head!". Not the least disturbing of these moments was when I watched a random episode of "My Strange Addiction" on Netflix about a girl who obsessively picked her skin raw and I identified with some of the thoughts she had--THOUGHTS THAT LANDED HER IN THERAPY. Let's just say that's the last episode of THAT show I ever watched.

My daughter is a picker. A little 15 month old picker.

I have this little brown freckle-mole thing situation directly above my left breast. It isn't in a sketchy location, and is quite visible when I wear a "low-cut" shirt or swimsuit.

That little freckle-mole is on death row.

At first I didn't think anything of it because she was only fidgeting with it when she nursed on that side. But soon I noticed that she was deliberately trying to grab the "edges" of it. She was watching it while in the very act of taking milk from my body. I was nurturing her the best way I know how and she was trying to rip my skin off. About 1 second after that I felt that uncomfortable shot of pain that comes with attempting to rip flesh that needs no ripping.

I began to prohibit the activity, but guess where that leads?

Screaming. Unbelievable screaming. And hitting. She will have that freckle-mole, dang it!

Given the fact that most of the time this occurs in the middle of the night (and the fact that she is pretty unreasonable when she's fully conscious), I found it difficult to discipline it away.

My next attempt to stop the behavior was to simply place my hand over the area and hope she didn't notice or care.

She notices and definitely cares. Unless I can slip my hand in place while she's mostly out of it, she knows, and the whole world stops until she gets what she wants.

Third attempt was to act hurt (not hard to do). Every time she grabbed it this morning I would yelp "ow!" and make a sad face. The little sadist wasn't moved, and she was only slightly startled.

I have one option left. Remove the freckle-mole myself. Granted, this won't be my first mole removal (because let's not forget that the baby's mother is also a picker), however, in my experience, they don't stay gone without professional assistance. That isn't stopping me, however, and besides, she's already gotten it started for me over the course of only a few days. If I can get it out of the picture for a while, maybe she'll be less interested in it by the time it comes back. I don't have much hope in that however.

Once a picker, always a picker.

***I'm aware that this all sounds pretty disgusting. I do not apologize.

My room is better!

I'm beginning to think that no part of my home will be perfectly "put together" until the rest of my home is perfectly put together. Every time I start a project and dive in strong, I work like a dog until the day is done, but still don't finish whatever project I've started. This is largely because of the million side projects that I pick up along the way... one day I'll wake up, and it will all be complete. Darren says that's because he'll have done it all ;)

Anyway, today's accidental project was our bedroom. It was supposed to be installing shelves in Emma's closet (shelves that I cut and measure several weeks ago...but got distracted from completing at that time...). Our bedroom has been at the very end of my priority list since moving in since it's not a room that people see. However, I've been feeling pretty cramped in here, and the mess (mostly my mess) was beginning to suffocate me. So I pulled out a box to collect Goodwill stuff, a box to collect stuff that I need to find a place for, some garbage bags, and a paper towel roll with cleaning spray. Once the garbage was mostly bagged up and my junk was piled onto the bed, I REARRANGED THE FURNITURE. Rearranging furniture is NOT something I usually take much pleasure in (thanks to many years of sharing a room with Anne-Marie...a girl way too fond of rearranging her living space). When we first moved into the house, the guys moving our furniture set up the bedroom without my input because I wasn't home. I seeeriously wish they'd waited for my arrival! In any case, the bed was oriented longways across the short distance of the bedroom, shrinking it by a lot. I've been wondering about turning it longways, trying not to hope that it would actually help. IT DOES. The room feels SO much bigger, and I was able to find much better locations for our dressers. It isn't perfect, but goodness. I feel like I can breathe, and decorating feels more appealing.

If anyone wants to donate money to our House Makeover Fund, feel free. I need paint (colors picked out and everything!) and some decor supplies. This room and our bathroom are the next rooms I want to paint. If I could get them painted, I can't even describe the level of accomplishment I would feel.

Oh! I also finally washed our bedsheets again. I honestly don't know how frequently I do so, but every time I do it feels like "finally" is a good word to use. In any case, I looooove laying on fresh bed sheets!

To make up for my ultra boring late night musings (boring to you, maybe....I'm really excited about the new layout of my room! ;) ), here are some pictures to remind you how adorable my daughter is:

Obviously not my daughter, but it makes me laugh. It's like someone took a camera to my insides. 

Among the many activities I love to observe, her "talking on the phone", whether that phone be her hand, mine or Darren's phones, or her play phone, is somewhere close to the top. It's hilarious. She coos and grunts to whomever is on the other end of the line. 

She refuses to approach chairs correctly. Every once in a while she'll sit in the bumbo or her tiny piano chair correctly, but she quickly corrects herself and sits in it her way. And it's not like I don't show her the right way. David said it best by describing her approach to everything as unconventional. Truth. 

We're missing Conner. We got to keep him for a few days last week while Amanda was out of town, and Emma adored every second. They were so fun together. 

Spock

Spock and I have reached a new level of bonding that has made caring for him a little easier the last couple of days.

This morning he won my heart again. I was upset about some things, so I went outside to be alone.  He'd been outside, so as soon as I opened the door he came bounding up. I sat on the stoop, and he saw my face. That little pup KNEW I was sad. He cuddled up to me, and threw his legs over my lap, then laid his head on his puppy arms. He tried to lick my face, but that's a line I don't let him cross, no matter how sad I am... ;)

That's something I've always wanted to experience. I am so happy knowing he'll be there for my kids too.

His little puppy junk is scheduled for snipping in about a month. I'm so excited.

I can't believe how much he's grown in the short time he's been with our family!

I think this was his second day with us. He had almost zero control on our cruddy laminate haha

Playing today during conference.

Playing this week. He's got such a goofy smile!

I want to whine a lot...

Oh my goodness gracious, WHY do I have to be awake right now?!?!

I went to bed late and needed to wake up early, per the norm. So OF COURSE Emma is having one of those nights. She woke up about 1:30, and I was able to put her back to sleep shortly thereafter, but she beckoned me back with some shrieking about 5 minutes later. On top of all that, my leg muscles seem to think I worked out yesterday or something, because they are ACHING. I want to chug pickle juice, but the only pickles with have in the house are bread and butter flavored. I don't feel like vomiting tonight. I've eaten a couple of bananas, which has helped some, so hopefully they'll feel normal soon.

Anyway, the second time I responded to her I went ahead and brought her back to bed where she nursed some, but kept fussing and tossing and turning, and shrieking some more. GAME OVER. We went to the kitchen where I put her on the floor so that I could get her some Tylenol...she immediately tried to release Spock from his crate. Fast forward a bit and I'm watching "Good Luck Charlie" (don't judge, it's the middle of the night and Disney Channel is weirdly addicting) while Emma verrrry busily plays with her wood stacking toys on the other side of the room. Every few minutes she looks at me and smiles, which melts my heart.

She's now moved on to another set of toys in the playground called our living room.

Driving to the temple tomorrow should be suuuuuuuuper fun... I might just risk the possible effects of an energy drink in my breastmilk. That's not something I've experimented with yet, so I suppose now is just as good a time as any...

I WANT TO SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

Babies and Puppies

1. Life feels like a whirlwind these days! Emma is growing, growing, growing, aaaaand growing some more! I've been so baffled for the last week or so wondering why I end each day SO tired (like, wayyyyyyy more than usual), but I finally figured it out today. The more active Emma becomes, the more active I've had to be become! Like, seriously, I took her to the park yesterdayy by myself for the first time (don't judge...it never occurred to me before then that such an endeavor could be worth it because she's so young still). Monday, I cut the front and side yards. Park + grass cutting = me feeling like I've worked out two days in a row. Woohoo!

2. She is most certainly NOT too young for the park. We had soooo much fun! However, we were filthy afterwards. She found every patch of dirt and sand and had herself a jolly good time. We took a shower after returning home, and then I put her down for a nap. She was out like a lightbulb.

3. She's officially walking! Well, wobbling. She started taking a few steps at a time the other day. She's still not super confident about it, except at the most inappropriate times. She keeps attempting to stand on precariously ledges, such as the porch steps. I'm not super okay with that, but okay.

4. I don't know if I've talked about Spock here on the blog. He is our beautiful Golden Shepherd! His daddy is a pure German Shepherd, and his momma is a pure Golden Retriever. He looks like a black shorter-haired Golden Retriever with Shepherd coloring on his face and legs. His snout is kind of long and narrow. He's a real sweetheart who thinks he is a lap dog. If I sit on the floor AT ALL he climbs right up on my lap and tries to get comfortable (sometimes I let him.....sometimes, I definitely don't ;) ). He still needs a lot of training, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to Neutering Day. I'm not sure when exactly it will happen, but it WILL be within the next two months. I hope I'm not setting myself up for disappointment (I probably am...), but I'm looking forward to the mellow-er version of him that is supposed to be born.

He gets in a trouble a lot, and I lose my temper with him much more than I am happy with, but the dude knows how to communicate sadness. He knows when he's in trouble, which usually softens me up pretty quickly afterwards. Those eyes! Gosh. Anyway, he's handful, but I love witnessing his and Emma's love/hate relationship (nothing but love on his side) ...she's not always so sweet, but he makes her giggle so much, and they will be beeest friends for years!

Oh, also, he's going to be HUGE. He's already a big ol' 4 month old.

5. I went on an ADD cleaning rampage today. The end result? ONE corner of the kitchen is clean and tidy and the fridge is cleaned. The rest of the kitchen and dining room, however, are about 4 times messier than when I began. The stove top is 100% messier than when I began as it now hold about 30 thousand containers of previous dinners and bacterial cultures, carefully grown over the course of about the last 1 to 6 months. Yes, I cleaned out the fridge AT LAST. Go ahead and feel good about yourself for not being as gross as me.

6. I'm up way too late. But I've written a real blog post! I won't tell you that it took me two days to get it written.

Oh wait...

Journal Post

Over several years of institute and child-free adult Sunday School classes (AKA my single years, AKA classes where I was actually able to use my scriptures) I seem to have acquired a lot of junk in my scripture case. I've decided to clean it out this morning and throw most of it away. However, there are actually a few quotes that I'd like to preserve without cluttering my scriptures.

"Strong doctrine rids Jesus of weak disciples." --Bruce R. McConkie

"Just as pondering the scriptures invites the Holy Ghost, so does daily pleading in prayer. He will rarely come, and without our petition He is not likely to linger." --Henry B. Eyring, General Conference Oct 1997

"Your only options are to trust yourself or God. Since you are already struggling, it only makes sense to turn to God." --Jacee Tidwell

Uncredited quotes (probably just me paraphrasing comments made in class):

"When you look at life through the power of your testimony, how different the choices we make become."

"Even if we do mess up in our lives, there's always a chance for us to become something great."

"Think like Christ would think, not like Emily would."

I....need....help....

There was a time when this blog was my escape. It was a haven for my thoughts and a place to tell my stories.

As time passed, my life changed so drastically I didn't even noticed, and before I knew it, it was today. And I'm a wife and mother.

The results of these changes are that my thoughts, previously so easy to organize and portray, are so jumbled. So mangled together. So much a result of the fatigue I feel from life.

I have so much to say. But because I can't type it all at the same time, none of it comes out.

This depresses me a little bit, and I am actively trying to discover a way for me to write the way I wish to write, despite my inability to face the flurry of thoughts in my head.

So seriously...if you have any suggestions, holler at your girl.

Scentsy is Good and Good for You

In case I haven't mentioned it before, you should know that Darren and I are totally selling and sharing Scentsy with the world.

What's that? You want to know more?

Don't mind if I do.

Scentsy Fragrance is a company that specializes in selling wickless candles that smell amazing. Among other things.

What I love most about it is that the products are beautiful and fun to use, the scent selection is endless, and the company itself is so cool.

Chevron is totally IN these days. Isn't that adorbs?

These are perfect in the bathroom

Darren and I have had so much fun with it so far. For instance, we worked our tails off and accomplished our 6 month sales goal IN THE FIRST 3 MONTHS. We've raised the bar for ourselves, and look forward to meeting and beating our future goals.

Roosevelt the Rabbit cares

Currently, Roosevelt the Rabbit, a Scentsy Buddy, is on sale for $30, and $6.50 will be donated to March of Dimes for every sale. Scentsy Buddies are pretty cool in that there is an opening in their backs where you can insert a scent pak (pictured below) so that your kiddos can have stuffed friends that smell good. Smell association is very strong in children, and a Scentsy Buddy would be especially useful for a child who frequently stays overnight away from home for whatever reason. Also, certain scents are known to help kids relax and sleep--those scents are available through Scentsy!

Supposedly Lavendar is the answer to all matters sleep related...

Then there are the bars....those sweet, delicious, sometimes awful smelling bars. You know how they say "There's someone for everyone?". The same goes for certain scents. There's someone for every scent! So whether you're into flowery smells, tropical smells, food smells, sensual smells, warm and homey smells, or rusic manly smells, we. have. got. you. covered.

"I smell like a hot guy."

"I smell like Victoria's Secret."

These are just a sampling of what is available through the company. There are so many more products, from lotion to laundry detergent. Love.

I personally invite you to host a party for us! (Please.....please....I promise you they are a blast!)

Don't think of standard direct sales parties. Mine are SUPER informal. Like, super.

If you've ever considered direct sales and are interested in working with a company that makes good on its promises and doesn't have a pushy work ethic, then I recommend Scentsy! Check it out and join our team!

Check out our website! scentsforcents.scentsy.us

What kind of Legacy Do I Want to Leave?

I've been thinking a lot about this over the last week since Kim passed away, and for all the times I've attempted to express it with the spoken word, I need to write it down. I can express myself so much better with writing.

First of all, when I got the news of her death I was absolutely shocked, just like everyone else. She was the best kind of person this world could know, and I saw her seriously, like, two weeks before. On a more selfish note, this is the first time in my life I have ever lost anyone I actually knew and cared about. I've never truly grieved a person till now, and I have to say that it isn't my favorite thing to do. I've been praying a lot.

Last Thursday I was asked to help clean up their home in preparation for Will's family to arrive. I'd never been further than the main living areas and hallway before this day, so I wasn't prepared to witness the scope of her homemaking. In my house, even if the front rooms are clean, the more private areas are more than certain to be trashed (most likely full of the stuff I crammed in there from the living room...). But Kim's home? Nope. Everything has a place. Every place has a purpose. Every room is made to be something and houses a spirit of homeyness. So much of her has been poured into those things which actually make her house a home. I'm sure her family felt the joy and delight, sweetness and safety of the space she created for them. Every room held evidence that her hands had been at work there, from the crafts and projects she'd made to the simple arrangements of decorations. I can't claim that she did this all by herself, but I think I can confidently say that she was the mastermind behind it all.

This quote sums up the effect her home had on me and the kind of woman she is:

There is no career more meaningful, no calling more divine, than being a person who truly makes a home in the sense of creating and maintaining an environment of human warmth, intellectual stimulation, and spiritual strength—someone who sees the wellsprings of personal meaning that lie beyond a first glance at a diaper, a frying pan, and a worn tennis shoe. Motherhood is above all a teaching task.--Sister Marie Hafen

The whole time I was there I couldn't stop admiring the home she'd made, and I also couldn't stop thinking of what people would think if they were to need to clean my house in my absence... they may as well just put a dumpster in the backyard and start loading 'er up. It all made me realize how incredibly little I have done to beautify our home. I've felt an urge, a tugging, to do more. I want to create a legacy that my husband and children will remember, that guests in our home will remember, and if something were to ever happen and I were to leave this earth, I hope that my home will speak to anyone who enters the way Kim's home spoke to me. The Spirit there is tangible, and the depths of her efforts evident.

To kickstart my new resolve I have begun the task of redoing roadside treasure furniture, part of which is matching nightstands. These will replace the flimsy little shelf on my side and the TV tray on Darren's side. I also bought a few packets of flower seeds today and will be preparing those for planting outside. I am slowly making progress with getting Emma's room where I want it to be (mostly focusing on wall hangings right now).

I never knew that a home beautified with love could be so powerful, and I'm grateful to find ways I can improve.

I'm a slacker

Oh my gooooooooooosh, I never thought I'd be one of those bloggers who, well, never blogged. I constantly think of posts I want to write, but when I actually have a minute I can never remember the things I want to write about. The few topics I do remember require more time than a few minutes can give me. Blerg!

One year

Emma turned 1 this past Sunday. I am having a hard time motivating myself to try to put into words all of my feelings on the matter, so I will simply say that I am in awe.  That girl inspires me.

Some pictures from the party:

 

This was taken on her actual birthday. I couldn't get a regular smiley
 picture, so I was happy to settle for her strawberry smirk ;)

I am very pleased with how everything turned out. I didn't have a ton of resources to work with, and I wanted to keep things simple (entertaining people socially is not my favorite thing). However, I also kind of wanted to set a standard for myself. You know, give myself something to beat with future parties and kids (if I should so desire to beat myself), but feel satisfaction that I didn't just give her a super lame-o party.

Points of pride:

• The homemade cake stand, which was clumsily connected off-centered. Boo for that. It sure is beautiful though!
• THE CAKE. IT WAS DELICIOUS. (My dad said if it were to receive a score it would be A+ ...and he's stingy with his foody compliments). I'm also happy with how it looks. Prettiest cake I've ever made!
• The micro-sized "happy birthday" banner. I just think it's cute. 
• The cradle Darren refinished. Nobody remembers where I got the cradle from, but I've had it as long as I can remember. At one point my sister Amanda and I spray painted it red, so Darren removed the paint and we stained it. I can't wait to watch her play with it. She's super adorbs playing with her doll. Mostly the crib serves as another place for her to deposit toys...she loves putting object in bowls and boxes. 

She continues to grow and develop in every aspect at an incredible rate. She is more grown up every day! However, she's also still so much a baby to me. I'm holding on to that as long as she'll let me. 

A short picture trip down Memory Lane

My computer is being ultra stupid right now and has prohibited proper use of the "Enter" key. Therefore, prepare to be blasted with pictures. I've spent the last month looking at all of her pictures since her birthday is Sunday (!!!!).                                                                                            

These two ARE my heart.

I don't even have words... so. much. perfection.

Can you handle the happy clapping face? Neither can I. Who taught her to be so cute?!

I miss my hair every time I look at this picture.

I want to kiss that sweet belly.

Throwback! This was my birthday a couple months after we started dating.

I want to kiss that mouth.

The first rays of sunshine after we got home from the hospital. AKA her first home jaundice treatment.

So small, soft, and fragile.

Gnawing on that frozen celery sure helps sooth the pain of teething!

Obviously there was something shocking in the book. I've made that face a few times myself.

I want to kiss that neck and chin. And mouth. And nose.

Milk drunk and hungover from shots (pun intended)

My favorite sleeping weirdo.

This picture has never actually been shared online. I love that it captures us though. For all his knuckledheadedness, he was such a strength to me. Labor hurts. 

Sharing a laugh with her friend in the book.