Truman likes to spend a lot of time on the computer playing letter-learning games and watching Thomas the Tank Engine/Bob the Builder/this crazy penguin named Pingu. This means I spend a lot of time with a second browser window open checking blogs and looking for decorating ideas, and even I'm getting sick of looking at my last post.
I'm restless lately. I feel like I should be getting ready to move, but I have nowhere to put packed boxes unless I want to squeeze around them for the next five weeks. I'm feeling anxious about the month of July, for a few reasons: one, it sounds hard trying to pack and move and be fixing up a house amid four reunions; two, because Truman has been waking up anywhere between 4:20 and 5:40 am (never later, mind you), ready for the day. It's one thing to plop him in front of a movie with some Cheerios at my own house, but when you're traveling and staying with someone else, you have fewer options. I may be spending a lot of early mornings outside...
My mom says I'm an "anticipator," as in I'm always expecting the worst. I like to think it's being prepared, but maybe I'm just being a sourpuss.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Best birthday ever...and ultrasound results
I really ought to go into more detail about the amazing day I had yesterday, but this little summary will have to suffice:
Matt got up with Truman at 5:30 am and announced that he wasn't going to work; instead he had arranged for a sitter (thanks, Amy!) so we could go to the Salt Lake Temple. My first time. What a glorious way to spend a birthday morning. Then I had a gyro for lunch. How could the day get any better, right? Like this:
During dessert that night, we got a call from our realtor. The counteroffer on the house we love (and put an offer on last Friday) was just what we'd hoped for, so for my birthday we...BOUGHT A HOUSE. Matt says he never has to get me another birthday gift since this one was so expensive.
Today, in what I consider an extension of birthday festivities, we had our 20-week ultrasound. The baby was very active the whole time, and the tech told us again and again how beautiful and well-formed the brain, heart, spine, legs...wait, what's that? That's definitely a BOY. I was shocked, and still am, but thrilled that Truman will be getting a little brother. We got a great shot of him sucking his fingers, and I'm already in love.
But I guess that purple nursery in the new house will have to go.
Matt got up with Truman at 5:30 am and announced that he wasn't going to work; instead he had arranged for a sitter (thanks, Amy!) so we could go to the Salt Lake Temple. My first time. What a glorious way to spend a birthday morning. Then I had a gyro for lunch. How could the day get any better, right? Like this:
During dessert that night, we got a call from our realtor. The counteroffer on the house we love (and put an offer on last Friday) was just what we'd hoped for, so for my birthday we...BOUGHT A HOUSE. Matt says he never has to get me another birthday gift since this one was so expensive.
Today, in what I consider an extension of birthday festivities, we had our 20-week ultrasound. The baby was very active the whole time, and the tech told us again and again how beautiful and well-formed the brain, heart, spine, legs...wait, what's that? That's definitely a BOY. I was shocked, and still am, but thrilled that Truman will be getting a little brother. We got a great shot of him sucking his fingers, and I'm already in love.
But I guess that purple nursery in the new house will have to go.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Mind Lost, Mind Regained
In a little twist on Milton's Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained, I found my temple recommend on Saturday. I knew that if I could just get into my mom's car and snoop around, I'd find it. Even though she had scoured the vehicle herself, I found the blessed little card in about ten seconds between two of the back seats. Turns out my mind isn't completely gone after all.
Another treasure regained this weekend: some measure of happiness in being a mother. Being the mommy has just felt like a grind for the last little while, especially with the weepiness and mood swings of pregnancy. But my sweet husband saw that I needed a break and asked my mother-in-law to watch Truman for us overnight as part of my Mother's Day gift. So on Saturday I slept in past six am, spent time with my favorite girlfriend in the world, and emerged feeling like I just might make it through Truman's toddlerhood. It's tough, this mother business, but I think that smelly little whiny creature is worth it.
And thanks, Matt, for seeing me through the insanity. And for those delicious crepes this morning...
Another treasure regained this weekend: some measure of happiness in being a mother. Being the mommy has just felt like a grind for the last little while, especially with the weepiness and mood swings of pregnancy. But my sweet husband saw that I needed a break and asked my mother-in-law to watch Truman for us overnight as part of my Mother's Day gift. So on Saturday I slept in past six am, spent time with my favorite girlfriend in the world, and emerged feeling like I just might make it through Truman's toddlerhood. It's tough, this mother business, but I think that smelly little whiny creature is worth it.
And thanks, Matt, for seeing me through the insanity. And for those delicious crepes this morning...
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Losing my mind for the second time around
For the three non-family members who read this blog (and therefore didn't already know), Matt and I are expecting again in October. And boy (or girl?) do I have some "pregnancy brain" moments to prove it:
Two weeks ago, I managed to leave my temple recommend in Denver...I think. I have no recollection of what happened to it after I went into the temple with my parents. It could still be inside for all I know, or in a shoe or a drawer or with the laundry. No memory whatsoever.
I was completely stressed about getting my library books back on time this week, but of course I forgot them the first time I went out to run errands. So I made a special trip and found that I was still minus one book when I got to the library. I thought about going back home again to get it (turns out it was under the couch, by the way), but then decided just to renew it using the library computers. I then proceeded to smack myself in the forehead repeatedly as I walked out the door for not just renewing them all - from home!
Yesterday on the way home from the grocery store, I missed my exit. I didn't even see it go by. I just happened to start looking around and thought, "Where am I?"
There are more where these came from, but my foggy brain can't recall them right now. I worry, though, that I am a danger to myself and others and maybe should be locked away for the next five to six months. And, depending on how this baby sleeps, the next five or six after that.
Two weeks ago, I managed to leave my temple recommend in Denver...I think. I have no recollection of what happened to it after I went into the temple with my parents. It could still be inside for all I know, or in a shoe or a drawer or with the laundry. No memory whatsoever.
I was completely stressed about getting my library books back on time this week, but of course I forgot them the first time I went out to run errands. So I made a special trip and found that I was still minus one book when I got to the library. I thought about going back home again to get it (turns out it was under the couch, by the way), but then decided just to renew it using the library computers. I then proceeded to smack myself in the forehead repeatedly as I walked out the door for not just renewing them all - from home!
Yesterday on the way home from the grocery store, I missed my exit. I didn't even see it go by. I just happened to start looking around and thought, "Where am I?"
There are more where these came from, but my foggy brain can't recall them right now. I worry, though, that I am a danger to myself and others and maybe should be locked away for the next five to six months. And, depending on how this baby sleeps, the next five or six after that.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
On Sippies and Spring
As expected, it's taken about a week - but that boy loves his Elmo sippies just as much as he ever did his bottle. In fact, we tended a little girl last night who came over with a bottle of chocolate milk, and I thought we were done for: Truman's eyes got big and he pointed insistently for a moment. After I got him a cup of chocolate milk himself though, he was content. Even while the little girl screamed and screamed for her parents...
By the way, many thanks to Adrienne for letting us have a straw sippy that was the only thing Truman would even take a second look at during those first few days.
In other news, is anyone else revelling in the glory of spring the way that I am today? The grass is suddenly green, mean March snow has turned to April showers, daffodils are standing proud and sunny in front yards all around the neighborhood, and the tree outside my front window is just beginning to flower. I can't get enough. Can't think of anything particular to blog about either, but I am grateful to feel, in general, good about life. Maybe it's because Greek Easter is this Sunday, and there's nothing like roasting a lamb on a spit in the yard with a bunch of drunk Greeks to make a girl feel like grinning. Happy Spring!
By the way, many thanks to Adrienne for letting us have a straw sippy that was the only thing Truman would even take a second look at during those first few days.
In other news, is anyone else revelling in the glory of spring the way that I am today? The grass is suddenly green, mean March snow has turned to April showers, daffodils are standing proud and sunny in front yards all around the neighborhood, and the tree outside my front window is just beginning to flower. I can't get enough. Can't think of anything particular to blog about either, but I am grateful to feel, in general, good about life. Maybe it's because Greek Easter is this Sunday, and there's nothing like roasting a lamb on a spit in the yard with a bunch of drunk Greeks to make a girl feel like grinning. Happy Spring!
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Bye bye ba-ba
I took Truman to the zoo with a friend and her little boy on Monday. As I do for every outing, I brought along Truman's Tigger bottle (the one and only receptacle out of which he will drink ANYTHING, by the way).
Somewhere between the monkeys and the giraffes, we lost the bottle nipple. This was quite a miracle considering that the bottle was in the side pocket of my bag, untouched, and the screw cap was still intact. Seems like the only place the thing could have gone was into the bottle itself, but alas - gone. (Maybe a sneaky monkey plucked it out?)
Anyway, Matt and I decided that fate was lending us a hand in doing what we've been meaning/needing/wanting to do for a while now: take away the ba-ba. Monday was, indeed, Truman's 20-month birthday, so it's about. stinking. time. Right?
That night he went down without a fight and slept a glorious eleven hours straight. This is going to be easy! He was so ready to give it up! we thought.
Yesterday and today have been...rougher. When presented with the selection of six or so sippy cups we own (I am trying to give the boy choices, after all), he picks up one at a time and throws it against the wall in frustration while wailing for "doose." Doesn't matter that I do put juice in the cups. Doesn't matter that two of them have Elmo on them. (P.S. Despite what they claim, sippy cups are not spillproof. You can imagine the state of my sofas and floor as I try to combat two days' worth of sippy tantrums...)
I know that eventually he will crack and start drinking (bad as THAT sounds!). My main concern at this point is that the bedtime routine has gone out the window; I used to rock him with a bottle until he was sleepy, but now he won't drink from anything AND he won't go near the rocking chair. Ah, and he woke up four times last night wanting a bottle. We are going to get through this, right?
Somewhere between the monkeys and the giraffes, we lost the bottle nipple. This was quite a miracle considering that the bottle was in the side pocket of my bag, untouched, and the screw cap was still intact. Seems like the only place the thing could have gone was into the bottle itself, but alas - gone. (Maybe a sneaky monkey plucked it out?)
Anyway, Matt and I decided that fate was lending us a hand in doing what we've been meaning/needing/wanting to do for a while now: take away the ba-ba. Monday was, indeed, Truman's 20-month birthday, so it's about. stinking. time. Right?
That night he went down without a fight and slept a glorious eleven hours straight. This is going to be easy! He was so ready to give it up! we thought.
Yesterday and today have been...rougher. When presented with the selection of six or so sippy cups we own (I am trying to give the boy choices, after all), he picks up one at a time and throws it against the wall in frustration while wailing for "doose." Doesn't matter that I do put juice in the cups. Doesn't matter that two of them have Elmo on them. (P.S. Despite what they claim, sippy cups are not spillproof. You can imagine the state of my sofas and floor as I try to combat two days' worth of sippy tantrums...)
I know that eventually he will crack and start drinking (bad as THAT sounds!). My main concern at this point is that the bedtime routine has gone out the window; I used to rock him with a bottle until he was sleepy, but now he won't drink from anything AND he won't go near the rocking chair. Ah, and he woke up four times last night wanting a bottle. We are going to get through this, right?
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Blessings of Being a Fat Kid
I've decided that growing up fat really had its advantages. I sure didn't think so at the time, but consider the post-chub blessings:
With the exception of my pregnancy with Truman, my weight has gone only one (general) direction since I was 15: down.
Even when I was nine months pregnant, I still weighed about 25 pounds less than my heaviest in high school. True story. By middle school standards, I was svelt!
I didn't get acne until after I lost the weight (and you're thinking, "Huh?"). I'm pretty sure Heavenly Father decided it would be just too much for one girl to be overweight and have braces, glasses, unruly curly hair (with bangs!) AND acne all at the same time. I still can't quite shake the acne though...
No post-baby hysteria about the way my body looked, at least not really; stretch marks? Had those already. Saggy skin? Check. Flabby abs? My best friends. It was like I'd already had a baby before I had one. A big, slowly-delivered, 60-pound baby.
My parents didn't have to worry about my breaking curfew or question my morality until I was almost out of the house, because I wasn't getting asked out on dates until then! I'm not being tongue-in-cheek at all here; it really was a blessing for all of us...in the long run.
On the serious side, I think having a problem that was so visible and easily-mocked all my life made me a more compassionate person. Plus I tried harder to develop my social skills and my brain to compensate for what I felt like I lacked physically.
Most importantly, those years taught me an appreciation for my body no matter its size. I really had to learn to accept and acknowledge qualities that made me beautiful on the inside until eventually I felt beautiful on the outside. I had to be willing to accept where I was - and the frightening thought that I might always be that way - before I could move on and change it.
With the exception of my pregnancy with Truman, my weight has gone only one (general) direction since I was 15: down.
Even when I was nine months pregnant, I still weighed about 25 pounds less than my heaviest in high school. True story. By middle school standards, I was svelt!
I didn't get acne until after I lost the weight (and you're thinking, "Huh?"). I'm pretty sure Heavenly Father decided it would be just too much for one girl to be overweight and have braces, glasses, unruly curly hair (with bangs!) AND acne all at the same time. I still can't quite shake the acne though...
No post-baby hysteria about the way my body looked, at least not really; stretch marks? Had those already. Saggy skin? Check. Flabby abs? My best friends. It was like I'd already had a baby before I had one. A big, slowly-delivered, 60-pound baby.
My parents didn't have to worry about my breaking curfew or question my morality until I was almost out of the house, because I wasn't getting asked out on dates until then! I'm not being tongue-in-cheek at all here; it really was a blessing for all of us...in the long run.
On the serious side, I think having a problem that was so visible and easily-mocked all my life made me a more compassionate person. Plus I tried harder to develop my social skills and my brain to compensate for what I felt like I lacked physically.
Most importantly, those years taught me an appreciation for my body no matter its size. I really had to learn to accept and acknowledge qualities that made me beautiful on the inside until eventually I felt beautiful on the outside. I had to be willing to accept where I was - and the frightening thought that I might always be that way - before I could move on and change it.
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