As Good As It Gets

There comes a point in every day where I declare that I am as ready as I'm getting.

The timing for this declaration is a bit tricky, because while it takes me all day to get ready, my looks also start to deteriorate as soon as I start rolling around on the floor with Tommy. There is a tiny moment where I look as good as I'm gonna look, and I'm constantly trying to declare myself "ready" at that exact moment.

But there are some (err....plenty) days in which I just have to give it up and realize that while it's not the best I've looked, it's going to have to do for the day. I'm really not going to get around to getting "ready" at all.

Today that moment is now (11:20) and it is because someone from church is coming to my home to pick up a key. So, I changed out of my pajamas, pulled my hair back in a ponytail, threw on Josh's redbox hat and admitted that I'm really not getting ready today.

Without that call, I probably wouldn't have figured it out until 5 when Josh comes home and I was still in my pajamas.

I Know it by Heart

For Christmas this year Santa brought Beauty & the Beast to Josh.

He made this face when he opened it, and yes that's real, not staged. Seriously.

If I thought he'd be embarrassed about me announcing his love of a Disney Princess movie, I wouldn't post it, but I'm pretty sure he's proud of it. So don't judge me. 

ANYway, yesterday with sickie sickie Tommy, I thought we should watch it. Rather, I thought he should watch it, and I should put away all the Christmas crap which has been driving me crazy!. He thought we should watch it together.
He won.
Mostly.

Turns out that I have the complete movie memorized. Seriously.

I think it's because my 4th grade class performed the play. Charles Donaldson was Belle's crazy father, and every time that guy has a line, I hear Charles' voice in my head instead of the Disney guy's voice. That means something about his performance right? He was incredible. Do you think that Charles Donaldson will ever google himself and wind up at this post? Just in case: Hi Charles! Long time no see! 

I was the rose. And the narrator. (I shared the part of rose/narrator with someone else and we took turns being each part.) What that means is that on "rose" night I wore green tights and a green leotard and a flower thing on my head (thank you Anne Geddes). And my big scene was plucking the last petal and dramatically dropping it to the ground.

Now I don't know if you remember 4th grade or not....but probably you don't remember me in 4th grade. For a woman of my stature 4th grade is an awkward time. I was lumpy in all the wrong places and wearing a leotard and tights seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. Fortunately digital photography did not exist yet, and my mom was not nearly as camera-happy as I am. (Thanks mom!)

On the flip side as the narrator I got to wear my prettiest pink dress. I remember standing in front of the mirror at home before the big performance admiring my dress. This was the equivalent of Prom in my eyes and I was going to be the most beautiful narrator there was. I. Looked. Fabulous.

So here's the moral of the story: Sometimes in life you gotta be the awkward, lumpy, oversized rose in a green leotard and tights. Other times in life you get to be the prettiest, pinkest, ruffliest narrator there ever was.

I choose to stand in front of the mirror on pretty, pink, ruffly days.

Change of Plans (again)

Remember how before Josh told The Boss that he couldn't work full time he asked The Boss if there was any possibility of him going part-time? And remember how The Boss said "no. they won't let us have a part-time you"? Well, that's what happened.

So when Josh told The Boss that he couldn't do both and he'd be quitting before the semester The Boss said "We'll really miss you because you're such a great guy" which is always nice to hear. But then last week The Boss said "Listen. We need you. We can't replace you (hiring freeze) and wondered if you'd be willing to stay on at least until you get your bonus (in February/March) at just 30 hours/week which you can work anytime day or night and you won't be on call except on the weekends, plus you get to keep your benefits, car, and position if you decide to work between semesters."

Josh thought about it.

I thought about it.

We talked about it.

And yesterday he accepted that offer - on the condition that he doesn't have to work during the first 2 weeks of the semester which are hell-weeks orientation weeks and he can quit anytime he wants if they're killing him.

If I'm being 100% honest I'm relieved beyond belief. I'm thrilled because it looks doable even with 4-6 hours of study time every day. I'm stoked that they love Josh that much because they're pretty much bending over backward to keep him. I'm excited that he thinks he can do it. I'm certain that offers like this only come when you put in 5 years of being an excellent employee and PAY YOUR TITHING. And I'm terrified that it's going to send him over the edge.

This semester has been rough on him (and me by extension) and I'm afraid that it's going to do him in. I know that he can put in long days, but if he fries his brain over a DVD rental, I will cry.

So I'm terrified. And relieved. And I'm not doing backflips so that he knows if it's horrible he can quit.

So yay hooray! Prayers answered. Decision made. And all social plans currently put on hold.

Sick sick sick

Tommy's never really been sick, he takes his shots like a champ and has never even had a bad cold. He's just been a very healthy (and dare I say, easy, baby).

Don't get me wrong, he has a set of lungs and he's not afraid to use them. Anybody over the age of 25 who has tried to take him from me can vouch for that. He also has preferences, but for the most part he's a happy child who adjusts well to things.

So on Christmas Eve when he started vomiting uncontrollably in the back of the car, this mom was heartbroken. While Daddy held him out in the cold air with his puke soaked jammies, this mom just wanted to snuggle up with him, puke and all because it seemed less heartbreaking that way.

So we took him back to my mom's house and threw the gross stuff in the washing machine, and the cute stuff (aka Tommy) in the bathtub, and he calmed down and seemed to be OK.

He slept through the entire ride home, including the midnight stop at Walgreens for Pedialyte. Christmas day we were very careful to keep him on the BRAT diet, and watched him closely, but he seemed fine - just a bit sleepy which made sense given his disrupted sleep schedule.

Yesterday we took him to the Dr. for his "I'm about to be uninsured checkup" where he showed off and played with all the toys and acted just fine. He cried for roughly 2 seconds "That Mean Lady" gave him his shots, but was otherwise completely happy. He was a bit more cuddly than normal, but again I chalked it up to excessive tiredness.

The well child visit was great - his weight jumped up so much that I'm a little concerned (4th to 15th percentile) but Dr. Lady says he's just fine so I'm currently chilling out. I suppose if I'm being honest my real concern is over my own weight jump and our extraordinarily lazy habits these days.

This morning he woke up in a pile of puke again. Poor baby was covered in pretty much everything he ate yesterday. Poor daddy almost lost his breakfast due to the putrid odor.

He's weepy and clingy and tired and his eyes are red and his breath stinks and his tummy is boycotting anything resembling real food.

Being sick really sucks, but Bubbah being sick is 20 times worse.

Death of a Snowman

A new tradition was born in our family this year. I'm naming it "Death of a Snowman" but normal people would call it a pinata.

Only one child hates the new tradition and that child belongs to me. He wept while the other children beat the snowman mercilessly.

Everybody took turns (starting with the youngest grandchild) and that pinata was stuffed so full that everybody got at least 4 or 5 turns.

The kids did a pretty good job.

Ryann whacking the snowman.

Garret showing it who's boss.

 But then we had to bring in the big guns.

Gramma getting ready for the perfect pitch.

Randy stabs the snowman.

Josh was thrilled that he was chosen to be master of the pinata.

And of course once Tommy got the goods, he was totally fine with the new game.

A Breath of Fresh Air

The last few months around here have been.....stressful, anxiety-inducing, painful, awkward and exhausting - almost suffocatingly so.

In the middle of a meltdown last week I told Josh that this was probably going to be the worst Christmas of my life. He took that to mean he should tell me stories about anything that ever went wrong on Christmas in his life. ("There was this one time that time when Dad said if we couldn't stop fighting nobody was going to open presents and he TOOK. THEM. AWAY!!" [insert horrific gasp here]) He was appalled when I told him this Christmas put that Christmas to shame because a completely sucky life is significantly more depressing than having to wait to open your presents.

Maybe my low expectations are the reason that the last 2 days have felt like a very refreshing breathe of fresh air, it felt like everything that could possibly go right did, and it felt like all the aspects of our completely sucky life just vanished for a little while.

We gave (mostly) great gifts, we received more than we could ever dream of needing, and most importantly we played with our family and did nothing but make wonderful memories. Somehow everything was just plain beautiful.

On our way home tonight I asked Josh what his favorite part of Christmas was. He said something about being happy and what a relief that was. And I had to agree. These 48 hours have been exactly the calming peaceful break from reality that I have so desperately wanted. They have been a breath of fresh air.

Here's hoping I don't have to wait another year to feel like my lungs are full again.

Not as I thought

There are all these moments that I have planned in my head. I know how it will be and I can't wait for it to go down exactly according to plan.

Everything was going well last night, we celebrated with my family doing all the wonderful traditions and were on our way home when the puking started.

An hour later we were headed for home again - while googling places that were still open at 11pm on Christmas Eve because we needed pedialyte for our sick little one.

In case you wondered, Walgreens is open until midnight on Christmas Eve, nowhere else is. Don't even try.

As a result of the late night, Tommy slept until well after 8. (Heavenly!) Which means that instead of Tommy being awake and anxiously waiting for his parents to get him out of bed, his parents were anxiously waiting for him to wake up so we could get this party started!

Instead of sharing a big beautiful breakfast, Tommy is sticking to the BRAT diet and we learned that he doesn't like toast.

Instead of him going crazy and tearing the wrapping paper off everything in sight, he was totally satisfied when he had a fist full of nuts from his stocking. He had no need to open anything else.

Instead of heading to Josh's mom's by 10am, we're still thinking about getting ready for the day at 11.

Instead of a quiet morning sitting by the glow of the Christmas tree in the dark, we turned on the party tunes, danced and opened all the blinds to let the morning sun in.

Instead of Tommy sporting his brand new Christmas jammies in all the morning photos, he's dressed in his cousin's skeleton jammies because they were dry and that's better than wet.

The last 12 hours have been far from what I expected or planned, but they've been every bit as beautiful as I imagined. Here's hoping the next 12 hours go just as well.

Tommy Goes To Temple Square

On Monday I dragged us all downtown and proceeded to insist that we HAVE FUN RIGHT NOW!!!

While I won't say it was the best night ever (it sortof sucked.....) the pictures would suggest otherwise.

Tommy started off in the stroller - no problem. Properly bundled and ready for action.

That lasted almost 3 minutes, and he was ready to get out and move.

Until he was tired and needed a ride.

At which point playing in the water seemed like a good idea. And it was. Tommy was happier playing in the freezing water than at any other point during the evening.

The lights were breathtaking. All the grounds workers really outdid themselves this year.

We (Josh) stopped a stranger and asked her to take our picture. I'm too chicken to do that, but I'm glad Josh isn't. Look how cute we are!

Tommy would cry and cry and cry until Josh showed him something cool. "Look at these lights Tommy! Lookit how they shine!" he'd say.

I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to touch the lights, but Tommy can get away with pretty much anything these days.

"Here come the Shepherds" explains dad "they want to see the baby Jesus. We want to see it too, but there are too many people over there, so we'll just look at the Shepherds instead. Okay?"

We spent the majority of the evening chasing Tommy around and arguing about how to properly "do" the lights. It has since been brought to my attention that because I am "tightly wound" I ruined the evening and it was nobody's fault but my own. I still say my plan was better....but the boys seemed to have more fun, so I suppose they did it right.

After the lights I stormed off to Maverik in search of a donut so I could eat donuts, drink hot chocolate, watch a Christmas movie and pretend the evening was a successful celebration of Christmas.

And for those of you who haven't yet seen Tommy's mad walking skills - check him out at the Joseph Smith Building! My baby's a genius right?

Kurt Bestor Concert

When Meleta calls and asks if you're available on [insert date here] you should probably say "yes!" and then get that way, because what happens on [insert date here] is a party. 

First we ate at Tucanos. While this happens to be my own personal worst nightmare (people wandering around with gigantic hunks of meat on sticks and sharing with everyone EWWWW!!!!!) it was positively wonderful. Plus they have a totally awesome salad bar and the world's best grilled pineapple, so I was set. 

Also, the dudes dig the meat. So...ya know.....

Then we went to Kurt Bestor where we sat a safe distance away from the front row (where you get called on to do stuff), but still close enough to notice how much Kurt sweats when he's really into it. The perfect seats. 

We parked 5 blocks away and walked to the concert in the cold wintery downtown goodness. I miss living there. I miss parking 5 blocks away from your goal. And I really really miss sharing a coat pocket with Josh because everybody's hands are warmer that way. 

If you lived here, here's what you'd hear (and see).

Me: "Hey, while you are both still handsome, can I take a picture of you by the Christmas tree?"
Josh: "Yeah. Hold on while I pose."
[poses]
Josh: "OK, go."

 Me: "OK now can you get handsome again for a real picture?"
Tommy: "aaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!" (or loosely translated: "Daddy's tickling me and I can'tstoplaughingandIcan'tholdstillandhewon'tletgo!!!!!!")
Josh: "See? I'm making him smile."

Me: "Just one. Please can I have just one?"
Josh: "OK, OK." (hangs his head in defeat)

Camera: "overload - OVERLOAD!!!! DOES NOT COMPUTE."
Tommy: "ahhhhhh ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!!"
Josh:

Me: "Fine, you're not that handsome anyway." (hangs head in defeat.)

Dear Dana,

Remember last night when Tommy wouldn't pipe down or be reverent even for five minutes of the musical fireside? Remember how I took him out no less than 10 times in the period of 40 minutes?

That totally sucked and it's my bad for bringing him to ANOTHER hour of church after his bedtime, but we really wanted to go.

So thanks for not giving us crusties (like the people in front of us) or hating our guts (like the people next to us) for being so irreverent and instead just laughing when you caught Josh eating Tommy's wagon wheels. That made us feel a lot better.

Thanks,
Amy

PS Also, thanks for playing peekaboo from across the aisle, those 2 minutes were his reverentest.

Holding Hands

I let Tommy have a part of a cookie for a snack today, and he wouldn't let those last few crumbs go for anything in the world.

He walked around like this for 20 mintues before I finally pried his hands apart and took the cookie-crumbs.

The kid knows when he has a good thing...

Tommy walks part 549

He has now graduated from the Drunken Frankenstein walk, to the Bow-Legged Cowboy Stomp.

Just thought you should know.

Christmas Concert

Last night we used the free tickets Josh scored for the Eclipse concert. Sometimes they melt your heart with songs like Lullaby

and other times they rap. Like this:

Maybe you can't see it - but I swear this guy is percussioning hard enough to blow his own head off. I seriously thought he was going to pass out in the middle of the concert. He was incredible.

These are some cool dudes.

Either way, there's nothing like a great concert to get you in the Christmas mood and out of the Bah Humbug mood. 

See? Merry Christmas, from the Egberts. Pretend that's a Christmas card in your mailbox, OK?

Plus Greg & Eva were kind enough to join us!

Just what we needed as a finals recovery/Christmas is coming kick off to the weekend. 

As an added bonus Tommy stayed up playing with Grandma & Grandpa (who can blame him, we'd rather play than sleep when we're there too) until 11 so he also slept until 7:30 this morning. I was secretly hoping he'd sleep until noon - but I'll take the extra 30 minutes anytime I can get them. 

Ready for the Holiday

Now that school is officially out, and we have a weekend (starting today) jam packed with festive events, I am officially ready to declare the Holiday Season here.

Bring it on Christmas 2010.

Leaping in Faith

At the beginning of this semester we had no idea how we were going to pay for school. We had been denied any financial aid from the government, we had a bit of money locked in savings that we didn't feel like we could use and tuition was due within the first week of school.

Money had been tight since I stopped working and Tommy started eating and pooping cold hard cash. Josh had books, supplies, fees and tuition to pay for all of which would cost us a significant sum.

He was going to continue working through the semester, which meant a lot of long days and not being the best at anything.

But, we felt like he needed to be in school, so he registered and figured that some way, some how we'd be able to pay for it. So, we paid our tithing and moved on.

2 days before school started we still had no idea how we were going to pay for it, but we had faith and 7 days to make it happen.

The day before classes he got a large sum of money from an anonymous donor who wanted to help out. Then he got a notice from the financial aid office that said they were going to give him a grant and a loan for another large sum of money. Then he had a few people schedule massages and he was able to earn a bit more money.

Seriously.

Money just started showing up in our mailbox. Faster than we could deposit it.

And suddenly tuition and fees were paid, books and supplies were purchased, and we were going to survive the semester.

If you don't believe in it, I know this will sound crazy, but because we paid our tithing all these things worked out and we were also able to pay for school.

Having leaped in faith before, I know that although Josh won't be working this semester, and I won't be leaving the home to work, and we'll have nowhere near enough money coming in, we'll be OK. Because I've leaped before.

snow wrecker

I love waking up to a fresh blanket of snow.

I especially love being the first person to wake up to it. Because it's still untouched and beautiful and whole.

I also especially love it when the road hasn't even been plowed yet, so you can't tell where the grass ends and the street begins. I love that.

Yesterday I trekked through my 3 of my neighbors' beautifully perfectly snowed yards because I'm too lazy to take the unplowed road and prefer to traipse through the "common area" which is really someone's yard.

Then I felt guilty for wrecking their beautiful snow view.

Sorry neighbors. I probably won't do it again until it snows again.

WAAAAA-HOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

For all of my readers currently in China, I'll bet you could barely hear my shout of joy this afternoon.

It was because Josh took his last final (KILLED it!) and has officially passed all of his classes this semester!!!!!!

I've never been so scared that it may not happen, and I've probably never been so happy for any semester ever in the history of school to be over.

Happy day happy day!

One thing I love about storing other people's presents under our tree

One thing I love about storing other people's presents under our tree is that when Tommy unwraps them every week, he isn't spoiling his own Christmas morning surprise - he's simply making it so everyone gets presents wrapped in a patchwork quilt pattern.

Walking

Yeah - Tommy does that now.

We've passed the "I'll take two steps just so you'll pick me up and kiss me" phase and now we're in the "I'll take as many steps as it requires to get over there where all the good stuff is" phase.

Please ignore the close up of somebody's face on the tv behind the adorable child, and just notice how adorable the child is. OK?

He also does this thing where he loads up his fire truck with all the important stuff he might need on his journey to the bathroom and pushes it over to the bathroom door. One time (okay, two times) the door wasn't fully closed and he helped himself to the magic of our restroom.

"Lovey bear" is a mandatory passenger for all journeys over 4 steps.

He threw fingernail polish into the toilet, unraveled a complete roll of toilet paper (pre-pulled-paper grosses me out almost as much as ABC gum), and discovered that although banging on the lid of the toilet is fun, swishing in the water is much more fun.

Who is this child's mother?

Every Sunday

Every Sunday the alarm goes off at 6 and the marathon begins.

Most Sundays Josh gets Tommy ready for church, which means that he digs out a "new" pair of shoes every 7 days. Apparently the rule at our house is that if Dad's feet don't fit in them, Tommy's feet do. Nevermind the fact that we just inherited these shoes from Tommy's cousin who is 2 years his senior.

We pack snacks and toys in our bag for the children on the pews surrounding ours - because heaven forbid Tommy play with his own toys.

I make sure that there are enough wipes to scrape goldfish paste off the hymnal, the benches, the floor, the face, and the shoes. Travel wipe cases really should come in "church" sizes so I don't have to bring 2 anymore.

I think that church is Tommy's favorite place because he's allowed to flirt from afar. He has at least 6 different women ages 2 months to 26 years flirting back with him across the room. But the second anybody gets close enough to see the whites of his eyes, all bets are off and his stranger-danger screech comes out full force.

My favorite part of church today was when Stella and Tommy were running laps between the Medinas (Stella's family) and us. At some point Tommy lost a shoe (amazing since his toes didn't even pass the ankle-hole) but didn't stop doing his laps. Stella stopped and dutifully came over to pick up Tommy's shoe, carried it over to Junior and stood there staring at him until he put it back on Tommy so the fun could begin again. Meanwhile the speaker is sharing his very powerful (and not at all funny) testimony and Josh and I are sitting on the front row giggling like the 14 year olds we really are on the inside while Junior dresses our child in shoes that nearly touch his nose.

The good news about church is that Tommy's learning how to share. He shoved 4 or 5 goldfish in Stella's mouth before yanking them back out and swallowing them whole. She never even realized he took them back. That's improvement. As my little brother would say "it's all about the delta".

At one point Josh leaned over to me and asked me to remind him why we come to church. I rattled off all the right reasons, but after spending the next hour chasing him through the halls, and the 3rd hour watching Josh chase him through the halls, I have to wonder myself.

After church we headed to Utah county for dinner with my family. Tommy fell asleep on the way there, so we all sat in the car on the street outside my mom's house for 45 minutes waiting for him to wake up. Remember when we used to sit in the car outside the house because we wanted just a few more minutes together before we had to go home? This was not the same as that. Josh fell asleep with his mouth hanging open, Tommy was slumped in a sweaty pile strapped to a car seat and I sat in the front seat reading and listening to old lady music. Our 21-year-old selves were somewhere watching....laughing at us. Our 21-year-old selves are rude.

Dear Santa

It seems clear to me who should be getting their wish list and who should be getting a lump of coal. OK?

Love,
Amy

If this blog were a magazine: The Quiz

When you know you'll soon have no car and no money you:

a) take every opportunity to go do things while you still can. This time is short.
b) get used to being stranded and broke. Practice by not going grocery shopping. Ever.
c) spend all of your time daydreaming and building your dream car and house online.

Merry Christmas

What?

You keep your ornaments on the tree?



That is SOOO 2009.

Change

Josh has worked for Redbox since before we were married. He took the job so we could have insurance and he could have a steady paycheck (2 important things when you stop being your parents' child and start being your wife's husband).

Now Josh is going to school and although he's been able to work full-time and do school full-time this semester, he won't be able to do that next semester. So he has given his notice at work.

As of January 7th he will be unemployed and a full time student.

The last time that happened to him, he was 13.

It's a little scary when the primary income vanishes, and to be honest I have no idea yet what we'll do. We'll have no health insurance, 1 less vehicle, and my sporadic (at best) income to replace his good stable job. It will be an adjustment.

Adjustment doesn't quite seem like a strong enough word...but I suppose we have no choice but to do just that. Adjust.

We'll apply for financial aid, and we'll live off our savings as long as we can. In the meantime all we can do is pay our tithing and trust.

What do you do when your income stops and your bills don't?

freedom: a fine line

Once Tommy was interested in touching everything he could and 99% of the things he couldn't see, I started to decide what was really not OK for him to be into and what really was OK.

Under the kitchen sink? Chemicals? Garbage? Not OK.

The poison-dirt from all the houseplants? In your dreams.

Pretty much everything else? OK.

Pots and pans and shiny utensils? Fine by me.

Dish clothes & hand towels? Go nuts.

Measuring cups & spoons? Ladels? Spatulas? Whatever does it for you dude.

Christmas tree? At $2/24 ornaments I'm OK if he eats them.

Phone chargers, DVDs, monitors, remotes, books, laundry and furniture? Sure, whatever.

But then Josh comes home.

I'm significantly less uptight than expected to be (is anyone else surprised by that? No? Just me? OK.) but now I'm wondering if I've gone too far. My child apparently thinks that anything he reach is a toy. And that's because at my house IT'S TRUE.

On the rare occasion that Josh is home and Tommy is still awake and playing, Josh keeps him out of everything. "No no no no Tommy. That's not a toy." He gently reminds him while he pulls him away. "Don't touch." He says trying to distract him with a genuine kid thing.

I tap Josh on the shoulder and in a very mousy voice say "Uhhh.....actually he thinks the measuring spoons are the best toy there is, and I've never ever taken the stack of DVDs away from him...."

I just figure if he can't hurt it or him with it, I'm not going to bother. Lazy parenting? Probably. But I like to think it's teaching him that he's allowed to explore his environment - as long as it's reasonably safe.

Josh, however, thinks that it's important to teach him the concept of "don't touch" and the sooner the better.

How much freedom do your kids have in your house? And what if you go somewhere else? Is it impossible to teach them not to touch everything in someone else's home if you don't teach them how not to touch in your own home?

self sufficient

About a month ago I started keeping Tommy's milk-sippy in the bottom bin of the door because he likes to pull stuff out of the fridge and I figured I'd care less about it if he was pulling something he was allowed to have.

This morning Tommy and I were reading a cookie monster book. There was a picture of milk, so I pointed to it and said "milk" he signed "milk" to me and crawled over to the fridge to bang on the door.

I opened the fridge door and he grabbed his sippy, took a gigantic swig and put it back on the shelf.

I know it doesn't really count as self sufficient, but it's still just about the cutest thing I've ever seen and it's certainly improvement. I mean, last year at this time he could almost hold his own head up.

A long week.

Wednesday morning I woke up not feeling very well, but I got up, went to the gym anyway, sat my butt on the recumbent bike and put in my time with Jess. I suspected the "not feeling well" was simply because I started taking a blood sugar medication.

I came home and spent the rest of the day on the couch.

Thursday repeat - but I didn't manage to make it to the bike.

Friday repeat - but I didn't manage to make it to the the couch.

Friday night I puked 9 times in 12 hours. Josh hid my pills.

Saturday repeat - without the getting up. Seriously. I think I was in and out of sleep all day long, I didn't eat anything, and I never did get out of my pajamas.

Sunday repeat - add the couch back in.

Poor Tommy has been more than a bit neglected for the past few days. You'd be horrified if you saw the things I didn't do for him.

Fortunately (for both of us) Josh thinks we're important and spent a lot of time at home nursing me back to health and making sure Tommy didn't starve or kill himself.

Today I'm feeling almost back to normal and I think Tommy is having Mommy overload. We read stories, played with toys and giggled until neither of us could breathe. I let him help with the laundry and

I think he's probably scared of the new psycho-crazed attention-giving mommy, but whatever. He'll love me again in a few minutes.

One thing I love about a gray sky morning

One thing I love about a gray sky morning is that Tommy doesn't realize it's morning until nearly 8am.

I could list a million other things I love about a gray sky morning, but that's not the title of this post....maybe another time.

Primary Care Giver

Sometimes I wonder what they would think if all the people who are kind enough to watch my child on a semi-regular and all-too-frequent basis, realized how often someone other than me or Josh has Tommy.  I make an effort to spread them out enough that no one person thinks "she's NEVER home with her child where she belongs!" but if you put all of those people in one room I wonder what they'd say.

"You had him Tuesday night? I had him Tuesday morning!"
"And I hate him Wednesday afternoon!"
"Does she ever take care of her own child?"

Fortunately these are people who are kind and supportive and not judgmental, so I'm sure they wouldn't hate me for it, but I wonder if they'd be surprised.

But then I realize that most of the time (defined: more than 50%) I'm home with Tommy. He knows who I am better than anybody else. I change more diapers and prepare more meals. I know his favorite (and least-favorite) things.

So even though I feel like I spend all my time trying to figure out who will take him next, I realize that if I were filling out a form, the only reasonable response to the primary care giver question is me!

And there were a lot of days that I longed to be able to say just that.

So on the days I hate to drop my child off with someone else, and the days that I hate that I don't get to spend my whole day momming, and the days that I simply don't think it's fair that I have other responsibilities, and even the days that I wish Josh would be the mom for a while, it's good to remember how much I love being a mom.

And that most of the time, I get to do just that.

heads up 7-up: the online version

Apparently lifting my head above my shoulders is unacceptable behavior (as documented by the fact that I get dizzy and fall over every time I do it).

And so, I'd like to start a rousing online game of heads-up 7-up.

But only the part where the teacher says "heads down! thumbs up."

The rest of it doesn't sound like that much fun.

A request

"Please sir....I want some mo'ah."

If a boy this cute handed you a beater, what would you do with it?

I Accidentally Woke Up....and Other Sad Stories

It's all Josh's fault really - he slept on the wrong side of the bed because I'd "had it up to HERE with this day!" and he was still doing homework.

So when the alarm went off, he asked "snooze or off" and I picked snooze.

When it went off again 2 minutes later, I got up. Went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, got dressed and sat down in front of the computer to put my shoes on.

Then I checked the clock to see how late I was.

Negative 25 minutes.

Apparently Josh set HIS alarm for 5 and I set mine for 5:25, only I woke up with his alarm and he has yet to wake up to my alarm.

Why don't I just go back to bed? Because my shoes are on and my mouth is minty fresh.

Also my dishes aren't clean and my toenails aren't properly polished.

I think it's going to be a sad day, because I literally woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

Bubbah and Grandpa Reilley

I've heard that musical talent skips a generation.

Technically Tommy has exactly zero of Grandpa Reilley's genetic makeup. But I swear Josh inherited so many of his "dad's" qualities it's scary.

I think it's fair to assume we have a concert pianist on our hands. Agreed?

Here comes the snow do do do do dooo

It started early this morning,
Which is why I was grateful when Josh snuck outside and scraped/warmed the car while I did my hair.

It continued through my morning meeting,
Which is why I did one tiny little donut in the church parking lot before it was full.

It didn't slow down during church,
Which is why Bubbah sputtered and gasped all the way out to the car.

It kept up during the drive to Kearns,
Which is why I sunk knee deep when I tromped across Misty's front lawn.

It froze to the road on the way home,
Which is why Josh never went more than 40 mph on the freeway.

It has officially covered the neighborhood in the most beautiful blanket of white there ever was.
Which is why I'm drinking hot chocolate and listening to Christmas songs by my tree.

Magical Moments

I've always planned on being a mother, so I've been imagining some specific moments in my life as a mother since I was a little girl. (Pathic? Probably. True? Definitely.)

It's mostly the simple things - things I've seen my mom (and other moms) do.
A child balanced on his mother's hip, while something is cooking on the stove and the phone balanced in the crook of her neck with the cord wrapped around her.
Walking the halls at church while the little one holds the fingers of the mom.
A toddler comes crying to his mother because of a skinned knee, and she crouches down as he runs into her arms.
A mom brushes her little boy's hair out of his eyes, and kisses his forehead and whispers that she loves him.
A baby snuggles into his mother's chest while she gently rocks him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
A giant gangly teenage man-child throws his arm around his mother's shoulder and she holds him up, because no matter how big he gets, she can always hold him up.

But then there are the big moments.
The first day of school.
The birthday cake.
The wedding day.
The riding of the bike.
The newborn midnight feedings.

I'll admit that I have (and probably will continue to) intentionally set the stage so I can have some moments worth remembering.

When I look back at midnight feedings, I get to remember sitting in my rocking chair, looking up through the closed blinds at the moon while my little one sleeps sweetly in my arms and the lullabyes and smells of baby powder surround us. That's because I staged that moment and burned it in my memory forever. I use baby powder because it smells good. I put the rocking chair where I could gaze up at the stars at night. I turned on the music because I wanted to remember it. So it might be lame, but I want some of those moments to be exactly as I imagined them. And some of them are.

Yesterday it was the first real steps. Not the ish steps. The straight out of a movie, from mom to dad, with the Christmas tree glowing in the background, two wobbly steps and a fall forward into the arms of the parent steps. Those steps.

The. First. Steps.

If I had a camera crew and a stylist and a designer in my home, it wouldn't have been more perfect. But you'll never know that because I don't have any of those things. Which is probably what it was perfect.

There were toys and clutter all around us. The tv was on. The mom looked as frumpy as she gets and the dad was wearing a scary beanie* and a hoodie.

Tommy had taken a step toward me earlier in the day, so when Josh was ready for a 5 minute break from homework, we were happy to sit across from each other and play "walk baby walk!" And baby walked.
On purpose.
Intentionally.
He stood.
He thought about it.
He looked at dad.
He put one foot in front of the other and took deliberate steps.
Then we turned him around and he walked toward me.
Back and forth, he humored us for maybe 5 or 6 laps before he decided that sitting is cooler.

Each time he fell into our arms we scooped him up and laughed and clapped and kissed him senseless.

There has never been anything so beautiful. Ever.

I'm sorry you missed it.

*Bubbah is terrified of hats. Josh is wearing a beanie because apparently 68 is freakin' cold indoors. Tommy spent a solid 15 minutes crying every time he looked at Josh, then he removed the hat and put it on me and I was suddenly the terrifying parent.

Christmas movies (and a CSN review)

Someday we may have to spring for a new tv tables like the ones CSN offers, but it would take a whole lot of review offers to work up to a $300 piece of furniture. In the meantime they're kind enough to let me do a review of something less costly, and you'll get to hear all about it soon. Perhaps when we're not paying tuition anymore we can spend our own money on extravagant items like furniture.

In the meantime, we have limited Tommy's asleep and we're awake moments, further limited by the dwindling evenings before Christmas comes. You know how there are only 3 more weekends until Christmas, right?

Well imagine that you can only watch 1 Christmas movie per weekend. That only leaves 3. What are they gonna be? 

The 3 Christmas flicks that are most mandatory at my house are without a doubt:  

Elf

The Grinch

While You Were Sleeping (yes, I know it's not a Christmas movie, but there's Christmas in it, and I like to watch it with a cup of hot chocolate, an oversized sweater, and a blanket....that makes it Christmas.)

We don't watch* so many movies lately because Tommy looks like this when we do.

And although it's fun to watch a movie in random order, we generally give up on movies long before they're over.

Did you notice my lovely tv stand? Sliding glass doors. You know...to keep the kids out....kids who don't know how to slide. So......that worked for about a month of Tommy's life. Someday we'll be rich again and buy stuff that actually works. Until then, 3 movies sounds like a pretty lofty goal.

What if you only get to watch 3 Christmas movies this year? What will they be?

*You should know that these movies are the ones that we must watch with both eyes, while sitting in the same room as the tv, with fewer than 20 stop/pauses. We watched the new version of A Christmas Carol like a month ago....and we'll definitely see snippets of other Christmas movies. But those are not required to watch watch. 

Family Parties

Today we're missing the first family Christmas party of the season.

Surprisingly, I'm a little bummed, it sortof sounds like fun to go see everyone, play some basketball, eat some Thanksgiving leftovers....

You see, I sortof hate family Christmas parties.

Hate. Them.

I hate that you have to get a present, find something suitable to wear (but different from what you wore to the last one), and sacrifice a precious weekend evening to go have a party with people you either love and see regularly, or don't really care to both to see and see annually.

I hate the conversation about how "it's been way too long" and asking "what are you up to now" which really just means "I have no idea where you are in your life, at all. Are you 12 or 24? Do you have kids or grandkids? Are you certain we're related?" and that's just awkward.

On the other hand....there is the food....

So although we thought we'd be out of town today, partying it up in a far away land....we're home. Because Josh has roughly 20 thousand hours of homework to do, and most of it was due by 5pm yesterday. Curse the invention of e-mailing your assignments to the teacher! 


We'll see how many parties we make it to this year, I'm sure to complain about them all, and thoroughly enjoy them by the time we leave.

After all, it really has been too long.

Thanksgiving

It was a lovely holiday.

We went to Josh's Aunt Lisa's house and ate all sorts of good food.

I made a pie for the first time in my life.

We came home and put up Christmas. (Well, most of Christmas...because now it's a 3 days process...thanks Bubbah.)

We shopped. Cami & I went to Walmart at midnight. In case you were wondering if that was a good idea, the answer is no. I've never seen so many crazy people in my life. There was blood. I'm pretty sure that we're on youtube somewhere. It was pure madness.

And since we didn't cook the turkey and we don't live with the people who cooked the turkey our thanksgiving leftovers are 1/2 of my blueberry pie. And you'd better believe I didn't cook today. So....yeah. Blueberry Pie for dinner. (It was delicious.)

snowmanned

Someone is going around the neighborhood planting full-sized snowmen on people's doorsteps.

The pieces must have been rolled in another part of the neighborhood, because the only evidence of a human planting and not alien activity is the footprints leading to the snowman. All other surrounding snow is untouched.

I wish I was as cool as "someone".

The Grocery Store and Other Road Trips

The first time we came to this house to see it, we both looked at each other on the way "out here" and said "We'll never live this far away from everything. Look! There's nothing out here! Who DOES that?" Of course now we live out here and the trip "into town" really isn't that far, but the first time it was far.

When we give people directions to our house we tell them to head West until they think they've found the edge of civilization then go 10 more minutes and you're almost to where you turn.

The day we moved into our house I was voted the most appropriate person to "run to the store real quick to get some cleaning supplies."

I drove through (and got lost in) about 10 different parts of town. I followed the road that followed the freeway assuming that eventually I would find a regular normal grocery store and be able to buy some Windex.

I was wrong. Terribly, painfully, gas-wastingly wrong.

Now I know that I missed the only grocery store between here and Timbuktoo and unknowingly opted instead to cross city lines and find the store in Timbuktoo.

**Side story: Last week we had to take a detour on our way home because the only real road leading to our neighborhood was closed. So we backtracked through umpteen-gazillion neighborhoods and 3 hours later made it home. While going through those neighborhoods I told Josh that "This is where I was when I was trying to find the store to buy Windex when we moved in!" he informed me that anytime we're in unfamiliar territory in Utah or any other state it's "where I was when I was trying to find the store to buy Windex when we moved in."  I stuck my tongue out at him and said "nuh-uhhhh"**


So, yeah. It's a road trip to go to the store. At least in my world it's a road trip.

I load up Bubbah with shoes, a blanket, snack and a sippie. I throw on a really great singing CD and we head out.

Of course every road trip needs it's car photos.

Now I know why forward-facing is more dangerous. The driver is required to play "peek a boo" in the mirror with the kid.

See how you feel like you've fallen off the end of the world? We're almost to the turn to the road to my house....

thankful for

Today I'm thankful for the Blizzard warning that brought my husband home at a record-breaking 5:15!

Also I'm thankful for my dad's passive-aggressive-so-nice-you-hardly-notice-it's-mean writing style. Much more eloquent than "Dear Jeremy, Eat Rocks!"

Blizzard

When the NWS issues a Blizzard Warning for the the entire state everyone heads to Walmart. 

Anyone else think that kings of Walmart & the NWS are sitting a conference room somewhere watching everyone on security cameras and laughing? 

Thankful for

Today I'm thankful for ice melt. 

And viatmin C.

Dear Josh,

You should be tired. Very tired. Please come home so we can both get some sleep tonight, OK?

Love,
Amy


Dear Blog Friends,

He's tired because he stayed up until 3am doing homework. Then woke up at 5am to do a 12 hour clinical shift at the care center. That's when he started his work day. It's currently 8pm and he is still running (without a break) on 2 hours of sleep.

Seriously.

Remind me one more time how important school is?

Love,
Amy

Some random notes about this day.

I've done 3 (and a half) batches of hand-wash and there are still dirty dishes in the sink.

But that's OK because I made bread AND pumpkin cinnamon rolls. And dinner. All in one day. Then  I started making Josh's lunch for tomorrow.

Seriously.

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Also we drove to Heber, because....you know. Snow.

And the drive down Parley's canyon was very nearly ..... eventful ....... more than once. But we all made it home in one piece. Note to self: Josh is right, AWD is not the same as 4WD. That's why it starts with an "A" instead of a "4".

***************************************************************************

When I picked Tommy up so he could "help" me make bread, I realized that he's heavy. And large. And not soft. Or cuddly. Or tiny. So I made Josh weigh him.

That's how I know we'll be having the Turning of the Carseat Ceremony tomorrow.

***************************************************************************

Now that Josh has clinic on Monday mornings and has to leave here by quarter-after-five, I don't go running in the morning. Wanna guess if I'll be setting my alarm clock or not?

***************************************************************************

Tommy only cried for 15 minutes tonight after I put him down to bed. Until about 2 weeks ago that wouldn't have been blog-worthy. After the last 2 weeks though, it's not only blog worthy - it's eat one more pumpkin cinnamon roll worthy.

***************************************************************************

I turned the dining room table for yesterday's Gerber House Party, I haven't turned it back yet and I feel like I redecorated my whole house.

I really love that feeling.

***************************************************************************

The general session of Stake Conference today was lovely. But it didn't even come close to being as good as last night's session. Poor Josh had to settle for my pathetic recap of last night's meeting since he was school-ing during it.

Some pictures (from this weekend) which I love

Friday: 

Life is better when you have good friends.

 Saturday:

Also when you have good food. (And good friends to eat it with you!)

 Sunday:

Also when you have good weather.

Was your weekend as great as mine?

The snow finally stuck

Tonight as I left my meeting and got out to my car I had to do the "turn on the defrost full blast and scrape the windows" routine.

I wore a scarf and my big black coat with treasures from last year in the pocket.

This, my friends, the exactly the beautiful kind of soft wintery evening that I love.

What are we doing today?

Here's what we're doing today:

• Making chicken salad. 
• Eating this lovely soup (thanks for the recipe Heather!) 
• Crying.
• Reading books.
• Singing.
• Having a dace party.
• Crying some more. (Can we say OUT. OF. CONTROL?) 
• Making the world's greatest breakfast burrito. 
• Wondering where we'll be this time next year. 
• Laundry.
• Returning 9 million phone calls. 
• Listening to hold music. 
• Printing. Constantly printing.
• Folding, stuffing, licking, stamping. This is not a process in which Tommy is helpful.

Do you ever have times that you just feel like life got ridiculously out of control? 

Tommy Goes To Town

Lately Tommy hates going on walks. He cries and whines and throws a minor (or major) fit. It's tragic really because that has historically been the best hour of my day and now it's gone. 

So yesterday when I went to have lunch with some old friends (which was lovely), I was nervous about the mandatory walk around Temple Square afterward. 

I simply don't have the ability to be there and not walk around and enjoy the beauty. 

So I packed my emergency supplies and hoped Tommy would humor me for a lovely stroll downtown. 

Humor me he did. 

We sang "I Love To See the Temple". In public. Quietly, but still!  I've officially crossed the line from "Aware and concerned about those around me and what they think." to "Who cares? I'm a mom." 

This is how much Tommy loves Temple square. I took about 20 pictures and he's making this exact face in 18 of them. 

While we were on the temple grounds (and the secret garden) he couldn't take his eyes off the temple. My neck hurt at the end of it, I'm assuming his did too.

And like his momma, he really couldn't take his eyes off the plants and the beautiful colors.

Oh how I love Salt Lake City.

motherhood makes me weep

I'm not stingy with my tears, they flow freely and frequently. For good news and bad. For joy and sadness. My own and others.

So it's no surprise that being a mom makes me cry far more than not being one did.

This morning Tommy was so so tired, he could barely keep his eyes open and I knew very well it was time for a nap. But laying him down at 8:30 to nap would mean a relatively horrific afternoon and I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

So we read, and played and moved the laundry around (my kid has a weird obsession with socks....he pulls ALL of the socks out of the hamper and plays with them) and finally at 9 I decided I'd bite the bullet, read one more story and let the poor child sleep.

So we read one more story and I laid (lay?) him down in his crib hoping I could watch him drift into a peaceful slumber. No sooner did his toe touch the mattress than he freaked out clambering up my body and squealing like a banshee.

So I scooped him back up into my arms, we read another story, which lead to a song, and eventually he dropped the book and just snuggled into my chest while I sang.

We cuddled that way, he and I, singing all the primary songs I know for 20 minutes. I considered letting him cry it out in his crib, but I needed him to need me.
Not Josh.
Not to be cuddled.
Not my incredible singing voice.
Just. Me.

So there we rocked, back and forth singing and drinking each other in.

As his breathing steadied I decided I probably wouldn't fall apart if I moved him to the crib and he stayed there, so I tried.

The second our bodies broke contact he freaked again. Flailing his arms and legs, reaching for me.

Just. Me.

So I scooped him up again, and we continued our rocking.

Slowly singing all the lullabies I know.

Finally, I knew I couldn't hold him through his whole nap and I had to put him down, but when I stood to move him across the room again, the tears came. Mine this time. I felt my heart reaching out for him and my emotions flailing all over the place.

I simply couldn't let him go.

So if you drove by my house and peeked in my window, you saw me standing, staring out at the neighborhood, with the sweetest bundle of goodness wrapped in my arms. You saw me rocking and singing all the sweet songs I know. My voice cracking, my sniffles keeping time, and my baby knowing that the lullabye of a mother is sweet no matter what.

Sometimes I cry because I am simply not enough, but today I cried because I felt the reverence of the gift of motherhood.

Being a mother makes this girl soggy.

Books

Bubbah LOVES him some books. Maybe because he knows that if he reads enough he'll be smart enough to speak more properly than his mother? Or because he'll be educated enough to not call his kid Bubbah.  Whatever. He reads.

Probably because they're oh so useful.

Books are great for peekaboo and quite helpful as step stools among other things.

I think that Bubbah liking books is one of my favorite things about him. I like the way he reads them (sideways, upsidedown, nose in the spine) and I like the way he demands to be read to on a regular basis.

He loves to turn the pages (because it's fun!) but not ALL of the pages. He gets to the page before the last page and panics. He looks up at me and smiles, he starts to squirm and tries to be charming (it's not a stretch) then he frantically flips backward to the beginning of the book again. So we start again. I wonder if he thinks he's pulled one over on this genius.....

"In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf......."

But before *spoiler alert* the caterpillar could possibly be "a beeeeautiful butterfly!!!" we're back in the light of the moon again.

I love the way he loves books.

Did you notice the one where he's pulling a book out of a box full of toys (Lower Left)? Typical.

Speaking of books we begin 50,000 more times than we finish them......

I'm almost finished with the Book of Mormon (due by Saturday) again. Only I'll be finishing in Jacob 5. You think it's strange to finish in Jacob 5? Well here's why.

Josh and I were reading together, we had just finished Jacob 5 when we went to the adult session of Stake Conference. That's when we were challenged to read the whole Book of Mormon by the time Stake Conference rolled around again (6 months).

We certainly wanted to participate, but we had just barely recovered from the Isaiah chapters and we had plowed through Jacob 5 in like a day (it's a LOOONG chapter). Everybody knows that doesn't happen twice in a row and we were too chicken to start over again.

So, we decided that once you pass Jacob 5 you don't ever go back. So we trudged forward deciding we'd just pretend that was the beginning.

That's why I'm finishing the Book of Mormon in Jacob 5.