I'm ok with being the Rhoda.

Parenting Hack:

Be stupid.
Make your kids wise up and figure it out.
Let them teach you the error of your ways.

They will do this anyways, just allow this to be a normal way of life.

Different

WOW Where has the time gone?

I have a lot to go back and catch up on, but right now I'm sitting at my computer while Ollie naps and Sawyer plays with Katelin, eating an Applesauce Chocolate Cookie (YUMMY), listening to jazz music playing from the other room. How did I get here and how am I so lucky?

I will have to play catch up and *shudder* backtrack. Sometimes I do better when I can remember the good parts and leave out the psychosis. I'm doing things differently.

The last 3 years have been wonderful. It's been a great year, and relaxing  summer, and currently, I'm at the cusp of a lot of positive changes, and felt like I needed to channel my energy to writing and recording so I don't forget how I'm feeling as I forge on.

Family is everything and I'm so happy to be on this planet with them by my side, everyday. After my experience with Oliver, I was introduced to a major mental shift thanks in part to Heidi and author Carol Tuttle. I was able to read her work on energy healing and was not once offended but felt empowered in my own natural strengths. Since then, I honestly feel like an updated version of myself. I try not to use "energy" in my daily vernacular, but I constantly refer to it to help me find my center. This hasn't replaced my deep roots of religion: rather it has helped further grow my testimony of the Gospel. I am a witness of the powers of the atonement and His grace. My life is a manifestation of the love of our Savior, Lord, Heavenly Father and the Holy Ghost. I don't usually spill my feelings about religion in my day-to-day, but I do think it's important to acknowledge His role in my life. He is love and I see it all around me. I'm the wife and mother I need to be and I rely heavily on the Spirit to keep me on course. Carol Tuttle's writing gave me confidence to recognize angels and spiritual help that's available whenever I need it. I appreciate having little reminders that I'm being watched over, and that the covenants I made in the Temple with Taylor 9 years ago have ultimately served our family during rough patches and hurt feelings.

Basically, this is where I am right now. I can't promise to hold everyone's interest, but I can be more open about the journey. Either you can take it or you can click "older posts" until something grabs your attention. I cannot get stuck on worrying if my experiences please everyone. I'm not chocolate, but sometimes I'm pretty hilarious. OK BYEE.

Birth Day Gift

This past month has been eventful and monumental. Two weeks ago I turned thirty years old. I spent the day at my sister Megan's house, where she made me a Birthday Lunch and then later in the evening my dad took me to the ISU symphony. It was a wonderful day, spent with the people I love. Here's to a great year!!

The next day, my kind friends and sister Jenna threw me a baby shower. I scored a lot of diapers and wipes, as well as newborn outfits and basically everything I need for bath time. I am so blessed to be surrounded by amazing women who uplift and serve me and have gotten me through this pregnancy with their friendships. All I needed was a baby and I'd be all set!

The following week was Thanksgiving. Again, my responsibility was rolls, and Megan also hosted  dinner at her house. I mustered the last of my energy as an 8 1/2 pregnant woman and was able to contribute to making a few sides. Dinner was delicious and I was thankful that I was able to spend the day with all my loved ones. Taylor had his first "black friday" at Walmart experience, and scored us ANOTHER TV (we now have 3) and ANOTHER Roku for a great price. He stood in line for 3 hours and made a lot of friends with the people he was standing in line with. HAHA. I hope this doesn't become an annual thing because 4 hours away from your family on Thanksgiving doesn't sound appealing to me.

On a last bout of pregnancy energy, I was able to re-organize the master and boys' bedroom in its entirety. Taylor helped move furniture around and freed up some closet space,

look at the stars. look how they shine for you.

*I knew I was destined to marry Taylor when Yellow by Coldplay played on the restaurant radio on our first date* 

 

This post is long overdue. I sat down to write last weekend, but something distracted me and I totally blew it off. I have been facing many Goliaths recently that I really had to think about whether writing about it would actually help or add another internal goliath to fight.

I'll cut to the chase. I have been sort of obsessed about getting pregnant again. And every month I change my mind because the thought of getting ill petrifies me.

Something I learned from being sick is how to be proactive and how to be an advocate for myself. If I don't like my circumstances in life, and if it was something I could have controlled, then it's solely my fault. So I have this newfound perspective that I need to push for what I want, every single day. 

Before I can get pregnant, I need to do the following:

1. move out of my house into a cleaner house with A/C

2. pay off bills

3. be free from any obligations that don't comply with being deathly ill

4. become bffs with home health care providers

5. go gluten-free, but gain weight somehow so when I start throwing up I have some reserve specifically for that

6. Line up babysitters and house maids to help with Sawyer and help fold my laundry

7. Get out of my nursery calling

8. find a new home for Hershey dog

9. Line up drivers for me to drive me to hospital to get IV fluid

10. Take a cocktail of supplements 3 mos prior to conceiving to take the edge off of Hyperemesis Gravidarum

This list is slightly overwhelming. But this is just the start of the overall preparation it will take to get through another pregnancy. And when, and if, I survive to month 7, I'll be fat and happy and excited. But the first 6 months will be a cross I will have to bear because no one else can. 

Somewhere in the madness of this crazy last year, my desire for another pregnancy kept me focused on one goal and one goal only: Move out of our house. I have too many aversions associated with this house that even though it's much cleaner and more organized, so much as smelling the brick on our fireplace will send me over the edge. So, I have been very proactively figuring out our next place. But there is so much to consider and sacrifice to upgrade on a modest budget with a husband who has no time to upkeep anything more than maybe shoveling snow during the winter. SO many variables, more so just recently, and it's causing major (more than I anticipated) friction. But I just have to remember that the ultimate goal is to be with my loved ones and be in a clean space where I can easily run from my bed and the toilet easily. 

I am still debating when and if we're ready to try this journey again. But I feel like I need to write about it somewhere, if for no other reason to help me process and sort out my concerns, since every little worry and stress taken care of now will hopefully save me from anxiety attacks down the road. I welcome all good and positive vibes during this time, and I apologize in advance for TMI and over-analyzed posts when others don't necessarily relate. I feel the same way when people talk about sports. Yawwwnnn.

the peaceful valley

I have memories growing up of my father playing his piano. It wasn't just playing, he was escaping through the music that was so loud it tuned everything else in the house out. As a child, I always knew that was his time. I didn't bug him or ask him to play or ask to sit in his lap. Sometimes I'd go up and stand next to him and watch his fingers pound the yellow-stained keys with his head slightly bowed. I sometimes didn't know whether to stare or keep busy. No one seemed to mind. The music was loud. His notes were perfect. I will never know what went through his head while he played, but I know it was for him.




Sometimes I escape to my computer and play this particular song on full blast. Sometimes Sawyer freaks out that I'm not paying attention to him. Sometimes he lets me just sit and close my eyes. And escape. He finds something else to do so mommy can have a moment with loud music.

Let her sleep...

".......for when she wakes she will move mountains."

Taylor had drill this weekend. So I've spent the last two nights alone. No big deal. 

But for some reason, I was convinced I was going to die last night. I pictured it like this: I'd fall asleep eventually, around 1:30 am. My brain wouldn't shut off last night. I was pretty sure I was having a brain aneurysm (I felt a tightening in my temples), and that I would die immediately. Poor Sawyer would wake up, hungry. He'd be attached to his food pump, his g-tube would come out, and the hole in his belly would close up. He'd cry, slapping me in the face to wake up, and would eventually fall back asleep from exhaustion. We'd miss church. Sawyer would wander around the house, picking up crumbs from the floor, talking to his halloween pumpkin bucket. Hershey would probably lick my face and then finally late, in the afternoon, Taylor would return home to a hungry, dehydrated little boy and a dead wife. 

WHY do I think about this kind of stuff? At night? Right before bed? In reality, my temples were tight because I chewed the crap out the gum from halloween the past two days. I probably couldn't sleep because I had a diet Dr. Pepper at dinner, and it's probably a good thing I was awake at 2:45 a.m. because Sawyer decided to pull his g-tube out of his belly. Had I not heard the sound of tape being ripped from his stomach, it probably would have been a bad situation. Because I was alone and would have slept right through it.

For real, I need to get a handle on my Double Bubble Bubblegum obsession. And maybe I should invest in Life Alert and teach Hershey how to push the button should such an occasion arise.

Tonight, I will get out my Lavender essential oils and lotions and fall asleep to my favorite show (The Office), knowing that it's safe to turn off my brain, my ears, and quiet my fears, if only for the night. I prefer facing my demons in the light of day, after I've eaten a balanced breakfast and had my usual morning diet coke.

Bound

I'm not a blogger. I don't own a business to advertise online. I deactivated my Facbook account again, and I am not a fan of Twitter. I stopped crazily baking everything from Pinterest, so I use it mostly to look at what other random people are pinning. I use Instagram for convenience, but I have like 20 followers. Though, if I were a blogger, owned a business, and enjoyed socializing with my friends and family through Facebook, then I would live up to the standards set by my generation. Unfortunately, I'm not that cool and the thought of trying to be overwhelms me.

I mentioned that I'm trying to cut out about half of the stuff in my daily life that doesn't necessarily help my progression or thwarts growth. Oddly enough, maintaining this blogspot has really helped me more than I give credit for. It's not for self-promotion, to sell anything, or to necessarily make friends. It's not for others, it's for me. 

I started blogging one random day a few summers ago (like five years ago), and it was before any of my friends blogged. So, I blogged a lot of silly stuff. Then I got married and suddenly my life was exposed to a lot of eyes and it absolutely influenced how I blogged from then on. It introduced a new pressure of representing not just myself, but my husband, his family, his friends, and everyone in the mix, in the very best way. I deleted some of my best posts because I didn't want to offend anyone- When really, I just want to write funny stories about my most embarrassing, private moments, because those are the best stories, and because I like to go back and read those stories. 

I don't blog for feedback. Sometimes I cringe when I see someone has commented on a pointless, stupid post about nothing significant. I feel bad that I'm putting out material that is mediocre and doesn't truly represent my truest self. 

I've changed tremendously in five years, but I'm still the same. I've thought a lot about deleting this blog, hence the lack of posts, but sometimes I just need somewhere to release or collect my thoughts and have the buffer of anonymity to protect me from being liable of saying something that's wrong, or masked, in attempt to protect mine, my family's, my husband, and his family's image.

So, I'm giving vapdance (haha good one) another go 'round because, simply put, I want to. I'm turning comments off. I have no idea if anyone reads this or disagrees with my philosophies or perspective on little issues. I have no idea what my audience is, and I'm not worried about offending anyone because if you're reading this, you've been warned. All I want is to go to a place in my life where I can announce little things, like, "I planted hollyhocks in my front yard today", followed by a picture. So that in a year, I can look back on how my hollyhocks have grown and thrived. Those are the things that interest me, that I am interested in promoting, and want to share with whomever passes through at any random time. 

Speech, over. La vie est belle. Now I want to blog about it.

He's Back!!

After a weird summer of filling my days with seemingly meaningless "busy" work, all that was rewarded with the homecoming of my husband from his six month obligation with the US Navy. He graduated from boot camp, A school, then C school. On September 21, 2012, he texted me at 8:30 am saying "DONE DONE and DONE." I let out a huge sigh. His flight didn't arrive until 11:30 p.m. that same day to Salt Lake City Airport, but we were both wide awake enough to drive home and sleep in our own bed, together, finally. 

And then the very next day was the first day of Fall. My favorite season ever-next to Winter. And with the change of seasons came a fusillade of decisions of what's next for our family. I have kind of been a basket case, once again, as we try to work out the finite details and still try to enjoy ourselves as a family in great circumstances and happy times and smiles and late-night movie watching and ice cream dates. While it's all so sooo good, I have been wrestling with my insecurities that seem to always surface during uncertainty. If I learned one thing from our time apart, it is that I just need to trust in the Lord and trust my husband will come through and get us where we need to be. 

I realized how overzealous I get, and last year was the perfect example of this character flaw. Coming home from Primary's was a huge adjustment on many levels, and presented new and different types of stress. I misinterpreted the stress and decided I needed to be superwoman in every capacity. So many people helped me get through my weird pregnancy and subsequently weird labor and post-par tum situation. Like, literally saved me! I owed my life, money, most prized possessions, and whatever it took to return the favors. I earnestly looked for ways to help everyone around me in need. I had an infant who needed me, but I took on bigger obligations. I had a husband who needed me, but I gave my attention to others. I took one for the team several times by insisting on serving, at any cost, because I felt I'd be ungrateful if I didn't over-extend myself and my resources (though limited) and my talents to care for the welfare of others. Then suddenly, I woke up and my husband was gone and it was finally apparent how badly I needed him, how badly he needed me and how badly my baby really just needed my time. 

I am all about over-extending oneself when the time calls for it. And I know that all my efforts were done with good intentions, as we have been blessed beyond measure. Writing this post has been hard. But I feel strongly that my time should be spent focused on the two people who need it most. I felt like I need to challenge myself to cut out extra activities and put husband and child before all else. It seems selfish and maybe ignorant when there are so many people who could use something from me, by me, through me, and with me. Though I want to, love to, and can help, right now I can't over-extend myself and I can't feel bad for feeling that way. 

Taylor will be attending school wherever he can work, too. I'll update as soon as we find out where our paths take us! WELCOME HOME SEAMAN TAYLOR!!

Weird summer.

I can honestly say this past summer has been...unique. 

Every morning, I'd wake up to Sawyer slapping me in the face. My first thought was, "Here we go again." We'd ascend the stairs, slowly making our way to the bright morning light pouring into the kitchen. I'd watch Sawyer squint his eyes. Then I'd kiss his cheek because I love his morning face. Straight to his room, I change his diaper, then I use the bathroom, then I turn on the TV and strap him in his "eating" chair. I find the right channel, turn off the front porch light, then get his pump ready for breakfast. As soon as he is settled in, getting fed, and has cartoons on, I have about 45 minutes to shower, tidy the house, and eat breakfast. I have it down to a science.  

During the day, we alternate between the same four or five activities. Each activity involves me, even nap time. I have to lay down with him, sing Primary songs, encourage him to close his eyes. Sometimes, I fall asleep with him, convinced that as a single mom, the only way I'll last the day is to "sleep when he sleeps."  Never once have I regretted taking those naps.

I was included in a lot of social activities. Ones that required me to entrust in the help of a babysitter. It was stressful and sometimes more work than it was worth, but I always benefited from taking those breaks. With the help of others, in the process, Sawyer has gotten to know his cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents on both sides really well, so much so that whenever we have visitors, he goes nuts out of pure excitement. His favorite person in the world? Grandpa. You can be the best parent in the world, but nothing quite compares to the power of the Grandparent/Grandchild dynamic.

I moved our king size bed downstairs after we got carpet in April. That move aided in many nights of deep slumber, thanks to the cooler temperature and lack of natural light. I cleaned out the garage and painted the floor with cement paint. I cleaned out the shed and rearranged the tools and storage. I threw away a lot of crap. I loved Wednesdays because that's garbage day and it always felt so good watching the garbage can empty. I took three online classes, and passed each one. I attempted to hire a contractor to remodel the upstairs bathroom, but chickened out at the last minute. I filled an entire garbage dumpster with landscaping rocks only to find out it was way too heavy to move to the sidewalk, so I dumped most of it out and am slowly throwing away a bucket or two every week. This last weekend, I moved my king size bed back up to our upstairs room, after I re-painted the walls and every inch of trim. I hung up roman shades, a mirror, and curtains in the kitchen. My hands are rough and calloused, but after learning how to use a power drill, I'm convinced I could build my own house. Or at least put the curtains up by myself. 

I traveled across the country twice. I wrestled with a toddler on five airplanes for the sake of seeing my husband.

I frequented Fred Meyer almost daily. I thought about opening a grocery store that you can drive-through and pick up your groceries so you don't have to pack and unpack your child every time you need one or two things from the store.

My little sister moved in for a month. I doggie-sat for my little brother's dog, Jack. Jack got ran over two weeks ago and I cried a lot.

I got called to serve in the nursery in April. I had to adjust for this calling because Sawyer can't do three-hour blocks. Not now, at least. So, I have to miss sacrament every week, and go babysit for the last two hours of church. I'm happy to serve in the nursery, so long as I never have to serve while preggo. 

I drove back and forth to Primary Children's Medical Center on average twice a month. Sawyer's last treatment on his esophagus went smoothly, so the Doctor okayed us waiting at least a month or two for the next treatment. 

The days start to blur together and there are times when I wake up and really have to think about what day of the week it is. Sometimes I get caught up in my thoughts, and I would have to take Sawyer for a walk to clear my head. I stopped making dinner and just ate bowls of cereal instead. I made cookies or other Pinterest goodies weekly. I gained 5 lbs and don't even care anymore. I read the Hunger Games series, as well as my favorite book Mrs Mike (twice) in between school assignments. 

I let my hair grow after getting it cut dreadfully short in February. I hated life for the first few months of short hair, but now it's long enough to pull up in a pony tail, leave it down, or make it wavy. I'm starting to look more like a girl now. 

Finally, and most importantly, I devoted my heart to my loving husband as I've endured circumstances beyond my control. I isolated myself from outside worries to snuggle with Sawyer every chance he'd let me. I think a lot about my temple marriage and how valuable it is to me. I drew closer to and allowed the Spirit to convert me time and time again. I've sinned. I've repented. I've grown and healed and have such a clearer perspective on life. 

I didn't come across any Sasquatches, peeping Toms, or Spirits, and for the most part, people called me first before coming over so I wasn't spooked out when I heard a knock on the door. On a totally unrelated note, one night I totally left my keys in my front door, with my car in the driveway. Sometimes I truly wonder where my brain is. 

And now, I can officially (and happily) say: bring on the Fall!!

Searching for comfort has been a lifelong goal of mine. A place where I could run to, hide, and feel safe. On the playground on freezing days, I'd curl into a ball with my limbs in my coat and my hood pulled all the way covering my head. I'd sit like that til I heard the bell because my coat was cozy and playing on the toys looked like torture to me. Sometimes I think about how I used to do that and am embarrassed that I would rather spend recess alone, hiding in my coat, than huddled with my friends, or raising my body temperature through good ol' exercise. But I totally see why it was something I did. I've always been more concerned about getting through uncomfortable moments as comfortably as possible.

During my pregnancy, I made a playlist with songs from my past. Songs that had awesome, sweet, happy memories tied to them and I'd play them because they didn't make me sick. They already had a place in my brain and they were considered "safe" songs. Even now, I have a few songs that make me nauseous because they were overplayed on the radio during the summer I was preggo. Anyways, doing that has kind of been the beginning of me searching for comfort in everyday objects. Things that would normally have one meaning in my brain, are now comforting.

For example. Sawyer uses wet wipes from Costco. They come in a blue package and they smell nice. We used them consistently for the first months he was home. Sometimes, I'll buy wipes from somewhere else, go through them, and realize I miss the Costco wipes because of the emotional ties I have with them. Somehow, knowing I'm using Costco wipes comforts me because it reminds me of being home with my baby.

Listening to the opening theme song to Downton Abbey reminds me of cozy nights cuddling with my husband watching episode after episode. And when he left, I'd play it as background noise because it temporarily made me feel like nothing drastic had happened, that life was the same as before and all is well.

My car was handed down to me by my dad. He gave it to us while we were in Salt Lake. It was the first car I could be in that didn't make me nauseous, because cars in general made me sick. This car smelled like pine trees and cologne. Perfection. It smells like my dad and how I could remember him growing up. I can't imagine driving another car, ever again, unless it makes me as nostalgic as this one now. Plus, it was the car we brought Sawyer home in, so I am emotionally attached to the image in my head of that particular, happy, joyous day.

Even little things, like the type of binkies we buy or the type of syringes we use, the brand of baby lotion or the routine of bath time are all imprinted in my brain as euphorically happy moments and anything else is an impostor.

Taylor's house on Redwood makes my heart swell whenever I think about it. It was where he lived while we dated, where we fell in love, where we talked about sharing the rest of our lives together. It smelled like him whenever I walked in. It had the potential to be our first home, where I imagined we'd be as newlyweds.

Salt Lake City is comforting to me. Driving on I-15 reminds me of my childhood with my family all listening to Les Miserables, and I'd try to hold back tears during "I Dreamed a Dream." It reminds me of going to Temple Square and not understanding the true beauty of temples, as I happily, blissfully sipped my hot chocolate and imagined my future husband bringing me to that exact place.

I think as I get older, I realize how important tradition is. I'm making small traditions by repeating practices and patterns that bring a sense of peace during otherwise uncomfortable times. It probably wouldn't hurt to go out and play once in a while, and I do. But there's also nothing wrong with sitting with your toddler on the couch on a rainy day, watching his new favorite show, Good Luck Charlie, just to know that he's happy and feels safe and cozy. Those are moments I wouldn't trade for anything else.

details of my life right now

I know this is just a minor problem, but married people should never be apart for longer than 2 months. EVVER.

I once spent 2 months away from Taylor because I was too pukey from morning sickness to live at our house...The day finally came when I had the energy to drive somewhere, so I got in my car and drove home. It was night time. Taylor was just watching a made for TV  Terminator movie in the dark, by himself. He smiled, then turned off the TV and helped me lay down in bed. I looked forward to night times, at home, in my own bed next to my husband, when the house was cool and not disgustingly smelly. I swore to myself I would never go 2 months without my husband again. It's against everything I believe in.

Fast forward to now. I've been husband-less for 5 months. I'm prepared to go up to 8 months without him. Somehow it's easier because I was emotionally prepared this time, but it's harder because he's my husband, my partner, my best friend. I can't just get in the car and drive to see him, if only for a few hours. He doesn't drive to see me on the weekends, like he did when we dated. His gig just won't end due to budget cuts, like it did for my sister who was on the other side of the world and away from her boyfriend. I am happy she suddenly got to come home, but sad also because I was counting on her and Taylor both returning at the same time. That was the plan.

I hate complaining when there are certainly bigger fish to fry in the world. I'm thankful I'm not sick. I'm thankful I have a little boy who looks like his dad to take care of everyday. It definitely helps the day go by faster. I have come to accept that a lot of my time with Taylor will be spent apart from each other. Life has proven that, thus far, we will be at the mercy of others and other people's plans, which inevitably involve being worlds apart.

Sleep slip

So, as I'm a single parent for the time being, I am responsible for our toddler every minute of the day. It's not extraordinarily hard or inconvenient, but routine is everything to me, as I depend on it to get me through the day-to-day.

I have been trying to put Sawyer down early, because the norm for him is bedtime at 11:30 p.m. Granted, he sleeps in til 10:00 am, but it's not realistic to be hyper and playing around when the entire neighborhood is sleeping peacefully in their beds. So last night, I skipped his nap and put him to bed at 8:00 pm! Seems a bit more normal for a child his age, eh. He slept like a rock, and woke up at 6:00 am.

Problem with that is I didn't go to bed til midnight. I was not ready to start my day at 6:00 am today. I'm shameless to admit this, but in my frame of mind, I thought it'd be fine to baby-proof the upstairs, set Sawyer's toys out, turn on cartoons, and fall back asleep on the couch. And that's exactly what I did. I didn't even think about it, whether it was good parenting or not. I just did it.

Thank my lucky stars, Sawyer did just fine. He loves to walk around and drag his toys from one room to the other. He likes to play with his shoes. He likes to play with Hershey.  ( I imagine he did all those things). And all the while, I was passed out on the couch. Sleeping, dreaming, squeezing in every minute I could before I had to start my day.

I am soo ashamed I can't even fathom what could have potentially happened if I wasn't awake.

I woke up to him crying, as he was trying to push himself under the couch, but got stuck. I picked him up and laid him next to me. Apparently he fell asleep too. Finally, around 10:00 am, our normal waking up time, we both woke up and he flashed me a huge smile, jabbered something, and started playing with his toys again. Phew. He wasn't mad at me for abandoning him so I could fall into a deep, selfish slumber.  

Keep your eyes open

I guess I like Taylor Swift's songs that are about closing and keeping your eyes open. When I'm not blasting Ingrid Michaelson's "Ghost," I'm blasting this song.



The Countdown til I see Taylor is on!!  20 MORE DAYS!!

just close your eyes

This has been my comfort song as of late. I play it about 50 times before bed. So beautiful and calming.

And during the day I watch at least two or three episodes of Downton Abbey because it's such a cozy show. Makes me happy and appreciative of my home that I feel safe in. Makes me appreciate my village of a town I live in. And FINALLY, it's snowing. If only I had a footman to start a fire for me...

I don't want to talk about it.

To even think about sasquatch for more than 10 seconds is so unlike me, that when I watch hours worth of footage of sasquatch sightings, I feel like I have to talk about it.

I can't say I believe in sasquatch, but that's because I'm choosing to be ignorant for my own sake. If I knew there were sasquatches running wild in Scout Mountain, I would never leave my house. So, basically, I will never go camping again.

I have to admit there are three things I absolutely cannot talk or think about, because I am so tender-hearted and I am overcome with emotion everytime I talk about it.

First, is ghosts. Spirits, more like. I know some people believe they've been visited by a deceased love one and I believe them, but I DO NOT want to ever experience something like that. Especially not in the middle of the night and especially not when I'm alone. I've told Taylor numerous times that if he passes before I do, DO NOT visit me because I am a scaredy cat.

Second, is sasquatch. Yes, I am still afraid of the dark and I think if I saw a sasquatch at night either in the hills or casually walking near me, I would shat myself and probably die from a heart attack. Watching the show on Animal Planet about Finding Bigfoot totally gives me the heebie jeebies. They actually spend the night in the mountains, all alone, to wait to be found by a sasquatch. Just them and a sleeping bag and a thermal camera that can sense when a sasquatch is approaching them. Kudos to them and I hope they discover bigfoot and build a bigfoot zoo that I will never visit because I hate zoos.

Third, is peeping toms. Taylor's mom said she had a peeping tom growing up who she would catch occasionally right outside her window. Can you imagine the fear you'd experience knowing there were lurking eyes watching your every movement in the privacy of your room?!! I am fortunate to have such a bully of a dog who growls at anybody who is across the street or growls at the FedEx truck that drives by, so I know for sure that if there were any peeping toms, my dog would hunt them down before they could get within arm's reach of our house.

Can you tell I'm writing this late at night?! The past two nights I've been up with Taylor watching Finding Bigfoot, cowering into his arms and squeezing his hands everytime the thermal camera shows anything moving. I don't know how I ever functioned before a dog and a husband. Overprotective dog and husband, at that.

Do you dream in....Pinterest?

I do. Like, everynight. I feel bad because I don't follow people who follow me and it has nothing to do liking your pins or not, I just forget to re-follow. I'll work on that.

I have found a lot of inspiration for some upcoming projects. Mostly a kitchen re-do and bathroom re-do. Which are pretty expensive, but the more my mind wanders, the more I see potential in our little house that I absolutely HATED a year ago, but am starting to embrace. So I'm wrapping my mind around the idea of investing, instead of looking for potential homes for sale that we can move into in about a year!! (Definitely plan B.)

Let me explain the transformation. First and foremost, the smell. The smell made me queasy. Even up to the last month of pregnancy, I hated getting whiffs of must coming from the basement. The drab paint color on every wall. The microscopic kitchen. The awkward front room layout. Etc, etc. Then my amazing mother-in-law took over my house and completely re-did my living room and bedroom, making it look like a house from a show from HGTV. Whenever I came home, briefly, from Utah during our 5-month stay, I started to feel more comfortable and felt better about bringing my baby home to our once-disgusting house.

I have been really grateful for one thing in particular, and that's our house's location. It truly is in the heart of Poky. We are close to so much...I'm not sure but I think the old building right behind us just got purchased by a huge retailer...(Target? Old Navy?) And yet, our street is quiet and kid-friendly and our neighbors are great. We will never live anywhere as convenient and close to stores and restaurants unless we move into a condo in a big city. (Definitely plan C.)

I leave our house maybe once or twice a week. And when I'm gone, I'm excited to go home, where I can really relax and find refuge and enjoy the comforts that we have slowly created in the last 8 months. With the influence of Pinterest and watching HGTV ALL DAY LONG, I am seeing so much potential and am actually excited to get going with my 29472873747 ideas. Hopefully I'll document the progress as I go.

I made some really bad purchases. would you like to buy them?

That is what my mom always says about yard sales. We never did them growing up because my mom was too proud to sell her old stuff for people's hard-earned money. I don't do yard sales either, but I do peruse craigslist frequently. Daily. I am de-junking my house and have a pile of stuff no one else wants, so I thought I'd post them on craigslist.com in case someone wanted it. The moral of this story for me is, after all is said and done, just take it to Deseret Industries.

I posted a laptop bag on craigslist for five dollars and a few minutes later I got an email from a girl named Ashley. Here is the conversation we had regarding the bag:

Ashley (7:35 pm) - Can I get one of those
Me (7:43) - Yes, what did you want?
Ashley (7:48) - Can I get it [link to laptop bag]?
Me (9:10) - Yes. What time do you want to come look at or come get it?
Ashley (9:26) - Do you go to isu
Me (9:29) - Not this semester but if it's easier to meet on campus I can do that. just let me know.
Ashley (9:31) - Ok well do you go to work or where do you live at
Me (9:51) - Nope, I have all day off except for 11:00. do you know where the Institute building is? If you want we can meet in the parking lot since it's pretty central. If you have a better place let me know and we can make it work.
Ashley (9:53) - Ok
Me (10:09) - What time would be best for you? It'd me easier for me to do after lunch, around 1 or 2 or whenever.
Ashley (10:13) - Ya at two
(After pulling into the institute building at 2:05 pm, I run into my brother Richard and we chat. He can't believe I'm actually meeting someone for $5. I realize how dumb this all is and bust up laughing uncontrollably. )
Me (2:12 pm Today) - Sorry I'm late. I'm parked in the five minute parking spot if you're still here.
(I wait......wait......don't see her or hear back.......So around 2:25 I drive away.
Ashley (3:07 Today) - Sorry I just got done with class

I had to hold back the urge to email her something snarky back for basically putting me on a goose chase for nothing. But I didn't.

I also posted some lamps on craigslist. A lady really wanted them and emailed me instantly. She was supposed to come get them at 11:00 am this morning, so I got up extra early to clean up and tidy up our disaster of a house right now (dejunk everywhere). 11:00 rolls around. 11:30 rolls around. 12:00 comes and goes. And nothing. She never shows up or emails me. I email her and tell her to let me know if she wants them still. Still haven't heard back.

On Saturday, I found cute side tables on craigslist so I emailed the seller and asked if they were available. He emailed back saying we could meet Monday before 1:00 pm. I emailed him and told him I could meet him at 11:00. No response. Monday morning comes. Still no response. Finally I texted him at noon and asked if I could still come get the tables. Seven hours later he replies "hey, sorry I've been moving all day. the tables are in Rexburg now. Do you ever come up to Rexburg?"
Again, I had to resist the urge to say something snarky. Instead I said nothing. I don't plan to respond to him and I don't plan to respond to Ashley and if the lamp lady chooses to write back, I probably won't respond to her either.

My day was basically wasted, so to put myself in a good mood, I went to JoAnn's and bought a bunch of cute fabric. I'm taking all my goods and going straight to DI tomorrow. God Bless the DI. 

I needed this

As I mentioned in the Baby Blog (<--), we came home June 16th, 2011. Almost two months has passed and I haven't had a chance to sit down and give my momma blog some lovin'.

I love being a mom. I love the schedule. I don't get tons of sleep, but I love having the day to myself and Sawyer. First time in my life I haven't worked and/or gone to school. Do I miss it? Sometimes I do. Sometimes I get antsy and look for jobs online or look at classes for school to sign up for, and after a few minutes I realize I'm a stay at home mom for the time being. Classes and jobs will always be there. These moments with Sawyer as an infant won't. He needs me. I need this. I spent the last year either really sick, in school, or living alone in SLC for 5 months waiting to take my baby home. I am allowing myself to take a break and be "just a mom."

I love not being sick. I had to speak in church last Sunday and the topic was "Be of Good Cheer." I thought at first I could relate it to how I had to be happy and cheerful while in the hospital because it was either be happy or be grumpy, so I chose happy. And I'm glad I did. But as I read the article, it focused more on the atonement, and thoughts of my experience last summer flooded into my mind. Despite my goals to be strong, I bawled during the talk. But I gained closure on why I had to be so ill for so long. After Sawyer was born, I experienced a happiness and joy I have never known before, and I will experience that happiness forever more.

I love being a homemaker. I read DIY blogs ALL DAY LONG! I fantasize about the cape-cod style home I will hopefully create in a 1970's orange brick house with zero character on a modest budget. I still daydream about living in the house we lived in prior to this one. That house had character and didn't need as much work as ours now. If it's for sale when our 1 1/2 years is up, we're buying it. Even though our house is decent and finally livable, I'm counting down the days until we can move out.

I love feeling needed, by my husband and Sawyer. I cook and clean and do laundry all day long. It's always been something I particularly love to do. I reward myself with an occasional schmear from 5th Street Bagelry. Nothing compares to 5th Street Bagelry.

I love watching Gone With the Wind in installments. 30 Rock, the Office, Backyardigans, and Ally McBeal.

I love to get back in touch with friends and keep in touch with friends from Primary's. Never before have I valued my friendships as much as I do now. It's awesome that I can text my primary nurses if I have a question or just want to say Hi. I have an awesome support system.

I love our ward, and I love that church is a 30 second drive from home. The grocery store is 2 minutes away. Taylor's carpool meeting place is 5 minutes away. We are never too far from home at any given time.

I love summer, but I love that it's almost Fall and Winter. The prospects of staying inside where it's warm and safe and listening to Ingrid Michaelson and Sara Bareilles all day sound wonderful to me.

I love that Sawyer jabbers and giggles. I love when he smiles while he's drifting off to sleep, as if to say, "I love sleep soo much!!" I love daydreaming about our next baby, come sickness or high water or birth anomaly, it's gonna happen. I daydream about being able to breastfeed our next baby and be able to hold him/her close without wires or g-tubes in the way. Sometimes I daydream about a natural home birth, given I don't have polyhydramnious and can do a VBAC.

I love you five or six faithful readers who have encouraged me and gotten me through the past year. I vowed that I would return the favor for those who helped me through my first two trimesters but helping other pregnant moms out. It seriously made a huge impact on me. Thank you then and thank you now.

I am in a happy place. The church is true. Amen.

30 day challenges are kinda hard

I'm so much happier being Private you have no idea!! I sleep much better at night. So Sawyer has had his BIG surgery and is on a breathing tube and heavily sedated at the moment. Sunday morning, at 8:00 am, they wheeled him into the operating room. At 9:30 the surgeon (love him) came back to tell us the magnets just aren't going to work. His esophagus ends don't line up and the tissue is thicker than anticipated. We gave it a good effort, but he had no other choice but to cut Sawyer open and put him together sans magnets. As hard as that was for us to accept, Taylor and I are just ready to get him fixed. It took 6 hours plus one hour to get him settled into his bed space and hooked up to the bedside machines. So we were finally able to see him around 3:30 pm. Taylor had to work today, so at 6:30 he blessed him, got in his car and drove back home, wiping tears from his eyes.

The game plan as we know it is as follows: Keep him heavily sedated (paralyzed) for 5 days, let him wake up on his own, take him off the breathing tube either this Friday or Saturday, do a contrast study to see if he swallows dye correctly, if he passes then we can introduce the bottle, starting at low volumes and working to a full feed. When he can take a full feed in one sitting, then we can freakin' go home. So we're talking, like, two or three more weeks. That's like a blink of an eye compared to what I'm used to. The clouds just opened up and a ray of sunshine is bursting through this rainy Memorial Day. Memorable indeed.