tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23402439401423656582024-03-04T23:21:40.588-08:00Life in DaybreakMarcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-22224904163987354272011-11-12T21:07:00.000-08:002011-11-12T22:38:04.369-08:00Adios, baby!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5wMtRxoy46YpmIyLRyBN00The8r3un1-ddiZA0OZhs_DKvMnfF72Dv_0wXK4QJxlRoda2ml6bVUe5X7m5qrK8hKqVkldnyVl9T9L5L7i3eOYOIMzx3q8-FNbu4pAn1yjSf1m7Uyivd9F/s1600/Jonah+newborn"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5wMtRxoy46YpmIyLRyBN00The8r3un1-ddiZA0OZhs_DKvMnfF72Dv_0wXK4QJxlRoda2ml6bVUe5X7m5qrK8hKqVkldnyVl9T9L5L7i3eOYOIMzx3q8-FNbu4pAn1yjSf1m7Uyivd9F/s400/Jonah+newborn" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674365016252940658" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkKvfoHKGgmGCUW_BZ2XbxGtILKV99wKKlxdHiYA99qnde8A9o-2IsEg-mE1hf7NFKM9zsZA1E7vOguS1XfcnfNGVd7bEmQccPEAxEv3pHFCtQfF-ZjSmhSJmHX-fcVVDsFoMRojjH8WE0/s1600/Jonah+12+months"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkKvfoHKGgmGCUW_BZ2XbxGtILKV99wKKlxdHiYA99qnde8A9o-2IsEg-mE1hf7NFKM9zsZA1E7vOguS1XfcnfNGVd7bEmQccPEAxEv3pHFCtQfF-ZjSmhSJmHX-fcVVDsFoMRojjH8WE0/s400/Jonah+12+months" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674365021077574770" border="0" /></a><br />My Jonah turned one at the beginning of the month. He's officially bid farewell to infancy. These pictures pretty much sum up the past year. I have to say, the last few months have been my favorite so far with him. I always say that this is the golden age. Babies between about 9 months and 15 months are so fun and playful, they (usually) sleep pretty well, and they don't really have tantrums yet. Well, scratch that last part- Jonah has mini tantrums all the time. He is a very passionate child.<br /><br />During the week that he turned one, he got three new teeth, took his first steps, got really sick, and started saying Mama and Dada and hi. That boy sure changes fast! He loves to babble, he loves to climb, he loves to fight with his brother, he loves to clap, he loves the bath, he loves his Daddy, he loves to have his feet kissed, he loves to play in the toilet, he loves to eat, and he loves to sleep with his bum in the air. He can be quite sassy, but he's mostly a very happy boy.<br /><br />Some highlights from the past year:<br />1. Bringing him home from the hospital to sunny 60 degree weather in November<br />2. Discovering his double dimples<br />3. A little incident that involved the park, an explosive diaper, a hungry baby eating the contents of it, and a big brother getting sick all over from witnessing the fiasco<br />4. Swimming at the splash pool<br />5. Going crazy from lack of sleep (ever read The Bell Jar?)<br />6. Sleeping through the night!<br />7. Lots of walks in the double stroller (bless you, Joovy!)<br />8. Field trips to the zoo, the aquarium, the farm, etc.<br />9. Grocery shopping with two kids- yikes<br />10. Going a whole year without anybody ending up in the hospital. A pretty big feat in our house.Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-40034203689136119452011-09-01T15:08:00.000-07:002011-09-05T13:46:19.286-07:0010 Things<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWElo0e_GnbiEqLgZyEbPKGGmw13MEkaCgiZiOhHrO7JkD8vvMQYYzffxI-MVkjo7ce9dCKW4IV8Ja097S7ZnIcg_g_Dxw86d_5cGCutr-eC1gXFYGKcI7Jtdxb76i2qDbCdzuarJFm9B7/s1600/jonah+swinging.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWElo0e_GnbiEqLgZyEbPKGGmw13MEkaCgiZiOhHrO7JkD8vvMQYYzffxI-MVkjo7ce9dCKW4IV8Ja097S7ZnIcg_g_Dxw86d_5cGCutr-eC1gXFYGKcI7Jtdxb76i2qDbCdzuarJFm9B7/s320/jonah+swinging.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647541077121431458" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Since Jonah is a whopping 10 months today (wait, wasn't it just last week that I was laying in that hospital bed, watching When Harry Met Sally, thinking the contractions were actually going to kill me?), I wanted to commemorate the day with a list of some special things about my JoJoBe.<br /><br />1. His big brown eyes- he refused to make eye contact with me for the first three months of his life, so now when he looks at me I really pay attention<br />2. His dimples<br />3. He is obsessed with climbing<br />4. He has the cutest gap between his top teeth<br />5. He is fiercely independent, and doesn't like to snuggle very much<br />6. His hands remind me of puppy paws- they are so big, it's kind of an indication of how much he needs to grow into them<br />7. He loves music and will dance anytime he hears something with a beat<br />8. He has the same crazy, fluffy hair Miles had<br />9. His raspy laugh<br />10. He's mine, and that is enough<br /><br />I love him so much. I never could have guessed that having him when I did would be one of the best things that ever happened to me, but it ended up being perfect timing and I'm so proud and grateful to be his mother!Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-92025900085124761222011-06-24T14:20:00.000-07:002011-06-24T15:07:17.898-07:00We love summer!<div>Our summer so far</div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAwexvV22WKPeb8ZsqLdpEzBcZJsqCNoGoRQEHVSa-wmmYvv9rdQ6Dd7YUaRCOblR3q7Sx89smKQNCEL7jYHL3bp28p32vKHkAPm3LnvJr2y20l3D6LkoZzrFW_me9jxGz0o7YYNi70Nxc/s1600/playing+in+the+grass.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAwexvV22WKPeb8ZsqLdpEzBcZJsqCNoGoRQEHVSa-wmmYvv9rdQ6Dd7YUaRCOblR3q7Sx89smKQNCEL7jYHL3bp28p32vKHkAPm3LnvJr2y20l3D6LkoZzrFW_me9jxGz0o7YYNi70Nxc/s200/playing+in+the+grass.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621909409100233730" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Playing in the grass</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdRQS725OuP88TKHa9TQiFi9rJ4spVZYTvVr4q2IYtMT6wWxV2Hittgtn3PJFi_u3tNlie6Aqq2kj94MkIWaIzODdUeGr2mFDNfh_31uK1jZRriIvPDyqZAMGB8tCNfPJSoGbc5BxK0RzF/s1600/summer+baby.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdRQS725OuP88TKHa9TQiFi9rJ4spVZYTvVr4q2IYtMT6wWxV2Hittgtn3PJFi_u3tNlie6Aqq2kj94MkIWaIzODdUeGr2mFDNfh_31uK1jZRriIvPDyqZAMGB8tCNfPJSoGbc5BxK0RzF/s200/summer+baby.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621906318469394338" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Lots of walks=lots of sunscreen+cute oversized bucket hats</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_vEUWYaRg6FUjEokI_5Bi-GiDwVojk9JHieIRL9CpMAn2pBSdZthSz0AbjQLG3RQiRXyjCyx5xns1mMC5AfvBCx5imNQNxbROXOrYImFkoyeUQ_8uoLU6a_NF6DT47kHBYo3ZQZHYnCx9/s1600/sour+patch+face.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_vEUWYaRg6FUjEokI_5Bi-GiDwVojk9JHieIRL9CpMAn2pBSdZthSz0AbjQLG3RQiRXyjCyx5xns1mMC5AfvBCx5imNQNxbROXOrYImFkoyeUQ_8uoLU6a_NF6DT47kHBYo3ZQZHYnCx9/s200/sour+patch+face.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621906316962165874" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>First taste of sour patch kids</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju5YuGdcWhF0KK1ci9o8VkH-01xlNQXWb_BNQkDV-J_c7sibu6EMkJ6YVy4FXXvy_hW2wkL6SplPPq3ExsxnKGq_gXln55TJxlIxF7e3MX0xsga55FgqTsClmyHK9OFvCizNFoZRkrs4mN/s1600/pony+ride.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju5YuGdcWhF0KK1ci9o8VkH-01xlNQXWb_BNQkDV-J_c7sibu6EMkJ6YVy4FXXvy_hW2wkL6SplPPq3ExsxnKGq_gXln55TJxlIxF7e3MX0xsga55FgqTsClmyHK9OFvCizNFoZRkrs4mN/s200/pony+ride.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621906058465285522" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Even though he did not enjoy his first pony ride at the time, he's been talking about ponies ever since!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSNMNtlqfdZ9pVYpFy0cgCmYw5jHY9ncjFGRD3BMxWumZzHjTmzac-blDkaC_UARnw177EbSxpcYB5lK__n9TKUZ1N3cirioZINxupJnrTiS0qpUUP09elgzkgCDIhGT3kdoCwZHlj7M_o/s1600/pirate+cowboy.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSNMNtlqfdZ9pVYpFy0cgCmYw5jHY9ncjFGRD3BMxWumZzHjTmzac-blDkaC_UARnw177EbSxpcYB5lK__n9TKUZ1N3cirioZINxupJnrTiS0qpUUP09elgzkgCDIhGT3kdoCwZHlj7M_o/s200/pirate+cowboy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621906049352494322" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>A little identity crisis- cowboy or pirate?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX5SfeqFnRmm62CWl9YLm5a33jKAFPkTEdCIYLpsRi6KLsZ58_gqEGgdQmqRSix-iTTGfr_dEPEKhkqgSi5-M2JPLrdyUkkzJoNs4i2d1HAR_d37M6ZDV3rRerv_oby5YejDbKPY4gBXuW/s1600/miles+haircut.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX5SfeqFnRmm62CWl9YLm5a33jKAFPkTEdCIYLpsRi6KLsZ58_gqEGgdQmqRSix-iTTGfr_dEPEKhkqgSi5-M2JPLrdyUkkzJoNs4i2d1HAR_d37M6ZDV3rRerv_oby5YejDbKPY4gBXuW/s200/miles+haircut.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621906052736215954" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Summer haircut</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjktpnJwrOb08EL0xwtVv0QLk7kBTghB4f7q5sTkJuZdP1s3Z6Ta0P_Eh88qjghYCXKwsNISkpFrWsu62DKRls2LxGbcfGcrlejAkUaD2KlvRmKaZG9TImUC-_JqhHwcq2uSX1zL2vY-iK0/s1600/indoor+sledding.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjktpnJwrOb08EL0xwtVv0QLk7kBTghB4f7q5sTkJuZdP1s3Z6Ta0P_Eh88qjghYCXKwsNISkpFrWsu62DKRls2LxGbcfGcrlejAkUaD2KlvRmKaZG9TImUC-_JqhHwcq2uSX1zL2vY-iK0/s200/indoor+sledding.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621906052722857634" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Indoor sledding</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBeax7c3EG1m7sRLBRNlHN3IIqpMDkP42c9j7x_wmlJjsIKj1yIGjzw48JOKNbG2XK-ckXemjTXB2XuNNosDVYy54L8tFrtcejsS2P29TR9ycldXZelWyhIX8qMp9I9MyX3cjh-EHBUH-G/s1600/buddies.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 149px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBeax7c3EG1m7sRLBRNlHN3IIqpMDkP42c9j7x_wmlJjsIKj1yIGjzw48JOKNbG2XK-ckXemjTXB2XuNNosDVYy54L8tFrtcejsS2P29TR9ycldXZelWyhIX8qMp9I9MyX3cjh-EHBUH-G/s200/buddies.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621906046282841410" /></a><br /><div><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Diaper buddies</div><div><br /></div></div>Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-81648831345787319142011-03-29T22:19:00.000-07:002011-03-29T23:06:55.355-07:00lately<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4blCItcU_3uK2PZby4b1YOkDAKrFI09i3MEWnwYiAZkmp6-EqNrxoih_FX2QGNTP3nxUnrTzt0OgKrnrqPHsgeyNjAK4RRohWpkaQamVQ7bvNvY2eQX4d7YlTieWBhKo7IRWazDXs94qi/s1600/darth+miles.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4blCItcU_3uK2PZby4b1YOkDAKrFI09i3MEWnwYiAZkmp6-EqNrxoih_FX2QGNTP3nxUnrTzt0OgKrnrqPHsgeyNjAK4RRohWpkaQamVQ7bvNvY2eQX4d7YlTieWBhKo7IRWazDXs94qi/s200/darth+miles.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589744027436559442" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisJrDZYtWug2aJ_Y99vSnkKj1DmWjzepCEu2Z3g-u3Zy_SuEN51aAcXnKyRX2jcdVpYO_-4T0CU0Xn7TVuz65vFKjtHxhhnui-S-7jFDi7CgorH2henoueRcduUwVarvNl8CNnG1vvirss/s1600/darth+miles.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br /></a>It's about time for a new post. That last one was really bringin' me down, man. And just to clear the air, that post was really about me working out some very personal thoughts and feelings and getting a wake up call to not take my man for granted. It was so very VERY not intended as a judgment on anybody else's choices, so I hope it was not seen that way.<div><br /></div><div>Whew. So now what? Let's see, Jonah is almost 5 months old and I have never written about him. Isn't that sad? I realized that some time in the last month or so was the beginning of me actually enjoying having two kids. It is just such a smack in the face, bringing home another baby when your first is so young. I thought I knew what I was doing because I'd been through it once before, but it is sooo different raising two at a time. I know it's not this way for everyone, and some people think it's just hunky dory, but I'm not gonna lie- it was really hard for me in the beginning. I felt like I was losing my mind the first two weeks from sleep deprivation. With your first baby, you can sleep when they do, but not so with number two. You have another one that needs your attention, and honestly I think I needed him as much as he needed me. One thing that was really hard for me about having another baby was feeling like I was betraying Miles by letting someone else into my heart. It's taken time and patience, but I finally feel like I can love them both completely without taking anything away from either of them. This is a good thing.</div><div><br /></div><div>And just for the purpose of journaling, here are a few of the things that Jonah is up to lately: rolling over (only three times so far), laughing, being cute and chubby, growing (87% for height), playing with his toes, sleeping a little better at night, taking three naps a day, sucking on his fingers a LOT, working on taking a bottle, sitting in a highchair at the kitchen table while we eat (and loving it), growing a sweet mohawk, gurgling and cooing, and too many other adorable things to name.</div><div><br /></div><div>As for Miles, he is cute as ever but becoming more challenging every day. I thought I might escape the tantrum throwing stage with him, but no such luck. They are occurring at least once a day, usually a few times, and they happen most often out of jealousy or just general grumpiness. It's funny because we called Jonah a curmudgeon for the first three months of his life, but there's been a role reversal and Miles is now our lovable grumpy old man. If he even sees Jonah out of the corner of his eye, he yells "NO" and throws anything within reach. Or if there are no inanimate objects lying around, he will just punch me. Good times. I do love him so much though, and he makes up for all of his tough moments by being a complete doll face every other moment of the day. The other night I was putting him in bed and after I left the room he came to his doorway and called out to me. I came back and he said "mmm....kiss?" so I gave him a kiss. Then it was "mmm...squeeze?" So I gave him a hug. Then "mmmm...'nother kiss?" I'm pretty sure he was trying to put off bedtime, but I didn't mind too much. </div><div><br /></div><div>He is a very smart little boy with great verbal skills. I think that's why he hasn't been so bad with tantrums until just recently. He's always been able to express his feelings using words and gestures, so he hasn't had a reason to get too upset. But now he's dealing with very complex emotions that he can't put words to, like jealousy and separation anxiety and the like. He's been missing his daddy a lot lately since Matt's been working so much. On the bright side, Matt's extra work necessitates me cutting back my work hours, so I will be able to spend a lot more quality time with my babies. When both of us were working from home it wasn't too hard to take care of both of the kids between us, but trying to do two by myself while working is near impossible. So I'm looking forward to warmer weather and having more free time to do what we want. </div><div><br /></div><div>At this point I am way too tired and incoherent to think of an appropriate conclusion, so The End.</div>Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-41624249715826847512010-12-13T15:25:00.001-08:002010-12-13T18:55:28.904-08:00divorce<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIjMGiiRK8hEQ4SvgWW4e0-xpgwqO6TUNmrF0ilJQX4-zFGaQGFPDXrTmu60gpuB_zf2xDdfJb-w7xP43_pRoqXbAtrqakV2ASRNWVQkbtqNnrA2pkBp628SoBAQ3gK90KHjb3zKFeApRZ/s1600/mattandmarci.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIjMGiiRK8hEQ4SvgWW4e0-xpgwqO6TUNmrF0ilJQX4-zFGaQGFPDXrTmu60gpuB_zf2xDdfJb-w7xP43_pRoqXbAtrqakV2ASRNWVQkbtqNnrA2pkBp628SoBAQ3gK90KHjb3zKFeApRZ/s320/mattandmarci.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550365158203510930" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Never mind the sad looking picture, it's one of the only decent pictures I had on my computer)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>It's something I've been thinking about a lot lately. Not contemplating for myself, just thinking about the subject in general. It just makes me so sad to think about families breaking up, and I find myself wondering how Heavenly Father can possibly make it right. What happens after this life to family relationships that were disrupted by divorce? How do single mothers do it, anyway? I can barely handle two kids even when Matt is around to help.<div><div><br /></div><div>So finally after all this pondering, last night I had a dream that Matt left me and had remarried within a week . I remember being especially devastated when his new wife said that they were saving up to buy a new couch. I felt so betrayed, and I thought "That should be my couch, and my savings, and my husband." The only other specific memory I have is of texting Matt to say that I missed his casserole (euphemism?). I woke from the dream feeling so sad, and it wasn't until I told Matt about it several hours later that I really started to feel better. </div><div><br /></div><div>The past few weeks and last night's dream have made me realize that I would do anything to keep my marriage intact. We are definitely imperfect people, and we really get on each other's nerves sometimes, but nothing makes me happier or more fulfilled than being with my little family. I can't even imagine how painful it would be to lose that. The sad thing is, I don't express these feelings to my husband often enough. I get caught up in the busyness of every day life and forget to really appreciate him. So I'm glad I had that terrible dream because it reminded me just how lucky I am. Thanks honey for being my family, I sure love ya.</div></div>Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-28084502529898845242010-11-03T16:21:00.000-07:002010-11-03T16:22:05.844-07:00Jonah Taylor McDaniel<img class="p3-insert-all size-full alignleft" src="http://www.matthewryanphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/baby-jonah-013.jpg" width="800" height="533" alt="" title="baby-jonah-013" /><br /><img class="p3-insert-all size-full alignleft" src="http://www.matthewryanphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/baby-jonah-001.jpg" width="800" height="600" alt="" title="baby-jonah-001" /><br /><img class="p3-insert-all size-full alignleft" src="http://www.matthewryanphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/baby-jonah-017.jpg" width="800" height="600" alt="" title="baby-jonah-017" /><br /><img class="p3-insert-all size-full alignleft" src="http://www.matthewryanphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/baby-jonah-024.jpg" width="800" height="533" alt="" title="baby-jonah-024" /><br /><img class="p3-insert-all size-full alignleft" src="http://www.matthewryanphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/baby-jonah-023.jpg" width="800" height="600" alt="" title="baby-jonah-023" /><br /><img class="p3-insert-all size-full alignleft" src="http://www.matthewryanphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/baby-jonah-004.jpg" width="800" height="600" alt="" title="baby-jonah-004" /><br /><img class="p3-insert-all size-full alignleft" src="http://www.matthewryanphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/baby-jonah-003.jpg" width="800" height="600" alt="" title="baby-jonah-003" /><br /><img class="p3-insert-all size-full alignleft" src="http://www.matthewryanphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/baby-jonah-020.jpg" width="800" height="600" alt="" title="baby-jonah-020" /><br /><img class="p3-insert-all size-full alignleft" src="http://www.matthewryanphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/baby-jonah-012.jpg" width="800" height="533" alt="" title="baby-jonah-012" /><br /><img class="p3-insert-all size-full alignleft" src="http://www.matthewryanphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/baby-jonah-002.jpg" width="800" height="600" alt="" title="baby-jonah-002" /><br /><img class="p3-insert-all size-full alignleft" src="http://www.matthewryanphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/baby-jonah-006.jpg" width="800" height="600" alt="" title="baby-jonah-006" /><br /><img class="p3-insert-all size-full alignleft" src="http://www.matthewryanphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/baby-jonah-016.jpg" width="800" height="533" alt="" title="baby-jonah-016" /><br />If you've been wondering where I've been lately... now you know! We [Marci and I] welcomed our second son into the world on November 1st. He was 7 lbs. 13 oz., and 20.5" long. He's furry, has long fingers and toes, and like to give me little pirate-y looks. Marci did an awesome job, going through her 2nd delivery sans medication. Au-natural. I am very proud of her and love her and our boys VERY much. Enjoy the photos.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-44346370241329712162010-10-20T12:03:00.000-07:002010-10-20T12:31:11.874-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivyA68dmwLRdnyWHZdDaUQEXtBQ9FkLyLElC-_O66bo-Lt8FYufVnO-Xv3J7jSseBsogncbhumZYcvF1WjA3j4_-_nrUQyksQ2-WFDrvA-zdZ65DTzoWHDO5PdhEHo-ZcIBjv2ZZhVq80G/s1600/miles-wallpaper.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivyA68dmwLRdnyWHZdDaUQEXtBQ9FkLyLElC-_O66bo-Lt8FYufVnO-Xv3J7jSseBsogncbhumZYcvF1WjA3j4_-_nrUQyksQ2-WFDrvA-zdZ65DTzoWHDO5PdhEHo-ZcIBjv2ZZhVq80G/s320/miles-wallpaper.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530212715717114370" /></a><br />I find myself sitting on the couch while Miles is napping, not enough energy to do housework or baby prep stuff, but no desire to watch TV or take a nap. So what do I do? I blog! <div><br /></div><div>First of all, I don't think I ever really announced that I'm pregnant. So here it is. I am due in exactly one week, and am feeling all kinds of nervous and excited and sad and anxious and dreamy. I definitely have more conflicting feelings this time around because I'm worried about how much this will change Miles' life and I just hope that he adjusts well to having a baby brother. </div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of Miles, I started keeping track of his vocabulary last week when I realized that he seemed pretty advanced in language skills. I'd read somewhere that he should have a vocabulary of 50-75 words by the time he's 2. He's 21 months right now, and so far the tally is 196 words. Yep, he's pretty much a genius. He's also able to string several words together to form primitive sentences. I won't bother posting all of his words, but here are a few of my favorites.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Squeeze</b>- what he says when he gives us hugs</div><div><b>Money</b>- he loves putting coins in his piggy bank</div><div><b>Heavy</b>- what he says any time he is trying to open a door or lift something off the ground (he also grunts a little when he says it)</div><div><b>Lion</b>- any time he uses that word, he follows it up with a nice roar</div><div><b>Cow</b>- by far his favorite animal; he loves to sing Old McDonald, and any time I ask him to choose the animal he chooses a cow</div><div><b>Head</b>- he also loves to sing Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes</div><div><b>Airplane</b>- any time he hears a loud noise outside, he calls it an airplane; if I try to tell him that it was a truck or something else, he is insistent that it was an airplane</div><div><b>Broccoli</b>- one of his favorite foods; he actually pronounces it something like "boppy" but we know what he means</div><div><b>Ice cream cone</b>- what can I say, the kid is spoiled with the good stuff</div><div><b>Oh no, he's hurt!</b>- probably one of my favorite things about Miles is that he is so compassionate. Any time he sees someone (or a character in a book) get hurt, he gets really worried about them and I have to reassure him that they're ok. And when he gets hurt, he will come tell me about it with these big sad eyes, then hold out his afflicted body part for me to kiss it better. </div><div><br /></div><div>I sure love my little guy. Of course I'm going to adore him because he's the fruit of my womb, but anyone that knows Miles will admit that he's special. He's smart, sweet, cute (those eyes! those cheeks!), funny, good natured, happy, playful, loving, a ham, and so on. I can only hope I'll get this lucky a second time. </div>Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-41017331919487368832010-06-19T11:15:00.001-07:002010-06-19T11:20:34.409-07:00Just a few recent photos...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KmynjCV-MKc/TB0KaJ-09gI/AAAAAAAAABw/Fm0-DmtxQRM/s1600/37334_407496424510_578264510_4134268_4115778_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KmynjCV-MKc/TB0KaJ-09gI/AAAAAAAAABw/Fm0-DmtxQRM/s320/37334_407496424510_578264510_4134268_4115778_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484551365679445506" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KmynjCV-MKc/TB0JiI0YtMI/AAAAAAAAABo/xmn0j9_eN3s/s1600/37334_407496414510_578264510_4134267_6508385_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KmynjCV-MKc/TB0JiI0YtMI/AAAAAAAAABo/xmn0j9_eN3s/s320/37334_407496414510_578264510_4134267_6508385_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484550403294540994" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KmynjCV-MKc/TB0JhjX2knI/AAAAAAAAABg/AotEZtJasl4/s1600/36778_407592159510_578264510_4136577_3555977_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KmynjCV-MKc/TB0JhjX2knI/AAAAAAAAABg/AotEZtJasl4/s320/36778_407592159510_578264510_4136577_3555977_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484550393242751602" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KmynjCV-MKc/TB0JhChUcgI/AAAAAAAAABY/Pe1yteeqc9U/s1600/36778_407592149510_578264510_4136576_1830576_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KmynjCV-MKc/TB0JhChUcgI/AAAAAAAAABY/Pe1yteeqc9U/s320/36778_407592149510_578264510_4136576_1830576_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484550384424088066" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KmynjCV-MKc/TB0JgBg3PjI/AAAAAAAAABQ/LJmerl6c1HE/s1600/36778_407592139510_578264510_4136575_8133127_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KmynjCV-MKc/TB0JgBg3PjI/AAAAAAAAABQ/LJmerl6c1HE/s320/36778_407592139510_578264510_4136575_8133127_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484550366973869618" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KmynjCV-MKc/TB0JfElPsmI/AAAAAAAAABI/s86-ji6RcfU/s1600/36778_407592129510_578264510_4136574_7538042_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KmynjCV-MKc/TB0JfElPsmI/AAAAAAAAABI/s86-ji6RcfU/s320/36778_407592129510_578264510_4136574_7538042_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484550350617686626" /></a>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-68864378549097574752010-02-06T10:41:00.000-08:002010-02-06T10:42:58.520-08:00Year in ReviewSo I know I'm a little late on this, but what else is new? Enjoy a photo journey through our 2009.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASyrHRqXmr1eCA15eFtXPcXIYfzi3lSyFjj9cDwPH84VqtewE9efdafoPs1VRQgGgp9w-7ocGPJZQMfOI60lEetl1SjD9Vk7gzbVUN5JvzCxVroY3v-9TMCfAttEShLxrSBISroZ1vZHQ/s1600-h/web-6.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASyrHRqXmr1eCA15eFtXPcXIYfzi3lSyFjj9cDwPH84VqtewE9efdafoPs1VRQgGgp9w-7ocGPJZQMfOI60lEetl1SjD9Vk7gzbVUN5JvzCxVroY3v-9TMCfAttEShLxrSBISroZ1vZHQ/s400/web-6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435194821848486290" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Pure joy</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5DlG6d2mdRp0GpP6bEWmNjp1tkmrUEVHv6CZ3kBBCY4EuGdJtv4sFlrQFjFA6SG3vFqKrRu65IzhaH-EW1LLiiL3rkTOnxwJtT_RDXONaNeRpZIcTr1hCo4Vvec2RUdAvfrl4nCW_KRnN/s1600-h/IMG_0239.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5DlG6d2mdRp0GpP6bEWmNjp1tkmrUEVHv6CZ3kBBCY4EuGdJtv4sFlrQFjFA6SG3vFqKrRu65IzhaH-EW1LLiiL3rkTOnxwJtT_RDXONaNeRpZIcTr1hCo4Vvec2RUdAvfrl4nCW_KRnN/s400/IMG_0239.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435194133298145042" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Construction</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj2n1p1HOfSstv6HtWnmUT9waTcXHQ7BTYfTao2W0pHr-Ig96Ozyw7aJP_Cm9h_v6N9Gu8gCjGl38pRPWOVgWigW6Vu1oc6C3INKmMzapYvFnbMilkNgsEIQT0Td_pRuw2OvE3ZKJC4fqM/s1600-h/CIMG2394.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj2n1p1HOfSstv6HtWnmUT9waTcXHQ7BTYfTao2W0pHr-Ig96Ozyw7aJP_Cm9h_v6N9Gu8gCjGl38pRPWOVgWigW6Vu1oc6C3INKmMzapYvFnbMilkNgsEIQT0Td_pRuw2OvE3ZKJC4fqM/s400/CIMG2394.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435194124042719570" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Temple blessings</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpjXpRU-7fS1oOscLIhfoO2kItz8ohBKR0q6pOUL_9SGOio0FMVC6rG_b54lAJSZVsnS1g2euV9ZnRy0mOYMjpYgXxI6C-k5QBPLAHMDDV0CMGbPjP5yjVGkyFgwLhHmiXbrAWVkWYSnDU/s1600-h/web-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpjXpRU-7fS1oOscLIhfoO2kItz8ohBKR0q6pOUL_9SGOio0FMVC6rG_b54lAJSZVsnS1g2euV9ZnRy0mOYMjpYgXxI6C-k5QBPLAHMDDV0CMGbPjP5yjVGkyFgwLhHmiXbrAWVkWYSnDU/s400/web-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435194800524602050" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Handicapped parking</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8g2bf_QdbMIxOxWU4SKMNlIEFr8_BSBBWujZu8uQtdEdCaMvaqcKPi-RxByVSu4UN47Br5zHs9XCTYsojb2AFXC6oobblnYmB8yjsSGns79dPc20ddmmRczHPwlg5aAvW_UAendCiXGxA/s1600-h/IMG_1767.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8g2bf_QdbMIxOxWU4SKMNlIEFr8_BSBBWujZu8uQtdEdCaMvaqcKPi-RxByVSu4UN47Br5zHs9XCTYsojb2AFXC6oobblnYmB8yjsSGns79dPc20ddmmRczHPwlg5aAvW_UAendCiXGxA/s400/IMG_1767.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435194141614405394" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Blessing day</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho9RbLAL-CJvyi9xKSS5qNZ6Ci437UkK4QKUwN2VaH0gbKzczzPW5U-Kth69rc-pUbGcj-VLB3N7I6LCjHVnw4BhmKBNf6oAl8UcqCDM1Ti6NBHzyORZUxhPWFJqoIKoxoU60w9MbillKD/s1600-h/web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho9RbLAL-CJvyi9xKSS5qNZ6Ci437UkK4QKUwN2VaH0gbKzczzPW5U-Kth69rc-pUbGcj-VLB3N7I6LCjHVnw4BhmKBNf6oAl8UcqCDM1Ti6NBHzyORZUxhPWFJqoIKoxoU60w9MbillKD/s400/web.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435194996678322162" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Rekindling, Vegas style</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHbtMCeFf39DHCfoT7EciaU8qakZznLNUK7Fxc2Lc9cOpgLtnJzKHbCz__udrMEcM_JrNHDlISHx9zcdfqOGc94guxbHFw8nwENA3KxPmzfRTJDUSidRCfsQZ59CAvwVgSJlbP4ZHaSnR7/s1600-h/web-3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHbtMCeFf39DHCfoT7EciaU8qakZznLNUK7Fxc2Lc9cOpgLtnJzKHbCz__udrMEcM_JrNHDlISHx9zcdfqOGc94guxbHFw8nwENA3KxPmzfRTJDUSidRCfsQZ59CAvwVgSJlbP4ZHaSnR7/s400/web-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435194813625920098" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Naked=Happy</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCULMXEFWV3fyl9RiI0JuSh7JbBi76hE15D4fGrt7eC4DQjMdBItqd0VM95111EW3ncnvqtROi9TVJw418wdFGsmssA0sCTbxPj4137vrAGTbO3c7CbtVQ1WgWVNcahtJlMYanrQQtzYR/s1600-h/6733_116165529510_578264510_2131466_2921721_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCULMXEFWV3fyl9RiI0JuSh7JbBi76hE15D4fGrt7eC4DQjMdBItqd0VM95111EW3ncnvqtROi9TVJw418wdFGsmssA0sCTbxPj4137vrAGTbO3c7CbtVQ1WgWVNcahtJlMYanrQQtzYR/s400/6733_116165529510_578264510_2131466_2921721_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435194115375328978" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Lions, tigers, and bears</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_N2R1-lcIl-foqBvybs9RPfhX5ZBS01V_xU7cEzQPpGmFhLpcWYPh0Ikn5mCvck-0dOniH8jithD585_3bLySRFS8QaAYldALbpRVT4rImdBW8y73zkETnWt4kJQTICAAKgCeLN8iYTy/s1600-h/6413_103633364510_578264510_1958650_6769802_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_N2R1-lcIl-foqBvybs9RPfhX5ZBS01V_xU7cEzQPpGmFhLpcWYPh0Ikn5mCvck-0dOniH8jithD585_3bLySRFS8QaAYldALbpRVT4rImdBW8y73zkETnWt4kJQTICAAKgCeLN8iYTy/s400/6413_103633364510_578264510_1958650_6769802_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435194112830127058" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Solitude</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1YewKWDjeCPZZERKQTJpkJVqu4X6TuBiQiAoPPegH_us71k3hifOhceLlYMBaIY7UgJ5NXr0TyS4Nwr-caqZPZ6nY5Nvn9A5TkK1JHsY8NjmIMFmoH_LoJZwTc7lvcqeEnNJjK-X3eCj6/s1600-h/web-4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1YewKWDjeCPZZERKQTJpkJVqu4X6TuBiQiAoPPegH_us71k3hifOhceLlYMBaIY7UgJ5NXr0TyS4Nwr-caqZPZ6nY5Nvn9A5TkK1JHsY8NjmIMFmoH_LoJZwTc7lvcqeEnNJjK-X3eCj6/s400/web-4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435194816760676690" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Bye bye mullet</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZEj2UE0COIPHtws0c8r7fI_MxMDJbjWkKch_G71cWSPpGFnAkLNEckrpLfRWK1mF6eX9Tv8rFhrdQ0j7vs_B9TiP7135xRr97BqU0KKSGxmR8j23fyRJDgC3m5C8GqP7RYARERZlj7_kN/s1600-h/web-2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZEj2UE0COIPHtws0c8r7fI_MxMDJbjWkKch_G71cWSPpGFnAkLNEckrpLfRWK1mF6eX9Tv8rFhrdQ0j7vs_B9TiP7135xRr97BqU0KKSGxmR8j23fyRJDgC3m5C8GqP7RYARERZlj7_kN/s400/web-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435194806911956690" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">First Tri's a charm</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9kCXhY-6rgyxTxCP_JLD2FIseB6jyuDiO61nYQu0oFyK1Zlwdr3H9SvMDvbtkCmN0ADWxHoMaAixO0NHmoBpVQOb5TKcAHwPJ9-_3Xknc8VY-8e77BhoTXShOsw9lulDqCT2PDzH-pMh6/s1600-h/web-8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9kCXhY-6rgyxTxCP_JLD2FIseB6jyuDiO61nYQu0oFyK1Zlwdr3H9SvMDvbtkCmN0ADWxHoMaAixO0NHmoBpVQOb5TKcAHwPJ9-_3Xknc8VY-8e77BhoTXShOsw9lulDqCT2PDzH-pMh6/s400/web-8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435194991742853570" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Bryce</div></div>Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-30825255523455406102009-12-24T06:44:00.001-08:002009-12-24T07:06:17.003-08:00Merry Christmas To All<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-2NnNOL2M340xrvs0QKy1SO1GkTsP-iZrTvoJdMleIHNUXlOBPHFQ1PZOcFJ0Uqhnh6a4dSjBApEb8Klo-VdS9fqHnESgc8AVixV5CFomZLuBfA5yq6gbk2BwceizuukRREgLykptfISy/s1600-h/Carl_Heinrich_Bloch_The_Birth_of_Christ.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 366px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-2NnNOL2M340xrvs0QKy1SO1GkTsP-iZrTvoJdMleIHNUXlOBPHFQ1PZOcFJ0Uqhnh6a4dSjBApEb8Klo-VdS9fqHnESgc8AVixV5CFomZLuBfA5yq6gbk2BwceizuukRREgLykptfISy/s400/Carl_Heinrich_Bloch_The_Birth_of_Christ.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418813962729938450" /></a><br /><br />Christmas means so much more to me now that I'm a mother. It's easy to imagine the tender love that Mary had for her precious son. How much she sacrificed, bringing Him into the world in such humble circumstances, knowing that He was sent to die for us. I'm thankful for Him. I have come to know that He is my personal Savior. I love Him, and I know that He loves me even when I am not so good. It's my prayer this Christmas that I will be a little better, a little kinder, a little more patient in the coming year. So here's to a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-73311128384004705602009-12-01T15:10:00.000-08:002009-12-01T16:43:59.185-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaS44XsyjPEscAp6CNTzAEbodpqj-XMq7iMi9ya6t-iGctFv0XkNA4rXDvj3B-dqJvZHuc8lJtYiVVJG6-Su5YgBGFV8cMS6uOL72-h4GSeIRpjt2NLFIEQdGseo1SgAq9rhdT4ia2Y0Ho/s1600/12945_180640679510_578264510_2705805_145397_n.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaS44XsyjPEscAp6CNTzAEbodpqj-XMq7iMi9ya6t-iGctFv0XkNA4rXDvj3B-dqJvZHuc8lJtYiVVJG6-Su5YgBGFV8cMS6uOL72-h4GSeIRpjt2NLFIEQdGseo1SgAq9rhdT4ia2Y0Ho/s320/12945_180640679510_578264510_2705805_145397_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410432762106839298" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Today is Miles' 11 month birthday and I kind of feel like it's a big milestone, since it's his last month of infancy. I really love my little guy and am amazed at all he can do as he gets older, but I'm definitely going to miss having a baby. So here are 11 of my favorite things about him right now.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />1. He loves to share. The best is when he tries to feed me his bottle.<br />2. When we play hide and seek around the couch, he likes to lay down on the floor and peek at me under the couch. So cute!<br />3. He's very mellow and easy-going.<br />4. His cheeks!<br />5. He's <span style="font-style:italic;">finally</span> on a nap schedule.<br />6. He loves to do things on his own, like feed himself or flip the light switch.<br />7. When he does something he knows he's not supposed to, right before doing it he will look at me to see if I'm watching and give me a cheeky little smile.<br />8. He makes the funniest face when he is chewing and really concentrating on it. He kind of frowns and sticks out his jaw, which accentuates his cheeks even more.<br />9. Have I mentioned yet that he's adorable?<br />10. His laugh.<br />11. He loves food and wants to eat everything that we eat.Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-53555886860962211432009-08-21T11:24:00.000-07:002009-08-21T11:27:20.408-07:00At the Park!We went to the park the other day, and got a few cute pictures...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZq9YuCt9SR0znsCNOucaZ0LyxSKwWktfAWb7vQ_Bo1MjmA8SGUmqFxF4MTsPhb9UzbeeDKswrtNXF5wWPlZz1r0UCYLorFCoy55NsJZmXVCK0lfUUFVw9yUqSa2CQMQAJ6S5tVB5Mels/s1600-h/wpid1142-IMG_7786.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 245px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZq9YuCt9SR0znsCNOucaZ0LyxSKwWktfAWb7vQ_Bo1MjmA8SGUmqFxF4MTsPhb9UzbeeDKswrtNXF5wWPlZz1r0UCYLorFCoy55NsJZmXVCK0lfUUFVw9yUqSa2CQMQAJ6S5tVB5Mels/s400/wpid1142-IMG_7786.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372485290406951442" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj4b52wudldIveXa51jPAnr5fvZNjfOI5ySgvbN2CatrFzzR_EPCIQJE8JeZXWp5osXW1I7aiF9ai7Kh91RHfHg-pvsB57JKcEN5RTbTJmNiAFH3gz977_cU-NcrPvhpv61UWDmW6P_Us/s1600-h/wpid1140-IMG_7782.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 245px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj4b52wudldIveXa51jPAnr5fvZNjfOI5ySgvbN2CatrFzzR_EPCIQJE8JeZXWp5osXW1I7aiF9ai7Kh91RHfHg-pvsB57JKcEN5RTbTJmNiAFH3gz977_cU-NcrPvhpv61UWDmW6P_Us/s400/wpid1140-IMG_7782.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372485284538998354" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggMSG13iVt9F-MZ8X39vPSJ7hmMhBuL6AMri8YeAwEKNcSISAuimtHgccxDIhFi1A-mSsfFtSLTwe8IhtLveeWO_FBxhQLfcAY3YSW7bgvI0r1YCC3fip2IkhErgJmiHiOi22uzRclydE/s1600-h/wpid1138-IMG_7757.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 245px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggMSG13iVt9F-MZ8X39vPSJ7hmMhBuL6AMri8YeAwEKNcSISAuimtHgccxDIhFi1A-mSsfFtSLTwe8IhtLveeWO_FBxhQLfcAY3YSW7bgvI0r1YCC3fip2IkhErgJmiHiOi22uzRclydE/s400/wpid1138-IMG_7757.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372485275259777042" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQnXG2C68qauC9uE3ORsLhCUMDWCxpJfDApDxM9bUFdx2dueAIYWGtrTAjJUeiZxM4uV031ziVnyD5u8yNwhjCIhfywB5hh-cf4vryufBpNMARyEejShdwi-dX8wi3FmDMZgu9IZjVvPg/s1600-h/wpid1136-IMG_7723.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 245px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQnXG2C68qauC9uE3ORsLhCUMDWCxpJfDApDxM9bUFdx2dueAIYWGtrTAjJUeiZxM4uV031ziVnyD5u8yNwhjCIhfywB5hh-cf4vryufBpNMARyEejShdwi-dX8wi3FmDMZgu9IZjVvPg/s400/wpid1136-IMG_7723.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372485266427762034" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkjWEOkyEkJxoYVyC-GTwpczUmoZwk6x_LODEaNDBHprF9TmvShjBTcCFrQM-tYXEHMgsYgu40Bb5vigzKG9nT4aqM1FEW7FrH8LGOV-Er83VL1oWl6DtUrGnkylri1E88Ci8FhjknQY/s1600-h/wpid1134-IMG_7685.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 245px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkjWEOkyEkJxoYVyC-GTwpczUmoZwk6x_LODEaNDBHprF9TmvShjBTcCFrQM-tYXEHMgsYgu40Bb5vigzKG9nT4aqM1FEW7FrH8LGOV-Er83VL1oWl6DtUrGnkylri1E88Ci8FhjknQY/s400/wpid1134-IMG_7685.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372485262803151170" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-5812180944474197632009-07-31T17:40:00.000-07:002009-07-31T18:14:43.408-07:00Welcome to earth, Miles Ryan McDanielBetter late than never, right? I know I'm kind of a slacker when it comes to blogging, but 7 months is bad for even me. Since I don't want to spend two hours trying to remember and write it all down, I'm just going to take a page straight out of my journal. Hope you enjoy, but if you don't finish this I don't blame you.<br /><br /><br /><br />Becoming a mother is the most wonderful that has ever happened to me. I was terrified, all the way until the delivery, that something would go wrong and I wouldn't get to keep my baby. Maybe having a miscarriage made me paranoid. But the big day arrived and things could not have gone more smoothly!<br /><br />The last week or so of December, I was feeling pretty bad. I was so tired and uncomfortable and just ready to be done. I was feeling particularly achey on New Year's Eve, and Matt almost called in sick at work but decided to go in at the last minute. Not wanting to be alone, I went to my parents house and had sort of an early birthday dinner for my mom, whose birthday was the next day. I remember telling them about how badly I wished Matt was there. My dad told me that they would take me to the hospital if I needed them to, but Matt was the only one I wanted with me. Around 10 pm, I figured I would feel better if I went home and got some sleep. Shortly after I got back, Matt came home from work and we watched TV for a whille. We tried to find a New Year's Eve specIal but there was nothing on. We turned to some random rerun instead and I slept right through the new year. About quarter after midnight, I remember waking up with a strange pain. I got up and when I got into the bathroom I lost my mucous plug and my water broke. I started vomiting right after that and then came the real contractions. They were <span style="font-style:italic;">very</span> uncomfortable. AFter ten minutes or so of uncontrollable retching, my stomach was empty and I was feeling really weak. The contractions were getting stronger and faster, about four minutes apart at that time. Being a first-timer, I still wasn't sure if I was truly in labor, so I called the hospital to ask what I should do (I'm amazed they understood me in between the panting and moaning). The nurse told me to come in and get checked, since they couldn't see me through the phone (obviously). By this time I was so uncomfortable that I was pacing frantically around the house, so when I got off the phone I ran upstairs and threw some last minute things into my hospital bag. Matt kept telling me to sit down and breathe, but there was no way I could do that. <br /><br />When we had everything together we jumped in the Jeep and headed for St. MArk's. We left the house around 1:30 am and I was worried the whole time that because it was New Year's Eve, we were going to either get hit by a drunk driver or get pulled over because Matt looked like one. Matt actually was very calm and in control, but I kept yelling at him to drive faster. Every stoplight was torture! The contractions were so intense and close together that I really believed I might have the baby in the car. <br /><br />We finally made it to the hospital just after 2 am, when the nurse took one look at me and decided to wheel me into a delivery room right away for an exam, while Matt did admission papers. I changed into a hospital gown as quickly as a girl can when she is doubled over and shaking from pain. As soon as I got up onto the bed the nurse examining me announced in shock that I was dilated 8 cm already. It's a good thing I had already decided against pain medication, because it was way too late to get it anyway! When the nurse realized how fast I was progressing, she hurried out of the room to find an on-call doctor. MAtt was still out in the lobby, filling out papers and calling our parents. We had decided not to call them until we were admitted, just to make sure we didn't wake them up for a false alarm. Fortunately they both live within 15 minute of the hospital and they were able to make it just in time. What I didn't know was that I had accidentally called my mom when I was trying to call the hospital, and she was so worried when she answered the phone and I didn't say anything that she stayed up for the next two hours waiting for the phone to ring. Sorry Mom. When Matt finally did call her, she was ready to go in an instant. Pam, on the other hand, wasn't home yet from a party in Orem, and Cal was leaving the house right as she pulled in the garage. Lucky for her she didn't miss it.<br /><br />Back in the hospital while I was alone in the delivery room, waiting for Matt and the nurse, I was trying to just breathe through the contractions when all of a sudden I started pushing. I knew I shouldn't yet, but I could not help it, my body was so much stronger than my will. I was afraid that I would hurt the baby or myself by pushing too soon, so I started to panic when I realized that I couldn't control it. I yelled like a mad woman for Matt, who came running in looking very nervous. I barked an order at him to go get the nurse, so he ran out. When she came in to examine me, she found I was at 10 cm and ready to go. I think it had only been about 15 minutes since the first exam, so she was pretty surprised. <br /><br />It was time to start pushing but the doctor still hadn't arrived, so the nurse told me to start pushing gently and working the baby's head down. I was totally unprepared for this part. Everybody says it's a relief to finally be able to push through the pain, but let me just say that pushing was soooo much worse than the contractions. aFter enduring probably 20 or 30 minute of very slow torture, the doctor came rushing in and said I could give it my all. I did, and a few minutes later out popped my beautiful baby boy <span style="font-style:italic;">(aren't you glad I'm sparing you the details of the episiotomy?)</span>. Miles Ryan McDaniel was born at 3:03 am on January 1, 2009, weighing 7 lbs even and measuring 20 inches long. When I felt that warm rush of blood that came with the final push, the first emotional was relief. The next was awe. When they held up my tiny, screeching, wrinkled baby I was so overcome. It was incredible knowing that child was mine, just sent from his Heavenly Father. Right away I felt the mantle of parenthood placed on my shoulders. It's such a tremendous responsibility to have to provide everything for a helpless little infant, but what a gift! <br /><br /><br /><br />There is so much more that I could say, but let's just leave it at that. I love you Miles!Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-16981335512098377052009-07-22T09:19:00.000-07:002009-07-22T09:22:40.395-07:00JazzBots...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEc0f2a8Po1cH39WJp2cRpkU5cacO8yfpr6dFZPPBvP9mAp5Xc2kzdCTNBXiM2EpoFbDpAGRwD17InKLqTL-aerL7cTl4XsfhCFHhYJPL2KTNkZqg3DjtYEc1AHyxFBFBfMMNDUaDcz_U/s1600-h/jazzbots.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 120px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEc0f2a8Po1cH39WJp2cRpkU5cacO8yfpr6dFZPPBvP9mAp5Xc2kzdCTNBXiM2EpoFbDpAGRwD17InKLqTL-aerL7cTl4XsfhCFHhYJPL2KTNkZqg3DjtYEc1AHyxFBFBfMMNDUaDcz_U/s400/jazzbots.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361320334546148466" /></a><br /><br />So the official blog of the Utah Jazz put out a call for bloggers. They are having a contest, and the winners get to be official bloggers for the Jazz. I thought it might be a cool thing to do, so I entered this:<br /><br />The Neighbors<br />by Matt McDaniel<br /><br />I can still remember the first game in our new seats. Our season seats were off center, upper-bowl. Not too bad, but not good enough. Not for die-hard fans, anyway. We had season ticket holders on each side of us, both couples twice our age. <br /><br />“Why on earth won’t these people shut up?!” I kept asking myself that same question. Were they drunk? Was I wearing some special uniform that said “Hey! Talk to me!”?<br /><br />I guess since it was a Friday game and they wouldn’t have to get up the next day, they figured it was okay to drink a few. They were taking the bus home, of course. I’m not a drinker but I didn’t mind them drinking. It’s all fine and dandy, just as long as they didn’t spill it on my shoes when they walked by. <br /><br />I looked over at the husband, trying my best to avoid eye contact, just so I wouldn’t have to engage in another ridiculous conversation about how this Blake Griffin character from Oklahoma was the best thing since corned beef. I do like a good corned beef, though. But I digress. Well anyway, it didn’t work. He grabbed my sleeve and seemed to try and squeeze some juice out of the fabric. I just bought that shirt. Now...tainted. Personal space was hard to come by up in the nose-bleeds. <br /><br />Either way, I was there to see the Jazz. The Jazz. The one team I have loved since my childhood. Even my years in Florida going to the Magic games, seeing Shaq and Penny, Dennis Scott, Nick Anderson, even Horace Grant! Truth is, I only really wanted to go to see them play the Jazz.<br /><br />Even though at every game we would sit by the same people, every game a different couple would show up. They showed up as the same semi-drunk loud mouths we first met, or tired, uninterested sour-pusses. When would I ever get an idea of what these people were really like? Maybe next year they would switch seats, or give up their tickets. One could only hope. <br /><br />We stuck it out the whole season, though, even watched the playoffs next to these people. We shared some stories with them, we laughed, we cried (the Jazz will do that to you). By season’s end we had actually learned their names! October rolled around and it was time to go back to the games for a new season. During the off-season we had come to miss our fair-weather, beer-laced, season ticket neighbors. Would they return? Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.<br /><br />January 1, 2009. 3:03 a.m.. Our baby boy just missed being the first born in the hospital. He was born to be a Jazz fan! We missed several games, but when we returned we were greeted enthusiastically by our neighbors, who couldn’t wait to hear about our little boy. Did they genuinely care? I think they did.<br /><br />After missing a few more games we sat down in our usual seats, not without passing the guy on the end of the row who was determined to give us crusties every time we arrived. Suddenly, a bag fell on my lap. A Fanzz logo strewn across the front. A big smile came across the face of the giver. Our season ticket neighbor said, “This is for your little guy!” I opened the bag to find a tiny blue onesie, with a Jazz logo and the words, My First Jazz Tee. <br /><br />Boy, did I feel like an idiot. After all of that time, throughout all of those games, I never took the time to care about them. Here they were, drunk or not, listening to our stories, and taking the time to get our sweet baby a gift.<br /><br />I guess I can handle a few more Blake Griffin conversations. Thanks you guys.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-19019106197684996352009-07-04T10:24:00.000-07:002009-07-04T10:29:15.195-07:00The Golden BearWhether you are a golfer or not... most likely you have heard of Jack Nicklaus. (not to be confused with Jack Nicholson) Until Tiger proves him otherwise, he IS the best golfer to have ever played the game. Now in his late 60's, he doesn't compete anymore, but continues to influence golf with his line of clothing and golf equipment. He also is well known for his course designs. His newest design, The Signature Course at Red Ledges, Utah opened yesterday, and I got to go get an interview with him! Here's a couple Q's that I asked....<br /><br /><object width="400" height="266" ><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/98309324510" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/98309324510" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="266"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-58330395342647417942009-05-28T10:32:00.001-07:002009-05-28T10:33:35.813-07:00Miles at 4.5 Months<object width="400" height="225"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=4839280&server=vimeo.com&show_title=0&show_byline=0&show_portrait=0&color=aebd22&fullscreen=1" /><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=4839280&server=vimeo.com&show_title=0&show_byline=0&show_portrait=0&color=aebd22&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="225"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-48916972123075279212009-04-06T19:04:00.000-07:002009-04-06T20:27:08.859-07:00Luckiest girl<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Ta7vuSdF5VVOFDd2iReSecSv0dRnvyEiEMHkgmO1IyDpfAmRWQku_dO2onf0upn5ZPZIr4OrA_lexVuSjC-JIwBdA3sFda66sFLhft6rHRmUqIZxKFp0z47Ll-NrRFiJeCmEdwdwn9y8/s1600-h/IMG_1799.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Ta7vuSdF5VVOFDd2iReSecSv0dRnvyEiEMHkgmO1IyDpfAmRWQku_dO2onf0upn5ZPZIr4OrA_lexVuSjC-JIwBdA3sFda66sFLhft6rHRmUqIZxKFp0z47Ll-NrRFiJeCmEdwdwn9y8/s320/IMG_1799.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321784907389162242" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMj1OuTvl3Z4_BIpd84J7wmMEirtZ4bBSEhIJm8HM0xClf8VymBPxICk5Je0Tk0dm72vvhS9lyapjlmQExEczTGTHMx5HN-EekwFok8dtYM1bfqlGYmcvdzMUEJ1e5yhiWanvAhOMZJH-Z/s1600-h/IMG_1770.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMj1OuTvl3Z4_BIpd84J7wmMEirtZ4bBSEhIJm8HM0xClf8VymBPxICk5Je0Tk0dm72vvhS9lyapjlmQExEczTGTHMx5HN-EekwFok8dtYM1bfqlGYmcvdzMUEJ1e5yhiWanvAhOMZJH-Z/s320/IMG_1770.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321784902251054546" /></a><br />I think there must be people in the world that don't love their children very much, because if everybody felt this way about their baby the earth would explode. It couldn't handle this much love. I mean, I knew I would love my son a lot, but this is just out of control. And the thing that really surprised me is how much he loves <span style="font-style:italic;">me</span>. There is no better feeling in the world than seeing him smile when he recognizes his mama. I just can't believe that I could be so lucky. My pregnancy and delivery were absolutely dreamy, so I kind of figured that the actual child-rearing part would suck. Law of averages, you know. Much to my surprise, Miles has been the most delightful baby. He is so sweet and easygoing. I seriously could not have asked for a more wonderful experience. One of the best parts of motherhood so far has been watching Matt bond with the baby. They have this really cute relationship that's totally unique to them. It's easy to see how much they adore each other. I love my boys!<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxwPOe0BJGClmA92e7dE1rOklDJS98VMBAG1ppMTKX0FrD_2wmaPTYyq9wKV_5MYl4omL5VDRFjQyrB1knMXA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-64719874481656194662009-03-04T21:28:00.000-08:002009-03-04T21:36:41.751-08:00I had to cut my baby's clothes off......because there was so much poop on them, that I didn't dare pull them off over his head!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZnh_dPeXpYwo-Y521a94OPoFRK2i8kBoBSbuvbEREFpZ2CQ7E_iReSctKjztRQWkWdeYPEtYNhWFo2xQ0mPCmYyook0AB0h1KBLIjvkw9VAohtDW2R9EynennNwNpmsbYAMM4bGkRwp0/s1600-h/CIMG2382.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZnh_dPeXpYwo-Y521a94OPoFRK2i8kBoBSbuvbEREFpZ2CQ7E_iReSctKjztRQWkWdeYPEtYNhWFo2xQ0mPCmYyook0AB0h1KBLIjvkw9VAohtDW2R9EynennNwNpmsbYAMM4bGkRwp0/s400/CIMG2382.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309571907640075634" /></a><br />Here is the happy boy after his bath<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhVHBBbc1YwHvhE9IANkbrAYCrqtM8kB5e_iD5HkwizmVVykcLns2XVrVKdQ75etjGPnl8K6bU9j5q3G6jtvuSUNK48622ZTnY8nKNSySBXrLR69ImJUjhreIL-Yyuxb1zmN5BOq19qAyB/s1600-h/CIMG2381.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhVHBBbc1YwHvhE9IANkbrAYCrqtM8kB5e_iD5HkwizmVVykcLns2XVrVKdQ75etjGPnl8K6bU9j5q3G6jtvuSUNK48622ZTnY8nKNSySBXrLR69ImJUjhreIL-Yyuxb1zmN5BOq19qAyB/s400/CIMG2381.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309571902168994210" /></a><br />Even happier to be warm and cozy in his jammies<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpnazhX-LphplM3w3tjsnAIjNGAdosUtxnNtzOMziFHP0-OKu2DTKwBykN0MVpb-W9_07ar_LpqyUN5zSM20SwkmIPe32TEjH41EKxyvbNez9Q7NfYEizj13PjS1NEkO_AOXQWA3sDfPiK/s1600-h/CIMG2387.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpnazhX-LphplM3w3tjsnAIjNGAdosUtxnNtzOMziFHP0-OKu2DTKwBykN0MVpb-W9_07ar_LpqyUN5zSM20SwkmIPe32TEjH41EKxyvbNez9Q7NfYEizj13PjS1NEkO_AOXQWA3sDfPiK/s400/CIMG2387.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309571898488762722" /></a><br />We love our baby Miles!Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-20206444989225589652009-02-28T13:59:00.001-08:002009-03-04T23:54:41.654-08:00Post-Op AppointmentWell, It's been a week since my knee surgery, and time for my post-operation appointment with Dr. Marshall. I thought that when they took off my bandages, I would look terrible under them. It didn't look to bad at all. In fact, I was surprised at how good it did look. Anyway, they took off my bandages and cleaned up the area a little and sent me to get X-Rays. After that, they took out my stitches, which kinda hurt, and covered the spots with tape. They gave me a cool new brace that bends and makes me feel like Robo-Matt. Anyway, after my appointment I had to go get an ultrasound because the Dr. thought I may have had a blood clot. I don't have one thank goodness. So now, I am able to drive, work, shower, etc... but I will still be on crutches for 2 more weeks.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOORwj3ciFK6fpExSaKsrHacykMlWtIsR5QU78NxdthTT-5Jf_kUDCQeF6ZuacjMp8zLV7mDAKTD2mThNe0KwjnNMEWmUdmmk6a8PaD6mdLJQZDVv4S2Oq2BSiAsSzRjYQdw9Wg1nUI_w/s1600-h/CIMG2369.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOORwj3ciFK6fpExSaKsrHacykMlWtIsR5QU78NxdthTT-5Jf_kUDCQeF6ZuacjMp8zLV7mDAKTD2mThNe0KwjnNMEWmUdmmk6a8PaD6mdLJQZDVv4S2Oq2BSiAsSzRjYQdw9Wg1nUI_w/s400/CIMG2369.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309608920406804898" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFyEJeTzQZ436SlE795OxmZySZJVsDNTCAKDG1Y2hD2nH9lYMUZFU9faBQhJnDXRJpuOMdhJOrjiIB2g6qppgw7IUBwD-sr56y6S5P7N1RgexWZ7NO_nBXZaKXo5Z03TdqMxDuZa50QE/s1600-h/CIMG2368.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFyEJeTzQZ436SlE795OxmZySZJVsDNTCAKDG1Y2hD2nH9lYMUZFU9faBQhJnDXRJpuOMdhJOrjiIB2g6qppgw7IUBwD-sr56y6S5P7N1RgexWZ7NO_nBXZaKXo5Z03TdqMxDuZa50QE/s400/CIMG2368.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309608920412284258" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-24978174552484935282009-02-23T11:41:00.000-08:002009-02-24T15:39:11.026-08:00Dinner With David<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvIbQwwboe5Bey0yLHPtMfJijynirRK515hxeSdsnRGsuu6_-S7iUO43FDSnu-Vu3DBpJxA548uD05X4Jv8jAA0dw96izx-c_siLiKdk8xez2SRpr-k_JiEi6CvuXchOZZx5LzottjQbc/s1600-h/IMG_4733.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvIbQwwboe5Bey0yLHPtMfJijynirRK515hxeSdsnRGsuu6_-S7iUO43FDSnu-Vu3DBpJxA548uD05X4Jv8jAA0dw96izx-c_siLiKdk8xez2SRpr-k_JiEi6CvuXchOZZx5LzottjQbc/s400/IMG_4733.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306512431161413346" /></a><br />So my Mom and I got the rare opportunity to have dinner with David Archuleta. To make this post a lot quicker to write, I am using my Mom's version of the story that she wrote up for her David Archuleta fan site (fansofdavid.com). She's a big DA fan..<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Last Monday, on President’s Day, I had a very choice opportunity to have dinner with David! This was billed as an exclusive dinner with David with only twelve guest and then David and whoever he chose to bring. It sounded too good to be true! The Boys and Girls Club sponsored the charity dinner to benefit their club. I was one of the VERY FORTUNATE ones who won a bid for the dinner! I don’t know how I got that lucky but I did. And I am so grateful for it because it was a very special evening, one that I will treasure for the rest of my life!<br /><br />We arrived (my son, Matt, went with me) about 6:30 and were taken into a semi-private area of Carver’s restaurant in Sandy, Utah. The tables were arranged in a rectangular pattern. Most everybody was already there and seated except for the guest of honor, DAVID, and his family. There were three chairs for them on one of the short sides of the table and then three more chairs on the other short side where Kim from the Boys and Girls Club was sitting, along with her sister and a photographer. Along the long sides were six chairs on each side where TWELVE VERY LUCKY people were seated. YES! Only twelve fans vying for David’s attention! And about two and a half hours time to talk to him and LOOK at him! Larissa was there from Singapore, and the lady who bought the shirt and the bracelet from the Bonnie Hunt Show Auction. A woman was there with her fifteen year old daughter from New York, some people were from California, a woman there with her grand-daughter was local, as were we.<br /><br />We had not been there too long before David entered along with Lupe and Jeff. I wanted to clap, scream, whistle and WOOT! WOOT! but nobody else did so I thought I had better show some restraint - and besides, my son was with me!!! Jeff and David kind of just stood by the chairs where they were to be sitting smiling, acknowledging people and such! But sweet Lupe walked around the whole table and shook hands with and spoke to everybody! She is a very kind, warm, genuine person! I told her that I had met her at intermission during the final AI Tour show in Tulsa. She seemed to remember that!<br /><br />After that the waiter went into a rather lengthy spiel about the menu and all our choices and described each choice at length in a rather flowery, theatrical manner! By the way, when he finished we did all clap!!! David was the first to order and in spite of the waiter’s explanation of everything David had many questions about EVERYTHING! So cute! Finally Lupe leaned over to him and said, “David, they are all waiting! ” As if we weren’t just hanging on his every word and delighting in just being there with him and being able to observe him in a rather cozy, homey setting! Finally, David did order and the waiter moved on! This is what my son observed about the ordering process for David. Too funny!<br /><br />David ordered: The stuffed portobello, but he asked if he could get it w/o shrimp. The spinach and apple salad, because he was in the mood for something healthy, and decided on that after much debate. He thought about getting the Filet, but after asking “Prime rib? Wait… what was that again?” He went with the Prime Rib. After he got the meal, and saw the mashed potatoes he asked, “Are these mashed potatoes?” The waiter replied, “Garlic Mashed Potatoes sir.” “Oh, okay” David replied, “Why is garlic good for you again?” The Bailey’s Cream pie. David’s comment: “Mmm, this tastes like Oreos or something…” The server’s reply: “That’s because it is an Oreo crust.”<br /><br />After ordering and while we were waiting for our food to arrive David said he wanted to get to know everybody so we went around the table introducing ourselves and telling him a few things about us and asking him a few things. I thought I would clam up or start stuttering and not be able to think of anything to say but I think I did OK. I don’t think I embarrassed myself or made a fool of myself in any way. I guess I should ask Matt (my son) about that as he did warn me as we were walking in not to say anything stupid, or something like that! David and his family are so easy to talk to. They have an ability to put one at ease and it’s truly amazing. In Larissa’s story she talks about how David was looking over at her a lot and all. I had the same feeling. He seemed to be looking at me a lot and smiling and I thought maybe it was because I was staring at him! I simply could not take my eyes off of him! Maybe he kept looking my direction because of the pretty fifteen year old girl sitting next to her Mom who was sitting next to me. No, I’m sure that wasn’t it! David did seem to text a lot/some throughout dinner in typical 18 y/o fashion! And David did eat EVERYTHING on his plate with gusto! I think if he could have had more he would have. A typical teenage boy!<br /><br />We proceeded through dinner and we were able to ask him questions all throughout the meal which he graciously answered, along with Jeff and Lupe! There were some things they could not share but were very open to answering any and all questions. After dinner the photographer took a picture of each one of us with David and he signed a CD for each of us. We were able to give him gifts we had brought and did I mention the HUG? I asked him if I could get one of those famous hugs I had heard about. He said, “What? They’re famous?” And I said, “Oh, yes!” and got a hug that was rated as a ten - by me!!! They were in a rush at that point because they were going back to rehearse with the band and they were already 40 minutes late. And he had the get up at 4:30 AM the next morning to catch a plane to Los Angeles. What a hectic schedule - I hope he has a chance to get some rest now and then! Matt offered to help them out with some of the gifts. In fact he already had an armload of gifts. But David wouldn’t let him. He kept saying, “That’s OK - I’m used to it!” (I’ll bet he is!!!) and “I have to help with all the band stuff at rehearsal, too!” Anyway, they had parked in back of the restaurant and arrived and left through he kitchen, just like in the movies, huh?<br /><br />I know I am leaving out details of the conversations, some of which I already shared commenting on FOD. But this is getting rather lengthy, sorry, so I had better end it now! I just want say that in was an AMAZING experience to be able to meet David that way, where it was so relaxed and casual. He is everything we all say he is. He is genuine and humble. He's funny and engaging. He is gorgeous with beautiful eyes and a melt-your-heart smile! He seems to really care about people and is able to show that through his actions and his words. I am a DAVID ARCHULETA fan for now and forever! I am no longer SLTMD (Still Longing to Meet David) but I am definitely LTMDA (Longing to Meet David Again). I hope all who have never met DAVID will get the chance someday. It is an experience that I will never forget and will hold close to my heart!</span><br /><br />Well I don't know if I agree with that last part about him being so cute and all, but it was a pretty cool experience.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-48486028205741244812009-02-21T19:46:00.000-08:002009-02-24T15:32:18.864-08:00Surgery (First time ever!)Friday morning at 9 AM, we checked in at the hospital. I was nervous, but I knew that surgery, in the long run would be the best thing to do for my knee. After getting checked in, we were walked down to the waiting area, and then immediately called into the pre-op room. The nurse gave me a gown which was about 6" too short, and so Marci decided it would be funny to take a picture. The nurse then put in my IV, which if you've never had one, is like the worst thing in the world. Then my knee was shaved and marked with a purple marker. Marci went to wait in the waiting room, as my bed and I were wheeled into the operating room. The room was pretty big, and white, with a lot of lights and tables. I laid down and they strapped my arms down, one taking my blood pressure and the other with the IV. The anesthesiologist, without much delay, gave me some oxygen to breathe, and and then said to give him about 6 deep breaths. On breath 4, he said that I'll be out in about 10 seconds. I could actually feel the goo entering my arm and making its way to my heart. As things started getting dark, I remember saying, "Goodnight!".<br /><br />Next thing I remember is waking up in the post-op room, and feeling my leg in a LOT of pain! I told the nurse and she gave me a muscle relaxer, though she did put it in my right leg, which wasn't the leg that hurt.... Marci came in and showed me some love, while I dozed in and out of consciousness. We made our way out to the car, and eventually home. Since then I've been laying around on the couch, only getting up to go to the restroom. My pain levels aren't too high, but every once in a while, I will jolt in my sleep and stretch my leg really bad. My mom was gracious enough to take Cosmo for the weekend, so that does make things a little easier.<br /><br />Come and visit us, we'll be here all week! (Bring goodies...)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnzhS0nLRkHCLeEnKG7iZJ-GzE3CjsyHvJz0hn5YzWt9RrAY5lssjgVzRpvgGxJaaPoUSeelwheBDK3yCYMts-gclXkViov6LH7lFE63hqL4h3bxFqOs9kLqjNTDhtoacttWIEWJstpj8/s1600-h/n578264510_1284814_4901.jpg.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnzhS0nLRkHCLeEnKG7iZJ-GzE3CjsyHvJz0hn5YzWt9RrAY5lssjgVzRpvgGxJaaPoUSeelwheBDK3yCYMts-gclXkViov6LH7lFE63hqL4h3bxFqOs9kLqjNTDhtoacttWIEWJstpj8/s400/n578264510_1284814_4901.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306509989180693026" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Z6ljWbRR1kc0DUDVeNozIL18zJBI_1WukHdx2pNONmk2fFyUu9TnxJAY_966I1MInG2GFZxY43rsJcUbvyO4SI4cRbKvm-Imz719W6CgERSNgdbRz6vO9MLjGRxvK1KDcBSujTHZ_ME/s1600-h/n578264510_1284813_5016.jpg.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Z6ljWbRR1kc0DUDVeNozIL18zJBI_1WukHdx2pNONmk2fFyUu9TnxJAY_966I1MInG2GFZxY43rsJcUbvyO4SI4cRbKvm-Imz719W6CgERSNgdbRz6vO9MLjGRxvK1KDcBSujTHZ_ME/s400/n578264510_1284813_5016.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306509988045388082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6iURP8qE11M_gNiqNDDh1OdA5Nv0KEvrCXg8TD70EVzIpc7LHZLJfytb-feqSsl-xRHWKOilGtUHonusgldQ2hRwEfsqBZKl0TzBlsekazPWtNYxexQdn0g9c83nZqfiTEG87_I4xhU/s1600-h/n578264510_1284812_3993.jpg.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6iURP8qE11M_gNiqNDDh1OdA5Nv0KEvrCXg8TD70EVzIpc7LHZLJfytb-feqSsl-xRHWKOilGtUHonusgldQ2hRwEfsqBZKl0TzBlsekazPWtNYxexQdn0g9c83nZqfiTEG87_I4xhU/s400/n578264510_1284812_3993.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306509989147056994" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBOvKHSg6OidY1yZpOqsP9MZBr_9fYMsGYmvlz-g2LDCTl53ZxrzrQW6NN0sG3T-8j_k_HELBhRq9XHNKBJJNMW0RWRF8HgkxvT7NyLUw14ywpWLR7jY2WTzL3rTWz9G-yLSJ6hvKwRDo/s1600-h/n578264510_1282891_7828.jpg.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBOvKHSg6OidY1yZpOqsP9MZBr_9fYMsGYmvlz-g2LDCTl53ZxrzrQW6NN0sG3T-8j_k_HELBhRq9XHNKBJJNMW0RWRF8HgkxvT7NyLUw14ywpWLR7jY2WTzL3rTWz9G-yLSJ6hvKwRDo/s400/n578264510_1282891_7828.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306509986473141730" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpYpbXFJ9W54mqSGIh4RnYGVGYHtqfu7n7CAsxDCPWo9kF0I2mDK77ewNZ_kKZeDNpnXiEi2vBUE2jsFwjvE0SC72pW6MxaKW9W1Sb6OcpBLhiBIXYmYCP5wGB0WusOSsNvS-gEicwQg/s1600-h/n578264510_1284809_5780.jpg.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpYpbXFJ9W54mqSGIh4RnYGVGYHtqfu7n7CAsxDCPWo9kF0I2mDK77ewNZ_kKZeDNpnXiEi2vBUE2jsFwjvE0SC72pW6MxaKW9W1Sb6OcpBLhiBIXYmYCP5wGB0WusOSsNvS-gEicwQg/s400/n578264510_1284809_5780.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306509987064828210" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cP3nyJSl6i0/SaDVZri1y9I/AAAAAAAAA08/7Ieem3FmibI/s1600-h/IMG_0265.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: none;"><br /></span></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-51282261087924540652009-02-13T10:28:00.000-08:002009-02-24T15:41:48.630-08:00That Darned KneeI hate getting injured! Especially when it means no basketball, bowling, golf or climbing for a year! Here's the scoop:<br /><br />I was playing ball last Tuesday (as I normally do), when I came down from a jump and felt my knee pop sideways, which is not a good feeling, just so you know. After an intense minute of pain, it started feeling a little better and I was able to put some weight on it. I decided to drive myself home, though some good friends offered to do that for me. While stepping into my Jeep, I felt my knee pop out again! Dang that hurt. I was still okay, and started driving home. On my way home, I decided I'd better go to the ER, due to the fact that the pain and burning were reaching an 8 on the pain scale, and I was feeling sick and light-headed.<br /><br />Once I got to the hospital, I found the ER, but the normal entrance was closed for construction, so I had to park about 200 yards away from the ambulance entrance and hop myself in on one leg (stopping about every 50 yards). The ER took about 2 hours total, and all I got from them was a referral to see a real doctor, and a prescription for 800mg of ibuprofen, which I would have done anyway without them prescribing it to me. <br /><br />A few days of hobbling around go by, with improvements in mobility, pain and swelling. Now it was time to see the Orthopedic that I was referred to. The first visit, he seemed a little distant, and eager to pawn us off to the hospital for an MRI. So two days later.... I got an MRI. I'll have to say that keeping my leg absolutely strait and still was painful for a few seconds, and having to do it for 45 minutes was misery. <br /><br />Two days later came the follow-up visit with the Ortho. He looked at the MRI and seemed to immediately know what had happened. "Your ACL is shredded, and you've torn your meniscus. I'd recommend reconstructive surgery." Oh boy, I thought that I might have pulled something, and that I could just rehab it back to full strength. After all, by this time, I was walking at about 75-80% of normal. I thought that if I got a second opinion, maybe the results could change, so I had my Dad take my MRI to his world-renowned Orthopedic Surgeon in Miami, and without any thought, he suggested reconstructive surgery. <br /><br />So that settles it. Surgery it is. If you are interested in knowing how they reconstruct the ACL, you may want to Google it. It's pretty interesting. Anyway, here are my MRI images:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQYDwy9OkdlGmgyBm0PmBgoXUHrLpDBFe9Oi0KHwHVpeLCpavo9rdR_liHlB75rijdhO0gVrKmbxV1SvyUWswRPEeQ5EddAq2OD8PsqS5e7uOykFmp28DHPNaqz6NPFa3pk5NFOMVSPTQ/s1600-h/n578264510_1248762_8849.jpg.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQYDwy9OkdlGmgyBm0PmBgoXUHrLpDBFe9Oi0KHwHVpeLCpavo9rdR_liHlB75rijdhO0gVrKmbxV1SvyUWswRPEeQ5EddAq2OD8PsqS5e7uOykFmp28DHPNaqz6NPFa3pk5NFOMVSPTQ/s400/n578264510_1248762_8849.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306513214731589602" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_OkS3YV8XxbU_ayjUVYaDmOxWWwk_rYSq8I48KKFqXVh2PfERXP9DdZWrN7wBjQtlANoeEKuzqokuAOiJYXhLAeHs6G5TLHS-rZBULW90qY8szRKt7jkyPjEJf2axIGHr8ED7-RnnLc/s1600-h/n578264510_1248761_9346.jpg.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 397px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_OkS3YV8XxbU_ayjUVYaDmOxWWwk_rYSq8I48KKFqXVh2PfERXP9DdZWrN7wBjQtlANoeEKuzqokuAOiJYXhLAeHs6G5TLHS-rZBULW90qY8szRKt7jkyPjEJf2axIGHr8ED7-RnnLc/s400/n578264510_1248761_9346.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306513210958612130" /></a>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-45515763829587567072008-12-15T12:44:00.000-08:002008-12-15T12:50:14.016-08:006 QuirksHere are six quirky things about Matt and I. Hope you learn something new, and if you can think of anything I left out, let me know. I don't know if I'm really normal or just in denial, but it was so hard for me to come up with these! Thanks, Crystal, for giving me a reason to blog.<br /><br />Matt<br />1. Matt has never changed a diaper. Boy is he in for a treat.<br />2. Matt hates using coupons or getting any kind of discount. He is extremely embarrassed by my little hobby.<br />3. He refuses to complain about poor service at restaurants or other businesses. That’s okay, though, because I do enough for both of us.<br />4. Matt thinks it’s gross to use the same bath towel for a week. Is it?<br />5. When we were dating, he would always go along with whatever I wanted to do, preferring to please me rather than get his way. I used to get mad at him and tell him to stick up for himself. Why, oh why did I do that?<br />6. Matt refuses to go to the doctor when he's sick. He’s been once, maybe twice, in the four years that I’ve known him.<br /><br />Marci<br />1. I love coupons and sales. I am a master bargain shopper and getting a good deal brings me more joy than (almost) anything else.<br />2. I secretly played with Barbie dolls until I was probably 13 or 14. Cheri and I used to make up the most dramatic plot lines, like Barbie and Ken were shipwrecked and they had to fashion clothes out of the ship’s sails. We had great imaginations!<br />3. Mushrooms make me want to die. Once I unsuspectingly took a bite of what I thought was pureed beans. When I realized that it was actually a mushroom puree, I started violently dry heaving and almost tossed my cookies during the dinner prayer (Sorry about that, Jane. I’m sure it was really delicious).<br />4. I say the word “hate” way too much. It’s not like I really feel that strongly about everything. It’s just one of those things I say without thinking. Matt’s trying to help me stop because he’s worried about what I might teach our son.<br />5. I am a major procrastinator. Anything that <em>can</em> be put off til later, will be.<br />6. I consider myself an expert in many things though I am, in fact, an expert in nothing.Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-79072128497817292442008-11-08T16:49:00.000-08:002008-11-08T18:00:05.421-08:00What am I so afraid of?I was trying to explain to some dear friends last night why I have put off blogging about my pregnancy for so long. For heavens sakes, I am eight months! It's about time, right? The thing is, I'm a really private person. It's hard for me to publish my most intimate details on the interweb. Another thing is that I don't want people to be interested in me for only that reason. It happened when I got engaged; all people could talk about was my wedding. And it's 10 times worse now that we have a baby on the way. It's sweet, I suppose, that everyone is so concerned about my well-being, but sometimes I just want to talk about something else! I hope I'm not sounding bitter, because I certainly don't feel that way. Pregnancy is the most amazing, miraculous, beautiful thing. Really. As I am sitting here, my little baby is rolling around in my belly, reminding me that there is a little person in there who can't wait to come out (just under 2 months left). It's so incredible. But I guess I should start from the beginning.<div>(Note: if you don't want all the gritty details, please skip to the last paragraph for the good stuff)</div><div><br /></div><div>Last September, while Matt and I were minding our own business, a baby decided to take up a home in my uterus. How dare he (or she)! Didn't he know that we weren't ready? It wasn't in our plan for at least a couple more years. I remember being so incredulous after taking a home pregnancy test, that I made Matt shuttle me to the urgent care clinic by our house, just so they could reassure me that it was a false positive. But no, that was not to be. When the doctor came back to congratulate me, I broke down into hysterics. Poor guy! He was so confused, and he and Matt kept looking at each other like "huh?" I guess he'd never had a reaction quite like that before. He even asked if we were married, and told me about my "options" (you know, adoption, abortion, etc.). I couldn't explain why I was so upset, I just wanted to go home. He made us go to the hospital for an ultrasound first, but it was too early to see anything. After we left the hospital, I just laid down and cried for the rest of the day. I feel bad now, because I think Matt wanted to be excited but was afraid of me! We broke the bad news to our families pretty soon, and I started making the necessary arrangements. I scheduled doctor's appointments, talked to my insurance agency, etc. It felt more like a funeral than a pregnancy. A few weeks after finding out, I started having some pain. We went to the hospital for another ultrasound, and this time they found a heartbeat. They showed us our little bean of a baby and even printed off a screenshot for us to keep as a souvenir. While I was laying there on the table, cold slime sliding over my abdomen, something clicked. I looked over at Matt and we both had tears in our eyes. That was our baby! From that point on, I was happy as a clam. I started making a list of baby names, dreaming up nursery color schemes, shopping for baby clothes. I even made the big announcement at work, sending a copy of that first ultrasound picture to everyone in the office. You can imagine my terror, then, when I noticed spotting accompanied by severe back pain. Matt rushed me to my doctor's office, who did an ultrasound and informed us that, with my symptoms, chances of carrying the baby to term were about 50/50. We left the office, stunned, and on the way home I felt the worst pain imaginable. It was almost out of body, I could hear myself moaning but didn't feel like I was really there. I tried to sleep but couldn't, I took some Tylenol, and we called our home teacher to help give me a priesthood blessing. A short time after he left I feel asleep. When I woke up, I went to the bathroom and that was it. I miscarried. Immediately the pain was gone. It was such a relief at that point that I didn't feel any sadness. Until the next day, when I went to the doctor and he confirmed it. I was devastated. I felt numb for weeks. </div><div><br /></div><div>Fast forward to May of this year. When my friend suggested that maybe the pain in my side wasn't just a cramp, but pregnancy, I was terrified. I came home and took a test, and sure enough, it was positive. Shaking and crying, I called Matt into the room and showed him the stick. I thought for sure it was going to be another miscarriage, or worse, a life-threatening ectopic pregnancy. I was afraid to be happy about it, knowing that I wasn't ready to suffer like that again. My sweet husband just held me while I cried and he promised that everything was going to be okay. We went to the doctor the next day and the ultrasound showed that I was about 6 weeks pregnant. I held my breath for the next month and a half, knowing that if I could just make it to the second trimester, everything <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">would</span> be okay. This time, I knew I was ready. The timing felt right, Matt and I were happy, we were more financially stable, and it just made sense. We told our immediate families right away, but kept mum with everyone else until about the end of June, when a few close friends realized what was going on. Once I reached 12 weeks, we decided it would be okay to share the happy news with our loved ones. What a joy it was to tell everyone, knowing that we were out of the "danger zone". I was still too paranoid to make many plans, always fearing that something would go wrong. But time passed, visits with the doctor came and went, and everything was normal. We went to the 20 week ultrasound in the middle of August, nervous and excited to find out the sex of our baby and find out if it was developing properly. I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face the whole time I was laying there, and when the doctor pronounced that everything seemed to be in working order and that we were having a boy, I felt a rush of relief, joy, love. I was going to be a mother. For real, this time! There haven't been many new developments since then. He's just swimming around, growing bigger and stronger every day, and we're preparing ourselves to bring home a baby in 58 days. Sometimes when I think about him, I feel a tiny fraction of the maternal love that I imagine I will feel when he finally arrives. I talk to my belly and tell him that I can't wait to see him, but to kindly stay in there until he's well done. </div><div><br /></div><div>I apologize if you started reading this entry 20,000 years ago and are bored to tears, but I warned you, didn't I?</div>Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2340243940142365658.post-37814034892405241602008-10-13T16:25:00.000-07:002008-10-13T16:38:09.801-07:00I almost forgot<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfQo4lZ-v12nxoszLLJGYRq43spxXqgRlmPkSvEZoamBEPJe24x6JY1rcQNB3wUv17FyvFkjxj6-ZEVWvm0RD11CtqPRjKSmYgkkJfANQYVvWfbjhcews6HCC5ziIur3SO3A56nRVgvm4/s1600-h/apple+bushels.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfQo4lZ-v12nxoszLLJGYRq43spxXqgRlmPkSvEZoamBEPJe24x6JY1rcQNB3wUv17FyvFkjxj6-ZEVWvm0RD11CtqPRjKSmYgkkJfANQYVvWfbjhcews6HCC5ziIur3SO3A56nRVgvm4/s320/apple+bushels.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256786455907590898" /></a><br />I also made my own applesauce! A couple weekends ago, I went with my family to pick apples at this cute little farm in Draper. We brought home 3 bushels of red and golden delicious apples for a really reasonable price, and the best part is that the farm doesn't spray with pesticide, so the applesauce is totally safe for my baby to eat (what's that you say? I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">still</span> haven't blogged about the baby? Patience, little ones). We decided that last Saturday during conference would be the perfect time to cook, process, and bottle our creation. Bad idea, by the way. Never plan a large scale cooking or craft project during conference if you had planned on listening to it. Don't even worry, we also made that mistake during the Relief Society general meeting. Anyway, back to the story. So my mom and my sister and I gathered together and what we made was pure magic. It was so easy, you just have to have the right equipment- like a special strainer that separates the stem, seeds, and peel from the flesh of the apple. It was a bit messy, so hopefully my mom won't remember that next year when it's time to bottle applesauce again! I feel so domestic these days.Marcihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05635511867271898414noreply@blogger.com4