Saying Goodbye to Utah

Shark and I decided to go with Daddy to Arkansas (you probably know that now). It was a hard decision and a tearful goodbye to my family. Tearful might not describe it well enough. I tried not to let Bear see me struggling because I wanted him to know I supported him and that I WANTED to go with him wherever life took us. But he noticed. Duh. I hope it wasn't too discouraging for him. We drove to Utah where we gathered our belongings out of storage and spent a couple of days saying goodbye to family and friends.

We're going to miss our little buddy, Cooper. And he'll probably miss using Sharky as a punching bag.

Bear, me, and my friend Lisa took the boys on the Front Runner (train) from Provo to Salt Lake. It was awesome. I'm sad to leave before I get any good use out of it. 

Shark insisted on jumping off the ledge onto the tracks. He was pretty upset when he found out that wasn't allowed. 

This is not our train, but I thought the mountains looked gorgeous all covered in snow and I wanted to remember them.

These two were heavily flirting with the grandma sitting behind us

Baby buns in jeans...need I say more?

We went to City Creek Center for lunch and spent a little while in the play area of the food court. I've never seen Shark play in a public place with other children and he it made me so happy to see him having so much fun. 

Bear enjoyed it just as much. 

He likes showing people his tongue. And it's pretty long. 

Drum Roll Please

Not one minute after I clicked publish on the stressful post about being jobless and homeless Bear got an offer from IBM in Minnesota. Sweet, we had something. I was ready to quit waiting around for other jobs and just jump in and take it right then. BUT I'm glad we waited because a few days later he got an even better offer from Lockheed Martin in Arkansas! He'll be a controller in the High Altitude Missile department with security clearance level "Secret" which is just below "Top Secret" and kind of a big deal, I guess. So there we have it, a job. I've always considered myself pretty adventurous and I thought I would love to pick up and move to another state, just me and my man, and it would be awesome! And it probably will be awesome but now that it's actually happening I'm terrified. I come from a very sheltered place. I don't know what the rest of the world is like and it intimidates me. Which brings me to my current reason for anxiety..

I'm having a baby in 9 weeks, which is still a while but also is coming very fast. Bear will start work on or around February 18 at which point I will have only 6 weeks to go. I know that I am still allowed to travel at that point (right?) but this is a 26 + hour drive and I don't think my sausage toes and cankles could take it. They would swell to (even more) outrageous proportions and maybe never recover...Not to mention poor Sharky-pants stuck in a car for 3 days. And when we get there we'll have to search for a place to live.

Before Bear got this job offer I decided to stay in Idaho until the baby is born. I have found a doctor here, I'm registered at the hospital, my paper work from my Utah doc has all been transferred here. I stay here and relax, spend time with my family that I am about to leave, have a baby (Bear will be in attendance, hopefully) and meet Bear in Arkansas where he already has a home for us and has fallen into the groove of his new job (he's nervous, loads of new info and grown up shtuff to deal with). That sounds like a solid plan right?

BUT now my hubs, love of my life, is leaving me in 2 weeks and I am back to panic/anxiety mode. I was feeling good and prepared here in mom and pop's basement but I don't want to be without him for the next 2-3 months. So should I stay or should I go?! My fam is definitely pushing for me to stay, they want to get their hands on this precious baby girl bundle before we up and disappear into our new, foreign world. I'm not sure if they are even giving me the option of going. But being the adult that I have now blossomed into, I am free to do as I please. And half of me pleases to go with my husband and set up my house as fast as I can and get ready for baby, other half of me thinks it's way too much work. Not to mention where we are moving to is a pretty small po-dunk (is that a word) town and I don't know how close a hospital is that I would even want to have a baby at.

So I'm asking, what would YOU do? I've got to decide fast. And if you tell me to stay then you better be visiting me here in Idaho and showering me with goodies and well wishes and company to stave off my loneliness. Also, I don't want to hear any red neck comments from my fellow Idahoans, come on, we're from Idaho! If that's not the kettle calling the pot black, what is?

There we are, way down in the south of Arkansas. Weather is nice! I assume. I can only tell you what I have learned through my Google search of the state. Home of Bill and Hilary Clinton and Walmart, largest producers of rice, cotton, and diamonds in the US.




P.S. I am really happy that we got a great job and it's a huge load off the shoulders. I am excited about going to a new place and being a great friend and missionary to my new neighbors. I know Heavenly Father is sending us there for a reason and I am so grateful for the opportunity. I promise.

Call Me Crazy

Being a mom turns your crazy. It's inevitable and it's true. I see crazy three different ways. The first kind of crazy is awesome. You sing silly songs, dance like a maniac, talk in creepy voices, end all your words in ie and so forth. It's fun. Your kid laughs and you smile. Your husband laughs too but for different reasons. You're really just a nut.
The less glamorous kind of crazy makes you do things like pick a turd up off the floor with your bare hands, pick boogers and wipe them on your jeans, find yourself walking around the house everyday without a bra on etc. etc. It makes you like the smell of your kids breath and change poopy diapers in the pew during sacrament meeting.
But the really ugly kind of crazy makes you cranky. You're frazzled and exhausted and just plain mean! That part of crazy has been really hard for me to swallow. Let me tell you why.

When I was in high school I did a lot of shtuff. I played every sport, joined clubs, and sang in our awesome high school a Capella choir. I was okay at a lot of shtuff, but I was never the "star", you know? I did pretty well and I had a lot of fun. But I was kind of the behind the scenes gal. Necessary, but not the exciting part. So at a very young age that I won't admit I started thinking about having children. I wanted to find my thing, The thing I really excelled at and impressed people with. So I decided then and there that I was going to be a stellar mom and people would gawk and applaud and award me for it. I don't know what made me think I would be a pro mom. I don't cook anything well, I'm not all that organized and I'm certainly not very creative when it comes to thinking up fun activities for us to do. But I can love. I knew then and I know now I can love a child so hard that they have no choice but to love me back :)  That qualifies as a super mom right?

It's partly competitiveness and mostly pride but I hate getting unsolicited mommy advice because I think I can do it already. I prefer to google things and any hard lessons to be learned I like to learn on my own. Mostly because I tend to think that a lot of the hard stuff about raising kids isn't that hard. But it is. And I hate to admit defeat but being a new parent is tiring and messy and sometimes it's down right ugly. I want so badly for Oliver to start walking and give me a break from all the toting and every mom that hears me say that insists that it's way worse when they are walking. That's another one of those lessons I'll have to learn on my own folks, because these pregnant hips can't take it anymore. Plus, this kid is such a dynamite climber already I don't see how it can get worse. Why do I do this? Why can't I learn from other mothers and not try to fight everything I'm told? It's because for some reason I think I'm a different kind of mom. A mom that can take the tantrums and disasters and let them roll off my back and say with a shrug, "he's just doing what kids do". And I think I have some special super human baby that behaves better and reaches milestones earlier than normal babies and we skip the hard parts. But I'm a regular mom who gets to the point of wanting to shake a baby almost daily and he's a regular kid who screams when he doesn't get what he wants. I hope I don't offend anyone and I hope I'm not the only crazy out there. I absolutely love my baby and my life right now is so amazing. It has more meaning now than ever before. But I have to stand before you all today and make my confession about being just like everyone else. It's hard.

I apologize for a heavy, personal post but I needed to confess and I don't have many readers anyway that will actually see it. But the ones I have I know and trust and love and they won't mind hearing about my momma struggles. They've got em (or will have them) too.

I can have mental break downs and still achieve Rock Star Mom status, right?

P.S. I'm still going to pretend that having and raising kids comes easy to me and that our life is candy canes and rainbows. Because it mostly is. Just not always. And I've never admitte that before.

Homeless

I didn't want to write this post until I had some direction in my life but that is taking longer than I had hoped. Austin graduated in December which was awesome and exciting but after graduation come the job hunt. And it's a very important hunt with a wife and two kids depending on you. He is still able to work for himself as he did to get himself through school, but it's a very slow part of the season and he spends a lot of time job searching and interviewing and doesn't get to spend a lot of time on work. Not working=no money. In case that wasn't connecting for you.

About two weeks before Christmas I thought, "hey let's save that money we are going to spend on rent in January and go to my parents house a little early." I thought for sure he would have a job in the beginning of January which would mean moving, and we were headed to Idaho for Christmas anyway so we would just pack up our apartment and say goodbye. I know it's only the middle of January now but boy has this month been so slow! Austin has been interviewing like a mad man since the beginning of the semester and it has only picked up since graduation but everyone takes so long to get back to you afterwards! He has had interviews for jobs in Phoenix, Arkansas, Minnesota, California, Texas, Boise, and all over Utah. And now we just wait.

It's stressful for me because I'd rather not have my baby in my parents basement. I still haven't pushed my pride out of the way enough to say that we are living with them, but rather, staying for a little while (with no place else to go). I know something good will come our way soon, I would just love to find out  if we were moving to Arkansas or Minnesota TODAY instead of in two more weeks. I'm starting to make doctor appointments for myself here in Idaho Falls but I haven't decided whether or not to stay and have the baby here. We are getting down to the wire. If Austin gets a job out of state and doesn't move until the end of February or start of March, I will probably be stuck here having the baby. Alone. But I really can't do it without him. I remember when Oliver was born it was months before I could go to the bathroom or shower and get dressed without Austin home to help me. I STILL can't get ready without Austin here to distract Oliver for me. I couldn't clean, I couldn't cook. I was useless. How can I do that all over again plus a toddler without Austin? I can't. My parents will be here to help and support but they both have full time jobs and aren't home all day.

I need advice. My parents are thinking, if Austin finds a job and moves away, it will be a very stressful time and he could go alone and get settled in to a new place and get comfortable with a new job without crying babies and a crying mom to add stress. They think I should definitely stay here, have the babe and meet him "out there" in a little while. They have offered me their master bedroom with rooms close enough for Oliver and baby to have their own space but still be near me. They are very accommodating and want to make the transition smooth and easy on us.

BUT I don't spend a lot of time away from Austin and when I do, I miss him terribly! I was recently away from him for about 4 days and I didn't think I was going to make it. Add on some crazy post baby hormones and this could get messy. I also can't decide if it would be easier to move when I am 32+ weeks pregnant or with a 5 week newborn. I just want so badly to be "home" and decorating a nursery and deep cleaning the house in prep for the new baby. It's extremely hard to nest when you are homeless. I feel pressure to decide right now if I am going to stay put and have the baby or if I am going to have her elsewhere. I want to have some things set in stone, like the hospital we will deliver at and the doctor that we'll see. Not to mention that no job means no health insurance for Austin and the babies. I have insurance through my mom which is a huge financial blessing but Oliver cost us a pretty penny to be brought into this world and I imagine new baby will too. So I'd like a job before the end of March, is that too much to ask? A home and a job and some insurance and a housekeeper and ......... the list could go on forever.

We will make it work and it will be awesome no matter what happens. But encouraging words and advice will help it be awesome sooner. This post really was supposed to be about Austin's new job and an exciting announcement of where we would be moving to. Bummer. Maybe next week? Or the next? It's coming. Soon. I can feel it.

1 Year

When Oliver was born he weighed 9 lbs 7 oz (82.27 percentile). He clocked in lengthwise at 22.5 inches (99.25 percentile). After a year of minimal bumps and bruising, no sickness, and learning 1,000,000 new tricks he weighs in at nearly 26 lbs (95.59 percentile) and almost 33 inches long (99.81 percentile). Can you imagine growing over 12 inches in just a year? That takes a lot of work. And a lot of new baby clothes. No wonder babies sleep so much (not always when you want them to, however). Let's put the giant-ness of my "little" boy into perspective here, out of 10,000 1 year old babies, only 19 would be taller than him. When we got home from the his doctor appointment Austin asked me, "would they know by now if he had Marfan Syndrome?" He's a dork.

Oliver is a huge source of joy and blessings in our home. His smiles and laughter are contagious. His mood really controls the rest of us. He loves to make you laugh. He acts like such a goof ball to get a chuckle out of you, which doesn't take much. He is climbing all over everything and consequently falling right back off. He is SO close to walking and my pregnant hips are counting down the days until they get a little time off. Not a lot of time, unfortunately. I have to write this post right now because he's actually been a little monster every night this week from about 3:45am to 5:45am, so I have to write about how great he is so I let go of my grudge.

He's a fantastic boy and he's going to be a fantastic big brother...eventually. He tends to maul little babies right now. They do look kind of like toys. Baby girl will probably spend a lot of her early life in a swing up on a table out of reach from our little hellion. I say that with love. I love watching him discover new things he can reach and new furniture he can climb on. I try to stay only a few steps behind so I can catch him if he slips from too high. I'm not always successful but he usually pops right back up after only a few tears. I love him.

Might I add that if new baby comes as early as Oliver did, 12 days, which the doctor told me was very likely, she will be here in only 69 days! 2 and a half months. And we are homeless...update soon on our crazy, unorganized living situation and unpredictable future.

Pretty and Pregnant: Heart Burn

When I was pregnant with Oliver I had crazy heart burn starting in the 3rd trimester. This time around, I have had heart burn the entire time. Before being pregnant I had never experienced heart burn before and the first time it happened I thought I was having a heart attack and called my doctor. It was pretty embarrassing. It was late at night and I made Austin call because I thought I was dying. He told me to take some Tums. Sorry to bother ya, doc! This time around I knew what was happening and I was sorely disappointed that it was happening so soon! I am still not successful at treating or preventing it so this post has no good advice. Just me complaining.

I do think it is time to do an update post on this pregnancy. Just this week I have noticed my tummy grow. It was suddenly difficult to shave my legs, put on shoes, climb back and forth from the front seat to the back seat in the car, etc. Over night I got uncomfortable. I'm not that uncomfortable yet, it just all came so suddenly and it brings on horrible memories of just how uncomfortable I'm going to be from here on out. My wedding ring doesn't fit on my sausage finger anymore, and I cannot cough, laugh, jump, sneeze, or think about any of the aforementioned acts without peeing a little. And I do Kegals! Well, kind of. They actually make me have to pee if I do them for too long.

Up to this point my pregnancy has been so incredibly easy that I forget that I am pregnant most of the time, besides being self conscious about my bod. I'm always worried when I go out in public that people can't tell I am pregnant, they just think I am fat. Which I am, but I want to use the pregnant excuse while I can. I'm carrying weird. Baby sits very high and I am gaining weight all over rather than all tummy. I was shopping for maternity clothes recently and the cashier actually asked me if I was expecting, I told her yes and she said, "I couldn't even tell!" Grreeattt... you think I'm a fat lady shopping at a maternity store because I like pants with stretchy waist bands. Fantastic. If you work at Motherhood Maternity, don't ask someone if they are pregnant. They are. And if they aren't, you are embarrassing them by pointing out that they are a non-pregnant person buying giant maternity clothes. Not cool.

Oliver is getting tougher and tougher to tote around on my hip and I get winded pretty easily carrying him up and down stairs. I'm glad to have Austin home for a bit helping me out. He's the bomb. Oliver is going to have a hard time with a new baby, I already know it. He is pretty rough with babies, he likes to maul them. And he is pretty selfish about his mamma. He still enjoys being held by me a lot. I try not to take that for granted however, because I know one day very soon he will not ever want to be held by mommy anymore so I am soaking up the time I have with him in my arms.

Here is an awkward tummy picture, I don't take a lot of these. Notice even my arm is gaining weight, no don't. But for documentation, and because I have a hard time doing a post without a picture, here she is:

And I can't leave out this beauty. Overalls and a tractor for Christmas from his Idaho grandparents! 

Happy Birthday to You!

Austin turned 25 years old on the 30th. He is sad to see 24 go. December is a loaded month for us and I  never want Austin to feel shafted or left out because he comes last in the month. So, we celebrated about 3 times. I always buy his Christmas and birthday presents at the same time and try to save the more impressive ones for his birthday. The problem with that is when Christmas rolls around I get so excited about his birthday presents I want to celebrate early and open them NOW! This year I got him some pretty boring basic stuff for Christmas (new dress socks, new dress shirt, pants, shoes etc.) and for his birthday he was getting a pretty sweet tool box and a gun. All of the brother in laws wanted to go shooting on Christmas day and really wanted me to give Austin his birthday gun. I did and he loved it SO much. We sang happy birthday to him and he opened up his new pride and joy. I actually felt bad at that point because we hadn't even sung to Oliver yet and it really was his birthday!

We celebrated again a few days later up at our cabin. We did some pretty great sledding, lit fireworks, sang to him again and ate a lot of ice cream. I gave him the tool box portion of his present at this point and he seemed to really like it. 

 Watching the show. Oliver was beyond terrified of the fireworks. He would lay on my shoulder and play dead for a few seconds right before he started kicking his legs like mad, as if he were trying to run away.

            I'm not good at photographing the actual fireworks. This is the closest picture I have.

                                                   Grandma doesn't look all that impressed.

 Early morning view of the lake, I love the pink sky as the sun was rising. Oliver gets us up early enough to witness these little everyday miracles, bless him. 

On his real birthday (Sunday) I kind of forgot about it until after church. I whipped up a little cake very similar to Oliver's birthday cake and told him to take his clothes off and eat it with his hands. He said no. So we sang to him again and had more cake and ice cream.

I had to make do with the candles that were hanging around in my mom's baking drawer. I came up with "13" and 12 other candles to equal 25. For some reason no one understood that. They kept looking at the cake and saying, "13? That's it? Isn't he 25?" Didn't they notice 12 other candles sticking out of that tiny cake? 

                                                                    Patiently waiting...

 Taste test...

...Approved.

 A few party guests