Another Baby Story

A new baby seems like a pretty good reason to blog after it's been over a year, right?

We welcomed our little Lorelai (yup, we named another child after a television character) into the world on May 26th. I thought it would be a good idea to document the story of how we got her here-mostly for myself. So, if you want to delve into my personal life, please feel free to continue reading.

The differences between this pregnancy and last one were quite different. With Juliet I got pregnant very quickly, evidenced by the fact that I had a baby only 13 months after I was married.  My pregnancy was relatively unscathed (yeah, I had morning sickness, but other than that, things were pretty peachy as far as pregnancy goes), but my labor was a bit of a nightmare. In case you don't remember this charming tale, I pushed for 2 1/2 hours without my child even entering the birth canal. It wasn't fun. I ended up with a c-section- during which I could feel a lot "tugging and pulling but not pain" that felt pretty painful.  This pregnancy was pretty much the opposite in every way.

 I had "planned" for my first two children to be 3 years apart. Juliet turned 4 in April, so that obviously didn't work out quite as I had planned. When I did find out that I was pregnant, I started bleeding  (bad) the next week. I hadn't even been to see my midwife yet, and I was in complete panic. Daniel came home early and we went to the ER. ERs are often not very friendly places. You would think that they should be...but they aren't. After several hours and ultrasounds a doctor comes in and says that there is still a viable fetus, but my placenta had detached in several places and I could miscarry at anytime. I was given a bunch of papers telling me that I had a 50/50 shot of having a viable pregnancy and they sent me (still bleeding) on my way. I was told not to lift more than 10 pounds until I followed up with my midwife the next week. Daniel still had to work, but he was worried about me, so I spent the next few days being "babysat" by either my sister or my mother at their respective houses. When I did follow up with my midwife, my placenta had started to reattach in most areas, and she was very encouraging (plus a little bit angry at the way the ER handled the situation).

A few days after my first appointment I was called and told my blood-work was abnormal...great. Luckily this time it was an easy fix-I had hypothyroidism, which can be treated fairly easily with medication. I was a medicated mama now and although not eating for 30 minutes after taking the medicine in the morning was not great for the morning sickness, I'm glad it was found and found early so that baby wouldn't have any negative side effects (though I do wonder if it contributed to me taking longer to get pregnant in the first place). Also at my first appointment we decided we would be doing a repeat c-section. I thought I might want to try for a VBAC (vaginally birth after cesarean), but neither Daniel or I felt good about it. My midwife did say it was up to us, but recommended the c-section. We signed the paper and turned it in (yup, you have to sign a waiver declaring whether you want a repeat c-section or VBAC and that you understand the risks of each), c-section it was.

The rest of my pregnancy progressed pretty normally. I was sick in the beginning (with Juliet I puked...a lot, this time was more just a nauseated feeling that never really went away, with only occasional puking). I was tired and emotional, all the regular pregnancy things. Though I didn't actually gain any weight until about half way through, though that would not be an indication of things to come-I ended up gaining 40 pounds. Pretty early on my feet/ankles started to get a bit puffy. Soon my entire calves followed suit, and my face, and my fingers. My feet definitely received the worst of it though. For months the only shoes I have been able to wear are flip flops and slippers. I got some nifty compression socks that helped the swelling a bit, but they could only do so much. I was obviously holding a lot of water. They usually worry about your blood pressure when you have symptoms like that, and while mine was slightly elevated, it was nothing to be concerned about yet. My pressures were slightly elevated with Juliet as well, and they were watching everything else.

My c-section was scheduled to go down June 4th, that was when I would be 39 weeks, and I wanted to no longer be pregnant on my birthday (June 5th). Blue cheese had been calling my name for months,and I for sure wanted some on my birthday, therefore getting the baby out before then was a must. (Daniel studies microbiology, so he knows all about the foods pregnant people can't eat and why, so he watched me pretty close-not that I was trying to cheat or anything). On Saturday, May 23rd we were at the grocery store and Daniel had to go to the bathroom. Bored while waiting I decided to take my blood pressure and it was pretty dang high. I had my next appointment on Tuesday and I said to Daniel "if it is really that high on Tuesday, they might take the baby then." I didn't think that it would actually happen, but I kept the thought in the back of my mind. At my appointment, the blood pressure cuff refused to work about 3 times because it thought my pressure was too high. They also found a significant amount protein in my urine, and I had gained 7 pounds in less than 2 weeks. I knew it was bad. As soon as my midwife walked in the room, she looked at my chart and said "you are only two days shy of 38 weeks, I think that we should call it." After she ran my numbers past the doctor doing my c-section (she got to assist), it was determined that I was having a baby that day in order to avoid any complications that might come from my preeclampsia (the blood pressure, weight gain, protein, and swollen feet together mean preeclampsia).

Juliet and I headed to the car and I said "okay we have to go pick up daddy from work and then take you to Cole's house." She asked why and I responded "because we are having a baby today!" She was very excited and we rushed away. I got Daniel from work, we stopped at home for our already packed bags (we were much more prepared than with Juliet) and took Juliet to my sister's house. On the way to the hospital I was a little bummed-since I realized I hadn't seen Pitch Perfect 2 yet and I now I would probably have to wait until it came to video. We arrived right after another c-section had just checked in, so we had to wait a little while. I was pretty calm as they got me prepped and had me wait until the surgery room was ready.  This delivery was seriously a dream compared to Juliet's delivery. I felt a lot during Juliet's c-section and expected to feel something again, nope. I literally did not even know that they had started cutting and then boom, they popped a baby over the curtain. I did get a little cold and shaky, but other than that, it was great. I did have to go on Magnesium Sulphate (to prevent things like seizures from the preeclampsia) for 24 hours after Lorelai was born, which makes you feel a bit sick and out of it, but it was still a really easy delivery overall.

Lorelai weighed 6 lbs 10 oz when she was born, and measured 17.5 inches long. A little bit different than my Juliet that weighed 7 lbs 7 oz and measured 21 inches long. Juliet was born at 38 weeks 2 days, and Lorelai was born at 37 weeks 5 days, so it's not like Lorelai was that much earlier either. We are all very grateful for a healthy baby (even though she had a few rough days on the bililights after her levels were high and her weight had majorly dropped). I am doing really well and feeling really great (I don't think I  quite realized how bad the pregnancy was making me feel), but I am still taking it easy, I don't want to overdo it. I am so thankful for my beautiful baby and that we were both able to be safe in the end. It was a lot rougher than Juliet's pregnancy, but I still realize that I didn't have it too bad compared to what some other mothers go through for their little ones. We are both here, we are both healthy and safe, and that is all that matters to me in the end.

And look, pictures!




 

I'm back, and I'm here to say something that might shock and appall you. I'm not about to tell you that I murder puppies, though it has been related to that in the past. We don't do Santa.

"Gasp!" "Why would you do that!?" "What is wrong with you!?" These are all very real responses I have received after uttering that simple sentence. This is not a decision that was made lightly. It has been discussed, a lot, on multiple occasions. Most people simply do not understand why we would make this choice, while others proceed to tell me, to my face, why I am a bad parent. I don't expect everyone to agree with me, but I'm here to help people understand.

I liked Christmas as a child, but even as a teenager, I started to hate the commercialism of it all. I often tell people that I don't like Christmas, but that isn't entirely true. I don't like Christmas for what it is. I love Christmas for what it should be. I don't think that many people would disagree with me when I say that children are entitled now a days. I started to think of ways in which I could keep my children grounded, and focused on Christ, family, and the spirit of giving during the Christmas season. There was one thing I could that seemed simple: eliminate Santa Claus. When children know that their parents have to buy their presents, and that they have a budget, I don't think their expectations will be as high. It isn't about denying my children things, but simply teaching them that they will not always get what they want. No Santa seemed like a good way to teach them, but did I really want to eliminate him? I started to really, deeply, think about it.

Santa was never essential to me as a child. It was fun, yes, but Christmas itself is fun. Most of my childhood Christmas memories involve my family, and the things we did together, not Santa. I found out Santa wasn't real when I was seven, and Christmas was just as fun without him in it. My husband likewise found out about at a young age. Christmas was still fun for him as a child too, so I started thinking, hmmm, maybe Santa isn't essential for a good Christmas. I didn't want to berid Santa for those reasons alone, so I kept thinking, pondering, and discussing.

I like that Santa represents giving, but there are some realities about Santa that started to bother me. The myth tells that bad children are punished when it comes to gifts, but in reality, that isn't true. Bad children get presents; poor children do not. When I thought about this, it made me indescribably sad. I wasn't necessarily worried that my children would feel that they were bad and therefore didn't get presents, I was worried about other kids. If my kids saw that the children down the street didn't get presents, would they think they were bad kids?

I realized, that to me, having Santa was lying to my kids. I made the decision a long time ago, that I was going to be totally honest with my children. When they are old enough to understand, they will know about my eating disorder. I will answer honestly about the scars on my arms. This totally honest approach may not be the best approach, but it is the one I have chosen.  I have pretended to be someone I'm not before, and I don't want to do it again. In my mind, pretending to be Santa for my kids, was not being honest.

I realize that Santa is not about me, but it is about my kids, so I started to think how this decision would affect them. I went over all of the usual arguments. "They will have no imagination." You will stifle their creativity." "You will eliminate the magic of Christmas" I do not believe that Santa is necessary for imagination and creativity.  If this were the case, Jewish kids, and other cultures who do not celebrate Christmas, would never be imaginative or creative. My sister has some of the most imaginative and creative children I know, and they have never had Santa. It's fun to pretend and create, but I think it is also okay to know that the things we are pretending aren't real. Elmo, Spiderman, and Daniel Tiger,  are not real, but we have plenty of fun playing games and pretending with them.

I do not think that the magic of Christmas comes from Santa. I believe that the magic of Christmas comes from Christ.  The joy that Jesus was born on earth so that he could sacrafice for our sins,  and allow us to live with God again, is enough joy for me. I think not having Santa allows us to really focus on Christ, family, and the spirit of giving.

Do I think you are a bad parent if you do have Santa? Absolutely Not! It is not at all my intention to make people who do have Santa feel guilty. We discussed it a lot, we almost did Santa, but we decided against it. That doesn't mean that I am right. It doesn't mean that you are right. It just means that we decided to parent differently, and that is okay. I respect your decision.  We will politely discuss with our children to not ruin it for your kids. I'm just a mom, trying to do the the best I can, and ask for your respect. Next time I say "We don't do Santa." I hope you will say something like: "Oh.", "That's different",  "Can you help me understand why you decided that?"

I like...

I've been getting very annoyed at things lately. I partially blame the election; it brings out the crazy in people. I've had to severely limit my Facebook and Pinterest time, because getting on them just makes me upset. I have thought about doing a rant-y blog post (I'm great at being rant-y), but figured that would probably just put me in a worse mood. I decided to instead take the high road and write a happy blog post. So instead of anger, you get a slightly incoherent jumble of things that I like.

I like tall girls that wear high heels, and short girls that wear flats. Not letting your height determine your shoe options is serious kudos in my book.

I like butternut squash. I'm obsessed. I think butternut squash should replace the whole pumpkin obsession everyone seems to have. (I am doing a butternut squash post on the food blog later. I know, I've been a little MIA, I'm trying to fix that).

I like my height. It always seems that tall people want to be short, and short people want to be tall, not me. I am happy at my 5 feet 2 inches. Yeah, I may need a foot stool to reach the top shelf, but I can still comfortably ride Puff at Lagoon.

I like eating with forks. Spoons are for soup, cereal, and ice cream, and sometimes I even attempt to eat those things with a fork.

I like hanging out with geeks. The more I interact with people, the more I realize how geeky I have become. Gaming tournament = Being with really nice, fun people. Story time at the library = Me questioning wanting to interact with people ever again.

I like spiders. I pick them up, let them crawl on me, and give them names. I don't pick up poisonous ones, so I'm not super crazy. I think spiders are awesome. They have such an elegance about them. They help kill all the stupid mosquitoes too; how could you not like that?

I like eating breakfast for dinner. French toast is probably one of my favorite dinners ever. Maybe I should make butternut squash french toast, that could be magnificent.

I like slobbery baby kisses, 6 am wake up calls, peanut butter hand prints, nap time tantrums, and crayon scribbles in my books. I like Juliet. But really, who doesn't?

Perceptions vs. Reality

Many of my readers should know that I cook, a lot. I like healthy and natural foods, which can be kind of expensive, so I make everything I can by scratch. I absolutely love doing it, and it helps us to eat better, while still sticking to a budget. At times, when people find out about all the different things I make, they are in awe. They put me on a pedestal and ask me how I accomplish so much (especially when it isn't summer and I have school). The way they talk makes me seem like an amazing, organized, and well put together person. When one of them pictures me in their mind, I feel like it would look a bit like this:

Sleek tied up hair. Clean, pretty clothes. Perfect batch of  (healthy) brownies.  Make up done and smiling. (Yes, Nicholle, that is your house).

Occasionally (very occasionally), that is what my life is like. I have everything together, and I seem utterly amazing. While it is nice to be thought of as this perfect entity, I'm here to tell you, that usually isn't the case. Yes, I do cook a lot, and I do make some things that are pretty difficult. I also consider myself to be a very good cook, and if those things make me amazing, then I guess I fit one of those earlier mentioned adjectives. I am not, however, very organized, well put together, or oft times, even sane. I cook like a tornado. Things are everywhere, utensils flying, sauces splashing, flour all over myself, and the baby. On big cooking days (days where I make a bunch of in advance things, such as bread, tortillas, pop tarts, bbq sauce, etc.), I often just stay in my pajamas, unless I need to go somewhere. Juliet likes to try to "help" me, which gets me frantic and makes things more difficult. More often than not, things look a bit like this:

Disheveled hair. Ruined brownies. No make up. Floury pajamas. Crazy baby and an "I'm going insane" face.

Usually, my food does turn out right (more often than I would like to admit though, it doesn't). Other than that, the picture above is bundles more accurate than the first one. I love all the cooking I do, but it is hard, and I do go crazy at times.

So, next time you hear me talking about the amazing things I have made, think of this picture of me going insane, and you will remember I'm not some sort of alien. If you don't care about this kind of thing, and just want to see pictures Juliet, scroll down. I did a cute picture post right before this one.

Juliet is Cute

I haven't updated for awhile, and just thought I would post a few pictures of my cutie, enjoy.

Ode to a Princess

My beautiful Juliet turned one year old last Sunday, April 22nd. I have been wanting to do a birthday post for her for the past week and a half, but I couldn't decide how I wanted to do it. Did I want to talk about how awesome she is; did I want to just post pictures? Then finally, it came to me. There are two ways in which I feel I express my feelings the best. The two ways are cooking, and poetry. Since I can't send everyone a fortune cookie with a saying about and picture of Juliet inside (well, I guess I COULD, but it would be a lot of work), I decided on the latter. There are cute pictures of her after the poem, so, if you aren't the sentimental type, you can  scroll down to look at her adorable-nes. Here is my ode my princess.

One year doesn't really seem like much,
It's such a short span of time,
Just one sand in the hourglass,
Since you came to earth as mine.

Less than five percent of my life,
Has been spent taking care of you,
But you have changed who I am,
And I want to say, thank you.

I know that you cannot read,
And when you can, you might not care,
About some silly poem your mom wrote,
Before you even had much hair.

But, I want you to know I love you,
That you teach me more each day,
That I believe you are an angel,
That God has sent my way.

You have so much personality,
You are sweet, and you are smart,
You can tell when someone else is down,
Because you have such a big heart.

You are loud, and you are messy,
Your antics can drive me up a wall,
But you wouldn't be who you are,
If you didn't do them all.

One year really isn't very long,
But it's enough for me to know,
That I have a huge responsibility,
In helping you to grow.

You may not actually be royalty,
But you are a princess in my mind,
You have mounds of potential,
You are clever, beautiful, and kind.

I don't know what I did to deserve
Such an amazing girl to love,
Being your mother is such a gift,
You're my angel from above.

Now for you viewing pleasure, A picture from every month of Juliet's life. (Nicholle-I couldn't find a November, so I stole one from your blog.)

Sometimes I wonder.

Many different things pass through my mind, and sometimes the things really get me thinking. I decided to compile a list of my wonderings as of late.

• Sometimes I wonder if people realize that the appropriateness of their statements depends on their audience.Things that could be perfectly fine in some situations, aren't really appropriate in other situations. Example: The myriad of people that tell me "We have to wait until we are done with school to have kids." That would be fine if you were talking to someone else, but to me, that translates into: "You and your husband aren't finished with school, and therefore should not have had your baby." I know they most likely don't mean that, but it's hard to not feel like they do.
  
• Sometimes I wonder if anyone paid attention in health class. I overhear people talking about their new "healthy" diet plans, and want slap people in the face. Eating only vegetables, or eating protein bars instead of meals are not healthy alternatives. I have overheard those and many other crazy ideas. Some of the conversations I have overheard happened on Weber State's campus; that is just sad.
  
• Sometimes I wonder why people think it is okay to post things online that they would never do/say in person. I don't mean things that are better translated to text; I post things of that caliber. Sometimes I am much better able to express my feelings through writing. That doesn't mean that it isn't something I wouldn't be perfectly comfortable talking about in person. Example: the bra color for breast cancer posts on Facebook a year or so ago. I honestly do not believe that most of the people who did these posts would be willing to discuss their bra color, in person, to everyone on their contact list.
  
• Sometimes I wonder if blogging is even worth it. Specifically the food blog. I had a poll that 6 people voted on...6 people, and one of them was me. Does anyone even make the recipes? Well, besides my sisters? If they are the only ones, I could just give them recipes. All the good food blog have awesome pictures. I forget to take pictures a lot of the time. Even when I do take pictures, I don't have a fancy camera like everyone else...blah. I'll probably keep it up, I just wonder why at times.
  
• Sometimes I wonder if I'm just blinded by mother love, or if Juliet is really the prettiest baby ever.(I thought I would end on a happy note) Considering I can't walk out the door without hearing "Her eyes are gorgeous!" or "She is so beautiful!", I'm going to say that it is at the very least a combination of the two. My friend Savanna was in town this past weekend (which was awesome!) and she even mentioned that the baby gets compliments everywhere we go. Maybe people compliment all babies...I don't know. Either way, I think she is pretty awesome.

My Food Philosphy

Juliet had her 9 month appointment day. She is still quite small, less than 3rd percentile in weight. Because of this, the pediatrician told me to add butter to her food. Instead of going on a long rant about why I think that is a bad idea (which I originally planned and had typed out), I'm instead going to talk about why I feed my baby the way I do.

Juliet is small, but she is in no way underfed, she eats a lot of food (Three meals a day, consisting of two or three good sized bowls of food, plus 4-5 breast feedings, and occasional cheerio snacks). She eats all kinds of foods, fruits, vegetables, grains, beans, meat. There are, however, a lot of foods that I won't let her have (butter being one of them). I have taken several nutrition classes in college (a post is coming later about my new choice of major), one of them being prenatal and infant nutrition (conveniently taken when I was pregnant).  I have learned about foods we should feed babies, and foods we should not. I fairly strictly adhere to the principles I have learned. At times, I even feel like a bad mother because of my rules. People offer things to Juliet, and I respectfully decline, only to have them give me appalled faces and choruses of "Why not!?". I have a more in depth knowledge of nutrition than most people have, and that definitely contributes, but there are deeper reasons for my food Nazi ways. 

I have a history of eating disorders, and that will affect my children, specifically my girls. Not because I am a bad example (I work hard everyday to make sure I'm not a bad example), but because it is a disease that tends to run in families. Simply having me as mother, puts my children at a greater risk. I want to do everything in my power to prevent my children from developing eating disorders, and I believe the first step is building good nutrition stepping stones. From a young age I want my children to enjoy eating nutritious foods. I want them to learn to enjoy things without added salt, sugar, and butter. I want them to gain the knowledge they need to be healthy. I believe that I can start building that knowledge now, when my child is only 9 months old.

Don't get me wrong, I am not against cookies or crackers. I eat them, and Juliet will eat them...when she gets older. I want to teach her to like other kinds of foods, before I introduce her to more unhealthful options. I want her learn that eating healthy can be just as fun and enjoyable as eating cake and candy, so that when the time comes, she may very well pick an apple instead. I want her to not feel guilty about what she eats, not constantly worrying about calories and nit picking over her pants size. If I want that to happen, I have to teach her. I have to teach her to like nutritious foods. I have to teach her that eating right makes you feel good. That if you enjoy eating nutritious foods throughout the day, you don't feel guilty when you eat a brownie at the end of the night. I have to teach her, and I believe that I need to start now.

Juliet will have butter(and cake, candy, etc.), when the time comes. As for now, she is going to learn to enjoy other foods, as her first stepping stone towards good nutrition.

Disclaimer: This is what is right for me, and my family. You may choose differently for yours. I am not trying to make anyone feel guilty or tell them they are wrong. I just wanted to share why I feed my baby the way I do.

UPDATE: In case some of you are worried that Juliet isn't getting enough fat, fear not, I'm giving her fat, just in much healthier forms than butter, such as avocados and olives.

I think we should celebrate.

In case you didn't know, Today is *deep breath* Dr. Rev. Martin Luther King Jr's Birthday (Observed), better known as Martin Luther King Jr. Day. It is my absolute favorite holiday, and yes, I am serious. It seems like a strange holiday to be a favorite, I know. Really, not much happens, but kids get the day off school, and adults gets the day off of work...or as I found out today, some of them do. People have different opinions on whether today should be one that is taken off. Some say children should be school to learn about the great man that this holiday celebrates, others, like myself, take a completely different stand. Instead of trying to explain it to individuals, I thought I would explain it here, to everyone at the same time.

I believe children should learn about equality in school. I believe that they should learn what Martin Luther King Jr. did to push equality forward. I think they should be taught about his speech. I believe they should be taught about what happened after the speech. I think that children should learn about how far we have come, and far we still have to go. I do NOT think this learning needs to happen ON Martin Luther King Jr. Day.

Children learn about Independence day, and they learn about Thanksgiving. These are both major events that happened in our country's history. They are important to learn, but does this mean children should be in school on those days to learn about them? I don't think so. We take those days off to celebrate. We celebrate their significance and how they have helped to form our great country. We light fireworks; we eat turkey. We spend time with our families. Why? Because they are worth celebrating. They are worth taking the time off to make them special, to help our children know that these days mean a lot. Why should Martin Luther King Jr. Day be any different? Shouldn't we take the time to make the day special and different?

Most people just take Martin Luther King Jr. Day as a Monday off. A day to stay in pajamas and watch TV. If that is how we are going to look at the day, of course children should be in school. You aren't making it special, you aren't showing them how important the day is. I think we should celebrate. We should spend time with family and friends. We should talk about how far our country has come. We should talk about what we can do to keep moving forward. We should eat multi-colored foods, we should watch movies that show equality. We should strive to make this a day our kids remember. A day they enjoy and want to know why we have it.

You have your opinions, and I have mine. As for me, I will be celebrating! In fact I've already made cookies:

P.S. I think other holidays are unappreciated too, but this being my favorite, I thought I would stand up for it.

Mirror Baby

Juliet likes to sit in the sink and chat with the baby in the mirror while I get ready. Of course, she got distracted by other things when I tried to record it...but it's still cute, or at least I think so.

I hope she has my eyes.

It's midnight and my mind is buzzing; it's time for a blog post!

When people imagine their children, they often picture how they will look and what sort of personality they will have. Most people expect their children to possess traits similar to their own. Good qualities are wished for and bad ones are wished against. I've been thinking about the traits I possess recently. Maybe it's because the new year gets us thinking about what we want to improve. Maybe it is simply because I have been quite reflective lately. Who knows. There are many traits I have that I would love my children to develop, and there are a good amount of traits I hope they aren't cursed with. Want to know what some of these things are? Read on!

Qualities I have that I would be glad to see my children possess:

• Cooking skills- In the age of processed food, cooking is going to become more and more rare, and I find that sad.
• Aspects of my OCD- Being organized is a good thing. 
• A decent grasp on grammar concepts- I refuse to 'chatspeak', 'textspeak', or any other concept of the sort. Real words are happy things.
• Conversation skills- I can talk to people when needs be. Sometimes I have to push myself to do, such as over the phone, but I can be an interesting conversationalist, at least in my opinion.
• A desire to to good- I just want to help people. I don't always do everything I should to help, but I would like to make a difference.
• Honesty- I don't like to lie to people. Honestly is really the best policy. 
• Rule following- I don't put my hands up on roller coasters. I don't drive higher than the speed limit. Call me crazy, but I honestly believe we have rules for a reason.

Qualities I have that I hope I don't pass on to my children:

• Aspects of my OCD- Yes, this is on both lists. Organized is good, but I can take things too far. 
• Yo-Yo self esteem- Sometimes I love myself, and sometimes I completely hate myself. I realize most people probably do this, but I'm seriously all over the place.
• Intermittent shyness- I go through stages where I'm much more shy than I should be. I'm not naturally a shy person, but sometimes I make myself be shy...it's hard to explain.
• Phobias- I would like to think of myself as fearless, but I'm definitely not. I have panic-attack inducing fears, not fun. 
• Bluntness-This goes hand in hand with the honesty on the other list, I'm sometimes a bit more frank than is desirable. At times it's good, at times it is very, very bad.
• Cynicism- I tend to think everything is bad and evil. I should try to see more happy things in the world.

There are probably more qualities I didn't state, for both lists, but you get the point. I want my children to be like me...but not too much like me.

 And, I do hope the next one has my eyes.

P.S. Juliet's first Christmas went well, but everyone blogs about Christmas.

I am Thankful

Thanksgiving is almost upon us, and with it being one of my favorite holidays, a thankful post is much needed...Becky Style.

I am thankful for a husband that gets mad at me sometimes. A good friend once told me that while I am not a very emotional person (except when I was pregnant), I can be, what he called "hard to deal with". I am not about to deny that fact. I can get absolutely frantic, completely crazed...you get the idea. Often times what I need in these situations is a swift kick in the pants. Daniel is just the pants kicker I need, sensitive when needs be, but willing to be tell me when I need to knock it off.

I am thankful for a daughter that is very often cranky. She is a happy baby, if she has your constant attention. Trying to accomplish things can be, at the very least, frustrating. She constantly tests my patience. I am grateful for the patience I am gaining, but most of all I am glad that her crankiness helps me to keep my priorities straight. Family should come first, and when she screams as I try to do the laundry (or other things), it reminds me of that fact.

I am thankful  for a best friend that lives nearly 200 miles away from me. Since Savanna and I became friends, she has lived both near and far. All over Utah, and several places in Idaho. At times we go long stretches without seeing one another. It is sad and I miss her often, but I am grateful that through the distance we remain close. The mileage just helps me realize what a great friendship we have. (She is, however, visiting this Saturday, and I am sooo excited!)


I am thankful that I am poor. Soon after finding out I was pregnant, I quit my job. I know many people thought I was crazy. Who quits a job right as you need more money? Money is tight at times, and sometimes it stresses me out, but I am so grateful that instead of  working and having a cushion of money, I get to spend my days with a beautiful baby princess.
 

I am thankful that people don't always like me. I can, as I have mentioned, be hard to deal with. I can also be fairly blunt and opinionated. Not everyone gets along with me, and I am grateful for that. It makes me realize how many people I have in my life who love me, for me, personality flaws and all. 

I am thankful that we must live with the consequences of our decisions. I know that our sins can be forgiven, because of the atonement, and I am so grateful for that, but I am also grateful that our consequences don't just go away. I have learned a lot of things from mistakes I have made. I am thankful I made those mistakes, and I am thankful for the lessons the consequences have taught me. I would not be who I am without every one of them.

I am thankful that my plans don't work out the way I want them to. I like to make plans. I am not one of those spur of the moment type of people. Even small changes can make me frantic. We all make plans for our life, and quite often those plans don't turn out. My life is nothing like I planned, and while plans being changed would normally throw me into a hissy fit, I am grateful. I know that this plan (God's plan), is better than mine could have ever been.


I am thankful for opposition. After all, isn't that what this whole post has been about? I am grateful and things aren't easy. I am thankful that I have trials. This is what life is about, working through the hard things. The tests which we will feel the best about passing, are the ones that really made us work. Life is a test, the greatest test of all. One, that if we pass, will bring us everlasting joy. I am grateful it is tough, it means the payout will be great. I am thankful for opposition, for if we can get through it, we can live with God again.


I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Ladder Day Saints. This post reflects my beliefs. If anyone who reads this would like to learn more, visit mormon.org.

All Hallows Eve

Halloween has come and gone. :( I must say, I'm a little sad it's over. Since it was Juliet's first Halloween, we had to make sure she did all the normal Halloween traditions.

She decorated a pumpkin.

Yes, I did dip my six month old's hands in paint.

She wore Halloween clothes.

You've seen her like this before, but it's still cute.

She ate orange food.

Eating carrots for the first time on Halloween.

And she dressed up as a terrifying monster.

Cultist mommy and daddy with Cthulhu Juliet.

Cutest scary monster ever? It's quite possible. Everyone loved Juliet's costume. I'm sure most people had no clue who she was supposed to be, but she looked cute. I better start coming up with a creative idea for next year. I refuse to be run-of-the-mill when it comes to costumes. Until Juliet can say "I want to be a princess.", she plays by my rules. Some may say I'm crazy, but who else has an awesome Cthulhu baby? Until next year, Happy Halloween!

P.S. More pictures to come to Facebook.

Juliet has cereal

I've been planning to start Juliet on cereal at 6 months. She has been quite interested in food for awhile now, reaching towards everything we eat, driving my family crazy (since we are currently living with them). I'm going to be pretty strict about giving my baby food, because of my many nutrition classes. I did, however, give in and let Juliet have cereal a whole SIX days earlier than I planned, mainly so Daniel could be there for her first time.

Juliet thought food was fantastically awesome. Pictures? Why yes, I do have pictures.

We weren't fast enough, so she tried to take over.

This is my favorite.

On a non-cereal related topic-My sister mentioned that she has more cute Juliet pictures on her blog than I do on mine, whoops. So here are some other random pics of my cutie.

I thought Juliet was ready to wake up for the day, apparently not.

Aren't those lips just so kissable?

Wishing Daddy's friend Trevor a Happy Birthday.

Starting new baby trends of only wearing one sleeve.

As of August 22, 2011...

School started

AND

Juliet turned 4 months old!

We know that 4 months is a little young to start school, but in this day in age you have to start your kids out early if you want them to be a success.

Alright, Juliet isn't actually going to school; Daniel and I are. Daniel is a full time (12 credit hours) student/full time employee, because he is awesome. I am a full time mommy/part time (9 credit hours-online) student, because I get stressed out easily and didn't want to overload myself. I guess you could say that Juliet is going to school, since she watches my lectures with me, sits with while I'm reading my books, and gives me screams of encouragement during quizzes. School and a baby is going to prove to be most interesting. Though, I must say, I am extremely grateful for the online option. Juliet is so sweet, I would have a hard time leaving her. (A really hard time, the little stink won't take a bottle).

Speaking of Juliet, did you hear she is 4 months old now!? Crazy isn't it? She is still pretty little (11 pounds, exactly, at her appointment last Tuesday), but getting smarter and cuter all the time. She is ahead of the game as far as milestones go. The doctor was impressed by her amazing rolling skills. She reaches out to grab things now too, like the doctor's stethoscope that she grabbed and put in her mouth. That could possibly be the cause of her runny nose this week..who knows where that thing has been.

So, in case any of you are thinking: "Oh great, school started, the already neglected food blog will become even more neglected". To the contrary dear friends, I cook MORE when I'm stressed out.

Scrambled Thoughts

Remember how I am on a Facebook fast? It's going well. I haven't even been tempted to cheat or anything. (I did log on once, for about 30 sec to cancel e-mail updates from a group, I had over 200 e-mails because of it; it was a necessary action). I do, however, have a few things floating in my mind that probably would have ended up on there had I not been fasting. Soooo, the thoughts get to end up on here instead.

Juliet has become a master rolling machine. For those of you who don't know, Juliet has HATED tummy time. She would scream like it was the worst possible thing I could ever do to her. Since she can roll now, it's no longer a problem. I put her on her tummy and she rolls over while giving me a look as if to say "ha ha mommy, I'm in control now!" She will even roll onto her stomach and be okay with it for a while. When she gets fed up, she just rolls over again. It is beautiful.

Today, as you can see above, Juliet rolled underneath the bouncy chair. That takes talent my friends.

An update about the honey burn: It's really just my thumb that is burnt, with a few tiny splash mark burns elsewhere. I have one large blister and 3 or 4 small ones. I think it's a combination of 1st, 2nd, and 3rd degree burns, mostly 1st. The 3rd degree is only a tiny portion on my knuckle where I don't have feeling anymore. It's is my left thumb, so I have been able to most everything normally. I'm hoping the scar looks cool and I am able to use it as a kitchen safety story in the future.

Juliet was blessed on Sunday. I made a pasta trio for the after party. I almost made a 4th pasta. It's a good thing I didn't. Daniel took the last of the leftover pasta to work today. There weren't a ton of leftovers, but enough for us to live off of for the past few days. It was delicious by the way, if you didn't come, you missed out.

I added Daniel as a contributor. Has anyone noticed that? Post comments encouraging him to write something awesome! It should prove to be most entertaining. (Especially after this post, which was pretty boring. Besides the cute baby picture, who could think that is boring!?)

It could have been way worse.

I'm going on a Facebook fast this week. I've done it before, so I can do it again. It's just nice to take a break sometimes. Does that mean more blogging will happen? Yup, hopefully on both blogs.

Had I not been on a Facebook fast, I probably would have posted a status saying:
I just burnt my hand with boiling honey.

Since I am on a Facebook fast, you good people get the whole story instead.

Monday is my bread baking day. (Well, usually every other Monday). I started to make my honey whole wheat bread, but I didn't have very much honey. The honey I did have was crystallized. Honey is literally the only food that will never spoil. When it crystallizes, all you need to do is heat it up a little and you are good to go. I made a few mistakes heating my honey. I heated it too long, to the point that it was boiling, and then I tried to open the honey bottle...bad idea. Apparently boiling honey explodes everywhere when the top is open.

Boiling honey spewed all over me and my kitchen. I screamed (it was really freakin' hot), ran to the sink and washed my hand in cold water. I think I acted quick enough that the burn won't be too bad, though it is still a little early to tell. I thought my thumb had taken the brunt of the explosion, until I woke up Daniel.

I had started looking in my first aid kit for something to help burns. when I say (yell) to Daniel to wake up because I burnt my hand with honey. He looks at me concerned and says "Did you burn anything else?" "Uh, no." "Okay, good." He went and took care of the screaming baby while I found and applied some weird burn thing. I dropped something, so I looked down to get it and discovered I was completely covered in honey. No wonder Daniel thought I burnt more than just my hand.

I'm sitting here, typing one-handed while Daniel finishes the bread ( He didn't know how to knead, that was pretty funny),  just being grateful that it wasn't any worse. Juliet was no where near the explosion, and even though my hand is burnt, the rest of me isn't, even though the honey was everywhere.

I wanted a boy, but I needed a girl.

Reader Beware: this one is lengthy and revealing (not the naked kind of revealing, get your mind out of the gutter, sheesh) .

For as long as I can remember I have wanted my children to be boys. Strapping young men to help with the myriad of animals I wish to someday acquire . Some people might question why I would want boys over girls, but I have several reasons.

I grew up in a family of five. Three girls, and two boys. My two sisters are the eldest, followed by my two brothers. We aren't one of those " a kid every two years" families, so my sisters are approximately 11 and 13 years older than I am. My brothers however are only 5 and 3 years older than I. I love my sisters, but I mostly grew up with my brothers. You get used to being with what you grew up with, and I grew up with boys, so I wanted to have my own.

My eldest sister was married a few months before I turned 9, and they welcomed their first child, a boy, 13 months later. Two years later they had a second child, another boy. My first baby experiences were with those two little guys. Once again, you want what you know, so there's another point towards wanting boys.

I've never been great at comforting people...and well girls tend to be emotional. Need I say more?

There are probably more reasons, but I think you get the point. I have always wanted boys. Remember this post? I even thought Juliet was a boy. However, I am in no way disappointed that my first child is the opposite gender of what I have wanted for years. One reason for this being that the more I think about it, the more I realize that while I wanted a boy, God knew I needed a girl and let me tell you why.

Not too many years ago (though sometimes it feels like a lifetime) I had a bit of a mental breakdown. A breakdown that lasted far too long, for no real reason. I had terrible body image, terrible self worth and horrible depression. I fell into some pretty bad habits during this time, habits that are hard to shake. Many of you may know, and many of you may not, that an eating disorder was developed during this time. Eating disorders are not something that are easily taken care of, and many people who have them will tell you that they are a lifelong disease. Even when I am doing well, the thoughts still haunt me.

God knows all of our struggles, and he knew mine. He knew even though I had control of the monster (instead of it controlling me), that I needed a little push to keep me strong. Strong enough to be able to resist the little voice that comes calling telling me to put down the fork and walk away. God knew that best thing he could do for me was to have my first child be a daughter instead of a son.

I never want Juliet to feel the way I did. I want her to think highly of herself. I want her to be happy with herself. I never want her to think she needs to lose weight to be beautiful, or that she has to fit in a certain dress size before prom. In order for this to happen, I need to be her example. I need to not care about my pants size, or what weight I am at, as long as I am healthy.

God knew that a daughter was the one thing that would keep me constantly motivated to resist temptation. He knew I needed a girl as my first child so that I would stay strong post-pregnancy when I realized I would probably never fit in my pants again, because my body had changed. He knew a daughter would help me in ways I could never imagine.

I am so glad that God does not give us what we want, but instead gives us what he knows we need. I may have wanted a boy, but I know now that I needed a girl.

My baby is skinny.

Juliet had her 2 month check-up today. It would have been last week, but our Doctor was on an Alaskan Cruise or something to the sort. Her stats were as follows:
Height 22 1/4 in-30th percentile
Weight: 9.75 lbs (9 lbs, 12 oz)-25th percentile
Head circumference: 38 cm-25th percentile

The only one that surprises me is the height, her legs seem so long. That must just be where all her height is, like me. Tiny torso. Her weight and head being a little on the small side seems right. She looks skinny. Doctor said her growth is great, she just happens to be on the smaller side of things, but have you seen Daniel? He is pretty skinny (and he complains he has a tiny head..).

This appointment was also our first set of shots (besides the one they gave her in the hospital). She has been a champ so far. I think she cried more because she was mad that she was naked than because of the actual shots. She did wake up from a nap screaming. I figure her legs hurt. It has totally got to be worse for the skinny babies whose little legs don't have as much fat for the giant needles to penetrate.

When the Doctor was checking her, she complimented Juliet's head shape, said she could tell we gave her plenty of tummy time. Other people have complimented her head shape too. I really think most of that is the fact that she was excised instead of pushed out.

It's hard to believe that my baby is over 2 months already. The doctor said that too. She knows us pretty well, since she was my pediatrician from the time I was about 5. Anyway, enjoy this picture of my pretty baby.

All ready for my cousin's wedding reception.

Like Mother like Daughter version 2.0

Baby Burrito

Mommy Burrito

Daniel thought it would be fun to wrap me like he does the baby. I begrudgingly let him. The baby burrito is much more adorable, plus she actually likes it in there. Not having access to your arms and legs isn't fun for adults.