Madness of one kind or another

A tribute to my husband and his loves. Inspired by THIS YouTube clip, which was on THIS Politico post.

You Know You Love Your Child When...

I have always dreaded the day when my kid would throw up and I would have to clean up after her. Throw up makes me want to...well... throw up. I was sure I would be so grossed out by it that I wouldn't want to touch her or her stuff. But I'm proud to report that despite other parenting failures, I seem to have passed parenting test #761c (or whatever we're up to by now).

Seven Signs You Love Your Baby:

1. You use your body as a vomit shield to protect the carpet so you can "gently" carry her to the bathroom instead of rushing her in there.

2. You clean the vomit out of her hair before your own.

3. You try to sleep between the midnight vomitings (10+ of them!), but despite your utter exhaustion by 2:30am, you still just lie awake listening for any sign of distress from the next room so you can rush in.

4. You decide to just sleep in your vomit-ey nightshirt so you can hold her next time she yaks without worrying about it.

5. You kiss and kiss her vomit-reeking forehead inbetween bouts.

6. You are up at midnight doing your favorite thing: laundry.

7. You spend the next morning standing at the bathroom sink with woolite, enzyme, towels, and all her favorite stuffed animals, carefully hand-cleaning the throw-up-ey parts and trying to get the smell out without ruining them, sniffing every corner to make sure you didn't miss any, toweling off as much water off as you can, and setting them in a warm place to dry.


Poor baby girl. It's been a couple of hours since she last upchucked. I hope she's done.

Geektastic!

If Jared's Geek Aptitude was ever in question, today there is no longer any doubt.

Today is Pi day (which, of course, you wouldn't know unless you were a geek to begin with Pi=3.14..., today is 3/14. Get it?). Jared decided to organize an office Pi Party, in which people brought (of course) pies from home (or from the store, actually. People with engineering degrees aren't generally very domestic). The party took place at 3:14pm -- although Jared made an argument that it's more accurate to hold it at 1:59pm (3.14159...), but 3:14 was more convenient at the office. The management got so psyched about this (did you catch that? "psyched" about a Pi Party) that they got a gift certificate to Best Buy for the winner of the Pi contest. NO that's not a pie eating contest. That's a How Many Numbers of The Eternal Pi Can You Recite From Memory Contest. I, personally can recite three of them (3.14). Jared, on the other hand, won the contest with...

...can you guess how many digits?....

...91 digits of Pi!!!!!

Did I mention he did this from memory? If I were told I had to memorize and recite 91 digits of anything or I would be burned at the stake I'm pretty sure I would end up burned at the stake. Jared and his colleagues, on the other hand, thought it would be good fun to go through such a rigamarole. I thought he was an insane and geeky anomoly to go above, say, ten digits, but not so. The runners up: 2nd place got 71 digits. 3rd place got 104 digits, but made a mistake at #40.

Sheesh.

So in case you're wondering what the first 91 digits of pi are, here they are:

3.1415926535897932384626433832795028
841971693993751058209749445923078164
062862089986280348253

Mama's Little Baby Loves Shortenin' Bread

I sing this song to Seville all the time while bouncing her on my hip. Only recently I realized that I should actually make her shortbread sometime, and see if Mama's little baby does indeed love Shortenin' Bread.

And so even though shortbread is full of various refined foods and fats -- things I've forsworn eating myself and, mere months ago, thought I would avoid feeding my kids, I made shortbread this afternoon. It was inelegant, but super yummy (duh. main ingredient=butter).

We're on a campaign to fatten up Seville, which has made me feed her all kinds of things I previously considered "white trash food" (mac n' cheese with hotdogs, pop tarts, peanut butter ritz bitz, wafer cookies, etc). She's dropped off the growth charts in recent months, and just keeps falling farther and farther below that elusive bottom line. There are various reasons for this, not the least of which is that she gets really constipated if I give her milk so I don't (someday she'll probably be mad at me for sharing such information with the world) (btw, I just started soy milk, which makes me a little sad, being the dairy enthusiast that I am). Any good ideas for fattening baby foods?

New Rule

Jared and I instituted a new rule a couple of weeks ago. Our Valentine's gift to each other, to try for a month. Our rule is this:

No computers or television if we are home together.

This means that when Jared comes home from work, our computers stay off, and we have nothing to entertain ourselves but each other. Let me tell you... it is sooooooo haaaaaaard to do! Surprisingly so! I had no idea how often I get on this darn thing. I've become so accustomed to having the constant stimulation and entertainment of my laptop that I effectively have zero tolerance for boredom. I always have to be doing something, reading something, working on something, looking up something, etc. That first night I was shocked at how many times I automatically had the thought to check my computer/email/reader/blog/news/weather/etc. It would happen multiple times within a single 60 seconds, because apparently when my brain isn't sufficiently stimulated, it just automatically thinks of that. Weird. And scary.

So here's the really good thing that comes of this so far: Jared and I are forced to have a relationship. It's so easy to pass each other by at home. It's not like we have enough time to really plan activities together in the evenings, and so we tended to fill our inbetween minutes with computering. And once the computers weren't an option, and that started to sink in, we became bored enough that we actually started having conversations. I mean, it's not that we didn't converse before, but Jared made the comment that he thinks we talked more that first night than we had all month. It was actually pretty funny.

So, anyway, the rule is likely to stick, because I think it's doing good things for our family. In the meantime, you've probably noticed that I haven't been blogging much. I really don't have much time during the day for stuff like that (I can't even keep up with my email right now), so the blogging has fallen by the wayside. Hopefully I'll find ways to keep squeezing it in here and there. But I guess this is my plea to be patient with me if I don't comment on your blogs as much as I used to and don't seem to keep up as well. Sometimes first things have to come first I guess.

My Life as an Auto Mechanic

A friend of mine just made a post about working on her own car. Unusual for a chick, right? But I used to be a do-it-yourself-er myself. In high school, I drove my brothers 1963 Dodge Dart while he was on a mission. When the starter went out I learned how to get under the hood and use a wrench to connect the points while pulling the gas line with the other hand and get it started. Some hot guys at youth conference were seriously impressed, which got me thinking I should do more of this stuff. So for the next several years I regularly changed my own oil and brake pads. I gave my car its own tune-up in college, replacing spark plugs (including gapping them) and wires, fuel and air filters, etc. I even changed my own starter once, arms blackened to the elbows in the driveway of my house across the street from BYU campus.

But three years ago I married a guy who, despite having an engineering degree and a meticulous mind, just doesn't do work on his own car. Instead he prefers to have a new-ish car that has things like a "diagnostic computer" and an engine full of ridiculous amounts of wires and parts that requires professional maintenance. Within 6 months of our wedding he replaced my "much-loved" (totally falling-apart) 1987 Subaru with a shiny red 1999 Outback. Bless him. Since then I've brought my car to Oil Can Henry's when it needs a change. I have bought 4 brand new tires simultaneously (instead of one at a time, used). My car has mysteriously not needed any major work since we bought it (how is this possible? My last car needed something every couple months).

Two days ago I had to replace my windshield wiper. I went into the auto parts store and, much to my embarrassment, I couldn't remember the first thing about how to find the right one or even get them on and off my car. I stood there for some time trying to jog my memory. Eventually I had to go up to the counter and ask for help, and an employee did it all for me (a girl, mind you, much younger than me). I wanted to tell them all about my past mechanical know-how, and how it was really cool, for a girl, to know how to do all that stuff. I wanted to say, "I know I seem retarded right now, but I am really actually totally smart and mechanically-abled. I totally know how to work on a car. Or, er, at least I used to." But of course I didn't say that, and they all just thought I was a dumb, helpless, yuppie mom. Which, I guess, I am.

(p.s. the pictures are a catalogue of all the cars I've driven in my lifetime: 1967 Dodge Van, 1963 Dodge Dart, 1981 Honda Accord, 1987 Subaru Wagon, 1999 Subaru Outback)

I'm Dreaming of a White Birthday

This morning we woke up to a blanket of white over everything. I was soooo excited! So I showed Seville the proper way to play in snow...

Here she is checking out a piece of ice/show. Very curious about it.

Next "we" made a snow(wo)man.

Seville is trying to see what's going on underneath her hat, or how her head is attached, or maybe her inner bully is showing through. In any case...

Oops. Decapitated snow(wo)man.

I felt the need to replace her head. But this time I didn't try eyelashes. Somebody was getting tired.

All done with snow.

Jared's Birthday

...was on Saturday. He's still pipsqueak compared to his older and wiser wife, but he nevertheless continues to try and catch up to me.

He was in the mood for a low-key day, so we tooled around most of the day doing not much at all, and then a few family members came over for cake. Thanks family! And Happy Birthday Jared!

(side-note: I think this is the first time I've posted Jared's new look on the blog. As you can see, after his previous hairlessness he's decided to grow all the hair he can. As of this writing, however, the beard is gone. I'll have to post pictures of his sexy new self later)

My Birthday...

...was eventful, but not necessarily in a good way. I was up with Seville almost the entire night before, with a couple of brief fits of sleep between 4:30am and 10am. The poor thing has so many little problems right now (sore fingers, diaper rash, constipation, runny nose, teething) that it took us till morning to realize that she wasn't using her right arm. Once we figured this out we also realized that if you touched or moved it she would cry. So most of the following day (my birthday) was spent going back and forth to the Dr.'s office and hospital, getting X-rays, etc. The X-rays didn't show anything, and we were unable to determine exactly what was going on, other than that it seemed to be her shoulder or clavicle area that was bothering her the most. The Dr. told us to give her motrin, take her home and watch her closely for a while. If she didn't improve by the next day we were to bring her back.

Lucky for all of us, she is significantly improved by now. Who knows what was going on, but she seems to be getting better (also most of her other maladies are resolved or resolving. phew!).

So after all this we made some quick calls and went to dinner with family. They were great, and turned it into a festive evening.

For my birthday Jared got me a tent (well, half of it. He gets the other half for his birthday). It's a 3-man backpacking tent - an upgrade from our 2-man tents. In conjunction with the gift, we're planning a backpacking trip in the spring in S. Utah, which will be the best gift of all.

Thanks everyone for the emails, phone calls, cards, etc!

(...we'll see if Jared fares any better on his birthday this Saturday. :)

ONE!

Seville's Birthday:


Uncle Bryce came over on his lunch break and brought Seville daffodils. Her first flowers from a man. awwwww.

She got an activity play table for her birthday (which she loves), and a home-made dolly (which she didn't care much about beyond the first 10 minutes, but hopefully she will when she gets into "babies" later). It's my first attempt at makinga doll, and it's got some "character" (lopsided features). I figure if I want to make her a decent doll by the time she knows the difference, I better get started learning now. My next will be infinitely better, based on the learning experiences (read: mistakes) I had this time around.

We invited Seville's 1-year old friends to her birthday party. Between the Candland twins, the Faucette twins, and her cousin Ashlynn, there were 6 1-year olds in attendance. It was soooo cute watching them play together.

Here she is opening presents (which means I was opening presents while trying to keep her in my lap. At the time, she was far more interested in the other babies and existing toys to care what was inside a package. I'm sure all that will change by her next birthday.). (Thanks so much to her friends who brought her gifts. She loves all her new toys!)

Click on the slideshow to see more pictures.

I can't believe I have a one-year-old. The first year has gone by SO FAST! (I know it's cliche' to say. Everyone says that, but, man alive, you don't understand until it happens to you).

Happy Birthday baby girl!

3 days and counting...

So we're throwing a birthday party for Seville on Friday (her actual birthday is Thursday, but some relatives are coming from out of town so I'm bending my hard and fast rule about birthdays being on birthdays. Bad precedent, I know).

(yes, I made the invitation with TyBook graphics. Cute, huh?)

I have really mixed feelings about throwing a one-year-old birthday party. I used to think the whole idea was a bit silly, and I realize she'll have no idea what's going on, but now that I have my own kid I can't resist. Any excuse to watch her be cute is a good excuse to me. The tough part, really, is deciding who to invite without embarrassing myself. I don't want people thinking I seriously expect them to come and make a big deal out of Seville's birthday, but neither do I want anyone to think I didn't consider them a "close enough friend." I guess this is no different than the great who that you experience for baby showers, weddings, Christmas cards, etc. Anyway, I decided to go generally with family and people with babies her age, which I figure is a fairly safe bet. Of course, anyone not fitting that criteria who wants to come would certainly be welcome, but I would hate to presume any interest, and I would hate to elicit any eye-rolling by those who are either childless or more "experienced" parents than I.

So once again, here I am eating my pre-baby words. I kinda wanna start keeping a running tab on how many times I do that, but I've already lost count.

"C" is for cookie, and cookie is for me

We've decided to have "birthday week" instead of just birthday for Seville. Mostly because we made cookies for Family Home Evening tonight and she wanted one and, well, I just couldn't resist that pudgy little hand reaching out and that cute little whimper as she watched me eating mine.

So today, 4 days ahead of schedule (she isn't one until Thursday), she got to have her first exposure to chocolate, and her first grown-up, non-barley, non-sugar-free cookie (mind you, it was all whole-grain with no refined flours or sugars, but still).




Welcome to my world, little one.

Our Christmas Holidays

Happy New Year

There's something I love about a flower bud, and the symbolism it carries. It seems wholly appropriate for the New Year, and all the promise and hope it has to offer. I went out and picked the last of my roses this morning, figuring that one final New Year's arrangement was worthy of them all. I can't believe how many there are that are still in tact. And I can't stop staring at this arrangement on my dining table, and thinking about what this year has in store for us.

Fictitious Numbers

Are you serious people?! As of this moment, according to my little poll on the right, fully 88% of you think a jillion is more than a zillion! I mean, come on! A zillion is clearly more! I mean, it has a Z in it for heaven's sake. Anything starting with a Z obviously has to be more than something starting with a mere and paltry J. I mean, please. You can't be serious.

ok, I gotta get more votes here. All you who haven't noticed the poll up till now, you have to weigh in for me. (Also, if you don't vote for zillion I'm going to lose my bet with Jared. I am loathe to lose a bet with Jared, so think about this before you vote! The logical answer is SO a zillion!)