Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Congratulations, Mama Saritas!

Little Clara Jane is adorable!

Friday, July 02, 2010

Happy Birthday, Jenny!

Hope you had a wonderful day!

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Motherhood: Brief Thoughts

It was Sunday, and I was in the mothers' lounge...nursing. There was something about holding a baby while wearing a skirt and heels that made me realize how much my life has changed. When I explained this to me older sister, she responded with, "Really? Pushing out a baby and bleeding for a few weeks afterwards didn't do that?" My response: "That felt more like physical exertion. Church is where I really start to understand what's changed." Why? Let's look at the highlights of last week:

First hour: Left after 15 minutes to calm down fussy baby. Walked upstairs to the "overflow" room (really the room for babies and children) to find three other mothers in the exact same position. Smiled at them and tended to child. Walked back and forth, patted, and soothed said child to sleep. Returned to main meeting with 10 minutes left.

Second hour: Held sleeping child as arms ached. Left to breastfeed after 30 minutes. Sat in mothers' lounge. Realized I was wearing a loose shirt to both hide my tummy and facilitate easy access for feeding. Crossed legs. Saw heels. Laughed about new existence.

Third hour: Dad's turn.

I'm amazed by people who have more than one child.

Monday, April 12, 2010

It's a BOY!

Congrats Jenny! We are all so excited for you!

Thursday, April 01, 2010

Tales of an Asthmatic

So I basically sick of Utah's cold weather, warm weather, cold weather fluctuations. I just need sun and warmth to keep me healthy. Oh yeah...and to stop teaching 7 and 8 year old petri dishes. I have had walking pneumonia for the past week and who knew you could feel like you were dead but still alive? Bleh...and sub plans equals double bleh. My doctor was shocked when she realized my lungs were only at 50% capacity. I wish I could say I was equally as surprised, but I'm pretty sure the fact that I'd collapse on my bed in exhaustion just after showering was a good indicator for me. Spring break is looking oh sooo good right now...

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Trip to Utah

Yes, that's right. I will be visiting Utah this summer. Why, you say? For a wedding, I say. Whose wedding, you ask? My brother Kurt's wedding. Yes, that's right. Kurt, who just got back from Russia in June is now getting married in Utah on July 17th. So that means a trip to Utah this summer. I look forward to seeing all of my Utah friends again! I also have to save to attend a wedding in Florida in November. And somehow try to figure out a trip to Boston. And save for a GRE prep course. And take my car in for its 100,000 mile check. And get a smog check and renew my registration. And pay a dental bill. When did I become an adult? It's expensive!

Monday, February 15, 2010

Epiphanies on Aisle 10

At the end of my freshman year of college, I discarded an over-size, down-filled, tomato-red winter coat that my mother had purchased on a half price sale. Her rationale? I could grow into it. However, I felt like Ralphie from A Christmas Story whenever I put it on--at eighteen, it was certainly not freshman-year-chic. I threw it on the DI pile in our dorm and returned to my apartment, sure that this coat and I would never cross paths again. Unfortunately, my mom was coming to visit that day. She saw the coat, recognized it, retrieved it, scolded me, and gave it to my pregnant sister who couldn't zip up her winter coat anymore. A small sacrifice for being rid of the atrocity.

But the coat returned. While visiting my sister over the holidays, she far-too-exuberantly realized that my winter coat wouldn't budge once the zipper hit the the underside of my pregnant belly. Opening the closet, she unveiled the solution: my cast-off winter coat. I knew we didn't have the money to buy anything new, so I gratefully took the coat and wore it on the plane home...and I've worn it almost everyday since. It's still large and red, and it served as a catalyst to gaining a better love and sense of where I am in life.

Enter a grocery store, a song, and a search for toothpaste. While I was standing in aisle 10, comparing toothpaste in order to find the cheapest non-fluorinated kind, wearing the large tres unfashionable coat, sporting no make-up, swinging my ponytail, and feeling aggravated at the pregnancy/weather-induced acne-like rash developing over my entire chin...and spreading (really--that's why I can't use fluoride toothpaste right now; my skin is reacting to it by making my chin look like a awkward fourteen-year-old's), I heard the familiar refrains of a David Grey song. You know, the type of song we used to listen to when we were young college students and wanted to drive late at night and talk. I recalled how independent and mature I felt in those moments.

With this thought I saw my eighteen-year-old self approach me from the front of the aisle. I stood frozen with two tubes of toothpaste in either hand and awaited the assault. She comprehended the entire scenario at a glance and grimaced slightly. Our conversation was brief:

She: What have you done to me?
I: It's called perioral dermatitis. The doctor said it was caused by hormones, weather, fair skin, and fluoride.
She: And the coat?
I: It's cold, and we don't have the money for something more stylish.
She: Since when did you pinch pennies over toothpaste?
I: Since my husband started graduate school.
She: Does he play the guitar and have a brooding aspect to him?
I: Not really. He's an engineer.
She: Do you still drive around at night when you want to relax and chat with someone?
I: We don't have a car...
She: Are you happy?
I (with a smile): Yes. Very.

And I am. I doubt that girl who tossed away the coat would have willingly walked into this future had she caught a glimpse at 18. But her definition of being mature was skewed--it's more than just being able to stay out late or drive around with a friend simply because we could.

She vanished, the final chords of the song played, and I picked the cheapest toothpaste. At the other end of the aisle, my husband started walking towards me. Grabbing my hand, he looked down at me, not at the chin, and asked, "Are you ready?" I slid my fingers between his, nodded, and headed for the check-out aisle, hoping that we'd still make budget this week despite the toothpaste.

Friday, February 12, 2010