Worth the wait

Wednesday May 27, 2009

7 lb 10 oz

20 in

Blue eyes, dark hair, ten fingers, ten toes

Perfect.

Irritated

You may have seen these cute little tickers before. The baby starts out small, and gets bigger as the numbers underneath count down the days until your baby is due. You'll notice there is no baby floating around in the little circle. That is because the baby is SUPPOSED TO BE OUT BY NOW!

But I'm not bitter.

Treasures

While unpacking, I found a box marked "John's toys." Inside was exactly what you'd expect to find (if you knew my husband); Legos, Star Wars action figures, and other relics of an 80's childhood that were simply too cool to get rid of. Some he decided to share with the boys and some were put away again - too precious to share.

So JJ's new favorite thing is a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, he even sleeps with it. But he is two, so it's an "En-gin Turtle."

"No." John corrects him. "A Ninja Turtle. Nin-ja. N-N-N NIN-ja."

"What's NIN-ja?"

"It's someone who fights a special way."

"Someone who bites?"

"No."

But I liked JJ's version.

Raf-L the en-gin turtle who bites.

A bit of friendly advice

To the Utah Department of Health:

I've grown used to the 20-30 minute wait while you take your own sweet time answering the phone. I get it, you are too busy to talk to me.

But the song "I don't want to wait" by Paula Cole, with the chorus repeating "I don't want to wait, I don't want to wait" - probably not the best music to play while I'm on hold.

Just a thought.

Star Wars

Darth Maul and Darth Vader face off in a lightsaber battle to end all lightsaber battles. Brought to you by Daddy and you tube movie clips, in an effort to keep them entertained before dinner. It worked.

And this is the view from the couch in our new house.

Epiphany

Trying to find something to wear to church at eight months and two weeks pregnant. I only have so many dressy maternity clothes and I'm sick of all of them.

"You know what would look really cute with this skirt?" I say to my husband. "My other body."

Happy Mother's Day

My Mother's day present. Only mine is white. I love it.
Yes, it is a mom car - but at this point there is no denying that that is exactly what I am.

Not my favorite way to start a conversation

So I'm taking a shower the other morning and my two-year old barges in.

"Mommy?"

"What?"

"I didn't mean to."

A public apology (since I have no idea how to do a private one.)

We attended the graveside service for John's grandfather last week with the boys. They were very well behaved considering it was a beautiful sunny day with lots of grass to run around in. I was impressed with how quiet they were during the prayers and everything. When we got back into the car, I noticed Ian had a handful of pennies.

"Where did you get that money?" I asked.

"Off one of the stones. I think someone must have dropped it on accident."

Oh, dear.

There are several explanations for the tradition of leaving coins or pebbles on gravestones, some of them contradictory, but I'm sure they meant something to somebody. But there was no way to put them back because I have no idea where he got them.

So. If your loved one is buried at Wasatch Lawn Memorial Cemetery and you notice that the pennies you left are missing, I'm really sorry. They are in my four-year-old's pocket. I also apologize for laughing about the whole thing, but I thought it was kind of funny.

What I really meant to say

I had the opportunity to chat with a few of John's cousins the other day. While we were talking, Morgan asked if I still thought John was as cute as I did when we got married (or something like that, I don't remember exactly.) I answered with something along the lines of "most of the time" and the conversation moved on.

But at the time and even now, I wish I'd said something else. I wish I was the type of person who could gush. Not all the time, but especially at times like that. I am so in love with my husband. He is the kindest, most caring, not to mention good-looking man I know. I am constantly surprised at the lengths he will go to to make me happy. He is a wonderful father to our children and the most perfect partner to me. He is everything I've ever wanted and all the things I would want if only I knew myself enough to know that I want them. He's wonderful. And every time I look at him I realize again how lucky I am.

I wish I had said that to Morgan, though that wasn't exactly the type of conversation we were having, and I'm not sure he wanted to hear me rhapsodize about my husband anyway. It probably doesn't matter to anyone but me. But just for the record: I may not always say it, but I always think it. Love you, John.