Thursday, April 28, 2011

New Habits

Babies are funny. I had no idea how funny Brynlee would be to watch. She is really entertaining. Brynlee carries things with her when she crawls. She will see something, pick it up and then crawl with it clenched in her hand. I find random things all over the house because she has carried them there. On Easter she was crawling around with a plastic Easter egg in each hand. One morning Robbie gave her a pancake. He didn't feed her pancake pieces, he just handed her a whole pancake. Well she took off with it, crawling along. She left a pancake trail all over the carpet. She'd crawl, stop and take a bite, and then keep crawling.

She is the biggest mooch. It reminds me of having a dog again. If you are eating or drinking something, she will mosey on over and climb up your leg begging for food. If you don't give her any she will get angry and yell at you. Jimmy and I cannot eat a meal with out her all over us trying to get at our food. It doesn't matter if she has just eaten, it doesn't matter if she has her own food. She just wants YOUR food, no matter what it is. She probably continues to do this because I always share with her (how can you say no to such a cute face?).

She has started bear crawling (on her hands and feet). She looks pretty funny doing that. At least she is keeping her legs clean though. I hate how dirty her pants and socks get from crawling around. It grosses me out.

She is not a Mommy's girl. Or a Daddy's girl. She is an anyone's girl. As long as she is not completely alone in a room, she is fine. She could be with a stranger and would be happy as a clam. I bring her to day care now and she lunges out of my arms for the day care lady. Yes I must be a great Mother! She does this every morning. I asked the day care lady if that was normal and she said yes. Hmm... I think she is lying. I keep telling myself I'd rather have her do that then be clinging to me crying. Because then I would drop her off and come home crying everyday. But it would be nice if she didn't lunge away from me with such vigor. I guess she really really likes that day care!

Her wake up time somehow shifted from 7:00-7:30 to now 6:00-6:30. Not so ok with this one. Why baby, why? I fear for when we turn the clocks in fall. Will she be waking up at 5 then? She used to wake up at 8, and then in fall when we changed the clocks it turned to 7. I figured in spring I'd get that hour back, but she just decided to wake up even earlier. Brynlee, you are going in the wrong direction! I've thought about putting her to bed later, but she goes to bed at 8 now as it is and I'm usually not too far behind her. The idea of having to keep her up at night until 9, ugh. Not so enticing.

We are already struggling about her hair. That is one of the perks of having a girl right? It's like a real live doll that you get to dress up and stuff? I never imagined that my doll would rip out every hair thing I tried to stick on here. Hair bows, forget it. I can put an elastic in her hair and she will keep it in for a little while but once she figures it out she keeps pulling on it. On Sunday I got her all in her Easter dress, with a cute little pony tail and clip in her hair. In the middle of church she discovered it and pulled it right out. I tried to just put in the clip and she pulled that out too. I'll have to try to do the elastic tighter next time...

Pretty soon she will be 1. I remember pre baby thinking that 1 year olds were more like toddlers than babies. Wrong! She is very much still a baby. But she is also turning into a little lady and has quite the personality!

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

One Fine Day

I was lucky to get some pretty sweet stuff for my birthday this year. I am spoiled. Just a little bit.

Robbie, being the wonderful brother in law that he is gave me a gift certificate for me and a friend to go get massages and facials. Believe me, I could use a massage. It has been a WILD year and I'm tired.

I'm not going to say Robbie is more feminine than Jimmy...ok maybe he is just a little. But he thinks of stuff like massages. He is more in touch with the pampering side. His grooming is impeccable. I think he might have been called metrosexual once or twice, much to his chagrin. Either way I'm grateful for that side of him because I scored big time. He is a great gift giver. The past 2 years he has given me a subscription to US Magazine for Christmas. I love that magazine. I know that is not helping with my struggle against worldliness but I look forward to it every week and get so excited when it comes.

Anyhow, I've never had a massage before. They are ridiculously expensive, and I'm not a naked person. The idea of getting naked and having some strange person rub all over me gives me anxiety. Since I work from home, usually by myself all day I've had people ask me if I walk around naked. Umm...no. Do people do that? I'm fully dressed while working, thanks.

But, I would face the naked fear to get a massage. I brought my friend Chloe with me (see it pays to be my friend, and live in the same state!). She is actually a masseuse so she is well versed in the protocol. I changed into my robe and went into the little massage room. I got under the covers only to hear a knock at my door. My masseuse locked herself out. Oops. I had to go crack the door for her and then hop back under the covers for her to come in.

But what happened next... there are no words to explain. It was wonderful! The dim lights, the soothing music, the pleasant smell. The whole thing. I almost fell asleep like 4 times. I can't think of the last time I was that relaxed. My masseuse was great, granted I have no point of reference here. But if she was able to get me that relaxed she has some skills. It felt so great I didn't even think about the fact that some strange lady was rubbing lotion all over my 98% naked body. See now thinking about it freaks me out again.

Next up was the facial. That was pretty enjoyable as well. Except for the whole extraction part. The part where they take their tools and dig at your face. Yeah. That was not so nice. If there is stuff hiding in my pores, let it hide! If I can't see it I don't care if it's there. Lets not bring it up to the surface. Because now I do see it, and now I do care that it's there. But after the extraction part the rest was wonderful. She used some kind of lemony something and it smelled so good.

I can see why people get these things on a regular basis. It can add up to be quite a costly habit though. It will just have to be a treat for now, maybe one day I'll be able to afford to get them more often. And if not, that is ok. :)

I came home to a cranky baby who decided to skip her nap and make everyone pay the price. So I didn't stay relaxed for too long, but it was nice while it lasted. Saturday was a great day.

My Sunday School class has been going better. No racial jokes at least. I think I nipped those in the bud. We were discussing Brigham Young this week, and I had a picture of him on the board. The boys in the class asked me how he grew that crazy beard. I told them you have to go through a thing called puberty first. Some of them proudly boasted that they had a few facial hairs. One kid even claimed to have 10. Thirteen and fourteen year olds can be pretty funny sometimes. Them being so proud of their piddly facial hair kept me smiling all day.

Since it was Easter I flooded them with baked goods and candy. I guess that helps too. The vigor in which those boys ate those cookies frightened me a little bit. Like a pack of lions with a wildebeest. Do the parents of these kids not feed them? I guess that is growing boys for you. Needless to say there were no cookies left. One kid proceeded to take the bag and empty the crumbs into his mouth. Hey at least he didn't start licking the inside of the bag right? That is something!

Monday, April 25, 2011

The Balancing Act

I feel like there is a plague sweeping through. Like it is everywhere tempting us and chasing us. Like there is no escaping it. It’s only a matter of time until you get it and fighting it just a waste of energy.

Worldliness. It’s all over.

I often wonder how healthy it is to live here in California. Southern California especially. It feels like it can really negatively affect someone’s psyche. Granted I’ve lived here all my life and don’t know anything different. But in the limited amount of time I’ve spent traveling, it doesn’t seem to be as bad everywhere else. Still out there yes, but not to this extent.

I find myself pondering on this a lot recently. I feel like everyone here is playing the game of Keeping up with the Joneses. I don’t really want to play that game. I love games yes, but not that one.

When I was a teenager, the boy band craze hit big time. I stayed out of it for a while. I didn’t get caught up it in. I refrained, even though it was all around me. But eventually it got me. I fell into it. Posters of *NSYNC went up on my wall, and I spent my time pining after singing boys I would never have. I don’t regret that. It was a fun time, and now I can look back at it and laugh hysterically. But eventually the mob mentality got to me, and I joined the pack.

It’s like worldliness is a boy band craze. It’s everywhere. Even in places it shouldn’t be. Like LDS church members. For those non LDS’ers, we are counseled over and over again about the dangers of falling into a worldly lifestyle. It is dangerous. It’s fake, and temporary and a very slippery slope. To think that you are better than someone because you have a bigger house than they do, it’s completely ridiculous.

But it’s there. I do feel like I’m being judged, all the time. Judged about how skinny I am, or am not. Being judged about the fact that I use Costco formula rather than Similac. Being judged because I use formula in general. Being judged because I rent a town house with my brother in law and have a baby living in my room. Being judged because my shirt is from Walmart and my pants are from Target. I’m sure part of this is in my head. But I’m observant enough to know that part of it is not. And it makes me sad.

Sad because we as people do this to each other. And sad that I actually care. I’ve gone off about this before, but I hate that fact that we have been conditioned by society to make ourselves feel better by putting others down.

I find myself thinking sometimes, “If I had that pretty $200 purse I would be happy”. “If I lost just 5 more lbs things would be better.” I find myself actually thinking about plastic surgery. Maybe I could use some larger boobs… Really? Really. Are these thoughts really crossing my mind? It’s horrifying. Not that there is anything wrong with breast implants (I’m really not meaning to offend here, to each his own I say!). But for me, no. It’s just not right for me. I’ve never cared about having small boobs before. I was teased all through elementary school for having small boobs. Why is it now I find myself suddenly caring? Maybe if I’d wanted them my whole life that would be one thing. But it never bothered me before and it suddenly does now. Why is that?

It probably has to do with the images that are splashed in my face all day long. On TV, in my magazines, on Facebook. Even on the news for goodness sake. Everywhere I turn is how I’m “supposed” to look. Well guess what. I don’t look that way, and probably never will. No matter what size boobs I have.

The key here is balance. At least I’m in tune enough with myself to know when the balance is being thrown off. Of course we want to look attractive and have nice things. I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. It’s when that need starts to take over your life and become priority number 1 is when there is a problem. I should take pride in my appearance, and if I want to splurge on a purse once in a while I think I should. Not a $200 one, but spending a little extra on something nice on occasion is not the end of the world.

No one can make you feel bad about myself unless YOU let them. That is one of those things that is much easier to preach than to practice. Believe me, I know. But it’s so true.

I love that Facebook has allowed me to re kindle friendships with people I’ve fallen out of touch with. It keeps me up to date on people’s lives and I appreciate that. I think there are a lot of positive things about Facebook. But I think there are a lot of negative things about it too. I’m going to go on a Facebook hiatus for a while and see what happens.

I don’t want this plague of worldliness to catch me. I keep trying to resist, but it’s hard. It’s like we are playing tag and worldliness is it. I always sucked at playing tag when I was little. The idea of someone chasing me freaks me out. I’m going to try to fill my time with more positive things to help ward of the bad. My blog seems to be full of challenges. Some have gone better than others (I’m still getting dressed everyday! Yay!). I guess that is what life is all about though. Challenges.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Birds of Feather

As I was driving today, I saw a flock of birds flying together. Maybe I'm in a weird mood, but it shocked me for a second. Why do they do that? For protection? From what... all the other flying objects that might threaten them? Bad news birds, if a plane is coming at you, line or no line you are toast.

I started to wonder, are they friends? And they like to fly together and that is why they do that? Or are they family maybe? Do animals have the ability to become friends with each other? I’d like to think so. My mind started going and going...

I think about strange stuff like that. I wonder if Brynlee will too. The older she gets, the more I think she looks like me. That makes me kind of sad. I know that is strange and probably a bit messed up. I figured she would look like me, but there are things about my appearance that I have struggled with for a long time, and I don't want her to have to go through the same thing I have (please let her have straight hair, please let her have straight hair...)

At day care today when I dropped her off a little blond boy came up to hug her. Here she is with these boys again. Anyway I asked him if Brynlee was his friend. And he said yes. I asked him if he thought Brynlee was pretty and he said yes. Good job 2 year old, that is the correct answer.

I started to think about what would happen if when Brynlee is a teenager someone makes her feel as ugly as some people made me feel growing up. I think they better watch out, that's what. I may seem nice and pleasant at first, but believe me. You don't want to mess. Future suitors of my daughter, watch out.

When Brynlee was sick in the hospital I worried people would be afraid of her. Treat her like she was a leper, like there was something wrong with her. That she would pass her illness on to them. Turns out we only had one incident of that. That person is not one of my favorite people. Just thinking about him gets me angry all over again. He will probably forever be on my "bad" list. And it’s a pretty short list since I get along with just about everybody.

It's hard to tell what kind of temperament Brynlee will have at this age, but she reminds me of me some ways there too. When she pulls herself to a stand, she is afraid to get down. She wants you to help her. If you don't help her, she screams at you until you do. She is cautious with things.

I'm cautious. A little too cautious I think. I'm not a risk taker and I'm not a dare devil. Which is ok. But I wish I wasn't so scared to do things sometimes. I was never a fearless child, and am definitely not a fearless adult.

I'm not too worried about Brynlee being overcautious as I'm sure her dad will force that trait out of her. I really hope we eventually have a boy. Otherwise Brynlee is in trouble. Jimmy has big dreams for a strong brooding child...

I've realized a few mistakes we've made as parents. I guess you learn from experience right? First, I never made/taught Brynlee how to hold her own bottle. So, now at 11 months old when we are close to a time when I'd like there to be no bottles at all, I still have to hold it for her. Second, I guess feeding her snacks on the floor was not a good idea. Sure our floor is pretty clean. But now she tries to eat ANYTHING of the floor she finds. Lint, paper, pennies, dirt. Hmm... We didn't think that one through to well.

I picture our kids up in Heaven in pre existence. I picture them drawing straws to see who would get stuck coming down here first to train us as parents. Brynlee obviously pulling the short straw because here she is, dealing with us and all our inexperience and uncertanties. The trade off is that she will get all the new toys and clothes while the other kids will be stuck with hand me downs.

I wonder if she will grow up and be amazed looking at a flock of birds flying together like I am. Or if she will think I'm nuts for being so entranced at some pigeons. We'll just have to wait and see about that one!

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

A Star is Born

When I got my license at 16 I was lucky enough to have a vehicle to drive. I was un lucky enough for it to be a mini van. Just kidding, that van got where I needed to go. At the time, it sure beat walking.

For a while right before I got my license my friend Ashley and I would go to school not sure how we would get home. My parents have always worked full time, and Ashley's parents had fluctuating schedules. The friends whose parents we'd come to rely on for rides growing up now had after school engagements. So we were stuck and on our own. We'd get dropped of at school and have money for the bus, worst case scenario. The bus was sooo not an option we were interested in exploring. So we'd take turns. One day I'd find us a ride home, the next time she would find us a ride home. It was a nerve wracking way to be! Until I got my license and my parents so kindly let me drive our green mini van.

Not the kind of car that every 16 year old wants to drive. But it got the job done. At least I had a car. But a mini van? Ugh. Is there a worse car for a teenager to drive? It was mortifying at times. I would wait until all the other kids had cleared out of the high school parking lot before I left, because I did not want people to see my in my van. If I was leaving Target and I saw a hot guy in the parking lot, I'd walk over to a cute little sedan and fiddle with my keys until he left. Then I'd walk over and get in my van. I loved that the van got me from point A to point B. But I hated that van because , well it was a van!

A few years later my 18th birthday was looming around the corner. I was desperate for a different car. Any car. Used, semi functioning. I'd take anything that was not a mini van at that point. My Dad kept teasing me telling me they were going to get the van a new paint job for my birthday. Ha ha Dad, good one. You are joking right? Tell me you are joking. You can't be that cruel.

At 5 am on my 18th birthday I woke up to my Mom yanking me out of bed. I was half asleep and extremely confused. She drug me out of the house to the front yard. And there it was. A NEW car! With a big huge bow on it. Ahhh!! It was like a scene straight out of a movie. Sophia was born. She was perfect in every way. The color, the size, the spoiler ( how sporty looking! So the opposite of a big ugly van!), the smell. She was beautiful. I think that is one of the happiest moments of my life. I could not wait to drive to school. Everyone at school was super excited and wanted to come see my new car. I was so proud. There was no waiting until everyone left the parking lot that day, I was happy to be seen getting into and driving my car.

I'll be forever grateful to my parents for that car. I think about how truly lucky I am to have been given a car and a college education. I can't imagine if we had 2 car payments instead of 1. Or 2 people's student loans to pay off instead of 1. My parents have always worked really hard to provide for me, and to be financially sound. We were never rich, but I was always well taken care of. My parents are pretty awesome like that.

I still have Sophia, 9 years later. She has quite a few miles on her now (stupid job!), but she is running loud and proud. I plan on getting quite a few more years out of her. It's funny now with Brynlee, I think about how nice a van would be to have room to tote her and all her baby crap. My how time changes things! But for now Sophia works just fine. Maybe if I had less crap in my car there would be more room for baby crap. But that is a topic for another day...

Monday, April 18, 2011

Sunday Best and Service Saturday

Every Sunday morning is a mad dash to get ready for church. For some reason it takes me twice as long to get ready on Sundays as it does any other day of the week. Not sure why that is. We have church at 9, so basically once Brynlee is up we need to feed her and start the Sunday morning scramble. This Sunday, we were actually semi on time (meaning by like 5-10 min, a record!).

I have a neighbor named Bob. Bob is one of the nicest people. He is a widower, and has a little dog named Samantha. The dog is... not so nice. Ok she isn't that bad, but she is a loud yippy dog with a serious little dog syndrome. And even more little dog attitude to match.

Bob was outside when we left to venture to the car. He came over to say hi to us, and told us how nice it was to see young people dressed up and going to church.

When we got home Bob was outside again. He asked us what church we go to and Jimmy chatted with him a bit. I was counting spots on the lady bug that landed on my arm. I think I've developed some serious ADD issues. I'm not sure what my deal is but I cannot pay attention for extended periods of time! Anyhow Bob again praised us for looking so dapper in our Sunday best. He said that he goes to church too, but you don't dress up for his church. He said he misses getting dressed up sometimes.

I realized a few things from this experience.

1. I really do enjoy dressing up for church. It's nice to have 1 day a week where the whole family really does it up right. I love putting Brynlee in cute little church dresses and shoes. I love putting that extra umph into my appearance. I love seeing my husband dolled up in a suit and tie. Sometimes it would be nice to just throw on some jeans, but when all is said in done I'm happy to dress up.

2. You never know who is watching and what kind of impression you will make. I often forget that. I represent the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and I need to act as such. I'm human and make mistakes like everyone else, but you never know when your actions will bring on (or snuffle out) a missionary experience. Because we were dressed up, Jimmy was able to share a bit with Bob about our church (as I was counting lady bug spots...). It doesn’t mean Bob will be coming to church with us next week, but we were able to get to know our neighbor a little better, and he was able to get to know us.

Saturday morning Jimmy participated in a service project. I was on baby duty (can't really pull weeds very well with a 1 year old), so Jimmy represented us on his own. Pull weeds. That is what he did for several hours. With hundreds of other people. That is one of the things I really love about my church. People will not hesitate to get their hands dirty (literally) and help others. At 8am on Saturday.

Later that day, Jimmy told me about another experience he had. He was trying to get to the freeway, the light was green and traffic was not moving. Turns out there was a stalled car blocking the path. The stalled car put on his emergency flashers and the other cars started to swerve around him. My husband pulls his car up and stops to see if he can help. Turns out it was a man who couldn't get his stick shift up the hill. He kept stalling and rolling backwards. The man did not speak English very well, but Jimmy was not deterred. He offered to drive the man’s car up the hill and pull it off to flat ground so the man could then resume his driving. The car owner obliged, and Jimmy left his car sitting in the middle of the street while he helped this man out. I'm not sure what this man will do when he gets to another hill and Super Jimmy is not around to save the day...

It left me wondering yet again what I would have done in that situation. Actually, I don't have to wonder. I would have driven past the man, just like everyone else and not have thought twice about it. I can't drive a stick shift, so it’s not like I could have helped anyway. But that is beside the point. I definitely would not have gotten into some strange man's car with him either. That sounds like the plot for a bad Lifetime movie. But I can guarantee that the thought to inconvenience myself and stop to help someone else would probably not have crossed my mind. I really want to work on that.

My husband can be a bear sometimes. Really, he drives me nuts. A lot. I find myself wondering how we have made it 5+ years without killing each other. But he is also a great example to me. And a genuinely great person, who is constantly striving to be better. He inspires me. When all is said and done I guess that is enough to override is annoying man habits! :)

Friday, April 15, 2011

Pop!

Some things really freak me out. Like the noise people make when they brush their teeth. Or if I’m lying out, and I’m on concrete. And my feet hang off the towel (because towels are NEVER long enough) and my toenails hit the concrete. I hate it! I hate the feel, I hate the noise. Ugh just thinking about it freaks me out.

I hate it when body parts pop. And mine do, all the time. Cracking is ok, I don’t mind cracking fingers or toes. But actually popping, like knee sockets and hip sockets. Shoulder sockets. Eww. It’s disturbing.

Ever since I had Brynlee my hips pop when I move a certain way. Another souvenir from being pregnant? That and my bladder control is not what it used to be. Sometimes when I laugh too hard I piddle. Which is ok, when you are 9 months pregnant. Not so ok now when you not pregnant…

Anyhow there are certain moves we do in Pilates where my hips are popping all over the place. (side note: Yes, go me I’ve stuck with it for 8 weeks! 8! And I’m taking the class again. There can be miracles!) Last night, the lady on the mat next to me comes up to me after class and says “Wow your hips really pop”. I thought I was the only one who could hear them popping! Apparently my Pilates neighbors get to take in my joy of nasty pops all over the place. And it’s not like in Pilates you are right next to someone. You need space to swing limbs all around so the fact that she could hear me popping away. It was pretty embarrassing. What am I supposed to say to that? “Sorry yeah I know it’s gross and freakish. I blame the baby.”? She wasn’t being mean, she just seemed intrigued. I’m kind of intrigued too. If they pop like this after one kid, what will happen after the next? Are my legs going to just fall out of the sockets? Luckily this annoying popping only occurs in my Pilates class. I don’t usually fling limbs all over in every day life, so I can deal with it. Not that I have a choice. I can’t un pop on command. Unfortunately for my Pilates class mates apparently they are stuck with it too!

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Countdown

As Brynlee's 1st birthday looms closer and closer I find myself reflecting on this past year. It's strange, it seems like just yesterday I was so proud of her for rolling over. Now, like a little jack knife I lay her down in her bed and she pops right up. She recently learned how to stand in there. Oh boy now it's really down hill.

Because I see her everyday I don't see the way she changes all the time. But boy does she.

Here she is when she was just a few days old:



Here she is 2 months old in the hospital:



3 months old:



About 5 months old:



7 months old:



And now, enjoying some of my birthday cake:



She looks like a little person now! I keep getting pieces of mail referring to my toddler. Toddler? Where? I wonder how long I'll call her "baby" for. Jimmy, Robbie and I all call her "baby". Poor thing, as if she doesn't have a name. I fought for that name, tooth and nail. But here I am calling her "baby" too. It's not that I'm not excited for her to grow, it just goes so fast it's freaking me out a little bit. She is just about out of her 12 month clothes. I look at her newborn stuff and it seems like it was a lifetime ago when she fit into all that.

On a different topic, here are some other pictures. Since I only post pictures about every 50 posts or so I have to get them all in when I can! :)

Mitzie in her box. She sits in here while I work, keeping me company. Have I mentioned how much I love this cat? Well I do. LOVE her.



Happy Birthday to me! Thanks Mom for an amazing cake.




Getting ready to ride the horses.



Don't let go of the reigns!



Bath time fun. This kid could stay in here all day. Last summer I didn't feel comfortable bringing her in the pool because she was so small. This summer I'm ready for some fun in the sun! Based on how much she loves being in water it looks like she is too.

Monday, April 11, 2011

The Horse Experience

This weekend Jimmy and I went horse back riding! Yay! I've always loved horses, ever since I was little. I've always been fascinated by them.

So, for my birthday I asked Jimmy to give me horseback riding. Ever grateful for suggestions, that's exactly what he did. Of course horse riding isn't very baby friendly. So Carla offered to watch Brynlee for me while we went.

My experience on horses has been limited. Limited to about 10 min or so when Audrey and her family so kindly let me ride their horse Mouse a few years ago when I was out there. I was a bit nervous (images of a paralyzed Christopher Reeves kept flashing though my head..) but really excited as well.

Jimmy... was not so excited. But he went along anyway, what a trooper. We drove to Malibu Canyon where all the ridiculously rich people live and found the ranch. It was $65 per person per hour (I know Audrey, close your mouth that I'm sure is currently wide open right now. People charge a lot of money to let you ride their horses out here!). We figured 1 hour would be plenty for us.

We were in a group of 5 people. The other 3 people were relatively in experienced as well. The instructor very quickly ran over how to mount the horse and how to make it go/stop/turn/back up, etc. How hard can it be right? Wrong! Very wrong!

As everyone was getting on their horses Jimmy's horse started backing him into a bush. And then started backing him into a trailer. His horse had some big time attitude. He would pull the reigns, and the horse would just back him even further into the bush.

It's very strange thing to ride something with a mind of its own. We are used to driving cars, where you press buttons and turn a wheel and the car does what you want. Horses on the other hand do what they want unless you very sternly tell them otherwise.

As we started towards the trail all the horses went left, and my horse went right to the water bucket. I pulled and pulled those reigns to the left and my horse just kept on going. I guess she was really thirsty? They told me not to let her drink too much, so I tried to yank up on her reigns to no avail.

With animals, we are used to being fragile with them, tender with them. It’s not like I would ever kick my cat! But then again my cat is not a huge 1000 lb beast I’m trying to ride. It's odd to have to be rough with horses. Finally I got her to stop drinking and away we went.

We started to get the hang of it after a few minutes. No more backing into bushes incidents. But there was a ton of tall grass and the instructor told us not to let the horses eat it. Well the horses had other ideas. When they put their heads down to eat, you were supposed to yank them up. Yeah, easier said than done. Jimmy's almost pulled him out of his saddle (such attitude!).

Between white knuckling my reigns, I did manage to get a few pictures (which are to follow next post). Sure enough when I took one hand off my reigns, my horse tried to eat some of the forbidden grass. Sneaky girl! She knew I couldn't pull her head up with just one hand.

I was really surprised at how much horse back riding hurt! After 1 hour, my butt was killing me. Not that I have a ton of cushion down there, but jeez. I'm still sore and it is 3 days later. It's crazy to think that was the main mode of transportation for a long time. I can't imagine riding a horse for days on end on a cattle drive or something.

I think at one point or another all 5 horses pooped. Yum! It was real pleasant when the horse in front of you went, and you got a front row view. Jimmy pulled his horse up next to mine, which you are not supposed to do. We were supposed to stay in line. Surprise, he broke the rules. Maybe that is why his horse was trying to shove him in a bush. Anyway, he pulled his horse up next to mine where it proceeded to pee a gallon of fluid for about 3 min. It peed so much it splashed up and got my shoes. Thanks hun!

By the end of the hour I felt like a seasoned pro. Ok not like a pro but I felt I had better control of my horse. And I had a ton of fun. I'm bummed that I can't do that again anytime soon. I need to make friends with people around here who have horses so I can go again!

Friday, April 8, 2011

A Different View

I wonder if this getting older thing will ever set in. It's so strange how it doesn't happen over night, but one day you wake up and things are just different. You feel different, you look different. You think about things differently.

I remember when I was a teenager my parents always teased me about the guys I liked. They were always these tiny scrawny guys that looked more like little boys then almost men. I hated facial hair and chest hair, anything that made a guy look over 14. I spent more time that I'd like to admit waiting in line for stupid boy band concerts, and spent more money that I'd like to admit on stupid boy band CDs. I guess that is part of the whole teenage experience.

I look at Justin Bieber, and I try to understand. I try to make myself go back 12 years ago when I was 15 and see what all the fuss is about. His songs are catchy, and he apparently is a rags to riches story which I love. But his looks. He looks like a little lesbian to me, and that is all I see. Not that there is anything wrong with lesbians (little ones included), but I just don't get the big fuss. Don't get me started on the swirly hair. I think maybe in 20 years he will be good looking.

While I'm married, I'm still a woman so if I see an attractive man go by he will probably catch my eye for a second. If a hot blond walks by when I'm with Jimmy I usually ask him if she is pretty. Not because I'm jealous, I'm just curious. And he was probably looking anyway. I’m not blind or stupid. Most times the girls he thinks are hot I don’t, and the girls that I think are super pretty he doesn't. To each his own I guess? It’s so weird how differently we look at people as men and women.

Anyway, somewhere a long the line I started looking at old guys instead of young guys. Guys with gray hair, guys with chest hair, guys with laugh lines around their eyes. Guys in their 40's (Gerard Butler anyone?). It's odd. When did this happen? I guess I could never be a cougar. One, I'm married. Two, I just don't like younger guys anymore.

Maybe that is why I honestly think my husband is much better looking now than he was 5 years ago. Not that I don't think he was good looking then. But he has filled out a bit thanks to Bank of America, and his face looks older. I love it. He looks his best at 30 and I think it will only get better from here, lucky me!

Thursday, April 7, 2011

I Guess I'm Not the Only One

I married an extremely intelligent person. I keep waiting for him to make me a ton of money off that...ka ching! Still waiting though:)

I don't normally get to tease him about doing stupid things because he doesn't do very many of them. Me on the other hand, not so much. Yesterday he actually called me the most scatterbrained person he knows. Not sure I agree with that extreme, but I am pretty scatter brained. I lose my phone/shoes/purse/head about 10 times a day.

Anyhow when I went on my trip to Arizona a few weeks ago Jimmy picked us up at the airport. When we got home he had cleaned the entire house! He had done laundry and everything. I looked at my whites and noticed something was not right. They were all pink...Hmm. Jimmy decided it would be ok to wash a bright pink/purple top with a bunch of white stuff. Now we have a bunch of pink stuff. I wasn't going to rag on him about that since he had just cleaned the entire house. But I was curious. Wouldn't you think after 30 years of laundering he would know not to put something pink/purple in with whites?

I asked him why he did that, and he said it was because he though once you washed it a few times it didn't bleed anymore. I guess I can see why he would come to that assumption, even though it was not correct. After all can we use some more color in our lives? Pink socks are much more fun that white socks.

Last night he had me laughing so hard. We were catching up on our Jeopardy episodes, we are super behind. We always try to compete with each other, trying to shout out the answers before the other one says them.

Anyhow, the category was "Rhyme Time" (oh Jeopardy, you are so clever!). So the answers had to rhyme. The clue was something like " An item a hiker my carry". The conversation then went like this:

Jimmy: Fanny Pack!
Me: Back pack!
Jeopardy Contestant: Back pack
Me (at Jimmy): Hun, they have to rhyme, that is name of the category
Jimmy (in all seriousness): Fanny pack does kind of rhyme a little bit
Me: Fanny Pack? Rhyme? I think you need to look up the definition of rhyme

That kept me laughing all night long, and I'm still laughing about it now. I'm not sure why I thought it was so funny. Probably because he never says or does stuff like this, and I always do. It's nice to not be the only one! They say misery loves company, I guess stupidity does too!

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Crossed Paths

I haven't had too many jobs ( about 5 or so) in my life. I'm not a job jumper. I get a job, and I usually just stick it out. I like my job more so these days, but for a while there I despised it. And I did nothing about it. I don't like to get out of my comfort zone.

Interviewing is so nerve wracking! I'll be honest, I am a pretty good hire. Not to toot my own horn or anything. Ok well maybe I will just a little. Toot toot. :) I'm extremely dependable, I'm a hard worker, I get along with everyone and am good with customers. It may take me a while to learn things, but that is because I want to do a good job and am afraid of making mistakes!

But going on an interview is like trying to ask someone out. You put yourself out there, and hope that they want you. Many times, they don't. Even if you are a good hire. Lots of people are good hires. And that rejection sucks! Actually, since I got my first job, I've gotten every job I interviewed for. All 4 of them. But when I was 16 with no work experience, people basically laughed at me when I handed them my baron resume.

A lady I've worked fairly closely with for the past 4 years just retired. I'm happy for her, but I'm sad for me. I wonder if I'll ever see her again. Thinking about that is depressing. I walk my her empty work station and it's painful to look at.

I started making a mental tally of all the people I've worked with in my life. When you are young, working part time with other teens the turnover rate is pretty high. But I've met some amazing people who have left lasting impressions. You spend a ton of time with some of these people, and then you or they leave that job and you never hear from them again. Thanks to modern wonders like facebook you can reconnect with some and see where they are in life.

I think they should have job reunions like they do high school ones every 10 years or so!

I miss a lot of my co workers, but I'm lucky to have some great ones now. I think about how many people I've crossed paths with in life and it blows my mind. I need to be better and keeping in touch with people, because I'm really bad at that. That will be my goal for the week.

PS, I'm dressed and showered today. And it's not even 3pm. Woo hoo! :)

Monday, April 4, 2011

Reality Check

This weekend was an interesting one. Brynlee was healthy for about 4 days, and then on Wednesday night she threw up on me. Again. Garden vegetables this time. Yum! I was naturally home alone, so I had to try to get her cleaned up and into the bath and get myself cleaned up as well. It was fun.

On Thursday she woke up with a fever. Not a bad one, but a small fever. She is cutting a tooth (can see and feel it popping up) so I thought maybe that was why and I sent her to daycare.

Day care called at noon that day and had me come get her because she threw up again. Ugh. Is this kid ever healthy? Her fever had gone up to around 103, so I started to get concerned. I made her a Dr appt for the next morning and had Jimmy take her. My good friend Dr Bean, he misses us if we don't see him every other week. They checked her for a UTI (which she was oh so thrilled about Jimmy said) but that was negative so they told us to just wait it out.

On Saturday morning her fever broke. Yay! On Saturday night she came down with a rash. On Sunday the rash was still there. Ok so she was healthy for like 6 hours before the next thing hit? I'm not sure if it's something she ate or if it's her bedding or what. I stopped washing her clothes in baby detergent a while ago and she has been fine. But her rash seemed to worsen when she was sleeping, which made me think it was something on her sheets. But the rash was just on her face and chest, not on her legs where I'd think it would be if it was something on her clothes.

Sunday I sat feeling pretty discouraged. It feels like we recover from one thing just to be hit with another and I'm so tired of it. I can't even imagine throwing more kids into the mix, bringing with them more illnesses as well.

I watched General Conference Sunday morning 1/2 paying attention. I kept racking my brain trying to figure out what was causing this rash. The first sessions of General Conference ended, and there was a program on during the break before the second session started.

The show was about this program called Eagle Eyes that a guy in Boston created to help physically handicapped kids communicate using their eyes. It was absolutely amazing. They hooked these sensors up around their eyes and using those sensors the kids could actually communicate via the computer. They could play games, and write sentences and answer questions. It proved that these physically handicapped people are not just vegetables. They are actually smart, thinking problem solving people. They are just stuck in bodies that don't work correctly.

One of the kids on the program was handicapped as a result of having bacterial meningitis when he was a baby. This boy had been born perfectly healthy. Now, he cannot leave his wheelchair. He cannot speak to people, communicate with them his hopes/fears/desires/dreams except via this computer program.

I felt like I was hit by a tidal wave. I started crying uncontrollably, and could not stop. This poor boy had the exact same thing happen to him that Brynlee had happen to her. I'm sure his mother would love for her biggest worry in life to be that he had a un identified rash.

I know you cannot live your life thinking of what ifs. But I did. What if I had not gotten Brynlee to the Dr in time? What if the Dr had not aired on the side of caution and decided to admit her to the hospital just in case? What if I had decided not to let them do the spinal tap?

I still haven't googled bacterial meningitis, because honestly I don't think I could handle it. I don't want to know. But here this show was, shoving in my face how completely selfish I was for being so upset about a rash. And being thrown up on. A rash?! It seems like a joke now.

To be honest I was a little distracted during the actual conference talks. But that show about Eagle Eyes Project changed me profoundly. I need to remember how lucky I am that Brynlee is healthy (for the most part) and happy.

I will continue to call/email my Dr all the time when something is off. People have teased me about this, but they can tease away. If I wasn't over cautious I might not have a baby to take care of right now. Better safe than sorry is what I say! I think I should send Dr Bean a present for being so nice to me even though I bug him all the time. He never makes me feel like I'm overreacting, or inconveniencing him. To me, he is worth his weight in gold!