The Forgotten Nephew

Not exactly forgotten, but....

As children go, for about 8 years there Elizabeth's kids were my main focus and the apples of my eye.  No amount of pictures, stories, information of any kind was too much.  I was obsessed, would brag about them, visit them as often as I could, think about them when they weren't around, etc.  When Julia, her third, was born I was the first to get to Vegas to help out, and when they blessed her Jeff and I were the only Eaton representation.  I know that I am partial but they are uncommonly cute and funny.  I just could not imagine it got any better.

Then 10 days before Jude was born, her 4th and final, Ian, came along.  I didn't get to see him until they were almost 2 months old, and by then, I was a changed woman.  The love I had for my sister's kids had not diminished a speck, but Jude had taken over everything and had the lion's share of all I had to offer.  Any time I would have held Ian, I was holding Jude.  My focus was just not the same.  And I don't think I'm really supposed to apologize for that; I dare any mom to say she loves any baby more than her own.

And it gets worse from there.  Now that Jude has this insane obsession with Apple products, I don't talk on the phone much in his presence because it only invites a tantrum.  So the anecdotes are fewer, the visits are fewer (traveling willy nilly being NIXED from life), and pictures are pretty much the only thing that has not diminished.  We have visited, and I have loved spending time with Ian, but the first thing that came to mind when I thought of him is the fact that he is incredibly sweet, go-with-the-flow, mellow, and accommodating. (That's a fraction of the info that would come to mind with her other 3.)

My exposure to and my bond with Ian has been waiting to be increased and strengthened.

So after the St. George family reunion, we hunkered down in Bountiful for a few more days and got to go see Elizabeth et al a couple of times.  And Jeff, Jude and I got to know Ian.

These pictures do not do him justice.  What a dream.  His eyes take up approximately 64% of his face.  He has frothy blonde curls and long, long legs.  He snuggles like a pro and oh so willingly.  He is chatty.  He does the cutest hand motions The Itsy Bitsy Spider.  He and Jude got along like old friends.  He is a Jex/Eaton production through and through, and Jeff and I have remarked on how awesome he is many, many times since mid-July.  They're coming down in a few days for Cameron's wedding, and as was my reaction toward past visits with Sam, Sadie and Julia,  I can't wait to get my hands on him, give him treats and campaign for favorite Aunt.

Ian, I love you.

By Week's End,

I shall blog my wedding photos. We were a weensy bit spoiled because our photographer, Kylie Nixon, had an assistant, and then my sister Elizabeth is quite the photog, as is my father-in-law, as is his lifelong friend Richard. So we have quite a bit of high-resolution photos spilling in, and until I have the last of them, I shan't blog it.

BUT,

Hey! We've been married 3 weeks, and guess what: we're totally pro. We've got it all figured out. So we thought it was time to help others. Our book, "How to be Married and Stay as Funky Fresh as We Are" will commence printing tomorrow, and our first 50 customers will be treated to a free pamphlet on "How to Use Your 2nd Bedroom as a Dumping Ground for Knick-Knacks, Papers, Electronic Cords, and General Stuff You and Your Husband Don't Use Often or Need but Can't Let Go Of".

And also,

Yes, she's real. Sometimes it seems impossible there could be something this cute, and let alone that she could belong to me (ok she really belongs to my sister+BIL, but whatever), but I promise she is in fact a truth.

And on this, the day of love, I pay tribute (again! I just can't stop!) to another truth:

I absolutely, positively, could not have married a sweeter man, or made a better decision. I love him more than I could ever hope to say.

And a Valentine Bit in parting:

O mistress mine, where are you roaming?

O, stay and hear! your true love's coming,

That can sing both high and low:

Trip no further, pretty sweeting;

Journeys end in lovers meeting,

Every wise man's son doth know.

What is love? 'tis not hereafter;

Present mirth hath present laughter;

What's to come is still unsure:

In delay there lies no plenty;

Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty!

Youth's a stuff will not endure.

William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

I am going to Vegas tomorrow, and I'm pretty excited about it.  Vegas is a nice little escape spot, even for a sober gal like me. 

And my friend Shauna hit it right on the head -- my life peaked in that moment when Adam Lambert got put in the bottom 2 on American Idol.  Bottom 2!!!  Ah, it just doesn't get much better than that.

And get a load of what I'll be chewing on tomorrow night:

Photo Shoot with Me and Miss Julia

some cute things i've beheld:

- niece and nephew drew pictures for me.  oh this is sweet, but can be stressful.  with the presentation of their fancy fingerwork they always ask me, "do you know who that one is?" and point to one of the many gender-neutral appearing figures.  "uh....julia?"  "no, that's ME!  and that's you right there!"  oh, of COURSE!  i always worry they'll be offended if i get it wrong, if it's not obvious to me that no, THAT stick figure with a bush of hair isn't a 4 month old baby girl, but a 6 year old boy!  but so far i've not pinched their egos.

- i was sitting next to nephew watching la conferencia, and i got up to use they ladies' room.  my nephew gasped and asked, "where are you going?  we were going to do that thing!"  i didn't have the foggiest what he was talking about.  then he winked at me and said, "you know, you were going to help me write that email???"  then i remembered, he wanted to write jeff a note.  

- my niece is currently singing to herself wearing a BYU cheerleader outfit over a long sleeved t-shirt and stretchy pants (it's cold in vegas still!), and marveling at her stickers.  

- i woke up to the smell of waffles.  elizabeth beckoned me upstairs to keep her company while she million-tasked.  the baby was crying so i scooped her up and we walked by one of the 3 tvs on which conference was streaming.  i paused to say to the weeping babe, "look, julia, that's president uchtdorf.  he's the most handsome general authority of the church."  julia stopped crying instantly and stared at the screen for a full 30 seconds before remembering she was hungry.  it's never too early in the morning to teach a small child.  

- sam gets seriously thrilled when president monson comes on screen.  

good weekend.

and i blogged all this during the hymn, so don't get all judgey mcjudger on me.

3 year old Niece's Bwessing on the food:

Heavenwy fazah, fank you fo dis day, fank you fo ah many bwessings, fank you....

pwease bwess we have a good famiwee, pwease bwess aunt mizzy wiw (will) get home safewy tomawow, pwease bwess sam won't gwab sings (things) fwom me, pwease bwess when we go to the san diego we wiw swim safewy, pwease bwess the food.......................................in the name of....

i'm a little confused on why she only wants to be able to swim safely while in san diego, where they are not known to even visit, but she's cute.  double cute.

my bags are mentally packed.

have you ever done that? shared a room with someone and when you got home for the night they were already asleep, so you couldn't pack for your trip the next day, but you planned out in your mind what you were going to stash in your bag in the morning?

well, i got myself a long weekend, and i decided i must visit far off adored ones.

jeff asked, "what are you going to do in vegas all weekend?"

my reply: "squish the baby."

i ask you, who wouldn't?

and i'll be smooshing these 2 as well....

i can hardly wait.

far too quickly doth he grow.

my darling nephew turned 6 today. for reasons of privacy and to respect his mother's wishes i shall call him mr. bungaloo. 

mr. bungaloo is the finest of the bungaloos that ever were. during my time in vegas he was such a little companion, often giving a hug, a zerbert/raspberry, a "joke" (4-5 year old original humor...oh heaven help us all), a request for a youtube video (see below...our favorites were the "3 laughing babies" and the how does she know song? from the movie enchanted.)

when bungaloo's mother lets his hair grow, he has these lush, dark-blond curls. several women have stopped elizabeth as they go about town and said, pointing to his mane, "oh that's going to be trouble someday." 

bungaloo knows himself so well.  he's thoughtful and deliberate.  he gives me advice on whom i should marry, and loves that dog of his.  he is to the young social scene as paul mcartney was to the beatles, and makes friends faster than you can say "bob's your uncle." perhaps best of all, he's a sweet-hearted boy and has many deep and profound brain waves moving around in his head that help him see all the incentives to being a good child (unless his sister has been left in peace for far too long).

bungaloo, on this your 6th bday, i give you an auntie's salute! many happy returns!  i love you ever so.

No Fair

1. Last Monday as I was exiting my parked car in the employee section of the South Coast Plaza garage, a then-secretly demonic Chloe employee zoomed into a U-turn to park on my left (I was parked at the end of the row), and swiped my open car door (which she didn't have time to see, what with her speedy mcspeeding and all).  Notice the ugly pouty lip on my once-upon-a-time cute-ish Scion xA driver's side door.  I filed a claim, she LIED a RIDICULOUS LIE to the insurance company, and (sssshocking!) her insurance company isn't accepting liability.  Oh, Miss Evil Chloe girl, we are so not through here.  When the insurance guy called to report, it felt like when someone stole $7 out of my wallet in jr. high.  Sort of like, "Hey, I don't do that to anyone else, what makes you think you can do it to me???"  I'm not one of those people that goes around saying, "The world has gone to pot!" but her cheap lie (she said that I hit her car with my door while opening it. ????) made me dishearteningly disappointed in humanity.  Shake it off, Merzy, shake it off.

2. About 10 of my friends are going to Europe tomorrow with airfare and board they purchased at a screamin rate.  (So maybe that's completely fair, I'm just insanely jealous.)

3. Despite his blood-curdling performance tonight, Adam Lambert will probably still be in the running tomorrow on American Idol.

4. This little muffin niece of mine is pulling full on belly laughs, and she lives too far away for me to hear them in person.  It's such a cheap shot for Elizabeth to email pictures like these.  Sheesh.  FINE, I will come and visit as soon as I am able!!  You got me!

Sometimes a little bit of venting on a blog really does feel better.

If you didn't believe what I said in the previous post about the excessive cuteness of my niece,

this is how she awakens:

It's cute enough to get the stimulus package working for ALL of us.

Disneyland is SO MUCH BETTER WITH MUFFINS!

Yesterday I went to Disneyland (CA Adventure if we're going to be specific) with The Jexies.  Being there with Nephew (5) and Niece (3) and Baby Niece (3 months) made it a million times more fabulous.  They were beside themselves with glee 90% of the time, and it was s'darn cute I hardly noticed my pride being pinched by Nephew's ability to go enthusiastically go on all the rides I couldn't handle with a dry face until I was 10.  ALso, I got to go on Tower of Terror with just Elizabeth, and her reaction was fantastic.  Blood curdling screams mixed with gasps of laughter, and my hand was well squeezed.   

I also got to watch Baby Niece so the rest of the family could go on a ride together.  She just smiles and smiles, gurgles and coos.  It almost seems...perfectly wrong how much she just charms and delights and looks at you with such appreciation.  She better just stop it or I'm going to kiss her chubby cheeks right off.

P.S. I got some insight into what sort of a horrid, uptight mother I'll someday be.  I was going on a ride with Nephew.  Maybe some of you have been on one similar (I have at Great America in NorCal); there are individual swings and they all lift up and swing like crazy.  I had never thought it was even a frightening ride -- a big deal for a pansy like me.  Nephew was good on the height requirement.  As soon as I buckled him in and got into my swing, I started to panic.  This is ridiculous.  Look at him, so small, so young.  He's in this loose little swing??  No shoulder strap?  Just him and a metal seat attached to yards and yards of chain?  Doesn't metal bend and break from time to time??? What if he's not buckled properly?  I leaned over and started jiggling Nephew's clasps and safety restraints.  "Aunt Merzy, what are you doing?  We're not supposed to grab on to other swings!  I'm fine!"  "Just...just..just...do you want to hold my hand, [Nephew]??"  "What?  No -- we can't!!"  Then the ride began and my eyes were glued to him, I was probably wincing, and he just smiled and giggled the whole way through, waving to his Dad and sister every time we passed them watching from below.  I think I shaved 4 months off my life, and gave him a bear hug of relief after it was through.  He was a bit confused but gave me a zerbert with the hug, and then said, "Aunt Merzy, don't forget your purse from the bins over there."

I love those muffins of mine.

Some razzle dazzle hilights from a fabulous weekend:

Let's talk Junior High School, circa 1994-1996.  Admittedly horrific years of Merzyhood.  Braces, acne, kanine teeth which grew in as tiny upside down triangles, bad hair cut, bad fashion sense, bad math grades (try as I might), and to tie a ribbon around it all (really, really tight with a double knot), my friends started smoking pot and getting frisky with the boys.  Boys with bleached hair, no less.  I lived and breathed for 3 things: Christmas Break, Spring Break, and Summer Break.  These were days I could spend listening to Simon & Garf with Annie and Elizabeth and Los Otros Eaton -- people who loved me whether I could deliver an Algebraic solution or not.  I would try to put them out of my mind when they were afar off, but as the calendar days crept closer to one of these hiatuses, I would silently express my excitement through the notetaker doodle.  All through the school day while Mrs. Parks or Mr. Robbins prattled on I would fill my notepaper margins with Christmas trees, Stars of David, Heavenly Hosts, Easter Bunnies, palm trees, ocean waves, etc.  I knew deep down that at some point these breaks would be over, and when I returned to these pages for test study, the festive images would taunt and haunt me.  However, pre-vacay Merzy cared not, and focused instead on the treat that lay before her.  And every January or end of April, I would partly resent those reminders of the now-closed Scholastic Respite doors, and partly rejoice that I'd at least enjoyed them while they were open.  Anyway my point: this past weekend I did not have to work, threw a surprise party for loverboy, skipped town and saw the Craigs for a bit, the  Reynolds for an afternoon/evening, the Jexies for Younger Niece's baby blessing, and came home to a loverly group of peeps watching the Tivo-ed Superbowl at Jeff's house.  I knew all last week that the weekend was going to be off the hizzie, and put out of my mind what I'd come back to (work, life decisions, healthy eating, taxes, etc.)  Now that the weekend is over (Monday dawns in 13 minutes), I drag a bit, but only just, as life is considerably better now than it was in the mid 90s.  I shall look at these pictures and remember the good times.  There shall be more good time images, too, for I have fotographer phriends.

Ah hem.  Le photo gallery:

Now that's just cute.  Nephew, Older niece, and Jex Grandpa playing cards on le couch.

If you say you don't think it's cute I shant believe you, not now not ever.

I think this picture pose is rather cheesy.  We did it because Younger Niece is crying something fierce, and this way it looks like the adoration is mutchal.

See?  My niece hates me.  And that's not the only reason this picture is rotten on my pride: I'm so pasty I almost glow (and not in the EFY way), and my growing-them-out bangs are poking my eyeballs, but still, it's from a smashing weekend, and so I love it in my way.

I had to throw this picture in. I find issue with it, but I am obsessed with its wonderfulness at the same time: Elizabeth and Merzy simultaneously and unintentionally enlarging their nostrils.  Smallish sized noses with tremendous nostril pulse capacity.  One sure fire way to tell if you're looking at an authentic Eaton or an imposter Eaton: how far and how frequently do they flare?

P.D.A. in the house.  Busted out by Kris as I was pushing the "click" on the camera.  I love Julia's expression, too; I think she knows exactly what's going on behind her and knows there's nothing she can do about it.

P.S. My sister Sarah and I both have competition now.  Older Niece seems to have a crush not only on Harry Reynolds, but one on Jeff Hayes as well.  She's 3; Elizabeth and Kris shall reap the East Winds when she hits teeny-bopper.

That's all for now.  As Cam used to say, G Night.

Sam, what do you want to say to people who read my blog?

From my nephew Sam: "This is Aunt Merzy's blog.  That's all I want to say.  I'm 5.  No, Aunt Merzy, write I AM 5.  My sister is 3.  My favorite thing about school is recess.  And Friday I like to have treasure box.  My mom had a silly mom song and it takes forever to get to the end.  And the song is in the Baby Einstein movie but she sings it silly.  And uh, I'm thinking...what was I going to say?  It's about moms singing to their kids.  Bye."

A job, a job for Merzy.

Look at that face.  Just look at it.  How those cheeks give me cause to squeeze them!  I just want to hug and kiss and love her.  As babies go, Younger Niece is totally boss.

Ok, I had to start with something about someone else, because the rest of this post is going to focus on ME, ME, ME.  As my Annie Reynolds once said, it's time to get my real on.

On October 3 I got laid off, which I have mentioned a few times already on this here blog.  I nursed my woes by scooping deeply from a Yogurtland troff that evening, watched Lars and the Real Girl, and then the next morning felt quite rejuvenated and confident I would have another job in a matter of days.  Come on, I'm bilingual, have had great jobs in the past and maintain close, friendly contact with previous employers.  I did the BYU diploma thing -- what's to not love about my employee channel?  I bring loads to the table.  Loads.

Then followed 3 months of a quiet horror.  At first I had lofty ideals of the jobs I would consider, but my selectiveness waned in direct correlation to my funds.  However, even as I became willing to broaden my interests, the great American economy did not listen.  While I knew I was one of many talented people in the "Day Club", I began to interpret my lack of responsibility as lack of capability.  The bloom wore off the rose of total liberation at warp speed, and I felt jealous of my gainfully employed, needed, useful friends and family.  I missed my business-cazh clothing and loathed the 12 year old "hoodie" look that my daily activities merited.  Grandpa McOmber was right when he said to be grateful for hard work, because we'd be miserable without it.  I wondered how long the economy, in all cruelty, could remain so horribly flat-lined.

But then

I got a job. I didn't even tell anyone for a few hours, and still other people in my "inner circle" for a few days, because it's a job, not a career (the pay will scarcely cover my bare-minimum living expenses). Still, it's a job.  Sometimes it doesn't feel true that I once again have somewhere I need to be every day, once again I will draw money from some corporate bank account and deposit it into my own to pay for things like, oh, you know, rent and the haircut I have so desperately needed. (The crop of snarly hair sitting atop my head is an abomination.)  I am so incredibly grateful that I have the chance to work.  While slopping around in the jobless mire I learned this lesson hard and cold.  I suppose this is all to my long-term benefit that I experienced this humility gala now, but holy shiz, glad am I that it is done and done.  And with that my pretties, I say have a good day at work tomorrow.

2 things:

#1 My fortune cookie implored on Christmas Eve: "Don't underestimate yourself. Your social skills are needed by others at this time." I knew it! Guys, I'm here for you. For reals, man.
#2 Whoever said money can't buy happiness didn't see my nephew Christmas morning, and had never crossed paths with a Wii.

P.S. to the previous post

Not in the name of terror, but perhaps jarring stupefaction and surprise, I have to wonder what was going on in my niece's head when they snatched this shot of her a few days ago?

Maybe her older siblings were doing their custom version of the Hokey Pokey. That could evoke such a reaction from anyone.

baby baby

i'm in heaven.  she coos and gurgles and has the sweetest little nose.  you can't tell from the pictures so much but she looks like my nephew, which means she'll probably look like elizabeth.  lucky girl.

heaven.

i knitted the beanie for the new muffin. i may or may not have made it to match my scarf.  toot too goes m' horn.

another update: the she-child has a name and lots of hair and a cute little face!

update: the she-child has a name!

we will be able to sing the beatles song julia to her. actually, they didn't plan it this way, but there is a beatles song about each of their daughters. nice work, e and k. the beatles are, after all, the masters of music.

her middle name is a flower, and there is a breed of this flower that is "of the valley." guess what it is for a...a...a SOMETHING! one of these days i'll think of an e-prize to give out on this blog. here's a guaranteed e-prize: more posts, more phlowery, phresh, phantastic posts, by MOI. i know, the generosity of which i am capable is boundless.

it's a she-child!

after months and months of thinking it was a boy, my sister has birthed another little female muffin. 7 pounds 15 ounces. a crop of dark curls sit atop her wee head. that's all i know for now!