Night Blogger

It's become a bit of an unwanted habit lately where I wake up sometime during the hour of 4:00, and if I can't fall asleep again soon enough, I patter around, getting a midnight snack, perusing the internet, cleaning. On this particular patter I cruised some favorite blogs of baby stories and pictures past. Warms my heart.

I'm starting to feel like it's coming ever fasterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Lots of unknowns, and if you know me well, you know I can't tolerate unknowns. I worry about the whole delivery thing. I worry he'll have some currently undetectable health problem. I worry he'll be a colic baby -- I was, and I'm probably in for some payback. I am just excrutiatingly curious about everything from what does he look like? to how will my body take it? to what does that sort of exhaustion feel like?

Elizabeth made me a list of things to bring to the hospital and what I should stock up on back at home (besides the obvious). I haven't always loved being a middle child, but it does come in handy in times like these. I've been trying to balance the R&R with the exercise, and Jeff and I are trying to maximize these last weeks as a family of 2.

The last 33 weeks have been sloshed with many more tears falling at a much more frequent rate than I was used to. Tears for many reasons. There's the classic "That's.....So.......SAD!!!" but there are also tears of just spending too much time thinking of how sweet something is, how grateful I am for the people in my life, etc. etc. etc. Last night I was reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and try as I might to be brave I was sobbing all over me, the blankets, and the couch. Jeff gave me a darling hug, gently took the book away and said, "If you're crying on page 14, maybe we should not read this book for a while." And then he changed the subject to happier things. I haven't really cried over religious matters in years -- I think I got it all out of my system in the MTC. About a month ago I was making the tiniest comment in Relief Society about nothing much and I had to pause 3 times to (in the end, unsuccessfully) try to maintain composure.

Since I cry easily when I'm very tired, I don't think that's going away for a while. Maybe a couple of people reading this just said, "Or ever."

The pregnant brain factor seems to be kicking up a few knotches a week. Today I was leaving the post office holding my wallet and some garbage. I chucked my wallet into the public trash can.

Here's to 4 to 7 more weeks of this weird, funky, fortunate, uncomfortable, unpredictable stay in pregnancyland. And a Happy New Year!

Christmas 2010

We were very merry.

We spent a night in Vegas on the way to and from the motherland destination of Bountiful, UT. My first white Christmas with Jeff's family, and I loved it.

I don't know how the holidays whisk by as fast as they do, and now I'm left with that horrid depression that it's over -- FOR ANOTHER YEAR!

We relaxed, read, played with technologies, tickled kiddies, and got fat (fatter if you're talking about the person scrapping together this blog post. There will be no more belly shots, THE END.).

My nephew playing Angry Birds on my phone until the battery power ceased to exist.

My mother always taught me to never drink my calories. Woops!

My niece and her Pillow Pet. "The Perfect $20 Gift!" I think I heard about 20 times over the last month mothers lamenting the existence of the unsightly Pillow Pets.

Speaking of unsightly plush items, on Christmas Eve we had an extended family party at "Boondock's", a Chucky Cheese sort of place. We all bowled 2 games and got some arcade cash because of the large group set up. We tested the claw grabber thingy and Jeff and I stood there with dropped jaws as the claw grabbed THIS blue and neon green bear/dog stuffed animal and deposited it in the receptacle! It was a Christmas Miracle!!

Then it was time to go home to beat the threatening storm. Sigh. On the road agin....

The biggest Christmas surprise was something I wasn't expecting to discuss actually owning until about 10 years down the road:

A dream come true SLR.

I am spoiled rotten. And just as I had completely accepted the idea that our child's life would be documented completely with cell phone cameras!

Once the initial shock wore off I looked at all the dials, knobs, and menus and became very intimidated. I have been reading up ever since, and even though I still feel completely unworthy of such a piece of machinery, this has been so much fun! Christmas morning I started snapping away at different objects in the house testing out the settings. Thus the hap hazards above.

We can't wait for next Christmas. I'm going to get that baby trained young to properly obsess over what is indisputably the most wonderful time of the yeeeeaaaarrrr!!!

Baby Advice

This one takes it all, probably because it was given to me while I was fasting, working on about two hours of sleep, had been in the lab doing blood work for hours, and I was waiting for this person to stop talking and draw the third of five vials of blood from my collapsing veins:

"With my first baby, I didn't eat Almond M&Ms, and my baby didn't have eczema. With my second baby, I didn't eat Almond M&Ms, and that baby didn't have eczema. With my third baby, I went crazy for the Almond M&Ms, and my third baby has eczema! He plays volleyball now and he scratches on the court and I think, 'Oh, almond M&Ms are bad for baby.'"

Thank you so much. I'll take that into consideration.

Everyone's doing it!

This doesn't happen often, but I'd say at least every other day (lately), someone will mention how awesome one of these two things is:

1. Trader Joe's Chocolate Covered Peppermint Jo Jo's

2. Jillian Michaels' 30 Day Shred

People are talking about these 2 so much I must first eat the Jo Jos and when the baby comes, burn off the Jo Jos and more with the Shred DVD. They go hand in hand. Synergy.

P.S. I've said it before, Jillian Michaels drives me crazy (who the heck does she think she is, and where did she learn the "spiritual voice" whisper???), but I figure I only need to listen once and then mute everafter. Mint + Cookies + Christmas has never driven me crazy. Just driven me to swoon.

Minus Before and After

I really need to remember to take "Before" pictures.

Picture a scraggly, cruel looking bush that runs on a flower bed separating our house from our neighbors, that is dying in the parts and has 3 random palms growing in strange places, for some reason no one can tell. That is what we used to have. It looks like it was our neighbors' property but a couple of months after moving in we were informed that it is OUR flower bed. Maybe it's true, or maybe he just didn't want to get rid of it himself, we may never know (although I'm sure we could know if we wanted to find out badly enough).

We ripped out that thing a couple of weeks ago. Many scratches, and Jeff gets the credit for the lion's share of the work. We transplanted the random palms into huge pots in the back yard. 1 of them is not doing so well, 1 is thriving, 1 was a lost cause before we could get it to the back yard. Then we were busy and had a dirt mound for a couple of weeks. No one sent us any hate mail so I'm going to assume the neighbors still are cool with us.

The dirt here in Ladera Land is more like clay. Maybe instead of flowers we could invest in a kiln and a potter's wheel and display our urns and paper clip holders (all I learned to make in 9th grade ceramics class) about our front yard, instead of buying flowers and watching them die in the crap dirt. To save ourselves the anguish of more failed flowers we bought:

nice dirt

and

manure.

Manure costs 99 cents per bag, in case you are in the market.

We also brought home gardenia bushes (I've decided these are an unexpected favorite!), geraniums, and english daisies for this flower bed.

If they fail, I will throw my hands up in the air and declare myself a gardening drop out. I will also get our money back from Home Depot, because they wrote their return policy, not me. But since we put manure in the dirt, I'm betting they'll grow. What more did they want? And I keep thinking me working with manure is a once in a blue moon type of thing, and then I remember I'm about to be in charge of diapers.

It needs to fill in, but here is the after shot:

Put THAT in your pipe and smoke it!

Merry Christmas, to our street!

Love,

The Hayes Family

It's time for your favorite thing: a pregnancy update.

- For the next 5 days I'll be stationed on Planet 30 Weeks. That means Baby could come in 7 weeks. And I would give to him an early welcome!

- I don't think I'll be posting a belly shot from here on out. Maybe if I'm feeling very daring, it could happen. Just picture my head on a body with a large watermelon protruding from my mid-section, and there you have it. One thing is for sure, I can't remember how I was ever this size -- and I'm even eating a bazillion calorie cupcake! Seeing cute babies gets me to quit fretting about it.

- Have you passed "nesting" and moved on to "psycho" if you vacuum your garage floor with a shop vac? No? Ok, good.

- He kicks like he's getting paid for it. If I have an open book or my purse resting on my belly, he can make the item jump off me. It startled my friend sitting next to me in Sunday School yesterday.

- Comical acts: putting on tights, getting up, sitting down, cooking at the stove (I stand slightly sideways so I don't crisp my tummy), changing sleeping positions.

- Watching anything on tv involving a woman in labor makes me extremely uncomfortable. When they showed Claire in labor (twice!) on LOST I felt half manipulated and half freaked out. My mom has always told us it's a big crock and there's nowhere near that much screaming, if any at all, so I'll just cling to that. I am willing, however, to make a fuss if it means getting me an epidural when I want one from a weird "holding out on me" nurse.

We're so curious and excited to meet him. A Hayes baby for us!

Feliz Navidad.

Saturday, my lover and I ventured out for the 3rd annual Jeffedith Christmas Shopping Trip. The weird thing: we needed nothing at South Coast Plaza, so we didn't go. I have, all my life, Christmas shopped at this particular mall, and one of our major family traditions was birthed and played out there, so the mecca of materialism found at 3333 Bristol in Costa Mesa just will have to remain one of the season ringer-inners, and I'll find a reason to go there another day.

As it was, we were such strategic planners and some things were more cost-effectively bought on the world wide web, so we just needed to drop in at the Spectrum. Done and done. And still, by the end, with Jeff in his recovery-mode from sick state, and me in my there's-a-baby-in-my-tummy-absorbing-all-my-energy state, we were pooped and bee-lined home to crash on the couch.

Christmas shopping, home decorating, and present wrapping under our belts, we have only to finish our debate over whether or not we're doing a Christmas card this year (only time will tell!), I need to figure out what I'm doing wrong with the candy I'm attempting without losing my patience and confidence as a Woman of the Kitchen (I've won the Fudge battle but there's something funky going on with my English Toffee and Vanilla Nut Fudge), and we need to know when we're going to be able to escape up to the Highlands of Utah for my first white Christmas.

As the Beatles sang, Christmas time is here again (repeat 20 times).

Hmmm

Does anyone have a recipe for something tasty that involves about 20 lemons?




Our tree decided to ripen it's fruits this week. More in the back.


-- Post From My iPhone

Thankgibing 2010

Twas the night before the Christmas season officially began,

and all through the house,

all the Eatons were sleeping,

for Speed Scrabble overdose and tryptophan magic.

We had a really great Thanksgiving. It was pretty mellow, all adults (the Jexies in Utah), and while we missed them, we kept reminding ourselves next Christmas will be the polar opposite so we should soak this in for what it is. Holiday 2011, in my parents' house, on top of the adults, there will be 5 small, small grandchildren (at least) and Cameron will probably decide it's a great idea to get married the day after Christmas or something.

Since we're all grown up my Mum wisely delegated and put her hard workin feet up. Jeff and I were in charge of the yams, Sarah and Hal took the rolls (which turned out amazing and exactly like Mom's!), Cam mashed potatoes, and Dad owned that turkey. My Dad loves to cook and it shows -- the turkey was somehow even better the next day. Mumsy did make the pumpkin pies too (sans crust because while it's perfectly acceptable healthwise to eat See's chocolates till you're blue in the face, pie crust is the truest form of evil). I threw in a "French Cherry Pie" which Jeff informs us has never been seen before in France to his knowledge.

We played out our food comas in front of While You Were Sleeping and Speed Scrabble. Mom was the morality police, looking up each word the winner claimed after each round. It may or may not have exposed a proper noun here and there.

Last night we took the annual trip to Roger's Gardens and to the "toppest tree" at Fashion Island.

Other than that we've spent the time knitting, gardening, blasting official Christmas season music (I've been listening to it for about 2 weeks already but never in Jeff's presence -- he's very protective of the proper timing to these things), and relaxing.

You really can't go wrong.

I remember watching a contraband episode of Friends long ago in which a pregnant Jennifer Aniston/Rachel Green was relishing in her baby shower. And why wouldn't she be enjoying it? She's about a million days through her pregnancy but her legs are still lanky and her Title 9 arms un-chubbed. This enjoyment started to wither, however, when her gifts began prompting questions of, "Why would I need that?" or "What's this for?" Before the third commercial break she had a completely adorable meltdown of, "I've been so focused on the pregnancy I forgot to figure out what I'd do with the baby!" [Cue audience laughter]

Even as a high school student, I watched it believing I would be very different when it was MY turn to be the skinniest pregnant woman alive. I was the 2nd of 4 children, and a highly solicited babysitter. And, I LOVE BABIES.

Now here I am, pregnant and the clock is ticking. After a couple of rude awakenings I realize I have been something of a pregnant Rachel Green, the flabby armed version. But I know there probably isn't much of a point to try to "figure it all out" before D-Day. When I got to Costa Rica for my mission, I remember thinking all the books I'd read in preparation, all the time I'd spent learning Spanish, all the lectures and lessons from returned missionary teachers in the Missionary Training Center, it was all a load of crap. NO, it was NOT a load of crap, but I may have muttered that under my breath a few times in that first week. It wasn't crap, it was just that they made us feel that we were prepared, and then I got there and learned you can't be. The mountains of time I'd spent training for my mission could be perhaps more accurately called "help". It was "helpful" to study Spanish and memorize scriptures, but it was not close to sufficient training. My scriptures were artistically hilighted in Provo and I was the best speaker in my district. I got to Costa Rica a pale gringa who didn't know Spanish could be spoken so quickly, and didn't even begin to understand who these people were, what they needed, and how I could help them. There were so many more variables than I had anticipated.

I have resigned myself to the fact that I am at the proverbial Salt Lake City International Airport all over again, and the adjustment to life after the flight will be just as difficult if not more painful. I have years of babysitting siblings, friends, nieces, and nephews under my belt. I have a bad-A stroller and the most comfortable glider of all the gliders in the kingdom. But I know that soon, I will be a rookie in the job I have always known to be my most important one.

Sometimes I panic when I am reminded that the world has changed a lot since I was a girl wearing a tutu day and night. Last month a child psychologist came to chat with the Relief Society about parenting tactics. I had no idea some of the things I would be up against. He offered more warnings and strategies for dealing with girls than boys and I left relieved that as of now, daughters are not my lot in life. Not so fast, Merz. The next Sunday's Relief Society lesson was about keeping our families safe from the evils of pornography which dealt more with, you guessed it, sons. I may have broken a sweat and in the middle of it my charming friend may have squeaked, "I can't do this! I have a little boy!" There are many times when I wonder how I'll ever keep up with the declining moral strength of the world and keep my home a happy refuge where my family wants to be protected.

At the end of these internal panics I usually just let an audible whimper slip out but come, again, to the conclusion that I will do my best and learn to swim after I've been flung into the Pacific. I have the examples of 2 strong, savvy mothers, Madame Meri and Madame Charissa, who will also continue to be premium grandmothers. Our grandmothers, aunts, sisters both Hayes and Eaton, cousins, friends, I know they are there to learn from and to comfort me and nudge me along. We have been promised by the general leaders of the LDS church that if we stay close to the Lord our families will be protected. I've never looked to a promise with such hope and humility, knowing that Jeff and I indisputably need heavenly help in this jou-- (ha! I almost wrote the "J" word on my blog!) -- I mean, in this new and everlasting phase of life we will enter in just a couple of months.

I take ever so much solace in knowing motherhood comes with a wardrobe a bit cuter than rayon dresses and orthopedic shoes and includes snuggling with my husband.

10 Gold Stars

will be awarded to Mother Meri.

Today she met me at lunch (and waited 15 minutes of her lunch break while I ran late) and showed me where I was going wrong with my Christmas stocking knitting. And she gave me some yarn.

Thanks, Mom.

My old boyfriend is getting married.

He just never knew he was my boyfriend.

In high school my BFF and I bought each other the People magazine Prince William special edition book about him for Christmas. We swooned. I think my mom was just happy my version of teen heart-throb wasn't Kurt Kobain. My wisdom to the happy couple is to get those wedding snapshots taken before the bald spot on top of his head flourishes further, and please, no third parties in this royal marriage. You KNOW I'll be up at 3 in the morning to watch the wedding stream live!

In other breaking news, I've become a modge-podger. Isn't that the final step to domesticity?

Viva Las Vegas

And viven the sisters we have that live there!

Friday we miraculously missed traffic while shooting up the I-15 to the suburban fringe of Sin City. Don't ask me how it happened, it just did.

It was, as usual, much too short. But we enjoyed it. Something perfectly convenient: Jeff and I each spring from families of four children. Until Harry graduates from law school and Cameron graduates from BYU (assuming afterwards they jet),

- We each have 1 sibling in Utah (and Jeff's parents -- extra bonus).

- We each have 1 sister in Palo Alto.

- We each have 1 sister in Las Vegas.

So basically we all hit at least 2 birds with every travel stone. The purpose of this weekend getaway was to see this treasure be baptized.

The ordinance was followed by plenty of food and long talks on the couch, motherhood recommendations and stories, just the sorts of things I love. Jeff twisted my arm all the way to the outlet mall (J. Crew), and we polished our Saturday night off with Kris, Elizabeth, the kids' Halloween stashes, and Susan Sarandon.

Normally spending anything longer than 30 seconds with Susan Sarandon makes me cringe and roll my eyes (hello self-importance and overly sought depth!), but I loved this movie, and liked her in it!

Sunday morning: More chats and stories and kids. Our families are the bees' knees. Why can't we be together more? And why didn't I put on some make-up before taking this picture of me and my E with our bellies?

Ah, tis too late now I suppose.

We somehow, SOMEHOW, missed Sunday I-15 South traffic coming home.

Our weekend expired with us watching Invictus and sorting through all the generosity shown to us by our sisters with their baby donations. (I'll never need to put money down for a onesie. Ever.)

Raise your hand if you love weekends!