Sorry Friends This is a Long One

For a long time I've been wanting to write about when little man was born. There is no reason that I picked today, just like I said, it was a big deal and I've been wanting to write about it for awhile.

So rewind a few years Shane and I are living the good life as DINKs (Double income no kids). Shane and I both have good jobs. We live in our first house that we love, in a community that we really love, and what should happen but we start feeling the need to do a little repopulating. So we decide to make a baby, we think its just that easy. I buy a few pregnancy tests and wait a month...negative. No problem, we'll try again next month...negative. Fast forward a year and a half, and five rounds of Clomid later. Still no luck and the increasingly high amounts of Clomid, are making me an emotional wreck (read raving lunatic) several days out of the month, plus we are moving from the place we love to a place I am not so sure about. So in honor of the move (and pretty much because I can't take it anymore) we decide to skip the Clomid this month. A few weeks later yep you guessed it...POSITIVE! We were pregnant (Go figure). I surprised Shane at work that day with lunch and a book for expectant dads that I had saved for almost a year just for this occasion. It was a great day.

So the pregnancy progresses and we both revel in the fun of planning for the baby. We find out that we are having a boy (which I swear that I knew all a long). We start thinking of names. We continue to get ready. When I am 31 weeks pregnant I go to the doctor in her fabulous new office. The nurse takes my blood pressure and says almost to herself "that's a little high." She reassures me that its not too high, but she wants to check my chart to see if its high "for me." Unfortunately she explains a few minutes later, because of the recent move she can't find my chart, but really its not that high so I should be fine until the next appointment. So the following Monday I go to work. I work in a non-profit organization with a whole flock of well meaning "mother hens." They drill me on my last appointment, they cluck their tongues at my lost chart, we move on. Tuesday, I can't bend my fingers very well because they are particularily swollen, Melissa my boss says she is worried about how swollen my face is looking, I think to myself "gee thanks." By Friday Shane has jumped on the worry wagon, and encourages me to call my doctor. I do, they encourage me to come in for a quick check. At the office they check my blood pressure. The nurse looks worried and sends me to "L&D" I innocently ask what's L&D she explains and I head down to labor and delivery "for monitoring."

In the hospital they hook me up to the monitors and start an IV line, all the while I am thinking, this will take an hour or so and then I will go home. HELLO! this baby is not due for another two months! I call Shane he is washing his truck. He comes right over, when he sees me all hooked up he turns into worried Shane. The doctor comes in and tells me to get comfortable I might be here awhile. We call our parents and invited them to jump on the worry wagon that apparently I am driving, they readily do so. My doctor is so on top of things (please forgive her for the lost chart it could've happened to anyone) she immediately has me injected with steriods (that hurt like crazy) and explains that the baby's lungs will get the maximum benifit from the steriods if they are able to work for 48 hours. Shane and I realize that the goal to keep the baby in for two more months is no longer attainable, and we start praying for just two more days. They move out of L&D to the women's center down the hall. On Sunday the neighbors come and give me a priesthood blessing. In that blessing I am blessed specifically that things will be fine, I wrap those words in a little receiving blanket of faith and tuck them in my heart for safe keeping. Sunday night I convince Shane to go home and sleep in his own bed, he does. We feel so glad that we have made it the neccessary 48 hours. At about two in the morning I wake up with a pounding headache. I am given Tylenol to no avail. The nurse takes my blood pressure, and announces that I have just won a trip back to labor and delivery. I meet my doctor there. She injects a medicine into my IV line my blod pressure starts to drop immediately. She sits down on my bed like a girl friend at a slumber party and says, "lets talk." She explains carefully that my blood pressure will continue to rise dangerously high until I have this baby, she fears that the baby will not fair well if my pressure contiues to rise. She says to me bluntly it's time to have this baby. I say o.k. and try to be strong, but start to cry, my body's shortcoming makes me feel like such a failure as a mother. She reassures me that the best thing I could do for my baby is have had those steriods for 48 hours, and this I have done. I feel a little better and know that even though I don't want it this way, and I am frightened this is the path that is laid out before me and therefore is the only one I can take. It will do me no good to sorrow over paths that are no longer open to me. (Looking back at this time I am particularily amazed at the reserves of strength that are hidden deep in the human soul. Laying there in utter pain and having the unknown loom before me, I did not fall apart, I just said o.k. and went forward. I know now that this is the survival mode that I have heard people talk about. The one that says to you we will cry about the specail delivery experience that you didn't get have later, we will be sad about the baby shower you were suppose to go to another time if ever. It doesn't matter that you haven't finished the crochetted edge around the receiving blanket, or that this babe doesn't have a special "coming home" outfit. Those things are already gone, and they don't matter. What matters is getting this baby here alive and well, and if you can stay the same that would be good too.) I ask the nurse to call Shane and a few minutes later he shows up. We are nervous but Shane is feeling like me, we must go forward. We agree on the name that we thought we had two more months to fight about. They wheel me into the OR, the anesthesiologist is someone in my ward as he applies the epidural I am flooded with relief of the pain I have been feeling. I am so relieved I forget to feel embarrassed about my pregnant naked body that is surrounded by a roomful of strangers, my husband, and the ward member (I do however remember to feel embarrassed several times after this event when I see him in the hall at church). I feel nothing, I concentrate on trying to wiggle my toes (which I can no longer feel). Shane stays near me and pats my head and arms. I feel alot of pressure on my stomach, Shane grabs my arm "I can see him! I can see him!" and then "he's almost out!" And then he is out, I hold my breath and say a silent prayer that he will cry,

please let him cry.

And then he does, like a little cat. THey hold him up so I can see him, he is small and purple. They pass him through the window into the NICU. He is gone so fast. They keep working on me, I remember my doctor expalining to the other doctor there about the stitches, like I was a crostitch design. They wheel me into recovery. Shane shows me pictures of Mason on the digital camera. I still can't move, but I also can't stop shaking. They get me ready to go back to my room. I remind the nurse that they had promised me I could see my baby before I go back. They call the NICU, no I can't come now. They take me back to my room, I ask the nurse there when I can see my baby she pats my arm and starts saying how I need to take care of myself first, I start to cry, realizing that I won't be seeing my baby today, the nurses around my bed cry with me. I am still on the mag this horrible medicine that makes me feel like I have the flu. Tuesday morning I call the nurse and beg her take me off the mag, she finally does. I ask her if I can see my baby, and she says I have to wait until my doctor comes. My mother in law comes to visit, I can barely stay awake while she is there, but Shane does all the visiting. When she leaves, SHane walks her out, I know she wants to see the baby, but I want to beg Shane not to take her in to see my baby, not because I don't want her to see him, but because selfishly I cannot bare the thought of anyone else seeing him, and loving him before I get to. Without me saying anything Shane understands, and doesn't take her to the NICU. My mom calls me she has a terrible cold and cannot come to visit, because she might make me or the baby sick, she cries when I tell I haven't seen my baby yet. My doctor finally comes and gives the go ahead for me to go to the NICU. Shane and I go together to see our little man. He is so small, I am afraid to even touch him at first, Shane tells me all about him and all the wires and tubes. I am amazed at how quickly Shane has made the transition to dad, and I love him for it. We cannot hold him, but Shane shows me how to change his diaper. I make a joke about how he said he wouldn't change diapers, Shane says with sincerity "I would do anything for him."

The next day little man is stronger, I get to hold him for the first time. He is so tiny I'm afraid I'll break him, with how much I love him. He looks so tired.

The next morning the doctor decides to put him back on the ventilator. It is miserable to see him struggling so much to breathe. He's on the vent for a day, and then taken off again. He does better this time. A day later we come into the NICU and the nurse is putting clothes on him. This is a very big deal it means that little man gets to move from an open bed to an enclosed one. It means that he is getting stronger. He still is not breathing fully on his own, and has a number of other issues to deal with, but this is progress, Shane and I feel so proud. A few days after that we get to give Little Man a bath. This is the first time since he has been born that we get to really care for him. It is a very special time for us.

Little man continues to grow and progress, slowly, but all the same there is progress almost everyday. He learns to breathe on his own, he starts to drink from a bottle, he continues to gain weight, and finally 32 days after he was born he gets to come home. We have no idea what we have ahead of us, but I am so proud of my little family for getting this far.

I had no idea, what having a preemie would be like. I learned that "mommy guilt" is a force to be reckoned with and you can feel it even over something you have no control over like Preeclampsia. I learned that it truly is the smallest things that take up the most room in you heart. I learned that I have so many loving people in my life that I can count on, and I also learned that there are also alot of people in my life that just want the gossip, and those two are not to be confused. I learned to stand up for myself, and that I have to stand up for my baby, because (if dad's not around) no one else will (so no miss nurse you may not play your loud, obnoxious counrty music in the same place where my hyper sensitive preemie is trying to live). I learned sensitivity. And I learned that I am a stronger that I thought I was. And most importantly I learned that no matter how big or small, strong or sick that they come, babies are gifts from God, and I am grateful for mine everyday of my life.

Thanks All

Thanks to all that responded to my coupon offer. I have now given out all of the coupons. For those who didn't get one, keep reading...I can say that this probably won't be the last time.

I can't wait to see what all you lucky recipients order.

C'mon I Know You're Out There

So for those of you who don't know a few months ago I started my own little business. I have worker really hard on it, and learned a ton, it's been a fabulous journey, but lately business has been a little slow (ok really slow). Which is not what I planned for my fabulous business, so today I am offering to my loyal readers a wonderful prize for reading today. The next three people to email me will receive a 40% off coupon that they can use on an order of custom announcement from Song Bird Design. Now I know that you're excited, but you are also thinking what's the catch? Well this is the catch (sorry) the coupons expire in one month, so only take it if you can use it soon. So send your friends with new babies, weddings, birthday parties, or any other major life event to announce my way. I promise you will love you your completely unique announcements from Song Bird Design.

The Weekend

Well dearies we're off. Terrified that the summer will end without us having squeezed every ounce of fun out of it. The fam and I are off on an impromtu weekend trip. I will post again when we return, with all sorts of tales of fun and misadventure. Until I return I have a questions for you all that I have always wondered about:

If Cinderella's shoes were such a perfect fit then why did they fall off in the first place?

Was it just an extra bit of magic from that wonderful fairy godmother (why didn't I get one of those)? Or can we say that perhaps Cinderella wanted to be found, and it was just an elaborate game of hard to get. If that is the case, you think she would have left a better clue than a shoe. Honestly that was a pretty big gamble, I mean its a little hard to believe that she was the onle size six and a half in the kingdom, but then maybe her shoes were such a perfect fit that they really would only fit her, but if this was the case then...(see above question). You see my problem, I just can't figure it out, so I'd love to hear what you all think.

The Hills Have Eyes...

They also have perfectly sculpted noses, blindingly white teeth, and large breasts, but what don't they have? You got it no matter how deeply you look, not an ounce of intelligence.

I have been thinking about this since I read Surcie's post about something similar. Let me explain, so last week I went visit my family. One of the things my sister and I always do on these visits is watch TV together. Now I know what you're thinking...huh? But seriously its good bonding time. We stay up late and watch all the shows that we're too embarrassed to watch with our parents around. So my sister introduced me to this show called "The Hills." Ok you've probably all already heard of it, but until recently I didn't even have cable so I'm not really up with what the cool shows are. So we watched "The Hills" together. Well, let me tell you what...I was appauled. This show is a reality show about some girls that live in L.A. They are a perfect example of what happens when you give someone everything they've ever wanted for 20 years. Seriously, these girls were ridiculous, their dialogue was absolutely insipid. In the episodes that I watched poor Heidi had deal with the devastating reality that her ape like boyfriend wasn't "treating her like a princess" (a line that she really would have been able to pull off better if she were four and dressed in costume jewelry). And then there was poor Lauren who had to make the daring decision to join her equally ridiculous boyfriend at the beach house, or go to Paris (a dramatic decision obviously engineered by MTV the show's mothership). Oh poor things! (my hand is on my forehead as I feign swooning). I thought to myself while watching this show what is the big draw? What keeps shows like this one on the air? Well the easy answer is: we do...I mean I admit it I was watching it too, but the bottom line is that it was entertaining. Like the bearded lady at the circus, my sister and I were drawn to this show, like the people slowing down and grotesquely straining their necks to see a car wreck on the side of the road. So then my next thought was what's wrong with that? and I think there are two answers to this question.

1. Nothing, its just entertainment, it doesn't matter. (This is the answer that all of the viewers have come to, and that is why the show continues to be popular).

But then there is answer number two and that is where the problem lies for me.

2. Its just entertainment, it doesn't matter. That's the answer. Its just entertainment, it doesn't matter, but all the while this entertainment that doesn't matter is seeping into our lives, taking up our time, soaking into the psyche of our little girls, and with this entertainment there is a message. The message is this...its ok to be a stupid person void of any depth, if you have the right clothes, lots of money from mom and dad, and a boyfriend; and if you don't have those things its o.k. to be absolutely, supremely selfish in order to get them.

Before being a mommy I was a social worker and let me tell you I have worked with children who have watched their father, weapon in hand, threaten their mother's lives. I have worked with children whose mother's have put their drug addiction before her own little ones even to the point of knowingly sacrificing her children's for those vile drugs. I have watched siblings, who feel they have no one but each other to count on being forcibly taken away from each other by the foster care system. I have worked with tired, broken souls trying their best to heal themselves and protect their families. And I can tell you: these. things. mattered.

So instead of seeing Lauren work at Teen Vogue, I'd like to see her helping (dare we say voluteering) in a child abuse shelter, or an inner city school, or somewhere else where there is need (Heaven knows there is plenty of that to go around). Instead of showing girls what they should have maybe she could show them what they should be. Can't we change the emphasis from what we can get to what we have done? I for one don't have time for this kind of entertainment anymore.

Yummy!

Here is one of my latest scrapbook pages for little man. This day I had spent forever trying to get little man to provide me with one of those perfect photo ops. He was playing in the pool (ok maybe 'playing' is being a little optimistic, since every time I put him in there he cried like he was on fire or something). I wanted one of those adorable photos in his little swimming suit, but little man wouldn't do it.



He refused to be cute while he was being forced to stand in that wretched, torturous swimming pool. So I got him out, but he was still absolutely indignant at the horrors he had been forced to face, and would not stop crying until a cookie was laid on the table as a peace offering.



'Ah yes a cookie, that will be enough to compensate for all of my pain and suffering mom.' And well little man I have to tell you that you may have won the battle, but I won the war, because I got my photo op after all.




And seriously, he is so cute isn't he?

"Let me 'splain...no there is too much, let me sum up"

Can anyone tell me what movie that line is from?

Well dearies, its been awhile. I know you all don't want to hear it, but wowsers, I have been busy. First you must all stand up and cheer for me, because one of the things that has been keeping me busy is that the Song Bird got an order. Now while I have filled several orders since I started this one was momentous because it was the first time a stranger has just walked in off the internet and ordered from my website. I was so proud. She really liked the collage type design in the Olivia announcement, that's also one of my favorite ones so it was fun to make her one like it.


Just for good measure I also made her some other new designs that also had the collage thing goin on.




And I also made her this one because I just couldn't reseist doing some recoloring on this photo.



She ended up choosing the first design. It was such a fun project to do. I just love making announcements for people, so I hope I will get more orders soon so that I can keep on doing what I love.

After I finished up that project Shane left for a business trip, so little man and I decided to go to Utah to visit my fam. What a fun trip. My good friend Sara was in town for the first half of the week. So we shopped and went to the zoo, and the park, and had afabulous time. Then the last half of the week I spent just hangin' with my family. I spent some good quality time with my sisters, and my parents. Little man got to really spend time with my parents which was so fun for them and so good for little man. We had a great time and really enjoyed ourselves.

Uhh?

I think my blog is broken. Has anyone else had troubles with it?

More Babies

I just finished doing a set of baby announcements for a friend. I have to say that I am pretty happy with how they turned out. I hope that she likes them too. Of course she said that she liked them, but you never know really. I mean, its not like she would say, "Nicole I hate these dumb things, why did you even make them?" Oh well, my self-esteem is telling me that I need to trust that she was telling the truth, since believing otherwise really isn't going to do me any good. Anyway here they are.

First I made her a few designs to choose from. This first one looks a lot like the "Madison" design that is already on the website. She told me that was one of her favorite deisgns, so I tried to make her something like it, only not so girly.


The next one is my favorite because it was such a lot of work to make. I know it doesn't really look like it, but it was. I also learned some new tricks on this one, which was really fun.


The last one was the one that she finally chose. It is a nice clean design, I just love the way that one little eye is peeking out to see what's going on.

Litigation takes the fun out of everything

I mean it. What is the deal?

Wait, let me explain. So today I got a lovely email in my inbox it read:

Dear Nicole,

Thank you for responding to the River Ranch website regarding the moth you found in your Popeye Spinach (including the photos) we appreciate you bringing this to our attention. River Ranch does everything we can to try to prevent this type of thing from happening. We would like to send you some free Popeye coupons for any inconvenience this has caused. Would you please email your address and I will send those coupons right away.

Thank you again,

Terry
Customer Service
River Ranch Fresh Foods,LLC

Isn't that nice? and I mean that sincerely, they responded quickly and appropriately to my bug problem, but still I can't help but hear a hint of worry in their admit no wrong doing, and offer coupons to pacify the customer email. I mean wouldn't it have been more truthful if Terry had just said, "We do our best, but hey! moths love spinach. What can ya do?" or even better than truthful it would have been downright funny if she'd said, "Ok you caught us, we're using Popeye to sneak bugs into the diets of all Americans. Can we buy your silence with some coupons." But of course Terry can't say something like that, because I just might be a crazy, mean lady who has her lawyer on speed dial and has been just waiting for the day when I find a bug in my spinach.

Yes I admit, finding the moth in my spinach was very gross, but really I'm going to live. And I do understand, moths probably do really like spinach. Now I know that I complained ALOT in that last post about the bug, but part of that was just showing off for some of my blogger pals. Really I think that the world might be a better place if we all cut each other a little slack now and then. Ya know what I mean? Then Terry could write witty emails to the complaining customers, and make them laugh. I mean really I think I would take a good laugh over a coupon for free spinach any day.

Ewwww!

So the other day I am making a sandwich and reach for the lettuce and realize that I am out of lettuce. Bummer, but wait no problem, I have a bag of spinach. Its not lettuce, but its got a picture of Popeye on the front and says right on it (and I quote) that its "thoroughly washed and ready to eat."


I know the picture is hard to read, but that is what it said. So I put a rather large pile of spinach on my sandwhich. In truth I was sort of hoping that all that spinach would sort of counteract the unhealthy parts in the rest of my sandwhich. Well I don't know if it did, but I do know this...about halfway through my sandwhich (which I was thoroughly enjoying by the way) I look down on the counter where some of the spinach had spilled out of the bag, and what do I see...





Yep! you got it a very large, very dead bug. EEWWWWWWWW! That's pretty gross, but then I realize that the bag is half empty. I have been feeding my family from the bug graveyard all week. I check the back of the bag and there I find it the ingredients.



As you can see it says spinach, it does not say big, fat, harry, bug carcasses, and spinach. No, its just says spinach. I have a feeling that Popeye is trying to trick me, just like years ago he tried to trick little children into believing that eating spinach would make muscles pop out of their shirt whenever they need them to fight off bullies, now he's tricking me into eating bugs, except mere manipulation won't work anymore now he's using downright underhanded trickery. So stop what you are doing right now and go check your spinach, don't believe the ingredients. Its a conspiracy and we don't have to take it.

Carrying the Banner...

Ain't it a fine life
Carrying the banner through it all?
A mighty fine life
Carrying the banner tough and tall
Every morning
We goes where we wishes
We's as free as fishes
Sure beats washing dishes
What a fine life
Carrying the banner home-free all!

Oh come on you all know what I'm talking about. I know me and all of my friends weren't the only ones that watched this movie like it was a religion. What moive say you? Why Newsies of course...



Ok I know you are all trying to be cool and pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about, but I know that in your heart right now your dusting off the place that is saved for Jack Kelly, and his pals (you know its the spot right next Johnny Depp in his 21 Jump Street days). And I know that you have a favorite newsie. Come on tell us was it Spot Conlon, Kid Blink, Mush perhaps? Or was it Jack...(the adoloescent in me sighs)



Why bring this up now well, this weekend I visited my family. It was a fabulous little trip, but at one point my sister and I started to chat. We started to joke about the songs that we like to sing with. She made a little bit of fun of the "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" CD that was in my car and then all of sudden we were talking about the newsies, and how we loved them so when we were younger, and how we used to know the words to every song, and then before I knew it there I was in my mommy car with my mommy clothes on and my mommy haricut, and my twenty-something sister and we were belting out the soundtrack to Newsies. Although I must admit that we didn't know the all words to any one song, we did know some of the words to all of the songs. It was so great, I felt like all of a sudden we had just gone back in time ten years (ok maybe 15).

So this post is dedicated to the Newsies, and all of the joy that they brought droves of thriteen year olds girls, and also to my dear friends, which is I guess what this post is really about, because as I was thinking about the newsies I also thought about one of my dearest friends who watched Newsies with me many a time on many a late night sugar enriched sleep over. It seems that adolesence is steadily becoming a more and more frightening stage of life, but mine was not so bad. I came out the other side of adolesence pretty much unscathed, and without having made any major detrimental decisions. Once Shane asked me why my teenage years were so good, and after thinking about it, I really do believe that it was my friends, I was truly blessed with good people to be friends with, and I still am...I can honestly say that my best friend from adolesence is still my best friend, even though she lives on the other side of the country, and we only talk to each other once in awhile during our babies' naptimes. How wonderful it is to share so much history with someone that you know that even if you didn't talk for ten years; even if you became the most important person on the planet. You would still have someone that wanted to eat doritos, drink soda (I think Mtn Dew was the drug of choice in those days), watch Newsies and sing all of the songs with you, until the wee hours of the morning. Even now I know my friend Sara is reading this and hearing the newsies sing "The King of New York" in the back of her head.

MUSH:
A pair of new shoes with matchin' laces!

RACETRACK:
A permanent box at Sheepshead races!

SPOT CONLON:
A porcelain tub with boilin' water!

KID BLINK:
A Saturday night with the mayor's daughter!

RACETRACK:
Look at me
I'm the king of New York
Suddenly
I'm respectable
Starin' right at 'cha
Lousy with stature

Come on go ahead sing it out loud I know you want to...

Been awhile

I know, I konw, Its been a while and I knoe you all (well the two of you that actually read this thing have probably missed me, but I'm back. I don't know how all you bloggers out there do it. Its so hard to keep this baby up.

Here's the deal. The Song Bird got here first real order this week. Woohoo! sure it was for my cousin, and sure I'm not actually making any money on it, but she did ask me to build a photo announcement for her instead of the other way around. So all week I have been busy with that and let me tell you what, it was so fun to do. I love the new job that I built for myself, I hope that someday soon I will actually have more real orders. I just can't wait anyway. Anyway here is the finished project:

This is the front


and this is the back:

The Story of Us

Title is a little cliche, but oh how I am excited to write about this one. I am so glad that Rachelle had this idea, because this is something that I have been really wanting to write about. The story of how Shane and I met is a good, one at least I think. It goes like this. Please bare with me, because I think that all love stories should be told as a fairytale.

Once upon a time many years ago (ok six to be exact) there lived a beautiful princess who lived in a cold dark smelly cave. Now I know what you are thinking 'Princesses don't live in dark, smelly, caves' but this one did. To be totally honest I admit at one point it had been an actual apartment, but years of being ignored by the greedy landlord had turned it into little more than a cave, where the poorest of poor college students were forced to live (even when they are princesses). I mean it, this apartment really was bad, you can ask Shane if you don't belive me. The princess wasn't the only person who lived in the cave, in the cave there also lived one of her best friends Jeri who had been on many adventure with the princess(someday I will have to chronicle the adventures of Jeri and Nicole, I tell those are some really good stories), another roomate who was engaged and therefore spent as little time as possible in the cave (since she had somewhere better to hang out) and a ferocious dragon (read roomate with serious passive aggressive, and overall grouchiness issues). The princess was generally really happy in the cave, if she was able to avoid the dragon that is. Now one day a friend came to visit me (yep you guessed it the princess is me) and told me all about some boy that she liked, well actually she swore that she didn't like him, just wanted to get to know him, but we all knew she liked him. So the next day at church I (I mean the princess) checked him out, yeah he seemed like a nice guy, so I gave her the go ahead on this boy. Well my friend asked him out and to make it more fun we threw together a group date. Well on the night of the date we met at my apartment and made dinner. I have to admit that if memory serves it wasn't even a very good dinner, and then after dinner we couldn't even think of anything to do except watch a movie. Someone had this great idea to build a fort to watch the movie in so Jeri and I dragged our mattresses out of our room and put them on the floor and then tried to use our sheets to build the walls of the fort, this didn't work very well until I had the great idea of stapling the sheets to the ceiling. So we built a fabulous fort and all watched a movie. After the movie ended we all went home, and I thought at the time that was the end of the story. What I didn't know was that as I was pulling down the fort and putting my bed back together (so as to avoid the wrath of the dragon), my friend on the date with Shane was at the doorstep to her apartment trying to put the moves on Shane*. Shane however wasn't reciprocating he was thinking about the fun girl that had stapled her sheets to the ceiling. A few weekends later Shane showed up at my doorsteps saying something lame like, "you and your roomates, should hang out with me and my roomates tonight." I was thoroughly confused wondering to myself "is he tyring to ask me out?" Well as luck would have it all of my roomates were out of town that weekend and I told Shane so thinking that he wouldn't want to hang out with just me. Truth be told I thought that he was after the Dragon (she was mean, but had some strange power over men, and attracted them constantly). Shane invited me to dinner and said he would be back in awhile to pick me up. What I didn't know was that Shane had to go home and tell his roomates that they couldn't come, because he wanted to be alone with this girl. So we went to dinner and then started driving home, we were both really digging each other and didn't want to go home so I mentioned oh so casually that I had never seen the wind caves. Shane quickly volunteered to show them to me, and so we went on a hike. On the hike I remembered that I talked, and talked, and talked, and I also remember that Shane didn't seem to mind. He really seemed interested in listening to me and that made me feel so good. I also noticed that he seemed really respectful of me. So Shane and I started dating, sort of slowly at first, in fact the first time that Shane kissed me I told him that I wasn't ready for that, and he said ok. I remember the next night he didn't come over, and I thought that for sure I had ruined it and that he had moved on to other girls, he was in fact at the time in one of the upstairs apartments snuggling with some other girl. Also in that upstairs apartment was Jeri's current love interest so she talked me into going up there with her. When we walked in sure enough there was Shane lounging on the couch with Julie. I felt so stupid and wanted to kick myself, because I really did like Shane, I just also had alot of other issues adding strain to my abilities to handle a relationship. I really liked Shane alot, I just felt a lot of pressure to do exactly the right thing, and so I was trying to proceed cautiously. So as soon as I saw Shane on the couch with Julie I thought it was over, but as soon as Shane saw me walk in the room he sat up and moved away from her so quickly that you would have thought that poor Julie had just burst into flames. Now Julie of course had not burst into flames, but she had noticed my arrival and Shane's sudden departure from her side, and she did quickly flee the room. Thinking back I can't really blame her for feeling hurt, but at the time she was the other woman and I hated her with a fury that lies within all women and only comes out when another female get in the way of her potential mate (come on you all know what I am talking about). So Julie went upstairs to her room and Shane (dramatic pause) followed her. Well then I knew that it was really over and I felt extra stupid, knowing that I was sitting downstairs, while the man I was in love with was upstairs probably smooching it up with Julie**. Well I was just about to leave when Shane came back and sat down next to me. He started chatting about some graduation celebration thing that he planned to go to, and then looked at me and said, "You're going with me right?" I was thoroughly confused, but of course said yes. Shane and I soon after left the party and went on a walk, things were just like they had been before, we talked and talked. I told Shane that when I didn't want to kiss him the night before I thought that I had ruined everything. Shane assured me that I had not and we left it at that. There were several days that followed where Shane and I were "friends." I thought that he was so great. We hung out almost everyday and loved to talk to each other. We went on about a million hikes and walks. Shane even went to the art museum with me. We loved being together, and one night we did kiss again and then I was ready, and it was wonderful, and after that we kissed all the time and loved it. Dating Shane was so much fun we loved spending time together. Shane made me feel so important and special when I was with him.

Shane and I dated for four months and were engaged for two...and have been married for five and half years. I am so glad that Shane found me. He is such a special guy, and I can truly say that we lived "Happily Ever After."

*I must admit that later as our courtship really got going that I did feel the need to ask my friend if she was ok with it all. Now of course she said that it was, I mean what was she supposed to say really...In my selfish girly heart though I distincly remember thinking if she says its not ok, I sure am going to miss being friends with her.

**What I only learned much later on was that Shane realized that he had hurt Julie's feelings and although he knew that he would leaving the party with me, he went first to Julie's room to apologize for snuggling with her in the first place when he really liked another girl, and then secondly for treating her like she was on fire when that other girl walked in the room.

Just a Quick Note

Finished this layout today and I wanted to post it on the blog.
My friend Tim made us this inscribed rock when Mason was born. I put it in the picture to show how far he has come.

Journaling reads: "On this day I wanted to show how far you have come. You started so small and so helpless. Even when you were only a few weeks old your dad and I were so proud of how you had worked to grow your own little self. Now that I see this picture I know that the truly special thing about it is not showing how far you’ve come, but realizing that your adventure is...Just getting started."

Myrtle and the Whoopee Cushion

SO the other day I Blog surfing and I stumbled onto Rachelle's blog and she had this great idea to idea to write an enrty about your life every Monday. Well I thought that this was a great idea, but I was way too busy Monday. So today finally the Masonator is on hour two of his nap and I finally have time to blog (of course he could wake at anytime, so lets just cross our fingers and hope that our luck holds).

I have been wanting to write about one of my best childhood memories which isn't really one memory, but sort of a conglomerate of memories surroinding one person...My grandma Myrtle. Now I know what you are thinking 'Oh great another weepy story about somebody's grandma' but just listen, because my grandma really was pretty amazing. When I was about 7 or 8 my grandparents came to live with me my five brothers and sisters, my two parents, our two cats, one enormous dog, and one little parakeet. Needless to say we were a full house. My grandma had multiple sclerousis and could not walk, or even get out of bed. She lived with us for four years before she died and in that time I never heard her complain once, I mean it not ONCE. I did however hear her tell many jokes. She and I hung out all the time...um, maybe that was becuase she was literally a captive audience to my jabber. I really did talk alot as a child, and I think everyone else eventually got tired of it, but grandma was pretty darn patient with me and listened to my stories. My cousins would come to visit all the time in those days (its a wonder our house didn't burst at the seams) and we would put on elaborate shows for our grandma. We just knew that she really loved them and felt so proud of ourselves for doing her such a service, we didn't know then that it was really she who was doing us the service, by making us feel valued and talented when she clapped at the end of the show. My gradma was amazing, but there is one that stick out to me today that I want to write about. It was on her birthday...Like always all of the aunts and uncles and cousins came to visit and brought with them cards and presents and cake and such, but when my cousin Sara gave my grandma her gift the party really got rolling. From Sara my grandma unwrapped a brand new fully functional Whoopee Cushion. Yes you read that right to my grandmother was given a Whoopee Cushion. If I remember right we had to show her how it worked, at its first successful deflation my grandma laughed heartily, and then asked that it be reinflated and carefully directed us where in the room to place it. I remember that it was placed under the cushion in the orange chair and that the next person to walk in the room was my uncle Reid. We were all very excited when we saw that he was going to sit in the very chair where the joke was planted, we all waited expectantly, but nothing happened...we waited and waited and finally Reid shifted his weighted and the ongoing conversation was brought to a screeching hault by the loud expulsion of air from the whoopee cushion. The only way to describe what happened next is to paint you a picture of what I remember about that next few moments. Just imagine my grandma unable to even lift herself out of bed, laughing so hard that she had tears coming out of her eyes. Laughing so hard that we all worried that she might truly hurt herself. Needless to say the whoopee cushoin was a hit. And my grandma was a truly amazing woman. I am so gald that got so much time to know her.

He Thinks I'm Funny

Once upon a time when I was younger and could stay awake past ten o'clock I was talking to a college roomate about some boy she was dating. The conversation inevitably turned to the real question which was, 'do you like him or not?' After the questioned was posed there was a great deal of rationalizing, and such and finally she said to me as if it was truly the answer to it all "He doesn't think I'm funny." And in that conversation it was the answer and unfortunately for the unexpectant fellow the end of the short lived relationship.

So this weekend I am driving down the road with Shane and we had a close encounter with a mini van. Well to show how clever I am I quipped out what I thought was a rather funny joke about the mini van (please do not direct any hate mail to me I know there are many happy mini van drivers out there, I just am not one of them), and my dear one he laughed quite heartily, and then rattled off his own brand of joke, and we had a good laugh. And in that moment I thought to myself how great it is to have someone who thinks that I am funny. I think if you have someone to laugh at your jokes and in return tell you some I think there is something truly fabulous about that. It seems like a little thing, but in the end isn't it the little things that really matter?

Back Again

Ok I know all you faithful readers (oh wait...) ok I know I really missed my blogging, but luckily I am back again. Newly resolved to start writing about my daily adventures in my blog. You see I haven't written as of late because I have been on a quest. Let me chronicle it for you...You might want to pull up a chair for this one.

Ok so about ten months ago I am having major mommy guilt because my little baby doesn't have a scrapbook, with cute little cute cut out pictures and such. I have about a million pictures of him, but honestly, and try not to judge me, I hate scrapbooking. I am not good at it and it takes FOR-EV-ER to do, and for those of you that know me you will lovingly nod your heads when I say that patience is not one of my virtues. So I am looking on the web for another option when I stumble upon digital scrapbooking. Oh I love this! No paper scraps, no glue, just me and my computer, how fabulous is this! So I read about a million tutorials, and I actually over the course of a few months become somewhat proficient at Photoshop, this is a major accomplishment for me and I feel very proud of myself. It is then that I notice that every digi scrapper whose anybody has a blog, so I build one of those too. Ok I'm really on a role now, I even learn a little html so that I can put links on my blog, and then it happens...my friend brings to me a picture of her little boy and says, "do you think that you could make this into an invitation for his birthday party?" No problem! I think, but then that invitation turns out to be really, really cute, and I start thinking wouldn't it be great if you could send someone your adorable kids pictures and they could make you a cute baby announcement, or birthday card, or Christmas card? And then I keep thinking and I think wouldn't it be great if people sent me their adorable kids pictures and I made then into cute announcements and cards. "Oh if only I knew how to build myself a website," I lament to my husband (who has two degrees in Computer Science), and much to my surprise he says,"html isn't that hard you can do it." WHAT!?! I think as I was actually expecting him to say "Sure love, I'll get right on that." So I pout for a few days lamenting over my lack of website for my fabulous business idea, and then I google 'html tutorials' and what do you know, its not that hard...Ok I take that back. Its a little tricky and it takes several weeks of very hard work, and I have learned a ton, but I built myself a website. I am so proud of it. I am still waiting patiently for that first order, but I know it will come, one of these days, it will come.

So that is where I've been the last few months, working away on my fabulous new business venture. I know you all have missed me, but I am back now, and ready to blog faithfully, ok semi-faithfully.

Blah

Ok so I have to say that today I feel a little bummed...Let me explain. It all goes back to about three or four months ago when I started to get excited for Mason's birthday. I know it sounds crazy, but I was so excited, I started thinking about what we would do and how it would be, and in my mind I had this beautiful picture of this house full of people. Shane's family was there and my parents and brothers and sisters had all driven in from out of town and were there, and Mason was adorable and funny and everyone fawned over him. In my vision of his perfect day he opens all of his presents and loves them all and plays with all of them, and then we all eat cake and Mason gets his own small cake that he eats with gusto and makes a big mess, providing me with a perfect photo op...

Let me tell you how it really went. First of all about two weeks ago Shane remembers that he is supposed to be on a business trip the week of Mason's birthday...uhg! Ok fine so instead of having the party on his actual birthday we decide to have it a few days before...ok small problem fixed. We decided to have the party on Saturday (yesterday). I decide that since Shane is going out of town Mason and I will go visit my family so of course they decide not to come up, ok fine. So I was a little disappointed at first but getting adapted to the new plan, and stayed up until one in the morning the night before getting things ready for the party. Before I slide into bed I tiptoe into Mason's room to check on him. On entering his room I am stopped cold, by the absolute most disgusting smell I have ever smelled, and I am taken aback. That wretched smell can't be coming from by my baby. I try not to gag and lean in to inspect. I reach down to lovingly feel my baby's head. EWWWW! my hand touches something cold and slimy, and I feel around and discover to my horror that my precious babe is sleeping in a puddle of vomit. (I guess its a testament to how well he sleeps now that it didn't even wake him up.) I leave the room because the fumes are getting to me and think about the best way to proceed. Everything I've learned over the past year says DO NOT WAKE A SLEEPING BABY, but this is crazy I can't let him sleep in that. So I go get Shane, he pops right out of bed, (he is such a good dad) and comes to my rescue. We pluck Mason out of bed and try to wipe him off, with the lights dimmed so he doesn't have to wake up too much, but we soon realize this is not a wiping off kind of mess, the damage is much more extensive than we realize. Shane starts a bath and Mason wakes right up (and is perfectly cheerful) I start to tackle the bedroom. YUUU-UUUCK is all I can say, but I eventually get it all cleaned up the smell lessens a bit and we're all feeling better when Mason pukes again. So we clean up again and then finally get our little bug to bed. He is happy as a clam throughout the entire experience and then goes back to bed without a fight. It was a wierd experience in all; from my description it sounds awful, but in a way it was a good experience. I loved working together with Shane to help Mason. I was so impressed with Shane, he really was great taking care of Mason, he is such a good dad.

The whole time though in the back of my mind I'm thinking, please don't be sick for your birthday party. So Mason sleeps through the whole night without anymore trouble and I am sure that he'll be better by morning, so a few hours later when morning does come. I give Mason a sippy cup of milk when he wakes up, because he is probably starving having puked out every last bit of his dinner last night. Well that was in his stomach about 30 whole seconds before it came spewing out all over me, I scream for help and Shane comes running with a towel, and poor Mason looks at us like, "What the heck is going on here!" Poor little one he is so sad and I am so sad (you would be too if you had just been covered in throw up," and well Shane he's a star, he snatches Mason up, and is so sweet and caring to him even though he is so stinky and gross. So we take Maso to the doctor he tells us to give him 1 teaspoon of pedialyte every five minutes all day. So we take him home and he is starving and we start giving him the pedialyte. Poor guy he is so hungry and so dehydrated, but he still acts happy as a clam. So when he finally goes down for a nap Shane runs to the store and rents a carpet cleaner, because the stench in our house is unbearable, and he cleans every inch of floor, and upholstery we can find (again I say what a guy). And finally the house becomes liveable again, (and I got my carpets cleaned to boot, woohoo). So we race to get everything cleaned up, because I am still trying to salvage the birthday party, and as we're cleaning Shane's Grandma calls, Grandpa is sick, very sick and won't be able to make it tonight. The poor guy has been sick for a year it seems and just can't seem to get better, we're all really worried about him. So that's very sad and disappointing, but we keep cleaning because at least Shane's mom, dad, and sister are still coming. So finally they show up and Mason is overjoyed, because they have brought the best present ever: a big bunch of balloons. And after Shane gets back from returning the carpet cleaner and taking his grandparents dinner we have a fun dinner, and Mason eats a little and doesn't puke, and we open presents.

Mason really doesn't get unwrapping presents yet, so Shane has to help him a lot, but he gets some fun new toys, and little outfits. I am most excited for him to open the present that I picked out for him, I am sure that he will abolutely love it, so he opens it and we put it together and turn it on...and it makes Mason CRY! In fact he's terrified of it, sigh...I TRIED! I REALLY TRIED!!!

So we still haven't had cake and so I get the cakes out, one big cake, and one little one for the birthday boy, you know the cakes I stayed up until one in the morning making and Mason is just too tired to eat cake, so at 7:00 pm we put the poor tired little guy in bed, and the rest of us have cake without him, no happy messy boy, and no photo op, sigh...

Altogether it was a nice night. Shane and I had a nice time visiting with his family, and then this morning Shane left on his trip, but I am feeling a little bit bummed today, I guess I just had so many expectations, and I was so excited to celebrate this birthday. I guess we have all come so far this year I really wanted to celebrate. Not that it was a bad day, just not what I expected. I probably sound dumb complaining so much, but you know what, after writing about it all I feel a little better now.

Super Boy

That's what he is. Yep, last night Mason was so delighted when I took his ball out of the dishwasher where he had left it and rolled it into the family room. He was in fact so delighted that he decided to go and get it himself. So we started out with the usual routine, he held my hand and started walking over there, but I guess that I wasn't walking fast enough, because next he just let go of my hand and started walking ON HIS OWN! He then walked to dad, the table, out of the room, he is a walking machine. I'm so excited, and yet there is this little piece of me that is saying, "who are you and what did you do with my baby," sigh... He changes everyday. I can barely keep up with him.