Little Z

There’s this crazy emotion I thought I knew. Till it changed. Till it evolved. No I am not sure. The written word has so many adjectives, yet I can’t find the right one.  I look at Brian, and I love him! More than I can express. He is my eternal companion. My best friend. My second half. The father of the best gift I have ever been given. He provides and only looks for better ways to help our family succeed. Often times, his accomplishments and efforts go unnoticed. Humble, handsome and helpful. I love him. Can’t imagine my life without him. That’s the best I can do to put it in words, but now there is another male in my life, and I haven’t quite figured how to syntactically put my emotions on paper. I look at him and I am in awe. Complete and utter awe. He is ours. It’s a completely different   form of the emotion. I knew I loved my parents differently than my siblings, and that’s different than the love I feel for Brian, yet none is more over powering than the other. Just a completely different, word boggling mess.  I haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t know that I ever will, all I know is when I look at his perfect face, tiny fingers and toes, and his remarkable smile, I fall in love all over again. They say a mothers love is like no other, and I guess it’s true, but I had no idea the level it was on. Only another mom knows. Its outstanding. No on to the fun part.

UPDATE!!!!

Zach is four months old now and literally the strongest boy in the world. Probably because in his blessing, his dad blessed him to be strong three times. He stands all by himself, except for the help of balance. He is working on doing a sit up by lifting his upper half all by himself. All this attention to strength has minimized his focus on the ever impending, rolling. He is getting close, but not quite there, which I am ok with. The more mobile he gets, the more real it becomes I have a baby boy. At his four month apt, he weighed 13.12 lbs, was 25 inches long and was in the 15% for head circumference. So 55% weight, 30% height. Tall and skinny. Unheard of from the George side.  He can reach for things, knows when he drops them and has discovered his fingers toes and thumb sucking. Zach sleeps 11-12 hours a night and doesn’t wake till he has someone wake him up. It’s absolutely glorious. When mom is doing house work, he is 100% content to jump up and down in his jumper. Often times, he falls asleep in there because he loves it so much. Zach has started cereal and loves it a little too much. He is going to bite my fingers off one of these days with his chomping ambition.  He is still in a size one diaper during the days and size two while he sleeps. He knows his mom, dad, grandparents and aunts and uncles. His smile will melt your heart away, and he has started to giggle. Zach is not an excellent napper, but I wouldn’t trade that for anything. He sleeps at night, which I love. He isn’t a big cuddler, and would rather just put himself to sleep for naps and bed time.  We visit grandparents often and he loves to play with them. He is such a handsome boy and always the cutest thing on the block.

Only time he really cuddled was when he was a new born.

One of my favorite pictures

He discovered his fist. Not quite the thumb yet though.

....and found it!

Kenny and Zach are best buds.

Love it.

Grabbing toys and sticking them in
 his mouth all while jumping. Multitasker!

Seriously, How did we get so lucky?

Who loves BATH TIME!?

Hey mom, get that thing out of my face.

Getting ready for bed and lovin' it.

Weirdo.

Ernie and Zach just practicing jumping.

...and sleeping.

Look mom, I am tired of this. Get me off my stomach.

Euphoria

Breath shortened. Heart racing. Mind spinning. My grip tightens around the words. Confusion, excitement and wonder. These are just a few of the emotions and physical aspects that consume my body as I read an enjoyable book. Euphoria through the written word. It’s appreciated by few. I am one of them. It’s similar to the masons. We are elite. There is a secret understanding and appreciation of what we go through when we are so involved in a novel, the characters become family. We cry at their trials, we strive with them through their accomplishments, we admire their integrity and we hate them with an unabated vengeance for their betrayals. Reading is a joy like none other. You can continue to be a child as you read a book. The unreal happens. The unimaginable escapes into reality. It’s consuming and becomes an addictive drug. You can’t sleep till you finish, food has no claim on your stomach, and all communication with the world is lost while you are in another. I love reading. I love sharing my excitement with anyone with a willing ear. Reading and discussing, then wanting to read that same discussed book because someone picked up on something you missed. It’s like a puzzle. Can you put all the pieces together?

Ten things I have learned about Zach in 6 weeks

Ten Things I have learned about Zach in 6 weeks
1.       His toots are extremely stinky
2.       When he eats, he gorges himself with the first few sucks.
3.       His little lower lip quivers before he begins to cry.
4.       Having someone hold him under the armpits and bounce him up and down is his favorite thing….ever.
5.       He makes noises in his sleep, just like his daddy.
6.       He can’t take his eyes off of bright lights.
7.       He stops crying when daddy makes insanely loud and obnoxious noises at him.
8.       Zach loves his swing.
9.       He snorts like a pig.
10.   He cries and cries, but eventually can put himself to sleep. Whoop!

Labor

Dear Zach,

So you have been here for just over a week and we couldn’t be happier. You are a joy, and one handsome fella. You gave me the easiest pregnancy in the world, and I was hoping for an as easy labor or better. You gave me the latter. Your two awesome uncles, Max and Eric slept over on a Sunday night. We played games, hung out and giggled lots. This lasted way into the early hours of Monday morning.  Around one in the morning, I decided it was time you and I got some sleep, though that comes rare…however I don’t blame you too much. ;) Well one thirty comes, and I head to the bathroom. No surprise. Then 2 rolls around…same thing. Two thirty….three…three thirty…same story. This is unusual. Over and over I have to head to the bathroom, compared to the normal, few times a night. I didn’t think much of it and I don’t think anyone else in the house even noticed. Then the sharp pains were coming and going. Again, I didn’t think of it much. They weren’t regular and I wasn’t hunched over in pain or in a dead sweat like you will see in the movies. Well seven in the morning rolls around and your sleepy uncle Eric had to get up and get to school. So like the responsible sister I am, I checked if he was awake….of course he wasn’t, so I got him up and he headed off to school….probably without brushing his teeth. After he left, I headed back to bed. I try to get as much sleep as possible, but with you taking up all the room and comfort, it’s all in vain. Eight a.m. comes and Daddy and I decide we better start our day. We have a Dr. Apt at nine thirty, which means we get to see you on the ultra sound machine. That’s my favorite part of the day. It’s not very exciting any more though because you love to hide your head way in my pelvis, so the best shots we get now are of your femur. It’s an exciting and cute femur , so we will take it. Max had class at nine thirty also and rather than going early in the morning with Eric, he opted to sleep in and catch a ride with us conveniently. The time came, we took Max to school, and we headed to the Dr. Office. Wesley Davis is a wonderful Dr. Zach and always takes good care of you. He asked how things were and if we had any concerns before he checked how you were and did your ultrasound. I just mentioned being up all night, being a little wet each time and the sharp pains that weren’t far apart but not exactly consistent either.  He isn’t one to jump to conclusions or to cause alarm quickly so he just said, well let’s take a look and see how far you are and if that water is broken.

We were at 90% effaced 3 cm. He took a test to check our water, which he stated he was 90% sure it was broken. Then the ultra sound. He saw plenty of pockets of fluid but still said my story was an excellent one so sent your Daddy and me on an excursion to the hospital to do a more accurate, water breaking test.  Well finding labor and delivery was the hardest part of the day. Who knew you actually had to go through the doors that said, “Labor and delivery.” After about 30 minutes of looking, and asking various people, whom were clueless and unhelpful, where we needed to go to have this test taken, we found a nice lady that escorted us straight to the test site. Mommy got all dressed in the beautiful hospital gown and socks and was placed on a bed. The nice nurse started doing all sorts of things to you and me. I was put on an IV for fluids….and she asked if I wanted some numbing stuff for the IV! Mommy just thought that was the silliest thing she had ever heard. Mommy is tough; she didn’t need silly numbing for the little needle. Then a round machine was attached to my belly and…whala! Daddy and I could hear your fast little heartbeat. Well about half an hour in, our nurse decided that we were going to have you today. So she prepped us and took us to a delivery room. By this time, mommy was having pretty annoying contractions that were about every three minutes. Daddy figured; we are going to have a baby today so he sent out the word.
You had lots of people anxious to meet you. And you didn’t keep them waiting.  Guess what Zach! We really lucked out these entire ten long months.  But the last day was the best of them all. We were in the delivery room; Daddy was making calls and what not, while you and I were enjoying watching Friends and having “grin and bear it” contractions. Then our nurse asked us a question about an hour after we had been laying there. “Are you ready for an epidural?” At this time, we were at a four so Mommy wasn’t sure if she should wait or not because those icky contractions weren’t bringing tears to her eyes, but they weren’t something I enjoyed particularly well. Well the nurse informed me that the anesthesiologist was going to be out of commission for my use for about three hours if I didn’t have it now, so that made my decision easy. We had the shot an hour after we arrived, Daddy didn’t pass out and Mommy was feeling much better. Uncles Max and Eric came by to drop off some things, like Daddy’s laptop and Mommy’s pink brush, and then headed home to wait. Our good friend Heather Stephenson was in the building and dropped by to say hello. Also Grandma Wiser, or Nana, brought Daddy some food and he ate it in front of me while I enjoyed a red sucker. Our nice nurse came in to check how we were doing and decided that since I was progressing well enough on my own, she didn’t think we needed this yucky stuff called Pitocin. We did awesome, and only had it for about an hour before she made the call to stop it. Zach, from there you decided you couldn’t wait much longer to meet your anxious mom and dad so you went from a 4 to a 10 in about three hours and only needed 15 minutes of pushing from mom. The nice nurse had us push a few times, then the Dr. came in, we pushed one round of 3, and then on the last round, he had to use this cool tool that helped you out because your cord was slightly wrapped around your neck. Daddy thought you looked pretty scary with a cone head though. That’s all he could talk about for a long time. At 4:17 that afternoon, you took your first breath, Daddy cut your umbilical cord and you were sent to be cleaned. You came back weighing in at 6lbs and 12 oz and measuring 19.5 inches long. You were beautiful, (you still are) and Grandma G didn’t think you looked like a newborn because you weren’t swollen much and didn’t have that “squished” look.
After you were born, we went to our room and visited with Mommy and Daddy’s brothers and sisters and mom and dad. Everyone took turns holding you and smiling at your beautiful face. We didn’t do much in the hospital except play and have visitors. You had lots of people come see you. But by Wednesday, Mom and Dad were ready to get you home so we packed up our bags and your loaded bag and headed home early. You didn’t like getting in the car seat at first, but once you were snug and tight, you didn’t make a sound all the way home.
Zach you made things pretty easy on me, and although I complained a lot, because my darn jeans didn’t fit, we will work on that together. You were worth everything and more. It’s so great to have you in our lives. You don’t know how much you are loved and by how many people. I will put it simply. It’s a lot. You have only been in our home for a week now, but here are some fun things we already notice about you.
1.       You HATE getting your diaper changed.  You do well getting undressed for it, but once we start taking it off, out comes the screams. And wow, you are a strong little guy. As soon as we get that diaper on and set, you stop crying. Just a modest boy I guess.
2.       Burping is a skill you are not void of. You get that from your Dad. We will feed you, and as soon as we go to burp you, you belch like a champ.
3.       You absolutely love belly time. Rather than laying on your back, which you do great at, you would much rather be lying on mommy’s boobs on your belly. You curl your feet way up close to you and snug your tiny hands underneath your head and can be asleep in a few minutes like that.
4.       When we tickle your lips, you pucker them up to give us a big kiss.
5.       You go through a million and a half diapers every day.
6.       Often times, you hold your pee till mommy takes off your diaper and then in spite of having your diaper changed, you will pee on me instead of in the diaper.
7.       You LOVE your daddy very much.
8.       You only fuss when it’s time for a diaper change, or at your 1 in the morning feeding.

Rumination

My siblings are my best friends. We have a blast, anytime, anywhere, no matter what. Just this past Saturday, Max and Emily came to my house at 1 in the morning, slept over and left at 9 the same morning….yet it was still a joyous, remembrance. We have something unique compared to other siblings. Don’t even try to explain to me that your sibs are as cool. They aren’t. It’s always amusing to be asked how and why we are so close and to be exalted as examples that others want their children’s relationship to resemble. They witness our closeness, our goofiness, trustfulness and support of one another and that hopeful envy runs through their veins. Not a day goes by that I don’t speak to one of my siblings and it’s extremely rare that a week goes by that I haven’t spoken to them all multiple times. We vent, growl, exclaim, yell and goof off at one another, and it all ends in tears of happiness. After this gloat, and some input from the younger sib Max, I will now start my post.

Nostalgic Thoughts
Stomping
Max and I were conversing about this exact topic one late evening, when Emily arrived home from an eventful Homecoming Dance. Immediately, and without pre explanation, we asked her, what does this remind you off…? All Max said was thump thump thump. Emily’s prompt response….WHEN MOM NEEDED US FOR SOMETHING OR IF DINNER WAS READY!!!! And she was one hundred percent accurate. In Otown, we lived at 475 Hiland Dr. The home of champions. It was an older house and not as spacious as the Land of Bugs’ abode. We don’t know when or how it happened, but as a calling, my mother would pound on the ground when she was above level, three times, with her right foot, and we would all rise from below and be at her side. Usually it was the dinner bell; at times it was because she needed all of us, and other times, it was done by my father, more sternly…because we were being too loud. But we all knew what it meant and we all missed it when we moved. Solution….we told mother, and she is now going to start stomping again. YES!!!!
Scurrying
The Otown home was also creaky. Floor boards made it impossible to sneak into the kitchen, or scare someone. But it had its advantages. If we were running, not in bed when we were supposed to, we would hear either an even thump, thump,thump, or a limping thumpidy thump, thumpidy thump. The former being my even legged mother, the latter being the not so even legged father, and we knew they were coming down stairs. The loyalty to each other vanished immediately. Last man for himself. We scurried to our rooms as fast as possible. Our outlines were left in smoke as we trampled one another to be in our required bed and not get caught disobeying, because remember, we are perfect, kind, obedient children. But things changed again when the Land of Bugs was our place of residence. We were older, didn’t have a bed time, and if we were up after we were suggested to go to bed, it was due to being studious and acing a midterm paper or test. Bleh, not as fun.
Don’t wake up Daddy
Do you remember this family board game? Well we didn’t have it. We made it life size. It often happened Sunday afternoons, as dad was taking a nap on the floor of the family room. I hated this game. With a passion. I would have rather consumed my time with playing Nintendo….and I hated Nintendo. But this game. Dad was sleeping…so we thought….and we would proceed to risk our life. I have no idea how I got pressured to join the other three insane George’s in playing this, but we would quietly prance around our sleeping father’s body, and see how close we could get to him without waking him….then BAM. He would wake, snatch one of us, and tickle our entire, stiff, yet squiggly bodies violently. It hurt, especially when the infamous scratchy goatee was included in the torture. Rashes were formed and he wouldn’t stop because we were laughing. “If you don’t like it, why are you laughing still?” Then we would do everything in our weak bodies, to hold in the laugh, he would let us go, and we again, would try to prance around his “sleeping” body. What in the hell were we thinking? How in the world was this game fun? But it all ended, when the head of the George family was taken away drastically. Bishop. Bleh. Sundays were no longer fun.
Clean up Game
Max and I didn’t talk about this last night, but previously we have and I thought, and still do think, we were genius. One Christmas, Santa brought noodles. Remember the swimming floatation devices? Well he brought those but they were all sorts of sizes, included connectors and were of various colors. You could build a plethora of gadgets, castles and even a helicopter with them. We used them for years! When I became of age to babysit, this is when I become a genius and knew my mothering skills were excellent. I would take one of these noodles, connect them to a sword like handle, and tell my three young naive blood relatives, that it was a vacuum and if this vacuum were to touch any toys that were on the floor, it would suck up the toy and never be seen again. Not only did the house get cleaned, I was perceived as a great babysitter because I got the house cleaned, but I also avoided cleaning at the same time. It was a game, I was in charge and the basement was cleaned in record time. The time arrived, when my second in command brother figured out my scheme. So instead of throwing the game in the trash, he joined in. Now we had two vacuums and two cleaners. And the cleaning proceeded to occur, all while avoiding actual cleaning. Right?! Motherly. Clever, productive, fun and twisted.
There are many more adventures of the Georges that occurred at 475 Hiland Dr. but those are to be saved for another time. Peace.

An Altered Excursion

If you know me even a miniscule amount, you know that my second home would be the mountains. I love everything about them and camping in them makes the experience of nature even more mystic. The tent, dew, cot, mattress, cool morning air, evergreen scented breeze, campfire, Dutch oven, greasy pancakes, dirt under your fingernails, bug spray, lemonade, out houses, fishing, books, oh the books, hot dogs, mallows, hats, no mirrors and yes, no Facebook. It’s my paradise beyond all stated utopias that are available. My dream spot, as stated if you follow previous posts, #16 Moosehorn campsite in the Uintahs.

The past 6 days, Brian and I spent our time in a slightly different location. Strawberry. It was pleasant, but not the cool, long sleeved weather I was hoping for. The bugs were horrendous, but as I have said, that’s part of the experience so I could deal with it. It was hotter than camping should be, but cooler than O town, so I coped. Fire building was different also. That’s where my vent comes in….
I am 8 months pregnant. I hiked Martins Cove a month ago and granted was more tired than usual but kept pace with everyone and survived. Camping should be no big deal…but it was so much harder than I had imagined. I try not to complain a lot because it bothers the poop out of me when people grumble, but sometimes its ok I found. I am extremely uncomfortable and have this sensation of annoyance when people say they love being pregnant. Granted I have had the easiest pregnancy in the world. Not sure if that’s because my pain tolerance is pretty high, I don’t make a big deal about stupid things, or if it really has just been super easy, but I still have not loved it. Actually, I can say I loathe being pregnancy. Maybe it’s the selfish side of me coming out, but I am thinking, only once more is all I can take. Don’t get me wrong, I have never wanted more than to be a mother. I cry when I watch shows with children, I have been groomed to be a mother and on this pedestal, believe I will be a pretty good one. I can’t wait to hold Zach in my arms. But that’s where it ends. I want him out of me. I want my old jeans back. I want to wear my wedding ring again. I want this water in my body to drain. I want to sit without falling into my chair. I want to get out of that same chair using my legs and stomach muscles instead of my arms lifting me up. I want to be able to lean over and start a fire in a comfortable position rather than attempting to squat and fall in (yeah, still started the fire though). I couldn’t sit in those darn camping chairs for more than 10 minutes without wanting to scream, I about fell backwards every time I got out of one; I had to pee every hour, in the woods…awesome. I wanted to hike and explore, but Brian didn’t want to rush me to the hospital and it was uncomfortable so the longest I hiked was 2 miles on a dirt road. The drive in was extremely bumping and I was having a Braxton hicks contraction the whole time in…it took 45 minutes on that road to find our camp spot. I wasn’t much help setting up camp cause Brian is cautious at letting me lift anything heavy or putting too much effort out. I felt totally and completely helpless and it drove me to insanity. Plus I didn’t get to fish, so it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Sunday I had a meltdown. I went to bed early, just to lay there because it’s impossible to sleep and Brian came in to check on me. I cried, told him I wanted to be done and I wanted my old body back. He held me and just let me cry. Didn’t try to fix it, he just held me and stroked my head. It’s amazing and what just a hug can do. He knew he couldn’t fix anything, but can’t say he knows how I feel so just being held was the perfect remedy. All in all, I still had a blast. It was a different camping experience and I was able to spend a lot of great time with my mother in law. We just talked and talked and read our books while the men hunted. Enjoyed the outdoors and the break from the day to day gung ho. Now that it’s over, Oct 13th seems so much closer. I still want to be done and have him here though. I am tired of everything hurting, even down to my fingers, but I have 6 weeks left. Pray for me…

CS

I am a supporter of CS. Not Lewis, but of Common Sense.  This post is going to be a ventation  (yep made that up) of anger and annoyance of those with the lack of. I read KSl.com at work sporadically, and it seems like all the articles are the same. Either someone has died in a raging water movement, the government has foiled with our finances again, or someone, primarily a women, has died by getting hit by the front runner or trax. The later is what my vent is about. There currently is a story about a woman that was walking parallel with the trax train in salt lake and decided to cross as soon as the oncoming train was passing. Whether this was suicide or incompetence, I get tired of reading these articles. How difficult is it really, to follow your mother’s advice and look left, then right, then left again? It’s not. For one thing, they are loud, second, they have designated crossing stations and third, if it’s the frontrunner, you have to go underneath the train warning poles. That there is clearly a sign to wait the…hmmmm…maybe 30 seconds it takes for the train to pass. It’s not fun to try and beat it, you aren’t cool and no one will think so. Especially if you are dead. Harsh? Maybe. I guess it depends on what their purpose was. If it was to be selfish and leave their families behind, fine. Mission accomplished. If it was to be cool, and set a new trend, fail. Dying will never be a trend. Grow up, have some common sense and think before you walk.