Potty Training!

So long ago Eleanor was an itty bitty baby of barely 2 years old when she started showing a serious interest in using the toilet. I was pregnant with Winston and got tired of taking her to the bathroom only to have to awkwardly balance her on the toilet in my ever enlarging state. She would ask several times a day and not once did she get what was supposed to happen in there. I bought her the little practice potty, but as you can see from the next two pictures, she didn't quite get that either.

 

 Moo.

 

 And then wise mothers told me not to bother right before we had the baby, then people said not to do it during the summer (swimsuits and outdoor play aren't conducive to staying dry) and then people said not to do it before a big trip etc... etc... And honestly, I was getting the hang of two kids and wasn't too concerned. So we bided our time and pretty much let Eleanor potty train herself. Which she did. Then, early this summer (2012) she started using her little potty, so we made a sticker chart and set a prize and voila! Within a week she was dry all day and even all night. 

So she earned this. Well, a different one almost like it that comes with a better horse. I couldn't find the picture. 

However, she didn't quite understand act two, so to speak. She was staying completely dry, but having the ick accident once a day. Well, we made another sticker chart, got another prize (I wanted to buy it anyways) and within the week she earned that too.

 And she was so so happy! Look! It's Flynn Rider and Rapunzel in the boat with little plastic lanterns! How do you not want this toy? It's only the best part of the movie/year!

 I'm telling you, folks. I could write a book on potty training. Titled- "Just Wait A Freaking Long Time And They Will Do It Themselves". Ok, so maybe that's the whole book. Of course, now I'm enjoying the good life of a potty trained child and now want the baby done too. Oh well. I can wait two more years. Ha ha.

Eleanor's Eye of Sauron (Don't scroll down unless you have a strong constitution.)

*UPDATE!*
No stitches needed! Eleanor woke up today and the "eye" was totally shut. It hasn't opened or bled all day. I love the miraculous healing power of little kids. And yes, I know all this eye terminology is totally gross.

Gory story ahead, and gorier picture. Do not read if you are squeamish and definitely do not scroll down to see the picture unless you have a strong stomach.

I'm warning you!

Poor little Eleanor. She has been teething up a storm lately and as a result she walks around with her tongue sticking out. It's been kind of cute as she looks as if she is concentrating on something all the time. But sadly, today she took a tumble and bit into her tongue. Hard. I thought it wasn't anything much until I saw her mouth full of blood. Thankfully my neighbor Lexie was over and kept a cool head. Her extra pair of hands were heaven too, I don't know how I would've handled it all without her there. Once we got the majority of the bleeding down and a popsicle in her hand we could see that it was a serious gash. Seriously gross. Every time she used her tongue at all it would open the gash and bleed some more. It's about halfway though the depth of her tongue and it looks like an eye. I told you this was gross. If she holds still it stays "shut". But if she moves it a even a little it opens. Ugh. Lexie had heard that they rarely stitch up tongues in children as they would need to put them under or strap them to a board. And they usually heal up on their own in a day or two. Eleanor had calmed down, the bleeding had pretty much stopped and Instacare confirmed what we figured, so I decided to wait and see how she did. Aside from her trying to eat gravel (Seriously! The worst thing she could possibly choose. Heebie-jeebies, shudder, shudder, shudder.) she has been great. I think I will try to take her in tomorrow to see what the doc says and to make sure it's not infected, but otherwise it's just been a blip on the radar. Ok. Picture below, don't say I didn't warn you!
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I'm warning you! I'm warning you! I'm warning you!
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Danger Ahead!
Danger Ahead!
Danger Ahead!
Danger Ahead!
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You've been adequately warned!
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I warned you! Oh! I told you it was gross! Her tongue has it's own mouth/eye! Ullghhhrhhghrrgh! Seriously folks! Poor Clayton got a good look later this evening and nearly lost his dinner. I asked him if he hadn't seen it earlier, but he said he hadn't quite seen how deep it was. Luckily this picture doesn't quite show that. Blech! P.S. We tricked her with a popsicle stick to try and get a good picture. This wasn't hurting her at all, although she really wanted the popsicle stick. The neighbor kids got nice and grossed out too. Which is always kinda fun.

Sorry folks. And sorry mom and dad. I know seeing her with such an owie and not being able to hug her is truly painful. Again, she is doing great and has been sound asleep for a few hours now. Call me if you need updates.

Trying to Break the Grandparents' Hearts

Sorry mom and dad, but I finally had to take a picture of this today. Little miss sick moppet.

I know I'm not supposed to find this adorable, and trust me, in stereo it isn't half as charming, but I love how her lower lip forms a kind of "w".

This has been our week. Tylenol, Lysol, blankets and Kleenex. Yesterday and today have been a bit better, but it has still been one long crying jag. Since last Monday night Eleanor has been nice and sick. Since last Friday I've been sick too. Ugh. She went to the (freak of a) doctor on Thursday and got some meds but hasn't seen much improvement. He said she had bronchiolitis and that it was non-contagious. He acted like it was no big deal but then again, he was a big freaking freak. Now don't get me wrong. I appreciate doctors, normally I adore them! They bring an end to pain and answers to questions and I love them for training for so many years to be able to do that for us.

That said, here is my "Holy crap that doctor was awful" story.

This guy. He was the dr assigned to us by our insurance, so we just went assuming he would be ok. First of all, his office was icky gross, like old stained pictures of Porches and dusty models of tracheas from drug reps. (exam room 1- go see for yourself) How does a frame get stained dark black on half of the frame? Why doesn't someone change it or take it down once that happens? Second, he didn't have a baby scale! They weighed me holding E, then I handed her to the nurse and they weighed me again. Then the nurse did the subtraction in ink on the back of her hand. The back of her hand people! Am I crazy here? Or is that a little low rent? After the nurse took her vitals we waited for over a half an hour (the yellowed Claritin clock kept us well informed) before the doctor showed up. Now that's pretty standard, but it was a tiny room and it was hard to keep a sick baby happy even with her books, toys and bottles and what have you. So this guy shows up and he has another guy with him that writes down everything he says. The doctor tries to look in Eleanor's ears but gives up and says he can't see anything anyway. Um, what? He doesn't look at her again, doesn't listen to her breath, ask me any questions... just starts barking at his assistant by saying something then spelling it. He then asked the guy for some of the earlier vitals stuff which the guy can't find so I offer it (as I heard the nurse say it) but he scolds me saying "I was asking him!" Um, ok, freak. It was impossible to know when he was talking to his assistant or me as he never looked at either of us, but instead two feet to your right. I started to wonder if he was blind, but then remembered that he did pretend to look in her ears... So odd. He was talking loudly to his assistant and also into his tape recorder but of course Eleanor is crying now so I am desperately trying to keep her distracted, only to be scolded again at "touching" stuff. Good mother folks! Come on! Heaven forbid I hurt one of your free drug rep freebies from the 80's that are piled up to the rafters. He mentions that her abdomen was soft, um, he never touched her tummy, but whatev. We were in that room for over an hour at that point and I hear him say into his recorder "child is very agitated." Ya think? I'll show you agitated. I asked him if she was contagious and he waves his hand at me like you would dismiss a servant, all flick, flick. No. Um, ok then. Until you look at bronchiolitis online. Ya it's not contagious, but the infections that cause it are. Like RSfreakingV! Could you maybe give me just a touch of information here? Nope, apparently not. Then the cherry on top of this disaster was the pharmacist questioning the dosage on the meds. As the doctor prescribed the antibiotic for twice the amount of time that is normal. Ya, call me risky, but I think I will go with the pharmacist (and the subsequent internet searches) on this one. Freak. We are suppose to be going back in about ten more days, but I think I will be finding a new doctor in the meantime. Like not one who specializes in "medical weight loss" and perhaps has a baby scale. My mom asked if she got a lollipop at the end of her visit and I almost cried.

P.S. Um, so much for this post.

Baby St. Helens

Little Eleanor is a bit of a night owl. So I was terribly pleased last night when she was asleep before midnight. And even more pleased when she slept in quite late. I won't tell you just how late as it probably reflects poorly on me as a mom. She awoke only once and for a very short time to eat. I thought "Woo hoo!", but sadly everything has it's price. In the morning I changed a very, very wet diaper. I then fed a super-extra hungry Eleanor and halfway through I got to change a massive blow out. We are talking epic proportions here. Like she must have hired a special effects team to pull it off. After I got her outfit changed and cleaned up, she ate some more. That's when I went to burp her I got explosion number two. Only this time from her top end. She soaked my entire left side, most of her, the bed, the feather mattress topper, three of the four pillows on the bed and some of the floor. I didn't know which fire to put out first. I started peeling everything off everyone and everything. Before I got a chance to get our baths ready I see this. The worlds happiest and calmest little girl acting like nothing ever happened. Is there anything sweeter than a naked baby? Only an oblivious, naked baby.

How It All Went Down: Eleanor Edition

Warning: Hospital details ahead. If that isn't your thing feel free to ignore this post. I'll try to keep it on the less graphic side. This is mainly for my journaling, so I will not be upset if you skip on to the pictures.
P.S. I am typing this with one hand- as little Eleanor sleeps like a champ if she's being held. Put her down? Not so much.

So. Late one night on March 11th I was working on painting bins to go under our changing table. Clayton had taken two Nyquil and gone to bed early as he had slept poorly all week. I was happily mixing paint and watching HGTV. I had just enjoyed a ridiculously unhealthy (but so happy) snack of chocolate Haagen Dazs ice cream and a chocolate cupcake around 10:30 pm. At almost exactly 11 pm I got up to get a different paintbrush. As I stood up from the couch my water broke. Not sure how anyone can mistake that for something else. I guess not everyone has it go so dramatically though. I stood there like a moron for a few seconds trying to wrap my head around the idea. "Really? Now?" I truly thought it would be at least a few more days, if not a week. Then I thought, "Oh, poor Clayton. I have to wake him up when he's just gotten to sleep. " Also- I really wanted to take a shower. Which is something they advise against as labor can start fast once your water breaks. However, this happened to be a day when I had stayed in sweats all day working on projects, and hadn't found a minute to shower. I figured it was worth the risk. So I go in and flip on the lights like a mom to a teenage son. He immediately asks what's wrong and I tell him. "Really?" I know, me too. He is ready in like two seconds while I take my shower (Where I shaved my legs?) and put on make-up and throw things in a bag. When I apologize for taking forever his only comment is "You are the ticking time bomb." True enough.

Even with all of my preparation we get to the hospital around 11:30 pm. No contractions yet, they say after your water breaks it can sometimes take another two days to deliver. Due to risk of infection though, they want to make it happen within 24 hours. I am down with that. So we get all settled and prepped and meet the night nurses assigned to me. Heather and Leslie. Nice girls, why two? Ha ha- ya. They acted like it was normal, but the only time you get two nurses is when someone is training. So each "check" and procedure got done twice. Lucky me. Aside from the IV (arghh, get it in there!) and the "checks" it wasn't so bad. I was contracting, but not feeling much. I have pretty miserable cramps normally (Sorry) so it takes a lot to register as "ouch". I was progressing well, I thought. Either they got bored, or wanted the training to be complete, because after about two hours they started me on Pitocin. That got things fired up. The contractions weren't horrific, but they were coming about 40 seconds apart. Also- little baby would not hold still, so they had to readjust my monitors about every 5 to 10 minutes. As that made every one's life a little less fun, they decided to do the internal monitoring. If you haven't had the pleasure, it's two wires that go, well, internally. One has a little wire corkscrew on the top that gets inserted into the baby's head to monitor her heartbeat. Ouch. It was about then that the epidural started looking really good. I fretted about getting it too early, I'm not sure why. If you are going to get one, does it really matter when? I thought no. So Mr. Anesthesiologist comes in (possibly the best person in the whole hospital) and performs his magic and life is now a dream. The contractions were coming bigger than ever, but I blissfully took a nap. The only downside is the dead-leg feeling. Creepy. I kept getting grossed out by how fat and dead my legs felt. So bizarre, but totally worth it.

When the night shift gals were leaving I was at a 6+. When the day shift nurse checked less than an hour later I was at a 10! We waited another two hours to start pushing to let the baby descend a bit more on her own. An hour and a half of pushing and our little girl made her arrival into the world at 9:56 AM. Right on her due date. What a good and obedient daughter we have.

She has a full head of dark hair, which I love. Both of our families generally have bald babies, so that was a surprise. I think her eyes will be blue, but that wont be for sure for a while yet. She has my eyes and Clayton's forehead and tongue. Very long little tongue. She also has my hands and toes, down to the curled under pinkie toe. She came out crying and tried to taste and eat everything right away, including the bulb syringe they suctioned her with. She is pretty easy to calm down (except at 3 am of course) and loves to be held. Her new favorite thing (and mom's) is the noise machine that Aunt Jenni loaned us. It plays whale sounds and what not, but we love love love the heartbeat sound. It keeps her sound asleep twice as long as she usually would.

She has turned our world upside down, and we are thrilled about it all. I can't imagine how lame our life was before she was here. We aren't the most experienced parents just yet, but are slowly getting the hang of things. Like this little lesson.

Don't let your newborn watch Band of Brothers.

I like to think that she was too far away to really see anything, but she had this seriously concerned look on her face the whole time.

However, she has so far really enjoyed Twilight. I know- I'm a nerd.

...did they explode?

No they did not! (See last post.) Hooray! I bucked up and got dressed up to go out in the cold to retrieve the bag of beverages. I got there in the nick of time to find them firm but not solid. So ya- that truly must be what all of you have spent the last two days worrying about. I also got a nap before we headed to our prenatal class. Good thing too as it wasn't exactly a show stopper. A lot of common sense information, a lot of review of stuff we already knew and a lot of idiots asking either stupid questions ("There are no stupid questions." I completely disagree. There are plenty.) or questions about stuff the nurse JUST COVERED. But being the goody two shoes I have always been, I enjoyed answering the harder questions the teacher asked, even if just in my head. Ok, so most weren't really that hard. Or at least they shouldn't be. Did any of these people read their pregnancy books? Have they ever been around a pregnant person? Have they watched an episode of the Cosby show?

It reminded Clayton and I of our engagement. Before we got married everyone told us to read "Between Husband and Wife" by Lamb Brinley. Our sweet bishop even gave us a copy to read aloud together. So like good little troopers we did as asked. And laughed through most of it. I hope I'm not offending anyone who really liked that book. It was just a bit ridiculous. If you've taken even a Junior High level health class before, or have read a copy of Cosmo in the past ten years, then you really do not need to read this book. We felt bad for the couples who might have found it insightful.

So prenatal class is a bit like that. There was a lot of good information given, I just can't imagine getting to your 7th month or so, and not have picked up any of it yet. One good part was just the tour of the hospital. I hate not knowing where to go or what to do, so that put me at ease for the big event. We also enjoyed making fun of the other couples. Oh- by the way, we aren't good people. Sorry if you were under a misapprehension there. We didn't say anything to anyone but each other, but still. Very immature. The girls were all fine, it was just the annoying husbands who gained our disrespect. There was the Show Off, who apparently knows more about vaccines than the visiting pediatrician and more about episiotomies than the delivery nurse. The Idiot who kept embarrassing his wife with questions about how often things go wrong. The Front-Row-Joe who just would not shut up, and a few other characters.

Of course, then there's us. The two juveniles, who despite being a few years older than everyone in the class, could not stop giggling. Not over body parts or functions, no. Just our own amusements. However, anyone who might of heard us laughing wouldn't know the difference. So we probably looked like morons. Oh well. One thing that kept us giggling? Deciding early on that we could earn treats by saying certain inappropriate phrases aloud. Which ones? I'll list them, so if you are ever in a class like this, you can avoid them.

Sweet!
Yowza
Gross!
That's what she said.
etc...etc...

Ya- very erudite. So all in all, nothing exploded. Not our drinks, nor our heads from the wealth of information we covered that day. Although watching the birthing videos could make you get close. The vignettes on Chris & Paula and Lourdes & Jonathan were a special treat. Why is it that any video on childbirth uses a national geographic (ie: Extra nude, and usually a bit on the un-photogenic side.) couple as it's focus? I think it's because if you are willing to have a camera crew follow you around, you are a little more "free" with everything else as well. Blech.

For the record, the only people allowed in our delivery room will be me, baby, Dr and maybe Clayton. He isn't even 100% sure he wants to be in there yet. He's not the best around needles and such. In which case my mom would be a discreet alternate. TLC's A Baby Story often shows delivery rooms packed full with father-in-laws, brothers and even neighbors hanging out, videotaping the action from the "wrong" end. Seriously! Ok, so my head did just explode a little.

Were you maybe wondering what things I don't miss about my job? No? Well, then this isn't the blog entry for you.

So it is official. I am on Maternity leave. And it's weird. I have odd feelings of guilt, like I have a test I should be studying for and decided to play video games instead. It was definitely high time that I took leave, yet it has been one of the harder decisions I have ever had to make. I don't know who I think I am letting down here, probably just myself. And I have to fight the annoying thoughts of "Well, so and so flew this long", or "she worked right up to her delivery..." blah blah blah. I have to keep convincing myself of a few things to keep me sane.
I know that work was getting physically too hard for me. I know that I got "big" very fast while other women are "normal-sized" longer. (I know that I am fine, just the right size, and not a planet, yet.) It's just a fact that I cannot do a lot of the things that my job requires anymore. Let me list a few to make myself feel better. Thanks for indulging me.

1-Repetitive bending below the waist. My job includes picking up a million little things off the floor of the airplane throughout the day. I also have to cross seat belts and clean out seat pockets after each flight. This is a lot of twisting and stooping that is pretty difficult while pregnant.
2-Lifting luggage above my head. Even though flight attendants aren't really supposed to stow people's bags for them, it's always easier if we just do it. You would be amazed at how some people think a tiny back-pack wont fit ("Just let me do it!") and then others swear that their 800 pound yak (Thanks Brian Regan) will fit just fine. It wont. Even though I tried to refrain from helping people with their stuff, there is always a little old lady or disabled passenger that needs help. I also still had to stow my own overnight bag a few times each trip. Or carry my bags up a few flights of stairs a few times a week. Dr says 25 pounds is about the limit and that was getting harder to enforce.
3-Long periods of standing. I could usually take my jump-seat for a spell, but it is ram-rod straight and uncomfortable. I could also sit on an atlas container (the metal cupboards that hold the sodas, we aren't supposed to sit on them) but it is pretty low to the ground. So we stand. A lot. and it's not the best.
4-Long, long, long days. This is the one that got me the most. An average day is anywhere from 9 to 12 hours. That doesn't include the time it takes to get to the airport (1 & 1/2 to 2 hours), airport shuttle & go through security (1/2 hour or less at a good airport), ride to or from the hotels (5 to 40 minutes each way) etc..etc... When flying locals an average day for me was 15 hours from the time I left my house to the time I got home. Ugh. Three day trips had shorter days, but it meant I had to pack a bigger bag, which means more weight, which means more lifting... See the problem?
5- Long days with no real breaks and no real opportunities for a healthy meal. Breaks are random and poorly spaced throughout the day. Packing food for three days is a pain in the neck. Keeping it cold without fridges for three days is also hard. Not having microwaves available at half of your hotels is also a drag. Packing a sandwich and a banana, but then wanting the freaking airport Burger King instead, is also sometimes a problem (for me at least.) And as it goes in the airline business, a two hour break can turn into one hour behind schedule due to weather or mechanical delays. So that lunch break you were looking forward to is now gone and any other breaks you might have had are now eaten up in trying to get back on schedule. We eat a lot of peanuts.

And there are other things too. Like being clumsier and dropping things a lot. The bad winter weather makes it easy to slip on the hard tarmac (as I found out repeatedly). Super awesome hormones make me a little less inclined to patiently listen to the lady in 8C explain why she needs to hold her cat throughout the flight, even though he isn't a service animal and the person next to her is allergic. And the same hormones make me a little less sweet when the umpteenth person says: "WOW. Should you be flying?!" Because my honest answer is "Probably not." But they get a fake smile and a: "You betcha! Now what would you like to drink?"

So last Monday I was dressed and packed for a two day trip. I was battling the blizzard from heck inch by inch, to make my way to work when I finally wondered "Why am I trying so hard to do this?" Clayton isn't making me, SkyWest isn't making me... so who...?" Ya- just me. So I called in, talked to my chief and started my leave. I couldn't enjoy it at first, but today has felt like the first real day of my break. And I plan to use it. I have mounds of sewing projects I want to finish, rooms that have been begging to be cleaned out, and a baby to try and keep healthy and safe. That should be enough for now.

I know I will still face the "demons" of The SuperWomen from time to time. We all know at least one. One annoying brag-hag who makes you feel vastly inferior and lame. You know, the ones who seem to work full time everyday till they deliver, all while going to school full time, raising three other children under three, serving as the Relief Society president, and still finding time to out-quilt Martha Stewart. Well good for them, but I will close this entry with my mother's favorite poem of all time, which is in line with my current train of thought.

"Song for a Fifth Child" by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton 1938

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth,

empty the dustpan, poison the moth,

hang out the washing and butter the bread,

sew on a button and make up a bed.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?

She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue

(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

Dishes are waiting and bills are past due

(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).

The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew,

and out in the yard there's a hullabaloo

but I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.

Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?

(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,

for Children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.

So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.

I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep......

The bozo in seat 1C and stealing from other people's other blogs

I had to work a three day trip this week. Ugh. Tired, sick of airport food, sick of airports and seriously pondering how some people can be so mean and or stupid. Most of my passengers are super awesome, but it only takes one doofus to ruin a flight. Well done 1C. You are my winner of the most annoying passenger of the week. I wont go into details, and most of it is smell related, but a quick list would include:
1-Taking off his shoes to make the whole forward cabin and galley smell like hot, foot-death.
2-Eating corn-nuts. I am sorry if you like these, but on a plane they smell like #1. Wee. Ya got me here? Shudder.
3-Wearing Patchouli. A lot of people do not know what this is. It is a hideous oil that hippies wear to cover the fact that they haven't showered. So it is usually the overwhelming stench of patchouli combined with BO. Super awesome. (PS:He was in a business suit.) If you are unfamiliar with it, go to a head shop or health store and ask if they have it, smell it, and then remember the times you have hated it before, but didn't know what it was. Dave Matthews concert, college dorms etc... PS. If you don't know what a head shop is, then good for you. It's where they sell bongs and other "tobacco" related items.
4- He kept "shushing" me and the other flight attendant if we started talking in the galley. Bugger off hoser! I am allowed to talk to someone for the freaking three hours I am stuck in the galley with no where to sit and nothing to do. People talk on planes. Deal with it. If you are so special as to afford first class, then buy those freaking headphones that cancel out the noise.
5-He had all the room in the world, yet every time I had to walk past him in the aisle he would hold his paper fully stretched out into the aisle so I had to beg him to let me pass, or just push right past it with all of my giantess-glory. Which is what I chose to do after the first two times of asking only to have him deeply sigh and make a production of angrily folding it all up. By the way- he was on the aisle seat with no one next to him. He could have just shifted to his right, but I imagine he was making a point.
6- He ordered a white wine, took a sip and then ask for a red instead. Later he ordered a coffee with three creams and two sugars, took a sip and said he had ordered it with no sugar. Whatev. When he ordered a scotch on the rocks, took a sip and then "decided" he wanted a whiskey instead I thought the other flight attendant was going to show him the door. Some people.

So that was more detailed than I meant it to be. Wow, this is why I don't usually talk about work at home. Too much irritation.

Now don't get me wrong, normally my job is awesome and I enjoy being there. It has it's hard days, and now that I am massive and uncomfortable all the time it gets harder each trip. I might have one or two more weeks in me, but we shall see.
The only upside of being gone for three days is that I come home with a new appreciation for my cozy house, want to snuggle with my husband and get to catch up on blogs and e-mail. Like cute Allison's. She wrote an awesome bit about her "grown-up Christmas list" like the one in the Amy Grant song. Here is the link.
http://michaelallisonhansen.blogspot.com/
It was inspiring. She made the point that her list isn't as "world peace" as Mz. Grant's. Maybe a bit more materialistic. However, when compared to mine it looks like hers was written by mother Theresa. Anyhow, here is my blatantly stolen Grown-Up Christmas List. Thanks Allison. Let's start with the far fetched and work our way down. I'll go with twelve for the twelve days of Christmas.

1-For my pregnancy to be a breezy total of three months of baby kicking and nothing else, followed by a brief and easy labor.
2-To have Martha Stewart come and arrange my kitchen pantry and cabinets. And while she's at it she can invite Mr. William Sonoma over to update my pots and pans.
3-Since we are playing make believe here, how about Sufjan Stevens hanging out in my living room playing Christmas songs during the day. At night I would like Johnny Mathis. On special occasions like Christmas Eve we can invite Josh Groban.
4-To enjoy holiday eating without feeling like I am awful, cruel mother who is giving my baby the shakes by over consumption of Cadbury chocolate balls.
5-To have the gumption and time to paint the whole dang place. This one I could conceivably handle I guess. I dream of clean, matching walls that don't show the signs of five years of bachelor living. It would just be a major pain to take down all of the frames and pictures and move furniture and stuff.
6-To know how to organize my spare rooms better. I have craft and sewing stuff in every room of this house. And I'd like to have a crystal ball to see if I will ever really need that tube of paint or yard of lace, instead of hanging onto every leftover from every project.
7-For our fish to die. That sounds awful, but let me explain. He is old. Like six years old. For a fish that is like 147. All his friends died this last year, and now I feel bad for him. The fish friend I miss the most is the wall sucker guy who kept the tank nice and clean. The filter isn't enough, and I dread cleaning the giant tank he now has all to himself. I can't flush him or even give him to my niece. (As that is the same as flushing him. Sorry Abby.) Do vets put down fish?
8-For the winter to stay nice and dry, except for the week of Christmas, but then back to dry. And for the temperature to hover around 40 degrees or higher. And for none of this to affect the water levels or drought conditions.
9-To be finished with my shopping. I am almost there, and I have had a blast this year. But I have one standout, frustrating, blank that is still bothering me. What do I get *****? (Bleeped out name, not dirty word. This person is not a dirty word.)
10-To be able to paint, sew, photograph, bake or write what I really imagine in my mind. Lately a lot of my results have been more than a bit disappointing. To have the time and patience to really try.
11-To not have missed the last three Oh Sweet Sadie shows. Durr. I haven't stopped dreaming about a pair of green shoes I saw there (four shows ago) and can't find them online.
12-To have everyone happy this Holiday. And I don't mean that in the pageant way. It just seems like a lot of people are having a harder than usual time lately and it's frustrating that I can't do a thing to fix any of it. No specifics, as they aren't my stories to share, but there is a definite trend of really sad things happening. I hope everyone can get through them to a shinier and better, greener grass, sun is shining side of things soon.

Ok, like Allison asked: What would be on your Grown-up Christmas List?

Pregnancy is a Magical Time...

...and don't get me wrong. I love it. I have been so blessed and we are so grateful for the chance to start our family. That said, let me tell you about some of the "perks".
1- New Magical IQ Level Hint: it didn't get bigger.
To start, it took me three tries to spell the word 'magical' in the title. I'm not the world's best speller, but lately I feel like I need a dictionary just to spell my name. A few weeks ago I couldn't tell Clayton the fourth President on Mt. Rushmore. And now I can't remember if I had forgotten Roosevelt or Jefferson. I also couldn't tell him the President on the dime. F.D.R. in case you are pregnant too. Clayton wasn't buying the pregnancy brain excuse. Little bits of knowledge that I normally feel secure in, suddenly escape me. It's beyond frustrating. I really hope this scatterbrain feeling goes away after delivery.
2-New Foxy Body Hint: it did get bigger.
I'm not naive about what pregnancy does to a body. I also realize I am the last person on earth (it seems) to experience this. However, it still comes as a shock every time I look in the mirror. I am not disgusted or upset, just a little startled and then I move on. It's bizarre. I wish I could put into words how strange it all is, but as we just learned in topic #1, I'm not the writer I used to be anymore. The only thing I am concerned about would be my belly button. It has gone from innie to flat, and is now on it's way to outie. Bugger. And I know why. Not because a little person is pushing it out from the inside, no. It's punishment. Karma. You see, when I was 14 I was at the mall with my sister Jennifer. We saw a lady who had to be in her 10th month walking around in a very tight and bizarre stretch, stirrup-pant, jumpsuit thing. It was bright teal green, so it caught your attention. Well, she had the most pronounced outie that I had ever seen. So of course I ogled in fascination and horror. I didn't point or laugh, but I doubt I was discreet. Well, the memory is still vivid. More so now because I realize that she probably was at the mall walking around to try and get her labor started. She was wearing the ridiculous outfit because it was the one piece of clothing that still fit. And she was probably extremely annoyed that this stick figure 14 year old girl wouldn't stop staring at her. So now I will have a ridiculous outie because my anorexic looking, idiot 14 year old self made it so.

3-The Fantastic Unsolicited Advice I Get Hint: let's review what unsolicited means.
Let's start with Doreen from work. I flew a trip with Doreen when I was about three months along. Then I flew with her a week ago. She was eager to hear what the gender was and so I told her. The words were barely out of my mouth when she said: "Oh, I could have just told you that you were having a girl. Because with a boy you only gain weight out front, and with a girl you gain a ton of weigh all over." She made a circling motion with her finger pointing at all of me as she said it. Hmmph.
I would say that 95% of all of my co-workers insist that I not quit my job. Not that I asked them. It's just the first thing they seem to want to tell a pregnant flight attendant. Apparently being a stay-at-home mom is now the equivalent of working as a stripper. You really have to defend your notions, only to have them still shake their head in confusion or pity. Don't get me wrong, I think a woman should be able to choose what path she wants in motherhood. And I know way too many awesome women who are single moms or need to work to help the family or just choose to for a million other reasons. But who would of thought that people were so against the old fashioned June Cleaver bit? I've taken to telling people that I will decide when the time comes. Which is true. Never say never right?
People have told me I am carrying high, others that I'm carrying low, but no one just comes up and says: "Wow, you are carrying just right!" It's usually passengers on my plane. They have lots to say to me. Most people are sweet and well-meaning, but a few ask pointed questions like:"How long DO they let you work for on this job?" That's not a bad question, and the answer is- not past 7 months or as long as you still feel ok. But it's the emphasis on the question that implies that I am a freak. Understood. There isn't that much room for me on the plane, and it is rapidly getting smaller.
I also had a guy say he wanted to ask me a huge favor. Ok I say, thinking he needs help with a connection or something. But then he surprises me with: "GET AN EPIDURAL." Apparently he had to suffer through his wife going through some tortuous three day natural thing. No problem strange man, I will take your advice. I am of the "modern medicine is my friend" mindset. Seriously, how bad was it for him that he feels the need to spread the good word on pain killers? Poor guy.
Even my cute mother-in-law had a bit that I hopefully can't use. I told her about the first time I felt the baby kick and she said to "mark her words, that six months from that day is the day I would deliver". She acknowledged that it is an old wives tale, but that it was true for each of her babies. Let's hope she felt extra early. Otherwise I will be delivering a month and a half past my due date.

I have many more things I could say about this. Clumsiness, exhaustion, moodiness, bad sleep, new freaky things I learn everyday that you should NEVER do when pregnant, but I just did etc... etc.. I could also talk about the amazing things that I've experienced. Extra patience (from others towards me, not the other way around) feeling the baby move all day, getting to buy baby clothes... but this is long enough for now. So I will just leave you with this treat.
I wish I could say this was my Halloween costume, but no. This is the maternity treasure that I get to wear to work from here on out. This picture isn't properly conveying the frumpiness. It is apparently made at the Yearning For Zion dress shop. (PS. That's the Warren Jeff's compound.)

Rarrr!

Favorites Tag

Thanks Michelle. I've said it before, but Michelle Cannon has the best quizzes and tags. This is all about threes. Here goes.
1- 3 Favorite Last Purchases
A. Robot stuff at Oh Sweet Sadie. Little puffy magnets and wall clings. If we don't have a boy, I am giving them to Shauna, whose idea a robot room was.
B. I will say the shiny green shoes I didn't buy at Oh Sweet Sadie, because I now plan to hunt them down and buy them. I was all proud of myself for restraining, but haven't stopped thinking about them since. Durr.
C. Our Cannon Photo Printer. We actually purchased it well over a year ago, but I finally hooked it up. My life has been changed forever.

2- 3 Greatest Fears
A. Spiders. Generic, I know. But seriously. I can't even look at pictures. I love Halloween, but hate all the fake spiders that are everywhere. The giant ones on that Mt. Rushmore thing along I-15? They're killing me.
B. Street grates. Can't walk on them without trepidation. Long story.
C. Lava. The end part of Lord of the Rings with Frodo and Sam on the rock that gets surrounded by lava... therefore no where to escape? I have nightmares about that, only it's my house. Ugh.

3- 3 Favorite Movies
A. Emma
B. Cold Comfort Farm
C. Move Over Darling
...these change on a daily basis.

4- 3 Facts About Me
A. I love our fish Wart, but am worried about his loneliness. All his buddies died this year.
B. I wish we got the Bravo channel so I could watch Top Chef, Project Runway, Top Design and Sheer Genius.
C. I love my job, but hate going to work.

And when I asked Clayton, here are three that he decided for me.

A. I love when Kevin Costner does a British accent.
B. I love waking up to Rhiana's "Disturbia" playing from downstairs. Aerobics instructors are the BEST neighbors!
C. I think the best place to build a house is in the middle of a condo parking lot. Preferably ours.

5- 3 Things I Have Not Done Yet In My Life (and might?)
A. Tried Beef Wellington (it's so weird that Betsy just had it and blogged about it, probably wasn't her first, but I was just thinking about this yesterday.) or real truffles. (Not chocolate.)
B. Been to Asia.
C. Skydived or hang glided or hot air ballooned.etc... These are less interesting to me lately. Maybe....

6- 3 Things I Can't Live Without
A. Clayton
B. Good music
C. Good food

7- 3 Things on Today's List
A. Wash our cars, hard core.
B. Sort through fabric totes. (unlikely to really get done)
C. Sweep off our front steps.

8-3 Favorite Foods
A. Dad's turkey dinner.
B. Sweet & Sour Meatballs with rice.
C. Steak with mushrooms and creamed peas.

9- 3 Places I've Lived
A. Manson Washington
B. Rexburg Idaho
C. Fresno California. (ugh)

10- 3 Favorite TV Shows
A. The Return of Sherlock Holmes with Jeremy Brett. On PBS at 11 PM on Sunday nights.
B. Good Eats with Alton Brown.
C. The Soup with Joel McHale.

11- 3 Last Places I've traveled
Disclaimer- these were for work, so not too exciting.
A. Twin Falls Idaho
B. Denver Colorado
C. San Diego California

12- 3 Favorite Desserts
A. Dad's chocolate cake with his chocolate cream cheese frosting.
B. Banana Spring Rolls at P.F. Changs. (Bananas fried in won ton skins served with warm fresh berries over pineapple ice cream with caramel and coconut sauce. How is it not every one's favorite?)
C. Right now? Peppermint patties. Not really a dessert, I know. OK, how about Sam's Club or Costco cakes?

13- 3 Things I Would Buy If $ Were No Issue
A. A Disney cruise for each year for my whole family.
B. An awesome Serger machine. (They're not that much, just enough that it's hard to justify.)
C. A real Rothko.

14- 3 Wishes
A. Lots of healthy babies.
B. For no one close to me to die until they (or I) are super old. What am I, five?
C. For the election to be over. So. Sick. Of. It.

15- 3 People I tag
A. Kirsten of course.
B Shauna
C. Camille
D. Anyone who wants to. Oh crap, that's four. Only three? I wanna know what Monica and Tiff and Betsy and Leigh and Shelli and Jenni and..... you get the point.

Image Tag

Michell Cannon has the best quizzes and tags. http://mcannonfam.blogspot.com/ She did this one not too long ago and I thought I would give it a whirl. The idea is to answer the questions by typing your answer into Google Images and picking the one from the first page or so and pasting it in. It's so fun. Who knew that Michelle once liked Devon Sawa? Totally takes me back. Here goes!
1- My first name: Marianne. Marianne is also the title given to French liberty or values. This is Delacroix's Lady Liberty Leading the Republic. I liked it better than the porn that came up with my name search. So much for filters! Oh, I guess she is a little naked. Art naked isn't naked.

2-My Middle Name: Marguerite. This is a Marguerite daisy. I didn't know there was one.

3- My Last Name: Firth. Here is cousin Colin at his actual wedding to Livia Giuggioli. I thought that was cute. Ya, the first seven pages of Firth are pretty much devoted to him. Clayton is much sexier.


4-My age: 32. This is a famous photograph, I don't know the photographer, but it had a subtitle saying the woman was 32 years old. Made me feel pretty awesome. And pretty sorry for her. I imagine I too would look that haggard if I had 11 kids during the dust bowl.
5- Favorite Vacation Spot: This one is tough. So I choose two. First Paris.
And second, Disney Cruise.

6- A Past Love: Much much harder! At age eight or so? John Taylor of Duran Duran? Ricky Schroeder? Kirk Cameron? At age 12? That would be Jordan Knight of New Kids. In the end I went with my 14 year old obsession with Depeche Mode. Particularly Dave Gahan and Martin Gore. Major daydreams. Listened to 101 daily and imagined being Dave's girlfriend. Ahhh. By the way, all of the noted above have aged very well.
7- College Major: Fashion Design and Production.
8- If I was going to do it all over? Probably the same. I loved my major. But if I had to finish it now I would go all Humanities or Art History.
9- Where did I grow up? Manson Washington!
10- Where do I live now? Provo Utah! A million beautiful shots turned up, but I liked this one best.
11- A Past Pet: Sadly we were pretty tame on the pet front. My favorite though was my cat named Patches.

12- A friend's nickname: Well, nothing came up for Juliettabeth. So I went with what I often call Clayton. Claytone. And oddly enough this came up. I don't question such gifts.

13-My First Job: Aside from babysitting? I worked at Rocky Mountain Drive Inn. Ugh.
14- Favorite Food? Today? Possibly Chicken Marsala. Or Sweet and Sour Meatballs on Rice. Or my dad's Turkey Dinner. Or Sam's Club Cake.

Ya, I couldn't choose. Note: we never do Brussels sprouts and the cake should be chocolate.
15- My Favorite Color: Pink. Most of the time. Blue is a close second. An entirely pink painting of Freud holding a hot dog? Heck yeah!
16- What am I doing right now? Well this obviously, but I will go with how I am feeling right now. Nauseated. I am home sick from work today, thus the long and frivolous blog. I guess this poor bride looks that way too. Maybe her mom just had "the talk" with her.
17- A Bad Habit of mine: Popping my knuckles. Not because it is bad for you, it isn't. There are miles of research (Kirsten, I said research.) papers and studies on it. See here. Or ask any doctor. It's only bad because it annoys the heck out of people. For that I am sorry. Sorta.
Ok. I now tag Kirsten, Shauna, Sarah, Camille, Shelly, Elisa, Adam, Lisa, Darren, Allison, Alison, Monica, Tiffany,Leigh, Melissa, KaRyn, Jenni and whoever else. P.S. Once you find your image, look at it full size, right click to copy image location and then insert that in the photo uploads under add an image from the web.