Proving that Opposites DO Attract

Hesitant to break the silence, I look across the room and ask,

"Honey?"

"Ya?" Andrew replies.

"As you know, I am in the process of preparing my bag for our (my) stay at the hospital. It's recommended that I pack a few 'light snacks' in case you get hungry." I pause, waiting for a spark of life to indicate that he is in fact, listening.

"Okay..." he mumbles. Clearly he isn't catching on, so I continue.

"Well, if you remember when Eliza was born, they didn't bring food to you. They only brought it to me. The patient." I remember it as if it were yesterday; the feeling of incessant hunger that giving birth had produced. During my stay at the hospital, it was like someone turned up my metabolism to "ludicrous speed." I anticipated each plate of hospital food the way I anticipate Cafe Rio, or better yet, Sunday dinner after fasting for two meals!And in my flashback, I see my faithful companion. The one who is spending sleepless nights in a hospital chair. The man who changes all of Eliza's diapers without a word of complaint. The moment the food arrives, he turns into a sweet puppy dog and it's suddenly HIS stomach that I can hear growling. Feeling the guilt swell withing my heart, I know that I ought to share with him, because this man who I love so much, would rather save a dollar than to pay a visit to the cafeteria.

THAT IS THE PRECISE REASON THIS CONVERSATION IS SO IMPORTANT! I am selfish and I don't want to share with him this time. There. I said it. Think less of me. It's okay.

Back from the flashback, I return to our nearly one sided conversation.

"What I am wondering is, what snacks could I pack to help hold you over? You'll be sleeping at home with Eliza, but in the meantime, would you like a few granola bars? crackers? -- You know, Andrew, buying something from the hospital cafeteria is also an option."

That was the ticket. I mentioned the idea of spending money. His attention is fully peaked. He looks at me thoughtfully and replies,

"Well, you know... there is a Costco right next door. I can skip (okay he didn't really use the word "skip") on over there when I'm hungry."

Completely astonished I remind him, "We don't even have a Costco membership. Costco sells in bulk. Why spend money on bulk food for a stay at the hospital?"

"They HAVE hot dogs... inexpensive hot dogs... pizza, you know, that sort of thing" He replies.

"Oh my gosh. Are you kidding?"

"Ya, I am sure my Mom would be as happy as peaches (he really did say that) to run me over there." He ensures me.
"Right. Here she is. At the hospital to visit her NEW grandson for the first time. Of course she'd do anything for us - but are WE KIDDING!? To save a FEW pennies, you'd like to go to Costco with our emotional toddler in toe for a hot dog when they probably sell hot dogs at a reasonable rate at the cafeteria?" I say. After three and a half years of marriage, I am STILL amazed at how different our thought processes are.

"Well... ya. So?"

The conversation ended there. My mouth was stuck in the "wide open" position, unable to respond. So, I think I'll throw in a bag of beef jerky, some trail mix and call it good to go.

And in case anyone's wondering what the definition of the word "Frugally Anal" is... here's your answer.I love you Andrew. You are my better half. If you want a Costco hotdog, you can go get one (under the condition you bring one back for me).

"Defining Melissa" - (wow, I have a lot to say about you!)

Do you remember in the fourth grade how it felt to be selected as the "Student of the Week?" Your picture was prominently displayed, your "likes & dislikes" were listed for all to see ... along with your pet's name, talents and future aspirations?

To my surprise, I was the recipient of that type of "star" treatment this week. During a quick blog surf, I cruised on over to check out the "Campbell's Scoup" (Melissa Campbell's blog) and discovered my face, smiling back at me - five plus times; along with her personal commentary.

In comparing these two situations, I must say that I don't remember turning beet red as a child or tearing up in private embarrassment at the attention... which is somewhat of a contradiction, considering that blogging is all about creating attention, but for some reason - when you're not the author of an entry that involves your life as a college student, it can leave you feeling exposed.

Fortunately, Melissa was generous and overly-kind in her Ali assessment. So for whatever reason (p-p-p-payback perhaps?) I feel compelled to introduce you to my dear friend and former roommate - Melissa.

(Sorry fellas, she's married... happily married)

Allow me to spell out a few of her stand-out characteristics; Sesame Street style!

M = Musical
Melissa is a musically gifted singer/song writer. Listening to her sing is a recipe for instant goose bumps. Her lyrics are poetry. I will never forget the way my eye balls leaked massive quantities of fluid as I watched her perform a song she wrote for her husband at their wedding dinner.

During our Rexburg days, to appease my need to feel important, she gave me the title of being her "manager" when she performed a song (that I suggested) at the BYU-Idaho talent show. I should have printed business cards verifying that I was her representation.E = Entertainer
Melissa and Allen (above mentioned spouse) don't fall into the "anti-social, young marrieds" category. Andrew and I slink in and out of social engagements and shamefully blame our absence on having a child. Melissa, on the other hand, is the glue that holds her book club together (oh crap, isn't that tomorrow night!?), the ring leader of her Bonko group AND throws a festive Halloween party each year (along with summer BBQ's, date nights, etc).L = Listener
When Melissa makes a friend, it's a relationship that will last a lifetime; partially because she is a genuine listener with superb eye contact skills. After coming home from an early morning date (it was an early morning/sunrise watching date) I came home with a desperate, college girl need to vent. To my extreme frustration, each of my roommates were sleeping. Knowing that she cared about the nitty gritty details of my existence, I had no problem waking her up so I could verbally dive into my thoughts. To this day, she's emotionally equipped to handle my ramblings.
I = In-tune
Melissa is in-tune spiritually. I observed her diligently study the gospel in her own quiet, humble way. She's in-tune with herself. She knows who she is, what her goals are, and actively makes progress each day to achieve them - a true "go-getter."
S = Stunning
You don't have to take my word for it - judging by my sampling of photos, it's crystal clear that Melissa is gorgeous. But trust me, it's worse (meaning she's even more beautiful) in real life. And I swear, she is oblivious to it. I'd leave conversations with new people who'd immediately make mention of her beauty when she was out of "ear shot" range.

S = Sassy
Don't let that pretty little smile trick you. This girl has a quick wit and isn't afraid to stand up for herself if necessary. "All the hotdogs, I put in there ... UGLY!" - don't ask.A = Adventurous
Melissa is a globe trotter. In addition to spending 5+ months exploring China and teaching Chinese children the English language, she's also spent time doing humanitarian work in Africa. She thrives on giving and serving others - which is one of the many reasons, she'll be an incredible Mommy in a few months.

A Poor, Nameless Soul's Unplanned "Discovery"

This afternoon, Eliza and I joined Nana Marie, Uncle Murphy (a.k.a. my brother, Mike) and cousin Emee at Gateway's Discovery Children's museum. Despite the fact that I snapped dozens of shots, the photos I took are a poor representation of how impressive and amazingly perfect this environment was for a curious Eliza to explore and play!!

With that being said, I'll do my best to portray some of the more memorable moments; and because I still have your attention, allow me to begin with the most traumatic.

Eliza pooped. Certainly this was not a big deal considering she pooped in a convenient, family oriented setting. I easily located a bathroom labeled "Family" a few steps away from all of the energetic commotion. It was fully equipped with a diaper changing table and a garbage that was already overflowing with stinky diapers (I often feel guilty when I am the first to taint a smell free bathroom with one of Eliza's "mess filled wonders").

After taking care of Eliza's business, I thought to myself,

"Go ahead. You're already in a bathroom. Make use of this opportunity. Your pregnancy infected bladder would certainly appreciate the relief."

Approximately 2.5 seconds after sitting down on the toilet (sorry for the graphic play by play), Eliza decided it was time to rejoin the excitement outside the bathroom door. I watch in utter disbelief, as she stands up on her tip toes, easily unlocks the bathroom door and SWINGS IT WIDE OPEN.

I was certainly not in a position to stand up at this point. Knowing in advance that it was a weak attempt, I begin to BEG and plead with my daughter to have mercy on the woman who GAVE HER LIFE by shutting the bathroom door - UGH, the door!! It was completely out of arm's reach.

How long would it be for a passerby would take notice of the panic stricken pregnant woman stuck on the toilet? Feeling helpless, humiliated and defeated I sat and waited for someone to make a discovery that they hadn't intended on finding (me on the toilet) during their $8.50 visit to the museum .

A small moment later (it felt like an eon) an innocent, alarmed woman saw me as she rounded the corner.

"Oh, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean too..." her apology began.

Good grief, kind lady, you didn't do anything wrong! Thankfully, she shut the door on my behalf and I was finally able to exhale again.

If you've endured the length of this story, you deserve to see the view from the outside looking in.Do you see that toilet? Yes, that's where I was... now just factor in two dozen children/adults walking around and that about captures the essence of the moment.

I need her address. Anyone have it?

Dear Mother Nature,

In a world that has increasingly become filled with distraction, noise and sleeping aids;

(oh, what I would give to be allowed a swig of this)

I am in awe by how united I feel with your presence.

In hopes of obtaining some level of satisfaction (and because I'm out of cell phone minutes so there's no possibility of finding an available female confidant to listen) I am allowing myself this letter to vent.

I fully expect to become reacquainted with my former associate, Mr. Sleep Deprivation. In fact, I am sure he and I will come to know and detest one another on a deeper level considering the fact that this time around, I won't be able to make use of newborn nap time when darling toddler child is expecting to play.This I accept. However, the detail that I neglected to remember and seemingly have an issue with...

(*side note: by the way, what's the point in pregnancy amnesia? Was that side affect thrown in as a means of humbling all pregnant women? Because let's face it, the birthing process isn't embarrassing enough, right? - just wondering.)

As I was saying, the detail I neglected to remember is that in the remaining weeks of one's pregnancy, it would seem that I consistently wake up every hour. Considering you thought up this brilliant plan as a twisted form of preparation for life with a newborn, I don't need to share with you what ails me, but since this is my rant, I'm going to anyway...

• Rolling over... My husband sleeps with a beached whale who occasionally has to ask for his assistance in the process of readjusting awkward pregnant body; a process that seems to take five minutes only to be deemed "no good" thirty seconds later.
• Mad search for Tums. Ugly Schmugly Heart Burn & Mr. Sleep Deprivation must have been college roommates.
  
• Turning on ceiling fan in the middle of night, followed by tucking covers around freezing husband.
  
• And my personal favorite, nightly field trips to the bathroom.
  

And for the sake of re-emphasizing Father Lehi's lesson that there "needs be an opposition in all things"... (That's right, we're dutifully keeping up with our Sunday school reading)

...let's add in a head cold/sore throat a doting mother acquired after hours of looking after her sick toddler. (*Tip: Orbitz gum is a decent subsitute to alleviate sore throat pain when cold meds are not an option. However, gum is not conducive to a sleeping environment.)

But I mean, come on... how about a small handful of opposition? If you only knew how bad those steroids have effected Eliza's daily waste deposit(s), I would easily earn your sympathy.

I'll be the first to admit that there's nothing attractive about a complainer. But let me say that there's nothing attractive about a sick, pregnant, emotionally off balanced, sleep deprived Mommy who ran out of cell phone minutes TWO WEEKS TOO SOON either (I'm too prideful to insert current picture of myself).

I suppose I should be writing in for an attitude adjustment instead of venting my complaints to whoever has the patience to read such murmurings. But considering the fact that my dear daughter is in desperate need for a slice of cheese, I'll conclude.

Your humble vessel,
Ali Flegal

p.s. Kidding aside, I'm totally thankful for my pregnancy. Anything I "vent" about is a small price to be paid compared to the love and joy that that baby that I'll soon be holding will bring (I'm now crying, thanks a lot). I'm aware of serious complications that exist and am thankful I've been spared. I hope no one ever reads these silly posts and thinks that I am oblivious to our blessings.

The Cullen's have been cast

(from left to right: Emmett, Rosalie, Esme, Edward, Carlisle, Alice & Jasper)

For additional photos, names of actors, etc - see the link below:

http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/twilight_movie.html

For real "die hard fans" - this is old news. For people with lives, this is wasted entry space. For girls like me, this is as good as it gets :)

My Daughter's on Steroids

It's true.After being diagnosed with "the croup," our pediatrician recommended that Nurse Sunshine (*nickname derived out of sincere like & appreciation) administer a shot of steroids into Eliza's thigh.
Eliza felt betrayed and I felt like a liar. Based on a brainless assumption that we weren't at a scheduled "wellness check up appointment," I had promised Eliza that our visit wouldn't involve having a shot.

Still, it was the right move considering it did loosen the tightness in her throat and chest which enabled her to sleep soundly last night.

WARNING: Mothers of future toddler steroid users BEWARE: her throat wasn't the only muscle loosened. Based on the content of three - yes i repeat THREE - *rhymes with croup*, filled diapers, her bowels were also affected.

Having warned me that the dose wouldn't last long, I was given the pleasant assignment of crushing up a bitter tasting pill (also a steroid) and feeding it to her this morning.

I'd like to thank my good friend, Mrs. Buttersworth for enabling me to accomplish the daunting task that IS... giving a reluctant child medicine.Selfishly, I am disheartened by the mommy/play group cancellations I had to make; the tentatively scheduled ali/keersten chat fest, as well as the lunch appointment I had mentally confirmed with myself with Axiom friends on Thursday.

Fortunately, I still am "looking forward" to my first internal exam - or as I like to call it, the cringe infested, squeeze my eyes tight, bite my lip and curl my toes exam, that will determine if baby boy is progressing towards delivery.

I even clipped my fingernails for the sake of the nurse who is assigned to hold my hand during the procedure. *Shudder.

A Disturbing New Development

Moments ago, I found myself walking around the bathroom, brushing my teeth - you know, completely minding my OWN business when I suddenly felt an overhang of excess skin (also known as fat) flapping against my knee cap.

*This photo depicts the fat pad in the opposite location, but none the less, it's a photo of a fat knee (not mine - mind you).

Mildly disgusted - okay, change that to COMPLETELY disgusted, an alarmed version of myself points out my new fatty addition to Andrew. Thinking that he'll lie to make me feel better, he laughs and says,

"Ya! I totally see it!"...

I guess I shouldn't be surprised by his calm reaction. After all, he and I have been through the "inflation of wife, deflation of wife" process before. His optimism that I'll shrink back to normal sure boosts my spirits, but in the meantime, I really have been abusing my "decent genetic gift card" that I received from my parents. For the sake of my knees and other innocent body parts, I need to back off the Brownies Over the Moon ice cream.

Here's hoping to an interesting week full of something other than excess fat.

Das Packet Ist Gekommen!! Danke!

Dearest Familie Auras,
St. Nikolas arrived at our home yesterday with a Christmas package from you!! Can you believe it?! He finally made it to Salt Lake! We were thrilled to receive it.

Thank you for the webcam. Being able to actually see you, makes communicating with you that much better. I will try my best to share the German SCHOKOLADE with Andrew, but I am not making any promises :) As for the Haribo's, Andrew's eager hand didn't last 30 seconds before tearing into a package.

We enjoyed looking at each card. Miriam, I was so impressed that you wrote in English. In response to your question, Of course we miss you. We miss you everyday. It's hard to see it from this photo, but here is what she wrote:

"Merry Christmas Dear Ali, Andrew and Eliza We miss ju. Du ju mis us too? The sun is noht shining! It is noht snowing! I, have giniepig babys. 4. Santerclause is coming to us toay."

Jared was recently baptized!! He sent us pictures of his baptism. Congratulations, friend! We wish we had been there to witness it ourselves. We're so proud of you.

And then there was the gift that made us cry; the key to "our" front door. Our home in Germany is vacant, still filled with our furniture (and lovely flea market artwork!), simply there - like our friends - waiting.
And last but not least, thank you for the disc of photos. It was wonderful, and heartbreaking, to see how the seasons have changed, how your family is growing and to see the faces of our neighbors and branch family.

Wir lieben und vermissen euch. Ihr seid mehr wie familie als freunde!

I kneel to pray

Last Saturday

Two hours after Eliza went to bed for the night, I peeked my head into her room to check that she hadn't kicked off her covers. Momentarily alarmed, I realized that she was no longer laying at the top of her bed where we had kissed her "Goodnight."

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I spotted her. My heart was instantly filled with an overwhelming, mushy, Mommy goo type of love/sentiment when I found her on her knees. She had resumed "praying position" in her typical spot and was fast asleep!
I have to say that simple moments like this is what Motherhood is all about.

Double Meaning

*Prelude to conversation:

I have been staying up to date on the development of my baby with weekly e-mail updates from babycenter.com. As far as I'm concerned, babycenter is the virtual Disneyland for expecting mothers. I am tempted to expound upon this analogy, but I won't; for fear that I will divert far from my intended topic and not be able to work my way back...because let's be honest, I do that ALL THE TIME!

In addition to weekly updates, another feature that maintains my interest is the "message board" for Mother's expecting babies in March 2008. This "March 2008 Birth Club" is a place where hormonal, pregnant women congregate to discuss, vent and take part in a myriad of topics relating to their pregnancy. Occasionally, a current event will surface, but normally you'll find conversations/complaints such as these:

• "Let's show off our expanding bellies! YAY, CUTE, Oh... you're so lucky you don't have stretch marks. What cream do you use?"
• "You'll never believe what my dear husband said to me last night... he's such an insensitive, pile of *%$#!!! He never helps me with anything. I can't believe he ate ALL of my ice cream. Pig.
  
• "Epidurals vs. Natural Child Birth - debate here"
  
• "What color should I paint my nursery? Egg yolk yellow or daffodil cream? Vote here!"

And my personal favorite,

• "How much weight have you gained?" (I'm convinced that everyone who comments on this post is a liar.)

As I scroll through various "threads" (as they're called) or topics, I've never left a comment or photo (I save that for my blog). Rather, I participate privately by laughing, offering advice that no one hears, extending silent thoughts of sympathy and/or occasionally rolling my eyes.

I've been frequenting the "birth announcements" thread; which contains stories of the Mother's who are due in March who have already given birth. These dramatic filled experiences are captivating and leave me in awe at what some women are forced to do physically and emotionally when a child is born so early.

Each story shared typically ends on a positive note or with a petition that those who read it will pray for their baby. It can quickly evoke the most tender of feelings in my heart (I am being serious here.) Anyway, they usually post a picture of their baby as well as share the name they've chosen. Which brings me to the subject of my post (FINALLY!).

Veteran readers are aware of our current name predicament, so as an act of desperation, last night I began reading aloud names from the above mentioned "thread" to Andrew in hopes that together we'd share an "Aw-ha!" moment and decide upon our son's name (dream on, dream on!).

"Oh my, my, my" I judgmentally declare. In a sarcastic tone I murmur, "I wonder what inspired this name choice!?" Without looking up Andrew asks,

"What name would that be?"

"Cullen." I say simply. Despite the fact that Andrew hasn't read the Twilight series, I am sure that the following images are cascading through his mind based upon his knowledge of my complete infatuation with the fictionally flawless yet potentially fatal vampire, Edward Cullen (*sigh)! (Pathetic that my heart is now racing? I think not).

"Colon?" He asks, his voice full of shock and astonishment.

"As in the BODY PART?" Laughter erupts between the two of us as I share with him my personal assessment of the inspiration for the name. Considering Andrew's attachment to all things "bathroom humor" I am not surprised that "colon" was his initial thought.

"Aquatic Exploration" by, Eliza G. Flegal

You'd think that I'm about to turn two or something! (her birthday is in May).Mommy and Daddy took me on another outing that freely admits ankle biters under the age of two. "Free" - Did you know that's my daddy's favorite word? Our destination, "The Living Planet Aquarium - Preview Exhibit "

(Key words: "preview exhibit" meaning: it's a petite , child friendly, slightly overpriced aquarium that hopefully will expand into something quite magnificent if properly funded)My Mission, that I chose to accept... was to enthusiastically react to each display of fish! Considering my background of daily fish tank staring with my Daddy, I must say that I excelled today. Reference picture included here:January 2008

Returning to this morning's festivities; I'd like to point out a multitude of June Suckers...mmm, did someone say "sucker"?
(In fact, I did. To get Eliza to actually look at the camera I had to shout out the word "TREAT." It was the only thing I could do to avert her attention towards the face she looks at EVERYDAY - mine)

Next stop... the jelly fish! As a youth my Daddy visited the Virgin Islands. One time, he jumped into the Caribbean Ocean and was greeted by thousands of these types of jelly fish!

(Eliza's not even two and she has already heard that story 5 or 6 times )And then, I found Nemo! Apparently, he's been missing? Ha ha, get it? Finding Nemo? I personally haven't seen the movie but that doesn't stop me from making hilarious puns. Bubba would be so proud. Who let the pregnant farmer in?

And finally, here I am taking a break with my very best pal. Thanks Daddy for working so hard and providing our family with fun activities such as this.There you go, Mama. I thanked him. Now can I have that treat you promised me?

Sad

At the end of yesterday's post I lamented that I need to find something worthwhile to do during Eliza's nap time.After finishing her lunch, Eliza and I cuddled for a few minutes as we watched Sesame Street. It wasn't long until she made it known that she was ready for her nap.
Moments ago, I looked up at the clock and realized that I have been watching (intently watching) Sesame Street for the last 20 minutes by myself. How's that for making constructive use of my time?At least I can tell her that 19 is the number of the day. I'm sure she'll be wondering.

Create Your Own (Mis)Adventure!

Does anyone else remember the Choose Your Own Adventure series from their youth? The memory of this cherished reading activity combined with my absent mindedness is responsible for the following entry.

Exclusively here at aliflegal.blogspot.com, I am offering a "how to" guide that will assist you in creating and living your very own, personal misadventure.

1. Step one: Choose your conflict
2. Step two: Cast your characters
3. Step three: Include moments of: Irony, Frustration, Worry, Humor, Increased Frustration, Desperation, Relief, Joy
4. Step Four: Resolution
   

Sampling of a Misadventure:

Conflict: Loss of Wallet (contents include: credit/debit cards, driver's license, check book, CAFE RIO FREE MEAL card, temple recommend, gift certificates, cash, stamps)

• Please note: The loss of any item is most effective when the victim a.k.a. "the town idiot," suffers from frequent episodes of pregnancy amnesia.

Cast of Characters:

1. Mrs. Lumpy Bumpy (victim)
2. Secretly Conflicted Husband: Although he worries about the possibility of identity theft, he is secretly thrilled that his wife has zero access to family finances which eliminates possibility of all non-needed purchases!
3. Nana Marie (Heroine)
   

Story:
Monday morning, Mrs. L Bumpy is feeling a surge of energy. She sets to work on deep cleaning her front room. With a joyful heart, she happens upon the missing back of her favorite earring - fortune must be on her side as the discovery was made seconds before coming in contact with family vacuum.

Later that afternoon, Secretly Conflicted Husband is in need of wife's wallet. After a quick sweep of the apartment and family vehicles, the wallet is officially declared as "missing." Considering her unexpected jewelry find, the situation of a lost wallet proves to be ironic.
Mentally, Mrs. L Bumpy begins the arduous task of retracing her weekend waddles, I mean steps, in an attempt to remember the last time she made a purchase. After exerting all her efforts to merely "remember something" the date and time are determined: Friday, The Quilted Bear, Midvale - while running errands with Nana Marie.

Mrs. L Bumpy and Nana Marie implant and feed off a false memory that the wallet made it back into the vehicle. The search begins in Nana Marie's car, quilted bear shopping bag, coat pockets, household trash cans (toddler has new hobby of throwing away silverware) and every possible nook and cranny of Mrs. L Bumpy's apartment...

Daily naps are thwarted by increased frustration. Knees are bruised from the increase of prayer. Blogging is delayed as worry clouds all inspired blogging thoughts. Phone calls are continually made to Nana Marie in hopes of sparking new theory.

After giving up "hope," Mrs. L Bumpy calls bank and cancel all cards, changes account number, mourns the loss of the Cafe Rio free meal - etc. She calls Nana Marie and explains decision while holding back the urge to spew after reading with it entails to obtain a new driver's license.

Nana Marie casually mentions that she'll check with the Quilted Bear that morning (she has a stellar, top selling, craft booth at the QB which explains her frequency of visits.). Without giving it much thought, a seemingly defeated Mrs. L Bumpy thanks her Mom for her involvement, concern and hangs up the phone.

HALF HOUR LATER

Cell phone rings. An ecstatic Nana Marie jokingly asks,
"So do I get $15.00?" (previous night, Mrs. L Bumpy had offered reward money to 9 year old cousin if she could find missing wallet.)

"YOU'RE KIDDING ME! You found it... Oh, I love you Mom. Thank you. You're the best..." Praise and gratitude continues for 15 minutes. The missing wallet had been left in shopping cart and the honest employees had it waiting for Mrs. L Bumpy behind their counter.

The End

** As the above story demonstrates, this experience lacked the element of humor and displays that I need to find something more constructive to do during Eliza's nap time.

*** Side note to Andrew: Sorry, honey. I know you like it when I keep my entries short.

A Valentine's Sneak Peek!

While perusing Cafepress.com the other day, I found Andrew's Valentine's day gift. What do you think? Who needs a romantic gesture when you can give an honest acknowledgment like this? Needless to say, this shirt makes me laugh.

Speaking of romance, I admit that my "romantic thoughtful nature" has fallen into a state of hibernation as I've delved into my third trimester of pregnancy. I blame it on my physical woes (and brief moments of complete insanity).

I think the word "slow" and the noise, "ughhhhhhh" pretty much sums up how I feel lately. Mentally, I'm slow. Physically, I bend, roll and waddle slow.

I could use your help. Let me start by asking

• In your current relationship, who romances who on Valentine's day?
  
• Do you mutually make plans for a special night out?
  
• Are gifts given/received by both individuals?
  
• What are your traditions (if any)?

Please send some inspiring, PG rated ideas my way before I buy my husband a shirt when in reality, his face already reads the same message!

"There he is"

As Eliza and I watched President Hinckley's funeral service this morning, I couldn't help but smile as Eliza made the connection that the man who was being honored on T.V. was the same man whose photo is displayed in our front room.

During the final photo/video montage, Eliza lay cuddled up on my lap. As my tears freely fell, she began to mimic me. How easily and for no reason other than Mama was doing it, can she whip up her own batch of tears! Trying to reassure her that it's okay to cry, I explained that "Mama was happy and that she loved President Hinckley very much."

With a sense of light in my voice (to re-emphasize that all was well), I pointed to his image on the screen and exclaimed, "There he is, Eliza. There is our Prophet." As we viewed more footage, I continued to repeat, "Look, Eliza! There he is!"

And at the moment, I imagined the reunion that took place on the other side. Along with his cherished companion and respected forebears, I imagined others who loved and knew him in this life, waiting. Perhaps as they watched him enter, they too were whispering with excitement and joy, "There He is! He is home. There he is!"

If Eliza was a comic strip...

Earlier this morning...

"Hmmm, where IS that phone number?...."

Success! A connection is made. "Hello, Dada?" She pauses. "It's me, Eliza. Mama can't find her hidden stash of chocolate. Do you have any idea where she put it? She looks distressed."

Half hour later

"Eliza?" The mama asks.

Detecting a hint of suspicion in her voice, Eliza pretends she's too occupied with her breakfast to respond.

Mama continues, "Eliza, have you been using my cell phone to make phone calls again?"

"Oh! That!" She says brightly. "Yes, I sure did. I called Dada and he told me where YOUR chocolate is!!"

And finally, here are a few new tricks our puppy has learned.