RUDE!

When I first met Nic he would laugh often about how I classified certain things as "rude". For instance...if a cloud covered the sun while I was trying to get a tan that cloud would obviously be "rude". If I stubbed my toe on the door jam, the door jam was "rude". Etc...

Well, now something else is attacking me in a very rude way. This whole pregnancy-postpartum thing. Sigh.

As far as I know, my abdomen was the only body part that was actually pregnant. Why then, do you suppose I cannot get my jeans past my knees? My thighs weren't pregnant were they? RUDE!

How is it possible that after giving birth to a nearly nine pound baby I hop on the scale two days later and find I have lost a whopping seven pounds? RUDE!

And let's not forget the ultimate firing squad of brutal honesty...my children. I have had to give up my personal shower time and have traded it for piling me, Afton, and Evan in at once or else a shower just doesn't happen. During this morning's shower Afton asked me 1.) "Why is your belly button so big like a mole hole?" She then followed with my personal favorite 2.) "Why are your boobs so long now?" Sigh.

Now that I sleep solely on my left side to protect Jemma from Nic rolling on her I have developed this amazing zit on my left cheek. It's pretty much the biggest zit I've ever heard of in real life or in legend...I have affectionately named it Molgarath. (Watch the Spiderwick Chronicles for clarification). Here's a picture of Molgarath.

Even Nic got in on the action when one morning my naturally curly hair was particularly unruly and he told me I looked like Gene Wilder. For those of you who can't remember who that is...he played Willy Wonka on the original Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

I can't deny...he pretty much hit the nail on the head.

So, lately it can be pretty hard to look at myself. But you know what? When I get a little discouraged at what has happened to my body after three kids, this is what I do. I go pick up Jemma and I walk to a mirror and take a good look. I am a mother. I see myself holding her and know there is more to me than what I look like, what longitude my body parts are at, or if a mole would in fact enjoy burrowing in for the winter in my larger than normal belly button. I am a mother! It's pretty amazing. Jemma is pretty amazing. She's beautiful. And every night (several times a night) when she wakes up to be fed and it feels like someone Elmer's glued my eye lids shut and I can barely wake up, I can't help but take one look at her and a smile spreads across my lips because I still can't believe she is mine! I'm happy to see her every time. So I guess I just want to say...Yeah, it's important to look my best and take care of myself, but I'm trying not to dwell on the things out of my control. You know? It's not my fault these things happened anyway...my belly button is just rude.

Hello World!

Here I am in labor... on March 4th, listening to Jack Johnson whilst conjuring up a very specific memory of me riding along side my hubby on the North Shore of Oahu with my bare feet out the window looking at the ocean. You'd be amazed at how much I clung to that image and how much it helped. Earlier in the day I was picking up Afton from preschool and cursing my false labor. Only...half way back while going 80 mph on the freeway I had a pain that clearly was not false labor. So I spent the next five or six hours puttering around my house hiding in my bedroom from any noise or distraction...reading my Dr. Sears Birth book wondering... is this really it? Finally around 5:50 pm I told Nic, "You better get me to the hospital."
Southern Hills Hospital was a ghost town when I walked into the Labor and Delivery floor. I crawled up onto a bed and said, "Let's do this thing." Unfortunately I did not know that because I tested positive for beta strep I had to have four hours inbetween intrvienous antibiotic doses! Are you kidding me? I'm dialated to a five...in pretty good labor and you are saying I have to wait four more hours? I'd like to see how that's going to happen. So...the nurses treated me like a delicate piece of glass trying not to check me or let my water break as we all stared at the drip drip drip of the antibiotic bag while chanting "GO BABY GO BABY GO!" My chanting got even more sincere as I was at a seven and the nurse infomed me she wouldn't even call the anesthesiologist untill I had recieved all the medicine! Then she said, you are doing great...why don't you try it natural? I have to admit, I was tempted. Afterall, the sensation of a needle fishing around in my spinal juices is not my favorite experience. However, the sensation of delivering my first baby with the epidural shut off was oh so much more not my favorite experience. So...my bff Dr. Chen arrived and gave me my epidural and about an hour later...

Jemma Sage Larkin was born! 8 lbs. 9 oz, 20 inches long at 11:36pm.

Here's my so cool under fire Dr. Swainston. He was singing "If you leave me now, You'll take away the biggest part of me" as I was pushing her out.

Oh! So cute! Look at her pathetic litle cry!

My nurse Julie made a bow for her beanie!

My mommy.

Me with my favorite Jamba Juice, "Carribean Passion" courtesy of my mother in law Michelle. Life is good. I'm NOT pregnant...it's the day after and I've got Jamba Juice.

Afton's first meeting. When it was time for her to go she threw a huge fit which she doesn't usually do and cried, "I'm NOT leaving here without my baby sister!"

My daddy.

Loving my family visit and my new baby.

Evan checking out her toes.

Morning after Dad. Love that messy bed head.

Getting ready to go home.

Poor thing....she's so skinny:)

You'd think a muppet fathered this baby judging from her abundance of fuzziness. She's getting sunned at Grandma Michelle's big bay window for her jaundice.

Happy Daddy.

Jemma...toe up.

Afton slung up her baby just like mommy.

Thank you to all my friends and family who helped out. A special shout out to my mom who even broke her arm in the line of duty! Your three weeks here was pure heaven! Thanks to Grandma M who brought the mother load of paper products...I still haven't washed a cereal bowl. Thanks to Julie who came and got my kids and took them outside to play so I could breathe for a second...I wrote about the birth in my journal and read my scriptures:) Thanks to you all for the beautiful meals, blog comments, facebook notes and just calling to check on me. I love you all and can't wait to rejoin society:) Pardon any typos or statements that make no sense...I'm functioning on very little sleep and very wacked hormones.

Life Well Lived

I've just been thinking lately about how full my seemingly little life is. My mood ebbs and flows like everybody's. Sometimes I think, "Man, I am so tired of everyday feeling like that movie Ground Hog Day." You know that movie with Bill Murray and he gets stuck in time and wakes up to the exact same day every morning? Ugh. Sometimes Nic asks me in the morning as I pour cereal..."How are you?" And I say "Ground Hog Day." And he just knows. Then he'll bring me icecream that night or rub lotion on my feet or something.

Anyway, I received a precious tidbit of advice from Nic's dad once. He told me no matter how many pictures you think you are taking of your family...take ten times more. I now know why he said that. As I sorted through the pictures of the last couple of months I actually got leaky eyes and was so thankful for the experiences we have together as a family. Can everyday be amazingly exciting? No. But can everyday hold a little gem of worth? Absolutely. Here are some of our experiences.


Look What Love Did!

In case you didn't know, I've been growing a kid for the last nine months. Can you believe it? A KID! That's pretty amazing. This last weekend Nic and I enjoyed a staycation courtesy of my sister and her hubby watching our kids. We went out to a decadent dinner and sipped pina colada's, ate cake and basked in the grown-upness of holding hands and not mentioning poop, spankings, or time-out for a whole two hours. Then we went rented movies and layed in bed and ate more cake. We slept in, went for a drive up to the snow, ate out again...played board games with eachother and didn't pick up or clean one single thing the whole weekend. I stepped over the same motorcycle on the floor ten times in one day and didn't care! It was the best.

I caught Nic having a private breakfast with Evan at the teeny table. Evan's little face lit up like a lamp with the personal attention.

Can I just say how smokin' gorgeous Afton thought she was this day? I couldn't stop laughing. We curled her hair for church and I let her wear some perfume and pink lipstick. Oh boy, she was a vain little thing. I love the expression on her face.

I got out of the shower and found these. Notice the mutilated de-frosted cupcakes on the left in the round pan.

Then I found these faces. I like how Evan looks like he has a handle bar moustache.

I liked this picture of Afton. It seems symbolic and it tugs at my heartstrings everytime. We went to California for a week during New Years to visit our bff's and they took us to this place called Travel Town where there are a bunch of retired trains to explore and climb on. We loved it. If you are ever near Hollywood...go.

Evan in testosterone Heaven.

Sitting by the ocean, exploring tidepools, eating Chips-Ahoy which don't even taste good unless you are camping or at the ocean. Nic found this beautiful little blue crab. We also found an octopus and starfish.


What do you get when you put five or six families together on New Year's eve...ton's of delish food and a trunk of rediculous hats? The funnest New Year's party I ever attended. I was having a lot of contractions that night so I sat on the couch in my Princess Laya buns and turban whilst listening to Nic's buddies jam out on the guitars to Johnny Cash songs and other tunes that made me shake my head and say...This is friggin' awesome.

I experimented with the Napoleon Dynamite wig and glasses before settling with the buns and turban. I believe I was impersonating Napoleon here by saying "IDIOT!"

Here's Evan and Afton getting to take some sled rides down Papa Frank's driveway over Christmas Vacay. Priceless.

So the Larkins are good. Can't wait to see this baby in my tummy.

I need attention

Do you ever just wake up and think..."Dang. I need some attention." It would be the mature thing to just say so out loud, but no...I have other "ways". For instance, Nic's mom took him to a cool running store last night to buy him some new running shoes for his upcoming race in California. You need to know that Nic has some very specific pet peeves such as NEEDING to be the first one to put the spoon in a new jar of peanut butter or icecream. If you take a bite of his sandwich before he does...bad things follow. Nobody can touch his new thing before he does. So me putting on his size thirteen brand spanking new running shoes and wearing them around the house to make the beds while he was in the shower was the perfect way to get "attention". I made sure to wear no socks so the deflowering could be complete. I enjoyed the blood curdling "NOOOOO" I got when he came out of the bathroom and saw me tap dancing and doing the twist (as if that were part of my morning routine).

Another one of my "ways" stems from the mental torture his younger brother Sean used to inflict upon him. Sean was the king of being a bungholio without getting in trouble. So I employed one of his tactics while Nic was eating his cold pizza. I sat down next to him, extended my index finger and BARELY touched his bare arm. He shooed it away like a bug. Then I waited a few minutes and kept doing it again and again until I almost made him cry.

Then I followed him into the bedroom when he got dressed. I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for him to walk by me. When he did, I delicately extended my foot and totally tripped him. AT LAST! ATTENTION! If you've never seen an eight month pregnant woman get totally tackled...you should make a point to witness it. I got some hugs and squeezes and a few spanks and then Nic looked at me and said, "Do you just need some attention?"

Smile of the Mind

I love when a random brief image gives me a chuckle...something you just happen to run into. This week I saw three things that just made me laugh. The first was a sixty-something flowerchild driving a hot pink Geo Tracker - the same Geo Tracker I coveted in 10th grade. She had on a fuzzy homemade beanie, and went tearing around a corner with her tie-dyed skirt slammed in her door dragging along the street. I had a good time imagining what her apartment must look like...with overgrown aloe plants, worn out futons and burning incense.

The next thing I saw just this morning. It was a burly blue collar worker drving his beat up white work truck. On the hood was super glued the exact barbie horse I had as a kid. The Palimino with blonde mane...one hoof delicately posed in a prancing position. I laughed out loud when I saw the mane magestically blowing in the wind as he barreled down Flamingo street.

Then I saw a man standing at a bus stop with a head infinitely too small for his Frankenstien-like shoulders. I was hoping it was just a poorly chosen coat with big shoulder pads.

I guess I'm not the only one who finds amusement in the ordinary...on the way to pick Afton up from preschool I hear Evan snickering in the backseat. I asked him what was so funny. He said, "Mom, look at Raisin's weener...I HAVE A WEENER LIKE THAT!"

Seafood - Me no likey

Somehow...I don't know how, Nic and I are completely caught up on Maslow's heirarchy of needs which has created this happy/feisty atmosphere in the house this morning as opposed to the normal threating of the kids with maiming if they dare ask for anything as absurd as a bowl of cereal before 7 a.m.. Nic took advantage of this mood by blaring some of his favorite music...PHISH. He rarely subjects me to the torture...but he was feeling his oats today. He has a near reverent regard for this band. He was in the kitchen with this silly grin on his face, pouring raisin bran and playing air guitar as I sat on the couch involuntarily plucking my eyelashes out one by one. I have to admit though...I do get a nostalgic coma-like feeling from this music because he listened to this band daily when we were dating and I was so crazy-go-nuts in love with him that I probably would have eaten a dead elephant foot if he offered it to me - and enjoyed it. And there are the occasional bursts of quirky lyrics that are hard to resist...something about "Give the director a serpent detector, a molerat deflector, a rivet reflector, a cushion confector, a hormone collector, a picture of nectar..." It's hard not to enjoy that...it's like hating Shel Silverstien...not possible.

Anyway...I thought a few bites of icecream might help get me through this morning ...and as I pried the shrink wrap off of the carton, Nic remarked through a mouthful of cereal, "Isn't it a little early to be hitting the sauce?" To which I replied with one small glance which communicated a thousand words such as, "I am eight months pregnant wearing a pink flowered moo-moo because that is all I can sausage my body into and even though I just ate an orange and a plate of tuna casserole I will now eat some icecream if I dang well feel like it. And each bite will increase my virtue and beauty." And because we are basking in this twilight zone of unnatural contentment on this rare morning...I think he believed me.

Dog Funeral

Do you think it would disrupt the Christmas chi in my house if I caused actual death to my dog? Like, cut his scrawny little body into pieces and feed it to the alligators type thing? RAISIN IS DRIVING ME NUTS! He peed on my Christmas tree. Not only did he whiz on my ornaments, lights and actual tree (how on earth do you clean 5ooo little fake needles whilst they are connected to 1000 lights?), but he peed on my beautifully wrapped gifts and my tree skirt! And it wasn't just any tree skirt, it was a gorgeous beaded, Martha Stewart number I fell in love with and coughed up 25 bucks for because it was just that awesome. I saw in in a KMart ad...and honestly, who goes to KMart anymore? I don't, it's like the twilight zone in there...deserted, outdated and it smells like the seventies. But, I drug both my kids out in the night and drove all the way to Henderson to get the thing...so I must have really liked it! The care instructions specifically say to not get it wet, so that would rule out peeing on it and washing it. DEEEEP LOOOONG Breath. I always wrap the fancy packages first because they look good under the tree...you know the ones that you buy the gorgeous foil paper and special ribbon for? Yeah, he peed on those.

One of the hardest things about being pregnant for me is that I lose my sensible normal self. I cry over the weirdest stuff. Nic was getting ready for work and stopped ironing his shirt to come over and put his arm around me while I knelt before my newly spinkled Christmas tree and cried like I was five years old. PSYCHO! I know! I hate it, but truly can't help it. He's the best husband. After the crazy lady hormones retreated back in their cave, I stopped to think about there are much worse things going on in the world than my peed on christmas tree. I had a great day just laughing at my kids. Afton even drew me a picture of a new "christmas carpet" (tree skirt) to make me feel better. Poor kid! My favorite cute moment of the day was Afton and Evan fighting over the bandaid in the doctor kit. Evan chased her around saying, "AH-TON! DIMMIE DAT DAMBAID! I'm so grateful for my cute family that puts up with me so willingly. And if you made it to the end of this post....thankful for you too. Merry Christmas and pray for Raisin's life...I still haven't made up my mind about his fate.