Daniel's First Post- how we make it

(The following blog was dictated by Daniel):
So, momma says it's about time I pull my weight around here, so I'm blogging my first blog. Let's see, what to talk about?

Daddy started his first week as a real, bonafide teacher. He's teaching Algebra and so far has loved it. He comes home every day all happy with stories of how the kids seem to like him, and how he's been able to use a bunch of teaching method stuff to good use. We're quite proud of him.
Mom... well, I think mommy has lost her mind and a few years of her life in the last few weeks. Apparently working full time with a baby is hard work, and I get the feeling my mom isn't used to that level of busy-ness. I know I make it hard for her, crying while she's on the phone with clients and stuff, but I try to make up for it by smiling lots. So we work together every day. This is how that works. It starts with "chair time" (that's me on the left: )

Where momma talks to me and plays with me while working and typing. I spend lots of time playing with my chair toys:


Then when she gets on the phone we move to floor time

I LOVE Nanna Lucy, even if she gets me all slimey sometimes:

We're best friends:


Then we move on to Nap time. I hate nap time, though I don't fuss much anymore- I try to make things easier on momma. I LOVE when momma comes in to get me from my naps- I just can't contain myself!:



By the end of the day, if I've done my job and smiled enough, mom's happy and we get to relax together. Then daddy comes home and takes care of the dog and me while momma finishes up work. Dad uses this time to teach me all about what my future contains:


All in all, we do pretty well for ourselves. K, gotta go eat...

Cute pic of the day:

Yay! You've come to get me from my lonely nap! time to PLAY!

2 wonderful years

Yesterday was our second anniversary. I sat down and tried to blog about it about 4 times, and each time realized I simply don't have enough time or words to cover just how happy I am that I married Kenny. There just aren't enough words. He's an amazing husband, one of the most selfless people I've ever met, a hard worker, a great father (and I only see him getting better), and has the power to make me happier than any other person alive. I realize I am spoiled and lucky beyond belief but I also think we balance each other very well.
Each month I realize that what I felt last month as far as love goes was nothing compared to how much love I feel now. I can't wait to see what it's like when we're both 40, 60, 80...
So here's to two happy years and to many many more in the future.

Some cheer for you

How's this to brighten one's day:

He finally "woke up" and is smiley and gurgly and talkative all the time now. He LOVES his daddy, now too- Kenny gets the biggest smiles from him all the time.
His favorite game is feet-on-face (which often leads to toes-to-nose):


Lots of new pics up at the web album. Also, pics of us from my parent's stay with us up at mom's web album. Including this cute one of my dad who fell asleep while reading and holding the baby:

Quirks

Lori did this on her blog and I thought it sounded like fun. Here is a list of 7 quirks (all of which I may or may not have mentioned on here before:)
1. I love commercials where animals are given human traits (talking, dancing...) No idea why. I most recently liked one where California Cows enjoyed an earthquake.
2.I am endlessly fascinated by water. Honestly, it can be a disgusting stagmire pond and I'll still have to go stare at it. If it looks even remotely clean, I'll wade in it. If I'm on a bridge I'll stop halfway across and just look down at the water forever. Kenny is sweet and indulges me- he has come to understand that if there is water within 100 yards of me, I will go over and look at it. The funny part is I'm an awful swimmer.
3. I am slightly agoraphobic. I never feel truly at ease in wide open spaces. I am happiest when crammed in a tight, secure spot. Growing up, I would sleep squished between my water bed mattress and the bed frame.
4. Slightly linked to #3, I hate birds of prey. Mostly because they hide in wide open spaces and can attack from any side. Vultures majorly creep me out.
5. I love cleaning bathrooms. I think it is because they are easy to measure when you are "done". A kitchen, I will never feel is completely 100% clean, there is always more to do. A toilet, however, can be definitively clean. That and it involves water (see #2), albeit toilet water.
6. I have a major weakness for online debating. I have forbidden myself from any online debate forums. My pregancy.org bulletin board (a group of us ladies that all had babies due in May) have all commented that I'm quite the online debater. But man, what a way to waste time!
7. I love taking tests. Especially english tests. It's like a game.

I'll go with Lori's method as well- rather than tagging other bloggers to post 7 of thier quirks on their blogs, I'lll invite folks to leave quirks in the comments of this post. Yes, that means you may need to comment on my blog. You know who you are;)

It got better

I figured my last post was fairly depressing sounding so I needed to add some cheer. the rest of my Utah trip went great. Lori and I had a good time. I got to go to my company party and see some old friends (oh, and sometimes my camera makes things look blue. or green.):

Daniel had a great time playing with Chelsy:


the flight home was... well, it was lame but it's my own fault. I missed my flight by like 5 minutes and had to fly through atlanta, making it a long trip home. But I had an extra seat next to me which made it SO MUCH NICER. And it's been SO good to be home with my husband.

Lucy's new favorite game is licking the baby like mad:

Daniel's new favorite game is kicking the puppy in the face:


And the happiest news is that friend Ben (some of you may know him as Best Man Ben) s coming to visit for 5 days. We're so excited.

The trip from/to hell (Sorry it's so long)

So, my boss was kind and arranged for me to fly into Utah for our company's yearly summer shindig. I was also going to use it as a chance to meet my niece Addie, as well as meet up with a client (a prominent SLC bank who just bought a HUGE contract with me). So a week or two ago I bought my tickets- just to be gone from early friday morning until monday afternoon. Daniel won't take a bottle right now, so he got to join me (plus he wanted to meet his cousin Addie).
Then all week I felt a nagging feeling to cancel the trip. I felt very strongly I just should not go. Mind you, my company is paying for the tickets, and would pay for my cancellation fees if needed, but... why the heck would I turn down a free trip?
Come Thursday night, I wasn't feeling particularly well. I didn't sleep well, and woke up with lots of aches and pains. When Kenny tried to cuddle with me, he pulled away because I was way too hot to the touch. Even then, I didn't take the hint.
So at 6 am Friday morning, Kenny unloaded me, with Daniel in the snugli on my chest, then my check-able baggage, my laptop bag, my diaper bag, my purse, and the infant car seat, all for me to trudge through the airport.
The good news is Daniel handled the flight magnificently- slept through take-off and landing, squawked for a total of maybe 3 minutes (usually while I tried to get a discreet set-up for nursing).
I, unfortunately, did not handle the flight so well. About halfway through the flight, with Daniel asleep in one arm, I had to lean over to the nice teenage pakistani girl sitting next to me and say "hey, this isn't a big deal, but I have a history of fainting spells and I'm feeling really funny. I'm probably going to pass out shortly, and when I come to, I'll need a barf bag and a sprite from the stewardess." That's the last thing I remember- heck, I can't even be sure that last sentence came out remotely coherently, though the nice girl was laid back and understanding and helpful.
When I came to, my head was bobbing around violently, Daniel was awake and fallen harmlessly from my arm to my lap (my neighbor says he was giggling the whole time), and the stewardess was shaking me a little asking "ma'am, are you ok?" Fortunately, this has happened enough before (last time was nearly two years ago) I was able to quickly tell them what I needed (primarily a barf bag, despite having NEVER come close to barfing on a plane before) while assuring them I was just fine, despite being green, shaky and in desperate need of a barf bag and kind neighbors to look the other way and pretend they didn't see/hear me lose my honey-roasted airplane peanuts.
After another agonizing hour and a half, I got off the plan and stood on solid ground. My weak, shaken body resumed its role as a pack mule, and I called the Account Manager for the client I was supposed to go meet and told them there was no way I could make it (fortunately the client and the account manager are laid back and forgiving).
I then collected my checked bag and added it to the car seat, baby, diaper bag, purse, laptop bag, and purse I was already carrying and went towards the rental cars, at which point I felt a strange warm sensation on my chest, which quickly lost its heat and just felt cold and wet. Daniel had saturated his diaper (I hadn't had the will/energy to change it on the flight), and had peed right on through his outfit, the snugli, and my shirt.

And that's when you laugh, with tears in your eyes, and say "Really, God? What else do you have for me today?"

I made it to Lori's house safely (in still-peed-on clothes), and after passing a very rough, lonely night (I don't think I've ever missed my husband so much) finally started feeling good enough to eat Saturday afternoon. By the evening I was mostly ok, though still a little wobbly. I got to go to the summer party, which was awesome, and I was able to see many old friends still in the Provorem area. And hopefully tomorrow morning I can still meet up with my client. Still, it will be a LONG time before I'm willing to travel alone anywhere again.

The moral of the story is when something tells you to stay home, do it. You may never know what may have happened, so just think of this story.

Oh, and if you're wondering, yes I have pass-out episodes. Often while sitting down. The last one was on my first day at this job, chronicled here. And no, we haven't figured out what causes them- my heart and brain seem perfectly fine. Still, it's one of my greatest fears- always in the back of my mind wondering when the next one will be. So if you ever see me turn green, please get me a barf bag and a sprite.

Updated to add that Lori has posted the pics, you can see at her blog here.