I had a pretty bad day yesterday. I needed to make a 2 hour trip to IKEA to pick up a few things, and had to bring my kids along because my husband was working. Getting up there was an adventure- trying to make it out the door took longer than usual because a missing boot could not be located, the girls were fussy because they needed naps, and I got pulled over on the 89, which was a first for me. Add to that the explosive diarrhea my two-year-old had while at the store and the absence of wipes in my diaper bag.... A breakdown would be understandable at that point, right?
It didn't occur to me until the drive home what an awful day I had. My whole body ached from pushing a cart that was harder to steer than a HALO 1 warthog. It literally rode sideways rather than straight. I was tired of grabbing Lily and throwing her back in the cart every time she made a break for it. But the funny thing is.... it didn't seem so bad at the time. I was counting my blessings. At least IKEA had what I went up there for and I didn't make a 4-hr car trip for nothing. I was lucky that when a small bomb went off in my daughter's pants I had not only an extra set of pants, but a warm jammie shirt to put on her because the mess seeped through her pants, shirt and jacket. Especially lucky because IKEA doesn't carry clothing. I had no wipes, but there was a pack of courtesy wipes in the bathroom for emergencies such as this. At least we were already in the family bathroom when it happened, and she wasn't running through the middle of the store or something.
I guess it wasn't THAT bad of a day. It could be a lot worse...
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Simple Gifts
A favorite song of mine is an old Shaker song, called "Simple gifts". It brings peace to my heart everytime I hear it, especially during this uncertain time. I start dreaming of what "true simplicity" is to me and how wonderful it would be. And then I start thinking about what I can do to achieve it.
One thing I do periodically is look around our teeny home...and see STUFF. stuff everywhere. Then I get overwhelmed and begin the purge- tossing broken things and garbage, clearing out books, unimportant papers, and worn out/ underused clothes, eliminating underused and disliked items. Sometimes I even go so extreme as cutting tags off pillows and baby toys (those big tags are SOOO annoying), and consolidating boxes out of our kitchen cupboards (you know, the big box with one or two fruit snacks left in it). The other day I was winding ribbon around my fingers and sticking a pin in it so I could throw the spools away. In my defense I had purchased several 5 yard cuts of ribbon for $.60 each and was trying to figure out an organized, free/ cheap way to store it. I also realized it would save space in my ribbon box to store all of my ribbon in the same manner.
I've been taking a mental inventory... and STUFF is not making me happy. In fact I think our stuff is starting to rule us...
One thing I do periodically is look around our teeny home...and see STUFF. stuff everywhere. Then I get overwhelmed and begin the purge- tossing broken things and garbage, clearing out books, unimportant papers, and worn out/ underused clothes, eliminating underused and disliked items. Sometimes I even go so extreme as cutting tags off pillows and baby toys (those big tags are SOOO annoying), and consolidating boxes out of our kitchen cupboards (you know, the big box with one or two fruit snacks left in it). The other day I was winding ribbon around my fingers and sticking a pin in it so I could throw the spools away. In my defense I had purchased several 5 yard cuts of ribbon for $.60 each and was trying to figure out an organized, free/ cheap way to store it. I also realized it would save space in my ribbon box to store all of my ribbon in the same manner.
I've been taking a mental inventory... and STUFF is not making me happy. In fact I think our stuff is starting to rule us...
Saturday, November 17, 2012
The Meaning
I just had the most humbling experience in the grocery store today.
I was checking out at the grocery store when my debit card wouldn't work. Which isn't the first time it's happened- our bank changed its name last year so everyone was issued a new debit card. For some reason there was a conflict with the bank's new cards and Wal-mart's card machines. It doesn't happen often, but sometimes the card reader gets picky about how and where my card is swiped. So I didn't think anything of it; just put it through the usual paces and figured it would work. Sadly it didn't- so I got on my fancy-schmancy smart phone (which I regret being stuck with- I love my phone, but not the contracted service bill) and checked our bank account.
There wasn't enough money to buy my groceries.
I stood there in shock for a minute- We just got paid a few days ago! And it wasn't like this was one of my big trips either... I was trying to keep it cheap.
I wasn't quite sure what to do...I don't carry a credit card with me even though I have one. We ran out of checks last month so that option was out...dig through the car for change?
I thought of the money bag sitting by the front door with my earnings from this weekend's craft boutique in it. There was enough money inside, but it was at home, not in my hand. I debated whether or not to call my husband and have him bring the bag. But I didn't think he would take the news very well; he would stressing out and demanding answers from me about where the money went and what happened, blah blah blah; and I wouldn't be able to tell him until I got home and took a good look at our account history.
As I feebly pawed at the grocery bags trying to decide what to put back, the lady in line behind me put her hand on my shoulder. "How much are you short?"
A sick feeling rose up in my throat. I didn't want her to help me- I was embarrassed enough that she had to see me like this.
"Whatever it is you're short, I will pay it." I opened my mouth to protest when she added, "Merry Christmas."
Those simple words were all the encouragement I needed to accept her gracious help. "Twenty dollars," I choked out.
I paid what I could and she took care of the rest. I got a couple of encouraging smiles and an arm pat from the cashiers as I sheepishly wheeled my cart out of the store. As I loaded my precious groceries into the car I remembered the empty compartment where my emergency $20 used to be.
A couple of months ago, our family was on our way to visit my parents in California. We stopped for gas in Primm, Nevada; the last service station we would see for hours while crossing the Mojave. When Matt got out of the car, a bigger gentleman approached us. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but Matt reached into that little compartment and handed the guy the $20 bill inside. After filling the car with gas and getting back behind the wheel, I asked him what happened. He said the guy needed money for gas.
As I watched the man walk back over to his nice car, I'm ashamed to say I began to judge this person. I knew it was wrong, but I griped in my head about how much it was, what that person might buy with it, and how it was there for our emergencies, not someone else's. I had smaller bills in my purse and wondered why my husband would automatically reach for the twenty and not ask me first if I had any cash. I tried to get over it and move on. I remembered about that missing twenty again last week when our funds were getting low and Matt needed gas to drive to work. He ended up using rolls of change to buy gas.
The lesson God was trying to teach me began to sank in. He knew that $20 meant something to me.
It's PAPER! It's WORTHLESS! It won't last past this life!
But for some reason my heart was set on that eternally worthless piece of paper. And He saw that it was returned to me.
How....
I don't even have words to describe my feelings.
I've been seeking to understand the true meaning of Christmas. Presents are great- I love watching people's faces light up with excitement when they open gifts and find something just perfect. I love the feeling of making someone's day. But I always feel disappointed when I don't find that same perfect gift given to me. I want Christmas to feel what I imagine Christmas feels like. Trying to capture the spirit of the holiday when I am soo focused on shopping and gift wrapping and making sure I get everyone so no one feels like I don't love them if I don't have a gift or something for them is counterproductive. Money and material gifts are not what Christmas is about.
I may be forced to sacrifice my favorite day of the year- Black Friday- because it is a day of spending money....which is now gone. Could I find a way to pay for it on credit? Absolutely. It would be all too easy. But it isn't paid for if you owe the credit card company money. And it's not really a steal of a deal if I am owing interest on it.
Our girls are little so if our tree is a little bare under the branches it won't bother them any. Not to say there won't be anything there- but I've been wanting to do more of a homemade Christmas this year anyway to make our holiday have a little more personal value to it. This might be the perfect year to start teaching them the true meaning of Christmas anyway.
Christmas is an action. Not a feeling.
Doing something for someone else that they cannot do for themselves.
I was checking out at the grocery store when my debit card wouldn't work. Which isn't the first time it's happened- our bank changed its name last year so everyone was issued a new debit card. For some reason there was a conflict with the bank's new cards and Wal-mart's card machines. It doesn't happen often, but sometimes the card reader gets picky about how and where my card is swiped. So I didn't think anything of it; just put it through the usual paces and figured it would work. Sadly it didn't- so I got on my fancy-schmancy smart phone (which I regret being stuck with- I love my phone, but not the contracted service bill) and checked our bank account.
There wasn't enough money to buy my groceries.
I stood there in shock for a minute- We just got paid a few days ago! And it wasn't like this was one of my big trips either... I was trying to keep it cheap.
I wasn't quite sure what to do...I don't carry a credit card with me even though I have one. We ran out of checks last month so that option was out...dig through the car for change?
I thought of the money bag sitting by the front door with my earnings from this weekend's craft boutique in it. There was enough money inside, but it was at home, not in my hand. I debated whether or not to call my husband and have him bring the bag. But I didn't think he would take the news very well; he would stressing out and demanding answers from me about where the money went and what happened, blah blah blah; and I wouldn't be able to tell him until I got home and took a good look at our account history.
As I feebly pawed at the grocery bags trying to decide what to put back, the lady in line behind me put her hand on my shoulder. "How much are you short?"
A sick feeling rose up in my throat. I didn't want her to help me- I was embarrassed enough that she had to see me like this.
"Whatever it is you're short, I will pay it." I opened my mouth to protest when she added, "Merry Christmas."
Those simple words were all the encouragement I needed to accept her gracious help. "Twenty dollars," I choked out.
I paid what I could and she took care of the rest. I got a couple of encouraging smiles and an arm pat from the cashiers as I sheepishly wheeled my cart out of the store. As I loaded my precious groceries into the car I remembered the empty compartment where my emergency $20 used to be.
A couple of months ago, our family was on our way to visit my parents in California. We stopped for gas in Primm, Nevada; the last service station we would see for hours while crossing the Mojave. When Matt got out of the car, a bigger gentleman approached us. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but Matt reached into that little compartment and handed the guy the $20 bill inside. After filling the car with gas and getting back behind the wheel, I asked him what happened. He said the guy needed money for gas.
As I watched the man walk back over to his nice car, I'm ashamed to say I began to judge this person. I knew it was wrong, but I griped in my head about how much it was, what that person might buy with it, and how it was there for our emergencies, not someone else's. I had smaller bills in my purse and wondered why my husband would automatically reach for the twenty and not ask me first if I had any cash. I tried to get over it and move on. I remembered about that missing twenty again last week when our funds were getting low and Matt needed gas to drive to work. He ended up using rolls of change to buy gas.
The lesson God was trying to teach me began to sank in. He knew that $20 meant something to me.
It's PAPER! It's WORTHLESS! It won't last past this life!
But for some reason my heart was set on that eternally worthless piece of paper. And He saw that it was returned to me.
How....
I don't even have words to describe my feelings.
I've been seeking to understand the true meaning of Christmas. Presents are great- I love watching people's faces light up with excitement when they open gifts and find something just perfect. I love the feeling of making someone's day. But I always feel disappointed when I don't find that same perfect gift given to me. I want Christmas to feel what I imagine Christmas feels like. Trying to capture the spirit of the holiday when I am soo focused on shopping and gift wrapping and making sure I get everyone so no one feels like I don't love them if I don't have a gift or something for them is counterproductive. Money and material gifts are not what Christmas is about.
I may be forced to sacrifice my favorite day of the year- Black Friday- because it is a day of spending money....which is now gone. Could I find a way to pay for it on credit? Absolutely. It would be all too easy. But it isn't paid for if you owe the credit card company money. And it's not really a steal of a deal if I am owing interest on it.
Our girls are little so if our tree is a little bare under the branches it won't bother them any. Not to say there won't be anything there- but I've been wanting to do more of a homemade Christmas this year anyway to make our holiday have a little more personal value to it. This might be the perfect year to start teaching them the true meaning of Christmas anyway.
Christmas is an action. Not a feeling.
Doing something for someone else that they cannot do for themselves.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Ramblings of an insomniac
It is in that state between dreaming and being fully awake that I often have the most clarity and can see things as they really are. A fleeting epiphany. It is during these times that I learn the most about myself. Unfortunately, my brilliant ideas almost always never make it out of my head and onto paper. Much of my thoughts are lost at this point, though I will try to regurgitate what I can remember...
I've held myself back for years, probably because I am trying to preserve a time in my life that has passed and never will return again. Change scares me, a lot more than I admit to myself. I love my little girls with all my heart, but I find myself wishing I had fewer responsibilities and that I could go back to a simpler time in my life. I have yet to graduate college because that means I finally have to face the rest of my mortal life. That scares me. I fear age. I've been afraid to imagine what my life will be like when I am 40, 50, 60, etc. I suppose not allowing myself to think about it prevents me from setting worthy goals for me to accomplish in my lifetime. Instead I set my sights on much shallower goals, rather than goals that will be of use to me for all eternity. Perhaps watching my girls grow, and seeing how fleeting their babyhood really is, shows me that I need to start making for myself goals that will enable me to change for the better. Change during mortality is hard- but it will be made even more difficult after mortality. Alma 34:32-34 comes to mind (that is the scripture mastery about procrastination, right? I've been out of seminary too long)- "see that ye do not procrastinate the day of your repentance until the end- for after this day in life which is given us to prepare for eternity; behold, if we do not improve our time while in this life then cometh the night of darkness wherein there can be no labor performed...for that same spirit which doth posses your bodies at the time when ye go out of this life, that same spirit will have power to posses your body, in that eternal world".
Now that I've realized this about myself- the next step is, what will I do about it? Read my patriarchal blessing, for one... as for the next step, I'm not sure. Obviously I need to start allowing myself to move forward. Time is not going to stand still.
Some changes are only as permanent as I want them to be. I've wanted for years to find my own style of decorating and my personal style, as well. I've been looking for permanent solutions to a temporary problem. I've wanted a classic, permanent style. It doesn't exactly work that way- things get old, worn out, broken, lost; and if something survives long enough, I get tired of it. I've wanted my styles to impress other people. So I get anxious and stay in my comfort zone, and deny myself of what I really want to try. I've heard over and over again to go with what I like, what makes me happy, etc.... but for me it isn't that easy. What I really want, though, is a home that feels friendly and open, where friends and family like to come over and spend time with our family. I want a home where my kids feel the spirit, and everyone who comes to visit can feel it too.
Looks like I have my work cut out for me.
I've held myself back for years, probably because I am trying to preserve a time in my life that has passed and never will return again. Change scares me, a lot more than I admit to myself. I love my little girls with all my heart, but I find myself wishing I had fewer responsibilities and that I could go back to a simpler time in my life. I have yet to graduate college because that means I finally have to face the rest of my mortal life. That scares me. I fear age. I've been afraid to imagine what my life will be like when I am 40, 50, 60, etc. I suppose not allowing myself to think about it prevents me from setting worthy goals for me to accomplish in my lifetime. Instead I set my sights on much shallower goals, rather than goals that will be of use to me for all eternity. Perhaps watching my girls grow, and seeing how fleeting their babyhood really is, shows me that I need to start making for myself goals that will enable me to change for the better. Change during mortality is hard- but it will be made even more difficult after mortality. Alma 34:32-34 comes to mind (that is the scripture mastery about procrastination, right? I've been out of seminary too long)- "see that ye do not procrastinate the day of your repentance until the end- for after this day in life which is given us to prepare for eternity; behold, if we do not improve our time while in this life then cometh the night of darkness wherein there can be no labor performed...for that same spirit which doth posses your bodies at the time when ye go out of this life, that same spirit will have power to posses your body, in that eternal world".
Now that I've realized this about myself- the next step is, what will I do about it? Read my patriarchal blessing, for one... as for the next step, I'm not sure. Obviously I need to start allowing myself to move forward. Time is not going to stand still.
Some changes are only as permanent as I want them to be. I've wanted for years to find my own style of decorating and my personal style, as well. I've been looking for permanent solutions to a temporary problem. I've wanted a classic, permanent style. It doesn't exactly work that way- things get old, worn out, broken, lost; and if something survives long enough, I get tired of it. I've wanted my styles to impress other people. So I get anxious and stay in my comfort zone, and deny myself of what I really want to try. I've heard over and over again to go with what I like, what makes me happy, etc.... but for me it isn't that easy. What I really want, though, is a home that feels friendly and open, where friends and family like to come over and spend time with our family. I want a home where my kids feel the spirit, and everyone who comes to visit can feel it too.
Looks like I have my work cut out for me.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Emma's Story
Emma and Lily are growing so fast. It is hard to believe that nearly 6 months have gone by since our second daughter came into this world, and almost two years since our first daughter changed our lives forever. Lily has grown so much since then- and we have, too.
I never recorded Emma's story.
My induction was scheduled for April 5, 2012 at 5:00 a.m. At 3:30 a.m. the hospital called and said that there were no rooms available for me. So I went back to sleep and at 7 we received another call asking us to come in. I changed in the triage room, had my water broken in a cesarean postpartum room, and after being in labor for a few hours I was moved into the room where we would stay until discharge.
I feel like my labor with Emma was easier than Lily- mostly because I was a little more experienced- but I was also constantly drinking fluids, I had at least a couple of hours of sleep (Still didn't sleep very well- we slept at Kristynn's the night before), and my mom was there. It was so nice to have a seasoned delivery nurse there just for me ;) Especially after my epidural kicked in and I wasn't quite so coherent. Mom was even able to predict when it was time to call the nurse in because the fentanyl in my system was causing my blood pressure to drop too low.
For a few hours my labor didn't progress much. I finally started making some progress after lunch, and around 3:30 I was dilated to a 7. The nurse was about to leave my room when I started to feel pressure, and she checked me again. Within minutes I dilated from a 7 to a 10, and was starting to feel like I needed to push. The doctor was fetched, and at 3:46 p.m., Emma Leigh came into the world. She was 7 lbs 7 oz and 20 inches long.
Emma had jaundice also (her bili levels were around 11.5 at discharge), but because we had gone through it when Lily was born we knew what to do, and thankfully the pediatrician at the hospital sent us home with bili lights. We also made sure she was well fed, and I supplemented her with formula for about the first week. We continued to have her bili levels checked for several days after getting home, and finally she was off the bili lights about a week or so after we got home.
Even though I had stopped nursing Lily less than a year earlier, I felt like we needed to learn it all over again. This time around though it was almost like magic. Emma had no trouble at all finding my breast. I think we waited too long to start Lily off, or maybe it was just my inexperience that got in the way, but that first time was much harder. We avoided giving the bottles that the hospital provided to Emma, anyway, just in case it screwed us up and made things harder.
She has grown so much since then. Emma was rolling over front to back at 2 months, and back to front at 4 months. She was starting to creep around before 5 months, and now can scoot backwards and roll around to reach something she wants. I can only imagine what my house is going to look like when she is running around with her sister :s
I am looking forward to watching her continue to grow into a beautiful little girl like her sister, and to become a big sister herself one day. Each little spirit that comes into our family is a true miracle, and I hope that we will be blessed with more little miracles as our lives continue.
I never recorded Emma's story.
My induction was scheduled for April 5, 2012 at 5:00 a.m. At 3:30 a.m. the hospital called and said that there were no rooms available for me. So I went back to sleep and at 7 we received another call asking us to come in. I changed in the triage room, had my water broken in a cesarean postpartum room, and after being in labor for a few hours I was moved into the room where we would stay until discharge.
I feel like my labor with Emma was easier than Lily- mostly because I was a little more experienced- but I was also constantly drinking fluids, I had at least a couple of hours of sleep (Still didn't sleep very well- we slept at Kristynn's the night before), and my mom was there. It was so nice to have a seasoned delivery nurse there just for me ;) Especially after my epidural kicked in and I wasn't quite so coherent. Mom was even able to predict when it was time to call the nurse in because the fentanyl in my system was causing my blood pressure to drop too low.
For a few hours my labor didn't progress much. I finally started making some progress after lunch, and around 3:30 I was dilated to a 7. The nurse was about to leave my room when I started to feel pressure, and she checked me again. Within minutes I dilated from a 7 to a 10, and was starting to feel like I needed to push. The doctor was fetched, and at 3:46 p.m., Emma Leigh came into the world. She was 7 lbs 7 oz and 20 inches long.
Emma had jaundice also (her bili levels were around 11.5 at discharge), but because we had gone through it when Lily was born we knew what to do, and thankfully the pediatrician at the hospital sent us home with bili lights. We also made sure she was well fed, and I supplemented her with formula for about the first week. We continued to have her bili levels checked for several days after getting home, and finally she was off the bili lights about a week or so after we got home.
Even though I had stopped nursing Lily less than a year earlier, I felt like we needed to learn it all over again. This time around though it was almost like magic. Emma had no trouble at all finding my breast. I think we waited too long to start Lily off, or maybe it was just my inexperience that got in the way, but that first time was much harder. We avoided giving the bottles that the hospital provided to Emma, anyway, just in case it screwed us up and made things harder.
She has grown so much since then. Emma was rolling over front to back at 2 months, and back to front at 4 months. She was starting to creep around before 5 months, and now can scoot backwards and roll around to reach something she wants. I can only imagine what my house is going to look like when she is running around with her sister :s
I am looking forward to watching her continue to grow into a beautiful little girl like her sister, and to become a big sister herself one day. Each little spirit that comes into our family is a true miracle, and I hope that we will be blessed with more little miracles as our lives continue.
Do your daughters know they are beautiful?
Yesterday, my sweet not-quite-two-year-old tried to help me wash the dishes. While she is far from being able to do the chore by herself, it is yet another reminder that she is no longer a baby. She is becoming a little girl.
My time with my babies is short, and each day that goes by they get older and bigger. Soon my girls will be grown and gone. The best I can hope to do is raise them to know that we love them, that their Heavenly Father loves them, and that they truly are of infinite worth.
Our bishop spoke in fast and testimony meeting today, and what he said really struck me. Someone asked him, "Do your daughters know they are beautiful? If they don't, when they go to college, they will fall prey to someone who will lead them astray, simply because someone tells them that they are beautiful."
This happened to a friend of mine, who didn't know- and may still not know- how beautiful she is. She met a guy who said that she was beautiful, who said there was a light about her. He wasn't a bad guy, but he did not have the gospel in his life and didn't understand what he did to her when he took her virtue. She tried to bring the gospel into his life, but failed, and he left her because the light in her had diminished.
I hope my girls never, ever have to struggle with their self image the way my friend did. I want them to know every day how beautiful and precious they are, and how they deserve a man who will treat them like the
queens they are destined to become. If any boys decide to come into our family I will make sure they know the same, and teach all of our children to treat their spouses like the kings and queens they can become by following God's plan.
My time with my babies is short, and each day that goes by they get older and bigger. Soon my girls will be grown and gone. The best I can hope to do is raise them to know that we love them, that their Heavenly Father loves them, and that they truly are of infinite worth.
Our bishop spoke in fast and testimony meeting today, and what he said really struck me. Someone asked him, "Do your daughters know they are beautiful? If they don't, when they go to college, they will fall prey to someone who will lead them astray, simply because someone tells them that they are beautiful."
This happened to a friend of mine, who didn't know- and may still not know- how beautiful she is. She met a guy who said that she was beautiful, who said there was a light about her. He wasn't a bad guy, but he did not have the gospel in his life and didn't understand what he did to her when he took her virtue. She tried to bring the gospel into his life, but failed, and he left her because the light in her had diminished.
I hope my girls never, ever have to struggle with their self image the way my friend did. I want them to know every day how beautiful and precious they are, and how they deserve a man who will treat them like the
queens they are destined to become. If any boys decide to come into our family I will make sure they know the same, and teach all of our children to treat their spouses like the kings and queens they can become by following God's plan.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Almost ready
I suppose since I have a few minutes to myself I can spend a little time on my little blog :). Within a few weeks time I will have very little time to myself so I might as well take advantage of what I've got. It still seems a little unreal to me that I will have not one, but two little girls in my home very soon. Lily is getting more curious about the second crib in her room, and though she understands it is for a baby, she still has no clue that the baby will require a lot of mommy and daddy's attention, or that mommy is even having another baby.
Everything is just about ready for baby Emma's arrival; I just need to make sure someone will be able to take care of baby #1 when baby #2 comes. My suitcase is packed, I have a list of things to grab when the time comes, and the babies' room is pretty much ready. The most important thing I wanted to accomplish before the baby comes was to pass my national pharmacy tech certification exam- which I drove up to Salt Lake for and passed on Monday- yay! The rest of the semester will be a cakewalk for me- I won't have to take the final exam or the test next week, and if I miss class I will get credit for being there anyway. I would still like to go when I can because there is still more I can learn; but if it isn't convenient for me to find a babysitter then I won't worry about going. As soon as the semester is over and I have my certificate I can go apply for my Pharmacy Technician license.
Since I have that accomplished, I am just watching and waiting for this little girl to decide that she is ready to begin her journey on earth. I will probably be induced between 39-40 weeks if my labor does not start before then; which since I live more than an hour from the hospital is just fine with me. So I have a definite end in sight, but I think these last three weeks are going to feel like the longest weeks ever. I have a list of projects to take my mind off of waiting though- revamping my ugly glider, designing and sewing a new nursing cover, stocking our freezers and cupboards with easy meals and snacks, and hunting for as many grocery bargains as I can find. I keep getting in trouble for rearranging the furniture in our apartment, so I need to find another outlet for my energies. She will be here before I know it, I'm sure!
Everything is just about ready for baby Emma's arrival; I just need to make sure someone will be able to take care of baby #1 when baby #2 comes. My suitcase is packed, I have a list of things to grab when the time comes, and the babies' room is pretty much ready. The most important thing I wanted to accomplish before the baby comes was to pass my national pharmacy tech certification exam- which I drove up to Salt Lake for and passed on Monday- yay! The rest of the semester will be a cakewalk for me- I won't have to take the final exam or the test next week, and if I miss class I will get credit for being there anyway. I would still like to go when I can because there is still more I can learn; but if it isn't convenient for me to find a babysitter then I won't worry about going. As soon as the semester is over and I have my certificate I can go apply for my Pharmacy Technician license.
Since I have that accomplished, I am just watching and waiting for this little girl to decide that she is ready to begin her journey on earth. I will probably be induced between 39-40 weeks if my labor does not start before then; which since I live more than an hour from the hospital is just fine with me. So I have a definite end in sight, but I think these last three weeks are going to feel like the longest weeks ever. I have a list of projects to take my mind off of waiting though- revamping my ugly glider, designing and sewing a new nursing cover, stocking our freezers and cupboards with easy meals and snacks, and hunting for as many grocery bargains as I can find. I keep getting in trouble for rearranging the furniture in our apartment, so I need to find another outlet for my energies. She will be here before I know it, I'm sure!
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