Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Smelling so sweet


The other day I was at the grocery store and saw this magazine. I was walking past  and I'm pretty certain it whispered to me. "STOP" It was like a loud yelling-type whisper (that's how magazines talk to me).  I stopped and I couldn't pick it up fast enough and put it in my basket.   I proudly presented it to Rich as soon as I got home. He should be excited that this is the beginning of a new life. He is going to come home everyday to a gorgeously clean home.  The subtitle says, "Your room-by-room guide to a beautiful home." Each page is covered with perfectly cleaned and sparsely decorated rooms.  It makes me feel relaxed just thinking about it.  This book is the answer.  It is answer to all my issue with my house.  All the clutter.  All the junk.  All the mess.  All the laundry.  It will transform it all into a simple, beautiful, immaculate home.  Then my fantasy-world-bubble gets popped when Rich glanced at the magazine and said, "great, one more thing to get left out and make a mess."  Ugh...and he's right. He's right. Already...it's doing that.  Rich knows me so well.  There are somethings that I am good at, but cleaning and time management are not my forte.  Sometimes he will ask me what my plans are for the day and I tell him and usually I am really proud of all that I am going to do and usually I still have a list in the back of my mind that I don't tell him about because they are my "reach" items that will take some luck to accomplish and even with leaving those items off my list of plans he says to me, "Ummmm...I think you are being way to optimistic on the amount you can get done in that amount of time." Annnnd he's right. 

I guess this is what happens after 10 years of marriage.  If turning 30 didn't make me feel old and by old I mean mature, being married for 10 years certainly does.  When I was 19 years old and I was nervous about getting married that young, because my biggest fear was that I would be 30 and miserable and wonder why anybody let the 19 year-old make the decision.  Well, I can happily say that that is not the case and I don't regret my decision for an instant. Alright, I know that is cheesy.  BUT how about this for a love story: When I was in my first year of PA school Richard worked as a custodian (this is the preferred term over janitor according to Rich). He was working at a middle school and one day came home with a gift for me.  It was perfume and I loved the scent, but I knew we didn't have enough money for him to just be buying me gifts and it was kind of suspicious that this particular bottle of perfume was half full and didn't have a lid.  I mean a gift is a gift right?  Who cares that Rich found it in an empty locker.  It is still the only perfume that I own and every time I see it it sort of makes me laugh. I'm so fancy with my lovely perfume that was left in a junior high locker 7 years ago. Ahh...we are romantic aren't we.  I should write about of our love stories.  
Oooorrrrr not. 

Here are our comings and going for the last month...we really have been coming and going ALOT!


We had the best reunion with all my roommates from college, most of our kiddos and some of our husbands.  How do we have so much to talk about?  But we did and do!  It was so fabulous.  We even had itineraries and organized activities and menus.  It was crazy and just awesome.

our progeny





My brother is a pretty cool uncle.  I like this pic of Garrett and his "long-haired freaky people"/hooligans coloring with his 3-year-old niece.  

Boating with the family.  Oh how I love boating.  I am pretty sure families that boat together stay together.  





In my family the rule was if you let go and ended your run without doing something cool everyone would spit on you when the boat came around.  I am so pathetic that nobody even bothers to spit on me anymore. But whatever I can still get up on a wake board.

For anyone who is wondering how baby Bridger is doing ...here is Jennie's Blog
First appt at the dentist.
a few weeks after this happened I reminded Charlotte of how she went to Daddy to get her teeth cleaned and she was pretty emphatic, "Daddy didn't clean my teeth, Jessica DID!!"  She is so right. What are you even doing at work Richard?!?!  J/k  I still don't really know what a crown is, but I know your job involves those things. 






Thursday, August 7, 2014

The birth of a soul

The night before my sister, Jennie, got married I went into her room to say goodnight to her.  She was having trouble falling asleep and asked me to "put make up on" her. The tradition of "putting make up on" each other started in elementary school when we would spend the entire time at church entertaining ourselves by pretending to apply make up to each others face. Who doesn't love the feeling of your face being gently caressed (sounds so much more dramatic when I say caressed. caressed>rubbed). I remember staring at her face in the dark tearing up that my "baby sister" was getting married and was so grown up (she is all of two years younger than me, but I think every oldest child thinks of the rest of their siblings as babies.)  Eight years later I found myself "putting make up on" her again and it was such a special moment. I was invited (ok the truth is I really invited myself...but who's counting) to be there when she delivered their second baby boy.  With her first baby she was in a birth center and with her friend April as her doula.  She wrote this beautiful birth story for her.  April couldn't be there this time and I wanted to record this for Jennie.  I really love reading birth stories, so I thought I would post this.

A little background on this story.  Back in March I got an excited text that Baby Taylor #2 would also be a boy.  The next morning I called Jennie.  She listened to me vent about my screaming kids, tantrums, lack of sleep, how I thought she was having a girl and she was just so sweet listening to me go on and on.  When I finally stopped talking about myself I asked how the ultrasound was and then her voice cracked a little when she said, "uhh not good."  She explained that their baby had gastroschisis. I knew she was heartbroken that Bridger would have to have surgery and be in the NICU.  I also knew how much Jennie enjoyed her unmedicated birth center experience with Carter and I worried about how she would handle an induced hospital birth.  Jennie kept a stellar attitude about everything.  She didn't tell anybody except close family until right before delivery because she wanted everyone to be just as excited about Bridger as Carter.  She decided to look at the hospital as a chance to experience something different for L&D.  

She was scheduled for an induction and was to report to the hospital on Saturday, July 26 at 7pm and we were under the impression that the pitocin wouldn't be started until 7 am on Sunday.  Jennie called me at 10 pm to inform me that they were starting pitocin at midnight.  I got to the hospital at about 1:30 am and Jennie and Jordan were both lying awake in a dark room.  I jumped in bed with Jennie and we all were pretending to go to sleep, but it was sort of like one of those junior high slumber parties where everyone keeps saying it is time to go to sleep and then somebody makes a joke or toots (because let's face it that is as good as any joke out there) and then everyone erupts into laughter. I am telling you this was no boring L&D room, it was a good ole slumber party. I guess one of us was having contractions with an IV in her arm, but you would not have known it.  Finally, we all fell asleep for a few minutes(like 15).  

The nurse came and turned up the pitocin and Jennie said it was time to walk.  We walked the halls of the ward for two hours and I think it took that long for her to tell me about the adventures of her Saturday, because we were talking ourselves into a maze and interviewing each nurse about her life history.  We were just chatting away and Jennie had a smile on her face almost the whole time....sometimes the smile looked a little more like a grimace, but she was still attempting a smile. I was just so proud of her and so happy to call her my sister.

 One hilarious moment came when a first year resident told her that it was time for her to be checked again and Jennie replied (with the smile on her face), "oh good, I can't wait for you to shove your short little fingers in me."  The resident totally had a startled look on her face. I was told that the first time she checked her Jennie asked her if she could feel her tonsils yet.  Jennie cracked jokes the ENTIRE time.  She was hilarious. The resident checked her and said, "you are still at two centimeters...no change since I checked you last (8 hours earlier...before pitocin)."   Talk about a blow to your confidence...all that work and contracting and walking and pitocin and NO change.  I could tell Jennie was disappointed.  After the resident left her nurse, Carly, who was the sweetest person,  said, "She seemed a little unsure, maybe it is better than you think" (very diplomatic Carly).  Jennie asked Carly to check her again and it was a good thing, because Jennie was actually 5 cm.  At this point Carly suggested a nice bath and filled it up.  Did I mention that Carly was amazing? We kind of wanted to wrap her up and take her home in our bags.

 Fact: this little off-the-shoulder sexy photo is on purpose because if you are in labor and look this good, you kind of deserve a sexy off-the-shoulder photo.


Jennie was starting to feel the contractions and she just calmly swayed and did her breathing.  There is nothing quite as incredible as seeing the strength of a woman in labor.  I knew what she was feeling and experiencing,  but she was so calm and strong.

 One of my other favorite parts was watching Jordan take such good care of Jennie.  It was really special.  I don't know if I can put it into words better than that. I sure am glad these two have each other.





Jennie LOVED the bath.  It was helping her through the contractions and Jordan and I were taking turns "putting make up on" her and "telling jokes". When the water got cold we decided to be really helpful and fill it up with more warm water.  Somehow we managed to drain all the water and break the drain pull, so Jennie sat in the empty tub shivering and contracting while Jordan figured out how to fix the tub and I sat there eating Nutter Butters...because I am helpful like that.  (I never said I would be a good doula).





After a while Jennie said she wanted to try the epidural.  Jordan and I were both sort of hesitant because she was doing so great and we knew she could do it all on her own, but she explained (you know, between contractions) that she loves trying new restaurants and an epidural would be like trying a new restaurant. Thankfully, none of the new restaurants I have tried recently attempted to stick a super long needle in my spine. They broke her water and then we had to switch rooms to be closer to the NICU.  Jennie said that walk down the hall was really hard because the contractions were coming on so strong and fast.  Finally, the anesthesiologist came and got the epidural in.  As soon as it kicked in, Jennie turned around and proclaimed her love for the anesthesiologist who flatly replied, "tell all your friends."

Jennie was almost giddy for the next hour as she kept asking, "am I having a contraction?!?! I can't even tell."  Suffice it to say, if Epidural were a restaurant Jennie would give it 5 stars on yelp. Little Bridger's heart rate was starting to slow during contractions and the delivery team came  in and said it was go time.  Jennie pushed once and he was here.  The doctor and resident were trying to get little buddy untangled and Jennie was talking to him.  She started to talk to him before he was even here.  The sound of a mother talking to her baby for the first time is magical.  There is a tie and a connection that can't be described completely.   Bridger had to make a very quick exit and we barely had time to snap on picture before they took him through the window into the NICU.  We all were relieved when he started to cry as they passed him through the window.  Bridger and Jennie both got cleaned up and were given some medicine and they got Bridger ready for transport to Primary Children's Hospital.  My mom came right after delivery to be there with Jennie.  Something that I thought was so cool about this day was how our families were all involved in this kiddo's arrival.  My sister, Lauren, held Elliott all night so I could be there.  My dad, Garrett and Lauren all got the kids ready and took them to church.  Jordan's parents were watching Carter. My mom and I were both at the hospital.  I went with Jordan to Primary Children's and my mom stayed with Jennie.  It was really neat to feel like we all had our roles to help out.  He already has a pretty stellar fan club.  








 The transport team brought Bridger in to say hi to mom before he left.  I stood back and got some distant pictures.  I know Jennie and Jordan would have loved to have been able to hold their precious baby right then, but even though they couldn't cuddle him with their arms they did with their words and their love.  I could feel that love from the door of the room.  It brought me tears. I stood their and cried while I watched them discover their new little baby boy and they gave him such a welcome spot in their hearts.  I was so grateful to have been able to witness it.


Sunday, July 6, 2014

30

When I graduated from PA school I was 23.  For the first few years of work when people would ask me how old I was, I would lie.  I would tell them I was 28.  It seemed believable and more mature. Soooo I'm turning 30 this week.  THHHIIIRRRTTYY.  And the thing is, I really feel like 30 is young. Real young.  About 4 years ago I was at book club and a friend was telling everyone how she was freaking out about turning 30 and I remember thinking that 30 was not a big deal.  I couldn't figure out what there was to freak out about.  But now that it is me...I've been thinking. (A dangerous past time...I know) I'm kind of feeling weird about it. The other day I was going to listen to music and I hovered over my itunes and ugh...I'm sick of all my music and I needed to listen to something new...and cool?  I went to spotify...not pandora...because my younger siblings use spotify and I am trying to stay up on things and not fall too far behind the times. Anyway, I get to spotify and start to try to find music and I think I gotta call Garrett and find out who he is listening to. Garrett is 17 and he is my guru on all things hip these days...you know...what the kids are doin.  A typical conversation between G and I goes like this:
Me: Hey G nice hair...Is that what the kids are wearin these days?
G: uh sure
Me: soo do you like my shirt
G: uh I guess...yea it's cool
Me: soooo you think I look cool
G: nah, you're a mom. you can't be cool anymore.

Anyway, so back to my day trying to find music...then G's words come to me and I realize..to a certain degree he's right.  This is where the real deep thoughts start.  I started thinking about clothes and trends.  Half the time I can't even figure out what is "in style" these days and don't know how to walk the fine line of wearing things that are in style that is somewhere between trying to dress like a teenager and looking like I am wearing "mom jeans". Except that I am a mom...right?! So where does that leave me?  Forever 21...is it time to let that go? Can a 30 year old "shop responsibly" there?  Then the thought comes, my kids will be embarrassed of me when they get older no matter what I wear.  Then I start thinking about about the 80's and how our mom's were still up on the trends when they were rocking the banana clips and getting perms and using those little circular shirt clip thingys. I am feeling like thirty is a weird point where you can become frumpy or not. Then I get back to thinking about music and wondering if wanting to find new bands and songs means I am trying too hard and denying the reality of aging.   Then I start thinking about how weird it is that Mark Whalberg is no longer the heart throb in the movies and now he is the dad.   Then I go ahead and have diarrhea of the mouth about all this stuff to Rich. Anndd..............he just stares at me for a second or two (I can't really blame him...how does one reply to insanity) and then he says, "Maybe you should make a blog called 30 and popular and then you can decide what is cool for 30 year olds."  It is at that moment when I realized, I am being ridiculous.  And honestly I don't know why I am publishing all this nonsense, except I have been thinking about it.

Maybe what I am trying to say is I don't know how to age gracefully.  And also sort of that I didn't really plan my life much beyond thirty.  I have vivid memories of being a kid and fantasizing about when I would be 16 and 25.  Those seemed like prime ages (and in my fantasy I was always wearing fabulous lime green leggings and an oversized aqua blue sweatshirt...don't ask me why.) Now I am turning thirty and I guess I need to start fantasizing about what I want to be when I am 40 or 56 or 82.  Lime green leggings and an oversized aqua blue sweatshirt???  Maybe that is the key.

Anybody have any aging advice for me?




 Mammie gave Charlotte a barbie that used to be Nana's barbie.  Charlotte has turned into a hermit in an effort to have more barbie playing time.
 We went to San Francisco for a family reunion and it was fabulous!!



 Cousin love
 Second cousin love


 Sausalito (I can't say it without saying like the old pepperidge farm cookie commercials)  Also, Charlotte was shaking her head and trying to avoid having her picture taken...punk
 I was insisting on trying a french macaroon...never had one before and SF seemed like a good place to look for one.  Twas good.




 Happy 32nd birthday to Richard...glad you aren't having some kind of weird identity crisis.  32 and popular.
 My cupcakes for Rich's birthday did not travel well. Rich called them "f" cupcakes...the f can mean whatever you would like ;)