Spurts and Spits

Peter has decided he's done with baby food and wants whatever we're eating, and however we're eating it. His recent favorite activity: spurting his baby food in mommy's face every time the spoon comes anywhere close to his mouth. 

And we both just laugh.

Santa Barbara Surf Shop

The Santa Barbarans come tomorrow! Peter wore his Santa Barbara Surf Shop onesie in honor of their pending arrival.

I am so excited for Lynne and Rick to see Peter. He is already so grown-up and at such a fun stage. I can't wait for them to see him scrambling around, communicating, feeding himself, and explore everything in sight!

I have to write quickly about my favorite thing he does lately. Instead of scooting and crawling forward as he usually does on the rug, he's figured out that the hard-wood floor is so much slicker. He sticks his hands to the floor, and pushes back away from them, squeaking his hands against the wood, and propelling his body backwards! He is scooting backwards! If there is a toy he wants in front of him, he no longer scoots forward to get it (let's face it... that's hard work). So he scoots backwards under the t.v. table, and then he does a three-point turn to face the toy behind him. Then he scoots backwards to reach it (cause that's soooo much easier). It's hard to describe. But I it cracks me up, and I wanted to make sure I remember it. 

Because at the rate he's going, he probably will be doing something different tomorrow.

We just got back from the Museum of Natural History where we got to meet Yvon Chouinard and watch him accept an award. Peter was amazing, and just chilled in my lap with his head resting on my shoulder. About half way through he decided he needed a little more action, so I stepped to the back and chatted with some good friends while Scotty soaked it all in. Yvon Chouinard is one of his heroes. 

And now we're home, waiting for Peter to stop jabbering sweetly in his room so we can creep down the hallway, and burrow in our beds. 

We've got to-do lists to keep and miles before we sleep. But we're going to sleep anyway.

Goodnight!

What If We Had an Earthquake?

I've always thought it was pretty cool to live so close to a zoo. We can hear the train in the evenings... sometimes even the monkeys yapping. One time we opened our front door to find a peacock on our porch. We called the zoo, and they told us it wasn't their peacock. The odds that it was a wild, roaming peacock were just as slim as it being someone's domestic pet... but, believe it or not, it was indeed a pet peacock!

Anyway, yesterday we went to the zoo with Kirsten, Grandma Teri, and the cousins. We waited until Andrew was out of school so he could come. We don't get to spend as much time with Andrew now that he's so big and busy! But it was a blast. He makes me laugh and reminds me more and more of Doug every day. All the kids are great to Peter and love him so much! He is a lucky boy!

Peter loved the zoo, especially the train ride. He just looked around, soaking it all in. We are going to have such a fun summer at the zoo! Thank you to Grandma Teri and Grandpa Dave for the zoo pass! We are so lucky to live three short minutes from the zoo!

Except, maybe if we have an earthquake. We might find a lion in our yard. 

We finished the night off with a delicious dinner of Grandpa noodles from Pei Wei. You know you're a cool grandpa when your grandkids name their favorite noodle after you and call you "Jammin Brother." Thank you for the fun afternoon everyone!

These are cell phone pictures... you never know if they'll turn out, but I guess they did the job!

Little Details

Our peonies have bloomed! They smell amazing, and I
can't believe they retailed for $16 on Mother's Day!
Maybe I should sell them...

Peter LOVES swimming in his Grandma Teri's pool.
He splashes and tries to blow bubbles. He loves the independence of floating in his pool saucer by himself!  

This picture's fuzzy, but it cracks me up! I left the room
long enough to open the fridge in the next room, and
I came back to find this boy standing up! Uh oh!

We have roses too! I love the fresh smell of peonies and roses in our home! We have had so much fun with our garden. We had about 100 tulips and Iris in the spring!

We have been so busy this last week or so. I've been spending time at my sister's helping her organize her new house. It's been fun to have Peter spend time playing with his cousins. The more we're around them, the more he wants to be big like them and do things they do! They have donated some fun toys and clothes to our growing collection. We love them so much! 

Scott started a new semester yesterday, and he's excited about his new classes. He's biking to work every day, and the warm weather has been so nice.

Our house has been project central. We have painted a bunch of furniture, made a fabric-tufted headboard, new bedding pillows, a fabric-tufted ottoman, sanded, sprayed, gardened, pruned, planted, mowed, and moved couches in... out... and in again. We are definitely in spring cleaning mode (well, I am. Scott's just a really good sport)!

25 Time

A few days ago I turned 25. 

As I spoke to a good friend after many many months, it seemed we had switched lives. She was doing all the things I thought I'd be doing, and I was doing all the things she anticipated for herself. 

 My life is nothing like I thought it would have been.

It is better.

I am grateful to be living a life perfectly designed with me in mind. I think I am just as happy as my Heavenly Father means for me to be.

Among my generation is a spreading desire to do "something next." We're supposed to be constantly changing our every circumstance. When you don't have a big, new move to make, people look at you as thought you're sadly stagnant. When we see friends after a lengthy separation, the question that always follows our greeting is, "What are your plans?" or "What are you doing next?" 

Living. 

We're living.  

We live our lives today. We will live our lives tomorrow. We make goals. We grow. We change. All that is part of living. I don't want to wake up one day and realize that my plans for the future have overtaken my enjoyment and appreciation of the present. For now, we're just living a life that we love.

River time, people.

Peter teaches me that better than anyone. He changes so much in an hour. Yesterday he was trying to pull himself up. He was so frustrated when he'd get his bum off the ground and collapse, tired. An hour later, he stood up onto his feet four times in a row. Today he's climbing on my sofa and chairs. He's getting big so quickly. If I don't pay attention, I will miss it. 

After all, a collection of "firsts" is what constitutes our lives, and I want to be there for as many "firsts" as I can. I can't plan most of them. I'm learning to slow down so I don't miss them.

I had a wonderful birthday. Thank you to my friends who sent their love. Scott and I were able to go to a session in the Temple, which is all I've really wanted to do for the last eight months. We had some very special experiences, and felt so much love and gratitude for the life we are blessed to live. After a delicious dinner, we picked up Peter from my parents' house.

And then we went home.

And lived.

We had dinner time, tub time, jammie time, story time, bottle time, and bedtime. Scott and I tiptoed around the house for the rest of the night, read in our bed, and went to sleep.

The secret behind those seemingly-ordinary lives is that they're the most sublime of all our experiences. At least mine is. I've spent 4 birthdays on the river (one of which was the Grand Canyon). I've had surprise parties, elaborate cabin schemes, camping trips, and perfect presents. 

But this was the best birthday yet because I didn't feel like I needed to take a break from my life to feel special. I love my life, and I feel pretty special to be living it. 

 I wouldn't complain, however, if I could eat chocolate-covered-strawberries every morning for breakfast, like I do during birthday week. But that could be part of every-day life, right?

 

Some M Day Thoughts of Mine

Mother's Day has always been my favorite.

It often falls on my Grandma's Birthday. The whole family gathers at my Mom and Dad's house, and we celebrate all the mothers who created our beautiful family, starting with the mother who started it all: my Grandma. 

Will, Mary, Christian, Grandma, Kelly, and I all have birthdays within the same week as Mother's Day. We have a backyard dinner, and I finally convince myself that summer is here to stay. I can dress my baby in shorts and stop wearing cardigans. 

Then I realize that my wardrobe is sadly drab without my cardigans, and I wish it were cooler so I could wear them. I am definitely a spring/fall kind of dresser.

This Mother's Day was especially sacred to me. My life is so much richer because I'm a mother.

Because I'm a mother, and can see something much larger than myself. Every second of ever hour is spent putting someone else before myself. I am learning to be more giving. I am widening and sharpening my perspective all at once.

 Because I am a mother, I see a whole new realm of beauty. I used to think a canyon or a river to be the height of God's creation, but I get to keep the greatest of his World Wonders in my own home. I get to care for it, see it every day, feel a love that is the closest thing to heaven I have ever known. 

And I have seen heaven.

Because I am a mother, I find myself saying I love you every third phrase of the day. How can my day be anything but extraordinary - how can my life be anything but perfect - when it is filled with so much love? I have a whole new appreciation for my wonderful mother. She is my best friend and greatest example of everything I want to be. I am a lot like her, and happy to be. While the strength, sacrifice, and love she has shown me was more evident in my months of recovery, I know that that she has offered me this strength, sacrifice, and love in the same way and magnitude my entire life. I'm just finally paying more attention, appreciating it more, and trying to emulate and return.

When I think about the fact that I have spent the last eight months of my life in heart failure, I have to laugh a little. It is just the most ridiculous thought! Of all the things that went wrong after Peter's birth, heart failure feels to strangest concept. As doctors tell me my heart has problems, it doesn't function fully, it needs time to heal, I sit there thinking, "My heart has never worked so well. Hearts are ours to love. And I've never loved so much or so strongly."

Church was so lovely! I no longer felt guilty accepting the Mother's Day chocolate they hand out during sacrament meeting. I earned that chocolate, and I savored every bite as I walked home in my springy skirt with my beautiful little family. I cherish my family. We worked hard to stay together. 

I loved hearing the primary children sing. 

"Mother, I love you. Mother, I do. Heavenly Father has sent me to you." 

He sent me to you.

My baby is a gift. Heavenly Father sent him to me. I received him, just as I will receive the other spirits waiting for us, watching us, and preparing to come to us in an equally miraculous way. I felt the love of the Lord so strongly as I heard him remind me that my family was together in spirit before the foundation of this earth. We are a family because of our spirits. 

While I love that Peter has my eyes, ears, mouth, and nose, that's not what makes him mine. I knew his spirit before I ever knew what it was like to hold him physically. I stared at a picture of Peter for days in the ICU, and as I looked into his eyes, I wasn't searching for signs of myself. I saw his spirit, and it was a spirit I knew. Our children aren't ours because they have our nose or our freckles. They are ours because they are those same spirits who have been with us from the beginning. I will know my other children by their spirit as surely as I knew my Peter.
 

But that doesn't mean that I don't admire his big toe every time I change his socks.

My day was filled with some beautiful gifts. Johnny gave me pictures from the very first hours of Peter's life... hours that I missed, that I've never seen. I cried the instant I saw them, and I wanted to hide in a closet where I could bond with those pictures, as if they could tether me to the moments I missed. It was the most beautiful gift from a considerate brother.

This little is the greatest gift of all. Each Mother's Day, I have a built-in gift in him that I get to receive again and again. Thanks for making me a mother!

“Eve was given the identity of “the mother of all living”—years, decades, perhaps centuries before she ever bore a child. It would appear that her motherhood preceded her maternity, just as surely as the perfection of the Garden preceded the struggles of mortality. I believe mother is one of those very carefully chosen words, one of those rich words—with meaning after meaning after meaning. We must not, at all costs, let that word divide us. I believe with all my heart that it is first and foremost a statement about our nature, not a head count of our children.”

-Patricia Holland, One Thing Needful: Becoming Women of Greater Faith in Christ

Alys-s-a.

We've had a crazy weekend. 

Friday was filled with sanding, painting, drilling, spraying, and roping. I'll explain why some other time.

Saturday was filled with kid-shuffling, box-shuffling, schedule-shuffling, flower-shuffling, and Alyssa-shuffling!

The day started with Scott heading up to help Kirsten and Nick move in to their new house. I took Peter with me to work and made a dozen boutineers while he played on a blanket by my feet or on my hip in a sling. What a perfect, content little boy! After my mom and dad picked him up from the store, my day was filled with flowers for prom and mother's day. It was so much fun to spend the day at work, feeling rushed and creative, chatting with friends, and working with my hands. 

After a long day for everyone, we all met downtown at the beautiful O.C. Tanner Store where Johnny proposed to Alyssa on the balcony. He set up a lovely display with memories from their very first date as little highschoolers. I sneakily got to watch through the window as my camera stalked them and captured some beautiful moments. When they came back in, the whole family, Wiests, Petersens, Hannays, and Evans, were there to celebrate while Alyssa picked out her dream ring with her mom and sisters. I'd post some of the pictures, but they are the couple's to share or keep! We absolutely love Alyssa and her entire family! We already feel like family, so it'll be wonderful to make it official this summer! We love Johnny too. I think the world of my little brother. It's hard to think he'd ever actually find an equal, but he has seriously made the steal of the century with Alyssa. They will make the most amazing couple! We love you both!

My dad can't figure out why Alyssa needs two s's in her name. "What does the second s do that the first s doesn't accomplish?" He pronounces both s's. "Alys-s-a." 


To be fair, he should probably also pronounce the equally-useless h in John. "Jo-han"

Serenity

A few days ago, I read a comment on my friend Caitlin's blog that I love. 

"Depression means you are living in the past. Anxiety means you are living in the future. Serenity means you are living in the present." 

When I think about my life, serene is not exactly the word I'd choose to describe the day-to-day. But I like to think that as a whole, it is filled and characterized by elements of serenity. It is serene as I rock my little to sleep in the middle of the night. It is serene when his smile greets me in the morning. I love to creep into his room, "I hear somebody in here," and watch his neck contort so he can see me, east of him in the doorway. My life is serene when I think of those I share it with, all the people I love who also love me. The quality of that love is serene. The quality of my life is serene also. I am very blessed.

I get anxious, and I get depressed. The latter only lasts for a second at a time, and I'm grateful for that. It's a beautiful thing to understand the source of both. Both are such ugly words, and they invoke the feelings they mean. Just the sound of the word "anxiety" makes me anxious! The feelings are appropriately named! 

Serenity is a lovely word. I doubt I will ever be the embodiment of such a virtue. "There's Lindsey, isn't she just serene?" That probably will never be the case! But I love the overall bubble of serenity that seems to encircle my home when, even in the busy, tired, mess, we can enjoy every second of our present.

And as I grow and improve, and as I'm blessed with insight and joy, I am even learning to apply serenity to my thoughts of the future. I know our future is filled with miracles and flight.

Sweet Pete

I finally cleared the camera card. 

I'm in love.

 

Especially with that awesome hair.

Mommy Mornings

Who doesn't love some relaxing, yet stimulating, Baby Einstein during the wee hours? 

Peter doesn't. 

Not when he can play with his new ball tower. 

Aunt Kirsten sent it our way yesterday, and I swear Peter woke up at 3am just thinking about it. He talked in his crib for an hour before I finally went to get him. I think he was saying "Baa-ll, baa-ll. Well, he was saying "Ba-ba-ba," and I think that's pretty close.

We read some books, talked to Barney, his Daddy's childhood bear, and danced with early-morning-shadows on the walls of his wonderful little room. Still smiley, Little Man convinced me. Anyone care to join us for some ball-tower-fun? I'm sure all my pregnant best friends are up. Too bad we don't live closer. 

 My two best friends are expecting their second babies. I am so excited for them both! When I told Scott the news, he said to me something he says often, "I wish we had started sooner. Have you made an appointment with a caseworker yet?" 

My cute friend Lindsey lives in Logan... Sort of. It's close, I think. Scott and I almost made our way up there to check out a road bike on KSL a few weeks ago. I have every intention of visiting, Linds, and seeing your new house and Q's new walking tricks. (Have they gotten old yet?) Lindsey is an amazing little mom. She was so cute when she announced her pregnancy to me. Worried about my feelings, she didn't want to tell me over the phone and put me on the spot, so she messaged me and let me call her. I couldn't be happier for her. I couldn't be happier for any of you who are blessed to carry babies. It is the greatest blessing! Enjoy every second (even those if you who wish you were sleeping... this moment! Enjoy this one!) 

I read Stephanie Nielson's book in about a day and a half. Though I don't want to minimalize her experience in any way by linking it to mine, it was so familiar to me and my experience in the hospital. I will write about specifics some other time, but the most powerful impression came to me as I read. Stephanie helped me articulate what I feel when I'm up at 4am with my beautiful little weirdo as he slap-happily rolls around my living room.

 I worked hard for moments like this. 

I fought my hardest so I could sit up with this guy in the middle of the night, change his diapers (14 poops yesterday! "What are we feeding this baby, Indian food?"), and help him practice standing on his own all day long. 

Even when I'm tired, or he's tired, or it's hard, or I get nothing done... I fought for this life so I could do all the things people complain about. And I am so grateful. 

For Stephanie it was trying to work the buttons of her daughter's coat with her clumsy, tender, fingers after they had been burned to inaction. It was wanting to make dinner for her kids and get them off to school in the way she'd always done... the way many take for granted. 

 Such a wonderful, simple life, that many people pass right over or dismiss as less-accomplished or easy. 

Mothers are sneaky, and motherhood is a well-kept secret. You can have no way of knowing just how sweet life can be until you are sitting up at 4am with your little boy who has moved on to the chevron firetruck, off again, and would like you to entertain him yourself. 

Especially if you had to fight hard for it. 

Which I think everybody does in their own way.

Scotty's up and out the door so he can bike to work this morning. It's a beautiful morning. I started this blog post at 4:30am, played with Peter, changed two poopy diapers, and ate too many dutch mints for so early in the morning (why do I leave candy in a bowl on my table?).

It's 6am now. Just as daddy's off for a bike ride and work, Peter and I will settle back down in my bed to squeeze a little more sleep before the sun is fully shining. It's shining now, but if I put a pillow over my face and clench the blinds as tight as they'll go, we just might get another 20 minutes more this morning.