About an amazing man

I really enjoyed reading this short column. Check it out.

Fun in a box

Who didn't love being pushed around in a box when you were little?




It was always fun until your older sister pushed you down the stairs in the box, right? (Sorry Robin, Ryan told me to add that little blurb, but I have a vague memory of doing the same thing to my little brother)

Blech - another super long blog entry

Warning: you may not enjoy reading this entry if you have a weak stomach.

Last night Ethan and I attended a Relief Society function at our local Noodles & Co. (blech). I started to eat my pesto cavatappi and noticed that it was quite dry and not as good as it used to be. But I ate it anyway. Ethan kept reaching for my plate, so I gave him a few noodles to try.

Nearing the end of our party, I began to feel a little nauseous. I thought it might be because, at that point, I was walking around visiting with other women with a 23-pound baby in my arms and 3 1/2-inch heels on my feet. That can always make you dizzy. But after I sat down again, I still felt odd. My friend Rachel inquired upon my meal and I told her it wasn't so hot, but I couldn't complain because it was quite inexpensive.

Well now I'm complaining.

I felt absolutely horrible when I reached my apartment. Ryan was still in class so I quickly put Ethan to bed and laid on the couch. Suddenly, my mouth filled with warm saliva and I knew that I needed to get to the toilet fast. I ran and pulled up the lid just in time for my pesto cavatappi and a pizza I had eaten earlier in the day to slide right back out. I felt a lot better for about 10 minutes. I drank some water and ate a few fruit snacks.

Then I heard Ethan cough. Then I heard him spew.

I ran into his room to find him covered in puke that looked a lot like mine. I stripped him down and tried to clean him off the best I could, but I was feeling terrible at this point and couldn't do much other than hold him. We watched T.V. for a while while he drank some water. Of course, he vomited again, but this time on the carpet. I felt so wretched that I crawled over to grab some napkins and just put them on top of the mess and hoped some of it would absorb.

I pulled the second pair of pjs off of him. We continued to lose all that was in our stomachs. At one point, Ethan had just thrown up all over me and I started to vomit into a nearby bucket. He was screaming and covered in nastiness, but I couldn't help because I just kept puking.

Ryan walked in to see this calamity and SAVED THE DAY. He gave Ethan a bath, cleaned up the vomit that covered countless towels, the carpet, the sheets and everything we had touched. He talked to the doctor, rocked Ethan to sleep, then slept by our son the rest of the night. That left me to wallow in misery in the entire bed. He stayed home from work for much of the day today to give me some time to sleep it off. He is such a wonderful husband and father.

I think together, Ethan and I spewed at least 12 times. We are feeling a little better today (minus our loss of appetites and achiness all over) but that won't stop us from tarnishing the name of Noodles & Company!

Ethan loves toys and Dad

You know you live next to a freeway when...

... your child, who is barely learning his animal sounds, can mimick the high pitch of a police siren with precision.

Diluvio!

I learned a tiny bit of Spanish in college, but lately I'm thinking it was not enough.

A few months ago, I made a purchase at a national chain store and as I was checking out, the worker asked me for my phone number. I recited it and she typed it in, only to hear a buzzer when she was finished.

"Again?" she asked.

So I told her my number again, only this time I noticed that she wasn't pressing the right numbers. After a third failed attempt at getting my phone number in the store's records, I tried to remember my numbers in Spanish.

"Cuatro, tres, cinco," I began.

I recited my number in her language and laughed that I was having to do this in my American store, here in Arlington, Va.

While that was just funny, my language dilemma became a serious issue yesterday, when I entered my flooding living room. Water was gushing out of my brand new convector. Kind men who spoke what I believe to be several different languages (I'm thinking some were Russian, others Latino and the last guy, I'm not so sure), had replaced my convectors days earlier.

Frantically, I dialed my manager while ripping towels out of the linen closet. An answering machine for a Chinese restaurant was on the other line. I tried again and this time, got the manager's voice mail.

In seconds, the water filled up a large bowl I put under the flow. I knew the convector men were on another floor of the building replacing someone else's convectors, so I grabbed Ethan and sprinted for the stair well. We finally found their equipment in the hallway on the fourth floor. I dashed into a nearby door, which was open. An old lady led me to her bedroom, where a Latino convector man was cleaning up.

"My convector is flooding!" I practically yelled.

He just stared at me.

"Water is coming out all over," I continued.

Another blank stare.

I thought for a second.

"AGUA!" I yelled and pointed at the convector in that woman's apartment.

His eyes suddenly lit up and I knew we had communicated.

"207," I said my apartment number while making the numbers with my fingers.

Luckily the flooding had stopped while we were gone, and the men cleaned the mess up quickly. So I'm learning my emergency words in case of a fuego or robo!

Swinger

I know, I know, enough with the swinging baby photos. It's just that, though the weather is considerably cooler now than at the beginning of the week, I can't seem to stay away from the park. Ethan loves swinging! Only you can't really tell that when he's actually swinging. He always has this bored look on his face (except in the photos because he likes to smile for the camera). It's when you try to pull him out of the swing and he starts screaming like he just got a flu shot that you realize he loves to swing.

On the other end of the news

The newspaper I used to work for, The Herald Journal, ran a story about mommy bloggers today. I helped the reporter, Laura Mecham, find some contacts for the story (my sister, Kenz and good friend, Katy) and I ended up being in the article as well. It felt a little weird to be in a story instead of writing it. It was a good read though, Laura.

Sunny and 70

My sister recently posted about the weather in Logan, Utah. She titled it "Balmy 47" which made me laugh. But seriously, that is really awesome weather for a January in Cache Valley, a place where - forgive me for the awful visual - you usually feel your nose hairs freeze up when you walk outside during winter.

So I thought I'd post about our weather too (I'm sorry McKenzie, I'm in a better world right now). It is January 8, and it was in the low 70s this afternoon. We played at the park for hours (yes, that's Ethan in a T-shirt) and enjoyed the rays. It was a lovely day.

My day turned sour (a little too literally) when I dropped the Prego on the kitchen tile and the red sauce bubbled out all over. Ryan cleaned that up (what a wonderful husband). Minutes later, I knocked a large bottle of balsamic vinegar off the counter with my elbow. It exploded as it, too, hit the floor and glass and vinegar shot across the room. It took me over an hour to clean the mess up and now our entire apartment smells like sour vinegar.

And finally, the paperwhites bloomed!

My hair is growing back!

This might remind some of you of a very ill-fated run-in I had with a blow-dryer several years ago, but this time, Ethan may be the culprit.

After I had him in February, my hair starting falling out in chunks. There were more of my hairs on the pillows than Ryan's (that was a definite first) and I would always wipe a handful of hair off the drain after I showered. At that rate, I knew I would be bald by the time Ethan turned one.

But a few months ago, I stopped having to pick a nest of hair out of my brush each time I used it and I noticed a difference in the way I felt. I can't really pinpoint why my hair started falling out and I felt exhausted all the time in the first place, but I'm guessing it might have had something to do with sleep deprivation.

The good news: my hair is now growing back! The bad news: it's coming back in the form of these patches of inch-long hair all over my head. After I blow-dry, they stick straight up and if I don't blow-dry, they turn into these crazy short curls.

p.s. Sorry about the horrible photo.

Budding in January

So my sister sent me these bulbs about a week before Christmas and they have now turned into long shoots of green with buds on the cusp of exploding into flowers. I decided to post this since these are the only plants I have been able to keep living for longer than a week (including the very droopy Christmas tree in the background). And each day it is exciting to see how much they grow.
Thanks Kenz.
I'll post again when they bloom!