I feel like I should post. That I'm neglecting my journal. But I have pregnancy induced insomnia, a head cold, and a baby that won't get out of my blasted ribs. So this is as good as it gets for right now.

City Manager's 5K

The Big Race was this morning. At least, that's what we've been calling it to get ourselves psyched up for the City Manager's 5K. We needed some psyching up because it was FREEZING! Like, in the 30s (don't roll your eyes, we live in South Texas for crying out loud. It was COLD! Especially when all of your winter gear is tucked neatly in a Rubbermaid container in your parent's basement in Utah). Bryan was the only one, obviously, who took it seriously. I was hoping just to avoid the inevitable stares when people take in me, and my gigantic belly, trying to steer a free spirited 3 year old in a semi-direct course.

The gun started and field was off! This was when Maya spotted Harry the Hemoglobin (a Health Dept. mascot. He's a cartoon blood droplet. Yep, that's what I said.) and couldn't be consoled until she had touched his costume. Minor setback, but we had planned to cut some corners to make up time anyway. We chased ducks, scaled curbs, and even checked out "art".

It was all fun and games until Maya decided she was too pooped to keep walking, which meant me carrying 30 lbs. of baby weight, plus 35 lbs. of squirmy kid at least a mile. Luckily Dad came jogging back in the home stretch to save the day, but the novelty had long since worn off by that point. So we headed straight home. And this is what we all kind of felt like:

My baby is 3. Crazy. I'm about to have another baby. Which automatically bumps Maya up to "big girl" status. That kind of makes me sad. But proud at the same time. She really is a great kid. She loves books, puzzles, musical instruments, and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. She's quick to say she's sorry, and loves hugs and kisses. She is empathetic and sweet, and has the cutest little singsong voice. If she had her way, she would run and run and run all day long. She's going to be an athlete, I tell you (but no pressure :). Her spirit is a gift to our family and we couldn't love her more. Happy Birthday Maya Papaya!

Happy Birthday Maya!

Rather than attempting to make a "whatever your kid is into" cake that would have taken me hours and was pretty much guaranteed to be a disaster, we stuck with angel food from a mix and lots of whipped cream and strawberries (always a crowd pleaser). Maya's favorite part was blowing out the candles, and we had to relight them at least 7 times before she would even touch the cake. My flash decided to stop working when she opened presents, so I guess there will be no photographic proof that she ever got a darn thing. I'm sure she'll be traumatized. This kid cracks me up. Just look at that concentration!

Yeah, Yeah I'm 3. Did You See There Was a Cake?

Just a preview. More complete birthday update after present unwrapping tonight!

Is That Why Everyone in Line at the RedBox Was Looking at Me Funny?

We scored some free Spurs tickets for the Rockets game yesterday, and after a quick call to an available baby-sitter (one of the many benefits of being the Beehive Advisor) Bryan and I headed downtown like a couple of carefree kids. Well, as carefree as we could be considering I nearly went into labor being dragged up the stairs to our seats (Bryan was apparently in a hurry). We were on the very top row of the arena, which actually was pretty awesome since we didn't have to worry about the people behind us having their view blocked and eavesdropping in on our witty game commentary.

Bryan's main objective was to relate to me and have me absorb his intimate knowledge of each of the players, and mine was to take a handheld picture of the two of us with my face not looking fat. Unfortunately, I don't think either of us was successful.




But we had a great time and were grateful to spend some one on one time before Steve-io makes his big appearance!

Oh, and the Spurs lost. Go Jazz!

Remarkably, Maya's mood seemed to improve once Mom put the camera away and removed the bamboo skewers from underneath her fingernails.

Happy Birthday, Grandma!!!

Nesting

Nesting is a funny thing. Especially the second time around. When Maya was born, we lived in a 800 square foot 1 bedroom apartment, and had recently allocated our available resources to moving 1500 miles across the country. Needless to say I wasn't out spending thousands on nursery decor. Neither of us knew what to expect anyway, so we just kind of went into it in blissful oblivion. My attitude this time around is much different. It still doesn't revolve around the perfect finishing touches for the baby's room (I've decided to be practical and decorate the room as a guest bedroom, and then stick all of the baby stuff in it. Better for resale, and neither Bryan nor I want to repaint anyway), it's more about survival. See, Maya is a great kid who we, of course, adore. But her first few months of life were rough. I don't particularly want to relive the details, but I will say that I think she was trying to assert control using sleep deprivation torture tactics. So, my new baby "to do" list is somewhat unconventional. Mostly it includes a 2-3 month supply of everything. Food, clothing, diapers, wipes, formula, medicines, laundry soap, toilet paper, you name it. We got the cadillac of papasan swings and a foam topper to make the guest bed in the baby's room a dream (pun intended). I won't have to get out of my pajamas or leave the house unless I want to. The plan is to have Bryan take the baby shift until midnight, and I'll get up when the baby wakes in the early morning and just sleep in his room so Bryan won't be disturbed. That way each of us should hopefully get a six hour block of sleep each night (I know that well-laid plans when it comes to a newborn mean absolutely nothing, but I feel better knowing an attempt will be made).

You may think this is overkill. Maybe it is. But there is a reason why my two children aren't closer together in age. Of course I wanted more kids. I see what Maya has, and is becoming and I'm so grateful to be her mother. That I was able to carry her and care for her and watch as she becomes more independent. That said, I'm not particularly looking forward to the birth/newborn stage of this new little guy. I'm no masochist. I'm nervous, and not afraid to admit it (even being Utah born and raised :). But there will be joy in my posterity, and a few (er, several) sleepless, achy months is a small price to pay for someone to care about me when I'm old and lonely, right? Right?

Knock-Off Wood

Super cool blog I came across. I actually was on a friend's blog, who lives on the east coast, and she had a link to this site written by a woman in Alaska. And coincidentally, her blog was designed by a friend of mine in the ward here (the Blog Fairy). Has blogging revolutionized the world or what?

Knock-Off Wood

Who doesn't like Pottery Barn/Land of Nod/West Elm/Restoration Hardware furniture? If you said "me", I don't believe you. Who likes the prices? If you said "me", you have too much money. This woman has reverse engineered plans for all sorts of fabulous furniture so you can build it yourself at a fraction of the cost. Building an equivalent out of pine, or another inexpensive wood will take more sanding and paint (I'm assuming, I've yet to build anything, or should I say Bryan has yet to build anything with my "help"), but if I can get a bedframe for $120 instead of $1300 or some bookshelves for $60 instead of $700, I'm down. That's totally within my meager Etsy shop earnings. Hooray for the internet!

Family Pics

Bet you family thought I forgot about these. I didn't. I'm working on them right now, in fact. I was just thinking that it always seems to amaze me what you learn about a person (even a family member) when you stare very closely at their face for moderate periods of time (on the computer, in photo form. While editing. Not in a weird way).

For example, I learned that Bryce is destined to be quite the ladies' man. He's got the steely "come hither" stare down.


And some 13 year olds don't seem to have an "awkward" phase (unfair).


And that some 6 year old girls have perfected the princess head tilt.


Oh, and there are adults too.

Name Game

We are struggling to figure out a name for our unborn child. Well, we have been struggling to find an "appropriate" name for our unborn child (no Bryan, naming our son after your favorite G.I. Joe character is not appropriate. Maybe if it were Duke or Ace, I might at least pretend to consider it. It's not my fault your fav happens to be Snake Eyes).

Boy names are tricky. It's got to be a good sports name, but not a football sports name, a skinny kid sports name, like for basketball or volleyball. I'd like the middle name to have some familial meaning, yet still has to work with the last name (sorry Dad, your name is out. Layne Layton? I just couldn't do that to the poor kid.) Also I'd prefer it wasn't too trendy, but also not odd in an attempt to avoid trendiness, which is kind of trendy. Or spelled weird.

Here are some that I have liked so far:

Blake
Jett (which was vehemently vetoed by my sister, in language only a sister can get away with)
Austin (not like the city in Texas. I just like the name)
And a few others have mild appeal, more for middle name/nicknames; like Crew or Scout

Any suggestions? Please?

New Job

My first day of orientation on the Fire Department's Hazmat Team.

(sigh) I should have been a firefighter...