Last night I:

• woke up every hour since Anya started crying in her sleep
• got up to feed her "sieyah" (cereal)
• tried to convince her that she did not need a "Dia hane!" (diaper change) since I had JUST changed her

This morning I:

• felt loved by my wonderful man
• dispensed more "Sieyah"
• had a helper actually help me put clothes away in the basket.
• Smiled. I feel well today.

Thanks, Monkey Monkey. I love you.

 

Lifehouse Everything Skit

I like this one.

Monkey Monkey

So...apparently teaching Anya animal sounds has not been the best idea we've ever had. We taught her how to make monkey sounds "oo oo oo" and she liked it SO much that she decided that people words were for losers and she only needed to use monkey words.


She thought this was a great idea, that is, until she realized that we have no monkey-speaking skills. After a week's worth of whining and throwing tantrums because we "weren't listening" to what she was telling us, she started using people words again! Unfortunately, all of her favorite words begin with a d-sound...or she puts the d-sound in front of every word. (Dad, dog, diaper, done, duck, cat, eat, lie down, etc.) For a few more days, we really had no idea what she was trying to tell us again, so the same cycle of tantrums and excessive whining happened again.

After I learned what her words mean again, she has started using more words and keeps pointing to different things and asking, "Wahis da?" (What is that?) When we tell her, she thinks about it, then says, "Eye suh." (I see.)

She also has a sweater with Elmo from Sesame Street on it, and she was wearing it when I took her with me to the Home Depot yesterday. She got my attention and asked, "Wahis da?" while pointing to her shirt.

"It's your Elmo sweater. La La La La, Elmo's world!"

"Oh. Eye suh. Ehmo! Ehmo!"

She then had me take off her sweater so she could give Elmo lots of kisses.

Diaper Disaster

Diaper DisasterDaniel and Anya have very similar personality traits. For example, when they start on something, they HAVE to finish it. It's a good trait and a sign of a good work ethic, however, last night was an extreme clash between my loves!




Daniel needed to change Anya's diaper and set his mind to do so. Anya wanted to play with my wallet (and I'm surprised my debit and credit card are missing...), then take a bath. Daniel put her on the changing table WITHOUT the wallet, not realizing she was very VERY busy with it. I was talking to a friend in the living room and listened as the situation deteriorated from bad to worse.



Evidently, Daniel was determined to put that diaper on. Anya, however, was determined to either play with the stupid wallet or take a bath. Either way, apparently both options required complete nudity. When I say that kid is strong, I mean it takes both of us using most of our body weight to hold her in place when necessary...such as the last time she had shots.



Anyway, after a few minutes of a screaming, defiant little toddler who refused to wear clothing and had, by this point, reached a tantrum level wherein absolutely nothing could make her stop except quiet time in the crib. (I use the word, "quiet" loosely.) Daniel called for help, and I came in to find both of them completely frustrated with one another. I picked up the kid to try to help her calm down, but every time she heard Daniel's voice or looked at him, she'd start her tantrum all over again!



Eventually they both got what they set out to do: Daniel got the diaper on, and Anya got to take a bath...in that order within 15 minutes of each event happening.



After her bath, I talked to Anya about what a nice Daddy she has to change her diapers and always get her ready for bed. Then I talked to her about how it wasn't nice to have a tantrum for Daddy. I told her that she needed to give Daddy a hug and a kiss to say sorry. In all of this, I do realize she's one, and most of this discussion was for our benefit as parents. I took her out into the living room where here Daddy now was, and she jumped into his arms and proceeded to give him lots of kisses and love-rubs. Daniel said he was sorry too, and after the fact we had to look back and laugh since with this personality trait they share, it was essentially Daniel vs. Daniel.



Sometimes I wonder why we're working on this foster/adoption thing as zealously as we are...

Temple Square, Pantsless Toddler, and A Hike Up A Hill

Today Anya and I had an adventure at Temple Square! Before I begin, I just want to say that the destination is beautiful and brilliantly gives a view of the work and dedication that the Mormon Pioneers put in to building this sacred place of worship.

We went with some friends to tour Temple Square. Daniel and I had planned on doing an endowment session, however since Women's Conference was taking place later this evening, ALL of the temples within 50 miles closed early. (Wow, that's weird to say...all? I must live in the Salt Lake Valley or something!) Instead, Anya and I went with our friends to tour Temple Square. Daniel opted to stay home since his darn flat feet make his legs tire out pretty easily. (Plus it's football season...)

I found free parking on the street outside an apartment complex (YAY!) but you get what you pay for and where I parked was 0.5 miles away from temple square and located on top of a pretty steep hill relative to the temple. (It was still worth it...) So I put Anya in the stroller and had a nice little stroll down the hill to our destination. Our friends had opted for metered parking right outside temple square, so naturally they got in LONG before we did. After some confusion in finding one another, we proceeded to take the kids to the South Visitors Center. This building contains information about the temple itself; displaying a model of the temple and what's inside. There are interactive photo galleries which explain the purpose of each room in the temple. The Salt Lake temple is unique in that it holds a conference room which, as I understand (seeing as how I was trying to keep a small person from leaping head-first out of her stroller at the time this was explained) is used for meetings of the first presidency of the church and the quorum of the twelve. I didn't know this room even existed until today! That goes to show you learn something new every day.

In trying to placate my poor bored toddler, I lifted her up to the large window surrounding the building. From where we stood, we had an unobstructed view of the temple. As Anya observed the people walking by, the trees and flowers, and finally the temple itself, I took the opportunity to tell her about the temple. I began by helping her identify what the temple is by pointing to the building and saying, "Anya, look. That's the temple! Anya, say 'temple!'" While she didn't say the word "temple," she did get the word association down and would look toward the temple whenever she heard someone say the word "temple."

Our little group then proceeded to the area where displays are shown of the 19th century tools, building materials, and plaques telling about each of these things. There's also a statue and video of Brigham Young receiving the revelation of where the Salt Lake temple would be built. Thinking of the dedication and faith these people had to make this idea of a temple into a reality is amazing to me.

We then moved to the North Visitor's Center, which is one of my favorite spots in Temple Square. Here is a circular building. On the main floor, the walls are covered with paintings depicting the birth, ministry, suffering in Gethsemane, death, and ressurection of Christ. Each picture is accompanied with a brief explaination written on a podium in front of the painting. In the center of the building is a model of Jerusalem as it would have appeared during the time of the Savior. The model gives descriptions of areas where Christ preached and taught. I took Anya to each picture and briefly told her about what was happening in each painting. I told her that the model was of Jerusalem where Jesus taught.

My favorite part of this visitors' center is the upward sloping spiral. As you walk up, the walls are painted with clouds, distant worlds, and the night sky. It's as if one is at first following the earthly life of our Lord, then we follow him as he symbolically ascends into Heaven. At the top, you are greeted by the Christus statue. To me, it's symbolic of how, after our mortal life is complete, we are given the opportunity to be greeted by our Redeemer in Heaven. The statue looks as if Jesus is greeting the visitors and tourists as he will for many people entering Heaven after this life.

We took a few minutes to sit in the seating provided in this room. Of course, Anya had absolutely no desire to just sit in the stroller while us grown-ups are being boring. I let her out to play on the floor. To my surprise, Anya stood up against the stroller and, while pushing it, used it to walk around the room. I must say, I was quite the proud parent right then. She also made a point of saying hi to everyone in the room. Thankfully most of the people were families with babies her age and sister missionaries. Oh yeah, and janitor polishing the the railing along the wall on the upward spiral. Anya made a point to "help" him before I intervened. I doubt the poor guy would have wanted my sticky, drooly child helping him polish anything. When I grabbed her and apologized, he said he has lots of grandkids who "help" him too, so he understood.

We went to another room which has pictures depicting stories from the Bible, such as Abraham and Sarah being promised a child in their old age, The boy-prophet, Samuel, being awoken by the voice of the Lord, Isaiah's vision of the birth of Christ, and a statue of Adam and Eve. Anya liked the picture of Noah preaching repentance before the flood the most. She also liked Adam and Eve. When I told her about Adam and Eve and how they are our first parents, she kept pointing to them saying, "Dad? Mama?" Also, pretty much any man in any picture who is not Jesus is apparently Daniel. For every picture she saw which included some guy in the multitude following Jesus, she would point to a man and squeal, "Dad!" Mama isn't in any pictures. Poor Mama...

We ended our adventure by attending a presentation about families. We believe that, through ordinances performed in the temple, that families can be sealed together forever, and not be permenantly seperated by death. During this presentation, I was chatting with a Sister Missionary and looked down to see my child frantically ripping her pants off before anyone could catch her. I sounded a bit crazy to this poor Fillipino sister who is still getting acquinted with English when I said, "I liked the part where...my child has taken off her pants..." After a brief, "What the crap is this white lady talking about?!" moment, she looked down to see my pantsless child crawling away as fast as she could! Everyone in the room got a pretty good laugh about that.

After I got my pantsless child back in pants, it was time to go. Seeing as how my free parking spot was located outside an apartment complex and wasn't exactly meant for tourists, I knew that if I didn't get back to the car in the two hour limit the city allows on that street, I was going to get towed. Being towed was not high on my priority list, so Anya and I hurried out of Temple Square and up the steep hill. Going up the hill taught me two things: 1) Holy crap I'm out of shape! and 2) if it weren't for the fact that I could hold onto the stroller, I would have just sprawled out on the grass next to the sidewalk and given up. Anya was so tuckered out she fell asleep on the walk back to the car!

Once we got to the car, I was overjoyed to see that someone didn't know how to parallel park and had scraped the left side of my rear bumper. What cracked me up though was the fact that the driver had not moved the car to a different spot and remained behind my car. After my inital, "I hate people" response, I looked to see how bad the damage was, which wasn't much on my old Ford, and discovered that the other person had dented their front bumper and scraped the paint off. I figured since they didn't move their car, they must not have cared too much about their bumper, and since my bumper had only suffered a cosmetic crack, it wasn't a big deal. I loaded my sleepy child into her car seat, put the stroller in the trunk, and drove home.

I loved spending that quality time with my Anya. Even if she didn't get much out of it since she's so little, we really bonded and had fun together. She loved looking at the pictures and having me tell the stories. She loved the fact that she's getting better at walking. She loved the praise and positive, calm interactions we had together. I found a deeper love and appriciation for being her mom. She really is an amazing little person with her own personality and interests. I'm thankful I got to share with her some of what we believe, even if she's too little to understand most of what I said.

Where's Jake?

There is a family that we are pretty good friends with. The husband's name is Jake, and he and his wife have a little girl the same age as our little girl.

We went to play with them last night, and since Jake works nights, he wasn't there. Anya kept asking me, "Wha Jay?" I didn't know what she was talking about, so I kept asking her to show me. She looked at a picture of Jake, pointed and excitedly said, "JAY!" She then looked at me and again asked, "Wha Jay?"

To which I responded, "Where's Jake?" She smiled and said, "JAY! Wha Jay!"

"Oh, sweetie, Jake's at work, but I am SO proud of you for using your words!"

We then went around their house together, looking for all of the pictures of Jake. Apparently her little friend's daddy is as important as her own daddy.

Cheesecake

Daniel ate a HUGE cheesecake for $100...right after eating 8 slices of pizza...Daniel threw up. Daniel has $100. Daniel has left me stunned and flabbergasted. He hasn't eaten that much food since he was in college...

My Twenty-something Birthday

After I gave up on Facebook, I stopped blogging. It wasn't that I wanted to stop blogging so much as I just...couldn't. I'd sit down, start to write, but nothing would come together. I guess I wanted to hide.

My lack of blogging goes together well with my feelings about my upcoming birthday. When I'm deeply hurt by something, I hide until I feel a little better. Soon after my dad died, I could only focus on what a blessing his death was. As I've mentioned before, his body was rapidly deteriorating and there was really no where for him to go besides down. While I was indeed hurting for the months that followed, I pushed that hurt aside. I told myself I needed to help my mom and I needed to be a big girl and be there for my family. Add that to my Stephanieism of normally not being able to cry anyway, and I was able to keep the hurt in its own little place in my mind. I told it that it was safe in that little place and didn't need to go around bugging everything else in there. However, if I've learned anything in this life it's that I often don't know what's best for me. Thankfully, my Redeemer does know what's best for me, and slowly was able to help me remove the pain from its too-small confinement and allow it to exist.

I miss my dad. People can think what they want, but I did love him. For most of my life, I idolized him. I didn't always approve of and/or enjoy some of his behaviors, but I still loved him even if I was too scared to show it. I still needed him. As much as I'm a grown-up who doesn't rely on my parents for financial support, I still need my dad. Who else would be able to help me pull the "Ultimate Prank" on certain individuals who need to be pranked in an inconvenient yet not mean way? No one else could ever wrap me up in a big bear hug like he could (even after I'd had a baby, for that matter).

One thing I always looked forward to in my life was my birthday. Daddy always made a big deal out of my birthday. Even if it was only 30 minutes of playing games with him at the arcade (wow, that made me feel a little old...) he still made a big deal out of me turning another year older. Even after I moved out, he always sent a card to wherever I was living or he and my mother and sister would come visit me. When I turned 20, he came to Provo to take us to Tucanos. (Tucanos is an AMAZING all you can eat Brazillian resturant which costs an arm and a leg but it worth the cost. If you go, make sure you're hungry! I'm not sure how big the chain of resturants is, but I know of at least one in Salt Lake as well as the one in Provo.) He told our waitress it was my birthday, and laughed as I turned beet red while the waiters and waitresses marched out singing the happy birthday song. I'm still not pleased with that opportunity to be embarrassed, but I still feel special.

Last year he sent me a thoughtful birthday card with one of my baby pictures inside. This year, he isn't in this world anymore. When people say it's the little things that are the hardest after someone dies, it's totally true. I'm going to be 23, and I'd rather not have anyone make any kind of real fuss about my birthday. It's really just another day now. Sure, Daniel's doing everything he can to be sweet and make it special (which, by the way, hasn't exactly been easy for him with his mopey, undecisive wife trying to sabatoge the whole thing), but really, without my dad, it just isn't as important as it used to be. I don't need cake or ice cream since I'm making a strong effort to eat healthy. I don't need Daniel to buy me anything since I'm in charge of the bills and I'd really just like that extra money in the bank. Overall, I've obviously turned into a very boring person when it comes to celebrations. Well, except for Halloween, Christmas, Daniel and Anya's birthdays, Arbor Day, (weird, right? I guess I like folige) Easter, Veteran's Day, Thanksgiving, Martin Luther King Jr day, and, of course, the debatably non-existant Eat-Lots-of-Ice-Cream-and-A-Burger Day which, for feminine reasons, happens about once every month. Yeah, I'm not big on holidays that focus on me like I used to. I pretend Mother's Day, half my anniversary, and my birthday don't exist. The first two because I usually forget until the day of, and the last because I really don't like the idea of making a big fuss over me since I liked my Daddy's attention best out of everyone else on my birthday.

Anyway, sorry this is such a melodramatic post, I just needed to put this information out for people to see. It's theraputic. It helps me to remember why I sometimes feel the way I do.

Behind Closed Doors

My one-year old likes having doors closed. She really likes playing by herself, so she'll go into a room, close the door, and play quietly by herself.

We usually keep the bathroom door closed since she LOVES the toilet and the drawers full of makeup and hair care supplies. One day, Anya disappeared. We looked around the house, seeing that the baby gate was up, so she couldn't go downstairs, and the sliding door was closed and locked, so she couldn't have sneaked outside. We checked every closet, nook, and cranny we could think of since she now likes to play hide-and-seek with us and finds some interesting places to hide. (I found her in Daniel's pitch-black closet in the darkest corner she could find a while before this happened. She was in there looking around and got excited when I found her. Then she crawled away to find a new hiding place. Aren't little kids supposed to be afraid of the dark?) Still, no Anya. Now we're a little frantic since it's much too quiet in the house even though we're loudly calling her name and noisily running around the house. I realized that there was one place we hadn't checked: the bathroom. Since the door was closed, we figured she was somewhere else, but when I opened the door, there she was! She was very busy studying the toilet and had no time to respond to us when we were looking for her. Apparently, Daniel, I mean, Stephanie, left the bathroom door open, she quietly snuck in and quietly closed the door so she could play interrupted. It worked, right?

She loves playing in her bedroom by herself. Yesterday, she went into her bedroom and closed the door. Daniel and I assumed she accidently locked herself in, so he went and opened the door. While he was talking to her in the doorway, she closed the door in his face...literally. Apparently Daddy wasn't being very polite by just barging in. This happened about four times in a 60 minute period. He said that each time he went in, she was sitting with a notebook and a capped pen "writing" in a journal. I have another notebook that looks the same as the one she found which I use as a journal, so she was writing too! Oh yeah, and we also found the diaper bucket which had been nearly full of dirty cloth diapers completely empty with diapers all around the bucket. I thought quick and grabbed Anya to immediately put her in the bath and Daniel got stuck picking up the diapers. Then again, he gets frustrated trying to bathe a very wiggly toddler who hates getting her head wet, so he probably thought I got the harder job. It all came together in the end, right?

Anya can easily open the baby gate no matter how tight we set it (which means the railing is starting to lift off of the floor), can point to her tummy and her head when we ask her where they are, and has entered a "DON'T TOUCH MY TOYS" phase. Wait, that last one is a bit inaccurate. I should say, "DON'T TOUCH MY TOYS OR YOUR TOYS!" On Friday, she had a playdate with a little friend who's a little bigger than she is. She was fine with him playing with her blocks and Dora The Explorer bus, but if he touched anything else, she threw very loud tantrums. She has this stuffed soccer ball which she likes to use as a pillow. Apparently it's completely off limits since when her friend picked it up, she FREAKED out and wouldn't let him play with it or any of her other toys. I gave him some of his toys that he had brought, and apparently he couldn't have those either. Anya was being such a pain that she ended up in her crib for over half the time her friend was here. Well, he and I had a fun day, anyway...

Anyway, since this post was about Anya playing behind closed doors and since she's in her room and I haven't heard her for a while, I'm going to do the good-mom thing and go check on her. Until next time!

Teething

Anya is teething. My poor baby! Her mouth hurts so much that she can't sleep well and it's hard to eat! That little tooth causing all of this has almost poked through, so she's at a point where not even baby orajel helps very much.

I could say I hate teething since it makes her so fussy and I can't get anything done. You know what, though? While it makes me sad that my poor baby is in pain, I'm so thankful for teething since it means I have her. All the fussiness, clinginess, picky eating, and endless episodes of Sesame Street means that she's here with us and she's developing well. We never thought we'd have her. Anya is beyond our expectations in a baby. We have no idea how we ever did without her, and if teething is something we get to deal with, bring it on! There are no words to describe how much I love her and how grateful I am to be her mother.

I Am

I am a mother. I'll never be paid a six-figure salary for what I do. I'll likely never be recognized for many of my efforts and accomplishments. I may be looked down upon by some members of society and deemed crazy for what I do.

I am (or soon will be) an accountant, chauffeur, hygiene specialist, caregiver, on-site nurse, manner police, housekeeper, cook, counselor, mediator, and somewhere in all of this find the time to sleep and shower. I'm often overworked and underpaid. However, with every new stage of development my current and future little ones reach, I get a sense of accomplishment. With every hug, kiss, and cuddle I receive, it's somehow worth it.

I'm also a wife to a man who far exceeds anything I had ever imagined a man could be. In that vein, I'm a friend, confidant, monkey-on-his-back at times (probably more than I should be), companion, self-esteem builder, and his devoted love.

I'm a wife and mom. I'll likely live and die without recognition from the world, perhaps just as a part of the number of people who lived and died during my lifetime. My influence will hopefully be for good throughout the future generations. Even though I will never achieve fame or riches from the path I have chosen in life, it's still worth it.

I'm a wife and mother.

Make A Difference

      Today, let's do something different. Today, let's go out of our way to do something good for someone else without expecting some kind of reward. Today, let's do something different to change the world. A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. Let's take our steps to change the world.

Thoughts On Foster Care

As we've been discussing foster care and carefully making the decision to do so, we feel that it's what's best for our family at this time. Admittedly, the idea of doing so is absolutely terrifying. We have a baby in the house. Our "parent anxiety" (aka: the superhuman power of overreacting to everything that happens to the child or what the child does. For instance, dancing around the house when she clapped her hands for the jillionth time or wanting to hold her and never put her back on the floor when she crawls without looking and bumps her head on the wall.) already makes us terrified of everything outside our home that could potentially harm her, such as malicious biting butterflies (believe me, they exist after the baby comes) or the imaginary crazy guy who's always around the corner waiting for innocent little Anya's to come his way. With foster care, some children have had unspeakably horrible things happen to them. The consequences of these events generally will be evidenced in their behavior.

The trainer for our classes said, "If you have kids at home and are going to do foster care, you'd better be scared! What kind of parent would you be if you weren't scared? However, many foster parents with kids in their homes still say it's worth it." Well, apparently we're good parents, since the thought of my baby being picked on at the park makes me sad. Being picked on by someone living with us is an idea that keeps me up at night.

There are lots of reasons not to do this. Maybe we're crazy, well, more crazy than normal, but neither Daniel or I can get around this feeling that this is the right choice. As we've prayed about this choice and how it will affect our precious, beautiful daughter, I at least have felt that if the Lord wants us to do this, He'll help provide safety and security for our baby. Daniel has felt similarly. I know that to lots of people we sound crazy to the point of irresponsibility. Be that as it may, this choice is right. It's not irresponsible. We have the power to make a difference in the world, so why not take it? It's not about the reimbursement we'd get. Frankly, any money we recieve from the state will go straight to the kids. It's about...doing what's right. It's about making a difference in our family and in the world.

Live Like You're Poor And You Never Will Be

Note, I take a very firm position of considering myself neither liberal or conservative, as I find being only one or the other would be prohibitive of my ability to research issues and decide what is correct for myself.

We look like hippies. We don't use our dryer, opting for a clothesline, we have an oldschool reel lawn mower (as in, totally manual powered; no gas or electricity for it), we cloth diaper the baby, compost organic food waste, the majority of our food is cooked from scratch, we buy flour and oatmeal in 25-50 pound bags, don't have cable or satellite, and walk/ride bikes more often than we drive. The only thing missing from the equation is "hemp." Our neighbors think we're eco-nuts, however, we can snicker at our reasoning behind our hippie-like nature.

Our family motto has been and will be, "Live like you're poor and you never will be." Our fiscally conservative nature actually aligns heavily with the environmentalist movement. All of the things I previously mentioned that we do has a financial basis before it has a moral/religious/ethic/whatever basis.

Let's look at some of these things individually, and I'll explain how these things work in our favor financially.

1) Cloth Diapers
     Yes, I cloth diaper my child. Yes, I recommend cloth diapering for a myriad of reasons, however, let's look at the cost effectiveness of them. On average, the cheap disposable diapers cost $0.20/diaper. Anya is a crazy pooper, so we easily go through 5-6 poopy diapers a day, cloth or disposable. If you count wet diapers, let's say she goes through 8 a day. In a 30 day period, we can round that to $50/month! That's only for the way cheap diapers that no one likes anyway!

2) Composting
     I know this one sounds weird, but I like to garden, and I'd rather use my own leftovers which would just go in the trash anyway than paying extra for fertilizer.

3) Clothesline
     Not using the dryer obviously saves us on our power bill. Why heat the house more during the summer with the dryer when the clothes can dry quickly outside?

4) T.V.
     By not having T.V., we're healthier since we're not couch potatoes, don't use the T.V. as much, thus saving on power, and don't have to worry about paying for a monthly subscription. We can find most everything we want to watch online, anyway.

5) Using "foot power"
     Who wants to pay for gas, anyway? Let's stick it to the gas companies by using the free power of walking and riding bikes!


By living by the "Live Like You're Poor" motto, the only debt we currently have is our mortgage, and it feels so good to not have to worry about credit card debt hanging over our heads. If Daniel were to lose his job, it would undoubtably be hard, but we wouldn't be hounded by debt collectors. My advice to you, my faithful friends, is to live WAY below your means, pay off debt, and live a happier life! People may think you're crazy, but when you have net worth and they don't, who's really crazy in the end?

Anya Marie

I just wanted to say, I LOVE MY LITTLE GIRL! My sweet, smart, wild, funny baby is one of the most entertaining people I know, and I feel so thankful to have her.

Anyaism of the night: eating a big jar of spaghetti, peas, and a bowl of oatmeal in 30 minutes without throwing up.

Anyaism of yesterday: while in a little inflatable baby floater at the pool, she started kicking her legs to splash, realized that kicking makes her move, and gleefully "swimmed" around the pool.

Small Girl

Anyone can tell that Anya is unusually small. She's turning 9 months old this week, and grew into 6-9 month outfits last week. She has virtually no baby fat, and we estimate her weight to be around 15 pounds.

Her pediatrician has always been concerned by Anya's weight. She has always been in the 0 percentile for weight, and just isn't catching up very quickly at all. Dr. Brownstein, as well as all of the other pediatricians at the clinic she works at, is also pretty baffled by Anya, since pretty much all babies who have trouble gaining weight are listless, sad, and just don't look well. All of you who know Anya know that she's a happy little firework who's always going everywhere and getting into everything! Her size aside, she looks happy and healthy. She has been hitting all of her developmental milestones beautifully (except sitting up, but that's due to a genetically inherited lack of bottom. Free cookies to the person who guesses if it's Daniel or I that passed on that trait!) and doesn't act sick at all. The strong muscles in her little body are very defined, and she eats like a horse! She, overall, is very healthy. However, I can't help but worry when I see other babies who have baby fat and realize mine doesn't.

Anya's on a pretty strict diet of baby food mixed with baby cereal and a scoop of formula at least four-5 times a day. In between these meals, she eats peanut butter sandwiches, cheerios, and gets lots of bites of whatever I'm eating. (within reason, of course. I would never give her popcorn, hot dogs, or anything that I know would make her sick or hurt her.) She easily drinks 16-20 oz of formula during the day, sleeps enough, yet in spite of all of this, is still skinny as could be.

Don't get me wrong; I'm extremely thankful for how healthy, active, and funny this girl is! Sometimes, though, I see her compared to other kids and the "mom worry" kicks in full force. With the "mom worry," my mind gets flooded with questions like, "Am I not feeding her enough? What else could I feed her? Is she sick and no one knows it?" etc. etc.

As I mentioned before, Anya's a little firework, and said firework is going to make the heavy vacuum cleaner tip over on her cute little body without Mommy intervention, so this is me signing off with a question for you, my faithful 2.3 readers: What higher calorie foods do you give/ have given your 9 month old children? We're willing to try anything!

Finding Comfort

We live in times of great sorrow at the hands of others. Evil men have been allowed to take power by the people in their respective jurisdictions, and we see the pain they cause every day on the news, and at times, in our own lives.

This has been troubling my mind, however, as I've prayed and studied the scriptures, I've taken comfort in some verses found in the Book of Mormon. In Alma, chapter 31, we learn of a dissenting group known as the Zoramites, who were led by a man named Zoram, who had turned to idolatry rather than the correct principles they had been taught by prophets of God. Alma, one of the greatest missionaries in the Book of Mormon and also a high priest of the church, takes a group with him for a missionary effort to try and bring these people back to the gospel of Christ which they had been part of.

When they get to Jershon, where the Zoramites lived, they were dumbfounded at how bad things had gotten in Jershon. One one day a week, they would, one by one, stand on a tall stage, and loudly, publicly, repeat a single, scripted prayer, thanking God for making them better than others and thanking him for sending everyone who wasn't born to them to hell. They had shunned the poor in Jershon, not allowing them to worship God at all. The poor were esteemed as dross and treated like second-class citezens. In other areas, the poor were taken care of by those who had more to spare, and all were invited to worship God.

Prior to this, Alma had worked tirelessly to teach the gospel to many people. He had seen firsthand how it had blessed the lives of the individuals who joined the church. It broke his heart to see people of his own nation and culture to have turned away from the gospel and then despise the poor of them. Before proceeding further, with what I must assume a great temptation to turn away and just go home, he prays to the Lord. The words he speaks in this prayer can apply to us who live in a world filled with so much evil:

And he lifted up his voice to heaven, and cried, saying: O, how long, O Lord, wilt thou suffer that thy servants shall dwell here below in the flesh, to behold such gross wickedness among the children of men?Behold, O God, they cry unto thee, and yet their hearts are swallowed up in their pride. Behold, O God, they cry unto thee with their mouths, while they are puffed up, even to greatness, with the vain things of the world.
Behold, O my God, their costly apparel, and their ringlets, and their bracelets, and their ornaments of gold, and all their precious things which they are ornamented with; and behold, their hearts are set upon them, and yet they cry unto thee and say—We thank thee, O God, for we are a chosen people unto thee, while others shall perish.
Yea, and they say that thou hast made it known unto them that there shall be no Christ.
O Lord God, how long wilt thou suffer that such wickedness and infidelity shall be among this people? O Lord, wilt thou give me strength, that I may abear with mine infirmities. For I am infirm, and such wickedness among this people doth pain my soul.
O Lord, my heart is exceedingly sorrowful; wilt thou comfort my soul ain Christ. O Lord, wilt thou grant unto me that I may have strength, that I may suffer with patience these bafflictions which shall come upon me, because of the iniquity of this people.
O Lord, wilt thou comfort my soul, and give unto me success, and also my fellow laborers who are with me—yea, Ammon, and Aaron, and Omner, and also Amulek and Zeezrom, and also my btwo sons—yea, even all these wilt thou comfort, O Lord. Yea, wilt thou comfort their souls in Christ.
Wilt thou grant unto them that they may have strength, that they may abear their afflictions which shall come upon them because of the iniquities of this people...Now it came to pass that when Alma had said these words, that he ^aclapped his ^bhands upon all them who were with him. And behold, as he clapped his hands upon them, they were filled with the Holy Spirit.
And after that they did separate themselves one from another, ataking no thought for themselves what they should eat, or what they should drink, or what they should put on.

And the Lord provided for them that they should hunger not, neither should they thirst; yea, and he also gave them strength, that they should suffer no manner of aafflictions, save it were swallowed up in the joy of Christ. Now this was according to the prayer of Alma; and this because he prayed in faith.


Alma chapter 31, where this is borrowed, can be found at http://lds.org/scriptures/bofm/alma/31?lang=eng


May we allow the Lord to bless us and fill us with his spirit, that we may suffer no manner of afflictions and not be heavily burdened by the evil which exists in our world. These things I say in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Lutropublicaphobia

Or, in words we would actually use, "fear of public restrooms."

I am seriously one of the unluckiest people alive when it comes to weird people in bathrooms!

When I was 7, my family went camping and we stopped for a bathroom break in a middle-of-nowhere town in Nevada. When I say middle-of-nowhere, I'm not referring to a place like Winnemucca or Battle Mountain which have gas stations and fast food resturants. No, when I say middle-of-nowhere, I mean the only place with a public bathroom was the local bar, and the town was so far away from real civilization that there was a "play area" in the bar where people could bring their kids! From the bar itself, this little play area was about 5 feet and was just a corner with toys in it! When I think "white trash" the people I met in this bar come to mind.
My dad, of course, stopped at the bar on the way to the bathroom for a beer, my mom stayed in the truck, and I proceeded to go to the ladies room. Well, here's where my lutropublicaphobia begins. The bathroom door didn't close all the way nor did it have a door handle. Now, I REALLY had to go, and I knew it was between this place and the side of the highway for me, so I made a quick decision that I would pee as quickly as I could and run as fast as my twiggy little legs could carry me! Everything was going according to plan until I realized what REALLY needing to go means. As I'm sitting on this toilet I'm terrified of touching, willing by bladder to empty itself faster, this loud, obnoxious drunk lady comes strolling toward the bathroom, (remember, the door doesn't close, so I can see this happening) THROWS the door open, and loudly asks, "Hey kid? Are you using the toilet?" Thankfully I was already on the toilet, otherwise I can almost guarentee I would have wet myself in sheer humiliation.

Now, I was taught that the polite thing to do in this instance is look away and quickly, but politely, exit the bathroom. Apparently, normal human curteousy didn't exist in this town, since instead of leaving and waiting her turn, she stares at me!

 "Kid, are you peeing?" Apparently she thought I didn't hear her the first time, since she said this much slower than before and MUCH louder! Now, nearly in tears, I nod my head, and she yells to the rest of the bar, "Hey! No one go in here! Some kid's peeing!" Then to me, "Don't worry, I'll make sure no one comes in."

Um...YOU ALREADY CAME IN YOU PSYCHO!

At some point I must have pulled my pants back up since the next thing I remember is BOLTING out of the bar and back into the truck. I was too embarassed to even tell my parents what happened, so they attributed my bad mood to being hungry or tired.


Alright, that was probably one of the most embarassing moments of my childhood, and I would NOT use a public bathroom unless it was an emergency for YEARS. In High School, I conquered this fear a bit by using the bathroom during class when I knew the bathroom was less likely to be used, however if someone else was in there before me, I would either decide to hold it or find a completely different bathroom! I know, this sounds crazy! About a week after we got married, Daniel discovered this fear, to my complete horror. (Although, looking back, it wasn't too hard to figure that one out...) Then pregnancy made me face this fear so often (Thanks, Anya. Using my bladdar as a punching bag did serve a good purpose) that now, if I have to go, I'll be the first to ask where the bathroom is.

Well, since we moved into our new house, the universe seems to have remembered my bathroom issues, and now weird things keep happening when I use public bathrooms.

Anya and I went to Smith's early one morning after taking Daniel to work, and I had to go. I got the baby, went into the bathroom with the intent of using the handicapped stall, and there's some Smith's employee in the women's room, with the stall door WIDE open, who apparently thought the men's urinals weren't good enough for him. Unlike the crazy lady at the bar in the middle of no where, I quickly left the bathroom and went home. Like I said, I had to go!

Then today, Anya and I walked to a grocery store closer to our house, and apparently I need to learn better bladder control since I had to go while we were there! The kicker for this one is I forgot to put on my glasses, and the lighting at this store isn't very good. So I find the bathrooms, but can't tell which one is for men and which is for women! I picked the one that looked like the little person was wearing a dress, go inside, and before I even get to the stalls, hear what CANNOT be a woman using the bathroom. I looked under the questionable stall, and see men's boots facing the wrong direction for this person to be a woman. I'm thinking, "Crap! Wrong room!" and Anya and I bust out as quickly as possible. I look at the sign more closely, and, sure enough, it has to be the WOMEN'S room! I checked the other sign as well, and there was no indication of a "Wo" before the "Mens." Yep, some weirdo decided HE was too good for men's urinals and decided to use the women's room here too.

Alright, I get that I'm unlucky, but men who use the women's room, STOP IT! IT'S GROSS AND IT MAY GET YOU MACED BY SOME UNLUCKY LADY WITH A SOCIAL BABY! PLEASE, please, don't let my bad luck rub off on you and use the appropriate bathrooms assigned to us based on our basic human anatomy. Thank you.

Now that the universe has rediscovered its sick pleasure in mocking me, I'll likely be posting more stories about my lack of luck.

www.ThingsStephanieLikes.gov.www/thingsStephanielikes

Yeah, I had to throw a "The Office" reference in here somehow...

On a more get-to-the-point note, you, my faithful 2.3 readers, may be happy to know some of the things I like and want to advertise a bit.

1. Tacos Daniel
     Located here in Salt Lake at like 900 North and 900 West, Tacos Daniel doesn't look like much to the untrained eye. Located in a prominiently Hispanic part of Rose Park, it's easy to miss in a shopping plaza targeted toward other Hispanics. To just turn around and go somewhere else, though, would be a BIG mistake, since this place ROCKS! The servers are friendly and like Daniel and I. (although I'm pretty sure when they see us coming, they say, "Oh, it's that weird white lady who tips well and yells at the T.V. when soccer is on." I'm not saying this would be bad, just true. I'm a bit addicted to the game and even though the game is always shown on Univision at Tacos Daniel, I can figure out what's going on and get overly excited. I just realized that I'M the one who usually suggests eating here even though all three of us love the food...) The pre-meal chips and salsa are DELICIOUS, but pale in comparison to the Burrito a la Diabla! Actually, anything "a la diabla" is worth getting made fun of by friendly Hispanics because you're yelling at their T.V. and THEN asking your husband, who speaks fluent Spanish, what the commentators and refs are saying about the game. Their Nachos Fiesta are AMAZING as well, and we somehow end up eating here about once a week. Plus, if you buy something at the Rose Park Smith's, there is always Tacos Daniel coupons on the back of the reciept.

2. I Am A Mother by Jane Clayson Johnson and The Mommy Myth by Susan J. Douglas
      I'll admit, sometimes I fell pretty insecure about being a mom. EVERYONE has a strong opinion about how to raise and care for kids, and every now and then, one of those opinions gets tossed at me when I'm not expecting it and I start to think things like, "Wait, what if taking away the plastic from the baby is actually stunting her emotional development?" or, "If I feed my baby anything that isn't green, maybe she won't have an I.Q. of 25 million!"
      Alright, so maybe these examples are a little (or a lot) on the extreme side. However, how many of you moms look at you're mothering groove and wonder if it's the right thing for everyone in the long run? If you're like me, probably a couple times a week when things are going smoothly and all the time if something like teething or, as Anya and I are struggling with right now, a normal but exhausting phase of seperation anxiety happens? With this new seperation anxiety phase we've hit, I frequently find myself wondering, "Am I holding her too much? Not enough? Does she feel loved?"
      Jane Clayson Johnson gives us comforting words about our incredible roles as "the mom." She gave her own experiences of choosing to be a stay-at-home mom instead of having her children be with nannies while she worked as a very busy journalist. Whether or not we're working moms or stay-at-home moms who can't remember the last time we actually had a conversation with another big person, I loved how she emphasized that, "every little girl knows mothers matter."
      The Mommy Myth is definitely appealing to my "stick it to the man!" personality. Douglas talks about how "The Mommy Myth," modern society's misconception of what "the best mom" should be, which gives us as real moms absolutely no room to mess up with our kids or risking the earth falling into a black hole when we don't cook fresh, organic meals with a smile on our face for these little people. If nothing else, it has so far caused me to say, "Rock on!" and laugh a little bit.

3. Money
    If I ever go back to school, I'm going to be a business major and probably end up taking over the world and ruling with an iron fist. Okay, so the fear of assination keeps me from that last one, but I love being the one in charge of our finances and finding ways to save money and make more money. For instance, quite a bit of money has been going to gas (argh) and eating out. With gas, I can't really control the price at the pump, but I can have control over how much gas we use. Anya and I have started walking to the grocery store and only getting what we need and what we can carry home. I end up saving money by realizing that my impulse purchases will turn the stroller into a shopping cart and I'll end up having to varry a very wiggly sack of potatoes in one arm. We get what we need without the car, and get good exercise and "fresh air." ("Fresh air?" Ha! We live in Salt Lake City! There's almost always smog in the air! Another reason to drive less!)
    It's my personal opinion that every woman should be at least aware of what is happening to their family's money, and should be essential to planning a budget each month. Money is something that every marriage and relationship will need to deal with on a regular basis, and men and women need to be on the same page when it comes to family finances. Daniel and I disucss our monthly budget and adjust it together. He and I both know where the money is going every month, and both commit to sticking to the budget we both approve of together.


I'll probably hit this list up more later, but for now, it's almost midnight and I have a Primary lesson to teach tomorrow. If I fall asleep during Sharing Time, somehow I don't think that I'll be setting the best example to the kids in my class.

Adoption

Since Anya was born, I've been saying, "I want to wait 2-3 years to have another baby." I've been pretty adament about this, and, in a sense, I still am. I absolutely do not want to be pregnant until AT LEAST Anya is 2. Pregnancy was hard! Add my VERY active and mischevious child to the mix, and the idea of being pregnant is kind of scary! Plus, my body doesn't like conception very much, and I'll admit, I really don't want to risk having another miscarriage right now. My dad just died. Losing a baby too would be far too much to handle. If you've experienced the pain of miscarriage, you probably know what I'm talking about on this one.

However, as I'm watching my baby become a little girl so quickly, I remember what it was like for me to be an only child for so much of my childhood. I think of my 4 bedroom house with only 2 bedrooms being used. As Daniel and I relate childhood stories with one another, I love how he always had someone to play with and fight with, as the case may have been. I also love seeing the tenderness and understanding he and his brother have toward each other even now. Although they're very different people, they obviously have a respect and loyalty to one another.

For myself, I want another child. For Anya, I want another child. However, I really am not ready to be pregnant right now.

One thing Daniel and I have looked into since before Anya was concieved is adoption. We really want to be foster parents and we'd like to adopt to add to our family. To us, it doesn't matter if we adopt a baby or an older child.

Therefore, this is me publicly stating that we need to get a few things in order to feel better about adoption, such as health insurance and starting to save up to be able to more easily pay for the adoption costs. Until then, we can benefit the lives of many children who are in foster care and whose families are working to become better parents to be able to raise these children themselves. This is something we've both felt very good about, and at least want to try.

Daddy's Girl

Anya has become quite the Daddy's girl.

She's learning to walk, and will walk all over the house if we hold her hands to help her. Around 2 p.m. every afternoon, she asks me to help her (asks as in demands loudly) walk. Every day, we go all over the house through every room. The whole time, Anya is looking around saying, "Dad. Dad? Dad." Upon not finding Daddy since he's still at work, she gets VERY sad and wants to be by herself until he comes home around 4.

Sometimes, we have to look out the living room window and watch the garage to watch and wait for Daddy. When he pulls up, she SQUEALS! Then we have to walk to the front door to meet him!

Today, Anya was playing by herself with a toy, and while playing, started saying, "Dad. Anya. Dad. Dad. Dad. Anya." ("Anya" is her other favorite word... When I asked her to say, "Mama," she looked up, realized I wasn't Dad, and crawled away.

When they play together, she giggles for him in a way I just can't make happen myself. She loves when he puts her to bed at night and whenever she learns a new trick, she makes a point of doing it in front of him to see what his response will be. I love my baby and her daddy!

Satisfied? Finally?

With all the baby announcements going around right now, I've learned something about me. I am absolutely not baby hungry. While I'm EXTREMELY happy for all of my friends and family having new babies soon, I really don't want another one right now...like...at all. This is totally crazy for me since before I had Anya, I used to get really envious of everyone who announced their pregnancies to the point of resenting them a little bit.

I've got my baby. She's everything I've ever wanted in a child. Granted, she could have less smelly poop, but that's mostly my fault for giving her certain foods anyway.


I'm busy, I'm losing weight, and the reasons for me not to have a baby are more desirable than for me to have another one. Infertility issues aside, I really like the idea of just having one baby for a while.

So...what does all of this mean for me? I think that for once, I'm actually satisfied with my life. I have a five year plan, an awesome husband, a beautiful little girl with an awesome sense of humor who is afraid of giraffes, and, yeah. Life is good right now. I'm setting realistic goals for myself, and I feel good when I accomplish them.

This is new for me. I'm happy for everyone who is having babies, and I'm also happy for me who is not. I like this feeling... :)

How I Save Money On Baby Food

I have found THE BEST way of saving money on baby food for Anya! I make it myself!

At WinCo foods, you can buy rice in bulk, and I found long-grain brown rice for $0.60/lb. I cook it, put it in the blender, and then serve it up with some pureed fruits or veggies which I also make myself.

Today, I went to Smith's and got a box of baby cereal for travelling purposes. The box itself was around $0.15-$0.20/oz. Multiply that by 16 oz, and it ends up at $1.80/lb!

The baby food I make only lasts for a day before I deem it "bad." (Can't have the little cutie getting sick!) However, I can usually predict how much Anya will eat, so I only have to make enough for one day. Anya loves it (except for peas. There is no getting that girl to like peas...) and our grocery bill has gone WAY down this week!

I'm a rockstar of a mom.

"I'm White"

Anya and I were looking in the mirror talking about colors. I was wearing a pink shirt and Anya was wearing pink pants. I said, "Anya, are we the same? We are! We're both pink!"

Daniel, in the bedroom at the time I said this, walks through the hall in his white Sunday shirt and sings, "I'm Whiiiiiiite!"

Tracy Aviary

Yesterday afternoon, we went on a family outing with just the three of us! I was SO excited to do so since we haven't been able to go out together for a month.

We decided to go out for lunch and then to the Tracy Aviary at Liberty Park. After a mediocre lunch at Beto's Mexican Food (Rancheritos is SO much better!) we went to see the birds.

After we paid and went into the aviary, we say the pelicans and ducks first. Anya, in the stroller, LOVED this part! I've never seen her big blue eyes get that big! We got there right as the birds were being fed, so we had some entertainment in seeing the ducks beat each other up in order to get to the food. Then some geese came. Then the geese and pelicans decided to beat the ducks up together.

Anyway, our stroller converts into a backpack, so you can carry the baby and have free hands. We thought she might be able to see better if we put her on Daniel's back, and that made such a big difference for my baby girl! Once she could see over the fence, she was so focused on the birds!

There were lots of South American birds. The one's we liked the best were these green and yellow things which all came as close as they could to us and started squawking at us! Anya made her, "how does THAT work?" face, which means she'll be trying to figure it out with her own noises for a while.

She also really liked the "South American Adventure." (By Anya, I'm pretty sure I mean us. It was SO cool!) This was an indoor exhibit which is kept to about 70 degrees to keep the birds comfortable.

We also watched Turkey Vultures eat their dinners, which besides totally gross, was very educational. These birds would rip the heds off of whatever animal they'd been given, and just suck out the innards.

Anya was SUCH a good girl during our outing! She didn't fuss at all! I'm so thankful for my little family and the adventures we get to share together!

Stephanie:4 Universe:20,001

I have decided to start my own property management business. I want to become licenced to do property management for other people's rental properties, however, legally I can only do one property that I do not own until I am licenced.

Here's the kicker for me: to get the licence I need, I'd be required to have 3 years of real estate experience. I've made it very clear to Daniel that I DO NOT want to be a real estate agent. Looks like the universe heard me...

Storytime

Yesterday, I went to the downtown library to get myself some books on property management. I put Anya in the stroller and we walked all over! She LOVED the glass elevators! (At the Salt Lake City main library, there are four levels of books. There is a glass wall seperating the library portion of the building from the cafe/bookstore area, and glass elevators to take you up and down the floors.) She was fascinated with the elevators going up and down, and we spent a couple of minutes on the main level watching them.

After we got my books, we went down to the children's library and got Anya some books. One about some bunnies, another about silly ducks, and you know we're LDS since I was stoked to find a "My First Church History Stories" book.

After we got home and had dinner, I put the baby in my lap and read the books to her. As a family, we read the first story in the Church History book. I'm not sure what she liked more; having both of us read and pay attention to her at the same time, or the pretty pictures in the book. With just Mommy and Anya, we read "10 Little Bunnies," and "Gossie and Gertie." After reading "Gossie and Gertie" SEVERAL times, Anya looked up at me, smiled, then surprised me! She started having me turn the pages and told ME the story in her loud, "AHH AHH AHH UMM MAH" language. It was SO cute! I love quiet time with Anya, even if it usually turns into noisy time very quickly.

:)

The Healing Power of Forgiveness

One of my goals for this week that I added to the "master list" is to find some down time to study up on the gospel. If I'm choosing to be a part of it and choosing to instill the gospel as one of my values into my daughter, I'd better be consistently trying to learn and grow in it.

Anya's down for a nap right now, so I decided to go to the lds.org website, search for a topic I want to study about, and see what comes up. Since the topic of forgiveness is on my mind, I decided to look up that. I found President James E. Faust's article called, "The Healing Power of Forgiveness." I'd really like to share some things that stand out to me.

In it, he begins by talking about the horrible Amish shooting a few years ago. Something that really impressed me was how these Amish people who had lost their daughters in such a violent way completely forgave the family of the man who had killed the girls. They attended the mans funeral services, and in turn, invited his family to the funeral services of their daughters. When money was donated to them by others who had heard about this act of violence, they shared the money with the man's family. This impressed me so much that I wish to be like them.

Let's be realistic here. I'm no where near that good. So for now, I'm going to work on forgiving and letting things go over time instead of holding on to past resentments. Forgiveness doesn't have to come right away, but it's an amazing thing when it does come over time.

He also quoted another individual who brilliantly defined what forgiveness is, “Forgiveness is freeing up and putting to better use the energy once consumed by holding grudges, harboring resentments, and nursing unhealed wounds. It is rediscovering the strengths we always had and relocating our limitless capacity to understand and accept other people and ourselves.”

I fully live by the saying that "holding a grudge is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die." Forgiveness, in my opinion, is not excusing another person's actions. Everyone needs to stand accountable for their actions. Forgiveness is purely for oneself. If I forgive someone for doing something horrible, that doesn't mean I think what they did is okay. As I forgive, I essentially disallow a person to have power over me and how I live my life.

Now, I'm going to be bold in saying that it's stupid, unhealthy, and very un-Christian to to knowingly and willingly hold a grudge. With that in mind, know that sometimes I'm stupid, unhealthy, and act very un-Christian sometimes too. I'm not placing myself on any kind of pedestal.

I do hope we can all learn how to forgive others fully, willingly, and easily. I strongly believe that if we all work harder at forgiving others, we will all be much happier as individuals, families, and as a society as a whole.

Goals for the week of 1/24/11

In combating my depression, it is VERY important for me to stick to a routine and avoid being idle at all costs. When my dad died, my routine got incredibly thrown off, my house became completely neglected, and I got so overwhelmed I didn't even want to work out anymore. (Working out, I've discovered, has become a great passion of mine. I LOVE the feeling of my body being able to do things it couldn't before, pushing myself to the next level, and the need and desire to eat right as my body realizes how starved it gets for nutrients.)

So, in order to make things easier for me, and therefore for Daniel and Anya, I'm re-establishing a daily routine. Tackling the whole house at once, by myself, with Anya wanting to play whenever she's awake, is impossible. Therefore, I'm going to start small. If I get a task list for myself every day and get the items on my list done, then even if my house still looks horrible, it's okay because I met my goals.

Here's what my master list for each day looks like:

1. Laundry (seriously, never ending...)

2. dishes (stupid dishes!)

3. P90X

4. Cook Dinner

The master list is things that ABSOLUTELY have to be done on a daily basis. (Granted, P90X and cooking are there for my own sanity. Working out is amazing, and I LOVE cooking nice meals for my family. They keep me from eating out and keep Daniel from making a quick meal...) Each day three other activities will be added to the master list, which will change on a daily basis. For instance, usually Mondays involve grocery shopping and cleaning the clutter out of the living room. Since the laundry and dishes build up over the weekend, that takes a HUGE chunk of time as well as taking Daniel to and from work on days where I need the car.

Today, my list includes:

1. Laundry (seriously, never ending)

2. Dishes

 (Which Daniel did for me over the weekend, so I only have the dishes from this mornings breakfast!)

3. P90X

4. Cook Dinner

5. Fold and put away laundry

(if I don't write this one down for today, it won't get done)

6. Scrub bathroom

7. empty trashes

8. Clean and vacuum living room

I know it doesn't look like a lot, but in getting back into my routine, this is where I'm going to start. Plus, I have a teething baby who is pretty clingy right now, so that doesn't allow me to do as much as I would like.

My Dad

Okay, I'm ready to talk just a little bit about my dad. Not too much, though, since I'm currently not on antidepressants or seeing any kind of therapist and I don't want to break apart so much that I can't be there for my family.

I'm not really sure what I should be saying or feeling right now. I'm not so sure of what I expected from myself in this situation. I mean, I'm married and I have a baby. It's not like I needed my dad like I did when I was younger. There's just so much that was left unsaid. There's so much that could have been but isn't.

In the last few days of his life, he was very drugged up to keep him comfortable. When we, Daniel, Anya, and I, would visit him in the hospice facility, Anya would look at him and get excited. She would make her "play with me!" noises and didn't understand why her grandpa wasn't holding her. They had a connection with each other. Granted, from Anya's end, the connection probably related to all of the fun "toys" Grandpa was hooked up to that she could grab. In the hospital, when he would hold her, he would bring her close to his face to give her a kiss, but Anya, seeing a grabbable face, would reach out to pull his lips. Since he couldn't speak by this point, he would gently, but firmly yank her away from his face. She loved that game! She would crack up and giggle every time this happened, which made my dad smile a bit too.

My dad was always afraid of us as babies, and I don't think he held either of his own babies until we were around 6 months old. That's not to say he didn't cuddle us. He would have us on a pillow and wrap an arm around the baby. When Anya was closer to three months old, I was talking to my mom, holding a squirmy Anya, and all of a sudden, my baby was gone! I looked up to find that he had picked her up out of my arms and was cuddling her.

Okay, I think that's all I'm going to talk about right now.

5 Months

Wow! This month has been heartbreakingly crazy! My dad died on the 15th, and since I'm not ready to talk about that just yet, I'm going to let that be.

One thing I WILL talk about is my 5 month old! CRAZY! Has it really been 5 months?

Anyway, Anya is getting smarter and funnier by the day. I would say bigger too, but she just isn't gaining weight very fast! Little wiggleworm keeps burning her calories before they make baby fat! She has started eating baby cereal, and LOVES it! She likes it best when it's mixed with either formula or some kind of baby food. If I don't pile it in fast enough, she opens her mouth as WIDE as she can and says, "eh eh eh!" As cute as that is, if I dont pick up the pace, she'll get VERY angry. Her favorite foods are applesause, pears, green beans, carrots, and baby rice. She DOES NOT like bananas or squash. In fact, if I sneak them into that cute little mouth, she'll make herself throw up to get the taste out.

She likes to talk ALL the time! She likes to talk to Mommy and Daddy, Grandma, Grandpa, her toys, her crib, her hippo (although the hippo usually gets yelled at more than chatted to) and if none of those things are around, she's happy to talk to herself. She LOVES the sound of her voice, and has started distracting herself from being fussy when she yells at us in the right pitch. At the right pitch, she forgets she's angry and has fun making that noise over and over. At church, she likes to talk to whoever is speaking in Sacrament or teaching a lesson. You may think this is cute, but when she's the only thing anyone in a 10 foot radius of her can hear and then gets mad because no one in the room is talking about her, it tends to distract from what is being said by people who can form actual words.

She loves to stand up while holding our hands (and this is when she usually speaks the loudest) and can sit up by herself until she gets distracted by something she sees (which is usually within 5 seconds of sitting up). When we put her on her tummy and put toys just out of her reach, she understands that there has to be a way to get to the toy, but usually just ends up trying to army crawl with her feet flailing in the air until she gets mad and throws her face into the floor. We're still working on cause and effect as it pertains to tantrums...

She has gotten very good at using her hands! She likes grabbing her binky out of her mouth and putting it somewhere else (usually my mouth...). If I put toys in her crib at naptime, I almost always find teeting rings around each arm and her blanket over her face. Trying to move any of these items is near impossible since she grabs the blanket at her chest and wont let me move it or her arms.

Overall, this girl keeps us laughing and wondering how we ever did without her.