Nesting

nesting [ˈnɛstɪŋ]

n

(Psychology) the tendency to arrange one's immediate surroundings, such as a work station, to create a place where one feels secure, comfortable, or in control

Nesting; I have it bad. The last post I made I already whined about how out of control busy my life is to add to that, over the last couple weeks I’ve found myself feeling this undying desire to get EVERYTHING in my house situated for the baby. The house is clean (I like to keep things pretty clean and so does my lovey) but it feels filthy to me. I’m noticing things like dusty floor boards and a semi-unorganized drawer, door knobs that, come to think of it never have been sanitized…..ridiculous nitpicky little things are driving me bonkers!! If I had even one free moment I’m sure I would be at my house with a toothbrush.

The good thing about this nesting thing is how much excitement it has brought me over the impending birth of our baby into the world. I keep taking out the different baby items we have accumulated so I can look at them. Before a couple weeks ago I thought, “what adorable little baby things these are! “ Now when I look at them I can almost see my squirmy little baby kicking around in the adorable little onsies, and tiny footie jammies or see her snuggled up like a little baby burrito in the blankies. I keep messing with her crib, folding and unfolding clothing, situating toys around the crib etc. I’m REALLY excited.

We still have a couple short months left and I can wait until she’s ready to come into the world as a chubby healthy little baby. Until then, I guess I will just have to drive my husband crazy with my obsessive compulsive cleaning and folding and preparing for a few more months….lucky him!

not the most flattering picture of me but this is the belly at 28 weeks prego!

Know Thy Limits

New life lesson learned, "know thy limits." This should be a universal commandment for all women. I think as a whole we are so stretched thin on a daily basis that it's a wonder we do what we do at all.

My own limits were made very obvious to me recently. I thought that I was superwoman, yes I can take 18 credits at school, work 25+ hours a week, be pregnant and take care of my personal life. Really it doesn't sound like much...'til you live it.

Experts suggest that to be successful in school you should study 3-4 hours per credit hour you take per week which would equal about 54-72 hrs a week of studying. So, 54 hrs of studying + 25 hrs of working+ 7hr/wk walking dog+ personal time (eating, showering etc)14 hr a week+8 hr week commuting to school/work+ 4 hrs week of church/meetings+ 1-2 hrs week preparing lessons for church+ 7 hrs week cooking(healthy food so baby is healthy)+ 2 hrs week cleaning/laundry (should be more if I wanted my house to be really nice)=122hr week of responsibilities (not including any time for leisure time activities such as time with friends or husband...poor husband) If I sleep 8 hrs a night that leaves me with 112 hrs a week to do all 122 hrs of just studying, working, walking the dog.....

It's easy to see that there are literally too few hours a day for everything that I need to do. This schedule has really begun to take a toll on me, I'm sleeping horribly, worrying all the time and nearly falling asleep driving to my destinations every day.

So the decision was made, it was hard for me to do but I put in my two weeks notice at work. I'm sad to see the place where I have worked and grown these past few years go but I have to do what's best for me and my baby. All this stress is really taking a toll on my health and my sanity. Plus completing this last semester of school is more important than finishing out a couple months of work before the baby is born. My career opportunities with a degree are exponentially greater than without it.

So I've learned that even though I hate to admit it, I am just human; and that's ok! Swiss writer Henri Frederic Amiel says "Learn to limit yourself; dare to be what you are and learn to resign with a good grace to all that you are not; and to believe in your own individuality."

I once heard life described as a plate spinning act. You know.... those performers who spin plates on top of sticks. They can't spin every plate at once; instead they run to the plate that is losing the most momentum give it a quick spin and then move on to another. Life is like this plate spin act, we can't pay exclusive attention to all the plates at once, but the good news is that we don't have to. If the performer tried to spin more than one plate at a time or stayed on just one plate all the others would come crashing down around him. He knows that to keep the plate spinning act going he has to section his time evenly between all the plates.

My decision to remove a plate was because I found that too many plates were losing momentum at a time and being only one person I couldn't handle the load. I think this decision will leave me feeling accomplished at the end of the day instead of feeling like each day's end leaves me to sweep up the broken porcelain of a hundred fallen plates. Albert Einstein said, "Once we accept our limits, we go beyond them." I hope this recognition of my limits will allow me to accomplish more than I had ever dreamed possible.

Auf Wiedersehen

So ends a great, great, great week. It all started with two of my little brothers coming to visit me and play in the Great Salt Lake Valley. We stuffed our faces with all kinds of meat from Rodizio's, kicked their bums in a couple rousing games of cranium, taught them the ways of Mario Kart addiction, went on walks, played volleyball and just basically enjoyed each other's company.

When wednesday rolled around I could hardly believe it was over and the day had arrived to take David to the MTC so that he could go be a missionary in the Frankfurt Germany mission!

Here he is looking all missionary-ish getting ready to drive to the MTC

It was defintely a bitter sweet moment before stepping out the door and even though David looked calm and collected I could sense his excitement for what was about to come.

Yo Dog! Waz UP? (Tekoa turns gangster when he puts on sunglasses)

It was a fun drive, listening to music, and eating a frosty

Then came the moment we had all been waiting for, we saw the flags from all the nations at the MTC flapping in the wind and hundreds of new missionaries flooding the doors of the MTC. We were met at the curb by a couple friendly looking MTC missionaries who helped Dave with his bags. Then, unexpectedly it was time for good-byes. Because of H1N1 scares family is not allowed in the MTC anymore to reduce exposure. I was able to snap one picture of our new missionary before a quick good-bye.

Even though two years is a long time, it's not forever so I say to Elder Jensen Auf Wiedersehen... til we meet again!

If you know David and would like to write him in the MTC 'til the end of August or in Germany after that here is the address you can reach him at....

Elder David R. Jensen

MTC mailbox # 191 GER-FRA 0823

2005 N 900 E

Provo, UT 94604-1793

Elder David R. Jensen

Germany Frankfurt Mission

Corneliusstrausse 18

60325 Frankfurt am Main

Germany

My Family....Bigger and Better Than Ever

“WOW!!!! BEAUTIFUL……AND WHITE!!!!” This is the gleeful shriek of a three-year-old that broke the silence of the Portland Temple on Saturday morning. It was my new little sister’s shriek of approval as she entered the temple with her brother Ira and sister Amber to be sealed to my Mom and Dad in the temple for time and all eternity.

We all chuckled, “the kids are here,” said the kindly looking gentlemen who would be conducting the ceremony with a smile. My heart filled with joy as I watched the little family file in; mommy, daddy, brothers and sisters. I looked into the bright faces of the three once pseudo-orphaned children as they looked in awe about their surroundings. I felt a particular flutter as I watched them squeeze the hands of their parents with little smiles on their faces and you could tell that they knew they are finally a full family and that they were home.

Amber: 9 years old

Ira: 5 years old

Kaylee: 3 years old

Note to self: Temple=most likely inappropriate time for funny face making.

still hilarious though:)

conspicuously missing one family member....guess who.

Welcome to the family Amber, Ira and Kaylee! We’re so glad to have you as an eternal part of our lives.

Say hello to my little friend (baby bump)

Yogis are Satan's Minions

I’m taking a class this semester called “stress management” it’s to fulfill an elective credit. The class is awesome, my professor is a complete hippie and as long as you show up you are guaranteed an A.

Part of managing stress is exercising, because of endorphins etc. So the professor’s genius idea was to invite her (rather annoying) friend who happens to be a yoga instructor to do an hour long yoga session with the class. Normally I am a huge fan of yoga because it’s so stretching and relaxing. But at six months pregnant I found it to be anything but relaxing.

The majority of the poses were done laying flat on your back which made it extremely difficult to breath. I had to keep flipping over to my side to gasp in a few breaths before attempting the techniques. I was boiling about being so fat can’t put my knees to my chest when the yoga instructor decides that this position is what we will do next.

Yoga instructor- “ok my little beams of sunlight, now we will open to grace with this shoulder stand” rises to shoulder stand then lowers legs to her face, she now bears a striking resemblance to a pretzel.

Me: attempts shoulder stand, blocked by baby, groans lays on floor like bump on log

Yoga instructor- walking around room stops at me, “how are you doing?”

Me-feeling embarrassed, “my baby won’t let me do that pose, so I’m just going to lay here. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem for me but I’m pregnant.” (I have a persistent need to describe to people how agile I am whilst not pregnant….I don’t know why)

Yoga Instructor- “Let me help you!” Grabs my feet yanks me to shoulder stand, “Now, open to grace my little flower.”

Me: now incapable of breathing at all turning red in the face uttering tiny raspy gasps in my attempt to breath.

Yoga Instructor- Beaming, “how are you doing?”

Me: not wanting to be a wimp, “fine”

Yoga Instructor- After holding feet for ridiculously long time then decides that she will leave me on my own and walk away.

Me: unable to support myself in that position crashes to ground causing such a raucous that the entire room turns to stare.

I should point out that it is now about 9:00pm, all I really want is to get in my jammies and snuggle in for the night. Instead I endure another half hour of beaming sunshine, and grace and various types of flowers that she feels the need to call us whilst inflicting the worst kind of torture possible on me.

Now I understand why most yoga gyms offer “prenatal” yoga classes. I’m sure they don’t ask those women to balance on their heads or lay on their stomachs and bend like pretzels. Until I experience an adaptive class fit for my “condition” I am now completely convinced that yogi’s are the driving force of Satan’s minions, they are pure evil.

Predator

There are a few times in your life when you are most susceptible to predatory marketing. Since I am still young I have run across three times when I feel that people really try hard to sell you things that you don’t need. (there are quite possibly more than this)

Encounter number one, graduation. Whether this is from high school or college marketers gather together to capitalize off of your hard work. You find yourself buying things that you never thought you needed but now wonder how you would ever live without. Marketers say buy this $80 frame to commemorate all of your hard work, and this keychain, and this “collector’s” tassel, and these overpriced announcements. If you are not careful you will end up spending more on graduation than you did on Christmas. Yikes!

Encounter number two, wedding. One image I can’t get out of my mind is the donkey faced (really, his face very closely resembled a donkey, the oversized dentures contributed to this) diamond salesmen, stalking around the counter feeding Kevin (who was a valet and struggling actor at the time) lines about how this would be the MOST important purchase of his life, and he better make it big because women only care about huge diamonds and not the men they are about to marry...right? ( Yucky sexist attitude!!!) What? You can’t really afford a 10karat marquis cut diamond? No problem we have FINANCING! And real men finance big rings they can't afford because they love their fiances so much. Though this talk ruffled my lovey's feathers a little he didn't fall for it. My ring is not 10karats but it’s beautiful and I love it! And the best part is, it is completely paid off.

After you make it past the purchase of diamond ring don’t be lulled into a false sense of security. The predation is far from over. Stop by a wedding show and you will meet vendor after vendor marketing you things you never thought you would need, but suddenly want/need very badly. Don’t fall for it! The wedding is NOT worth going into massive debt for. Sure you've been dreaming of this moment your whole life but it is after all just one moment in the big story that will be the rest of your lives together. Besides the details aren’t what make a wedding beautiful; the commitment to your spouse is what REALLY matters. And just think, that beauty is so often lost in all the bellyaching over whether or not the table linens you picked perfectly match the Gerber daisy centerpiece, and hissy fits on the wedding day because flower arrangements differ slightly from what you thought they would be, not worth it! Fortunately we were able to dodge that bullet and left the ceremony and reception with no outstanding debts.

Encounter number three, birth of child. I was AMAZED at the list of “necessary” items I was told I needed for my baby. I found myself wondering how cave infants ever survived. I soon learned that you don’t NEED special blankets for swaddling, rectangular ones work just fine for that too, if you take time to learn. Some of my more experienced and wiser friends and family assured me that infants need surprisingly little when they are first born. So we have spent time and money trying to focus on what we need and just a few of the extras.

This task of weeding through what is and is not needed was VERY difficult, but I believe I have narrowed down the list to a reasonable size. So I have FINALLY registered, YAY! I will admit not everything on the registry is necessary. I included some things that I think will just be nice amenities to have, like a wipe warmer.

If you would like to check it out we are registered at Babies r Us (http://www.babiesrus.com) go to “find registry” then type in our last name, first name, city and state (Murray, UT) and it should pop it right up. You can also stop by your local Babies r Us and ask at customer service and they should be able to help you bring up a copy of our registry.

So beware of those who stalk around the happy moments of our life, like lions in the grass of the Savannah they’re just waiting to jump in for the kill.

Things that go bump in the night

Have you ever allowed someone to tell you a scary story and though you’re an adult and logically know there is no such thing as monsters, when you shut off the lights and go to bed every last corner of your house seems to have something like this lurking around.

See, this is scary. What could it be? Probably a half faced ghost with blood soaked fangs, but you can't tell because it's dark.

Well that’s what my night was like last night. Some friends got off talking about scary things during our ride home from Chili's and by the time we got home we were all so unnerved that one couple (who conveniently live just across the hall from us) came over to our house for a little Wii Mario Party instead of going straight home, to lighten the mood. This helped immensely and when I went to bed I was in incredibly light spirits and thought, huh I guess I've overcome my wimpiness.

While Mario Party helped sleep come quickly initially it did not prevent me from waking up drenched in sweat with my heart racing like I had just broken the world record in the 400m sprint, repeatedly through the night. Some of that adrenaline must have gone straight to baby because she was bouncing around in my belly with a ferocity I have never before experienced. By 4:40am I had enough of pretending to sleep and so I got up to read, write in my journal and watch a movie in the living room... with every light on.

Movie selection when I am terrified is a very delicate process, the movie needs to lighten my mood yet be innocent enough to invite those warm fuzzies into my home. After perusing my selection I decided that nothing is warmer and fuzzier than Santa (except Jesus, but we didn’t have any movies about him), so I watched “Miracle on 34^th Street” and FINALLY got some sleep.

The moral of the story is that I have not overcome my wimpiness at all. I am still absolutely incapable of dealing with anything dark at all. So I stand by my previous conclusion that all scary movies, haunted houses, and personal stories of encounters with the “other world” are things that I should avoid at all costs. In the future if necessary I will resort to the childish, yet effective method of jamming my fingers in my ears while “la, la, la’ing” while such things go on around me. I know, I’m not normal at all…

24 Weeks???

When life gets busy something bizarre happens to me. I lose track of all time. Before I went back into school I vigilantly tracked my pregnancy, I could tell you to the week and day how far along I was.

A requirement of pregnancy seems to be sharing your brain with unborn baby. (Maybe a better description is, it’s like having your brain hijacked by said infant because sharing sounds voluntary and pleasant, which it is not) I say this because lately I feel about as sharp as a sack of wet mice. The once seemingly simple task of tracking classes and what to do has become so complex to me that it has taken over my mind, there’s no room in there for any other information.

Such as, did I take my pre-natal vitamin this morning, or did I call that place that Kevin politely reminds me to every single day. I’m not intentionally being dull it just happened, things aren’t sticking well. Fortunately I’ve devised a way around my forgetfulness. I’ve resorted to carrying around a pen and paper with a list of necessary items and tasks for the day and keeping checklists around the house, I’ve always been a list maker but usually the lists were a way for me to feel that I could organize things on paper and then store the info in my brain. It’s strange being totally dependent on a piece of paper; it’s become an addendum to my brain.

The point is, in this chaos I have completely lost track of how pregnant I actually am. My sense of time is skewed so suddenly (in my mind) I was sailing through the weeks. Just yesterday I was thinking, “I’ve got to be getting close to 30 weeks!” When I did the calculations I am actually only 24 weeks along.

Hey, 24 weeks is great! But when you are starting to feel uncomfortable, back aches, frequent potty trips, mild swelling, and overheating when the temp gets anywhere above 71 degrees it’s a bit disheartening to lose weeks, even if they never existed in the first place.

The good news is I love being a mommy. I’ve been trying to drink in every last moment thinking things like, I should write down what times of day she’s most active so that I can tell her when she’s old enough to understand (like something like that will be interesting to her) We spend the nights before I fall asleep giving my belly little pokes to which her response is to rush to the spot and poke back. I call it the poking game and it makes me smile, these are our first interactions with the little girl. As much as the amazing human body fascinated me before it has exponentially increased my fascination. The birth of every child really is a MIRACLE. And it’s an honor to get to be such an important part of it.

It’s fun to see Kevin getting excited too, he has little talks with her about how she needs to keep kicking mommy because he wants her to be shooting free-throws by the time she’s 30 minutes old. He also likes to play her Billy Packer’s version of, “One Shining Moment.” and the Notre Dame fight song.  I think she will come out a little irish fan because she dances up a storm in belly when we play it for her.

So this little baby becomes an even bigger part of our lives already. And if it takes a few months of forgetfulness and some less than welcome changes to my body I say bring it on, because it’s already been worth it!

The Perfect Storm

This weekend can only be described one way, the perfect storm. It was a perfect mix of fun and work.

Saturday we were able to run a bunch of errands for baby. We got her crib set up, cleaned house, and found homes for her growing pile of things.

Then Kevin was able to go let off some steam watching the UFC fights while I stayed home, did some homework (comparative physiology eat my dust!) then unwound with the Disney movie Ratatouille some crepes and more bow making.

Sunday, we spent at church then off for a game of tennis with some friends. I may be pregnant and little less agile but that doesn't mean I can't play! Then back home for a quick nap and then some volleyball and we rounded off the evening with cookies and games at our house.

Monday was a trip to the zoo and picnic with friends. I have to say the penguins are my favorite, they're hilarious. One penguin was standing on the edge of the rock face outside of the water while another waited behind him and apparently he took too long to jump him because the one behind him belly bumped him right into the water then jumped in himself....silly penguins!

The weather was amazing so Tekoa's twice daily walks were pleasant instead of a chore. It amazes me how refreshing a weekend at home can be. I'm ready to get back to work.....starting with class 'til 10pm tonight.