Someday I'll run again . . .

I was on the treadmill for exactly 9 minutes and 23 seconds yesterday when my baby girl woke up crying. Jace was already by my side bugging me that he was still hungry (even though I'd just given him a granola bar and a twizzler), so I decided to call it quits.

This morning, I thought I'd take a different approach and loaded both kids into the double stroller. It was somewhat sunny (by crappy Washington standards), and I bundled them up pretty good, so I was feeling optimistic about the whole idea.

I should have been happy with my 9 minutes yesterday, because today we only lasted two minutes.

That's right, count 'em up: One. Two.

The wind kicked up, I could hear my baby girl sucking in her breath, and the clouds were moving. All not good in a state that has already far surpassed its average monthly rainfall. So we turned right on around and came home.

At this rate, I can expect to be back in shape sometime in 2014.

Little Miss Hallie Ann

Here she is--our little beauty. Hallie Ann (rhymes with Sally) was born on April Fool's Day at 3:22 AM. She weighed 7 lb 6 oz and was 19 inches long. We're crazy in love with her.

My friend Cassia took these photos when Hallie was 7 days old. Cassia does great work. You can see more of her photos on her website--Paper Moon Images.

39 weeks and counting

Make that 39 weeks and 2 days. Pregnant. Which is more pregnant than I have ever been. Aubrey and Lincoln were both born at 38 weeks, 6 days; and sweet Jace came right at 38 weeks.

Since I first learned I was pregnant last July, I've anticipated a mid-March delivery. I knew full well what my due date was (April 4), but there was no way I was going to go full-term. Not me. It's not how my body works. I always go early.

Surprise, surprise.

To further cloud the mystery of my still-pregnant state, my body is not showing the usual signs of being ready to boot this baby out. Our baby girl is entirely too comfy-cozy in there, despite how completely UNcomfortable I am.

I've done all kinds of stuff to try to bring on delivery. Walked, ran, jumped on my mini trampoline, eaten spicy food, eaten fresh pineapple, climbed stairs two at a time (once in the nursing tower right before my appointment), bounced on my exercise ball, and a few other unmentionables (that which was obviously a man's idea and has been perpetuated by folklore).

None of it works. I was a believer before when I actually delivered babies early, but not this time. Walgreens can keep their castor oil--I already know it wouldn't work even if I tried.

So for now I'll do the best I can to enjoy these last few days (let's hope it's only a few days). And when my sweet Hallie Ann finally decides to show her pink little face, I'll be more thrilled than ever to welcome her.

Merry Christmas

I know I haven't posted in a while. And I know I've written more than a couple of blog posts about how I'm going to do better and catch up and blah blah blah--it ain't happenin', folks. Maybe one day . . .

For now, the best I can do is stay somewhat current and maybe backtrack with an older post every once in a while. I really want to have this record for my own family, but laundry and meals and carpools and kids' activities and sometimes sheer laziness (stupid facebook!!!) get in the way.

{Incidentally, in the one minute since I started this post, Jace climbed up to the kitchen bar and was cutting his Cap'N Crunch pieces with a knife. On the bar. Ricocheting cereal all over the counter and floor. Super fun. This is my life.}

~*~*~*~*~

Today is Christmas Eve. Gavin is on IR (interventional radiology) which is the most demanding of the radiology sub-specialties. Any hospital procedure that requires imaging also requires my smarty pants, hard-working, radiologist husband. And so it is that I was planning on gym time and shopping and a pedicure all by my lonesome, and what do you know?

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.

His darn pager. A 71-year-old patient pulled out a tube and needs to be assessed, perhaps the tube has to be replaced. Gav gathers all the info, calls the staff doc, and leaves for the hospital. It could be a very long day, especially since most hospital employees aren't there. Everyone will have to be called in.

I'm trying not to feel too sorry for myself. I need to remember my blessings and think of the patient's family. Their Christmas Eve is surely more of a bummer than mine. I also have many friends whose husbands are in Afghanistan or Iraq, so I really don't have it so bad. Maybe I'll make that toffee I've been drooling over.

In the mean time, I wanted to post our Christmas card pic for this year. At 6 months pregnant, I didn't feel like sending a photo of myself, and of course my husband's schedule isn't really conducive right now to the drama that is a family photo session. Luckily I had a photo from October's apple squeeze in Steilacoom that was good of each of the kids. So I created this little beauty:


And while I'm at it, here is last year's pic. I actually never sent them out, but cleverly included it in the ones I mailed this year. Once again, no family photo, just a hodge podge of each of us:


I went with an 'ABC' theme for this year's Christmas letter. I try to do something different each year. If I can figure out how to properly upload the letter, I'll get it on here too.

For now, I need to sweep up the Cap'N Crunch.

Family Field Trip

Last week after soccer games, we took the kids to the hospital to show them a little of what Gavin does for work.

At least that's what we told them.

Enjoy!

Roma!!!!

We arrived in Rome on August 15 and boarded the cruise on the 17th. We had about 2 1/2 days to cram in the biggest and best that the Eternal City had to offer.

After Wayne, Sherra, and I made it to our hotel, we decided to rest a bit and get cleaned up, then take in a few sights. We underestimated our jet lag, because our short cat naps turned into several hours. It felt sooooo good to get some sleep! We spoke with the hotel clerk who recommended a nearby restaurant, and then it was a short walk to Trevi Fountain.


Gavin still had not arrived, but he came in sometime while we were at dinner. We walked to the fountain, threw in our obligatory coins, and enjoyed some gelato.

The Journey Begins

Me and Sherra at Stazione Termini (Rome's main train station) after nearly 18 hours of travel. Aren't I a sight for sore eyes? Loved my suitcase, but those wheels didn't last 5 minutes on the cobblestone streets.

One year ago today I flew to Rome. I figure it's about time I blog about my absolutely fantabulous-10-day Mediterranean Cruise-plus 6 more days in Italy-sans kiddos-vacation extravaganza.

In order to maximize the time Gavin had off from work (we took nearly all of his vacation days in one full swoop for this trip), I had to take the kids to Utah so he could work a few more days. We booked our flights such that we would meet up at JFK and fly to Rome together. Gavin's dad and stepmom were also joining us, but they were flying from Denver and meeting us in Rome.

Sometimes the best laid plans don't work out exactly as planned. I was flying from Salt Lake to JFK the same time Gavin was supposed to be flying from Seattle to JFK. Well, he slept through his alarm and got to the airport just a smidge late. When he checked in, they didn't bother to tell him his flight had been delayed until he got to the gate. By the time he turned all the way around to go back to ticketing and rebook, he had missed the next best flight. Of course I boarded my flight before finding out his plans, and then I was sitting in JFK while he was still in the air.

It was tricky, but I eventually figured out that he was rerouted through Salt Lake (imagine that?!?) and Paris and would arrive in Rome about 8 hours after us. Wayne and Sherra were supposed to get there only 20 minutes after I did, but their flight was also delayed. After many long hours of flying, I was alone in the Rome airport for 2-3 hours until Wayne and Sherra got there.

We had decided beforehand that if anyone was delayed more than 2 hours, they were on their own. Since I was the only one who spoke the language, I figured I'd wait a little longer and get at least three of us to the hotel. It turned out to be fine since my luggage didn't show up for at least a few hours anyway. (Aaaah, the beauty of international travel . . .)

Most major airports in the United States are pretty comfy when it comes to sitting around and waiting. Not in Rome. I was lucky to find a hard wire bench to sit on. I didn't know it yet (the cruise ship doc would confirm it later), but I had bronchitis with a horrible cough and barely any voice at all. My throat was extremely irritated, and guess what? No water fountains in the Rome airport. No little food court or kiosks either until you leave security. There were vending machines, but I didn't have any euro yet. I finally found an ATM to get cash without paying a crazy surcharge for the exchange rate and bought my first aranciata (Italian orange soda--definitely worth trying, Costco actually sells it).

You know what though? Even with the jet-lag, flight delays, missed communications with my husband, sore throat, etc.--none of this mattered because I was in Italy.

ITALY!! This was the second time I'd been back since my mission. A part of me comes alive when I return to my bella Italia. There is no other way to describe it. I feel whole.

As we were planning and anticipating this trip, Gavin and I often referred to it as the 'vacation of a lifetime.' While that is still true, it only took a few moments back on Italian soil for me to realize that there would be many, many more such vacations in our lifetime.