survivor.

Shhh...

Listen...

Can you hear it?

Every time I walk out of the house I hear Destiny's Child - Survivor.

 It's my crocuses.  In fact, I think that tall one is Beyonce.

See, they have this thing with the rabbits.  

Or rather, the rabbits have a thing for them.

Because this is what my crocuses usually look like:

Not cool.  

So, sing on, little crocuses, sing on.

Crocus Update - April 6:  those little singers - didn't survive.

36.

36 down, 4 to go.

Four to go???

Overall, 36 weeks have flown by, day to day - not so much.  I know I haven't posted much about this pregnancy (okay, so I've posted one and a half times about it) - but it's been a little crazy. 

The first 20 weeks were spent huddled over the kitchen sink, disposal on, water running, puke flowing and Hazel clinging to my leg (occasionally mimicking me - nice).  Just put that image on repeat 10 times a day, Zofran doesn't touch it, the next unmentionable drug just made it worse and finally the third "remedy" was borderline miracle, and helped with the nausea, a little.

(Yes, 36 weeks - still throwing up, just not quite as often).

Miserable?  Yes.  Worth it?  Totally.

Did I mention the Bishop decided to call me as Primary President around 8 weeks?  I wanted to throw up in his office.

No.  Really.  I looked for a garbage can.

The majority of the second trimester was spent traveling.  Everywhere.  Two trips to Utah, California, North Carolina, family coming to us.

Insanity.

February arrived and things calmed down.

Well, maybe if I'd stop coming up with these "great ideas" for the house.

I don't believe it's "nesting", more just a knowledge of how much I won't be able to do with a newborn, we have been scrambling to finish up some projects around the house.

Big projects.  Little projects. 

Did I mention the headaches?  Oh, curse the headache!  That was about a month ago.  16 days in a row, like clockwork.  I'd wake up in the morning, feel a bit of a tension headache, by 8am I felt like my brain would pop out of my temples, by 10 am I wanted to die and was curled up in the fetal position (on days Hazel would allow it) and by noon I was nothing but a puddle of tears.  Then around 3pm they would disappear, only to repeat exactly the next morning.

No explanation from the doctors.  Rude.

Well, finally the reality of pregnancy is hitting.  A week or two ago I passed my "pre-pregnancy" weight, so I'm officially gaining now.  (I've been gaining for a while, I just lost a bit in the beginning).  My left leg looks like a vein-y, nasty, roadmap and as if I didn't give this baby enough extra flesh to grow in, he has decided to add a few "marks" of his own on my stomach.  I'm pretty sure he has his arms and legs stretched out, taking up as much room as possible, he enjoys poking my hip bone and right side.

It tickles.

My comfort with all the "awesome" body changes?  I can still shave my legs, paint my toes and my feet aren't puffy.  Just don't show up unannounced, I am probably rockin' a midriff shirt as my pants and shirt don't always meet in the middle.

Thanks.

Four weeks: finish baby quilt, set up crib, paint dresser, finish all of the half-finished projects sitting around the house, build shelves, make growth charts, buy itty-bitty diapers, ignore everyone that tells me I'm going to go early with this baby (3 days early = great, 3 weeks early = punch me).  Also, ignore those numb nuts who tell me how they almost didn't make it to the hospital in time (mine is 40 minutes away, although Seth made it there a LOT faster with Hazel).

I'm pretty sure there must be some way I can prep for nursing - attach chip clips at midnight?  (Don't ask).

Ah.  Yes.

Please know that I do actually enjoy being pregnant, and that I will totally enjoy every minute of the next four weeks.

camera.cleanup

The camera card needed a little cleaning.  

Apparently, so did our bedroom.  Now if only I could get Hazel to push the real vacuum!

(Instead of huddling in the corner, with fear in her eyes)

Hazel is determined to pick out a name for baby.  

(Since we don't have one yet)

She thinks the baby name book makes for good lunchtime reading.

Saturdays with Dad = awesome walks, new discoveries and sweet outfits 

(ps- among other things, her dress is on backwards).

 Next trick: teaching Hazel to close her eyes when she plays with this toy.

 If I won't play the piano daily, Hazel will take matters into her own hands.

And no, we're not seriously going here...yet.

Although she does great at actually going #2 in the toilet.

sunday.afternoons

Sometimes all you need is an afternoon at Grandma and Grandpa's.

 Innocent daffodil, may or may not have been crushed soon after this picture.

 Big hugs for Amos.

 Excuse me?  I found something.

 It's not my fault Mom and Dad put me in white capris, they should have known I'd play in the woods.

 

Grandpa Shumway

It's Seth, you don't here much from me because when Geri writes, people enjoy reading it.  When I write...not so much.

Yesterday we lost Grandpa Shumway.

He was a great man. When my time on this world is over if one of my loved ones were to say I was half the man Grandpa Shumway was, I will have lived a great life. He overcame challenges that would bring a normal man to his knees, and fall into despair. Grandpa stood up and married his love, and raised and supported a family of 8 kids. But, as I stated at the start of this post, I am not good with the written word so I will end with the way I am better at expressing myself, with my photographs.

Grandpa and Hazel

Grandpa, thank you for your legacy.

daddy's.girl

She idolizes her daddy.  

Whether or not he realizes it, she is watching everything he does.  

This morning Hazel had just woken up, and yes, she'd already asked for Daddy twenty times.  I was in the middle of changing her diaper and explaining that Daddy would be home after naptime, when I had to stop.  I quickly put Hazel on the ground (with half her jammies on, and her nekkid little bum "airing" out) and rushed to the bathroom.  I got the lid up just in time for the vomit to flow.  

Too much information?  Whoops.  

As I huddled over my nemesis, I caught Hazel out of the corner of my eye, cautiously moving towards me.  I expected her to stand at the doorway, but she kept coming until she was standing next to me.  Then, just as her Dad does every day, she put her little hand on my back and started to rub my back while I heaved, hoed and spewed.  Once I finished, she handed me a piece of toilet paper (she must have known there were oatmeal entrails in my nose) and then wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tight.  

I wanted to cry. 

I can't think of a better person for Hazel to look to as an example.  Each time she does something that reminds me of Seth, my heart feels like it will burst.

swimming lessons with daddy have been the highlight of her week - she loves the pool, just like daddy.

Two Years

30 pounds (86%)

34.5 inches (69%)