I may not be very good at writing on my blog, but I do check it often. I'm always wanting to check on the little baby ticker at the bottom of the page. This is partly because I can't ever remember how many weeks pregnant I am (of all the things to forget...) and partly because I just like the visual of my progress. I like to see little Virginia tootling along in her little car toward the finish line. But I always find myself thinking, can't you go any faster?! She certainly does seem to crawl along.
This week I'm going to the doctor for my 28 week checkup. That means there are only 12 weeks left. Some days that seems very long, and some days it doesn't. Lately, it's seemed short enough that I'm thinking we should have more than just an empty bassinet here waiting for her when she arrives. Maybe it's time to go out and get some baby gear, or at least have my mom mail me the stuff we left in Utah over Christmas break. Diapers, bottles, clothes and a carseat might be nice, huh? Poor baby!
Now that I'm squarely into my third trimester, I have ventured into that part of the baby books that I have thus far vigilantly ignored: labor and delivery. I was very careful only to read about baby's development this week and next, but it's time to prepare myself for birth as well. Fortunately (or not), we get to attend a childbirth and parenting class next month that will tell us everything we need to know. Apparently, they even teach you how to change a diaper. If I didn't know that I'd really be in trouble!
Well, basically the update on the pregnancy is that I'm feeling hot and huge! I know I still have a ways to go as far as the growth is concerned, but that doesn't make me feel any less giant. I have also taken to being the hottest person in every room. I always think it's sweltering when everyone else is completely comfortable. So, despite my careful planning NOT to be pregnant during the sweltering summer, it looks like my life is going to be overheated from now until May anyway.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
On my Mind
DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
Come, ye children of the Lord,
Let us sing with one accord,
Let us raise a joyful strain
To our Lord, who soon will reign
On this earth, when it shall be
Cleansed from all iniquity;
When all men from sin will cease,
And will live in love and peace.
All arrayed in spotless white,
We will dwell ’mid truth and light.
We will sing the songs of praise;
We will shout in joyous lays.
Earth shall then be cleansed from sin.
Every living thing therein
Shall in love and beauty dwell;
Then with joy each heart will swell.
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
Come, ye children of the Lord,
Let us sing with one accord,
Let us raise a joyful strain
To our Lord, who soon will reign
On this earth, when it shall be
Cleansed from all iniquity;
When all men from sin will cease,
And will live in love and peace.
All arrayed in spotless white,
We will dwell ’mid truth and light.
We will sing the songs of praise;
We will shout in joyous lays.
Earth shall then be cleansed from sin.
Every living thing therein
Shall in love and beauty dwell;
Then with joy each heart will swell.
A Bit of Levity - because I need some this week
Two bits of randomness have come into my life and made me laugh this week. So I thought I would share.
FIRST: This lovely Valentine's Day Card appeared in our mailbox from our Alma Mater.
That's the school logo in the middle and a statute on the main building in campus on top of the heart. In some ways I guess this references the celtic claddagh, or at least that's the association that comes to mind. But, what really comes to mind is: did you honestly pay someone to design that graphic? And someone else approved it and thought it was good idea? Really?
On the back it says "Happy Valentine's Day Alum-mates". I guess that because, unlike BYU, not many of our alums tend to end up together (something to do with most social interaction taking place in a drunken stupor), they want to make a big deal out of us. It's nice to know they're thinking of us anyway.
We have given this lovely card a place of honor on our mantlepiece, so we can share the joy.
SECOND: I found this the other night. It's just too funny for words. As they say, "Now everyone can have one in the oven!"
FIRST: This lovely Valentine's Day Card appeared in our mailbox from our Alma Mater.
That's the school logo in the middle and a statute on the main building in campus on top of the heart. In some ways I guess this references the celtic claddagh, or at least that's the association that comes to mind. But, what really comes to mind is: did you honestly pay someone to design that graphic? And someone else approved it and thought it was good idea? Really?
On the back it says "Happy Valentine's Day Alum-mates". I guess that because, unlike BYU, not many of our alums tend to end up together (something to do with most social interaction taking place in a drunken stupor), they want to make a big deal out of us. It's nice to know they're thinking of us anyway.
We have given this lovely card a place of honor on our mantlepiece, so we can share the joy.
SECOND: I found this the other night. It's just too funny for words. As they say, "Now everyone can have one in the oven!"
Monday, February 2, 2009
Passing Generation
Twenty years ago I lost my paternal grandfather. His wife followed ten years ago. My mom's mom died three years ago next month, and today my last grandparent has slipped away. I suppose I'm at that age where your grandparents tend to pass away, but that doesn't seem to make it any easier.
I hear about him falling down the stairs, him bleeding and his brain slumping down into the cortex and I can't quite wrap my mind around it.
I remember him happy. I remember him sleeping in his chair with an open book in front of him. I remember him singing and dancing about, absolutely loving life. I remember the big hugs and kisses. I remember him walking us out to the car and standing in the driveway until we pulled away, always. I remember the railroad stories and the war stories. I remember him surreptitiously sneaking as much bread and dessert as he could possibly get away with, diabetes notwithstanding. I remember him making warm fires in the basement. I remember him thoughtfully trying to understand my law school papers. I remember him joyfully holding the grand babies. I remember him telling us about his decision to join the church. I remember him figuring out that if each of his five kids had four kids and they each had five kids, he'd have over 100 descendants and be a pretty important person. I remember him trying to talk me into giving him more pancakes the last time we were at IHOP. I remember him sitting for hours listening to me play the piano. I remember him handing out gifts at Christmas. I remember him at the beach, rolling up his pant legs and walking into the ocean, just like General MacArthur. I remember him being so happy.
I remember him talking about grandma and how much he loved her. I remember him kissing her on the day before she died. I remember him learning to cook and cleaning the house so grandma would be happy if she ever happened to drop back in. He wanted to make it to 100, but he didn't like to be alone. I remember him standing next to grandma's casket, holding her hand and looking so lost and alone.
I am so sad, but not for Grandpa. He led a full and happy life. Nothing would make him so happy as being with Grandma again will. I am sad for us, the family he leaves behind. I am sad that my children won't get to meet him. I hope they will know him and that I can pass along all the good things that he was to them. Perhaps because I knew and loved him, he is a part of me. Whatever I do, there will always be a part of Grandpa in my heart.
I hear about him falling down the stairs, him bleeding and his brain slumping down into the cortex and I can't quite wrap my mind around it.
I remember him happy. I remember him sleeping in his chair with an open book in front of him. I remember him singing and dancing about, absolutely loving life. I remember the big hugs and kisses. I remember him walking us out to the car and standing in the driveway until we pulled away, always. I remember the railroad stories and the war stories. I remember him surreptitiously sneaking as much bread and dessert as he could possibly get away with, diabetes notwithstanding. I remember him making warm fires in the basement. I remember him thoughtfully trying to understand my law school papers. I remember him joyfully holding the grand babies. I remember him telling us about his decision to join the church. I remember him figuring out that if each of his five kids had four kids and they each had five kids, he'd have over 100 descendants and be a pretty important person. I remember him trying to talk me into giving him more pancakes the last time we were at IHOP. I remember him sitting for hours listening to me play the piano. I remember him handing out gifts at Christmas. I remember him at the beach, rolling up his pant legs and walking into the ocean, just like General MacArthur. I remember him being so happy.
I remember him talking about grandma and how much he loved her. I remember him kissing her on the day before she died. I remember him learning to cook and cleaning the house so grandma would be happy if she ever happened to drop back in. He wanted to make it to 100, but he didn't like to be alone. I remember him standing next to grandma's casket, holding her hand and looking so lost and alone.
I am so sad, but not for Grandpa. He led a full and happy life. Nothing would make him so happy as being with Grandma again will. I am sad for us, the family he leaves behind. I am sad that my children won't get to meet him. I hope they will know him and that I can pass along all the good things that he was to them. Perhaps because I knew and loved him, he is a part of me. Whatever I do, there will always be a part of Grandpa in my heart.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Mini Me
When I was younger my parents would say to me (as I think all parents must now and again), "I hope someday you have a child who is just like you!" My clever response was always, "me too! Then at last someone will understand me!" For better or worse, it looks like I'm going to get that opportunity. Last week we had a ultrasound and determined that our baby is going to be a girl! We learned a few other things about her as well....
Despite having been actively kicking away earlier in the morning, baby was sound asleep when we got to the ultrasound room. And she did not want to move. They always want me to come to the ultrasound with an uncomfortably full bladder (great for all the poking and prodding they then do). But after a few minutes of trying to get a good angle on the baby, I was ordered to empty my bladder so it might turn over. I did my part; baby didn't move. They tilted the examination table to raise my feet, then they tilted it the other way to raise my head. I lay on my back, then my side. The technician even put a large sponge under my hips for a while. No luck. The baby was not in a useful position and was not moving. For over an hour she tried to get a good look at the heart, brain, spinal cord, etc. It was more than a little challenging. At one point the technician was trying to get a picture of the baby's face, but her little arms were both right in front of her face. Then she tried to determine the gender, but baby's legs were crossed at the kneecaps. Great.
Finally, I was instructed to walk around for a few minutes and if the baby didn't cooperate, I would just have to come back. I did some walking, some gentle-ish bouncing and some rather dynamic movements. James gave the baby a pep talk. We tried again and were able to see well enough to be able to leave. And, of course, we got enough of a look to be pretty sure it's a girl. We did not, however, get anything approaching a good picture (as good as ultrasound pictures get). Oh well.
Now we know that this baby is like her mother. She's not what you would expect (in our case, a boy), she's stubborn, she does not like to be disturbed in her repose, and she doesn't want her picture taken. In fact, if everyone is going to focus on her, she'd much rather just go to sleep.
So now I'm trying to in still in her my love of music, because I'm told she can hear it. I'll probably start her on books soon too, though they're unlikely to be age appropriate at this point since I'm skeptical that she can understand them from the womb. If her mature food tastes mirror my pregnancy preferences, she will love Asian food (unlike me when I'm not pregnant), eat fresh fruit as much as possible, and avoid ice cream. Regardless of whether she turns out to be a Melanie-clone, and whether or not we truly do understand each other perfectly, I'm very excited for her arrival.
Despite having been actively kicking away earlier in the morning, baby was sound asleep when we got to the ultrasound room. And she did not want to move. They always want me to come to the ultrasound with an uncomfortably full bladder (great for all the poking and prodding they then do). But after a few minutes of trying to get a good angle on the baby, I was ordered to empty my bladder so it might turn over. I did my part; baby didn't move. They tilted the examination table to raise my feet, then they tilted it the other way to raise my head. I lay on my back, then my side. The technician even put a large sponge under my hips for a while. No luck. The baby was not in a useful position and was not moving. For over an hour she tried to get a good look at the heart, brain, spinal cord, etc. It was more than a little challenging. At one point the technician was trying to get a picture of the baby's face, but her little arms were both right in front of her face. Then she tried to determine the gender, but baby's legs were crossed at the kneecaps. Great.
Finally, I was instructed to walk around for a few minutes and if the baby didn't cooperate, I would just have to come back. I did some walking, some gentle-ish bouncing and some rather dynamic movements. James gave the baby a pep talk. We tried again and were able to see well enough to be able to leave. And, of course, we got enough of a look to be pretty sure it's a girl. We did not, however, get anything approaching a good picture (as good as ultrasound pictures get). Oh well.
Now we know that this baby is like her mother. She's not what you would expect (in our case, a boy), she's stubborn, she does not like to be disturbed in her repose, and she doesn't want her picture taken. In fact, if everyone is going to focus on her, she'd much rather just go to sleep.
So now I'm trying to in still in her my love of music, because I'm told she can hear it. I'll probably start her on books soon too, though they're unlikely to be age appropriate at this point since I'm skeptical that she can understand them from the womb. If her mature food tastes mirror my pregnancy preferences, she will love Asian food (unlike me when I'm not pregnant), eat fresh fruit as much as possible, and avoid ice cream. Regardless of whether she turns out to be a Melanie-clone, and whether or not we truly do understand each other perfectly, I'm very excited for her arrival.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Inauguration
Last week was a historic one for our nation, one which I was happy to be able to witness. I found myself reflecting back on the week of the election and the great excitement I felt then. I remember talking to James the day before the election about how excited we were that it looked like Barack Obama was going to win. I had a hard time letting myself believe it, though I was so excited at the prospect. It still seems a little surreal, for many reasons. But I am so happy for our nation. I am truly proud of America for electing Barack Obama.
I know that a lot of people disagree with Obama politically. But, I was quite saddened to see several of my friends and acquaintances wilfully avoiding all things related to the inauguration seemingly just because their candidate (or party) did not win. It is important for us as a country that a black man has become the President. It is also a huge blessing that such a transfer of power happens peacefully. Perhaps we have become too complacent if we don't realize the significance of that blessing. Because of the current state of our country, this is an important moment in the history of the nation. Whether Obama becomes one of the "greats" or not, I think someday those people will be sad they allowed disappointment, prejudice (I mean political) or bitterness keep them from celebrating America and its greatness, regardless of who is at its head. If there was ever a day to put petty politics aside, this was one of them.
I felt like the inauguration was not so much about Barack Obama as about our nation. And I think that even the most avid conservative could find something of value in the festivities, whether it is in Obama's speech, the beautiful music, or the masterful prayers. I will share a few of my favorite moments:
- Seeing so many of our nation's leaders past and present gathered together. I think Obama's words of appreciation for the sacrifice of those who have found meaning in something greater than themselves must have resonated with these people.
- The quartet that played "Simple Gifts." I think Yo Yo Ma is a consumate artist. No one could possibly enjoy his music more than he appears to. He plays for the joy of the music.
- Rev. Joseph Lowery's poetic benediction. He is a wordsmith of the highest ability.
- The fact that so many people were watching that our internet reception was completely choppy. It was nice to participate in such a grand scale event.
- The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.
- Greatness is never a given. It must be earned.
- Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.
- Our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please.
- As much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies.
- The values upon which our success depends: hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiousity, loyalty and patriotism.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
La Mia Collega
Six-and-a-half years ago, I arrived in Milano, Italia, as a brand new missionary. I was immediately sent off to the beautiful town of Bergamo along with my new companion and trainer, Sorella Wycisk. She very patiently introduced me to Italy and taught me to be a missionary. Many of my sweetest memories from my mission come from my time with Sorella Wycisk. I could tell stories about the crazy things she endured from me and the adventures we had together for hours. We got along so well that I asked to remain companions with her for three transfers (two is the norm).Since leaving Italy, I have only seen Sorella Wycisk once. Last week, we got together again. It was very fun to reminisce a little, but also to realize that we still have a great deal in common. She is one of those people with whom I think I would still be good friends even if we didn't talk to each other for ten years. What's more, she helps me to become a better person both through her example and through the always thought-provoking discussions we have. I am thankful for the technology that allows us to keep in touch despite living on opposite sides of the country (okay, I'm more in the middle now, but she's still extremely far).
I think it was with Sorella Wycisk that I began just talking about whatever I was thinking. Missionaries are spoiled in that way; there's always someone around to listen to your thoughts. And, since you cover the entire story of both your lives within the first few days, you're always up for random conversation. However, Kaija is one of very few people to whom I can still say whatever I'm thinking. Every topic is up for examination and discussion, without judgment or condemnation. She provides both a willing ear to listen and wise, caring counsel. Anne of Green Gables would definitely say that we are kindred spirits. For my part, I will just say that our relationship personifies one of my favorite quotes:
"Oh, the comfort -- the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person -- having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away."
Dinah Maria Craik
Family Gathering
I know we don't call them homecomings anymore, but my sister returned from her mission and spoke in Church last Sunday. Afterward, the family came over to the house to celebrate. The festivities included:naps for the young and old (including me)
two meals
dozens of plastic cups
hours of conversation
several card games
and plenty of shoes...
In the end, we had visitors for more than twelve hours of family fun!
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Comments
I am aware that my blog does not currently allow comments. I am not, however, certain how to fix this problem. It isn't intentional. So, I'll keep trying. And if anyone has better knowledge of such things than I do, I would be happy to receive suggestions/assistance. I guess you'll have to email me....
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