38 weeks............ Just kidding.

I almost had you, didn't I?  Well, you'd be wrong if you thought I still had two little people gestating in there.  I'd include a photo of  me today, but it's not as fun anymore, plus I haven't showered yet today.  So.

Our girls arrived on Friday the 13th, which turned out to be lucky.  Baby A, whose name is Ruby, weighed 5 lbs 7 oz; Baby B, now known as Emerson, weighed 5 lbs 2 oz.  Both were delivered happy and healthy, and they spent no time in the NICU (which I was worried about, but it never happened!).  We are feeling very blessed right now.  I'll have to write more about their arrival a little later, but it was a pretty neat experience.  I can't believe they're here or how much I love them!  I also can't believe that I had all that baby in me just 5 days ago. 

Here we all are after delivery--me and my two hooligans.

I want to post more photos, but I don't have my camera cord with me.  Soon! 

We're all doing well.  Emerson (Emmy) looks just like her daddy.  Ruby, I think, more like me.  Both have a good amount of hair, and we still don't know if they're identical or fraternal because they have the same blood type.  Maybe we'll have to find out some other way.

Oh, I just love them.

Coming soon to a theater near you...

My twin children.  Due in May.  Will probably come in April (but who knows?!).

To tell you the truth, this photo is a little old--from the beginning of October, actually.

Here are a couple updated ones.

This is baby A (on the right, he's* upside down).  He'll probably come first, since he's lower, the same one which was on the bottom in the previous photo.  You can see a little of baby B on the left there, but we didn't get any good ones with both in the same shot this last time.  *And yes, we think this one's a he.  Not 100% sure, but we think this one at least is a boy.

This is baby B.  We're not sure if this one is a boy or girl; the doctor said she thought it looked like a girl, but then changed her mind to boy.  I love this one's little hand by his/her face... looks like a little white dot, but that's a hand.  Sorry about the quality--I do have a scanner, but it's not even on the same floor of my apartment as my computer right now, so this is what you get.

The official ultrasound to find out genders is on December 12th.  We think it would be kind of fun to have one of each, but two boys (or girls) would be fantastico, too!

Best part of having twins:  ultrasounds at every doctor visit.

Worst part:  I'm pretty sure I'm going to be huge.  (But I will do it anyway.  Because I already love them.) (Side note:  I used to think, growing up, that when I got the chance to be pregnant with a child, I'd just eat a ton of cake and use it as an excuse to get REALLY FAT and eat whenever/whatever/however I wanted.  And then recently I realized all the horrors of what's wrong with that plan.)

Also, we are keeping our dogs, I don't know if I'll be working after they're born, we sold our other car and bought the subaru to accommodate all the BABIES coming up in our lives, and no, we weren't planning on twins.  (I didn't know you could "plan" on twins?)  If asked, my housband likes to say, "we were planning on the first one.  The second was just a bonus." 

I'm not offended by questions, I just get asked a lot of the same ones. 

We're excited.  Super-duper excited, you might say.

The real story, part 3.

(Do you remember this at all?  It's really delayed, but I want to finish writing it, so here it is.  The story of how my housband and I met, then got together!!  Read part 1 here, and part 2 here.)

I felt weird about him leaving on his mission...  actually, I was quite struck by how sad I was; I had a bunch of guy friends leaving on missions, and though he was the first, I can't really recall feeling that way about any of my other friends when they left.  I sincerely missed him.

I wrote him a few letters over time, and he wrote back funny and interesting letters detailing his life. I missed him a lot. I wrote a couple other friends also on missions, but none were special to me like his. I never really thought much of it, beyond the fact that I enjoyed writing him and getting letters back, though I didn't write much.

Most of his letters were typed up via email, and his mom or someone would print them out and mail them to me.  Once, though, in the fall of 2005, I received a letter from Honduras.  It had his spidery handwriting on the envelope, which I knew so well from having a class with him--I'd never seen such small and distinct handwriting, and I immediately knew it was from him.  I was so elated.  I opened up the envelope and he'd sent me a few pictures describing different places he'd been along with his letter.  He says now that he's not sure why he sent me photos, maybe because he knew I liked photography, but he never sent any to anybody besides maybe family.  They were so special to me.  I showed them to my roommates, so excited to tell them about my friend who was on his mission and how funny he was.  Getting letters from him was so exciting... I still wonder why I didn't write him more often.

Anyway, February 2007, he was scheduled to come home. I remember thinking he'd probably come home Valentine's day, and I was SO excited. I saw his brother working at this pizza place I used to go to and asked him when he would be coming home; I even had a friend call and ask when his homecoming talk in church would be. I was so nervous, I couldn't talk to his family myself.

He was delayed a few days, and in the meantime, I traveled with some of my friends to Colorado for the weekend. I'll never forget sleeping in my friend's little sister's bed, looking out the octagon shaped window at the darkened night sky, and feeling such excitement about him coming home. Everyone asked me if we were more than friends, because I couldn't help but mention him coming home, and the answer was obviously no, but I think, somewhere, I had the hope of maybe someday something happening, even if I wouldn't have admitted it at the time.

But I had no idea what he thought of me.

On the drive home from Colorado, I finally figured that he would be home by then. We stopped in Price, Utah, and after getting back on the road, my phone rang.  I didn't recognize the number, but I answered anyway.  Turns out, it was his best friend Jacob, and my housband was there with him.  A minute later, I talked to him. I was BEYOND excited. It was so fantastic. We agreed that he'd come over to my house later on that night, so as soon as I got home, I called him, then cleaned like a crazy person.

That night, he came over. I asked him if I could hug him in my dark entry way. It was awkward.  We talked, and I felt like I could barely breathe--I was that excited. He told me about eating a turtle, the crazy people he met, what it was like for two years in a foreign country. I enjoyed it so much. I was so excited to have my best friend back.

He came over the next day. I tried to pretend like I didn't care too much or that it didn't matter he chose to spend his time with me; I didn't have a particularly busy semester, so I had a lot of free time. He came over, and we watched music videos. I remember watching Regina Spector's video for "Fidelity" at least once a day--it became a pattern. He came over almost every day until he began working, mostly because it gave him something to do, but soon I think we both realized we liked spending time together.  We had both grown up, neither of us was as mean as we had been (haha!), and it was nice to have a reliable friend.

A couple weeks later, we were dating after we admitted to each other that we liked one another.

After that, we dated for a while, were engaged for a bit, then got married.

IT WAS AWESOME.

So that's how it happened. Not as fantastic as it sounds, yes? But let me tell you: it was. Everything about dating him was so great. Though I worried writing down the experience would make it feel cheap, it was so much more than what I could ever write.  When I think back to how we got together, what it was like when we dated, I just remember it as just the most fantastic thing.  He was my first and only love--and I love it that way.

It has been a dream to be married to him.  He is just the best.

The real story, part 2.

Remember this?  Yep.  Here's part 2... finally.

So, junior year passed, and with the start of my senior year, I had lunch with my best friend. I didn't have lunch with my usual group of lunch friends, so I sat with my best friend and her "weird" (or so I thought) friends that I didn't know so well.

One of whom was my housband.

He joked a lot and had big (BIG) hair. I didn't take him very seriously--I had too many experiences with teenage boys that embittered me, and because I didn't think he could be serious, I was more harsh than I should have been.

I remember very vividly days in the lunchroom, bright yellow lunch trays (which he got in trouble for "stealing" over 100 trays, though they never left school property), talking with him and other friends, laughing and joking about our future plans and college applications, things like that.

We became ok friends; that year, we went to a football game with some friends and I remember feeling a sense of security with him and those friends, like maybe we'd be friends for a while.  I felt good about the idea, and felt comfortable about hanging out with them in public. (Ok, so I was weird in high school.  Who wasn't?)  Later in the year, I wished that I could go with him to senior ball--there was a lot of drama surrounding the dance for me, dumb stuff--he went with his girlfriend at the time--and I boogied with him and his girl that night, and had SO much fun. He was very sweet to his girlfriend, and I admired that.  He held her hand in front of all of us, which is a big deal in teenager-dom, and I distinctly remember feeling a bit of jealousy about their hand-holding.

Eventually, school ended, and his relationship did, too. I saw him one or two times that summer.

That fall, we both went to school at the same University, as kids from our town tend to do since it is a college town. I was pretty overwhelmed with the whole concept of COLLEGE, but when I went to my last new class, there he was. Sitting alone. Looking ornery. I found out his e-mail address and told him via msn messenger we should sit together in Psychology. So we did, and we doodled together, laughed at our professor's weirdness, made jokes, and generally had a good time. He walked with me after every class to the bench where my sister would pick me up after her class. We'd laugh and talk, and he'd make excuses to go the direction I needed to go next.  Once, after a psychology study session, his longboard got ran over and broke in half.  Later, he told me he was thinking about something I said, which caused him to hit a crack and bail on his board... but all I got from his story was wondering what I could have said that would stick with him.  He was thinking about me?  On his own time?  That was interesting.

I kind of liked him, but I didn't want to admit it--like I said, I didn't really trust him, or most boys in general. We did things outside of class, too, like bowling and watching movies on Fridays with friends, and I grew to really enjoy my time with him.

One day, he asked me on a date, mostly because his friend needed someone to double with.  It was extremely awkward. But we ended the night at this certain park, and I doubt I've ever laughed harder.  After the date, we went to my house and he helped himself to apple juice in my fridge--perhaps the first time he ever did that.  I liked the familiarity of the gesture.  We decided that night that we were best friends. Even if we really weren't, we decided it anyway and it sort of became reality after a time. We made it some sort of ritual that we'd go to that park, sit on the lawn in the dark, and talk that fall semester.

After that semester, he prepared to leave on a two-year religious mission for our church. I knew he'd probably be going all along, but what I didn't realize was how much I'd grown attached to him and his friendship, and how much I'd miss him.

The morning he left, I went with my best friend (who is also one of his best friends) to say goodbye to him before he reached the MTC (or, Missionary Training Center) with a care package he could have, but we accidentally slept in due to staying up late the night before getting the package together.

We missed him--he'd already left.  I felt sick to my stomach that I'd missed him, because who knew where I'd be two years from then?

To be continued...

New year

I enjoy winter. I especially enjoy winter this year, because of my puppy--we have to walk him, so now my housband will go on walks with me outside. I love going on walks. I'm generally very introverted, so I work things out in my head. But on walks, it's a stream-of-consciousness conversation where we work out thoughts, plans and dreams together. It doesn't matter that I look like an old Russian lady with my hood pulled over my head and tied tight; I will always remember these times as good.

Secondly, my dog helps me sleep more normal hours. I naturally tend to stay up late and get things done. However, he and my housband prefer to go to bed earlier, and I like to go to bed with them.

I've found several blogs I really like in the last little while. I'll have to share them later. I've decided I really like people that exude goodness. People who only speak kindly of others, and are just generally pleasant. I guess a lot of people could fit that category, but I'm thinking very specifically of a couple people. I want to be more like that.

I've written before that I tend not to make resolutions for the new year, mostly because I hate disappointing myself--I find I can be really very harsh toward myself when I don't meet my own goals. However, I think I'll go for it this year. Here are my Twenty-Ten goals:

• Do better at advertising my business. Get more clients, improve my business sense, and continue improving my photography skills. Go for it this year--see what it can really do for me.

• Show more kindness to others; try harder to find the good in others, and focus on generating goodness. Don't participate in gossip or talking badly about others. It's never felt good, and it never will.

• Write more. Poetry, essays, fiction, whatever. I miss it immensely.

• Continue to downsize and remember, people are more important than things. Things just take up space. As the youngest of a bunch of kids, I've finally learned that having lots of things doesn't equate to happiness. It just means more work later when you have to go through it all.


Lastly, I have something in mind for my this year's photo project; I'll have to fill you in later. Happy Sunday!

Heyo.

So, this week, we moved.

Have I ever told you I don't adjust well to change? Well, guess what? I don't. It's been a little difficult for me, mostly because I attach feelings to things that don't have feelings, like our old apartment and food. I just threw food in there because I can hardly leave a meal without cleaning my plate due to food's feelings. It is really so bizarre.

Anyhow, our new apartment is bigger, and I really like that so far. I still feel displaced and a little like I'm on vacation, but I'm sure I'll adjust soon. I also have some other news, but I'd like to wait just a tiny bit longer until I share with you. It's good news though. (No, I'm not pregnant.)

I finally pulled out my Christmas decorations last night, so our house is a little festive. Also, I think we're getting a tree tonight, which will be good for the increase of Christmas-y feelings.

Most of all, the weirdest thing about moving, for me, is feeling sort of out of control--the place isn't as clean as I'd like it, my clothes are everywhere in the closet, and things are still in boxes. What it comes down to, I think, is that I have too much stuff... which is the story of my existence. Still, I'd like to feel that we have some order. I'm pretty sure it will come, it just might take me a bit.

Last thing: This year, along with my photo 3 project, I also made a goal to take a self-portrait in each season. This is my latest one:

Me with my mom's dogs.  I'll have to post the other three seasons here at a later time.

I hope you all have a wonderful day.

The real story, part 1.

So, I think it is only appropriate that one day after my one year blog-iversary, I'll tell you what you've been waiting for since June: our story.

Like I said then, I met my husband in middle school.

Our school was awkward, like most schools which house kids that age. I remember seeing him every once in a while--he was skinny, gangly, short hair, glasses which lightened or darkened according to how bright it was. I didn't really know him. I passed him in the halls filled with shiny, navy blue lockers and teal-and-cream wall tiles. Still, I didn't know him well, and he was friends with a boy I really liked (which, obviously, didn't work out and didn't last too long).

I remember thinking he was goofy.

Middle school is a blur of awkward experiences, bad haircuts and weird changes. High school came along, and I didn't see much of him. Our high school wasn't that big--but we had two separate lunches according to how our schedule was. I don't know that we ever had the same lunch; either that, or I just didn't notice him. (I mean, yeah, he's good looking, but you don't look at your friends or people you've known for a long time and think that about them most the time...)

So, high school flowed along and my junior year was turning out to be tough because my best friend moved away and my mom was seriously dating my-now-stepdad. I was in the same choir, different class than my husband, and we were scheduled to go on a trip to Disneyland. I almost opted not to go, as my best friend had moved and I didn't have a ton of good friends in choir, but eventually I changed my mind.

I found a random group of people to hang out with, and I had a lot of fun. I remember waiting the 5 or so seconds before California Screamin' took off, looking to my left and noticing one of my friends and my husband standing there on the boardwalk. He was watching me. I didn't think much of it, but for some reason, I've never forgotten that.

To be continued...

Thinking

I think inspiration can come from anywhere. I remember reading from my scriptures in Enos a while ago, and I felt so inspired... I felt such a fire of understanding, as though I knew exactly what Enos was writing about; I then remembered a part from a poem e.e. cummings wrote, which reads:

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

I felt so inspired, I printed it out, ripped it into a rectangle and stuck it in my scriptures. I see it all the time now, especially when I flip open my scriptures to read a bit and gain daily insight and inspiration.

I think spiritual inspiration can come from more than just scriptures or people speaking in church... I find it all over the place. Things that prove to me that God lives. Whether it's seeing a smile of pure joy on nieces' or nephews' faces, or spring after winter, or a song that makes me feel good and lifts me out of feeling bad... it comes from everywhere. I forget too often the beauty of the world around me, and all the good that's come to my life... but it's easy to remember when spring comes and the world is blue and gold, open and warm.

Last night, I was taking photos outside, and I heard birds sing. I couldn't believe it! It's almost as if I had forgotten that's a thing that actually happens. Sometimes I forget that the seasons change, and nothing lasts forever. Hard times won't stick around forever... good times won't either. I haven't worn a jacket all day in days. Life is pretty incredible if you take time to think about it. How we're here, why we're here; after thinking of that, the little things seem pretty petty. Sometimes I just need to be outside to hear the birds sing, and I feel a spark of inspiration: I'm thankful for a blue true dream of sky and leaping greenly spirits of trees. What a wonderful life.

Hello again

I'm back.

I had a lovely, lovely Friday & weekend. I made treats [peanut butter pie and cupcakes--I went a little crazy, but it was fun], cleaned my house, went swimming, bought a new dress and got a haircut. I also helped my sister get her house ready for my nephew's 1st birthday party the next day.

I took a lot of photos of him... he's so darling, I can't help it. Here are a few:

My sister has more photos on her blog that I took then too... Yeah, I took a lot. He snuggled me and was rubbing my hands on Friday night as he sat on my lap. Oh, I just love him. He has a little cut on his forehead--I think we deduced he must have scratched himself in his sleep or something.

My neighbors are still loud, and my husband is still great. I finished Roman Holiday, and I have to say that's probably my favorite Audrey Hepburn movie I've seen yet. I also watched My Fair Lady, and I was surprised to see that I know a lot of the songs from the movie. I especially loved Eliza Doolittle's dress at the ball...

I really liked the time I had to myself. Lucky [or not] for me, I get to do it again this week... sort of. My brotherman has a lot of engagements lately! He came home Saturday night, a day earlier than planned, and that was a sweet surprise. We rested on Sunday, and as per usual, Sunday night turned out to be my least favorite time of the week. I sometimes have breakdowns Sunday nights; I don't really know exactly why... perhaps it's knowing that the week will be busy and I'll be at work so much. I know it sounds weird, but home is where I'd like to be, and spending so much time elsewhere can be hard. I think I just need to toughen up. I'm working on it.

Anyway, I'm going to carry on and get through this week. It helps that it's spring, and I have something that's really making life pleasant for me--a new car! I traded up. It's wonderful to have a car that has a driver's side window that rolls up inside the frame, has automatic steering, and all the speakers work in it. I used to go for drives all the time, but lately it hasn't been that fun or calming... but I feel it coming back with this new car... plus I feel a lot safer.

It's great to listen to the new CDs I bought last Friday in my car. Yes, I still buy CDs. I prefer them to iTunes... I think it's the physical sensation of owning the CD, putting it in my car's CD player... I don't know, though. I don't have a CD player besides the car. Anyway, I'll tell you about the two CDs I bought later. If you're not too busy listening to your walkman. Or your record player.

Happy St. Patrick's day!

Our spare room...

I get really excited at the sunshine that starts coming out this time of year. I begin thinking of home improvement projects, places I'd like to spruce up and things I'd like to complete now that winter is coming to an end [which will hopefully be soon].

We have a spare room. It's full of [mostly my] junk. My housband uses the desk we have in there for schoolwork and stuff like that, which leaves me with little space to spread out or create anything, because, like I said, it's full of junk.

But I had an epiphany. Though we want to use the room for guests, if I clean it out, we can get another table/desk, and voila! I will have more space. We can even be in the same room while he does homework, and I'll work on photos or other things which strike me at the time. Plus, we could use more storage.

I am way too excited about something this seemingly small. But spring makes me feel so good inside... Maybe I should talk to him about this some time soon. I'm sure he'll be excited to get my box of photo darkroom stuff out and more space...!

Plus, I just bought a few things on amazon.com, and I am very excited. I'll have to tell you about it later! Now, I might go home and write in my journal with the fountain pen my housband bought me a while ago... it's such the best.

Ta-ta for now.

[Sorry this post isn't so exciting, but it's something, right? I think I will also buy some Martha Stewart organizational boxes. Holy cow, I just love Martha Stewart.]

I don't have much to say

But I had a good Thanksgiving weekend... did you?

It was wonderful. There's nothing like time off to help me feel more like myself.

It's interesting, though, when I think about it--how my perception of myself and what I'm like has changed, even in the last year. I don't think of myself in the same way I did a year ago. Sometimes, I feel like a stranger, even to myself. I don't fully understand how I change so often, or where I go, but I know I've changed a lot.

I was thinking the other day about my dream job. What would that be? I thought of writing and photography, or both, and I decided I don't know. Maybe it's my current state of mind--that I'm not good enough, or that I need a little break. Then I'll make a comeback.

One of my final professors wrote me a long note on the back of an essay I wrote in her class; I asked her to mail it back to me with her comments at the end of the semester. It was a nonfiction piece, something that I wasn't particularly proud of; there was a lot of work left to do on it, and I knew that. I just didn't have it in me to complete it then, and I felt horribly lost about the direction of the whole thing. She told me a lot of wonderful things, things I really needed to hear. She asked me to never stop writing... and honestly, I was really moved by the whole thing, by all the things I needed somebody to tell me; yet nobody did, except for my former professor. I fear that I've failed her in some way. My inspiration has been lacking lately. I feel kind of numb to a lot of things, and I'm not sure if it's the after shock of life changing so completely in just a matter of months. I am no longer a college student. I am an adult. I am married. All of these things, while good, are so startling when wrapped up in one little package. I don't know that I'm good at handling change. In fact, I know I'm pretty terrible at it. I'm doing my best, but sometimes I feel my best is lacking a little. I know I'll get there--I will, but I don't know when. Please be patient with me.

I had a dream I was 18 again the other night. I don't know why, particularly because 18 wasn't my greatest year, but it was so wonderful. It was a dream like a music video: I walked the streets of my neighborhood, I canoed until my canoe sank and my friends pulled me out of the water serenely. I felt so free. I wonder where it came from?

I was 17 when I first fell in love with words. I remember the way I first felt about reading something that really got to me in a way words never had before, like Jack Burden's philosophies from Robert Penn Warren's All the King's Men, and at times it's the way I feel about life: scared in the face of it, thrilled by the possibilities. But more importantly, I feel the way I used to feel when I write. I get nervous about what I'll come up with; I hang on every moment of surprise at what comes from me, unconsciously or not. I love writing.

I think I'll do it more often.

Sorry this is so long. I have more to say, but I am going to keep thinking about it.

Belated!

Sorry, I meant to post about my housband's birthday earlier, but I simply haven't had the time (or the internet around to do it). So, it was basically a really great day. Everything was perfect! While he showered, I took all the wrapped presents downstairs and told him the birthday bunny came... ha! He opened a couple presents, we ate breakfast together, and I drove him to school. Then I picked him up for lunch, and he finished opening his presents, and later, we celebrated with both families.

We had our own cake back at our apartment with trick candles at the end of the night, but I'll have to post about that later. I'm done with work, and I want to go home!

Here are some photos:

His gifts, which I thought were well-wrapped... I was so proud of them, I took pictures. I'm weird...

I even wrapped the Sobe drinks I gave to him... He thought that was funny.

I hung crepe paper from the ceiling! I got a little excited. This is our kitchen, and I like it a lot. It's a nice little apartment.

It's interesting to think it turned out so well, because I am used to things not going my way when I plan and prepare for them (such as birthdays). It seemed overwhelming to me that the day went so well... I was a little unprepared for such success. I even had a really great day! Plus, he watched election results with me, though he doesn't care for politics. I was really excited about all of it, so he was gracious and listened to everything I had to say and my excitement over the new presidency.

All in all, a great day. Makes me think I have more power on the way things turn out than I thought, especially with my luck lately.

But now I am going home. I will post more photos later!

Post 1

Hello, everybody.

This is my new blog.

I've missed writing; this is my escape.

I hope you enjoy.