Seven Whole Months and a Confused Mother Trying to Balance Her Life

Summer was born seven months ago today. I'm amazed how fast these months are going. I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see her monthly posts so close together.

I know these monthly posts are so unoriginal, but I feel like I really need to do them because this is as close as I get to a baby book. I have to do something to remember her when she's little and all her milestones.

And speaking of milestones, Summer finally crawled. Not really, though. She did one crawl-step and then plopped down on her tummy again. She has her army crawl down and she goes really fast when she does it. Plus she's been rocking on her hands and knees for over a month now, so it's about time she just give it up and crawl like all the other babies are doing. Wow, look at what a great mom I am, encouraging my child to hop on a bandwagon. Summer won't have any issues, I'm sure.

She loves to get under the exersaucer, and because she's too young to understand when I'm laughing at her I get a good endorphin boost when she tries to get out.

Clearly, Summer gets her amazing muscle tone from her dad:


These were taken a couple of weeks ago.



Okay, Summer, can you get out?


Okay, arms out. Now try the legs!


Hey, little one, you have to use your right arm.


Nice.

And these were taken today. I know this is a ton of exersaucer pics, a plethora really, but I just find my baby adorable, and I know there are grandmothers looking at this blog who love to look at this girl's mug almost as much as I do.





Mmmm, I swear she's usually wearing pants.

I have conflicting feelings about being a mother. I really don't feel like I'm very good at it. I enjoy my life, but sometimes I feel like Summer just tags along with me while I go about my business. I always planned on being a very proactive, involved mom, even when my kids were really young. And I was, to a fault, until it drove me crazy and my life collapsed around me and Nathaniel told me that Summer really didn't need all the attention I was giving her. I think now I've gone into the other extreme.

I just don't know how to keep the house clean and feed my family and work and do the little hobbies I want to do and have a relationship with my husband and be a good friend and good member of the church and be a good sister/daughter and take care of a baby. When I look at the list, I think something's got go give, but there's nothing I want to let go. I remember a lesson by a former bishop who asked us to draw a little pie chart and put in it all of the different commitments we have. In that chart, we were to put how well we thought we were doing in each area.

Bishop Klein said, "You're never going to have 10s in every one of these areas. In fact, you probably shouldn't. If you have an eight in every one, you're doing amazing. Most are going to be fives or sixes." Or something like that.

That's pretty much what I had. I went from feeling like a failure to feeling like I was doing okay.

Now, I feel like a failure. I just look around me and it seems like everyone is able to do so much more than I do. I really think they're just more efficient with their time. Just now, it took me four hours to make dinner and that doesn't include washing the dishes. It's so hard for me because I can't keep my focus on something with a baby in the background, so I constantly have to re-group and remember what the crap I was going to do with the frozen vegetables and knife that are sitting on the counter.

So how do you do it?

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Tiger Woods and High School Proms: a post so awesome it needs no pictures

Apparently, the National Enquirer “reported” that Tiger Woods was having an affair with someone. Woods calls these statements malicious rumors, or something like that. Other “news” outlets picked up on that and one went so far as to suggest that Woods go public about his affairs a la Letterman.

Woods might be having an affair. I don’t know. I probably know as much about the whole situation as the goober who reported on it from the National Enquirer.

We all have a hunch that the National Enquirer is full of crap. Except me. I know. Here’s how.

Back in 2000 (remember that year?), Christina Aguilera came to my prom. I was a junior, it was my first year at the school, and I was on the high school newspaper staff. All of this meant I would be attending the prom date-less, covering it for the school newspaper and some other local papers.

I snapped some pictures and got an autograph. The event was a bust. You can read my rather pathetic article in the Augusta Chronicle here . There’s also a picture of what I looked like back then, if you need a good laugh.

A few days later, the advisor for the school newspaper called. A woman showed up at the school on a Saturday, looking for pictures of the event. She said she did freelance for the New York Times, the Chicago Tribune, USA Today, etc. I told her no problem. (Stupid!! I probably could have bought a gym membership with the money I got from those pictures.)

A week or so later, an article about the event appeared in the National Enquirer, accompanied with my pictures (grr!). Here is an excerpt:

"Christina was rude, crude, selfish and disrespectful," Bebe Bala, who helped out at the "Prom of Your Life" told the ENQUIRER. Dorothy Hatch, a Greenbrier High School junior who covered the prom for the Augusta Chronicle, reported, "It could not have been the prom of Colin's life..(He) was in the back most of the time, mostly standing by himself!" Continued Bebe, "It was clear that the prom was the last place Christina wanted to be. While getting ready, she kept hissing: 'I can't believe I'm going through with this! I can't go out there!'--Christina and her road manager had a huge fight over whether she'd do two or three songs. And she gave strict orders--"If the DJ plays a Britney Spears song, I'm out of here!" She was so busy complaining, she was 45 minutes late to the stage. A prom guest fumed, "After her ridiculously short performance, Christina was ushered to an interview area to meet with Colin. He gave Christina a rose, but she barely remembered this poor guy was supposed to be her prom date. She said, 'Oh you're the kid who won the contest', handed him one of her CD's and moved on. Her whole visit amounted to two quick songs and a cloud of dust!" Concluded Bebe: "Christina may be a big star, but she's a real zero in Augusta!"

I’m pretty sure I didn’t say those things. Okay, it’s possible. The poor guy did stand in the back most of the time. But Bebe Bala? He/she/it does not exist. Whoever wrote this article totally made up a source. And Ms. Aguilera wasn’t late because she was throwing a fit. She was late because she had the flu. Really. I found out later from her mother that she threw up in between the two songs. Poor girl.

So the National (every time I write that I accidentally write “Nathaniel” first) Enquirer wrote this completely bogus story, which got picked up by other bogus sources. An excerpt from “Christina Aguilera: A Star is Made: An Unauthorized Biography:”

Dorothy Hatch a writer for the high school newspaper claimed, “Colin [the contest winner] gave her a rose and said something like “Oh, you’re the kid who won the contest’ and gave him and his friend a CD and that was it.” [sic]

Lies!

What can we learn from this? Pop stars do not belong at high school proms. Amen.

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Thankful Friday Night - A Cheeseball of a Post

Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward in the same direction. - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's "Le Petit Prince"

My best friend from elementary school, Kami, is organizing a bloggy thingy wherein a bunch of bloggers, for the month of November, make a list of five things they’re thankful for every Thursday. I’m late. And because I am loquacious and I don’t want this post to be a gazillion words long, I’m just writing about my first point of gratitude: Nathaniel.

Growing up, I didn’t think I would get married. My parents are divorced, so marriage didn’t seem like the norm. When I saw myself older, I saw myself in business professional with a large paycheck and a great apartment. A husband? Not so much. When I entered BYU, I thought I might get married, but that marriage would be a huge trial and would require constant effort to make it work.

I never would have imagined that at age 26 I would be in the best relationship I could want.

When Nathaniel and I were talking about getting married, I knew marriage was a huge leap of faith because I couldn't completely control the outcome. But Nathaniel didn't hide a thing and I knew I could trust him. I knew I wouldn’t be making a mistake if I married him.

I assumed that the easy stage couldn’t last forever. I kept waiting for it to wear off. I told Nathaniel, “I wonder when marriage will start getting hard?” Nathaniel said, “Don’t think like that. That’s like assuming the greenie magic has to wear off. It doesn’t.” And it hasn’t. I feel like I just stumbled onto the best marriage I could possibly have.

Things are different now than when we were dating. I don’t get butterflies in my stomach every time he walks into the room. He hardly ever puts on the aftershave that I love. I don’t make an effort to be as witty or as put-together like I did then. We don’t talk incessantly about how much we love each other and how great our relationship is (but I don’t think we ever did that, I hope).

Things aren’t the same, but they are really better. Sure, butterflies can be fun, but nothing is better than being in a relationship with a person who is interesting, who knows you and truly loves you, who understands and empathizes, who encourages you to fulfill your goals AND who loves your child almost as much as you love her. That is our marriage.

For this I am grateful. Happy Thanksgiving.

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Hi, my name is Dorothy and I am an internet addict

So something like this happened to me the day before yesterday:

48-Hour Internet Outage Plunges Nation Into Productivity

BOSTON—An Internet worm that disabled networks across the U.S. Monday and Tuesday temporarily thrust the nation into its most severe maelstrom of productivity since 1992.

"In all my years, I've never seen anything like this," said Price Stern Sloan system administrator Andrew Walton, whose effort to restore web service to his company's network was repeatedly hampered by employees busily working at their computers. "The local-access network is functioning, so people can transfer work projects to one another, but there's no e-mail, no eBay, no flaminglips.com. It's pretty much every office worker's worst nightmare."

According to Samuel Kessler, senior director at Symantec, which makes the popular Norton Antivirus software, the Internet "basically collapsed" Monday at 8:34 a.m. EST

Shortly after office workers found their web, e-mail, and instant-messaging capabilities disabled, reports of torrential productivity began to reach corporate offices nationwide.

"My first thought was 'My God, this has to be some kind of mistake,'" said Prudential Insurance executive vice-president Shane Mullins of San Francisco. "My e-mail wasn't working. Nerve.com wasn't working. I eventually found out that the company web site wasn't working, either. But by that time, my inbox was filling up like you wouldn't believe."

Enlarge Image

The Internet outage forced a Minneapolis couple to tackle a task they'd put off for months.

"My actual physical inbox," Mullins added. "It's this gray plastic thing on my desktop—the top of the desk I sit at."

With workers denied access to ESPN.com, Salon, Fark.com, and Friendster, employers struggled to keep up with the sudden increase in efficiency.

"Our office was working at roughly 95 percent efficiency," said Steven Glover, an advertising executive and creative team leader at Rae Jaynes Houser. "It's problematic to have the rate jump like that—it sets a precedent that will be impossible to maintain once the Internet comes back."

Glover said his department failed to reach 100 percent productivity only because employees stopped work every few minutes throughout the outage to see if Internet service had been restored.

"This is terrible," said Miami resident Ron Lewison, an employee at Gladstone Finance and an Amazon.com Top 500 Reviewer. "For two days, I've been denied access to the vital information I need to go about my workday. In the absence of that information, I've been forced to go about my job."

According to Labor Department statistics, companies affected by the Internet outage generated an estimated $4 to $6 billion in extra revenue.

"Losses to online retail companies will be considerable, " said Jae Miles, senior financial economist at Banc One Capital Markets in Chicago. "Nevertheless, the outage's overall impact on the national economy will be a positive one. The losses should be easily offset by the gains to companies that depend primarily on people finishing actual work."

As of press time, many administrators had begun to apply a patch that combats the Gibe-F worm.

"Thank God, Earthlink service is back, and with it, online shopping and entertainment news," office worker Emily Jaynes said at 7 p.m. Tuesday. "I'm ready to head home now. I couldn't bear to spend another evening repainting furniture and using my pool."

Financial experts say they hope to have detailed data on the economic impact of the outage within the next 24 hours.

"When American office workers are denied access to vast, complex streams of ever-fluctuating and evolving information, they tend to get a lot done," said Nicole Dansby, a business-information analyst employed by the New York Stock Exchange. "The extended Internet outage may or may not have had something to do with the Dow's 278-point jump Tuesday. I'll have to, you know, check the web for a few hours and get back to you."

I realized I was addicted to the internet and I made Nathaniel disconnect it. I got so much done. So now it's back and here I am, blogging. I might have to have him take it again.

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Discouragement and Inspiration

Do you ever have those moments when you know you should just do something, but it seem so hard and you don't know where to start, so you don't do it?

I know I need to be better. I need to take the focus of my life off myself and make Christ the center of my existence. I know I need to learn to be like Him.

But how? How do you delve into a task that seems impossible and that you don't fully understand? I don't know.

So I don't think about it much. I allow myself be content with doing just enough and let the distractions take me away from uncomfortable thoughts of my shortcomings.

Then I got the conference Ensign and read this:

"My dear brothers and sisters, don't get discouraged if you stumble at times. Don't feel downcast or despair if you don't feel worthy to be a disciple of Christ at all times. The first step to walking in righteousness is simply to try...Try and keep on trying until that which seems difficult becomes possible-and that which seems only possible becomes habit and a real part of you."

I love my church.

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Homemaking

I haven't been getting many hours at work because, well, I don't really know why. So I've been doing other stuff. It's been fun.

When I was in high school and college, I thought "homemaking" meant getting together with a bunch of old ladies and making crap like this:


I am proud to say that I always hated that aesthetic. I am not proud to say, however, that I got my ideas about interior design from a Baby Sitter's Club book. Remember the one where Kristi's mom marries a rich guy? You hire an interior designer, look through some books, pick out what you want, and then you're done. I'm also not proud to say that all my ideas about fashion came from the Baby Sitter's Club books, too, but that's another post entirely.

Sadly, I'm not joking about that.

Anyway, on my recent trip to Hawaii, my aunt Cynthia (technically Nathaniel's aunt but I claim her) gave me an entirely new perspective on the whole thing. Before, I threw random framed art on the wall and I was happy with our model home furniture. I figured I would just wait until I or Nathaniel started making some money and then buy a model room from Ikea or even hire an interior designer.

And then Cynthia came along. We flipped through some interior design magazine clippings she had in a binder and she encouraged me to find which ones I liked and figure out why I liked them. Later, she gave me a link to a design blog (design sponge) and I am hooked. One of the best things I read since I've been looking at this stuff--which has only been about a month now--is that too many people worry about whether or not stuff goes together. It's better to just find things you love and surround yourself with them.

I looked at pictures of beautiful rooms adorned with beautiful collections of plates, leaves, random artwork, etc. I asked myself what I love most and would want around me, and my thoughts went to my family.

Okay, before I show you what I did, a disclaimer is in order: I am not a decorator of any sort. I am not posting this because I recommend you do the same, but because it represents my discovery of a way I can make my life better and I'm excited about it. All right? All right.


I did this:



That picture makes it look so bad I want to laugh at it! I promise, if you came over you'd like it. It might not be your thing, but you'd like it.

As for me, I love it. The photos I picked out are my absolute favorites and I love the way the frames are very deep so it gives some interest to the wall. Or whatever.

It's not much, I know that. And it makes me wish we had a white slipcover for our couch. But still, I love that I figured out what I liked and went for it.

The whole idea of decorating is still intimidating for me. I always considered it as something that other people did or were good at. But I'm so glad Cynthia encouraged me to be okay with failure. I really do want this little Wymount apartment to be a place where I feel good and that I love, and I'm working on it. And, I'm so glad that the term homemaking doesn't necessarily conjure images of strange creatures with raffia anymore.


Yikes.

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Externship and Six Month Stats

Nathaniel is amazing. I'm sorry, I know e-bragging is kind of gross, but he is. He is an incredibly hard worker and has a knack for legal reasoning. He impressed his legal writing teacher so much that her glowing recommendation got him a slot as a clerk for a judge here:



at the US Court of Federal Claims in Washington D.C. The court hears claims against the governent arising under the US Constitution, federal statutes, etc. It's an Article I court for my friends who took federal courts. Nathaniel won't get paid, but gets six hours of school credit, which is awesome because then he can take fewer credits later on.

Ugh, have you ever tried to write a blog post after you ate half a stick of butter? It's a lot harder than it sounds. I was just experimenting and made apple butter crisp and it's very hard for me to be moderate when it comes to butter.

Summer had her six month appointment yesterday. She is in the fiftieth percentiles for weight and head circumference and the tenth percentile for height. I just looked it up and I'm in the twentieth percentile for height, so I don't have high hopes for Summer.

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Six Months

Today, Summer is half a year old.

Summer was a very beautiful newborn. Six months ago, when I saw bigger babies, I didn't think they were nearly as beautiful and little and fragile as our brand new Summer. I wanted to cherish the moments when she was like that because I knew they wouldn't last long.

They didn't, and thank goodness. I didn't know then that newborns suck. After the first week, they just scream and poop. They can't even hold their heads up or smile or look at you. I didn't realize at the time how hard things were. I think I liked it, but why I liked it I don't know. How I ever got through those first months is a mystery.

Actually, I lied. Nathaniel got me through those first months.

Six months, however, is amazing. Summer has been smiling all the time lately. She creeps/army crawls to get to her toys, her favorite being daddy's old laptop. She doesn't laugh all the time, but when she does it's the best thing in the world. She has moved from just eating stuff to eating it, then giving it a few shakes, then eating it again. She gets so excited about just about anything. It's so fun taking care of her.

And the best thing is that I think she likes me back. It's just pure joy. That's all. This is mushy. I'm sorry.

Oh, and she's helping me figure out how to hang pictures.


Hey, Summer!



What's your favorite frame?



That one? Mine, too.


And, Nathaniel got an internship (unpaid) in Washington DC. Cool, huh?

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If you ask me to lunch and I refuse, this is why...

Our society is too materialistic, and I am definitely a part of that society. I spend way too much time thinking of things that I want, as though they would make me happy. And they wouldn't.

For instance, having these would not make me happy:



But I can't help but want them. I don't think I've ever been so excited about a product in my life. They are copies of the Penguin Classics bound in fabric. The designs on the fabric correlate to some theme or motiff in each book. Here is an interview with the designer. I'm so impressed by how much thought went into choosing the designs and the colors, and I think they are absolutely beautiful. The collection includes some of my favorite books like like Emma, Pride and Prejudice, Cranford (yes!), Little Women, Madame Bovary, Great Expectations, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and Crime and Punishment. I eventually want even those titles that aren't my favorites (the Oddessy, Wuthering Heights) and those I have yet to read (Oliver Twist, Tess of the D'Ubervilles, Lady Chatterly's Lover(!)). So I'm saving up. Sure, I may only have one pair of jeans that fit and I don't have a winter coat, but who cares when there are awesome books to be bought?

It's okay to want stuff, as long as we don't set our hearts on them. Right? Plus, I'll pass them on to my children, and my children's children, and my chidren's children's children... Actually, my children are too young to be having children. (If you don't know where that's from, ask me and I will introduce you to something that will greatly increase your quality of life.)

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I Saw Nie Nie

Well, sort of. Yesterday, As I was walking into Michaels to pick up some picture hanging thingies, out of the corner of my eye, I saw this coat:



(I stole this picture off her blog. I hope she doesn't get mad at me.)

Pathetically, I knew exactly who the owner was. It was Stephanie Nielson, of the Nie Nie Dialogues. I started reading her blog last fall, when her plane crash was all over the news (New York Times, Today Show, etc.). Some people might hate her blog; I'm sure the creator of Seriously So Blessed has looked to her blog for some satire-worthy material. She is always dressed to the nines, she loves vintage looks, her blog has a very low word to picture ratio, and, in her heart of hearts, Nie Nie loves being a mother. I think people love her blog because she has a knack for glamorizing the life of a stay-at-home mom, and what stay-at-home mom doesn't need a little of that every once in a while? Oh, and I really like her photography.

Anyway, I sort of always hoped to run into her and get the chance to tell her blog inspires me to be a good mother. But when I saw her plaid coat and her little red-headed daughter march to the custom framing counter, I knew I wouldn't talk to her. What was I going to do? Randomly walk up to the framing counter and ask questions I didn't need the answers to? Make a complete fool out of myself so I could say that I'd talked to Nie Nie? So I got my picture hangy thingies and walked to the check-out.

So that's the story. Below are my ramblings. Feel free to skip.

As I was standing in line, carrying Summer, I looked at all the other people around me in the busy store. All of them, I realized, were really just as special as Stephanie Nielson. I wished I was one of those people who had the guts/skills to start conversations with people in line (Nathaniel is probably very glad I don't, however). Before I could think of a way to brighten someone's day, it was my turn to buy my item.

Once, when I was standing in line at our local grocery store in Evans, Georgia, the checker, a young black woman, started singing. I was embarrassed for her, especially because the next person in line was a wealthy-looking old white man. The man, in his slow southern drawl, just smiled and asked, "You singin'? You've got a mighty pretty voice." She smiled back as she scanned his groceries and said, "Thank you," and then resumed singing.

Why aren't Utahns like that? Why am I not like that?

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Our Story, Part Six

Nathaniel has all our wedding pics on his computer, so this is a picture of us from Summer's baby blessing. It's the closest thing we have to a family picture.


It was late. Nathaniel and I had spent a couple of hours together that day, but I wanted more time. I was conflicted. I liked him. We had been spending more and more time together and it just kept getting better. Nathaniel was fun. And smart. And attractive. And best of all, he was genuine. He had nothing to hide.

I'm reminded of his reaction when I introduced him to Silk Chocolate Soymilk. He took one look at the carton and said he couldn’t imagine buying it. Referring to the plug on the carton for alternative energy solutions, he asked, “Do we really want windmills everywhere?”

I guess I loved that he disagreed with me.

At the same time, I kept dating other guys. I didn’t know when I would feel comfortable getting into a relationship, but exclusivity four months after I broke off an engagement seemed wrong. Plus, as I said before, dating other guys was fun.

I could tell, though, that my reluctance was now more about what others thought than my desire to spend time with other guys. The more time I spent with them, the better Nathaniel looked.

I realize that all this talk about exclusivity sounds sort of silly, like something from the Sweet Valley Twins series about “going steady.” But it was so important to me to make sure that I didn’t make yet another mistake in yet another relationship. My disastrous engagement had truly broken my heart and I just didn’t think that I had the wherewithal to handle something like that again. I was so sure that I had found the man of my dreams. And I was so wrong.

Nathaniel was an amazing person. Perhaps amazing enough to risk another broken heart. But so soon? Probably not.

I stared at myself in the mirror, brushing my teeth to get ready for bed. Only I didn’t want to go to bed. I wanted just a little more time with him. That wasn’t so bad, right? But I also didn’t want to look too forward. Besides making myself look like an overenthusiastic fool, asking him to get out of bed so we could hang out might be leading him on should I back out later. I put my toothbrush back in its holder.

"Oh, who cares?” I muttered to myself. I pulled out my phone and texted:

“Do you want a back rub?”

After a few very long seconds passed, he texted back.

“No. Do you?”

I offered him a freaking backrub and he said no? He clearly didn’t want to hang out. I replied:

“Yes.”

I waited. He didn’t text back. He thought I was too forward. Too needy. Didn’t have a life of my own so I had to leech from his. Oh well, it was probably for the best, anyway.

“K. Come to my apt.”

Oh, thank goodness.

I put my flip flops back on and walked out the front door, being careful to shut it softly behind me. I didn’t let myself think as I walked over to his place. I just let my feet carry me to Apartment 206. And before I let myself think again, we were on campus by the testing center, laying on some blankets in the dark, talking.

“I have a song that reminds me of you and I want to play it for you,” Nathaniel said.

“Let’s hear it!” Inside, I was completely giddy. I loved romantic songs. They say everything you don’t have the guts to say yourself. What did Nathaniel want to say to me?

It started:

Jamie, what you doing now?
What you doing now girl?
Please, please tell me
Cause I need to know, I need to know now.

“That’s not the part that reminds me of you,” Nathaniel said rapidly and then resumed singing at the top of his lungs.

When I was down, you came to me
And promised you'd always be
By my side, now you're gone
And I'm waiting patiently
Jamie, I want you to know
Jamie, oh Jamie, I'm so glad you're mine
We'll be together a long time

“It’s not that part either.”

You are the most, you're so rad, you're so fresh
And I'm so glad I am yours, you are mine
Show me where and I will sign
When I was down, you came to me.

“It’s coming, I promise.”

Jamie, believe me, I won't let you down
Cause you are the best lawyer in town.

“That’s the part!”

Incredulous, I asked, “That’s what reminded you of me?”

“Yep. That’s it.”

So, that was Nathaniel’s romantic song dedication. I was so let down.

We looked at the two stars that could be seen through the branches and talked in Romanian and Russian, figuring out what words are the same in the two languages. I didn’t care what we talked about, as long as I was with him. Suddenly, Nathaniel paused and said, “I kind of want to kiss you.”

Kissing = exclusivity. I was not ready.

“Well, we don’t always get everything we want.”

The minute I said those words, I regretted them. It was at that moment that I really wanted him to kiss me. I didn’t let myself think about what kissing would mean, I just wanted it to happen. I hoped he wouldn’t pack up the blankets and head back to the Elms. I hoped I’d get a second chance.

Nathaniel resumed chatting. At some point, he mentioned he wished he played guitar.

“Really? Why?”

“Because girls like it.” Wow. Talk about honesty.

I thought for a minute and said, “Okay, here’s my take on it. Sure, it’s cool if a guy can play the guitar. So if a guy plays the guitar, that’s plus, say, two points. But if a guy is genuine and is just himself, that’s, like, plus twenty points. I’d much rather a guy who’s not the guitar-playing type just avoid the guitar than try to impress me with it.”

The whole time I was saying this, I pictured Nathaniel strumming a guitar in the hope of winning a girl over. That image still makes me smile.

“So do you think I’m genuine?”

“Totally.” I had to be honest.

“Sweet.”

We talked some more. Somehow, we wound up kissing. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, only that it fit in so perfectly, almost as though it was part of the conversation. And the kiss? It was great.

Do you really want details? I didn’t think so.

As we walked back down to the Elms, something about the harshness of the lights in the stairwell made me realize how dumb I had been. I wasn’t totally sure I wanted to be in a relationship, and I just kissed Nathaniel multiple times. So much for self control. I am not a nail biter, but I bit my nails constantly to make sure that Nathaniel couldn’t grab my hand. Hand holding in public would mean real exclusivity.

The next day, we went to Centerville to go to a friend’s birthday party. After we parked, Nathaniel confidently grabbed my hand.

“Your hand feels so good in mine,” he said. I just smiled as we walked toward the party, holding hands. We were together. And I was okay with that.

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I'll Probably Regret This Someday

Ever since Summer was about two and a half months old, she has put stuff in her mouth. It's a cool trick, but for a while now I've been looking forward to the time when she would do something else with the stuff she grabs. This morning, she was playing with a pen and starting banging it against her Bumbo. Because I couldn't leave well enough alone, I gave her this.


And a wooden spoon.


And she made noise.



It was pretty cool.

And because I just can't resist:

Spoon: WalMart
Onesie: Hand-me-down from my mom's friend
Pot: Deseret Industries
Bumbo: On loan from Jackie
Coffee Table: Anthropologie. Just kidding. It's from DI.

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Early Morning

Right now it's 6:31 in the morning. It's dark outside and I'm trying to distract myself from Summer's wails. She's been making cute, tempting noises for about fifteen minutes. I am trying to stick to the latest baby sleep book I read, so I'm not going to go get her for another twenty-six minutes. It's hard.

Nathaniel is already gone for the day. We are a lot alike, but in some ways we are polar opposites. You would never have caught me at school that early, unless I'd spent the night. For Nathaniel, leaving before the sun rises is the norm.

So I sit here, awake, left with just my thoughts. They always go to Summer. Every day I think that I want to go back to the time before she was born. I want to nap and shop and earn money freely. And every day, as soon as those thoughts start forming in my mind, Summer coaxes me back into reality with her giggle, her smiles, her dimples, her latest skill, her coos. She does it with her angelic face when she's sleeping and her fascination with everything from the light switch to Nathaniel's nose. She reminds me how much I love my life with the way her eyes look when she looks up and every time she insists on lying on her tummy in the bathtub.

So thanks, Summer. I love you.

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What Happened to This Blog?

I got a job. That's what happened to this blog. The past couple of weeks I've been busier and I thought I didn't have time to blog. But tonight I remembered that I want Summer to have tons of pictures of herself when she was a baby, and I don't take them unless I'm blogging. So I'm going to start again.

She's asleep so the pictures will have to wait, but I do want to share this quotation from C. S. Lewis:

[God] has infinite attention to spare for each one of us. He does not have to deal with us in the mass. You are as much alone with Him as if you were the only being He had ever created.

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FHE and the Early Renaissance

I don’t want to type the phrase, “I love General Conference.” If you know me at all, it doesn’t really say anything. What Mormon, when the topic of General Conference comes up, says, “Eh. I could take it or leave it?” * Really, pretty much every Mormon loves it when a ton of old people in suits with a collective zillion years of wisdom get on TV and tell you exactly what you need to hear. But only the self-righteous blog about it.

Just kidding. But it sure looks that way, doesn’t it?

So I won’t say, “I love General Conference.” Instead, I’ll say that because of General Conference, I was reminded once again that God knows me and loves me. I’ll say that I know everything I knew before, only with greater conviction and security. I’ll say that the words of God’s servants on Earth give me hope, peace, inspiration, and motivation.

Another great perk of General Conference is that Family Home Evening for the next little while is a piece of cake. I’m always so eager to digest the words that I heard during those eight (well, ten) hours and to hear what others thought of them, and Family Home Evening is the perfect time to do that. **

I think I’ve been reading too many Mormon Mommy Blogs. This is kind of an embarrassing post. I am just reading the last phrase of the previous paragraph and cringing. But I’m really excited about our new way of doing FHE. Please, don’t laugh. Okay, fine, laugh, but don’t do it around me.

But first, after reading this article, I had some questions about parenting. Elder Oak’s talk and Elder Christopherson’s talk answered those questions for me perfectly. Now I have more questions, but it’s a step in the right direction and I’m very grateful for that.

Okay, so FHE.

I loved my undergraduate education. I loved the fact that the only thing I really had to do was learn. I didn’t worry too much about getting an education to make money; I knew I would take care of that later. Undergraduate education, for me, was a time to explore the world and its history.

My favorite classes were English linguistics classes, followed by the classes for my major: English literature. I loved, and still love, really getting into a complex text and taking something from it. I love the ideas of literary criticism: What is a text? What is history? What is real? What is art? What is the dynamic between the critic, the artist, and a piece of art? What does it mean to be human? I am getting all excited just typing these questions.

Yes, I know I’m a freak.

My third favorite class (followed very closely by calculus) was a history of western civilization through the humanities class. I always wanted to branch out from literature and learn more about music and painting and sculpture and whatnot, so Humanities was the perfect way to do that. It was such a good class and I loved every minute of the time I put into it.

But that was six years ago. I really don’t remember much, and what a shame. I have been listening to the classical music radio station lately and I have completely forgotten how to really listen to a piece of music. I had the same experience on a recent trip to the Museum of Art on BYU’s campus.

I wanted to go back to my Humanities class. I want to remember more about Bach and hear his struggles and triumphs. I wanted to know why I can’t forget the Pre-Raphaelite paintings I studied. I wanted to understand what Jasper Johns was trying to communicate and, in so doing, find my own meaning of that art. I wanted to connect with the residents of the past on an emotional level.

I loved the textbook I used for the humanities: it digests a lot of material very well and, most importantly, gives art some context. It’s not perfect because any academic subject is too complex for an anthology, but it’s a great introduction. The thing is, the textbooks for humanities classes are insanely expensive because of the fancy paper they use to showcase the art. But that’s only if you get a current edition.

I bought an old edition of Cultures and Values on half.com for about eight bucks, including shipping (the list price for the current edition is $150). And now, our family home evening activity is going to come from this book.

Tonight’s FHE went like this (sorta):

We listened to Dieter F. Uchtdorf's talk from the Prieshood session.

It was Nathaniel’s choice, and while he was interested in the encouragement to work, I loved all the encouragement about learning.

Then we read about this:

(Adoration of the Magi by Gentile da Fabriano, 1423)

And this, painted five years later:

(The Holy Trinity by Massaccio, c. 1428)

Wasn’t the Renaissance amazing? Can you imagine living in a world where all art, though perhaps beautiful, was flat and two dimensional? And then can you imagine looking at a masterful painting of Jesus Christ and feeling for the first time that the art was an extension of your reality? That, in a way, the Savior was part of your reality?

Probably not because that picture is way too small. But trust me, it's cool.

We had grapes for dessert. I think I might actually start looking forward to FHE.

*Someone help me – where does the question mark go in that sentence? Noelle?

**Aunt Kathy – in case you don’t know (but you probably do) FHE is a thing that we’re encouraged to do where we get together as a family and have some sort of spiritual lesson and then an activity like playing a board game. It’s cooler than I make it sound.

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Nathaniel is a Bum

I found my camera!

Where was it? Put away. I swear I looked there.

Yesterday, Summer turned five months old, which means that it’s been over five months since I’ve had a haircut. Nathaniel has a week-long break next week. Hopefully, I will get a haircut soon. But until then, I’m not the girl who is in desperate need of a haircut. I’m the girl with a signature long ponytail. If you’ve seen me lately, you know what I’m talking about.

But I digress. Summer. My baby. My sweet, sweet, daughter.

She eats. I wasn’t going to give her any food until she was six months old, for fear of allergies. But then, at her four-month appointment, the pediatrician basically said, “Go for it!” He said no dairy, nuts, citrus, or uncooked honey, but other than that, he suggested we just mash up whatever we eat and give it to her. Later that day, as I was eating the sweetest, juiciest, cold cantaloupe I’d eaten in a long time, I looked into her big, curious, eyes looking up at me. How could I resist? I took a tiny piece and mashed it in my hands and offered it to her. Of course, like any four-month old, she was elated at the prospect of stuffing something in her mouth. She didn’t look too sure about the new taste at first, which is understandable seeing as how before she’d only had breast milk, formula, plastic bags, clothing, diapers, wooden mixing spoons, etc. in her mouth before that. But she chewed (!), swallowed (!), and went for more. In the past month, she’s eaten apples, pears, peas, zucchini, carrots, peaches, grapes, pasta, beans, and her favorite: lentil soup. She hasn’t eaten solids every day, and usually only a finger full, but she’ll be a great eater soon. I’m sure.

She drinks too.

She rolls. One day, a few weeks ago, Summer just went from her back to her tummy, and she’s done it regularly since then. She is intensely curious about everything and if you’re holding her and she sees something she wants in her mouth, she’ll get it. She throws all fifteen pounds of her weight around very forcefully. Her rolling abilities come in very handy for satisfying her curiosity. Especially if I’m changing her diaper.

She smiles, laughs, giggles, and squeals. A lot. But I never get on camera, of course.

I wonder what it’s like to be five months old. I’m sure frustrating; I see that emotion in Summer’s face every time there’s a toy just out of her reach. It’s got to be confusing as well; I would hate it if I tried to get outside but was constantly thwarted by a window. But the newness of the world, the never-ending supply of textures, sounds, tastes, and sensations to fuel curiosity – that’s got to be pretty great. And having two parents who love her and would do anything for her? I bet Summer thinks life is pretty cool.

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The News

So I can't find my camera. It's probably hiding behind the couch along with my keys watching me as I frantically search for them. They probably had a good laugh when they saw me freak out about how I couldn't find the Bumbo only to locate it hours later behind the bathroom door. Judging by the fact that a roll of packing tape recently suprised me by popping out from a huge bag of vegetables in the freezer, I'm not holding out hope of finding our camera any time soon. I hope Summer doesn't grow too much before it decides to out itself.

So, the picture-less news. The title of this post makes me want to rant out the real-life news, and how it ticks me off that journalists are willing to scare the living daylights out of the population so they can make a buck, but I'll leave that post for later, if ever. Here, you'll be finding the real-life news of our little world.

So, I might have a job. But there is an equal chance I might not. I have a legal assignment that might lead to something steady and it has reminded me that I actually like doing legal work! So that whole law school thing might have been a good idea.

The law school thing was definately a good idea for Nathaniel. He loves it and he grasps everything well. I'm amazed. I wish he could take the bar for me.

I got my child addicted to sugar. Until today, Summer would not take her pacifier without a bit of sugar on the end. I know, I shouldn't have done it as much as I did, if at all, but holy crap this girl WILL NOT SLEEP. Yesterday, she slept for nine hours at night and then an hour during the day. I'm really okay with that as long as she's healthy, and I think it's healthy for her to sleep a bit more. Luckily, today, after a fervent prayer, I stuck a recently-washed pacifier into her mouth and she took it! So now, Summer will only take a pacifier that has water on it. Weird, but better than sugar.

Summer is freaking cute. Here's an old pic.


It really doesn't to her justice because she's way cuter now. Have you ever seen a kid who is learning to sit up by propping herself on her fists lift up her head and smile at you? If not, you're missing out. Come over and I'll show you.

Squeamish guys should not read this paragraph! I had to buy tampons today. TMI probably, but I feel like I warned you so it's fair. Yeah, tampons. WTF? Summer is less than five months old and I am still nursing every three hours during the day! I turned a few heads when I plunked a box of 36 supers into my shopping cart and yelled "crap," but I think they would have understood if they knew how much I had counted on a lot more time tampon-free.

I love my friends. I don't keep in contact with them as much as I should, but I think about them often and they make me happy. For example, I don't know what I would do without my long talks with Crystal. Crystal and I were in the same ward in Georgia when we were in high school. She is great because she's really smart, she has an amazing perspective on life, and she appreciates crass humor. And when I say smart, I mean really really really smart. If she and the chair of the philosophy department were to talk philosophers, Crystal would totally hold her own. A while ago (three years ago?) Crystal and her husband were stopped at a red light when a teenage girl hit them head on. The accident gave Crystal chronic back pain and since then a major portion her life has been dedicated to managing it. All her plans for more education, a career, and children have been put on hold. Indefinitely. Despite her struggles, our most recent phone conversation focused on who? Me. She helped me see my situation in life as a mother a truly special one and made me see that my view that worth was somehow contingent on a career as flawed. I have been truly happy being a mother and I don't know if I could have done it without Crystal's words of wisdom. Friends are awesome.

The End.

Yeah, that whole "read more..." thing. A lie. If you click on it, you won't read more.

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Hope

I love this. I don't love that the size proves once and for all that I am a blogging retard, but I do love the video.

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Our Sweet Little Baby Boy

First Carrots!

Isn't he adorable?

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Fancy Pants Snack Recipe

If it weren’t for the fact that I’m putting pressure on myself to make money, I would be extremely content with life. Which is to say that right now, I’m very content. I don’t really feel like I do anything during the day that sounds particularly exciting, but I always go to bed mostly satisfied with my day and excited for the next to start.

Today, for instance, I brought Nathaniel a snack while he studied at school. Honestly, how lame does that sound? If I read that on someone else’s blog before this year, I would assume she’s the oppressed housewife who slaves away cooking and cleaning and changing diapers while her husband gets to expand his mind with the exciting study of the law.

However, bringing Nathaniel that snack was the best part of my great day.

As I drove home from Costco (I’m addicted to those uncooked tortillas you get there; I can’t help it), I called Nathaniel to plan out our evening together and I mentioned that if he got hungry, I’d bring him something. He jumped on the offer immediately.

While Summer was napping, I looked around for something to get him and felt completely uninspired. We had lots of random stuff, and ingredients for good meals, but nothing quick and snack-like. Maybe I’d just bring him a can of green beans.

When I opened the freezer for the fifth time, I decided I needed to do something with that Sourdough loaf I’d gotten at WalMart for half off. Garlic bread? I looked in the pantry, again, and saw we had a can of Cannellini beans that I got on sale. Italian bean dip?

I have heard that being an attorney in the internet age is really just highly-specialized googleing. My law school education bears that out and I can find anything on the internets. I quickly found a recipe that was fast and easy. As luck would have it, I had all the ingredients.

So I made bean dip. I pulled the cover off of the food processor and scooped a bit of the creamy dip into my mouth. Yum. Basically an Italian version of hummus. I sliced the sourdough bread and broiled it on both sides until it was slightly charred, and I had a pretty fancy pants snack for stuff that I just had laying around.

When I unwrapped the toasted bread for Nathaniel, I was proud. I had used my internet skills and resourcefulness to make something awesome and save Nathaniel from either spending money on some mediocre food product or, more likely, from having a hunger headache.

After Nathaniel had finished eating, we talked about how his research for his second memo was going as he dangled Summer from her feet. As I looked at the two of them laughing and at the Tupperware with the leftover dip, I knew I’d never be this happy working at a law firm.

Cannellini Bean Dip

From Inn Cuisine, who got it from Giada.

· 1/3 cup Olive Oil

· 1 teaspoon dried Oregano

· 1/2 teaspoon Salt, plus more to taste

· 1/4 teaspoon Pepper, plus more to taste

· 1 (15 ounce) can Cannellini Beans, drained & rinsed

· 1/4 cup (loosely packed) fresh flat-leaf Parsley Leaves (I used dried because who uses fresh parsley often enough to keep it on hand?)

· 2 tablespoons fresh Lemon Juice (from about 1/2 a lemon)

· 1 clove Garlic

Put it in the food processor and go to town.

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The Simple Pleasures of Motherhood

We got Summer a new crib.



I think she likes it.



Don't you?

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Finally, Part 5

By the way, I got this idea from the Pioneer Woman. You should check her out. She has some awesome recipes, too. Some amazingly unhealthy ones too, but mostly awesome.

I lay on the floor, hoping that I wiped away the tear before Nathaniel saw it.

I did like Nathaniel just a little more after I heard that story. So yes, as much as I hate to admit it, I can add to the arsenal of anecdotal evidence that girls like a guy who can be just a little bit bad. Or at least participate in borderline inappropriate behavior.

After the date, when we arrived at the Elms, Nathaniel parked his car and turned off the engine. Neither of us moved to exit, instead continuing our easy chatter. When there was finally a lull in the conversation, Nathaniel said, “I’m not tired.”

“Me neither,” I replied.

“We should do something.”

It made me just a bit giddy that he didn’t want the night to be over, either. “Hot tubbing?” I asked.

“Yes!”

And so we went.

When people ask when I first started to really like Nathaniel, I say it was when I first saw him take his shirt off.

As we sat in the bubbly warm water, we discussed some political hot topic about which we completely disagreed. Eventually, Nathaniel said, “That’s okay. I’ll win you over anyway.”

I think I might have blushed. I couldn’t believe how giddy this guy could make me.

The next day, I woke up thinking of our amazing time together. I wondered if he was at work. I was itching to see him again, and almost went over to his apartment, when I remembered something: I just broke off my engagement four months ago. I just freaked out over the fact that my ex was dating someone else. I had issues.

I could not get into a relationship.

I didn’t think that hanging out with Nathaniel was off limits. And the occasional date was fine. But exclusivity—that I was not prepared for.

So instead of going over to Nathaniel’s apartment, I finished up some work for my externship and thought about how to branch out. I needed to hang out with other guys. I would just get myself sorta attached to several, so there was no way I could get too attached to Nathaniel!

Yeah, I was dumb. Well, I kinda still am.

Anyway, I kept dating other people. The guys I dated were, and in fact, are, amazing people. Truly. But when they asked me out for a third or fourth date, the rational part of me triumphed over the part of me that wanted to see where things would go. As much as I hated rejecting guys, I knew I needed more time unattached. Time to figure out who I was, what I wanted, and where my life was going. And I was enjoying every minute of it.

But when Nathaniel asked me out the third time, the rational part of my brain shut down completely. I just couldn’t turn him down. But, we hadn’t kissed or held hands yet, so there was really no relationship. Right?

Our third date was awesome because it was our first date with just the two of us. I’ve decided that group dates are best when you’re not that into your date. But when you actually like your date and want to spend time with him, I’m honestly just not in the mood to make conversation with other people.

We got Thai from Thai Ruby. I loved that Nathaniel didn’t bat an eye when I was overenthusiastic about certain dishes and ordered for him. I also loved it that he laughed along with me when the waitress “complemented” my hair my saying it looked like a party on my head. And I loved that he didn’t feel pressure to do any fancy date things. We went to a friend’s art show and then to Rock Canyon Park with some blankets to look at the stars. Cliché, I know. But I didn’t care. I just couldn’t get enough of this guy.

We lay about two feet apart, on our stomachs, chatting about the stars. I was to the point that I really wanted to cuddle with him, but of course I didn’t have the guts to make a move. I was elated when I felt Nathaniel’s hand on my upper arm and I immediately scooted over so he could hug me more. Don’t you love that feeling? When every spot where your bodies touch tingles with excitement, but it’s so innocent because it’s just cuddling? I thought it showed a lot of confidence on Nathaniel’s part that he just went for it like that.

By the end of the night, I wasn’t so sure I could reject him. Ever. Maybe I’d just have to risk him rejecting me, after all. And we’d only known each other for three weeks.

Much later, when we were engaged, I found out that Nathaniel’s “I’ll win you over” statement in the hot tub wasn’t referring to winning me over romantically, as I assumed, but instead winning me over to his way of thinking. And when he reached over to cuddle me? He was just trying to tickle me. Lame.

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Four Months

Part Five is pretty much done. Nathaniel has to read it first. He might make me take stuff out. I might leave it in anyway.

But first, today is Summer's four month birthday. It's amazing that she's been in my world for a third of a year. What am amazing third of a year it's been.

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Some words and some pictures that have little to do with them

So, I haven’t written part five. This is why I wanted to post this story on the blog: because I hoped people would bug me to finish. And I will. I promise. But first I wanted to write some other stuff.

I went to a class at education week that was called something like “Books are the doorway to the universe.” It turns out it was about encouraging kids to read. Even though I wasn’t going to have a kid for seven years (because, you see, I knew that), I stayed because it was good information. Wilcox talked about the importance of keeping a journal and gave a piece of advice (the only thing that stayed with me from that class): don’t try to catch up. If you try, you’ll likely never write. Journaling is about figuring out your life as you’re living it, not about keeping your posterity informed that you baked a great pie or that your next door neighbor has a really cute baby.

I figure a blog is similar. Blogging is about keeping in touch with friends and family. You don’t need a play-by-play of our lives to do that. So I’m only going to share a few things that happened in Hawaii.

But you will get random pictures.

I cooked some sweet meals. I can say that because it’s my blog. I made quinoa with chicken and Mexican spices. Quinoa has to be my new favorite food. It’s amazing. A few days later I made a two part meal: first a frittata with zucchini and bell peppers and then oat waffles served with cream whipped with brown sugar and topped with blueberries.

Nathaniel left a few days before I did because he had to start school, which left me in the position of lugging this through an airport:

It was not easy I feel like a rock star for having accomplished that.

As I was waiting at the airport in Phoenix, nursing Summer (with no blanket, by the way. I feel like blankets just scream “Look at my baby sucking on my boob!”), a girl over to me and smiled at the baby and touched her. She was just tickled pink. It was really cute. Later, she came over and asked if she could take a picture. “Sure,” I replied. I didn’t expect, however, that she really just wanted to take a picture Summer nursing, which she did. It was so close to my chest that I could actually see the picture that she was taking, and Summer’s head and my boob filled up the whole thing. Her parents noticed and apologized (not that I really cared), explaining that this girl was breast fed and apparently wasn’t weaned until she was two and a half. That’s unusual, but it still doesn’t explain taking a picture of my boob.

Upon my arrival home, I had to figure out how to put the car seat in the car for the first time. I didn’t do it very well, and the next day, after I made a turn, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw that the car seat had tipped over. Shocked, I pulled over and opened the back door. Summer was just sitting in her car seat, still attempting to eat her stuffed toy frog. Should I be pleased or concerned that getting tipped over and riding sideways in a car didn’t faze her in the least?

I totally thought today was our anniversary. Nathaniel showed me our marriage certificate this morning and proved me wrong. It was two days ago.

I love my life.

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Brief explanation of the massive amount of debt we've incurred

So, Nathaniel and I like to go to Hawaii. Besides the obvious lure of the beach and gorgeous climate, Nathaniel's aunt and uncle live here. They teach at BYU-Hawaii and are some of the most generous people I've ever met. So they kick their daughters out of their room and let us sleep in their beds. It's wonderful. They're super fun to talk to and live close to the beach.

For those who don't know, my stepmom works for Delta. This means I get standby plane tickets really cheap. You can go online and find out which flights have empty seats and how many employees want them.

All this means is that Nathaniel and I can go to Hawaii for under $500. Last year we went and had an amazing experience. So we wanted to replicate that this year.

So we found the planes that had lots of empty seats and went on our way.

On the way over, things worked out pretty well. Nathaniel go to fly first class (oh, yeah, you can fly first class if there are empty seats). I would have flown first class too if I didn't have Summer with me.

The trip was great. Hawaii is awesome, and Chad and Cynthia just make it even more awesome. I love this family.

On the way back, on Monday, the planets aligned in just the wrong way and flights that once had twenty empty seats were suddenly oversold by five. There was no way we were getting out of Honolulu.

This wouldn't be a problem, except that Nathaniel was going to start orientation at law school last Wednesday.

So we decided to be creative. There was a flight from Kona, a city on the Big Island, to Salt Lake City that looked great. So we listed on that flight, bought fifty dollar plane tickets to Kona, and congratulated ourselves in finding a solution to getting back home.

And the we realized that Delta's online program for those flying standby was being tricky. It turned out that that "empty" flight to SLC consisted of an oversold flight to LA and then a good flight to SLC. But the next day's flight to LA looked good, and we had already bought the tickets to Kona. So we went to the Big Island.

We didn't get on the flight that night, so we decided to get a hotel. We wanted one with an airport shuttle. And guess what?

None of the hotels close to the airport had an airport shuttle.

So decided that we had enough of this whole spending money thing and decided to rent a van and sleep in it.

But we didn't. We got a hotel. I'm glad. Sleeping in a van in a strange land with a baby sounds really awful. What was I thinking?

The next day, we looked at our flight again. You remember, the one that had lots of empty seats?

Full.

Staying in Kona waiting for a decent flight was not an option. The cost of rental cars and hotels can add up fast.

So we looked at the flights from Honolulu back home. Full. The next day? Full. The day after that? Full. What was happening? And how on earth were we getting home?

So Nathaniel did it. He bought a ticket home, last minute. What was he supposed to do? Miss school waiting around for a flight with an empty seat?

And me? I bought a ticket back to Oahu.

Being away from my husband sucks.

I looked at flights from Honolulu to back home for me. I figured I'd just hunker down at the Compton's with Summer until there was a flight.

I told you this family was generous.

I looked at all my options, and found out that the next flight out of Honolulu that wasn't oversold left September 10th. It was August 20th. No way.

So I, too bought a flight back to the mainland.

Can we afford this? Um, no.

So what do can we learn from this?

1. Standby sucks. Standby has, for the most part, been very good to me. For years I flew anywhere Delta flew. For free. Sure, I had to sleep in an airport or two, but it was totally worth it. I've been to Spain, Italy, Costa Rica, Romania (to visit my mission), the UK, France, and all over the US for free because of Delta. Then I turned 23 and had to pay for my ticket, but I still get to fly last minute for very little money (It cost me fifty dollars to go to Seattle).

BUT, I only fly if there are seats available in the plane. With the recession, Delta is clearly changing their policies and packing their planes like cans of sardines. So flying standby is obviously more risky now. I don't think that's a risk we can afford to take.

2. I haven't learned this yet, but we are now going to have to get by on very little money to pay for this trip. It should be interesting. I'll keep you posted.

About pictures: Nathaniel absconded with the camera. I'll post them as soon as he sends me pictures. Or maybe he'll post them.

About Part 5: It's coming. I promise.

About the title of this post: Okay, it's actually a pretty long explanation of our trip. But I could make it longer, I assure you.

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[Insert Swear Word Here]

Planned Expenses for our Trip to Hawaii:

Standby Airfare: $400

Food: $50

Housewarming Gift: $35

Total: $485

Unplanned Expenses:

2 Plane Tickets to Kona: $100

Rental Car for Kona: $70

Hotel in Kona: $70

Beach Stuff for Kona: $20

Food: $30

Gas: $25

Last-Minute Flight from Kona to Salt Lake: $780

1 Plane ticket Back to Honolulu: $40

Flight from Honolulu to Salt Lake: $370

Total: $1,525

Airfare refund: $150.

Grand Total: $1,860

Lesson learned.

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Our Story, Part 4

Our next date was tennis. But it was such a bad experience, and it was on a weekday, so I really don’t consider it a date. I had taken a beginning tennis class a year earlier, but I was terrible. The ball never went where it was supposed to go, even when I tossed the ball up myself. I never, in the entire semester, hit a backhand in the correct square. The bigger problem, however, was that during our first date, I joked about how great of a tennis player I was. I told him that I would kick his trash. I thought it would be so hilarious to talk up my skills and be so tricky.

It wasn’t hilarious. It was just dumb. I hardly ever managed to hit the ball back. The worst part of missing hits was not the clear demonstration that I sucked at tennis. It was the running after the ball again and again and again as Nathaniel, unable to help me out all the way on the other side of the court, stood there and watched. No, actually, the worst part was bending over to pick up the ball, giving my opponent a great view of my backside sticking up in the air. I called it quits after ten minutes.

So what I call our second date was actually our third, but I can’t call it the third or else I will get all mixed up in my head.

You know how Utah high school kids have themed group dates? Nathaniel has a friend who decided to do one of those. I guess he had some good experiences with that sort of thing in high school. We didn’t do that in Georgia.

Looking back on the date, I wish I hadn’t been wearing what I wore. You see, it was gangster-themed and Nathaniel encouraged me to go all out. With Marisa Tomei as my inspiration, I wore a black fitted jacket and a black pencil skirt with gaudy diamond-y costume jewelry, black gloves, stilettos, and fishnets. I guess that part of the outfit wasn’t so bad. It was when I decided to really get into character and wear pale make-up and dark lipstick that I did myself in. Why did I think that gangster’s girlfriends had pale faces?

If I had been smarter and just wore the plain, boring, make-up I usually wore, I would have a decent picture to show Summer when she starts to get curious about how her parents got together. Instead I have this.

Urg. Oh, and I have the memory of the awkward feeling I got when I saw the other girl on the date who was wearing jeans.

After dinner at Fazoli’s, a very gangster-y place, we went to the store to get stuff to make dessert. Because this was a creative date, we weren’t just going to be boring with dessert. Nathaniel and I would make dessert for the other couple on the date while they made dessert for us.

I was totally down with whatever plan gave Nathaniel and me more alone time.

We chose to make the easiest dessert in the world: ice cream sandwiches made with those cookies that you just pull apart and bake. As the cookies were baking, Nathaniel and I lay (lie?) down on the floor and talked. WHAT? WE DID THAT? IS THAT ALLOWED? Chill, people, there weren’t any couches in the basement and we were far apart from each other.

Nathaniel and I talked with the ease of old friends, so my questions got progressively less inhibited. I told Nathaniel he seemed like a very upright, do-good, stay-within-the-lines type of person. “Have you ever done anything rebellious?” I asked.

Ok. This is where I have to add my part of the story (This is Nathaniel).

UPDATE: Due to the nature of the internet, you'll have to ask Nathaniel to hear the story. It's a good one.

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Nathaniel's other blog

Well, I've decided that I want to document my little walk down economics lane more fully on a blog. But I realize that most of you are probably waiting for Dorothy's latest installment of "Our Story" and wouldn't be quite as happy to see another post from me about economics. So, for those who want to keep reading the econ, you can follow my personal blog. That doesn't mean I'll never blog here again, just not as often.

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Economics and health care

This is the last free summer of my foreseeable future. I figure next summer I'll be working for a law firm somewhere. The summer after that I'll be working for a law firm somewhere. And the summer after that I'll be working for a law firm somewhere. That's as far as my foreseeable future goes. Depressing, I know.

So, I've tried to do some things this summer that I probably won't be able to do during those lame-o, law-firm summers. Biggest thing on the list has been to spend lots of time with my wife and baby. That's been fantastic and needs to be the topic of its own blog entry on another day. Another thing I've done (and which will be the topic of this blog entry) is spend some quality time with books. P.J. O'Rourke (whoever that is) said that you should "Always read something that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it." And that's great, but I haven't worried about that much. Instead, I've just been reading stuff that I like.

Well, turns out that I like books (and blogs) on economics. In my modest opinion, the discipline of economics is incredible. It isn't interested in your political persuasions, but in truth. It recognizes (indeed it teaches) that motivations rarely equal outcomes. And it opens your eyes to new and fresh ways of thinking.

With the help of economics I'm presently persuaded that for the greater part the government bailouts were/are a bad idea, school vouchers would greatly improve our schools, marijuana ought to be legalized, and the fervor over immediately capping carbon emissions to reduce global warming is largely unnecessary.

Yeah, I know, what in the world made me think that reading about this sort of stuff would be better than all the great novels out there? To answer that, I'm really not sure. But I have done a bit of novel reading as well.

Anyway, I see now that my wife is getting a small but faithful group to follow "Our Story" and I'd like you all to know who this person is that she married. So, check out this link if you've got some time. It's about Obamacare and why we should all be VERY skeptical of it. A Harvard economist wrote the article and it's a great example of how economics can really open our eyes.

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Our Story, Part 3

This is cheesy, but hey, that's how it goes.



On May 5th, I hitched a ride back from a big get-together at the bishop’s house. The sky was cloudy and it had just been raining. Surely a bad omen. I had wavered between canceling and going, and by continuing to waver I inadvertently committed to going. As I sat in the back seat of the car, staring out the window, I knew it was wrong. I shouldn’t go. How could I, when today was supposed to have been my wedding day? I should be at home, I thought, with a friend and Ben and Jerry’s. I wouldn’t have a good time and my date wouldn’t have a good time and it would be a mess of a night.

“Any plans for tonight?” the girl sharing the back seat asked me.

“Yeah, I have a date. We’re supposed to go canoeing, but it’s not looking like great weather.”

“Oh, who’s your date?”

“Um, Nathaniel is his name, I think.”

“Oh, he’s really cool. And funny. You’ll have a good time.”

This was encouraging. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be such a disaster after all.

I was right about the rain – there would be no canoeing. Nathaniel called and said that we were just going to do dinner and play games at his place. I was glad; this meant I could wear whatever I wanted. I threw on some clothes, fluffed my hair a bit (because that’s how my hair had to be: fluffy), and re-did my make-up, just like I did for all dates. Nathaniel came to the door. I answered.

He probably looked good, but I remember absolutely nothing about that moment.

I do remember, as we were walking toward his car, that he found I had just finished my first year of law school.

“What?” he asked, surprised. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Man, I’m 23. I guess it takes longer when you go on a mission.”

This was my favorite moment of introductions.

“I served a mission, too.”

“Are you serious? Man, how did it take me so long?”

With that excellent beginning, we learned more about each other. I learned that he wanted to go to law school, that he came from a family of nine(!) kids, and that he had two more years of undergrad left. And he loved to read. He didn’t just read books for school. He read for pleasure. He read all sorts of books. He read all the time. That was hot.

We went to Los Hermanos for dinner. It was Cinco de Mayo and very crowded. I noted the numbers of people waiting for a table.

“Don’t worry, I was thinking ahead and made reservations.” Wow, that was kind of a cocky voice.

“Wow, you are so smart! Who would have thought of such a thing? Making reservations? You have got to be the most brilliant person alive!” I’m usually not good at sarcasm, and I know this sounds dumb, but here it really worked. And it got the reaction I wanted.

He talked back to me. He was standing close to me. I liked it.

At dinner, I asked Nathaniel all the usual questions, but not because it was polite or it was the right thing to do or to fill in the silence. I asked because I was dying to find out more about this person. More about this book reader with gorgeous blue eyes and a perfect smile, who liked Linkin Park but felt a bit guilty listening to them, who was proud of his grades, who loved cheese, and who held my attention with a grip so strong I forgot about the two other couples who accompanied us at dinner. I forgot about my food. I forgot about the masses of people around us. I forgot about everything except the way Nathaniel pondered before answering a question, the way he laughed, and the way he listened to me as though I was the only person in his world, too.

When dinner was over, we headed back to his apartment for games and ice cream. Looking at the display of games on the table, I knew which I wanted to play. Battleship. Two players. Just Nathaniel and me.

For some reason, playing Battleship, I was a complete ditz. Perhaps it was because I didn’t want to focus on dumb numbers and sinking ships when right in front of me there was there was a human being that I had to know everything about...if I could think straight when I was looking into his eyes.

“B7.” I said with conviction.

“B7? You just said B7. It was a miss.” Nathaniel looked at me, laughing, with a look that was half amusement and half “I can’t believe you just said something so stupid, again.”

“Oh. Right.”

One of his roommates asked Nathaniel something. I couldn’t hear it, or maybe I can’t remember it, but I loved Nathaniel’s response.

“Nothing. I am just talking to my date.” He was looking at me.

Something about the way he said “my date” made me think he liked me. I hoped he did.

When Nathaniel dropped me off, my roommate asked me how the date went.

“Really good!” My voice was a mixture of happiness, excitement, surprise, and confusion. An amazing date was the last thing I had been expecting that night. I tried to figure out why I had such a great time. We hadn’t done anything particularly exciting. The food was mediocre. Battleship was kind of a dumb game. The ice cream we ate after games didn’t look good; I didn’t have any. When we tried to watch Office clips, it didn’t really work on the huge, 1970s era TV.

But Nathaniel. Nathaniel was amazing. As far as I could tell, there was nothing wrong with him. There was no requisite I had for a significant other that he didn’t meet. His three goals in life were to be a good husband, be a good father, and honor his priesthood. He was intelligent. He was funny. He was not socially awkward. He was impressed, not intimidated by the fact that I was in law school. He was okay with his mistakes because he was comfortable with himself.

As I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t sleep. Something wasn’t quite right. I wasn’t supposed to be feeling like this, whatever “like this” was.

And then it hit me. Today was my wedding day. Today was the day that I was supposed to be married and I hadn’t thought about it for a moment until then.

I drifted off to sleep, amazed.

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