Saturday, February 28, 2015

real fast

Our closing date got pushed back by a week mainly because of the Dallas Blizzard. I was pretty bummed until I realized 1. We had another week to get ready to move, 2. It would be a miserable, cold, wet weekend to move, and 3. I didn't want that cold, wet snow/mud tracked all over my brand new home and carpets. What's a week?!

So instead of moving, we went sledding last night. I think it was Ammon's first time, and he loved it. I'm so glad we brought our (one) sled when we moved from Ohio! Also, I love our fun little town! 

This morning we got up early and got to busines. Joe worked some more in the garage. I successfully sold Madison's bed and our patio set, and we took apart all the kids' beds (and cleaned up the random things hidden underneath them). Sweet Joe scrubbed the kids' shower and we put the landlord's shower curtain back up. 

The bulk trash people were supposed to come on Thursday but didn't make it because of the weather, so we were waiting to take our bulk items out because we didn't want them be buried in the snow. I was cleaning up when I heard the truck outside and I started yelling for Joe to hurry!! He ran out and asked if they would wait for us to bring out our bulky items. It was such a lucky little blessing to get those things cleared out today, because otherwise we would've had to wait two more weeks!

We were organized into a new ward last week, but I haven't given back my church building keys (I promise I will!). So as a reward for our hard work, we all went to the church to play basketball. Ammon got to ride his scooter in a million court-sized circles and Madi enjoyed practicing with her ripstick on the smooth floor. Logan almost legitimately beat Joe in HORSE and Grant spent the last 20 minutes we were there crying because he couldn't make a basket. 

We decided to go out for tacos and Joe ordered us an array of yummy food, including sopapillas. Grant cried because Logan got the last sopapilla, and Logan surprised us all by walking over and giving it to him. It was extra sweet because they have been fighting with each other ALL day/week, so we were kind of shocked. Grant accepted the gift, ate it, and then walked over to Logan, gave him a big hug, and said, "Thank you, Logan. You are the best brother." Those few seconds changed the whole mood of the family. 

Little by little we are getting the moving work done, and little by little I am catching tiny glimpses of hope that my kids really do care about each other. 

Fingers are crossed that this week will run smoothly, that the work will get done, and that we will have the strength and energy to get it done. That the house will close on time and that the weather will cooperate. That it will really happen and that we can finally move in and move on. To moving. Cheers! 

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

never gonna end

Today I gave myself a pity party. I thought of all the reasons my life is hard right now and I cried and felt sorry for myself. I mixed it up with a little bit of work... scrubbing the shower and bathtub. Laundry. Packing a box or three. I took a shower in my clean shower and then I crawled under my covers and cried some more. I tried to take a nap, but all I could think about was everything that needed to be done.

Joe called me on his way home from work and I started crying some more. He asked me what was wrong and I told him, "The more I do to try and prepare to move the more I realize there's more to do, and it's never going to end." After almost 14 years of marriage, that man walked in the door and did the only thing he could do: envelope me in a big, protective hug. (He also brought me chocolate and made wonderful promises about being around more to help me. I'm in love.) 

I've had all day to throw this pity party; I've mixed it up with a little bit of thinking, and the funny thing is that the things that are hard right now are also the things that I am most grateful for in my life. Isn't that ironic? 

Kids. I love my kids. Kids are a lot of work.

29 Weeks Pregnant (with kid #5!). I'm feeling it. My body is tired and uncomfortable and all I really want to do is rest, but I can't. I have kids and I have to get ready to move. I enjoy being pregnant, I really do. But I'm getting to the point where I don't feel very pretty. My clothes don't fit the way I would like, my face is looking worn, tired, dry, and it's already getting a little bit swollen. It's going to get a lot worse before it gets better. I'm not sleeping well. There's the bathroom thing. And the baby moving a lot and waking me up all night thing. And Ammon coming into my room at 1:30 am to tell me he has to go potty. And me not being able to go back to sleep, partly because all I can do is think about everything I need to do.  Anyway. Growing a human is a lot of work.

Moving. I have been waiting for this day/week/month since the first week of April 2014. That's a lie. I have been waiting for this day since we left Cleveland, and I've been preparing for it since April. My house is complete chaos and a total disaster and I really don't know how it's all going to happen. Moving is a lot of work.

Business is good. Every day I ask Joe how his day went, and every day he tells me that he is swamped. And I think: What an incredible blessing to have work. To have income. To be able to provide for a family and to pay for a new baby and to buy a new house. But when Joe's load gets heavy away from home, my load gets heavier at home as well, and the load feels especially heavy at 29 weeks while trying to move. Being busy is a lot of work. 

So there's my pity party. It has to end today because I simply and complicatedly have too much to do to sit around and feel sorry for myself. I know there are worse things in life. I know that soon we will be unpacked and enjoying our new home. I know that this baby will come and we will somehow find the time to prepare for his arrival before then. Everything is going to be OK. But today, right now, this feels hard--and that's ok, too. 

Yes, that is my dirty, dirty bathroom mirror. It's on my to-do list. 

Friday, February 13, 2015

27 weeks 3 days


I think this is my first selfie; it's blurry and I feel silly. But--I haven't done a picture for several weeks and I want to remember what I looked like when I was pregnant. 

First: a story. The kids have been jiggling my belly and talking and singing to the baby. It's been fun to be able to talk to them each week about how the baby is growing and the neat tricks he can do (he can blink in there!). They've also been asking a lot of questions about how the baby is going to get out. We are pretty open with them. They've already started to pray for a comfortable and safe delivery.

Two days ago Ammon was saying his personal prayers and he started out saying, "Please let the baby pop out of mom soon." There were a few more pop requests, and then suddenly it turned to, "Please help mom to not hurt when she poops out the baby." I was trying so hard not to laugh! But for a 3 year old, that is not a bad understanding! I am basically going to poop out a nine pound baby. No wonder it's uncomfortable. 

Also, apparently my kids haven't told their teachers that they are going to have a new baby, and the teachers are starting to stare at my belly....I can tell they want to ask me if it is what they think it is when I go in each week to eat lunch with the kids. Yesterday one of Logan's teachers came up to me as we were leaving. She talked to Ammon for a few minutes, gave him a high-five, then said, "So do you just have 3 kids?" (Referring to Madi, Logan, and Ammon.) I told her that Grant was in first grade, and I could see her glance at my belly, so I said circled it and said, "And this little boy makes five!" Wow five! I know! I don't mind the surprise and comments, though. I just say, "Yep! We love them all! The more the merrier!"

I'm feeling pretty good. It is starting to get harder to bend over and to get up and down from the floor. When I walk too quickly or for too long (my exercise of choice) I get cramps on my right side underbelly. 

August (is that really going to be his name?!) is filling out my body and I can feel limbs scraping against my sides. I rub my belly and poke him back. (This is probably my favorite thing about being pregnant.) I wonder what he thinks as he hears the chaos of his brothers and sister...and mom and dad trying to talk over them. What a crazy, loud family he is coming to, full of people who will love and spoil him! 

We have a tentative moving date--hooray! I am looking forward to being able to prepare for this little guy's arrival. 

Monday, February 2, 2015

responsible

We are so responsible that we have a fire extinguisher hanging up in our pantry. 

And then about 2 years ago, right when I decided the kids were old enough to make their own lunches, we became less responsible by hanging the bag of lunch chips on the fire extinguisher. 

Perhaps it's pure luck that it has worked out for us....until today. Despite the fact that I've been up since 5 am (also I'm growing a human), I forced myself to do something today and decided to start with discarding the TWO empty chip bags hanging on the fire extinguisher. I knocked it down. It went off. 

White powder everywhere. 

The canister still feels pretty heavy, so I think it sprayed only a small amount, but it made a huge mess. Also, it continued to leak when placed upright. So...I wadded up a piece of paper towel and stuck it up the hose. 

Not so responsible anymore, are we?

The good news is that as a result my pantry is cleaner, and the entire kitchen has been wiped down, swept, and mopped. 

Also. I have two HUGE goals I'm working towards, but I'm really struggling because I'm stuck! I can't do a lot to meet these goals right now, and so while my mind is completely occupied and obsessed with knowing what needs to happen, I am left feeling blah in the suspense of anxiously waiting for the day I can actually start working towards those two things: moving and preparing for a baby. 

I am really, really hoping/wanting/praying that we can move this month--the earlier the better. I have packed almost everything I can that we don't use regularly. I have organized closets and desks and drawers and taken bags and bags to thrift stores and every Tuesday Trash Day my garbage can is overflowing. I've studied and asked around and planned the best way to move things: closets and kitchen and bathrooms first, then all the big stuff. I need to hire a piano mover and someone to clean the rental once we are out. The only thing I haven't touched is the garage, and I'm heavily hinting to DH that he might want to do that soon....

Then when we move I can find a crib and a car seat and focus on getting ready for baby #5. May is coming up fast. 

So that's where I'm at right now. Anxiety attack! 

Thursday, January 22, 2015

not my favorite night

I am startled out of sleep at approximately 1:30 a.m. There is a momentary confusion--is someone seriously knocking on my door in the middle of the night? Like--pounding hard knocking. I get out of bed and put on some more appropriate clothing. I peek down through the blinds. There are two men standing on my front porch (really more like the tiny slab of cement in front of the door). They are standing in the rain, wearing dark clothing, and I'm pretty sure their heads are covered by hoodies. What. The heck. After a few moments I watch them walk down my driveway and turn right. They change their minds after a few steps and turn to start walking in another direction, another house. I'm not sure what to do, so I walk downstairs.

Joe is in Colorado. I don't know why, but I call him. "There are two guys wearing hoodies knocking at the front door." He tells me to hang up and call the police. I feel stupid. Is there really a threat?

I call 911.

She asks me for the address of the emergency. I think that's exactly what she said. I hesitate, because I don't even know if it's an emergency, but I go ahead and tell her my address. Then I say, "I don't even know if it's an emergency, but I'm home alone with four kids and two men in dark clothing are knocking on my door. I think they walked away, but only to knock on other doors."

She tells me that there is an alarm going off in my neighborhood and that two officers are trying to find the house.

I'm almost delirious, my heart is still pounding, and I'm MAD. They woke me up at 1:30 in the morning  because they can't figure out what house is beeping? "I don't see a police car. Definitely no flashing lights," I tell her. "It's the middle of the night. They don't want to wake the whole neighborhood up," she says. Thanks a lot.

Joe calls me; I explain the situation.

I try, unsuccessfully, to go back to sleep.

I am tired today. These days I get tired pretty easily, but this is a weary, exhausted, didn't-have-to-happen tired. I keep replaying the whole thing in my mind. Who knocks like that at 1:30 in the morning? Who would open their door to strangers in dark clothing? What if I had opened the door while holding a weapon? Would I have been shot?

I'm thankful that Ammon is easy-going. We ate an early lunch and I was able to take a two hour nap. We are all safe, and that is what matters, but I can't help but wonder: isn't there a better way?

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Logan writes an essay

He came home complaining that he had to write an informative essay. By tomorrow. I suggested he write about something he knows, so he decided to write about something that has, until this point in time, been the most defining experience of his short 11-year old life.

How to Prepare for an Appalachian Trail Hike

Hiking these mountains is a thrilling experience, but the terrain makes it deadly, especially if you don't prepare well. Therefore, for the full thrill of your hiking experience to be unlocked, you should read this to find the best way to prepare for your trip.

You cannot enter this trail with no training unless you want to feed the vultures. You have to be ready for the weight of your pack and the long distance walking, maybe two or three miles at a time, and slowly advance to longer distances. Pace yourselves--speed is more important than you think. Then you add some weight. Go on practice hikes with the food and supplies you need in your pack. You could also strap a 20 pound dumbbell on your back and start over with your 1-2 mile distances, moving up in weight and distance each time. Only after this harsh training will your body be prepared for this hike.

No matter how much your body can take, it won't matter unless you have an idea about how far you will walk, where you will go, and where you will sleep. You need to study maps and read about the places that you can go. Should you stop at Civil War sites? Maybe go past good views? Possibly past towns to replenish supplies? Whatever you do, you need a starting point, a trail, and an ending point. Pick the distances that you want to go every day and where you want to sleep. Now you know where you want to go, and your body is fit to go there.

You know where to go, and your body can handle the distance, but where is your fuel? Where are your tools? Well, you pack them, but how do you know what to pack? Well, let's start with packing food. You need something filling, light, it cannot rot, and you have to have enough of it. I would suggest one pack of freeze dried food per meal. I would not suggest meat that isn't freeze dried, because 5 minutes after eating you will be on the verge of puking. If you want to bring a snack, bring energy bars. However, you don't need too much of a snack, because every once in a while, there is a plain field with berries that are ok to eat. For drinks there are places along the trail to replenish water, but you might want to bring some chocolate or gatorade powder to add some taste... only if you are desperate, of course.

Also, you will need tools. These should include eating utensils, means to cook your food, and two lights. There is no need for weapons, as none of the animals will attack you, not even the bears. In fact, the forest can seem lifeless at times. You will, of course, need a sleeping bag and tent. The only thing you need to know about this is that you should get the smallest, lightest of each that you can find.

Let's go! Now that you are ready, you'd best be headed off. I hope your hiking experience is great!

Friday, January 9, 2015

22.5 weeks

Another no-makeup photo. Oh well. The kids have been sick and I've been stuck inside. 

But come on--you can definitely tell there is a baby in there!! 

You might notice how empty the mantel looks. 
On the side you will notice the stacks of boxes that are taking over my house. 

I'm in a packing/throwing away mood. My friend said her husband said nesting plus moving is bad news....we'll have nothing left. But I have decided: if I don't love it, I'm not taking it to the new home. What that really means is that I'm going to have a lot of boxes of stuff and no where to put them, since most of what I'm getting rid of is broken second-hand shelving. 

I feel pretty good. Yesterday was the first day I noticed that I don't like to bend over much. 

Today I had to ask a friend I was helping if I could sit down. That's kind of embarrassing. I'm not sure if it's low blood sugar or what, but standing for long periods of time makes me feel like I'm going to pass out. It only takes one time of waiting too long to realize that I need to 1) recognize the signs 2) get over my pride and 3) sit down quickly. I have felt this way for 3 of my pregnancies and the doctor says that's normal. So anyway, I have a good excuse to sit a lot. 

The baby weighs 1 lb 1oz. He is the size of a banana, and 3 days bigger than my due date. I had an extensive ultrasound and everything looks great. The kids (and Joe, of course) can now feel the baby moving and love to sit by me with their hand on my belly. Actually, Joe likes that for a few minutes but after 4 kids says it's old news. He's jealous, that's all. 

Right now the only name Joe and I are at a compromise on is August Benjamin. He likes it because August is a unique name; I like it because my grandfather's name was Augustus. Benjamin is after my brother, Ben, who was killed in a car accident in 2004. 

The kids hate the name, but are coming around to it. Sometimes they call him Auggie, or Augustus, or Ceaser Augustus, or Peter Parker. 

Ok. I found the house unlocked again yesterday and Ammon and I hung out in it for about half an hour. They just need to do a final cleaning, patch up some bricks I made them move (they put an outside gas connection in the wrong place--three times!), and paint the front door red. 

I love it. 

Life is good. 

Knock on wood. 

Thursday, January 8, 2015

a look back

Five years ago today we drove our family of five through the Texas border with the hopes of starting a new, better, life. We walked into a rental home we had never seen--also maybe the ugliest home I have ever seen--with a different fluorescent color on every single wall. It was 30 degrees inside the house, so we all bundled up, and then the five of us tried to sleep on one double air mattress. It never warmed up because the heater in that terrible house was broken. I cried that first night as I thought of the beautiful home in Cleveland that we had left behind in exchange for something so unstable and unknown. I cried the next morning, a Sunday, as I drove to Walmart to purchase a little heater, and I cried as we shivered and shook while we tried to get ready, without any of our belongings, for a new church with new people. 


We had a little bit of hope, and we were a lot terrified. But mostly we felt unsure about what was going to happen. Could we really start a business in the middle of the Great Recession? How long would it take to catch up again? To feel safe?


I got through those challenging moments by telling myself that in five years I would wonder why I was so worried. That we would survive--because what other choice is there? I promised myself that we would survive, and that while we survived we would love and live as gracefully and happily as possible. 


Sometimes "possible" looked like a mom hiding in her bedroom, her head buried into a pillow, while she cried and begged her God for help and reassurance. Sometimes "possible" looked like a little first grade boy hiding notes from his teacher that asked for money, because he knew that money was a sensitive subject. Sometimes "possible" meant a family spending time together in their home playing games, singing songs, and making happy memories that didn't cost any money. 


My deadline of five years has now been met. I do not look back and wonder why I worried. I look back and realize that our story is amazing. So much more amazing than it would be had we not been given the opportunity to struggle. I look back and see a girl who was me, but a different me. I can look back through my timeline and see how I have changed and grown as a person. My family has grown--not only physically, but in so many other ways. We are stronger. We understand what it is to struggle, and there is compassion in understanding. We have learned how to save and manage money. We have learned how to forgive and move on from the things and people who have hurt us. We are more generous and willing to share what we have been given. 


As I look back I can see, and I know, without a doubt, that we were not left alone on this journey. As the pieces of the puzzle come together it is very clear to me that Heavenly Father knew what he was doing as he led us to  meet the people we needed to meet, and at the very right time, in order to get to where we are today. 


Five years. It is about to come full circle. Finally, we not only feel financially safe, but we feel like we have "caught up." We hope to close on our beautiful home in a few weeks, and finally, I feel like the chapter of loss that I have felt over our home in Cleveland will come to a close. 


In some ways, now that we have made it these five years, I feel like we are about to embark on a new journey. What will the next five years bring? I'm sure there will be much happiness along with some sorrow. New experiences. My children will grow older. Joe and I will get older!!


My prayer today, and always, is that I can live each day to its fullest. One of my favorite quotes is from Joseph B. Wirthlin, "Come what may, and love it." 


Today it is 15 degrees outside. Not so unlike that very cold January 8, 2010, when we first arrived in Texas. My kids are healthy (after 3 days of being sick) and back in school. I am enjoying my minutes with Ammon, and absolutely loving the dancing inside my belly. My husband works. He's busy. So busy that sometimes I complain about his late nights spent working. But Oh! What a wonderful thing it is to be busy! To have so much work to do that it keeps you up all night! My house, though a complete and crazy disaster of boxes and stuff, is warm! 


Come what may--today, tomorrow, and over the next five years--I know that we will survive. And as we survive, we will continue to love and live as gracefully and happily as possible. 


Tuesday, December 30, 2014

half of a Christmas post

I don't think we actually took any pictures on Christmas Day. I'd like to believe we were too busy enjoying our time together. We had a very good Christmas. The highlight was when the kids opened their baby presents and found out that they were going to have another baby brother. That deserves its own post--soon. Maybe. 

We decided to skip the toys this year. Instead we bought the kids one-ish bigger gift(s). 

Logan got his very own bow with arrows. Like--a real bow. He has spent hours shooting it--almost every day. 

Madison got a ripstick (sort of like a skateboard that mimicks snowboarding) and a pair of boots. She complained at first that she didn't get anything she wanted (because again, we didn't buy toys), but after she put on her boots and figured out how to work the ripstick she was happy again. 

Grant got a camping experience with dad. He got some hiking boots, a head lamp, and some freezer dried food. They went camping on Friday. The coyotes howled, the wind blew, the rain came down. They packed up at 5 am, hiked back to the car, and came home. Grant has no desire to go camping again, but enjoys telling the kids that he saw a coyote lose a bloody tooth. (Ummm. Ok?)

Ammon got a very nice scooter--one just like Grant's. He loves it, only now we get to hear him and Grant fight (cry) about who can go faster. 

We also got each of the kids a laundry basket and they all chose a day to do their own laundry each week (Grant and Ammon are together, and I said I would help them). They actually seem ok with it--maybe even excited. 

Random thoughts:

Someday I will be able to take a shower without anyone barging in to talk to me. And when I lock the door (in an attempt for privacy) no one will bang and on the door, and shout through the door (and over the water) for the entire 10 minutes, to tell me they have to go to the bathroom (we have 3 toilets), or to tell me that they are being mean--or nice. Today someone actually knocked to tell me he/she was being nice to someone else. 

Until that day, I will celebrate the little things like:

Watching Grant stand on a chair at the washing machine (with his headlamp on so he can see into the dark abyss) so he can do his own laundry. Also, he volunteered to do Madison's for her today. 

We are also celebrating (and I'm laughing) over the fact that he came in to tell me that he folded 8! pairs of underwear! "See mom, I changed my underwear everyday this week!!!" 

Oh yes. On Saturday we put Ammon down for a nap on my bed and turned a movie on for the other kids so that Joe and I could drive 2 miles down the road and eat lunch together. 45 minutes gone, tops. Right as we were getting our food we got a text from Madison: "Ammon got out of bed and he got into your nail polish."

He painted his nails, his clothes, and my quilt. I also found a few drops on the floor today. I actually had a conversation in my head (while scrubbing my fingers raw with chemicals) debating whether or not I'd rather deal with nail polish mess (expense of replacing items) or a child cutting his/her own hair (more immediately and physically noticeable and takes time to grow back). I'm undecided. 

So today I am celebrating the fact that it didn't happen in the new house (I'm locking the polish up!), and I guess this means I get to buy new bedding. 

Just another day in paradise! 



Tuesday, December 23, 2014

half-baked / it's getting real

20 weeks today. Going. So. Fast.


Amazing!

Ammon giving the baby kisses.
We are force-teaching our children to learn patience and self control by making them wait until Christmas Eve (tomorrow) to find out if they will be having a baby brother or a baby sister.

Logan is convinced that it is a girl.
Madison wants a boy. (Direct quote: "A girl will change my life.")
Grant is positive it's a boy.
Ammon says something different every time we ask him.

What do you think?

Monday, December 15, 2014

getting our craft on

Last week Madison was given an assignment to research Jane Long, write a short biography, and create a biography bottle. 

(I am going to go ahead and not rant and rave about how school projects=parent projects. I'm not even going to mention how annoying it is to have to teach my child how to do a research paper because the only instruction she got was a paper that listed requirements, including a works cited page, which my daughter has never heard of.) 

Madison sat in front of the computer for a few afternoons and wrote a three-page paper in a 24-point loopy font. I helped her format it correctly (much to her dismay; I am so boring) and then read through it while trying to decide just how tough to be on a fourth grader who ends her paper with a sentence that says something like, "...this brave and mysterious woman who was the mother of Texas." (Brave, possibly; mysterious--I think not.) 

Let's move on to the bottle. It is no secret that I detest crafting. Most likely because I am horrible at it. But I love Madi, so we studied some pictures and got to work on her biography bottle. 

This is Jane Long. 

We covered a ball with some fabric and hot-glue gunned everything to the pop bottle. Madison penciled a face onto the head. At this point I left her to give the boys baths. 

15ish minutes later I call downstairs to ask her if she has cleaned up. No response. I travel down the stairs and see her bottle on the TV stand. The bonnet/veil thing we made was covering its face. It was sitting on a note (which unfortunately I threw away). It said something like, "I can't even look at it. She looks like an ax murderer. Why didn't Jane Long smile in any of her pictures? I am going to get an F--, and all of my friends are going to laugh at me. I am not taking it to school. Why did you let me do this?" 

I lift the veil and see this. 

Ok, my day had been long and busy. I was tired. So I saw this and I could NOT stop laughing. I laughed and I laughed. Madison comes in, sees me laughing, and starts sobbing. The boys, hearing the chaos, rush down the stairs, see the bottle, and then they start laughing. Madison cries louder and stomps away. 

Not my finest moment. Actually, I like to think of it as proof that I actually do have a sense of humor. It's due tomorrow, and I think she's going to have to take it just like it is. 

**********

Quick house update. 

House is bricked and almost done. I asked Madi to take a few pictures (we are on good terms again). We now have tiles in the wet areas and lights and doorknobs (no electricity). 

The view from our backyard. For now. 

Stairs

Here's where I would show a picture of the kitchen, except that I'm not happy with it right now. We paid for pendant lighting over our island, but I don't love the lights. Also, they are spaced weirdly and almost touching the countertop. I guess I'm like Madi; I don't even want to look at the picture because it's not how I pictured it in my head! There are a few other items that were not exactly right as well.... I wrote a nice email to our builder; hopefully that will be enough to make some changes. 

Thursday, December 11, 2014

18-ish weeks

We decided to visit Dad's office and take him to a furniture store called The Dump. Apparently they aren't open on Thursdays, so we went to the Galleria Mall instead so that I could show Joe what style of purses I like (he asked me to). 

I DON'T like big gold (or even silver) chains or zipper decorations or metal studs. I also don't like fancy. Apparently I am in the minority. I like my $15 Chinatown crossover purse that stays put no matter how many kids or groceries I am hauling. Unfortunately, my faux leather purse has held too many things over the last 3 years and the faux leather is ripping and running and it's time to upgrade. I found two or three crossover purses that did not have all those metal pieces and were just plain leather with some pockets. They were nice, but more casual and practical. That's more like it. 

We stopped in at the Coach store and the lady at the front was complimenting Ammon and then asked if I would have more kids. I explained that Ammon was my fourth, but the others were at school. There was the awkward one-sided conversation where she said how thin I was after having four kids. I just said thank you to this lady stranger and got ready to leave when Joe, of course, had to tell her I was pregnant. Five kids? Holy what? I'm not kidding. She called the lady from the back of the store--like from behind a door, and who also happened to be 4 months pregnant--to tell her I was pregnant with my fifth kid. Awkward. They just kept talking and asking me questions and then finally Joe and Ammon walked out and I said, "Welp, they're leaving. Gotta' go!" One more reason why you should never go anywhere alone! 

(Side note here: the most marvelous response I have ever had was when I was 7 weeks pregnant and at an urgent care. I had to tell them I was pregnant, and when the dr asked how many kids and I said 5, she said, "What a wonderful blessing!" So the next time you hear something surprising, use that phrase.)

We stopped at a Jamba Juice. I seriously don't know if we've had one since we lived in Rexburg, and I was surprised they had them here in Dallas. They've changed a little and we couldn't find our old favorite, which means we will need to keep experimenting for a new favorite. 

Joe wanted to take a picture while  we were waiting for them to blend our drinks.  
So here I am, 18 weeks. Feeling pretty good. Not too tired. I need to eat ASAP in the morning or I feel like I'm going to pass out. The baby is moving a lot; kids (and Joe) will be able to feel him/her moving very soon. Next week we will find out the gender. We'll probably tell people this time. Eventually.