Adjusting

For those of you who don't know, JL got a new and amazingly better job that he started at the beginning of this month. Like, we actually get health insurance that doesn't just cover preventative medicine, i.e. yearly check-ups. Everything in our home has been much happier since the beginning of the month, mostly because when Husband is happy, Wife is happy, and when Wife is happy, Mom is happy (duh), and when Mom is happy, Walter is happy.

Anywho, one of the perks of the new job is that we get freakishly cheap gym memberships to Gold's Gym, including daycare. This has required a little bit of adjustment for Walter. First, because we try not to leave him with other people unless we're going on a date. Second, because when we have left him with people, it's usually someone that he knows really well. Since the cute daycare workers rotate, there is a 90% guarantee that each time we drop him off, someone new will be in charge of his age group. Hence, adjustment. After three weeks, I am happy to say that I did not get called out of my Turbo Kick class, Walter was not crying when I left him, and he was not crying when I picked him up. This means that for one hour a day, six days a week, I get Me time.

And that is a beautiful thing.

there was an epic battle

It involved Walter. And something sticky. And his hair. We solved it the best way we knew how. By making him look like this guy.

Going to the chapel and I'm goooonna get marrrr-r-r-ied...

JL got in bed last night and I had a total breakdown. Instantaneous, hysterical sobbing for thirty minutes until I noticed that I had literally soaked through his shirt. Why do men put up with us crazy ladies?

My poor husband, completely unsuspecting, happily walked into our bedroom last night to go to sleep, and I went psycho, teenage drama on him, crying and hyperventilating about the most retarded things. And what did he do? He pulled me close and rubbed my belly and wiped away tears. Without complaining that I was keeping him awake after a full day's work and school. I finally understood all those crazy commitment ceremony people.


I need to redo "marry" this man. After I'm not hugely pregnant with his child.

Adorable note: He also wrote a paper for one of his classes on how he could help me not be so stressed out. I am still swooning that this was the most serious local problem in his life, even over the outrageous and growing potholes on I-15.

R is for Reptile

This morning Walter and I briskly walked the seven blocks from our little house to the Provo Library for Toddler Time. Toddler Time is like Story Time, but geared for children between the age of two and three, which Walter is not. But Mother Goose, the story time for children between 13 months and 24 months, only happens Friday mornings. And we needed to get out of the house ASAP.

Mr. Dallin and Mrs. Laurel were just what the doctor ordered! We sang songs, Walter danced, we pretended Mr. Dallin got eaten by a boa constricter...all in all, a morning well spent.

Now, if only I had more suitable weather to continue my nursery remodel. But it is just a bit too frigid to try and paint beds, the chest of drawers, and the bookshelf.