What is it about babies?

What is it about babies? What is it about these little, helpless, toothless creatures that pulls us in faster and stronger than any other force in nature?

Our family loves babies, we always have. Being the oldest of five kids and each of us being so many years apart, it seemed that there was always a baby around. As we grew older those precious moments obviously slipped by, until our own sweet children were born. Each baby, whether our own or a niece or nephew, is loved and doted on beyond comprehension. Each with their own personality: Maddie seemed like she could see right into your soul, Paige cautious and brilliant, Isaac the snuggler, Abby was determined from day one to convince us all she was no baby, and the current center-of-attention: baby Corbin.

At six months old and with a noggin similar to Charlie Brown's, his charm demands your attention. He somehow reminds me of his cousins. He has drastically changed his mother from carefree to protective mama bear. When his daddy walks into the room they each light up upon eyecontact. We (especially me) act like complete idiots in attempt to seek his approval. Why does my voice go up an octave when we're in the same room? Over the last couple of weeks, our visits have the entire family jiggling our heads to provoke the same from him, in what we've labeled 'Bobble-Head'. What's so cute about that? It's the most adorable thing you've ever seen.

On this night, after 1/4 of our household has left for our new state up north, it really drives home the fact that once again these precious moments with the nieces and nephews and our own are quickly slipping by.

Close Call

As a parent, I have a lot of fears. Those who know me would categorize it as textbook paranoia. Some of those fears literally take my breath away. So we do everything we can to protect our sweet children: seatbelts, bike helmets, knee pads, and so much more. It's not enough.

Yesterday Maddie was 20 minutes late getting home from school. Come to find out, she was helping some woman in a car with a lost dog. Could that be any closer to the stereotypical kidnapping that we've all been coached on throughout our lives?

For those of you who haven't yet become a parent, I have news for you: it takes less than a second for every horrifying scenario with a tragic ending to play out in your brain.

Thankfully, she's home safe.

We have had countless conversations, even Family Home Evenings on this exact subject. We have talked and talked, but it obviously wasn't enough.

You can imagine how the rest of our evening played out: tears, hugs, more thoughts of what could have been. Re-hashing with the "bad guys could have nice cars" or "pretty women could be bad guys", reminding her and Isaac what to do if someone grabs them, offers them candy, or tries to convince them that their parents don't love them anymore.

It feels like I've failed my kids, like we didn't do enough. Thank goodness we have the opportunity to do more, teach more, love more, learn more, protect more.

College Bound

A very special pat-on-the-back going out today to my youngest brother, Jamesson.

After recently taking the PSATs, our 16-year-old sophomore has received 9 letters from colleges around the west: Whitman & University of Denver are just a couple names I heard tossed around this weekend when I was visiting.

He's a good boy. Very involved in boyscouts. He calls himself a 'bandgeek'. He does play several different musical instruments.

He's the typical youngest child, but with four nieces and two nephews, he has taken on the role of uncle well. After all, he was only 8 when Maddie came along.

I'm proud and excited to see where this academic road takes him.

Jamesson has his heart set on attending Berkeley, but my question is: when your father is Republican, is that an automatic rejection letter?

Phenomenal Laundry

One day last week I washed & dried a load of whites, a very ordinary chore in any household. But this time something amazing took place, something that only occurs once, maybe twice in a lifetime: all of the socks mated up! Every single sock found it's friend. It hasn't happened since, maybe never again. Is this some kind of sign?

Is He a Team Player?

Have you ever gotten to know someone, and because of their mannerisms your gaydar convinces you that they're playing for the other team, only to later find out they're engaged or shagging someone else's wife?

1.) "Rob" was a former co-worker who was the kindest, sweetest, most fashionable guy. Sirens going off? He turned up engaged a few months after I thought I knew him.

2.) A former "delivery person" was way into his daughter's dance performances, even dressed in drag for the big winter recital. He must have thought the two of us were 'buddies' because he shared details about his trysts, including a weekend roundevous in S.F. with his high school sweetheart.

3.) Mr. "WardFor" the biology teacher who was constantly harassed by students that thought he was queer. Truth be told, he was a husband and father, just a regular family man.

Are our sensors on overload, or is it getting harder to tell?

Road Trip

In the last five days I have sat in the car for 2400 miles...WITH MY PARENTS! While most of you would try to escape after mile 100, we had a wonderful time. The four of us: me, my husband, and my mom & dad were on an "adventure". Maddie & Isaac accompanied us for two of those days, but they were fortunate to stay with the aunt at her house of toys (air hockey, foos ball, ping pong, etc.) for the other three. When the four adults were on our own, we had great, in-depth conversations. Tears were shed, feelings purged, and many, many stories were told. We saw great countryside as we traveled through four of the western states. We saw quaint towns, frozen rivers, and homes in the most desolate of places. The weather could have been worse, but on Sunday we did struggle with fog, wind, ice, snow & rain. We saw just one accident, and different varieties of road kill. But the best part, aside from the success of our trip, was the friendship that was shared by the four of us. Early on we joked that mom & dad should take a road trip with each of the other married daughters (minus children). But as the days went on, it seemed logical and appropriate. What better way to converse and work through emotion than to be sitting together in a moving vehicle in the middle-of-nowhere? What are you going to do, get mad and WALK HOME FROM IDAHO? Hitch-hike home from Montana? No, you're going to express your concern and love and frustration and happiness and fears and excitement and unsureity to people who love you unconditionally while you take in the majestic scenery (ok, Nevada wasn't majestic).

We're Crossing the Continental Divide

We'll need to check in again next Tuesday. By then I'll have 2,000 car miles notched in the dashboard and will be completely insane. I'm sure there will be plenty to report. Please continue on to learn about my obsession with food.

Ode to Food

Note: the following is not to be read on an empty stomach or if you are dieting.

I am food oriented. Unfortunately most of us are on my mom's side of the family. That's a whole other blog of worms.

When I scrapbook, I always find myself journaling about whatever we ate at the event. "We BBQ'd steak, for dessert we had...". I'm pathetic.

I've turned into that stereotypical "woman in 30s", obsessed with chocolate. But it really can improve my attitude and outlook.

When we get together as a family, it's even worse. They all love food, too. Not to mention: my parents can really put on a meal.

The following is a list of my favorites, just in case any of you want to make your way into my heart through my stomach...

1.) Brownies. Not from scratch, out of a box. This weekend I topped my brownies (yes, plural) with my mom's berry cobbler.=)

2.) I can eat my weight in spinach dip, but only with the highest quality of the sour dough bread.

3.) I make (and eat) awesome enchiladas.

4.) If weight gain wasn't an issue, I'd regularly eat chocolate chip cookies for breakfast.

5.) Speaking of breakfast, I make a layered pile of cholesterol that's quite tasty:

bottom: hashbrowns

middle: cheese (tons)

top: eggs

bonus: sour cream.

6.) Just about any Italian food, but honorable mention goes to spaghetti and raviolli. Our family makes raviolli from scratch, even served them at my wedding. I always O.D. on Parmesan cheese.

7.) A Twix candy bar is great for my nerves.

8.) Unfortunately, I love fast food, specifically Taco Bell and Burger King.

We used to eat a lot of Carl's Jr., but I've been boycotting for a year and a half because of their commercials.

The list is long, and full of carbs. I will put a bookmark here now that I have stirred your tastebuds. Have fun with your rice cakes.

I am Worthless

In the theme of be-everywhere, do everything...

This weekend was a fiasco. A FIASCO!

1.) I stood up my in-laws. I don't just mean hubbie's parents, but also his siblings, their spouses, nieces and nephews...a housefull. On Friday they all gathered together for one of the last hoorahs before our move to the "midwest" (I'll continue to nickname, I'm working through this). Trying to juggle my family and the inlaws, I stood them up. By the time I arrived, they were heading home. Gosh!

2.) Then, on the day of not just a big family dinner, but also the big Eagle-Court-of-Honor I was no help to mom. She never complained, even made the brownies that I was supposed to. When things were in disarray (to put it mildly), I knew that it was mostly because I couldn't get-it-together enough to organize and offer support to mom's busy day. The woman was on her feet for many hours, yet I couldn't even muster up the thought process to cut and serve cakes and brownies.

My brain is overloaded, therefore, turning to mush. Mush I tell you. Over and over again this weekend, I found myself in the middle of conversation stopping mid-sentence. The words would not come. My inner thesaurus froze. My mouth refused to engage with my thoughts.

In effort to resolve this, I will

a.) not allow myself less than 8 hours sleep (that's more than JP gets in a week).

b.) not take on any assignments, requests, special favors, etc. I'd just screw them up anyway.

c.) eat lots of chocolate. Let's face it, a simple Twix bar caused my mood to swing in the proper direction in less than 30 seconds this afternoon. BTW: if that doesn't work for you (or someone you know), try 2 Twix bars. Then chase it with a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. No, I'm not high.

d.) take in all that 'American Idol' has to offer. I use to feel sorry for these people, but COME ON!

e.) (last but not least) inevitably humiliate myself on this blog by indulging some personal information that is inappropriate and possibly R-rated. This is me: barf out only the biggest of secrets. That will make it better.

PS Then it snowed as we drove over the summit at 10pm last night.

Stand in Line

We've been talking a lot about passing judgement in various blogs. I passed judgement today.

When the line at the drive-up teller was too long today, I decided to take the deposit for work inside. There wasn't a wait in the business line, just an elderly couple. They didn't wrap up their conversation with the teller at my approach which frustrated me. As a matter of fact they talked for a few minutes. It went on long enough for me to be annoyed that this anciect woman had on no bra under her sweater, and I was thoroughly disgusted with the gold-hoop belt around her middle. The old man was wearing old-man-clothes, topped with a blue, 70s blazer.

I decided not to put on my annoyed face, but it might have appeared anyway. The teller is a nice guy, I didn't want to be too snotty.

FINALLY they left. The teller offered a little explanation, almost like an apology. He informed me that they were both 92 years old and had been married for 70 years. As if that's not impressive enough, this part floored me: the old man was a piano teacher at Julliard! All of a sudden, their extreme tackiness turned to charm. As I passed them in the parking lot, husband helping wife into their car, I was overwhelmed with the greatness I had been standing next to. Like he was a celebrity. Like I could have absorbed some of his ability, his history, his stories and it would magically come out my own fingers and turn me into some prodigy.

So I greatly misjudged my tacky old man turned musical genius. Another lesson learned.

Not a Convention in This Town

Sometimes it's the little things that I get a kick out of. This time it's a really, really little thing, but it really cracked me up.

Part of my responsibility at work is to make hotel reservations for our guys out in the field. Often it's a small town that I've never been to, and if there's not a brand-name hotel in town, it's a leap of faith, and I just hope that our guys won't be sharing their bed with insects or rodents. One day, I actually had the reservation clerk screaming at her dog to quit barking during our phone conversation.

But I really had a good time with the reservations I made on Monday. "Ken" was heading to southern California, I mean way down there to an Indian reservation not far from the Mexican border. He called in around 1pm to let me know where he would like to stay. I set out on my task, and called the Holiday Inn Express only to find out that they had 'just given out their last room'. Likely story. The second hotel (with another easy-to-recognize name) let me know they were booked until March. What the heck? Who wants to stay in this little po-dunk town south east of Palm Springs? So on the third attempt, when the girl told me her hotel was also booked I figured there must be a convention in town. I'm not sure why, but the real reason all of the hotels in town were booked up really gave me a chuckle: she told me they were filming a movie in town.

So now I need to get over myself and call back to find out which movie and what celebrities are filling up this town. Until then, in my imagination, it's Jenn but not Brad. I can't come up with a male lead worthy of being her co-star.

I Need a Nap

I didn't get enough sleep last night. I went to bed at a reasonable time - 10(ish). But with all that's going on, my overloaded-brain kept waking me up, either in panic over all that I have to do in the next six weeks, or in panic over a nightmare.

Through my off and on slumber I would try to calm myself down. I'll fill you in on one of my tricks. THIS IS THE HONEST TRUTH: instead of counting sheep when I'm struggling to get back to sleep, I count the kids in big Mormon families. A substantial benefit of being Mormon. So last night I counted the members of the Heaps family. Sometimes it's Jensen's, sometimes it's Limary's. But last night I counted Heaps, and since I was having a really hard time calming down, I included spouses and children. No, they don't hop fences in the fashion of sheep.

Yesterday I was able to be excited and have a positive outlook on this trial called moving. But without enough sleep, emotions are closer to the surface, and it's harder to put on a brave face.

Sometime ago, a dear friend suggested sleeping pills. My panic and lack of sleep are only going to increase as I get closer to move-day. Should I risk addiction so that the next 6 weeks can be more functional, or should I just 'make-do'?