4am

It's 4:40am. My little monster woke me up...she's been teething the last while and no longer sleeps through the night. If you didn't know, I was blessed with one of those unheard of babies that was pretty much born sleeping through the night. When she was brand new, I actually had to wake HER up to feed her. I don't know how you other mother's do the waking up 3 times a night thing. Staying up late is one thing...but I do not like getting woken up. Now it's 4:43am and I can't sleep. So here's what I'm thinking about...

I just went to comment on someone's blog and the first comment that was already there was by "Jennifer." That's my name too, but when I post comments it says "Jen R." Anyways, Jennifer/Jen/Jenn/Jenny/etc. is a very common name and this sounds really stupid but every time I see a comment written by any form of my name it startles me and I think maybe I left that comment...then I have to read the comment to make sure I didn't actually write it. Sometimes my brain forgets I'm an intelligent person.

The hubster picked up an extra shift for tomorrow, actually today, it starts in about 3 hours. So including his regular shift he is about to work a 25 hour long shift. No that wasn't a typo, 25 hours long, is that even legal? While I should be feeling bad for him I'm actually feeling bad for me. And I'm dwelling on the fact that all our married BFF's grew up and moved away from the bubble leaving me here with a husband that is working for 25 hours straight and no friends. So sad.

I just went to check on Adelyn, when she went back to sleep I put her in bed with Jared and they looked really cute snuggled up together so I decided to take a picture. But the flash woke Jared up and now he's angry with me...and the picture didn't even turn out cause he threw up his hands to block the flash.

This is turning out to be a really lame post...but it is 4:51am and I suppose I should go back to bed.

Raging Hormones

My husband insists that my body is more vulnerable to it's own hormones than other people are to theirs. For example, when breastfeeding your body produces a small shot of oxytocin (the love and cuddle chemical...it's the same one produced during an orgasm but in a much smaller dose.) Anyways, every time I'm breastfeeding, if my husband is sitting next to me, I look at him all doe-eyed and tell him how much I love him. At first he thought it was sweet, but then he realized that it was happening every single time and realized it was the hormones talking.

The week after my baby was born, while attending church with the in-laws, the ward choir was singing. Maybe no one else has had the same experience with ward choirs but there have been very few times that we have encountered a good one. Usually there's the old woman singing way too loud in what sounds like an opera voice, only like 4 men (who usually sound better than the women) and the choir director always seems to pick a really hard song that goes way higher than anyone can sing, and even though there are only 12 people, the song has 6 different singing parts, meaning 1 high soprano (the old opera singer) 2 sopranos, a bunch of altos, one old lady and one man singing the tenor part and then the rest of the men singing base.

OK, well my husband and I, being the mature individuals that we are, usually giggle and poke fun when the choir is particularly awful. Well it was this week that we heard maybe one of the worst choirs ever. So they start screeching, my husband starts poking me cause he's giggling but when he looks over I'm bawling my eyes out. He asks the obvious question and through my tears I blubber "It's just so beautiful!...I mean they have to know how badly they sound, but they love the Lord so much that they don't care, they just want to sing!"

If you've never had a baby or a wife or close friend that has just had a baby, let me sum up the first few weeks after as raging hormone central. Luckily, I don't think I really experienced any postpartum depression...but I was still a mess. If I was happy, man was I happy. If I was sad, oh goodness I was sad...and don't ask about when I was mad. Usually no matter what mood I was in I still ended up in tears...happy tears, tired tears, laugh so hard you cry tears...I think you understand.

I could give some other examples but those ones are a little more negative (think PMS for example) and would not cast a pretty light on me...so we'll just end it there. I'm terrified to think about what I'll be like when I go through menopause someday. Poor poor husband.

Driving Compatibility

There are all types of drivers on the road.

• The safe driver: goes with the flow of traffic, fully stops at stop signs, doesn't tail gate, no tickets, no accidents, signals before lane changes and turns


• The aggressive driver: drives 5-10 miles above speed limit, sometimes tailgates slower drivers to get them to go faster, changes lanes to go around slower drivers, rolls through stop signs, perhaps a speeding ticket or two


• The crazy driver: flips people off, flashes brights, constantly speeding 10-20+ over, uses horn frequently, doesn't signal while zigzagging through slower traffic, runs red lights, doesn't even slow down for turns, weaves in and out of carpool lane regardless of dashes


• The overly cautious driver (paranoid): drives 5 under, signals 20 yards before making turn, does NOT go around slower traffic, afraid to make left turns onto large/busy streets, freaks out when they see a merge sign


• The idiotic driver: constantly cutting people off, drives next to cars on freeway (creating a wall so no one can pass), speeds up when they see you trying to merge, comes to complete stop before turning, uses wrong signal, doesn't signal or signals way too soon, or completely forgets to turn signal off, drives slowly in the fast lane and doesn't move over for faster traffic, etc.

Jared is a safe-borderline paranoid driver. I'm an aggressive-borderline crazy driver (minus the roadrage parts). Here's the thing my husband and I have learned. Driving compatibility is kind of important in a relationship. It's like the only time we fight.

Jared is driving

Jen: "Jared the speed limit is 65, you have to go at least 65."

Jared slows down 5 mph

Jen: "Please go at least 65!?!?"

Jared ignores Jen, Jen gets mad and tries to push his knee down on the gas pedal

Jared: "Stop telling me how to drive!"

Jen: "You always tell me how to drive!"

Jared: "No I don't!"

Jen is driving

Jared: "Jen you're going 85, you can't go over 80"

Jen slows down to 81, a few minutes pass

Jared: "You're going 90"

Jen: "I can go 90 cause that car is going 95, if there is a cop they'll get pulled over and not me."

Jared is driving

Jared needs to turn left out of a parking lot on state street (6 lanes)

Jen: "Go now!"

Jared doesn't go

Jen: "OK go after the white car"

Jared doesn't go

Jen: "Pull into the turn lane then get over when it's safe"

Jared: "I'm going to turn right and go around."

Jen: "No! That's so far out of the way."

Jared: "Do you want to drive!?"

Jen: "Yes, I do"

Jen is driving

Jared: "You're too close to the car in front of you, slow down."

Jen: "No, they're in the fast lane, they should pull over to the right lane or go faster, I'm teaching them the rules."

You get the picture?

Enjoy!

Frogger made by Neave Games

You're Gonna Miss This

My sister introduced me to this song a while ago but I just found it again while organizing my iTunes and I wanted to share it with everyone. Jared is watching TV, Adelyn is laying on my lap and I've got my ear phones in and I totally started to get all emotional. He probably thinks I'm crazy. But I'm not, it's just a really touching song. The message is so true...and also right in that we never know until it's too late.

It makes me so nostalgic. I'm thinking about 6th grade and how I wished my parents would let me wear make-up and shave my legs. I'm thinking about middle school and wishing I was in high school. I actually remember being jealous that Aunt Flo visited my friends before she visited me. Then I think of being in high school and thinking that the world revolved around me and being so excited to apply for college. Then suddenly I'm in college out on my own living with six girls. I had the time of my life. I had the funnest friends and was always out on dates. But at the same time I was in such a hurry to get married.

Now I wish I had had a few more years that I didn't have to shave my legs every day. I wish I had played a little longer in middle school when I was still young enough to get away with it. I wish I had listened to my parents when they asked me not to have a boyfriend so young. I could have learned three languages with the time I had wasted on boys and wanting to grow up. I wish instead that I had made better friendships. I wish I had spent more weekends home with my brothers and sister and my parents. I wish I had been nicer to my mom instead of being an angry teenager. I wish I had appreciated everything more. I wish I had given school a little more attention. I love my husband to death, but every now and then I think about never going out on a first date again or having a first kiss. Or having six crazy roommates. And now I have my beautiful Adelyn and I think about how Jared and I never got a honeymoon...and probably never will.

I don't mean that I'm not happy where I am. I've actually never been happier. I just wish that I had not been in such a hurry to get here. I look back and look at what a wonderful life I've had so far, what a great journey it's been getting to here and sometimes I think maybe I missed it. I know that doesn't make sense, but I feel like it does. I was always looking forward, and never enjoying what was going on where I was.

It's funny too cause now I feel just like the girl in the song. I'm sitting here in my tiny old house. The foundation is so bad that our entire house has shifted so far that the cupboards don't shut and the doors scrape the floor when you open or close them. And I catch myself wishing it was ten years from now and we had a little money and a new house and a new car and all of these silly things that aren't even important. But then Adelyn crawls up to the couch and smiles at me. And I can't believe she's already so big. And it terrifies me. Before I know it she'll be sixteen, resenting me and wishing she was eighteen and could get out of here. And now I want to freeze time and try to remember every single detail.

I guess to make a long story short...enjoy life now. Don't be so consumed with moving on that you miss the ride. Life isn't very long when it comes down to it. Sooner than you think you're going to be 100 years old, alone and wondering where your life went. Don't miss the joie de vivre!

Underage Gymnast Cheater(s)

I just need to vent a little about the upsetting Women's Uneven Bars final tonight.
FIRST OF ALL: Nastia and He (the tiny Chinese girl) had the same difficulty score...He definitly made more visible mistakes than Nastia (she didn't even stick her dismount and Nastia did) and yet they tied??? I understand this was not the Chinese cheating, but a display of blind, biased and/or lamoid judging.

SECONDLY: I get that it is the computer that breaks the tie with the ranking system or whatever...but why was He ranked above Nastia...the All-around Gold winner? Doesn't that mean she is...ranked 1? And even if this isn't true and the ranking system is totally fair (I really don't know how this part worked)...they had the same score for difficulty and one did clearly better than the other...so like I already said...why was it ever a tie!?!? We shouldn't even be worrying about the stupid ranking thing...

LASTLY (the part about the cheating): He is only fourteen years old! Why is she even competing??? They learned there were several possible underage girls on the Chinese team right after the Team Competition...why haven't they taken away the Gold for that? And even if they never do that, why are they continuing to let her compete in more events!? All the professionals agree that in the uneven bars event, being younger (smaller/less weight) is a huge advantage...so I wonder why the only three underage girls were all competing in the uneven bars.

Side note: What was up with the other Chinese vaulter who landed on her knees and still managed to medal?

It seems the Olympic committee should probably reevaluate the judging system they have for gymnastics.

Update:

My dad called me tonight to tell me that he had just programmed my name into his new hands-free blue tooth cell phone thing (he's in California, so no more cell phones while driving.) He was excited that all he had to do was say my name and his phone would call me. Anyways, he said he was reading my blog (Mom and Dad haven't figured out how to leave comments on my actual blog yet...one step at a time) and didn't like that I had generalized the French thing. So this is to make Papa happy:

Dear French readers,

I'm sorry that I said you are all arrogant. I realize that was a huge generalization. I do know that not every single person of French decent is arrogant (just like not every single Chinese olympian is a cheater). There are many kind and humble French people and many kind, non-cheating Chinese people. I also know that there ARE many arrogant and cheating Americans. However, I still think that Alain Bernard shouldn't have been talking trash and I still think that He Kexin is an underage cheater.

Love,

Jen

"Alms for the poor..."

While we were loading all our stuff into the car after we were done shopping at the Walmart on Tuesday, a somewhat scary looking man walked up to us and asked if we could help him out because he hadn't had anything to eat or drink all day and he didn't have any money. I didn't have any cash, but I did have some change. So I offered that (it ended up being about 2 bucks) and then he told us to be good parents to our "little nino" (definitely don't know how to put the little squiggly above the "n" in nino and yes I'm aware he called her a boy) because the little ones are going to save our world. Then he said, "God bless," and moved on to the next car. Later that night while I was at school, it came up that I had given him some money. That's when a school mate said in an almost disgusted tone, "I never give them money...I know they're just going to spend it on alcohol or drugs anyways...and I don't want to support that."

I have actually never really thought deeply about this topic. And it wasn't until that moment that I realized how I felt about this. I'll admit, I'm not the type that's out trying to save the world. I've never been an advocate for any big cause. But one thing I can say is that every time I've had the means to help someone out, I usually do it. During his speech at my wedding reception, my dad told a story about when I was 4 or 5 years old and on a family vacation I saw a homeless person for the first time in my life and was really concerned about it. I ended up asking him if I could give the homeless man the money he had given me to buy a souvenir. I've done that every time I've had the opportunity since then. But I've never thought what happens after the fact. Being the self-absorbed person that I am, I usually just go on my way feeling good about myself for having done a good deed.

Well, I now know my position on giving money to those desperate enough to ask strangers for money. I will continue to do it and I will do it gladly. Whether they spend it on alcohol or the food they say they need it for, it doesn't change the fact that I helped. I figure I'll do my part and leave the rest up to them. And besides, who am I to assume that every homeless person in America spends every cent they get on drugs or alcohol? What if they really are starving and you are their only hope of getting a meal that day? What if they have a family somewhere starving too? That's just too many if's for me to worry about, so I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and just give what I can, whenever I can. If for no other reason than for the karma points.

F.Y.I. I titled this post "Alms for the poor..." because when I was typing this it made me think of the Disney version of "Robin Hood" when Robin Hood dresses up like a poor old man with a walking stick to hide from the Sheriff. Then he walks around saying "Alms for the poor...alms for the poor..." shaking his coffee cup.

The Girl Gets Around

This...

Usually leads to this...

So my question is this: To let fall or not to let fall?

She's almost 7 months old and ALL OVER THE PLACE! Developmentally speaking, this is a good thing. Concerned parent speaking, not such a good thing. She currently has a scraped nose from falling from the TV stand and a bruise on her cheek from falling onto a hard toy. Jared and I are in a current debate. To let her fall or not. You might be surprised who is on which side. When Jared is watching her, every time she climbs up the couch, the TV, her swing, the computer table, or whatever it is, he runs over to help hold her up in case she falls. Or he grabs her and puts her back on her bottom in the middle of the floor. At which point she crawls back over to where she was and climbs up again. I, on the other hand, usually just let her go about her exploring unless there is an obvious danger. My thinking being that she's never going to learn not to fall if we don't let her fall. This might sound insensitive, but I don't want my children to be wimpy or afraid. Usually when she falls, she doesn't get hurt...just a little startled and she looks at us and gets an unsure look on her face. So I smile really big and clap my hands and say "Yay...fun!" And then she smiles back and continues playing. But Jared runs over, scoops her up and says "Oh no, are you OK!?" And then she cries on Daddy's shoulder..."Oh Daddy, it was awful, I fell down and Mommy doesn't even care!" I actually think that if she were a boy Jared would be more on my side. A wimpy girl is one thing...but a wimpy boy? No way!

People, if you are a parent what did/do you do? Or if you plan to have kids how do you think you'll handle this?

Some thoughts to consider:

• If at first you don't succeed, dust yourself off and try again.
• Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow."
• The only people who never tumble are those who never mount the hire wire.
• The successful man will profit from his mistakes and try again in a different way.
• Try again. Fail again. Fail better.

And if you're wondering why my child is naked in all of these photos, click here!

I am a Spontaneous Idealist

Click on the little SI circle to read more about my personality type and to find out what your type is. It doesn't take very long and I think it got me pretty close. And if you do take the test, let me know what type you are so we can compare and contrast!

To grown up Adelyn, incase I am dead.

Between the teething, letting my baby sleep in (cause I was tired and she didn't wake up) and the too late of nap cause I'm "one of those moms" that doesn't do the whole schedule thing (I figure if she's hungry she'll let me know, if she's tired she'll go to sleep...wait it gets better, I let her sleep in my bed too!) she finally went to sleep and has stayed asleep. I realize that was probably one of the longest sentences ever, but I'm tired and my mind is wandering. Well earlier I was frustrated that she wouldn't go to sleep, so I tried to do the thing where you put them in their crib and let them cry themselves to sleep...but it was breaking my heart so I gave in and gave her another mommy snack (milky, milky) at which point she went to sleep. While she was crying and I was hiding in her doorway battling on whether or not to rescue her, I started thinking about the first time I heard her cry. And I realized that I have never documented her story...like anywhere, not just in the e-world. And while the chances of me forgetting it are slim, the chances of me dying or something terrible and never being able to tell her are not as slim (I get morbid late at night) and I don't think it's something her daddy or grandparents would be able to tell as well as me. So this is for Adelyn and whoever else is interested...if you aren't, simply stop reading...now.

Jared and I were married November 25, 2006 (P.S. I'm so sleepy I just typed in the wrong date...but then I realized and fixed it!) in April of 2007 I found out that I was pregnant. Let me make certain that you understand, you were not an accident. That word is so offensive, and when people ask that I want to punch them in the face. You, my dear, were a wonderful surprise. Yes, I may have been on birth control...but from the second I peed on a stick and a little digital "Pregnant" showed up, your dad and I were nothing but thrilled. Here's the thing...you can plan your life out however you want...but life is still unpredictable life, and Heavenly Father wanted you here with us on His schedule, not ours. And suddenly I'm 5 months married and in my first trimester of pregnancy.

You know those women that glow with pregnancy and love gushing to people about how much they love being pregnant? I was not one of them. About 4 weeks pregnant I got very sick. The throw-up fairy visited me 8-10 times a morning/day/night (whoever named it morning sickness must not have done much research.) I spent about a month in bed throwing up and living on crackers and prenatal vitamins. If it were any other time I would have been happy to lose 16 pounds but I don't think that's supposed to happen when you're prego. But don't worry, first trimester ended and the sickies magically disappeared and I gained back the weight (plus a little more!) The rest of the pregnancy went quite smoothly, except for nasty acne and dry skin, the massive heart burn, aching back and ribs, not being able to breath, no sleep third trimester, and one trip to the hospital with horrible stomach spasms (it ended up being a case of the squished intestines...no big deal!) I also had a bad case of "nesting" and had a beautiful nursery, closet full of clothes, stash of diapers, baby gear galore and every other baby necessity ready for your arrival long before you were here.

By the way, at nine weeks we had your first ultrasound. Your little hummingbird heartbeat was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard...and you were the prettiest little sea monkey I had ever seen. (The night before this appointment I had a nightmare resembling the episode of "Friends" when Rachel can't see her baby in the ultrasound.) I was also very relieved to find out you were not a twin! At 18 weeks, we had your second ultrasound. At which point you looked more human and they told us you were a girl! Through misty eyes I began daydreaming of clothes and shopping and dance lessons and cheerleading and all sorts of mother-daughter bonding. Daddy, quite frankly, was set on having a boy first. But when the doctor announced "It's a girl!" rather than disappointment, I watched him melt from a big tough manly little boy's dad into a soft, protective, gentle doting little princess's daddy. Never in the history of the male universe has a man fallen so quickly and deeply in love with a girl he's never even met.

About a month before your due date (originally Feb. 3, 2008, bumped up to Jan. 27, 2008) I started dilating. About 3 weeks before due date I was dilated to 3cm with word that we would NOT be making it to January 27. About 2.5 weeks before due date I was 4.5cm and 75% effaced. So they stripped my membranes (OUCH!) and sent me home with a guarantee that you'd be here within the next 24 hours! A week later (still a week and a half before due date) and 5cm dilated 90% effaced and not a single contraction yet...they stripped my membranes again (DOUBLE OUCH!) and said if you're still not here by Monday (it was Friday) they'd be inducing me Monday morning. Still no contractions, so we wake up bright and early Monday morning (to a snow storm) and make our way to the hospital. It's January 21, 2008.

I arrive at the hospital dilated to 6cm and 100% effaced and the monitor says I'm having contractions a minute apart...but I still can't feel them! My friend/old King Henry "roommate," Kallista, is my nurse. She starts me on Pitossin (I probably spelled that wrong) and an hour later (and a few little contractions) I'm a little more than 7cm and the doctor comes and breaks my water. Then the contractions really start! My mother, who had all 5 of her children naturally, has convinced me that I can do this the "old-fashioned way." Let me tell you this, I handled it like a champ! I didn't cry, I didn't scream, I didn't say a single cuss word. I just wanted to be left alone. I didn't want my husband to touch me, I didn't want my mom to ask if I needed anything, or for Rebekah to ask if she should leave :) I just wanted to curl up in fetal position, close my eyes and make really weird whine/dog whimper noises. I had made it four hours since we started the pitossin and I was dilated to a 10 and well...I just couldn't handle it anymore. "I'm ready for my epidural now!" Two more hellish contractions and then...heaven! Now it's a party! "How's everyone doing!? Me, I'm fine! Jared my leg just fell off the bed, can you please just toss it on back up? That's perfect thanks!"

It's time to push. Nurse said it'll probably take another two hours. Half hour and a couple pushes later baby is completely crowned and she says, "Stop pushing! I gotta go get the doctor..." He comes, legs in stirrups, one more push, baby is out, and I hear you cry...and then I'm crying and I'm laughing. He cuts the cord throws you on my chest and I see you and I hear you and you're looking at me and you're breathing...and you're the most beautiful thing on Earth. I'm in love. Then the nurses whisk you away and you never leave Daddy's sight while they clean you and measure you and swaddle you and finally give you back to me. Then Daddy gets to hold you (and he swears you smiled at him.) Then we're in a different room and you're bathed and dressed and a million other people hold you. And we tell them your name. Adelyn, cause we like it, and Noel for my Nana Bartholomew, who you never got to meet but I'll tell you all about her later.

Suddenly it's night time and all the visitors are gone and Daddy had to go to work and it's just you and me. I'm sitting in my hospital bed and I'm holding you and we're looking at each other and it dawns on me. You are mine. I am a mother. I am your mother! And I've never been happier in my entire life. I wish I could describe every thought and feeling in that moment...during that whole day and the last nine months. Not to mention the almost seven months since you've been here. But I could never do it justice. All I know is Jared and I went from playing house...to being a family. And I became who I was always meant to be. The thing that I am better at than anything else I've ever tried to be, your Mommy. And even if my morbid tired thoughts did come true and I'm for some reason not here anymore, never forget that I will always be your mommy. And there was never a little girl who was loved more than you.

My Little Pony

This is probably going to embarrass my husband but it's worth it.

Today we went to Walmart to do a little shopping. Adelyn was in her seat in the cart and Jared was pushing the cart. I told Jared to hang on while I went to grab something real quick. Rather than waiting, he took the cart and kept going. I didn't have my cell phone with me and I couldn't find him. After a few minutes of searching I found him in the sporting goods section. In the cart I found an airsoft gun (a toy for him) and I was a little mad...tight budget here. But then I looked again and I saw something he got for Adelyn. He randomly decided to get her a toy...but not just any toy, it was a pink My Little Pony. It's the first thing he has ever bought for her and I thought it was so cute that he, being a manly man, got her a pink pony. I asked him "How did this get in the cart?" and he kept saying he didn't know. But then he admitted that the toy section is next to the sporting goods section and when they walked past she reached for it (keep in mind that she's almost 7 months old and she reaches for everything she see's). And so he just had to get it for her.

All I know is that our little girl has him so wrapped around her finger at 7 months...I don't know what's going to happen when she can talk! Just think of her looking up at him, batting her long eyelashes, smiling her big beautiful smile and saying "Puhlease Daddy? Pretty please with cherries on top!?" I just know he's going to cave every time. Oh well!

P.S. Jared just yelled to me, "Jen, can you come shoot me in the back so I can see how much it hurts?" He's obviously enjoying his toy too!

French Arrogance

Tonight I was lucky enough to witness a great American moment. I don't know how many of you have been watching the Olympics, but hopefully you were able to see the Men's 4 X 100m Freestyle Relay Final that took place earlier this evening (our time). Because it was greatness!

Before the race Alain Bernard, of the French team, came out with a statement saying, "The Americans? We're going to smash them. That's what we came here for."

Well here's to you Bernard!

The US team of Michael Phelps, Garret Weber-Gale, Cullen Jones and Jason Lezak stuck it to the French with a victory by 0.08 seconds..."smashing" those pesky French boys and the world record.

The US and Australia were head-to-head for the first 200m. During the third 100m leg France pulled ahead. On the final leg of the relay, Monsieur Bernard had a body length head start (at least) and kept his very comfortable lead until the very end...almost! In the last 30m Jason Lezak caught up to and passed that cocky Frenchman by a hand, winning for the US!

Jared and I were so happy we jumped up in celebration. Jare picks me up in the air as I throw my arms up in victory cheering for America! Yelling "Eat that France!" Our jubilance is so great that in the commotion we don't even realize we have totally scared Adelyn to tears. So he puts me down and I pick her up and the three of us dance and celebrate to the music of the cheering crowd buzzing from our ancient television set. Oh, France we loathe you!

Which reminds me, remember when that other jerky French soccer player, Zidane, totally head-butted that Italian player during the World Cup? If not, check out the clip below.

America rules and France....doesn't! ha ha ha

PS. If you're going to ask why, if I dislike the French, is my very own blog title French, here is my answer... Beautiful language, beautiful land...but everyone knows they've got something up their rear ends.

No shirt, No shoes...No Worries!

I just thought everyone should know that I live in a naked house.

Ok, we're not actually in our birthday suits. Jared and I sport our religion and Adelyn wears a very sexy white Pampers diaper. Considering the fact that it's like 100 degrees outside and we don't have air conditioning I'm sure you won't judge us too harshly. During the late afternoon and early evening when it starts to cool down outside, all the heat of the day seems to be trapped in our little house and it's actually hotter inside than out. I mean we're not that weird...we're just melting.

We're quite happy in our naked house...until someone knocks on the door. Then Jared and I very quietly look at eachother and hope they'll go away. After they knock again we wonder if they can hear the tv. Assuming they can, we then look around to see who has clothing the closest and will have to open the door. It's usually me. When Jared gets home from work, he usually takes his clothes off at the back door where he comes in...I, however, walk all the way in...passing the bedroom and then take my clothes off in the family room or in the bathroom. Adelyn is only 6.5 months old and pretty much never gets dressed unless we take her somewhere. (Which if you ever look at my facebook pictures will explain why she's always naked.) But even if she did have clothes nearby, I think you understand why she's exempt from having to quickly get dressed and answer the door.

Anyways, when Jared got home from work today there was a reminder on the door that rent was due. This is usually my job, but I begged him to take it. My argument being that he was dressed and I was not. If you know my husband you'd know that he's not the most outgoing guy and taking the rent means awkward interaction with the friendly manager. So rather than just giving into my whining, he decides to take off his sports shorts and put them on me...then does the same with his shirt. (Like he literally dresses me while I pretend I can't move my body...and we're laughing really hard.) So now he's in his g's and I'm wearing his clothes. So I walk over to the manager's house and finding that she's not there leave it in her mailbox (so Jared could have just done it!) As I'm doing this, this man holding a baby walks up to me and asks if I know of any men that can come help him push his stalled car out of the street. I say, ya I'll go get my husband. So I run back to the house and tell Jared he needs to get dressed cause someone needs his help! I frantically take his clothes off of me and throw them to him and he puts them back on while I find something to put back on me. Adelyn is still hanging out in her diaper. All of this takes only about a minute. I (naked Adelyn in hand) then lead him down the street to where the man is waiting. Right as we walk up we see that a different man has stopped his car and is already helping. So we turn around and walk back to the house...stripping, of course, as we walk in. We're so white trash...

About half an hour later the FedEx guy knocks on the door...insert expletive here.

We're considering hanging this on the front door. J/K!

Contagious Yawning

"A yawn is quite catching you see. Like a cough.

It takes just one yawn to start other yawns off."

-Dr. Suess

Have you ever wondered why yawns seem to be contagious? If you haven't ever noticed this, next time you're with a group of people take a big yawn and see how many people yawn after you. In fact, I bet just reading this might make you yawn. I've yawned like three times already since I started writing this. I tried to do some yawn research and it seems that all the professionals agree that no one is certain why we yawn.

Some of the theories:

• Our bodies need to expel excess carbon dioxide
• Lack of oxygen in the blood
• May simply serve to stretch your jaw
• May cool off your brain
• Boredom, Fatigue, Drowsiness
• Regulates pressure in the ear drums
• Some psychologists believe that it's the bodies natural way of releasing intense or negative emotions, much like crying or laughing
• The deep inhalation during a yawn is means of preventing alveolar collapse within the lung

Some interesting yawn facts:

• The average yawn lasts 6 seconds (which is coincedently how long the average male orgasm lasts)
• We begin yawning as early as 11 weeks after conception
• Heart rate can increase as much as 30% when you yawn
• Some birds, reptiles, fish and most mammals yawn
• Pandiculation is the act of yawning and strecthing at the same time
• Yawning really is contagious: there is a strong social empathy component to yawning, which is why many autistic children don't yawn when others do
• Yawns become contagious to you between 1-2 years of age
• The more glutamic acid, serotonin and dopamine in your brain, the more you yawn
• The more endorphins, the less you yawn

So how many times did you yawn?

Back Commenting

So I've been thinking about this very important subject. Sometimes when people leave me comments on my blog, I have something I'd like to say to them in response. Sometimes I comment after their comment on my own blog...but then I think, even though I'm a little bit stuck up and think my blog is the most important thing in your lives, in reality you probably don't care so much about my blog that you would actually come back to the same post to see if I responded to your comment. But then I thought about how I'm a blog stalker, and, I'll admit, sometimes after I've left a comment that I'm especially proud of (you know because sometimes I come up with some pretty good stuff) I have gone back to see if the blog author or anyone else appreciated my comment as much as I did, and at times I have noticed that some other bloggers do comment back on their own blogs. I have also observed that some people, after receiving a comment on their blog, then go to the commenters blog and respond to that person's comment on that person's latest post, even if it doesn't have anything to do with the latest post. I have tried this technique also but still don't know what is the appropriate form of "back commenting."

I'm starting to think that if blogging is going to be such a big part of all of our very awesome lives, someone should probably tell me what the blog related social rules are so that I don't make any huge blogging faux pas.

Mommy!

Dear Mom,
Happy birthday! I wish we could have been there to celebrate with you, but hopefully Dad, Kari, Chase, Rory, Oprah and the new Rusty took you to dinner or something nice. I just wanted to say thanks for being a wonderful Mom. Being a new mom myself, I'm learning on a whole new level all that you have actually done and sacrificed for me and the rest of your family. I have also loved growing up and getting to know you better as not only a daughter but your friend. I love being able to call to ask you questions or advise and I also love calling just to chat. I hope that you are happy and know that all you have done and do does not go unnoticed. You are a wonderful, generous, intelligent, smart, strong, hard working, beautiful lady and a great example for me. I can't wait for Adelyn and my future babies to go to Nana's house and learn and play with you and Dad. I love you and I hope you had a great birthday!

P.S. Your present wont be ready for a while but the picture below is a little hint for you!