Category Archives: big plans

The Get-Up Before the Go-Time

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Sav here, reporting live from eastern Idaho.

Milly and Pal were in our neck of the woods earlier this week. They asked if I wanted to be kidnapped for one last hurrah as a one-child mom, and I was like, “um, obviously”, so here we are. Poor CK has been left at home to his own devices, which include but are not limited to excessive Cafe Rio intake, a pile of chores, and strict instructions not to watch White Collar without me, on penalty of death.

It’s been a blast already. Future plans include the zoo, the lake, a jaunt down to Utah, and probably several trips to Costco (as per usual). CK’s family is just so fun to be around; I still don’t know how I lucked out this much.

So, I’m a major idiot and failed to realize that the plans I’d made with Fraulein were in fact for yesterday and not this coming Thursday — lucky for me, Fraulein is used to my fallibility and very sweetly offered to drive out of her way to meet up with me here in Pocatello. Seeing her. Was. Awesome. I had the best time chatting kids and life plans and feminist theology with her. We didn’t get any pictures together because see above, I’m an idiot. After she left, Roxy commented that we are obviously kindred spirits, and I’d have to agree. Thanks again, lady! Let’s not let so much time pass before our next meetup.

For most of that afternoon, the gals and I watched Chip and Rocket run around in their birthday suits and play in the sprinkler. Man, being a toddler must rule. At one point, my little sir dropped a popsicle RIGHT on his bare man parts and was very understandably upset. Being the sympathetic mother that I am, I rinsed him off while laughing until actual tears rolled down my cheeks. Ohhh mercy.

Isn't Rocket just yummy?

Isn’t Rocket just yummy?

He cracks me up.

Chip just cracks me up.

Life is rough.

Life is rough.

There *is* going to be a lot of driving this week, so cross your fingers that Moose doesn’t decide to turn my cervix into a trampoline en route. At least not any more than he already has.

One last word: Today is Jargo’s 23rd birthday. Happy birthday, ya filthy animal! I love your face and all of you.

What are you up to this fine Friday?

Currently listening to: Mirrors by Justin Timberlake

I Don’t Know About You, But I’m Feeling 32

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As of today Moose is officially 80% cooked. So, like, al dente, maybe? Sure.

Anyway, he’s large, and so am I. Everyday tasks are becoming more of a challenge. Because when you have a live, squirming, possibly-octopus the size of a jimaca residing atop your bladder (aside: what the hell is a jimaca?), nothing doesn’t feel awkward. Except maybe lying naked in bed with eighty pillows around you and a fan blowing full blast. That feels totally natural.

Lugging this cumbersome carcass around has lead to some pretty sad/entertaining moments for any flies watching from my wall. For example, you should see me attempting to clean up Chip’s half-eaten chicken Dino Buddies from the floor. It’s akin to watching a cross-eyed polar bear ice fishing, only WAY less graceful. The amount of growling is probably the same, though. Oh, stuff on the floor. We hates it, precious.

You should probably not ask me when the last time I shaved my legs was, either.

All things considered I’m feeling pretty great. Shhh, don’t tell the folks at the clinic, but I may have tapped into the cache of Xyrem I had squirreled away from when Chip was a newborn and sleep was a long-forgotten dream. (My OB/GYN is fine with it.) I feel like a new woman. Also my hair is fabulous and my skin is looking less like pizza and more like skin.

This past Sunday was nice. Mother’s Day is an uncomfortable time for me for reasons too gloomy to get into, but darned if CK and the ward didn’t do their best to make it a lovely day. I slept in, ate lots of sweet things, and watched Doctor Who with my dearly beloveds. What did you do?

A major highlight of my life is that bff Pixie is coming up tomorrow and we’re spending all weekend together! YES!! It appears that my plea for visitors is finally being heard. Not that this means the rest of you are off the hook (ahem, Fraulein.) Anyway, we’re gonna party it UP (fifteen-year-old-hyping-on-his-Twitter-style) and do us some serious pampering. With treatments! At a real spa and everything! Which will probably be weird because the fanciest I ever go is a yearly haircut and having Roxy shellac my erstwhile visible toenails. Gah. I am so excited.

And now for my favorite picture of the moment. Can you believe how grown up this little poser is looking? Neither can I.

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You know I can’t resist saying it – have a happy hump day! Go get yourself some Ben & Jerry’s or something. Moose recommends Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. It’s his favorite.

Currently listening to: Cruise (Remix) by Florida Georgia Line feat. Nelly

The One in Which CK Hates YouTube

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So … evidently somebody out there in the internet wilderness was really determined to find “narcolepsy cartoon” on Google Images. Somehow they found their way to my blog and spiked the daily views up 350%. Okaaaaay.

I’ve gotten to this magical point in my non-Xyrem-ness that if I sit down and hold still for too long (e.g., to check Facebook or other equally reliable news sources), I’m at serious risk for falling asleep. This has happened twice when Chip’s been awake, thankfully for less than five minutes, and I totally freaked out each time. Fortunately (and suckily) for me, I have a fourth sleep study on Thursday. UGH. At least this time I’m tired enough that I’m confident their stupid test will show I have narcolepsy once and for all. If not, well. Let’s not count our demon chickens before they hatch.

I’ve learned that constant physical activity helps me stay alert. Thus, to prevent further World’s Most Negligent Parent moments from happening, I’ve taken on a whole slew of DIY projects for Moose and Chip’s nursery, including a handmade mobile, a refinished second-hand changing table, and a set of awesome deco shelves rescued from Goodwill. (I’ve also singlehandedly kept the distributers of Diet Dr. Pepper in business, but that’s neither here nor there.) I’m excited to show you guys my probably very amateurish but well-intentioned handiwork when it’s finished. Chip is excited to see how many dirt clods he can get away with eating while we’re both outside but I’m distracted sanding things.

CK has nervous feels about me putting videos of Chip online, so I’m afraid the epic Gangnam Style clip I recorded is unavailable to you for now. Too bad. It’s fleeping hilarious. Probably worth a trip out to see it in person, just saying. Here’s a picture instead. (Also, follow me on Instagram if you’re into that kind of thing: username savjay)

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I know, I know. He’s perfect. Whatever. I’m over it. (Not.)

Have a great weekend, y’all! Ex oh ex oh.

Currently listening to: Madness by Muse

P.S. CK really wants you to know that he titled this post himself, after the manner of a Friends’ episode, but with better grammar. Take that and run with it.

Dear Baby Moose,

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(It’s a play on words of Chocolate Mousse, see? Ha, I’m hilarious.)

We’ve been getting to know each other better lately, now that you have ears and detectable movements. Conclusion: I think you’re pretty neat.

I love you like Mormons love Netflix, casseroles with cream of chicken soup, and the phrase, “I’m grateful for this opportunity”.

I love you like I love my new license to say, “Chip! Quit donkey kicking your brother in the face.” As he does.

I love you like Julian Fellowes loves killing off his characters in absurd ways.

I love you like my bank account loves the fact that you’ll be born in exactly the same season as your big brother, meaning I won’t need you buy you a single article of clothing unless I want to.

I love you like I love laughing at all the wasted chicks on The Bachelor.

I love you like I love Chip’s new obsession with Gangnam Style (video to follow).

I love you like drugstores love selling Easter candy two months before the holiday. (Obviously CK bought a lifetime supply of Cadbury Mini Eggs. Obviously they’re halfway gone. Obviously my OB told me I gained 10 lbs since my last appointment in January.)

I love your wiggles and squirms. I especially love that you can’t reach my ribs or cervix yet. Ay carumba.

Moose, you’re fun. Can’t wait to meet ya, bud. Until then, though, I’m gonna enjoy the occasional nap while it’s still possible. No offense!

Currently listening to: On Top of the World by Imagine Dragons

I Got the Blues

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Aaaaaaand Baby Jay #2 is a…

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MALE!

For some reason it makes me giggle to say that rather than “boy”.

We are over the moon! I’ve often said that Chip needs a good wrasslin’ buddy (even though he’s more inclined, like his father, to play quietly and appropriately in the corner. I don’t get it). Plus, I’m not gonna lie, CK and I are like *pros* at baby boys at this point. Perfect our vroom-vroom car noises? Check. Point the penis down when changing diapers? Check. Get really good at giving frequent high chair haircuts? Check. We know all the tricks.

You would think that seeing him up there on the screen would make this business feel more real, but I swear, now that I’m feeling better I forget I’m pregnant ALL the time. With Chip, I obsessed about things constantly and spent every waking second naively trying to plan some aspect of motherhood … HA. With this guy, I’m like, “Oh yeah! You’re in there! I love you. Umm… it’s not bad if I just ate like a crap load of seafood, right?”

In fact, I found THIS totally applicable link recently, and it made me laugh really really hard. Sorry for the swears.

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Look at this big bro. “You give me a sidekick, I give you a dead leaf. We are even.”

So that’s the news. I feel like everything from here on out is just one more big waiting game. Pity – I almost always suck at those.

Love to you all!

Currently listening to: What Makes You Beautiful by One Direction (I regret nothing!)

Life Since 25

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My birthday was on Thursday, and it was great. My dashing spouse gave me a Clairsonic Mia, a fancy dinner, and a cold. Perfect.

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I have truly fallen in love with my teaching assignment at church. The girls are thrilled beyond words by the penny candy and dorky Mormony handouts I supply each week (and, you know, the valuable life lessons), plus they think everything I say is clever and hilarious. The entire Senior Primary sang to me last week and gave me a Happy Birthday sticker. Too legit.

Speaking of church, Chip went to his first day of nursery yesterday. He did a killer job. CK and I both peeked in at him between classes, and he appeared to be having a jolly ol’ time, playing with new toys and sitting on the teacher’s lap like he’d known him forever. No separation anxiety for this kid – should I worry, Miss A?

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Chip “colored” this, too. As far as his mother is concerned, it’s the bloody Sistine Chapel.

Have also recently discovered the merits of chewing Dubble Bubble. I’ve had a crazy sweet tooth this pregnancy, and let’s just say that the level of candy I was consuming on a daily basis was getting alarming. Until I had this awesome idea! See, the flavor lasts about as long as it would take to nosh a Sour Patch Kid, but instead of jacking my glycemic index, I’m just rotting my teeth. It’s a much better way to kick the craving. Because, like my growing midsection needs any extra help.

Speaking of which, the big ultrasound is on Wednesday! Am I excited? Meh, well, you know, no big deal, WAIT YES I AM. I can’t wait to find out if we get to reuse all our boy expertise and too-small “Mommy’s new man” onesies, or if we’ll need a crash course in managing double x chromosomes before they get big enough to wax their eyebrows and buy mini skirts. (Ack.) Plus, I love the bit when they show you all the organs and bones and tell you how gorgeous your fetus’s alien face is. It’ll be fun. Stay tuned.

Anything exciting going on in your life?

Currently listening to: Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

We Made It!

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Look guys! It’s Sunday! Nobody’s crying and nobody’s dead! It’s a modern day miracle.

I’m now settled comfortably in my little room at the sleep clinic, as least as comfortably as one can be with several zillion wires attached to their person.

We strive to provide you with unfiltered hawtness here at The Capital L.

We strive to provide you with unfiltered hawtness here at The Capital L.

Fraulein says I’m supposed to update y’all about my talk in church. It was fine. I explored the topic of Christlike charity using this speech from last October as a reference. I wrote the bulk of it early in the week, so I had only minor tweaking to do yesterday and this morning. Good thing, too; I’ve reached the stage in my drug withdrawal where I spend all day oscillating between uncontrollable trembling (but otherwise feeling okay) and uncontrollable sobbing. Neither are conducive to great writing. Thank All Deities Everywhere that the most obvious manifestation of my struggle today was that I talked much quicker than I would have liked. I couldn’t help it. My teeth were chattering, but not from nerves. (Such an odd sensation. Gah. So happy that this nonsense will be over in less than 24 hours.) CK did a wonderful job giving his talk, which he was so unnecessarily worried about. That man is brilliant at everything he puts his mind to.

I also had my first day on the job teaching the eleven-year-old girls. I’ll be teaching them every Sunday and once a month in my home (for Activity Days). It was actually really, really fun. The former teacher stuck around to show me the ropes today, but next week I’m on my own. I think it’s gonna be great. MUCH better than that time CK and I were thrust unawares into our first family ward’s nursery, completely abandoned, left to fend for ourselves approximately two seconds after we got married. (And then that was in the top three reasons why we moved to OP2. Remember that? Ha.)

Well, the nice lady has come and hooked up my O2 and pulse oximeter, so I guess it’s time for lights out. See ya on the flip side.

Currently listening to: You’re Gonna Miss Me (Cup Song) by Anna Kendrick

This Place About to Blow

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Confession time! You can tell because I have marked the blog category called “confessions”.

I’m having a series of sleep studies done on Sunday and Monday, and to ensure their accuracy I’ve had to go off some very vital medications for the past week and a half. It has not been pretty. Mama be cray-zay. Shall I paint you a picture? Let’s just say that I’m extremely proud of the fact that I haven’t yet run over anybody in my car, either accidentally via withdrawal dizziness, or (more likely) by surrendering to the deluge of unchecked anxiety/hatred chemicals now coursing through my bloodstream.

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Ah, psychiatry. It’s always humbling to be reminded that without modern medicine and encapsulated SSRIs, my brain would rapidly short circuit into bonafide rage spaghetti. (It’s like normal spaghetti but with less marinara and more cussing.) I’m not the biggest fan of these reminders. They make my inner control freak squirm.

And it’s only gonna get worse! I’m writing this today because it’s the last day before I have to be off all my drugs, except those required to keep my fetus alive. That means no designer date rape drugs for Sav. That means NO delta wave sleep. I can’t guarantee that come Sunday I’ll have the wherewithal to locate my computer, much less type on it. Good thing I’m also slated to speak in church that day, huh? Halp.

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Guys, I’m already an ornery, spacy pregnant lady. What’s gonna happen when I’m that AND a b!tchy zombie?! Thank goodness CK will be there to watch Chip most of the time. I can’t guarantee I won’t accidentally try to feed them boiled matchbox cars for dinner.

Perhaps things wouldn’t be so tricky if it were one symptom or another. I’d take sleep deprivation over constant About to Snap-ness any day. At least inappropriate mid-conversation snoring doesn’t threaten to wear down your marriage until it’s dangling by a sad, angsty little thread. (Not as quickly anyway…?) Dees ees not the case with “mood swings”, which, btw, sounds hilariously benign.

rage fragonard

Nah. Neural pasta time is a freaky roller coaster ride no loving spouse deserves to be strapped to. One minute I’m bellowing at my husband for leaving a single dish in the sink. The next minute I’m clutching my knees in the shower, shaking and hyperventilating because what if our next child is born with something like severe autism or three heads and oh my gosh I am a terrible person for saying I don’t want that but GAH it’s all just so scaryyyyyyy!

As fate would have it, for one reason or another CK’s already been forced to witness several between-meds moments. Yet he’s still here! Over the years we’ve found some effective ways to cope with all the panic-rage that accompanies those moments. I call them my “kieselguhr activities”. If I’m able to do one before the clock goes BOOM, then all is well. Crisis averted. If I’m not quick enough … well.

Some of these activities include:

  • Watching inane video clips
  • Doing something stupid to make Chip laugh
  • Giving in and letting CK hug me
  • Eating something delicious
  • Playing loud music and dancin’ like a fool (mid-2000s My Chemical Romance is especially effective)

With a list like that, I can make it four and a half more days, right? If I can at least stand and deliver on Sunday morning without getting *too* finger-waggy and controversial over the pulpit, I will be exceptionally pleased.

Hope all of you have an effortlessly wonderful weekend!

Currently listening to: Dead! by MCR

Round Two

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I’ve sucked at blogging lately. Let me cut to the chase here – I’ve been growing another person, and he or she is sapping all my energy to do much else than keep Chip alive. That’s right, friends. In just a few short (LONG) months, we’ll be debuting the newest member of this here little Cap family!

We are thrilled, and much more relaxed this time around. Apparently that’s what happens when you successfully make one on purpose. Plus I got to experience the whole peeing on a stick thing, which was exciting. Ha.

I wasn’t lying during this post; I’m only 11 weeks along. Which means this little bean is due around the second week in July. Apparently I forgot how much I loved being a manatee in the dead middle of summer.

Huh. Two kids in two years, and I made a “salad” for Thanksgiving in which the main ingredient was Cool Whip. Wow! It’s like I’m a real Mormon now.

With the fatigue has come wicked nausea, sciatica, and some pretty gnarly intestinal problems, all of which serve to remind me how much I truly hate first trimesters. On the worst nights I find myself questioning whether I REALLY want three kids after all, or if I can learn to be happy with just two. Unrelated side poll: What do you guys think are the odds of my body spontaneously producing twins if I think really, really hard about it?

I’m so grateful for that forthcoming mom-nesia. Way more powerful than any obliviate spell. It helps too that my sisters-in-law keep having gorgeous babies (a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my beautiful niece, Cleo, born yesterday afternoon!). There’s nothing like a new gummy smile to keep the ol’ ovaries firing full throttle. You feel me, fellow moms?

Chip of course has no idea what’s going on, but he’s a good sport about me lying on the couch and reading him stories instead of getting down and wrestling like usual. CK is an angel. At 6 o’clock when my nausea is at its worst and he’s fresh off of work, he’s there with a smile, a dirty joke, and a forgiving dinner budget to make it better. What sweet boys I have.

These next few weeks before the relief of second trimester are gonna be tricky. I beg you gentle readers to offer some diversion in the form of funny stories or links. There’s only so many rounds of Solitaire I can play on my phone before even THAT begins to trigger my gag reflex.

Love to all of you!

Currently listening to: Bring a Torch, Jeannette, Isabella by Mannheim Steamroller

Reporting Live From the Wasteland of Central Idaho

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We, the Clan of Jay, are currently trekking our way toward Pocatello, where awaits the promise of that time-honored Idaho tradition — shooting animals and eating pumpkin desserts. In other words, it’s huntin’ season, y’all!

CK has not shaved for a week and is under strict instruction to kill the largest elk he sees. Of course, I’m sure he’ll be more concerned with breaking in his newly tricked-out .22 than stocking my freezer with meat, but a girl can dream.

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Chip’s excited, too.

I’m also blogging to remind you that Disney is *still* capable of giving me the wrong idea about healthy romantic relationships. I cite ABC’s Once Upon A Time. It’s bad enough that they tried to feed Toddler Me the line that your dreams will magically come true if you do nothing but sit around and whine about your lot in life (incidentally, I hate Cinderella in this new adaptation, too), but now they’ve tricked me into becoming captain of the Good Ship Rumbelle (Belle from Beauty and the Beast + Rumpelstiltskin). It sounds weird because it is. But trust me — Robert Carlyle is so freaky talented, he makes the hygienically challenged baddie seem oddly sexy. Maybe it’s just me. Anyways, it’s a fun show. We like it. You might, too.

Enjoy yourself, Cap Family! For what it’s worth, I’ll try to be back soon.

Currently listening to: Little Star by Jim Brickman