donate a treadmill to my cause?

Yesterday, I got a letter in the mail from my gym, 24-Hour Fitness. Since I joined the gym in January 2007 -- yes, I was a New Year's resolution joiner -- my quality of life has increased. I feel so much better about myself when I exercise. I attribute my relatively easy pregnancy and delivery to the fact that I exercised regularly during pregnancy. Of course it tapered off toward the end, but I was on the elliptical machine just 4 days before Wesley was born.

When I joined, I got an "all clubs" membership. The membership counselor told me I could go to any gym in the world (important later), and that was pretty exciting. If I did go to Jamaica on vacation, I don't know if I'd want to work out, but I had the option. I used the gym in Everett, Wash. (my "home gym") and the gym in Seattle. Then came Wesley and maternity leave, so I "froze" my membership. I was mapping out my plan to get back to the gym, when this letter came in the mail.

I knew they were planning to open a new fancy gym elsewhere in Everett. I figured out the new gym would be nowhere near where I live, so I ignored the prominently displayed posters and bulletins. The Everett gym is a bit outdated and hokey, but whatever. I take pilates classes and use the elliptical and call it good. My gym is called a "24-Hour Fitness Sport" club. There are wimpier clubs, "Express" clubs, but the Sport is the cool club, with a pool.

Well. The new fancy-pants club is a "Super Sport" club which is even cooler. But, like I said, I don't care because I'm not driving 20 minutes to get there. Except, the letter in the mail tells me, they are closing my gym because the new gym is better, and if I want to upgrade my membership to visit the new gym I can pay $10 more a month.

WHAT? Totally ridiculous.

1. I have an "all clubs" membership, so this doesn't apply to me, right? Wrong. I have an "all clubs SPORT" membership. I think 24-Hour Fitness restructured the classification of their gyms, and back in '07 (so so so long ago), the "all clubs Sport" was all I needed since most gyms were those. But now there are new fancier clubs popping up like weeds. And I have to upgrade to an "all clubs Super Sport" to use them. Baloney!
2. Why close the dinky gym? The way I see it, they are FORCING me to upgrade.

Luckily for me, I can bypass all this madness since I live halfway between the Lynnwood gym (a Sport, thanks to the blessings of heaven) and the now-defunct Everett gym, so I can just use the Lynnwood gym. But what about my pilates class? That enticing kickboxing class? Everyone's favorite stair-stepper in the corner? Things of the past.

I'm just disturbed by all this. GRR! I'll use the Lynnwood gym and be fine with it (or else I'll save my dues money and buy myself an elliptical and some pilates DVDs), but the principle of the matter is just so unnerving. Why close the dinky gym? Let the snobs who need the new equipment (or the folks who live next door to the hot new gym) go be super sporty, and leave the rest of us in peace.

My boss' gym in downtown Seattle closed down, too. She went in on a Wednesday and saw a sign saying they were closing on Friday. Her gym was also a little outdated, with '80s decor or whatever, but it was still a decent gym. Her theory was they closed so all the people who have had memberships there for years and years, i.e., "grandfather" members with low dues, were now forced out. She speculates a new gym will go in the same spot in a few months, offering her a membership for twice what she paid. Kinda like what's happening to me.

My dad likes to complain about what he calls "back-door" price increases. Case in point:

What you see here is the new container of Edy's (or Dreyer's) ice cream. Breyer's is doing the same thing. Back in 2002, they went from 2 quarts (a half gallon) to 1.75 quarts -- without changing the price -- and as of June, they are rolling down to 1.5 quarts. Again, without changing the price. Does this totally bug anyone else??? If you didn't read the size of the container or read it in the paper, you wouldn't know. It's a deliberate back-door price increase.

And, since I'm in the mood to vent, what is the deal with The Seattle Times? They increase their home delivery prices every 3 to 6 months. I hate it. If they were to increase their price by $2 once a year, I'd say "ok, they have to increase their prices. I get it." But instead, they increase their prices by 50 cents FOUR TIMES A YEAR. Does that strike anyone else as odd?

Ahh money. We could probably complain all day about different things. These three all hit me at once and I felt like I was going to topple over from sheer frustration. I mean, messing with a girl's ice cream? Who does that and gets away with it?

with all the gaining, gain wisdom

I heard once that everyone should hold the following jobs at least once in his/her life:

• Telemarketer (or some kind of job that requires you to call people unsolicited)
• Grocery store clerk
• Waiter/waitress

I feel successful because, ta da! I have done all those things.

I think this all started since the primaries were last week. I had a good friend call last Sunday, and I answered the phone all suspicious-like, since I doubted it was actually a real person. I thought for sure it was someone from the state Democratic committee or someone telling me to approve the levy or someone telling me not to forget to vote (how could I forget? You call me every 6 seconds!) My friend was a bit offended that I was wary of her call, and I reassured her, "oh, because I didn't think you'd be someone I actually wanted to talk to. But you are!"

PLUS, for some reason, some company keeps calling asking Shanester to do a phone survey. He says no every time, and they seriously are still calling every day.

I love phone surveys, I do. The only problem is that when you complete one survey, your name is put on this whitelist of "easy suckers" and sold to every other phone survey company, and they call relentlessly. Shane has a tendency to be a little mean-spirited to the survey people, and he says, "stop calling me at home and get a real job!" I take offense to that, since it's nothing personal when they call you, they are merely doing their jobs, but he says otherwise. When we were in college, Shane had a job at a phone-survey-caller, and he says he is thankful for people who were rude to him on the phone, since it caused him to hate his job, quit, do well in his education, and get a real job. He says if everyone was nice to him, he would still be doing phone surveys. I say he's full of baloney.

I had to do phone surveys for a couple of my classes at BYU, and it was just awful. We had to use this "table of random digits" or something, which meant I had a page full of numbers. Column 1 was the page of the phone book I'd turn to, Column 2 was the number I'd count down from the top, and then I'd call that person. It was a "truly random" survey. And people would ask me over and over, "how did you get this number?" Since I was doing the survey for school, people were mostly nice to me, but I hated it. Although, it encouraged me to be nice to phone survey people, didn't it?

As for the other jobs, I also was a grocery store checker. It was awesome. Even today, I wish I could bag my own stuff at the grocery stores since the guys there seldom do a good job. When I see someone doing a good job, I really compliment them. Tetris people, tetris. If you've played tetris on your Nintendo, you know how to bag groceries. Be smart about it! Doing that job gave me insight into the world of grocery stores, which every single one of us frequents. To this day, I try to pre-sort my groceries on the belt so the cold stuff gets bagged together, the boxes get bagged together, etc., since that is what I'd do as a checker.

I also was a waitress. It was a freaking awesome job. Waiting tables teaches you to multi-task, remember details, put on a happy face when you really don't want to, deal with all kinds of people, and work hard on your feet for long hours. I loved it. I'm totally a social person, so I had a blast. I even had a friend who was a super amazing server (that's the PC term), and he told me once he always had low self esteem and decided to become a server to get out of his shell. He was amazing, and was really good with people. Waiting tables was good for him! I'd probably still be doing it, but the 8-to-5, M-F desk job -- not having to request weekends off -- is so so appealing. (There will always be a special place in my heart for the Olive Garden. As its menu changes and the dishes I knew and loved and memorized are phased out, a part of me is quite sad.)

Making phone calls, you learn how it feels to be on the other end of the survey. Bagging groceries, you learn how it feels to be the person sweating up a storm scanning 55 items per minute while the customer in line stares at you. Waiting tables, you learn how it feels to get a 10% tip when you worked really really hard and brought them extra napkins and cleaned up their kid's spaghetti embedded in the carpet.

I hope you can look at your life and say your jobs provided you valuable insight. I'm glad I had the experience doing the tough jobs as a teenager and working my way through college. I think I'm a better person because of it, really.

Although that doesn't necessary mean I'll keep my cool when November comes around and I get more of those election calls... urgh. But I do tip 20%, if the server keeps my drink filled.

hits too close to home

I'm upset today. I won't be posting any links in this entry, but I want you to understand why I'm so upset. There's been quite a bit of coverage in the press lately about the man who kidnapped Sasha and Dylan Groene and abused them (then killed Dylan), there's been coverage lately about a huge child pornography sting and how even law enforcement officers were caught collecting and distributing, there's been coverage lately about a baby born at home, in need of care, yet left for dead by her parent.

I'm a mother now. These things literally bring me to tears. I cannot fathom anyone hurting a child like that. It's so wrong. They are children. They need us. They trust us. For someone to betray that trust and hurt them is almost unforgivable. I don't know if I could forgive if anything happened to my baby.

Your perspective really changes when you have a little one of your own. He is just so precious. All I can say is that these stories, these people, make me sick.

don't know the answer to this one

An interesting article in the Seattle Times yesterday talked about savers being losers in today's tough market. It was interesting to read, since I could relate to it. I personally haven't been all that "scared" about the collapse of the housing industry or the rise in gas prices or the current state of inflation, and this article kind of made me think about why and how I should feel about it.

It says:

Two giant mortgage companies get into hot water over risky investments. The government steps in to throw them a lifeline should they need it.

Hundreds of thousands of Americans buy homes more expensive than they can afford. Congress approves a rescue package.

Troubles erupt at a Wall Street investment firm that made bad bets on mortgage investments. The Federal Reserve steps in and provides financial backing for the company's takeover.

Meanwhile, tens of millions of people pay their mortgages on time, don't max out their credit cards and put money into retirement funds. They may even save a little extra on the side.

In return, they get rates on their savings that don't even keep up with inflation. They also are witnessing their nest eggs shrinking as the value of their homes plummets and the stock market tumbles.

Policymakers in Washington, D.C., seem more focused on rescuing those who behave badly by putting at risk taxpayers who've played by the rules and shunned the get-rich-quick schemes of Wall Street croupiers.

Hmmm, so since I'm not an idiot, I get rewarded with the short end of the stick? Seriously folks, that is what's happening. These companies/people have made risky investments because they thought the market could sustain it, then they got in trouble because the market couldn't, and now the federal government -- MY tax dollars -- are bailing them out.

We bought a condo (not a house) because we figured we could afford it on one income in case something were to happen, oh like, we had a baby or broke a leg. We got a 30-year fixed mortgage, not a 5-year fixed that rolled into an ARM or an interest-only mortgage, like some people recommended we get, because we wanted to be safe. I had a "friend" who thought I was so stupid for not getting an interest-only mortgage. He reamed me when I told him we finally bought a place and what mortgage we got, since "we'd be sorry" and "real estate has never depreciated" and on and on. Who's laughing now?

Well, maybe he is. If his investments were too risky, maybe he's getting bailed out by the government, which is helping all kinds of overextended people.

Additionally, we save money every month, I shop with coupons, I go to second-hand stores, I never buy groceries unless they are on sale, and on and on. Some friends (no mean to offend!) were talking about baby shoes the other day and how they pay between $17 and $30 for a pair of baby shoes! Oh my gosh! I rarely pay that much for shoes for ME, and I don't grow out of them in six months. They must be some great shoes. (What is the going rate for baby shoes anyway? Any thoughts? I am still new at this.)

Plus, we have a decently fuel-efficient car, I took the bus to work, I just all-around try to be smart about my money, my investments, my savings, my future.

But, since life isn't fair, the companies/people who don't try to be smart, and instead try to make a quick buck, get a government bail-out. Boo.

I don't mean to be a party pooper or overly stingy. I just think people need to act responsibly and not expect the government to take care of them with they make dumb decisions. Some people genuinely do need help, and I'm all for taking care of them. Perhaps it's a family who could barely afford a home and because of the interest rates were finally able to get into their first place. Good for them; we should help if they need it. But don't be alarmed if I find out they chose a 3,000-square-foot McMansion with a master bath bigger than my condo and I'm not nearly as sympathetic.

So, what is the answer to this one? Elect leaders who don't support helping people? That doesn't sound right. Not pay my taxes? Not likely. Just get mad, vent about it in the blog, and move on with my life? Probably.

happy happy joy joy

The coolest thing happened today. We woke up and I fed Wesley, then I took a shower while Shane watched him. Whenever I get out of the shower, part of me expects to hear wailing in the background, springing my "mom to the rescue" instincts into action. But, no wailing today. I got all ready and went to the living room, where Shane and Wesley were playing. I asked Shane how things were, and he said "great!" I asked if Wesley was happy, and Shane said, "he's the happiest I've ever seen him!"

It's so sweet that he's smiling and starting to laugh. I love his little personality. We're so lucky to be his parents. I'm glad I get to play with him every day, and Shane gets to experience it too on nights and weekends. (Would that be a "cell phone father"? Although I really appreciate him bringing home the bacon so I'm not complaining).

Also, in unrelated news, another fish committed suicide last night, on the cusp of another one dying of natural causes this past week. For those of you keeping score at home, two fish remain. Sadness.

we're all a little loony....

I'm FINALLY done. Baby is 12 weeks old on Monday, and his nursery is finally decorated. Yay. It all started with the Looney Tunes clock (in the upcoming pictures), which we got from Shane's sister when she moved once and decided she didn't want it anymore. I bet she didn't realize it would be the first element in our baby's themed nursery. Thanks, Bonnie!

I feel a bit like Wandering Nana in this post; she puts up pictures of her decorations at Christmastime. They're always so fabulous! And since I'm so proud of myself and my themed nursery, here it is:

Exhibit A, sweet Wesley on his baby Looney Tunes sheets. I found them on eBay, I got two of them, so we always have one in reserve.

This diaper stacker rocks! It was a gift from someone at Church who knew I was going with a Looney Tunes theme. I love the fabric. I totally wanted "grown-up" Looney Tunes, you know, with the deep blues and reds and yellows, instead of the pastel "baby" Looney Tunes. So this diaper stacker is great. I actually found a stacker on eBay to match the crib sheets above, but I didn't really know what a diaper stacker was when I was pregnant and I forgot about the auction and didn't get it. It's probably a good thing, since I got this one as a gift and the fabric is even better.


The mobile was a Craigslist find. It is like baby magic. No matter how fussy Wesley is, every time we turn it on and he sees the little guys moving 'round and 'round, he is just mesmerized. It's unreal. We love this thing.


Another eBay find. I have a switchplate cover and two plug covers. The cool thing about them is that when I'm sitting on the futon in Wesley's room, I can see the switchplate in the same line of vision as the diaper stacker. The blue is so harmonious. I love it!

The wall was my big project. We had the clock first, but I knew I wanted something more.

On the shelf are eight Looney Tunes finger puppets from eBay. Evidently they were sold at Starbucks on big stick candy canes or something. I bid on a bunch of auctions before I won them. Evidently they are collectors' items. Who woulda knew? I'm actually tempted to cut off the tags. I mean, they are for a baby. I don't think they'll be kept in mint condition.

Also on the shelf is a Looney Tunes photo album, which I have had for years and years. Currently it only has three pictures in it, pictures of us in the hospital with Wesley. I think I'll fill it with pictures of our family, so when he is learning about family we can flip through it and say "who's that?" "Grandma!" or whatever.

Now the shelf...

The shelf and picture frame I made! Well, kind of, I bought a wooden shelf and wooden picture frame. I painted them white, put on Looney Tunes stickers (also bought from eBay!), and decopaged the shelf. Decopage just keeps the stickers on and gives it a nice shiny finish. There are 15 different Looney Tunes characters on the shelf. It turned out so awesome. I'm totally proud of myself. I was hoping to get it done before he was born, but since he was eager to get into the world, taking us by surprise, it didn't get finished until recently.

OK, one more shot...

The bear is from Nicole and the blocks from Keri. I love them! They look great together and go so well with the room and the colors. Keri makes blocks for everyone at Church who has a baby. What a great gift!

Anyway, yay for decorating. Maybe one day, much to everyone's chagrin, I'll do a post detailing my palm tree bathroom?

the rich and famous

With all the Olympics hub-bub I need to share my connection with Michael Phelps. Well, it's not like I ever met him or anything, but I do consider us "connected." He's from Maryland, as am I, and per my mom, who is super observant and always passes on great local gossip, he has a number of friends at Salisbury University, the university in my hometown (where I took swimming lessons for many years, in fact).

Anyway, one fine day a couple years ago, post-Athens, I believe, he was stopped/arrested/charged/I don't know what they call it for drunk driving in Salisbury. As part of his restitution, he had to go speak at the local high schools about driving responsibly. I don't think it's admirable that he was driving drunk per se (especially since he was only 19!!), but I am glad he was fully cooperative, took responsibility for his actions, and then used his fame and prominence to educate people.

There was a great op-ed in the Seattle Times yesterday about the whole John Edwards thing. It's like, people, the world is watching you. DON'T SCREW STUFF UP! If you want to be president, prove to America that you can put the needs and happiness of someone else (your wife who is battling cancer, your children) above your own, which would make us at least partially believe you could put America's needs and happiness above your own. But he didn't do that.

But that isn't what I wanted to blog about. I wanted to blog about my brushes with famous people. I have met a few famous people personally:

• Homer Hickam, the author of Rocket Boys, the book October Sky was based on, who was portrayed in the movie by the super hottie Jake Gyllenhall. He wrote another book and came to BYU on a publicity tour. Very very cool to meet him.
• Brett Scallions, the super hottie former lead singer for Fuel. I won backstage tickets to their concert in Salt Lake in 2002, and it was totally awesome.
• Eve 6, one of the coolest bands ever. I met Max and Jon, not Tony, after a gig in Salt Lake. Since I'm obssessed with them, it was most cool.
• Jimmy Shea, USA gold medalist. I volunteered at the 2002 Salt Lake games in a journalism/PR capacity. My claim to fame was when I covered the skeleton competition. After Jimmy Shea won the gold medal, I had to take a vanpool to another part of the park. It just happened to be the same vanpool as Jimmy Shea and his entire family. I think his mom was there. So me, another volunteer, and Jimmy Shea and a half-dozen of his family members just chilled after he won gold.
• Jon Heder, aka Napolean Dynamite. He took classes for his film/animation degree at BYU in the same building as my communications classes, the Harris Fine Arts Center (or HFAC, which Shane refers to as "Hamburger Flippers After College). I saw him in a few short films he did at BYU, and saw him the hallway all the time. Once I complimented him on one of the short films I saw, and he said thanks. Everyone at BYU is so friendly. No biggie to speak to the future Napolean Dynamite!

Those are the only famous people who I have met personally. Now, through one or two degrees of separation, here are some other famous people I'm connected to:

• Shanester served his mission for the Church in Ventura, California. Marie Osmond, a famous Mormon, was in one of the wards he served in. One day he was watching General Conference at someone's house and she came over. Very cool.
• I have a bunch of Seattle friends who have run into famous Northwesterners, namely Tom Skerrit, Dave Matthews (as in the band!; he lives in Wallingford!), and the late Layne Staley of Alice in Chains. I don't know anyone who knew Kurt Cobain, though.
• The COO of my company once sat by former President Gerald Ford in first class on an airplane.
• Once this developer in Chicago wanted to build the tallest building in the country. It looked like a huge birthday candle; they were calling it the Chicago Spire. Word on the street was Donald Trump was upset about it. One of my bosses at my job was Chairman of this international tall buildings organization (they dictate the standards of what makes the tallest building the tallest and they declare what the tallest building is), and he decided he wanted to talk to Donald Trump. So, I had to get The Donald on the phone. I called the Trump organization in New York, gave my story to three or four people, and finally got to Rhoda, from The Apprentice (which I acutally don't watch). She told me she'd interrupt Donald's meeting and get him on the phone. I felt pretty special. So yeah, my boss and Donald chatted it up for awhile. He said Donald talked very very fast.
• Also, work-related, my company does a lot of work with hot shot architects. Brad Pitt is totally into architecture and has met with a couple of the architects we work with. One of them came to our office once, and I shook his hand. I shook the hand of a man who shook the hand of Brad Pitt.

This is the image that was in People magazine. The guy right under the "oop," in the black shirt, I've shaken his hand.

I just realized I've been talking about Brad Pitt a lot lately. I haven't even seen that many of his movies.

OK that's all for now. If I think of more I'll do a new post. I've totally got stuff to do while baby is napping! Leave a comment if you have met anyone famous, or spyed them at the county fair or the zoo or what. I'd love to know!

anything that reminds of brad pitt...

As I mentioned earlier, I've been listening to a lot of jazz lately on 88.5 KPLU (a community service of Pacific Lutheran University). The music is great to dance around the room with a fussy swaddled baby, bouncing and calming him. But, the other night I realized exactly why I like the jazz tunes:

drumroll

The music reminds me of the Ocean's movies. I love those movies! Well... I guess I have a love/dislike relationship with those movies, since I feel a little devious rooting for the "bad" guys, i.e., the guys breaking the law and hoping to get away with it. It's weird to watch a movie like that. But regardless of my personal morality, those movies are really fun and the jazz adds a definite flavor.

On a related note, I wonder how jazz musicians come up with the names of their songs? I mean, there are usually no words, so to me the song titles are arbitrary. Here are a few of the weirder ones that I've heard the last couple days:

• Watermelon man
• Sweet sucker
• Polka dots and moon beams

Yes, those are names of actual jazz songs.

Anyway, I suppose I'm also feeling the Ocean's 11 vibe since Bernie Mac died, and I need to honor him by watching a few of his films. Another great actor lost in 2008. What kind of strange year is it shaping up to be? I honored Heath Ledger by watching A Knight's Tale every day for a week back in January.

But Bernic Mac, he was fun to watch. I also loved him in Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle, one of my favorites (way better that the first. The first sucks. Don't even watch it). We love the part where he smacks the surfer's stomach and yells "It's grape!" (referring to flavored surfboard wax). In fact, I smack Shanester's belly, yelling "it's grape!," in Bernic Mac fashion all the time. So his legacy will live on in our home.

Ahh, jazz and Bernie Mac. What good are blogs if you can't talk about whatever you want?

P.S. Did anyone understand Ocean's 12? I've watched it several times and I still don't get it. I usually feel the same way about Mission Impossible (the first Tom Cruise movie). Some movies I can watch over and over again and still not get. I don't think I'm clueless... they're just confusing.

fly on the wall

Conversation in our house today:

Angela: (singing to herself): Dancin', yeah! Dancin' yeah!
Shane: (muttering under his breath) You're strange.
A: (exclaiming defiantly) Yeah! Well at least I'm good lookin'!
S: (exiting stage right) That's true.

There you have it everyone. At least I'm good looking.

so much more than just a grocery run

I did it. I survived my first absolute baby freakout at the grocery store.

I was halfway done shopping when Wesley decided he no longer wanted to be asleep. He instead wanted to be awake, wide awake, and screaming, and maybe it would be fun to be hungry. And it would also be fun to gouge his cheek with a fingernail, so he was also bleeding.

So, I multi-tasked. I:

• Wheeled the cart to an empty aisle (sugar/flour and spices, to be exact)
• Dug out the diaper bag from under Doritoes, bread loaves, cans of Progresso soup, etc.
• Used my water bottle to wet a baby washcloth (kept in the diaper bag), to wash the blood-smeared face
• Scrambled to find the pacifier (also in the diaper bag)
• Attemped to swaddle him in his carseat

I got his face clean. That's about it. He continued to bawl and bawl. I darted for the back of the store.

So, yes, that was me, nursing my baby in the corner chair at the Albertson's pharmacy this afternoon. I used an apron to be discreet, but sorry if I offended anyone. I even asked the pharmacy tech -- a male -- if he felt it was inappropriate and he said if I felt comfortable doing it, I should do it. I felt a lot more comfortable doing that than having a crying baby all throughout the grocery store.

That placated him a little bit, but he was definitely done with the grocery store. Unfortunately, I wasn't. I still had some stuff to get. So my mind was racing. I strategically mapped out the whole store in my head and and I rushed through my shopping list. Wesley wasn't thrilled.

Along the way, I attemped to (and sometimes succeeded) swaddle him in the following locations:

• Aforementioned chair at the pharmacy
• Chair of an outdoor patio furniture display
• Top of a mega-box of Huggies diapers on display

I got lots of compliments on my swaddling. Too bad I didn't get compliments on my well-behaved baby. Maybe one day.

Holding a swaddled baby with one hand and a pacifier in his mouth with the other, while steering the cart with, well, my foot, proved to be quite difficult. But I made it. I got out of there and we're all alive.

Here is where I get mushy.

When we got home, I opened the trunk of the car to decide which bags could come upstairs with me and the little man, and I glanced at him over the backseat. He was quietly looking out the window at who knows what, his blue eyes wide and so intent on taking in this big new world he has discovered. He was just so precious. Even though I said to myself, "why couldn't you quietly look at the world in the grocery store?," I found myself unable to stay mad at the little guy. It was a crazy, frustrating afternoon, but it was just one piece of my new life that includes him. Sweet baby Wesley.

sigh

I always knew my life would change. I did. I told myself that over and over again for 9 months. But I never really knew. I just didn't. I couldn't. Sometimes things just happen in our lives, and we're never the same. Yes, we know we won't be the same... but at the same time, we have no idea.

Whether it's as small as moving up to middle school from elementary school or as big as taking the plunge by getting married... it's change. We never really know what's going to happen. We just can't. But we do it anyway, and we always make it. We live.

Well, more adventures to come, I'm sure. It's the nature of this change in my life. I'll keep you posted.

back into the swing of things

Today was the first day of the rest of my life.

Q: What do you mean, Angela?
A: Today was the first day since May 22, 2008, that I completed actual cardiovascular activity with the goal of getting and staying in shape.

Q: You mean you've sat around like a slob for 2 months?
A: Well, under doctor's orders I couldn't "exercise" for 6 weeks... so that was a good excuse to do nothing and eat everything. I've taken walks with the Wes-man every now and then, but it's doubtful my heart rate got above 150 for any period of time.

Q: How did it feel?
A: It was tough. But it was worth it. I didn't push myself too far, since I have been on hiatus. You can't expect too much the first day back, you know.

Q: What did you do?
A: I went for a run. There's a 2-mile loop I like around where I live. The sun was out; it was nice. Actually, the timing of it is rather convenient (because I'd never work out if it wasn't convenient): Wesley went to bed at 10 last night, then woke to eat at 4:30 this morning (6.5 hours, whoo hoo!!). He was done and back in his crib sleeping semi-soundly at 5:15... and I decided to get changed and go for a run. I did 2 miles, came home and did stretches and core exercises on my stability ball, and took a shower all before Shane got up at 6:20. Pretty impressive if you ask me.

Q: Wow! You're a superwoman!
A: Ha ha. Tell that to my legs and arms and abs and everything else that hurts right now. But thanks. They say 9 months up, 9 months down. We'll see. I actually returned to my pre-pregnancy weight pretty fast (i.e., immediately), but since that was nothing impressive and I hadn't even started trying to get back into shape, I have plenty of motivation and have had plenty of time to mentally prepare for this new journey of mine. A long journey back into healthiness, that started this morning with a single step.

Best of luck to you all and your goals. Remember, today is the first day of the rest of your life. What do you want to change?

warning: graphic post below

I am tempted to blog about the messiest diaper in the world.

I could mention something about how I heard Wesley take care of business toward the end of the first hour of Church, and I decided to wait until the end of the meeting to change him. I could mention how it smelled so bad, I was worried the people sitting behind me were giving me evil eyes. I could mention how when I opened up his diaper I saw more and more poo than I have ever seen in my life. I could mention how it got all over his clothes. I could mention how, as I started to strip him of his now poo-laden clothes, he started crying bloody murder. Then, I could mention how it got all over his back, arms, legs, and feet. I could mention how I ran out of wipes and had to start using paper towels soaked in cold tap water, which was even less pleasing to the little man. I could mention how his head was even falling off the cushy changing pad and hitting the countertop but I had to live with it because better he have a semi-concussion than get himself re-smeared in poo. I could mention how I finally got him clean and picked him up, as naked as the day he came, to inspect every square inch of his tiny body for poo remnants. I could mention how I am so glad my friend Michelle made it to Church that day, since I let her borrow my "spare" onesie from my diaper bag last week, and I forgot to pack another spare, but she luckily returned it to me just 30 minutes earlier. I could then mention how, even though I used a disposable changing pad on top of the cushioned changing pad, and promptly disposed of it, I felt compelled to wipe down the Church's changing pad with hand soap and paper towels because my little spray bottle of disinfectant was in my OTHER diaper bag. I could mention how I was so freaked out I not only used hand sanitizer on myself, but I put some on Wesley's hands and legs as well. Then I could mention how Wesley was so pooped from screaming at me cleaning up his poop he fell right asleep in the next Church class. Lastly, I could mention the ordeal in cleaning out his little onesie when I got home (the onesie I disgustingly wrapped in a cloth diaper, put in a Ziploc bag, and ignored until I got home), an ordeal which includes rinsing it and letting it soak in a sink for hours, creating some very unnatural-looking poo-colored water.

I could mention all of that, but I probably shouldn't. It's just too gross.

the seven dwarfs

Last night was a reunion of our childbirth class now that we've all survived labor and delivery and have cute babies to show off. It was so fun to get together. This was the funnest part:



One of the dads made the comment that from right to left the babies are progressively more awake. Notice Wesley on the most left, screaming his little head off. Can you believe that of our seven babies, all 2 months or less, he was the only one whining?? I was shocked. It was so funny. I just laughed and laughed as this picture was taken. They are SO CUTE. But yeah, the poor guy, I don't even know why he was crying. I think he was tired. That is Shane's hand, holding his hand as he is crying. (Can you see his shirt? It was a hand-me-down and says "Daddy's Little Wingman" !!)

Our childbirth instructor came to the reunion, and she said in all the time she has been teaching, this is the first reunion where everyone from the class came. We totally loved our class. We clicked, I guess. Some couples were quieter than others, but many of us were outspoken and even the less talkative ones joined in most of our discussions. We did discuss a lot.

The coolest part of the reunion was this game we did. Well, not really a game. It was Vicki's idea -- she is a teacher in her work life -- but I actually carried it out since she was also hostess and was overwhelmed getting ready for the event. I took three posterboards and typed up questions, printed them out, cut them up, and glued them on. Questions like:

"My water broke.... At home. In public. At the hospital, by my doctor."
"I had my baby on a.... Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday."
"During labor I.... Developed a fever. Needed oxygen. Swore at my husband."

I had sheets of stickers and each of the seven couples got a different color star. For everything that pertained to the couple, they put one of their stars by the answer. It was very very cool to see how it all shook out for the seven of us. I wonder if statistically we are a microcosm for the universe? One of the seven had a preemie, two of the seven had c-sections, four of the seven pushed for less than an hour (first-time moms, wow!), and all seven of us attempted and are still breastfeeding. I should research that.

It was a blast. I totally need this network right about now, since I'm terribly afraid of 1) being all alone and 2) feeling all alone. Having these gals, with babies all at the same age as the Wes-man, just rocks. We've actually gotten together a couple other times, and one of the girls was like, "oh, I'm so glad to hear you say you have piles of laundry all over your house, too! I've been working on folding four loads for the last four days!" Case in point, we are all going through the same thing, and it's totally normal. Whew. Now I'd better get to my laundry.