Two Exhausting Weeks.

Working backward...

Monday will mark Nick's first day as Pharmacy Manager! His employer approached him about the promotion. I am so proud of my husband.

I've started the regular two-week prenatal check-up appointments. This pregnancy seems to be flying by.

At the beginning of the week both Nick and Reagan were sick with some strange sore throat/fever combination.

Last weekend, Nick's little brother, Nate, got married. It was an AM wedding in Provo Canyon. The location was beautiful. After the wedding we had lunch at Tucanos. We drove home to relieve the babysitter, since the girls didn't accompany us to the wedding. We made it through the door just in time for Nick to change his clothes and turn around to head right back to Utah County for the BYU vs. UofU game.
I stayed home with the girls, and actually went to bed at halftime.
To begin with, having the rivalry game so early in the year felt strange to me. I didn't love the timing.
And now, I can't tell if it was the enormous loss; or the fact that I am in the apathetic stage of my pregnancy (ie- I don't feel passionate about too much, other than planning and preparing for the first week of November to arrive); but I just don't have my usual feeling of excited anticipation about the BYU Football season. Maybe it will get better in the upcoming weeks? I sure hope so.

In the week leading up to Nate's wedding Nick went golfing with his Dad and brothers one night, and another night he went to dinner with all of them (their equivalent of bachelor party :). So, I was feeling a lot more like a single-Mom than I usually do.

On Sunday, I was relaxing with the girls on the couch in our basement family room. Elsa can climb up stairs now, but can't come down. Elsa started climbing the stairs; and I went to retrieve her.
I put her on my lap and sat back down on the couch.
Not two seconds later: the large picture frame that I had hanging on the wall above the stairs inexplicably came crashing down. It's a good 10 foot drop. The picture exploded. It was toast.
I was grateful that Elsa wasn't in that general vicinity when it happened. Cleaning up the frame and glass took up a good portion of my morning.
I replaced the broken picture frame with a new one (the new one has plastic panes, rather than glass ones).

And then there was the weekend before the wedding...
Nick went in for the "no more babies" surgery. He was doing OK on the Valium that they gave him. Before the surgery the doctor asked Nick if he had a preference for pain meds. Nick told Dr. that he had never taken a pain medication before.
So, Dr. gave Nick a prescription for Tylenol with Codeine.

Originally, the plan was to have Nick recover (AKA- play XBOX) in basement guestroom. I brought him home and put him to bed.
Nick slept for several hours.
My little brother, Brian (hereafter known as "the hero") babysat the girls while Nick and I were at his appointment. Brian has been such a help to my during this pregnancy. He has been the main babysitter for the girls. For not having any children of his own, Brian is amazing at caring for kids (minus doing diaper changes. ha ha).
On this particular day, Brian stuck around after Nick and I returned home to install baseboards in my newly-tiled kitchen.

Well, when Nick woke up he took himself to the bathroom. On his way back down the hall he called out to me that he thought he was going to pass out.
I helped him get to the bedroom and sat him down on the edge of the bed.
At that point, Nick told me that he felt like throwing up.
I quickly searched for something to hold the impending vomit. I turned around and grabbed a garbage can.
When I turned back around, it was just in time to see Nick's eye's roll back in to his head, and he fell over sideways. Out cold.
I was terrified! I couldn't move Nick. He was dead weight.
I started screaming my brother's name! Brian could hear the panic in my voice, and made it downstairs quickly.
It was so surreal. Nick's eyes were open, but he was obviously unconscious. It is one of those scary images that I will have burned in my brain for the rest of my life.

Brian has a medical background. He volunteers with the Red Cross and teaches CPR and First Aid. He has his CNA, and will be starting the a Nursing Program to eventually be a Nurse Anesthetist in January. His bachelor's degree is in Respiratory Therapy, and he current works as a Respiratory Therapist at the University of Utah Hospital.

How lucky was I, to have him around?!

Brian immediately went in to "emergency mode". He was yelling Nick's name, and checking his vitals. Then, Brian started yelling at me to call 911 because Nick's pulse was faint.
I grabbed a cell phone and dialed the number.
All the while I was trying to keep my pregnant-emotional-self together.
We don't have a land-line at our house, so apparently the 911 dispatcher couldn't pinpoint my exact location.
Shortly in to our conversation the dispatcher told me that the ambulance couldn't find our house number! Every single GPS, on the planet, cannot find our house. Our subdivision is very confusing.
Anyway, at this point; Brian resorted to doing a sternal rub on Nick to bring him back in to consciousness. Apparently, the pain that roughly rubbing on someone's sternum produces can jolt people awake.
It worked on Nick.
I heard him take a ragged breath in.
In my mind, I thought that I'd like to avoid an ambulance medical bill, so I told the 911 dispatcher that I'd take my husband to the ER myself. After the fact, I learned that there is no charge to have the EMT's "pop in and say hi". Oh well, live and learn.

When I finished the conversation with the 911 dispatcher I fell apart. I couldn't hold the tears in. Nick wasn't coherent enough to comfort me, and he wouldn't be for a few more hours. But he was "with it" enough to start profusely vomiting.

I called the Dr.'s office. They told me that it sounded like an allergic reaction to the Codeine in the pain meds. I was instructed not to give him anything more than regular Tylenol for the pain, and to immediately take him to the ER if he had any more losses of consciousness.

In the end, I begged my brother to spend the night at our house, in case I needed more help. I moved Nick out of the guest room, and in to our bedroom. I woke up on a regular basis during the night, to touch Nick, to make sure he was still breathing.
Once the Codeine was out of Nick's system his recovery was normal.

I am sincerely hoping that our current weekend will be relaxing. I've had my fill of drama.

Elsa's 1 Year Pictures

My Beautiful Blue-Eyed Baby had her 1 year old pictures done by Korie at KLynn Photography, of course. I cannot sing Korie's praises enough. She always does such a wonderful job. If you are looking for a photographer, she's the gal for you!

Just look at how photogenic Elsa is?! And her blue eyes... It's a recessive gene I am glad she picked up (I have hazel eyes, and Nick's eyes are brown).






The quilt Elsa is sitting on is a quilt that was hand-made by my Grandma Chellson. I thought it would be fitting to use at the photo session because Elsa and my Grandma share a middle name (Ruth). They also both have/had piercing blue eyes. I wish Grandma were still alive to interact with my gorgeous girls. My consolation is that I am positive she is watching them from Heaven.
Happy Birthday Elsa!

Reagan Starts Pre School.

Reagan will be attending Start Smart PreSchool, in Kaysville, UT this year.
Last year, back when I had good intentions, I had planned on doing Joy School with the other Mom's in my neighborhood.
I know I sound like a broken record when I say that: things changed once I found out I was pregnant.
I found this preschool online, and was impressed. Reagan's teacher is a BYU graduate, so that was icing on the cake.

I had a little trepidation about how Reagan would do in preschool, since she is such a "busy" little girl.
But so far, things have been great!

I tried to take the "classic" 1st day of school picture, but Reagan didn't really cooperate. No surprise there.



Here she is, hanging up her book bag in class.




I am optimistic that Reagan will do well!

An Afternoon At Gardner Village.

The (first) Saturday that Nick was tiling my kitchen floor; I met up with my Aunt Vickie at Gardner Village. In an attempt to keep the girls out of Nick's way.

The animal petting zoo was closed, much to Reagan's dismay.
And again, to my dismay, I was reminded that some of the stores don't allow strollers inside.
When you have children with Ninja-hands; you don't get them anywhere near the interior of a cutsie-boutique, unless they are confined to a stroller. This way, there is less of a chance that some expensive item in the store will be broken.
So, we skipped the stores with a no-stroller policy.

We fed the ducks.
Reagan enjoyed holding Vickie's hand, and walking around with her. I enjoyed Vicki's company, and was just glad to have another adult with me to help corral my girls.


It was a good (albeit hot) time.

Never-Ending Projects.

Back in the spring Nick and I ripped out 14 rose bushes that were in our front yard. We put down topsoil and evened out the ground. Then, we planted grass-seed. The weeds in the area grew faster than the grass. We ended up having to start from scratch. We pulled weeds, and tilled the ground again.
The second time around we purchased and planted sod. Grass is so much easier to maintain than rose bushes.

After that experience, we should have learned our lesson and quit doing "projects" while we were ahead.

But we didn't.

Next up I TORTURED myself by undertaking the project of painting a bed for Elsa. I found a cute twin-size sleigh bed (with a trundle) on the KSL classifieds for an amazing price. The only problem was that the wood finish was ugly. I thought it'd be a quick fix to just paint it white.
So, I drove out to Lehi, UT and purchased the bed.
It sat in our 3rd car garage for weeks.
Until, in the middle of July, I pulled it out to paint it.
Reagan wanted to help me, and I didn't see any problem with that. I viewed it as a fun Mother/Daughter activity.
Wrong.
Reagan had an idea of what was supposed to happen. She put paint on a roller and slopped it on to the bed. I was using a roller too. About an hour in to the process I realized that it just wasn't going to work.
The temperature outside was insanely hot, and it was drying the paint as quickly as it was put on.
When I tried to wipe off the areas where Reagan had made her paint globs I realized they were dry already.
The bed was a mess.
So, I put the bed away for a week.

The next time I got it out I attempted to sand the paint off. It didn't work.
So, I made a trip to Home Depot and bought paint stripper.
That stuff is lethal!
I hope I never have to work with it again.

After I stripped the paint, I still had to sand.
It was an exhausting process.

FINALLY, 3 full weeks after I started (what should have been an easy project); I was back at square one.
I got a paint sprayer and sprayed white paint on the bed frame.
The temperatures were near triple-digits so the paint dried instantaneously, again. The bed didn't turn our anywhere near perfect. But after all of the time I put in to it, I deemed it acceptable and set it up in Elsa's new room.

Of course, in typical; ironic fashion... the bed frame is longer than an average twin-size mattress. I put a body pillow at the foot of the bed to bridge the gap; but if anyone has any ideas about other things I can do to fix this I'd love to hear about it!

After a little decorating, Elsa's room is finished and ready for her to move in to when the new baby arrives.


Reagan moved in to, what used to be our Toy Room. A lot of toys went to the DI; and after I got rid of them I wondered why I hadn't done it sooner?!
I decorated her new room a little bit too. Reagan seems to love it.


The Nursery had been decorated with pink polka dots. Obviously, they were going to have to go before baby boy comes.
I already had safari animal crib bedding. So, my nursery theme was decided.
It took HOURS to get the vinyl polka dots arranged on the wall in the nursery. I was a little sad to take them down, just because of all of the effort it took to get them up.
If only I had known the effort it would take to get the vinyl down... Baby boy would have had a pink polka dot nursery.


As you can see from the pictures, the vinyl dots came off, and took the paint (all the way down to the drywall) off with them! I tried everything to avoid this. I researched how to remove vinyl from walls online. But no amount of blasting a hair dryer on them had any effect.
In the end I just started ripping the dots off, paint and all.
As always, a small project turned out to be the exact opposite.
I had to putty and sand the walls, and then I repainted.
I'm not done decorating, mostly because I am having a hard time finding items to decorate with. If anyone sees any brown and yellow safari animals for sale somewhere, let me know!
But the room is coming along.


I told Nick that I was never going to do another project, ever again! It seems to me; it is far less strenuous and probably cheaper, in the long run; to just buy exactly what you want, or to hire a professional.

A week after I said this, (maybe)? I asked my little brother to come over to rip out our kitchen tile. I was intending to have Nick install new tile after the old tile was ripped out.
I justified this by thinking it would be Nick's DIY project, and not my own.

Well, my brother started ripping out the ugly white tile. And I tell you what: that stuff would not die! Eventually, my brother just got a pick axe and started going to town on the tile. But that tile was so durable that it literally cracked the wood handle on the pick axe.
It was a lot more work to get out than either of us had anticipated.
My kitchen is tiny, and it still took two days to get all of the tile ripped up. Oh yes, there was also TWO layers of the most attractive linoleum flooring you could ever imagine, underneath the tile.

I was hoping that laying the new tile would be an a good Saturday afternoon project.
Why do I even think?
Nick and my Cousin, John, spent 10 hours laying tile.
The tile was down, but they didn't have time to grout.
So, I've been without a kitchen stove/range for a week now. And it looks like things will remain that way for another week.

No more projects! At least until I find that I can't live with my bland-vanilla kitchen countertops any longer.

You Get What You Pay For.

Reagan's Swim Lessons, Again, Again.
Enrollment for 8, 30 minute swim lessons at Layton Surf N' Swim was 25 dollars. Funny, how it ended up feeling like a total waste of money to me.
Especially considering that I paid more than double that for 5, 20 minute lessons at Hunsaker Swim School, and lessons at Hunsaker left me feeling like it had been worth every dime.

Surf N' Swim was, no exaggeration, a nightmare. Too many kids per teacher. On two occasions Reagan lead a mutiny from the pool. She was bored, and figured that she and all of the other kids in the class would have more fun playing on the playground outside the pool, rather than in the pool.
Her assumption probably wasn't too far fetched. But, I hadn't paid swimming tuition for her to play on a playground. No. Apparently, what I paid for; was 30 minutes of play-time in the pool. Every day it was the same thing. The kids would walk from one shallow end of the pool to the other shallow end. Then, they'd do Ring Around the Rosies, Sing, "The Wheels On the Bus", and inevitably; it'd be time for Reagan to make an attempt at some sort of escape from the class. Can you blame her?
She didn't learn a thing about swimming, and I didn't even stick around to collect her "report card" on the last day of class. What was the point, since I wouldn't be taking her back.

The following week, we went back to Hunsaker Swim School for her second round of private lessons. What a difference!
Marshall was Reagan's teacher again (per her request).
By the end of the week, Reagan was a proficient swimmer (for a 3 year old).

Reagan will take lessons there again next summer.
The only downside is that I am going to have to hear about: "Marshall, Marshall, Marshall"; every other day for the next 9+ months.
I guess that is a small price to pay for a good swim teacher.