Boom Baby!... literally

I am a horrible blogger. It's been 5 months since my last post and a lot has happened: I HAD A BABY!

On June 3rd (a week past my due date) I checked into the hospital to be induced. I was given Cytotec and told that it would take 24-36 hours, and that in the mean time I should get lots of sleep. However, my restless legs had other plans. After it became apparent that my legs would rather be running a marathon, I was given Ambien, which, in case you don't know, is some pretty powerful stuff... it didn't work. I was wide awake and hallucinating. And to make matters worse, only 12 hours after taking Cytotec, I went into labor. During labor, I was still on Ambien and apparently asked the nurse several times if we were on a boat. When she finally said "no" I told her she was "a good captain anyway." (At least that's what Mark says.) Eventually the Ambien wore off and I pushed for 3 LONG HOURS before the Dr. finally said "screw it," grabbed some forceps and pulled out Hank: our 8 lb 21.5 in baby boy.

He's beautiful, and HUGE. He's was in the 91st percentile for head size (hence the forceps) and the 99th for length! He's definitely earned his nickname: Hank the tank. 

Ready or Not

It is a well known fact among my family and friends that I am not particularly fond of children. That being said, the following is a compilation of surprised faces from my family upon finding out that I am in fact PREGNANT:

I told Mark in a very sneaky way. I got a priority shipping box from the USPS. I purposefully got a box that was about the size of the Nexus 7 (the tablet that Mark wanted at the time) I banged up the box, smeared ink on some spots and printed off fake shipping labels from "Porter Electronics" Then I put it in the mailbox and waited for him to get home. Predictable  as always Mark checked the mail 1st thing when he came home. He walked in the door with the box and asked if I had ordered something. I said I had bought him something very pricey and told him to wait till I got the camera so that I could record his reaction to the gift. Inside the box was a pregnancy test that said "Mark, You're going to be a Dad!" I wish our camera was better but as you can see from the photo above he was just as surprised as I was. 

Sara and Emily didn't believe me when I told them that I am pregnant. They both immediately responded with "No you're not." It took me about 3 full minutes of convincing them until I was finally able to snap this photo. 

Robin got an envelope with a note that said "This is the size of your new niece / nephew" below the words a mustard seed was glued to the paper. My parents and Coltin all got a similar note. Their pictures are below:

Telling my cousin Brielle and her family was a little difficult. I had lunch with them and then told them I wanted a family photo. I went up to a complete stranger and said "Hey I'm about to tell my family that I'm pregnant. Could you snap a few photos after I say "1,2,3, Kristin's pregnant" Again, none of them believed me and the first photo taken was just of people with awkward smiles. You can see that Uncle Brent still doesn't believe me in this photo. But after some convincing my dutiful stranger-photographer got this hilarious gem.

Well there were lots of family members and friends that I have awesome photos of but this post would go on for a mile if I put them all on here. So I'll wrap it up with one more photo:

Meet Hank, our baby boy. He is named after my Granddad... well actually my granddad's name was Ianthus  but that's a whole different story. 

Naked Heat: A Horror Story

Being from Texas, you would think that hot weather doesn't bother me. . . You would be wrong. My years of living in Utah have made me a pansy. I hate being hot, especially at home. So when our swamp cooler boke in the middle of July I was about ready to fill my bathtub with ice and slip into a hypothermic oblivion while blasting "Hace Calor" on the stereo (the Sesame Street version of course). But, before I could enact my arctic plan, my little brother came into town for volleyball camp. He of course wanted to stay at our house so I had to settle for an ice cold shower instead.

Here is where the horror story begins. After getting out of my frigidly refreshly shower, I noted how much cooler it was in my house without clothes on. Then, forgetting that my brother was outside getting his bags out of his jeep, I decided to sit on the couch and relish the moment of cool. . .

Upon re-enterin my house, at first my brother was like:

 

 

But then he was like:

 

And then he just went back outside, got in his jeep and was like:

 

 

Scarred for life. If you know my little brother PLEASE don't mention this blog post to him. It will only make his emotional trauma worse.

 



The Great American Bison

When I was a kid I thought my Dad was a government spy. I also thought that he was 19 years old. I was positive that he had never told a lie in his entire life (which is why I still won't eat broccoli becasue it will make little trees grow out of my ears). And I was pretty sure he knew the names of everyone in the world, because he always knew what to call them when they we driving poorly. "Get out of the way Joe!" "C'mon Suzzy! Use your blinker!"

Above and beyond anything else that I knew about my father, I knew that his favorite animal was a buffalo. Occasionaly as a child my whole family would pile into our 9 passenger van and we would drive for days and days (Texas to Wyoming) for the sole purpose of seeing some buffalo. When we finally arrived at the buffalo we would park the van and wait while my Dad and Devin counted the buffalo. They kept a tally of all the animals we had seen on the trip, from ground squirels to deer, and the vacation wasn't over untill we had seen more buffalo than all the other animals combine. We stopped for EVERY buffalo, even if it was dead... especially if it was dead.

Somehow, I have managed to look back on those family vaccations with a inexplicable amount  of nostalgia. So when Mark suggested we go to Yellowstone I was all in. We went with our friends Dan and Jacquie Bergquist. Here's a chronicle of our journey.

May 26th:
We arrived in Yellowstone today. It was snowing despite being May. Ten seconds after arriving at the park Mark had to pee, so we pulled off the main road, but he decided to hold it when we discovered that we had company.

That's 6 buffalo for our tally and we've only been here for 60 seconds! Dad would be so proud. Then, I taunted a buffalo: (in case you can't tell I'm holding a bag of beef jerky)

Then I lost count of all the buffalo:

We saw buffalo in the mist:

After some geysers and things not involving buffalo, the highlight of the day came. To understand my excitement about this you need to have familiarized yourself with "The Guy on the Buffalo" a classic you-tube musical. If you have not watched this you are FORBIDDEN from continuing this blog post and I  have graciously provided you with a link to it's glory: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5Lmkm5EF5E

Awesome right? So now that you've watched "The Guy on a Buffalo" you'll understand why this was the highlight of my trip. We were walking in West Yellowstone when we happened upon a shop with a bunch of taxidermy animals, western attire, and a sweet old lady with a camera. 

That is right ladies and gents, I am riding on a buffalo! I dun pa proud. 

We're not ready for kids

I already wrote this blog post and I thought I published it but someone informed me that it somehow disappeared like socks in the laundry. So I'm re-writing it. Now the details aren't exactly fresh in my memory but here's what I recall.

It was a hot day in March. Mark and I we super excited to go to the festival of colors in Provo. If you've never been to the Holi Festival in Provo, Here's what you need to know: 500 Mormons, 25 Hindu's

In our fresh white shirts, ready for fun, Mark and I, as well as my cousin Sara and her hubby Tyler, drove to the Hari Krishna temple in Spanish Fork... well we tried. The closest parking was like 10 miles away from the temple (this number might be exaggerated slightly by my memory but it's not likely; I mean 500 Mormons right?). So we had to walk, and walk and walk; like the pioneer children only we were walking toward a Hindu temple not a LDS one. Blasphemy?

When we finally arrived my flat feet were grumpy. Regardless, we bought colored chalk and waited for the party to begin. I was walking across the plaza when this malicious, little punk kid (no older than 10) comes out of nowhere and hits the bottom of my chalk bag, making colored dust fly into my face and up my unprepared nose. I'm not exactly known for my patience and mild temper, and even on a good day I would have yelled at the kid. But, the chalk that I inhaled must have been blocking my brain cells from communicating with the "appropriate reactions" part of my brain so my grumpy feet took over the thinking and decided to elbow the kid in the face... hard. The following is not an inaccurate representation of what it may have looked like:





He cried, I felt a mild twinge of guilt, but the little punk deserved it. This is why we are not ready for kids.

On the brighter side, here's a fun photo we took:

Valentines Menu: Dog

In 2012 Mark and I had plans to buy a puppy, but not just any puppy, a Vizsla! Vizsla's are awesome, they don't bark a lot, they don't shed a lot, and most importantly, they don't smell!

Unfortunately Vizslas cost around $1000. So we started saving. In February we had the $200 deposit saved up and there was a liter on its way with our closest breeder. We were finally ready to order our dog, that is until Valentines Day.

V-day 2012 was supposed to be low key. I worked late and wasn't expecting much. I came home to a candle lit foot massage and some strawberries and cream, but I was still hungry, so I suggested that we go to one of my favorite restaurants here in Provo, Communal.

When we arrived at Communal, the waitress asked if we had a reservation. We said no and despite the fact that the restaurant was half empty, she made a big to-do about trying to find us a table. She finally offered us a spot at the bar. Everyone in the restaurant was staring at us with their judgmental eyes so I was eager to sit down. When the waitress brought us a menu, she informed us that they had a set menu that day. I was aware of how expensive a set menu can be but Mark had no idea, so he just told her that that would be fine. As I looked over the menu I was looking for a way out of the restaurant while still saving my pride, after all the entire restaurant was still staring at us with their judgmental eyes. Luckily the menu had shrimp on it. I turned to Mark and said, in a voice loud enough for the waitress to hear, "Oh no, they are serving shrimp, we better go somewhere else cause I'm allergic" he did not pick up on my hint and said, in an equally loud voice, "That's okay, we just won't get the shrimp."

*Sigh* resigned to my fate I decided that paying for the meal was worth saving my pride. I assumed that the meal would cost around 60 or 70 bucks, and since it was Valentines Day it would be worth it... I was so wrong. When the check came Mark did his best to hide his surprise, but his bug eyes were my first hint that things were not as I had hoped. I discretely pried the bill from his vice grip and my heart dropped. $140... we don't HAVE $140!

Of course, we ended up having to spend the money we had saved for the deposit on our Vizsla to pay for our bill. And that is the story of how we ate our dog for Valentines Day.

Previously on...

It's been a long time, so I don't blame you if you've forgotten, but the reason I started this blog was for a class. The reason I abruptly stopped blogging is because I got an A on the assignment. Once the semester ended my overworked brain had effectively liquified and I had a hard time trying to seperate wit and humor from the mush that was once my mind. Have you ever seen the TV show "Bones?" Think of Doctor Hodgins with a strainer going through some bodily goop trying to find particulates... Thats what I've been doing. But I'm back and eager to catch up.

I love watching shows like Prison Break and Lost. But I hate watching the "previously ons." You know the part that says "Previously, on Lost, John Locke was a creeper who screwed everything up but Jack saved the day . . . again." Mark, however, LOVES the previously ons he likes to make sure he knows what happened before he moves on. Well, to catch you up on the last year, here's the "Previously on" for my life:

Previously, on Something Like Love:

Mark and I had a one year Anniversary! We decided to do this awesome photo shoot with our birds, Darwin and Stella. Things were great, until Darwin found a way out of the cage and flew the coop. Poor Stella was heart broken so we quickly bought her a new boy friend named Leland.

We went on a fishing trip with Syler!

We  moved into a bigger house, I love it! It has a big yard so we got a dog. He was a German Shephard  named Carlos, (no we did not name him) we had him for 3 days before he destroyed our house and went back to his previous owners.

4-wheeling trips with the fam,

We made our own grape juice,

Our new house has a big tree in the front yard and we would hang our birds out in the tree so that they could enjoy the summer weather, but then some little punk kid came by and thought it would be fun to beat their cage with a bat like a pinata . . .  Leland and Stella died and I cried A LOT. :(

 My birthday this year was on 11/11/11. I hosted a huge 1920's themed party. Justin was my bartender and Byrin was my craps dealer. We had fun taking photos, fake gambling and drinking mocktails!

Mark and I went on a canoeing trip with my fam.

We went to Texas for Christmas. We had so much fun staying with Mark's brother Todd and his wife Rachael and their cute little boys!

Now that I've caught you up 2011, we can now return to our featured program.

Something Like True Love

Finding the person you want to spend the rest of your life with feels like coming home after a long vacation. Maybe you were searching for something, maybe you weren’t, but either way you found it and it’s the most comfortable feeling I know.

I started this blog for a class. I figured I’d write about the only thing I know: life. I have now completed the required amount of pages and I don’t know how much longer this blog will survive. But I do know this, mine and Mark’s one year anniversary is coming up, and weather I write about this next year or not we will still have adventures. Mark will still say funny things that make me laugh. And we will still have our odd relationship, which I like to think is Something Like Love.

P.S. I better get an A+ on this.

Returned Misioneros

Learning a new language is like learning how to shave your legs. At first it's seems really fun but after a while it's just a hassle. There are always spots that you miss and you occasionally cut yourself. This is how I feel about Spanish. I pay attention in class but there is always something I miss and I frequently make a fool of myself. Well I was given a Spanish assignment to interview a native Spanish speaker and write a 2 page report about it.

 As many of you know, Justin recently came home from his mission. He spoke in Church on the Sunday and afterward we invited a few family friends over to celebrate the only way we know how; with brisket. I took advantage of this opportunity to invite Mario and Marta Hernandez over so that I could interview them for the assignment. I told everyone in my family that they'd be coming over but somehow Justin got a bit confused. I guess he thought that I had invited them over so that he could teach them the missionary lessons . . . false.

We all sat down to dinner and I started asking Mario and Marta questions in my less-than-perfect Spanish. Suddenly Justin blurts in with this statement "Marta, ha orado para saber si el Libro de Mormon es verdadero?" or for those of you who don't speak Spanish "Marta, have you prayed to know if the Book of Mormon is true?" Here's what was going through my head: Did he just say what I think he said? What is he doing? Stop!! At this point I was discretely pinching Justin's arm and kicking him under the table. He didn't stop. So I excused myself and then 30 seconds later called for Justin's help in the kitchen.

Me: "What are you doing?"
Justin: "I thought I was supposed to be teaching them"
Me: "Noooo, I invited them so I could interview them for a school project"
Justin: "OOOHHH . . . can I teach them afterward?"

Oh freshly returned missionaries, you are a special breed.

St Pat's

Almost 2 years ago, I found myself stepping off of a plane in Ireland. It was love at first sight. The green hills, the cool brisk air, the music playing in the distance. It was “magically delicious.” This is one of the reasons whyI love St. Patrick's day. It is one of my very favorite holidays. This year to celebrate I decided to make some Irish Coddle (a really gross-looking but yummy tasting soup).

I invited our good friends "Standrew" Murray over for dinner, which turned out great. Afterward I made a St. Patirick's day creation of my own invention. I'm calling them "green refreshers."
They are a combination of:

• Sprite
• Pineapple or Lime Sherbet 
• Vanilla Frozen Yogurt
• Limeade
• Green Food Coloring

It was a fantastic St. Patrick's day!

Busted Backs and Windows

Racquetball is like tennis right? Only instead of a net there's a wall? Call me crazy but it doesn't seem that dangerous. Then again there is a hard rubber ball bouncing off walls at high speeds, so maybe there's more to it than I thought. Well, there must be, because Mark came home from a racquetball game acting like he had just been hit by a car. He could barely move.

It was a Friday and he spent to evening in a hot bath while dictating the paper he needed to write to me. Saturday he tried to go to work but he quickly realized that, that wasn't going to happen. So, I picked him up and started calling chiropractors. I think I called every chiropractor in the Utah Valley and none of them were open on Saturday. We finally found one that was on-call. We went to his office around 7 pm and he worked on Mark's back for 2 and a half hours.

He started with some normal chiropractor stuff like massage and little adjustment tricks, but when none of those worked, things started to get interesting. First he did some electroshock stuff which wasn't too strange, but when that didn't help he strapped Mark into what looked like a torture chamber

Mark was still in a lot of pain so the chiropractor layed him on the table for what looked like another adjustment trick then... BODY SLAM! This guy literally had both feet off the ground when he landed on Mark. (he should look into professional wrestling).  That didn't help Mark so he had one final trick, acupuncture. I think I was more afraid than Mark; just being in the same room with needles makes me queezy. It was horrifying to sit and watch a body-slamming, torture-chambering man jab needles into Marks back and then just leave them there. Worst nightmare, ever!! I did manage to pull it together long enough to snap a photo.

After this long ordeal Mark and I walked out to our car only to find that it had been broken into. Our entire life savings ($5) had been stolen. Mark says it's my fault for leaving the car unlocked but, being from the ghetto, I say "I woulda had rather leave da car unlock and let dem steal fi bucks den bust da windows out my car." (sidenote: Bust The Windows Out Your Car by Jazmine Sullivan is one of my favorites songs). Luckily we didn't have anything too valuable in the car so nothing but the money was taken. But it made for a very eventful Saturday.

Angry Birds

You've all heard of the game Angry Birds right? Well the premise is that these little green pigs stole eggs from some birds, which made the birds angry and now they have declared war on the pigs.

Well 4 weeks ago our finches laid 4 eggs and about 2 weeks ago we expected them to hatch, but instead, one by one, they all mysteriously disappeared. I like my birds and I don't like to think that they pushed their eggs overboard, because in my imagination they are sweeter than that.  So, I've decided to blame it on the pigs. I don't know how or when but sometime little, green, legless pigs broke into my apartment and stole our eggs!

In an effort to avenge our caged birds, Mark and I bought smart phones and have taken up playing Angry Birds every spare minute we have. Before we bought these phones, we used to cuddle at night before we went to bed... now we just play Angry Birds till we fall asleep. We're a little bit addicted, but I never knew vengeance could be so fun.

The Bacon Man

Bacon. It makes everything taste better. I've always liked bacon, but Mark, well he LOVES bacon. In fact there isn't a thing that Mark can cook without bacon in it. For Christmas last year I almost got him a cook book called 177 Ways to Cook Bacon.

A few days ago I asked mark to clean out a pan full of bacon grease. His response was "Why do I always have to do it?" My reply was "You are the bacon man, you always cook the bacon, you always eat the bacon and so you always clean the bacon."

Well Mark has really taken that to heart and sincerely adopted his new persona. An hour ago I walked into the kitchen and Mark quickly shewed me out. "Go away! the Bacon Man is working." Not much later he brought me a delicious sandwich and said "This is for being a good girl and listening to the Bacon Man."

It ain't so bad being married to the Bacon Man.

A Prank

Have you ever heard the story of of Scheherazade? The legend goes that the King of Persia found out that his wife was betraying him, so he had her beheaded. Then angry at all women he decided that every night he would marry a new virgin and then have her beheaded at dawn. Well he quickly ran out of virgins and there were only a few left in the kingdom: one of which was Scheherazade, who bravely volunteered herself to marry the king. On their wedding night she began to tell a story. The king listened in awe as she told the tale through the night, but when dawn came she said there was no time to finish before her beheading. Desperate to hear the story the King spared her life for one more day. The next night she did the same thing and again the King spared her life to finish the story. The cycle was repeated day by day until Scheherazade had told a thousand and one stories, and by then the King had fallen in love with her.

What's the moral of the story? Never bore your audience. That is the first great rule of writing. Now I'm not saying that my brother, Justin's writes boring letters, but they don't exactly satisfy his audience. For example, a few weeks ago I wrote him a letter telling him about the frostbite on all of my toes. I expected an email back or at least just a mention of me in a letter to the family but no... nothing. Instead it was just, "Such and such person that you don't know is progressing well" and "Joe Stranger is really great." In frustration I called my mom who turns out has a similar complaint. She always asks Justin questions which he never answers. So I decided some revenge was in store

I wrote an email to Justin telling him that my frostbite had gotten worse and that my doctor had scheduled a time to have it amputated.  "I'm going in for surgery this Saturday so by the time you read this email I will only have 9 toes" Additionally I told him that once the toe was removed I would be getting a tattoo that reads "Gone to Market" with an arrow pointing to my missing piggy. Much like this one:

Well Justin finally emailed me back and here's what he said:

No way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So are you officialy a 9-toe-er. That is.... ummmm.... almost funny and very sad. Sorry to hear about that. But don´t worry, in the resurrecion you will have all of your 10 toes again! Love you sister, even if you only have 9 toes Have a fantastic day, good luck with your feet. I´...ll be praying for you.

He gets home in two weeks so he can just believe me till he gets back and see's my feet. That ought to teach him not to ignore my emails.