Usually Simon likes being in his Baby Bjorn. Well, at least he goes right to sleep when we put him in it, which we take to mean at least he isn’t uncomfortable. But a few days ago he would not calm down when we put him in it. He kept trying to throw his head back, which didn’t work out too well for him since he was facing in and we had the head support up. We were a little bit wary about turning him around and letting him face forward because we didn’t know if his neck could handle holding his head up, but as you can see we needn’t have worried. He calmed right down as soon as we turned him around. Do not be deceived into thinking he’s looking at Micah, however. He just likes to have his nose in the air. Our child is such an elitist.
A week or so ago one of Micah’s fellow PCC employees asked how I was doing and if I was back at work yet. Micah informed him that I was not going back to work. “So what is she doing?” he asked, somewhat incredulously, “babysitting?” Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, exactly. I prefer to think of myself as a full-time wife, mother, and homemaker. And can I just tell you that I really like my new job?
I like planning and preparing meals. I like surprising Micah with the range of my cooking abilities. I like doing the dishes and keeping the apartment clean. I like having time to do those little things that I never used to have time to do, like write Thank You cards and finish the laundry while it is still light outside (because our washer and dryer are outside). And I really, really like taking care of Simon. True, he doesn’t do much and it doesn’t take much to care for him. I hold him, I feed him, I change his diaper, I give him baths, I sing to him. At first it did kind of feel like maybe I could be babysitting. Babysitting for a long, long time. But then I realized (I’m a quick one, I know) that Simon knows who I am. He calms down when I sing to him because he knows my voice. He stares at my face because he recognizes it. He likes it what I hold him because I’m his mom and he knows it. And that makes a world of difference between a babysitter and being a Mom. I’m pretty sure that as a teenage babysitter I would not have taken being peed on, spit-up on, and cried on quite so well. I don’t think I would have felt so bad for the poor child whose diaper overflowed all up his back. I don’t think I would have spent twenty minutes in the middle of the night sucking mucus out of a baby’s nose with an aspirator so he didn’t sound so wheezy when he breathed. They couldn’t have paid me enough. But now that I’m a Mom, just the fact that my baby knows me makes everything so worth it. So enjoyable. So sweet.
Maybe that is why the chorus of “Your Song” from Moulin Rouge keeps going through my head:
I hope you don’t mind,
that I put down in words,
How wonderful life is
Now you’re in the world.
So, I was flipping through some of our recently taken pictures and I came across this video that we shot in front of the Tahitian meeting house at the PCC while Mom and Dad Blackhurst were visiting. For some reason our camera is defaultly set to not record with sound when in video mode, so you will just have to imagine some nice, fast-paced tahitian drumming in the background. Either way, I think you will fully enjoy this video. You are great, Mom.
Just for the record, Father Blackhurst also did a great little jig to the song before this, but we were too slow on the draw. Just think funky chicken.
You know how we like to celebrate special occasions by making delicious food and taking pictures of it and blogging about it, right? Well, pictured below is the delicious quesadilla concoction that Micah cooked up for me to celebrate my acceptance to NYU. It looks delicious and it tasted even better than it looks. But I feel like maybe I should explain myself further . . . .A few weeks ago I got something in the mail from NYU. Yes, the same NYU that had rejected me just a few weeks before. They said there was a program that I seemed like a good candidate for, and would I like to apply? All I had to do was send in my essay of 500 words or less and I would be entered as a contestant for a (not so?) coveted spot in the John W. Draper Interdisciplinary Program in Humanities and Social Thought. I looked into the program and decided it was worth a shot. Because it is interdisciplinary I can take classes from other programs in the graduate school (including Journalism), and because it is Humanities and Social Thought, it is in the same ballpark as what I wanted to do in the journalism program anyway. It is fewer credits than Journalism, so I could still finish in a year and since it is geared towards professionals, most of the classes are in the evening and are only held once a week–great news for a couple with a small child to care for. They said it was still a competitive program, so even though they were asking me to apply, I shouldn’t get my hopes up, which of course I didn’t. I mean, not that it wasn’t great to have a second chance at NYU, but I did feel like maybe I was being a glutton for punishment by asking them to consider me again. I sent my little essay in anyway and cursed them for giving me hope right when I was getting used to the idea of moving to Bloomington and hanging out with Adrian and Jodie all the time and maybe even buying a house. NYU just can’t leave well enough alone. Micah and I have spent the past few weeks in limbo once again, although we really haven’t had much time to think about it with all that has been going on. Remember how we had a baby a month ago? I tell you . . . when it rains, it pours.
Yesterday I got my notification of acceptance to the Draper Program. And even though I was really happy, I kind of felt like we were being forced to choose between two really good things which, as I’m sure you all know, is sometimes a hard thing to do. As we thought about our options and the pros and cons of both of them, we remembered that New York has been our dream since before we were married, that this is a wonderful opportunity for my education and Micah’s profession, that we have felt strongly for some time that we would do well in New York, and that Heavenly Father hasn’t let us down yet.
So, even though the thought of moving to New York, of finding a job, of getting a Master’s degree, of raising a child there (for a few years, at least) is more than a little daunting, we’ve had a change of plans. New York City, here we come!
This week has been crazybusy with my parents visiting from Utah. They were only here for six days, so we had to cram in lots of island-touring and grandchild-holding into a short amount of time! We made it to Pearl Harbor, Valley of the Temples, Sharks Cove, the Polynesian Cultural Center, and the beach, of course. We celebrated Mothers’ Day by having Simon blessed at our house with lots of friends to wish him well on all his future endeavors the first of which, it appears, will be rolling over–although I’m keeping my fingers crossed that sleeping through the night will be a close second.
But now that we are back on our own for a week or two (before Becca and Will get here), we are trying to get our lives back on track, and that includes date nights. We actually have gone on a few dates since Simon was born–on a walk or a picnic–but we are wondering if we could pick the brains of those of you who have been here and done this for more infant-friendly date ideas. We would like to mix things up every once in a while, but can’t seem to get past the family picnic/walk rut we’ve been in. What kinds of things have you done? We’re not about to get Simon a baby sitter at this point, so we have to be able to include him, and we would prefer to spend as little money as possible since we have some pretty substantial expenses coming our way. Ready, set, brainstorm!
Right about the time I got pregnant, Micah bought me a Nike+ kit to go with my iPod. The kit basically keeps track of my mileage, pace, time, calories burned, etc. and I started using it right away. When I met with my doctor, I asked her about running while pregnant and she said it was fine as long as I was “comfortable,” which was supposed to be until I was about 4-5 months along. Well, I never really got to the point where I was uncomfortable. At least I didn’t think I did. Okay, so sometimes I did get a little crampy, but then I just stopped to walk until I felt better. I kept running, even though I got much slower and people would give me funny looks as I passed them. At the beginning of April I noticed that I was less than 20 miles away from reaching a grand total of 200 miles since I got my Nike+, and, hence, since I got pregnant. It became my new goal to reach 200 miles before Simon was born, and that is why Micah and I went running the day before he arrived. (Did the running induce labor? I don’t know. Did the running make labor more tolerable? I’m almost sure of it.) Unfortunately we hadn’t planned on him being so early, and I was about 7 miles short of my goal when he joined us on the 17th. I didn’t get a chance to go running again until last Saturday, and between that run and my run today I finally made up those last few miles. Hallelujah! Now I never have to run again! Just kidding. I plan to keep it up, especially if running helps make such strong, healthy, and handsome babies.