Exfoliating…

Hanging with Daddy

Jumping waves

Boogie Boarding (OK, only Daddy and Uncle Jonny who joined us)

And Making Memories

Good Times, happy days.

Beach Days

Instead I had the pleasure of seeing all my extended family, reminiscing about my grandma, and catching up on old times.

I have a big family. A big Mormon extended family.  We are not.  But I often feel that even though I was not raised in the Mormon faith, I was raised somewhat Mormon.  Mormonism is more than a religion, it’s a culture.  I was raised with the Mormon culture.  And I think I am a better person for it.

My husband and I don’t often take pictures together anymore.  So I am attempting to remidy that.

Notice the earrings… thanks Fussy.  I LOVE them!!

And the shoes.  Well, let’s just say that a girl who, a day before BlogHer, learns she can’t go to BlogHer, MUST do some retail therapy.  Mine was in the form of a trip to Ross Dress For Less…  The shoes?  Ya.  they cost less than $18 AFTER tax.  BOO YA!

I’m gonna look cute, damn it.

Hubby hurt his shoulder at work, September 01, 2007.

Hubby went on disability.

November 15th-ish he got surgery.

Hubby’s been out of work for a very long time.

Six months.

And you know what??

After the initial adjustment of having him home all.the.time. I’ve actually enjoyed spending our days together.

The kids are flourishing and we’ve found a way to work with, and around, each other without getting on the other’s nerves.

I actually like having him home.

Gasp.

It’s true.

But if you see him, would you kindly keep that information to yourself??

We don’t want to unnecessarily inflate his ego, you know.

So anyway I’ve been expecting that Hubby would return to work sometime around May.

Late May.

I could handle that. It gave us a bit more time together. I’d be almost done with school for the year, and childcare would not be an issue.

Then he went to the doctor’s office today.

Verdict:

Return to work in two weeks.

Two Weeks.

TWO WEEKS.

Frack.

The news hit me pretty hard.

We had plans in April. Plans to visit San Diego.

We spend time together in the evenings.

The kids see him all day, every day.

We have a gym routine each morning. As in, we actually go to the gym.

Together!

I know, crazy, huh!?

But now my time with Hubby is drawing to an end, and I’m sad.

I’m not sure if I can remember how to parent alone. He’s been such an asset to have around the house.

And frankly, I’ve also really enjoyed this time to reconnect and remember why we were actually married in the first place.

Two weeks.

Sigh.

Two weeks.

And the countdown begins.

I knew I had to wake up from this dream at some point.… I just didn’t know how soon it would be.

Hubby at home.

Ready?  OK.  So where should I begin?

I’ll start with the night before the dreaded surgery.  Hubby decided that he would go through with his procedure the following morning. (yeay!) As much as I tried to convince him that he really should wait a bit longer to make sure he was certain, he declined.  The procedure would happen. (yeay!)

Jokingly I said to Hubby that the nurses in the urology clinic must have an ongoing wager on how many men will chicken out and not follow through with their vasectomy.…  I bet they really do, hmm, I’ll have to ask the nurses next time!

The next morning we work up with an air of anticipation.  Our friend, Amber, came over to our house with her children to watch BC and eClaire.  Bless her heart!

So off we went.

On the drive over to Kaiser, Hubby turned to me and said, “I took 800 mg of ibuprofen before we left, you know, to ‘get ahead of the pain’.”

800 mg is a lot of ibuprofen.  Like prescription strength. It was prescribed to Hubby after his shoulder surgery back in November.

During his shoulder surgery everyone kept telling Hubby to ‘get ahead of the pain!’ ‘get ahead of the pain.’

Hubby didn’t.

His shoulder hurt, a lot.

So this time he decided he’d had enough with pain.

After considering where he was getting cut open, cut apart, and singed, (ahhh!)  he’d do everything in his power to ‘get ahead of the pain!’.

I was impressed.  My husband?  Take medicine without being told to?  This was huge!

Smiling Mom: “NICE!  Good for you!”

After six months in the making, Hubby and I finally walked into the urology clinic.

Ready for the vasectomy.

Hubby was called back and his blood pressure was taken.

Then the nurse asked him a few questions.

Nurse: “So, did you take any aspirin in the last 10 days?” (thins your blood, bad juju when having surgery)

Hubby: “Oh no!!  not me.  I know about aspirin!  I didn’t take any.  I took ibuprofen instead.”

Nurse: (stopping, looking up with shock on her face) “WHAT? Ibuprofen?  You can’t take ibuprofen before a surgery!!  It thins your blood too!  How much did you take?”

Hubby: “Um, 800 mg”

Nurse: “haha, well..ahem.. I’ll let the doctor know… ya, you probably won’t be able to get the surgery now.”

Hubby:  “Oh sh*t.”

Once Dr. Cuts-A-Lot called us back to the room to talk, me included, we knew the surgery was a no go.

Hubby heard phrases like, “Strongly suggest we postpone the surgery” “Scrotal sack is like a sponge”  “Might soak up blood and swell to twice the size” “Not in your best interest” He decide, whole-heartedly, to postpone the surgery.

And we laughed.

We couldn’t believe the comedy of our errors!  How could we be so dumb?

We knew about ibuprofen, and forgot.

As Hubby and I walked out of urology, with spermies still swimming, I looked at Hubby and said, “So, is this sign that God wants us to have another kid?  Let’s go home and work on #3?”

And I laughed.

Hubby informed me that I’m so fertile that I would most certainly end up pregnant with triplets if we shot for one more.

I have to agree with this.  God help me!

I just can’t see myself a parent to five kids.

Oy.

I’d go crazy, for reals!

Ultimately we decided to reschedule the appointment for early April, and attempt to actually see it through to completion.

I’m not sure why, but this vasectomy just wasn’t meant to be.  Hopefully the next one will be!

The Vesectomy That Wasn’t Meant to Be (part 2)

So ya.

Today was Hubby’s “Big Day”.

It was a day 6 months in the making.

After jumping through hoops, attending classes, and waiting to be scheduled, today was his vasectomy.

Let me jump back just a little bit to the conversation Hubby and I had yesterday.

OK it was not so much a conversation, but more a monologue directed at me as I sat on the couch with my mouth agape.

Hubby: So, I’ve been thinking. Our kids are so great. They are wonderful. Let’s have one more! If we have one more now then we can still retire on schedule, when we are in our early fifties. We have such a great family, let’s add to it!

And on it went for about two minutes, while I sat there, mouth wide open.

continued Hubby: Actually no. NO. I don’t want any more kids. Our family is great. Really great. Plus with two kids we can attend all their sports events. With three, there will always be one who is left out. NO. We are not going to have any more kids. I’m going to have my vasectomy tomorrow.

Blink, Blink.

Smiling Mom: So… do you think maybe we should cancel the appointment for tomorrow?

Hubby: Why? I’ve decided. No more kids.

SM: Well, being that you are even having this conversation with me, suggest that there is an element of uncertainty.

Hubby: Please, everyone has cold feet before big events, like weddings. I’m just having cold feet. It’s a big procedure. I’m nervous.

SM: Um, Hubby, did you have cold feet before our wedding.

Hubby: Well, no, but that’s not the point. I’m going through with the appointment.

SM: We’re young, we could easily postpone ‘the procedure’ for a few years. It’s no problem!!

Hubby: NO. I’m having the procedure done. I’m getting a vasectomy tomorrow.…End of story.

Ah, but it’s not the end of my story!

Stay tuned for my next post, The Vasectomy That Wasn’t Meant to Be (Part 2)

The Vasectomy That Wasn’t Meant to Be (part 1)

57.

Yikes.

He’s gray now, and blames my teenage years for this sudden onset grayness that somehow happened right about the same time I got my first boyfriend and went off to college.

Whatever, it couldn’t have possibly been all my fault!

I was an angel.

Perfect.

Ahem.

My dad doesn’t have a sense of humor, at all!

(My dad, guessing eClaire’s gender)

Well, maybe a little bit.

He’s a fantastic photographer.

(eClaire in the same dress my mom and I wore at the same age)

(BC on his second birthday)

(A picture of me last Christmas)

(Uncle J with the kids)

My dad is about the best grandpa a kid could have. He takes time every single day to talk with my kids. He video conferences with them through our computers and watches as they dance around the house in their goofy ways.

I can mail one of BC’s scribble drawings down to San Diego and and my dad treats it like it’s the best artwork he’s ever seen.

He’s everything you could ever hope for in a grandpa.

My kids love him more than just about anything in the world!

My dad often says that I’m quite stubborn. That I’m a bit pig headed and quite strong-willed.

Needless to say, we weren’t all that close throughout my teenage years.

Funny because I get these stubborn-like traits from my dad. Every. single. one. of. them.

It’s true.

You would think that he would have ‘got’ me a bit better than he did when I was a teen.

But now that I’m an adult he frequently tells stories, to anyone who will listen, about those days. He tells about how I created a power-point presentation of sorts when I was 12 (with a flip chart et. al) and lots of pictures and diagrams and directions on how to properly wash a dish. Then I called a meeting and presented it to the family.

Or about the time I ran over lightly tapped the neighborhood boy’s butt with my Toyota truck when I was 16 because he stuck it out at me in the middle of our culdesac and wouldn’t move.

And dare I say, that I usually detect a hit of pride in his voice as he tells each story?

I eat it up! My dad is almost perfect in my eyes and he has a huge impact on the way I choose to live my life.

He is a great man.

I guess I feel as lucky, if not more, than my kids. My dad loves me more than anything in the world. Until recently I never really understood this type of love. And then Hubby and I had our own daughter.

Now Hubby’s eyes light up and heart melts with just a bat of eClaire’s eyes.

It’s only now that I realize I had, and will always have, the same effect on my dad too.

This is something I will never take for granted.

A dad’s love.

How lucky am I?

Happy Birthday Dad!

57 and still kickin’

Not Bad!! You may make it to a ripe old age yet!!

My dad is an old, old man!

The first time you told me you loved me we were still friends. I was up visiting you from out of town and we were just hanging out having a, like, four hour conversation. It was dark and we were laying beside each other. There was a pause in the conversation. Your arm was under my head and my head on your shoulder. (Just friends, right!)

You said, “Don’t say anything, OK?”

I obliged

You said, “I love you.”

I obliged, saying nothing. But my heart defied my mouth as it beat out of my chest.

What was happening? I could not understand this feeling. Deep respect? No. Friendship? No.

Love, deep, deep love. Yes.

I obliged, and didn’t say anything. Neither did you. I grabbed your other arm and wrapped it around my stomach. We stayed there spooning for what seemed like forever, in silence. Feeling the moment. The emotion in the room-it was palpable.

Finally, breaking the silence, I said, “I love you too.”

Friends. Right. That moment changed everything. What was just a friendship took a deeper change, one that I never saw coming. Everyone else did, but I didn’t.

Later you mentioned that you were so afraid after telling me you loved me, because of the silence. Little did you know how much I felt the love from you and how much I was willing to reciprocate it.

Little did you know!

And little did I know that the love I felt was just the tip of the iceberg.

Do you know what I like the most about you? The way you look at me. You know the look, the one that cuts through me like a hot knife through butter.

You drive me crazy, infuriate me, make my knees wobbly, make me feel safe, yet off balance. But most of all you make me feel like I am in route to achieving my purpose here in life.

I want to be the best partner I possibly can be to you. I bitch, cry, moan, and nag.  Despite my shortcomings you should know I am proud to be the woman standing next to you, all the time.

One dog, two children, three tattoos, four (of your) eyebrow hairs always out of place, and five years of marriage.

Happy 5th anniversary, here’s to 60 more!

Today WE are five.

Hubby was able to join us at swimming lessons today, the first time this session. eClaire, who is usually very quiet in new and uncomfortable situations, was about as vocal as I’ve ever seen her! eClaire LOVES the water, and always has. But there is something she loves more, her Daddy. So put those two things together and you get an incredibly joyful little girl. Our swim instructor, Joey, just kept laughing. He couldn’t believe the transformation in eClaire today. She shrieked, laughed, bounced, and swam for about 50 minutes, baffling all of us. Just thinking back on it makes me smile.

There’s just something about Daddies… I know mine, still to this day, can tell me anything, give me any bit of advice, make any suggestion, and I take it more seriously than I take anyone else’s thoughts. Daddies hold a very special spot in their daughters hearts. Daddies, therefore, have a very big responsibility to guard that love with their life.

More pictures to come…

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Daughters & Daddies