Never going back...

Last semester finals were quite possibly the most miserable of my education ever. Both Parker and my finals extended the entire length of the finals period. Are you kidding me???? In fact, Parker wasn't done until midnight on the last day of finals. It was exhausting and incredibly stressful. Atticus was 18 months and despite how much I love this age, my goodness I miss the naps he took during previous finals periods. He is down to a single nap, 1.5 hours if I am lucky. Oh dear me, I miss those productive hours during the day hours. So, he got farmed out to neighbors, friends, ward members, and I felt guilty which contributed to the terrible finals period extravaganza.

On the very last day of finals, after my tests were done and Parker was basically done (still had an hour left on a test), we decided to have a finals completion victory night out. Just the two of us. A lovely idea. We went and saw Hunger Games: Catching Fire. If you haven't seen it, the rest of the post will spoil it, so stop reading. If you have, you will know what I mean.

Dear friends. When I saw this film, I had been done with the most stressful finals period of my life for  5.5 hours.

And let me just tell you, when Katniss is told she has to go and compete in another hunger games, and she runs to the forest. Crying. Running. Crying. Running.

That my friends captures the reaction I anticipate I would have if I ever EVER ever had to return to law school.

You might think that I am over-exaggerating, after all Katniss likely had massive PTSD from killing all those people, but I promise you, the situations are closer than you might think.

3 months people. 3 months, and I shall be done with law school, off to bigger and better things like taking the test that will determine if law school mattered at all and if I can be licensed in my field to pay back the mountain of debt I have incurred. The law school love just keeps on giving. Huzzah!

Raw Milk

I bought Raw Milk today. That's right. I said raw milk, straight from the cow's teet.

And, I know what you are thinking, "Seriously, she's chosen death by milk?"

At least that is sort of what I thought when I signed the waiver that more or less said I was aware drinking this milk could kill me, but I was willing.

On the package there was this cute warning on the label that said something like BE AWARE: WE TRY REALLY HARD TO MAKE CLEAN MILK BUT THIS MILK COULD STILL KILL YOU. And I thought to myself, huh, sounds like state regulation to me, and that friends is how I know that I will pass the bar, because today, I looked state legislated death in the face...and I laughed.

Drink up. Milk mustaches all around :-)

Getting to YES!

In law school-dom, there is a pretty famous book called, "Getting to Maybe." Because law school is really all about how in law, especially starting out, we are too apt to say Yes or No, when in reality the best answers are Maybe and then explain why in both directions. I read the book. So far, I wouldn't say that I am very good about getting to maybe, at least my grades wouldn't suggest that I am.

But, I was thinking about how in real life, I am the queen of maybe. I don't like it. I have decided that I need to get over all my maybes, all my feelings that I need to explain why I can't say a complete yes or no, but honestly, it isn't healthy. I was at the doctor yesterday, and he asked me a number of questions relating to my birth and breastfeeding of Atticus. Neither or these things have gone as I expected them to, and I have had to work through trying not to feel sad about it. Breastfeeding has been particularly difficult for me to get past.

I sat there answering his questions, following every unconfident yes or no up with some huge explanation about what happened. The doctor was very kind, and he listened to what I said, but before I launched into my breastfeeding defense, he said, "I can already hear in your voice that you felt like you failed... you didn't fail." Whelp, I am trying to see it from his point of view, but as I left, I realized that I seriously need to get to Yes. I want to be confident enough that when asked, I can simply say Yes or No without feeling the overwhelming need to follow that up with a giant explanation.

So,

Do you breastfeed? Yes.

Do you formula feed? Yes.

Did you get an epidural? Yes.

Was your labor natural? Yes.

Were you induced? Yes.

Most importantly, do you feel like a success? Yes.

I am getting there folks. Coming to terms with getting over what my expectations were and what the realities are, and still feeling successful.

Atticus: 8 months

A Crib of Gratitude

Seldom a day goes by, that I don't think of the incredible generosity of some loving soul out there who dropped this beautiful crib on our door step leaving neither name or number or trace of accreditation. 

Gazing at my sleeping son in this beautiful crib fills my heart with gratitude for the kindness of souls unnamed. It kindles the desire within me to pay forward such kindness. This beautiful crib will be treasured by me forever.

'Tis the Season

"For the things which some men esteem to be of great worth, both to the body and soul, others set at naught and trample under their feet. Yea, even the very God of Israel do men trample under their feet; I say, trample under their feet but I would speak in other words -- they set him at naught, and hearken not to the voice of his counsels."  1 Nephi  19:7

Tis the Season to remember Christ and at the very least, to remember his teachings of love and service and faith and hope. A very Merry Christmas to everyone.

4 Months!

It is amazing how quickly time is going, and that my newborn is a baby and will soon be a little boy. He is so darling. Loves jumping. Oh my, does he love jumping. Loves sucking his thumb. Loves smiling, and laughing. He is such a darling little thing.

Here are Atticus and his cousin Jackson, just playing, holding hands, looking at the camera, becoming friends! 

 It would appear that Atticus doesn't LOVE being a pumpkin, but we are going to give it another go soon.

 He does however LOVE to get things stuck on his head: blankets, bras, pants (as in his), you name it, he has probably at least tried to get it up to his head.

 We went with some friends to St. George a few weekends ago, and this little fellow was a perfect hiker.

 This is generally how he wakes up, just ever so glad to see us.

 This is generally how he goes to sleep, thumb ALWAYS firmly lodged in his sweet little mouth.

 My parents came to town for a cousin's wedding, and here is Atticus having some fun with Grandpa. Are those Atticus' pajamas? Why yes, yes they are. I believe that whole day he wore them. Nothing high brow about our household. Comfort is the necessity.