Motorized Shopping

Well, the phone just rang and pack meeting is running long, so that leaves me a minute to relate the memory I referred to a minute ago but have never written down...

Backtrack to July 2002--another HOT summer and me in my 3rd pregnancy, about 8+ months along with Connor... Rick was getting ready for a scouting trip and he and I had gone to Sam's Club to shop for all of the food. Well, I was painfully waddling around, similar to what I'm doing these days, when I saw an elderly person shopping on one of those motorized shopping carts. I probably made some kind of longing remark and Rick tried to convince me to get my own cart. I could obviously benefit from one. Naturally, I was WAY too sheepish to ask for such a thing and we went on our shopping way, aisle by aisle. On one particular aisle, probably 15 minutes into the trip, Rick ran to grab something on a neighboring aisle. He was gone for quite a few minutes and just when I was really starting to wonder what happened to him, I heard a wimpy honk. I turned to see Rick puttering toward me, beeping, on an actual motorized shopping vehicle, with his foot ever-so-keenly dangling off the side to look more legitimate. I'm lucky my water didn't break from the laughter.

It was the funniest, most mortifying surprise ever and I loved every bit of that 3 mph shopping trip. I've been sorely tempted, but never brave enough to request one since. That's why I truly believe motorized carts should be standard issue after about 36 weeks of pregnancy. That and a handicap sticker for the car. There would be nothing surprising or embarassing about it. Just much happier pregnant ladies in stores. Of course, my motorized shopping vehicle would need to be more of a train, with carts for the kids and room for more than 7 groceries. It'd be fun for the whole family.

The Sound of Music

What a LOVELY day!

Not because it was a perfectly beautiful fall day; 70 degrees and sunny; the barely snow-capped mountains beautifully dotted with reds, yellows and oranges...

And not because I accomplished shopping at TWO different locations this afternoon without requiring the use of a motorized shopping assistant (though that reminds me of another story) AND that said shopping was blissfully child-free...

And not even because we FINALLY got our Suburban back with all doors in locking order and a new dvd player that everyone is anxious to test after pack meeting in 25 minutes...

No, the thing that really made this day lovely was my visit to the doctor's office where we were assured I'm making baby progress! 1 1/2 cm and 50% progress! That is sooo much better than 0.4 cm. Upon arrival, I informed my doctor that I had a goal to be in a good mood regardless of what he had to tell me, so no pressure. However, I must say he was visibly relieved to tell me the good news. (Am I that scary?) After making sure he knew just how much I hate being patronized and that he'd better be telling me the truth (I guess I am that scary), he assured me that my progress was, in fact, fact! Rick paid him on our way out.

Is that singing you hear? Yes, it's me. Singing really loudly.

Now You See It...

This is a picture of what I saw when I looked down at church today:

This is a picture of what I could have seen had I leaned over and looked down:

More specificially, this is what the young women at church saw as I stood before them in opening exercises today, giving a quick personal progress challenge... I was interrupted by one of them asking, "Sister Portrey, do you know you have two different shoes on?" I leaned forward (much like I did to take the picture) and was shocked to discover that I did, in fact, have two different sandals on! They're not even the same color and one of them (as Brayden pointed out later) has something going between my toes! (How could you NOT tell, Mom?) Well, I couldn't believe my eyes and amid our laughter I heard scattered comments of "Aww, she can't see her feet!" "How did that happen?" "Oh, she didn't even know, how cute!" I could only exclaim that THIS is how you know it's time to have your baby. Yes, very cute. Maybe I'll tell them that the reward for their personal progress challenge will be me wearing two different shoes to Young Women in Excellence. That might actually work.

After church, I walked into the hall to meet Rick and told him to look at my feet. "Ohh, they're puffy," he stated. Uh, no.

Same instruction to a friend outside and her response? "Aww, they're not that swollen!"

I am so relieved that my (apparently) hideously swollen feet could create such an effective diversion for the fact that I was wearing two different shoes for 3 hours today. Funny, even if it is a little bit sad.

Two Cribs

I think I mentioned that seeing the baby's crib put together makes everything feel more real. Well, seeing TWO cribs in neighboring bedrooms is just--weird. We have two cribs in the house. Every upstairs bedroom I walk by, aside from mine, thank heavens, has a crib in it. We need two cribs. Now I'm a little freaked out.

Snobs

We’ve been driving a base model minivan for the last week while our lovely new vehicle has been back at Carmax getting a power lock wire fixed, a problem we noticed before bought it. When I say base model, I mean the most basic, we didn’t know they make them like this anymore, minivan. No power locks or power windows (which is annoying, but you can get used to it,) but worse, no VENTS anywhere but in the front dash! Speaker system throughout, but no vents. Maybe I sound snobby, but I rather like the idea of my kids in the back of a van having air ventilation. It doesn’t matter how great the music is if you can’t breathe. Or see out the frozen windows in the winter.(?) Still, it’s a free replacement vehicle that fits the whole family, so every time we make fun of this “simple” van, we try to follow it up with an ‘at least we have something to drive’ statement. That’s the kind of good parents we are. Not spoiled at all.

Anyway, we were loading up yesterday afternoon to take Brayden to soccer practice. I opened the driver’s door and climbed in while Brayden hopped in the passenger side and was manually rolling down the window when suddenly, the horn started honking repeatedly. As though it had a panic system and we accidently pushed the red button on the keyless entry or tried to open a locked door. But did I mention this car is equipped with NOTHING? I hadn’t even put the key in the ignition yet! What could it possibly have sensed we were doing? It has no senses! Not even a light that showed it was honking. What could have triggered it? Since there was no possible way to stop the honking because there are what, four buttons in the car, we sat there with our hands in the air, laughing and confused, wondering what in the world to do. At this point, I’m thinking of all the neighbors who are wondering why we can’t turn our car alarm off and certainly staring out their windows at us. (I’m sure they weren’t, but that’s what it FEELS like when you’re embarrassed.) There really was nothing to be done. How long would it honk? I tried starting it up as proof that I had a key and therefore a right to be sitting in it, but this only increased the volume of the honking, which really didn’t seem possible. I guess we could have driven to soccer practice the loud way, but that seemed awfully drastic. And a little bit embarrassing. So, we did the only natural thing--we turned the car off, closed the garage door, and ran inside the house with our hands over our ears.

The honking did stop after we’d hidden in the house a few more minutes and we were able to gingerly load up and go merrily on our way, just a bit late. What did we learn from this? 1. Don't make any sudden movements when driving a "simple" van. 2. We want LeRoy back. No we didn't name him that, but those 10 days we actually got to drive him were gloriously honk-free. And air-conditioned. Snobville, here we come.

Let the Nesting Begin!

After my trip to the doctor yesterday, I am happy to report being at a whopping 0.4 cm. Okay, "happy" perhaps isn't the right adjective to describe how I feel about that, but it's better than nothing which is where I was with Fisher at this point. Therefore, we'll deem it a tiny victory, a less than 1/2 cm tiny victory, to be precise. At least something is happening. Ever so slowly.

We scheduled induction for October 9th, assuming I haven't had the baby before then. Despite the fact that I'm having increasingly exhausting and consistent false labor and feeling SO many more prelabor symptoms than I have in any other pregnancy, I'll still be a bit surprised to have the baby early. Maybe it's a mental thing, but for some reason, each of my boys have liked to stay put until they're coaxed at the last moment. Maddie, Miss Motivated, is my only baby that took matters into her own hands and decided to be born. Good girl. I'm left playing 'mind over matter' brain games, telling myself it IS possible this one could surprise me, boy or not. Can you will a baby to be born?? October 2nd is a good day for us.

Aside from trying to tolerate these last discouraging miles, I'd say nesting has begun! I'm struck at random times with lists of things that need cleaning, shopping that needs to be done, heads of hair that need cutting, bodies that need new fall shoes and jackets, cupboard/closet space needing to be emptied, tiny clothes and blankets to wash, and a myriad of other loose ends that need tying. Then I realize I'm not ready to give birth! And will I ever be?? Maddie & I rearranged her furniture and decor this morning and Brayden & I moved the crib in to assemble together. Somehow seeing a crib makes everything so real! The more we prepare, the more anxious we become. It's gotten easy for all of us to picture a tiny new person coming and fitting right in. Boy, I'm happy to feel that after such an overwhelming pregnancy. We just pray all goes well.

Also, we THINK we've decided on a name...! We're letting it settle before we're sure.

Oh, the Possibilities

Wow, have you seen the list?? With such overwhelming response this weekend, I am feeling (a) loved (b) happy that you care enough to offer ideas and (c) slightly paranoid that the reason for all the love is that you're truly concerned we're going to end up with Tony Portrey on the birth certificate, or worse, LeRoy. LeRoy Portrey. And why wouldn't you? Hmm, actually writing those names makes me think Rick has a cousin named Tony. And an uncle named LeRoy. Oops. Luckily they don't know about this blog. Crisis averted. Well, no matter your motivation, we're having fun with your ideas. Some even match contenders on our list! I believe that's a good sign. And yes, we do have a list. Maybe we'll share it with you after we introduce our new little guy...we're pretty excited around here!




Uhh, I feel I should admit that this picture was taken 3 months ago, but it's the only 'tummy' picture we've got and will remain so. I don't think I'd have much to complain about if I were that size today...

Toothless Wonder

Good news on the home front! Fisher and I set a goal that he would grow more than two teeth before he becomes a big brother. I haven’t thought he would make it but, at 16 months, he’s decided to make a valiant effort and is sprouting his 3rd tooth! As of today, there’s only a tiny suggestion that this is happening, but happening it is. We've got the drool, runny nose, and crankiness to prove it! Celebrate!! We even have 3 ½ weeks to really drive his accomplishment home before our deadline. Here he is “showing” his teeth: (in the first 12 seconds--I don't know how to shorten a camera clip)

And me trying to see the new ones:

No such luck. Flattering picture, though.

The Majesty and A Mystery

This is the view I long to see out the back of my next home. In our home now, I need to walk outside and turn my head to the east to see this, which doesn't seem like much to complain about. However, to see this while I'm at the kitchen sink, sitting at the dining table, in the family room, or relaxing on a back deck would never grow old. There is something about these Wasatch Mountains that speaks to my soul. I'll be driving the same streets I drive everyday and various images of them take my breath away day after day. They're as beautiful with sun streaming through clouds as they are in overcast, rainy weather or covered in white snow. I'm sure my family tires of me making such a big deal of them so often. You are probably tiring of me making a big deal of it right now. Last week, I heard a speaker say that C.S. Lewis believed the reason certain aspects of nature are so beautiful to us is that they stir in our hearts a subconscious longing for where we lived before this earthly home. Something like that, though I'm sure the actual quote is much more eloquent. I don't know where it's written (anyone?), but I figure he must be right because I can never seem to get enough...



Sigh.

On a lighter note...

This is a picture of what I commonly find inside our back door. In case you can’t tell, they are dead potato bugs. And a complete mystery to us. Why do they come inside? Why are they dead? Why do they die in groups? Why is this the only place we find them? How many has Fisher eaten without us realizing it?

Questions like these need answers. The other day, I actually witnessed a LIVE potato bug walking on the same tile. He was alone. Why wasn’t HE dead yet? Strangely enough, I scooped him up and released him into the wild. Now he can find his way back into our home and die naturally.

I just don’t get it.

Pirates & Paparazzi

Brayden recently made this commercial as part of a cereal box book report for school. It turned out to be a hilarious HIT among the 5th graders. Enough that his class watched it 5 times! Kids were telling him "I'll pay you $3 for a copy!" and still raving about it after school when I picked him up. He's supposed to bring the movie back to school because the kids that were absent just HAVE to see it and his teacher wants a copy for her students next year. We had a good laugh about all of it. It's sure fun when things go right for your kids. So far, Brayden is that 'I'm comfortable being me' kind of kid Rick & I both wish we'd been at his age. We hope this sticks. He's a great student and well-liked. He earned the 4th grade Team Player Award for his class, although he prefers to remember getting the less official Sense of Humor Award. Girls already notice him which triggers both my protective radar and proud meter (that means he's cute, right?) and we often hear humorous stories of the 5th grade social scene. Like on a fieldtrip to Timpanogos Cave a couple of weeks ago, the kids were allowed to bring disposable cameras and on the way there, one girl just kept clicking picture after picture of Brayden's face. Suttle. Funny, though. Happily, he still finds this type of attention more entertaining than anything, even if it does make him blush a little. I'm certain it'll all stay this innocent for 9 more years until he leaves on his mission. Shiver me timbers.

Counting Down

I saw the baby ticker and had to steal the idea. 26 days to go!? Last night this little baby rolled and stretched and did Tai Kwan Do for around 3 hours straight. He is very dedicated. I remember my other babies having their active times of day, but this guy leaves them in the dust. I'm thinking he's inherited the McGee fidget/twitch gene--the one that males in our family claim as their reason for constantly moving a leg or something they're holding without realizing it. I'm a bit of a fidgeter myself, so I suppose this baby comes by it honestly. I find it endearing despite being continually blind sighted by some kind of Karate Kid reenactment going on in there. It's a good thing he's cute. You see the ticker.

So with October 7th fast approaching, we're making space for baby in Maddie's room, adding a few frogs to her princess theme, and STILL trying to come up with a name!! We usually keep our name quiet until we introduce the new baby, but this time we couldn't spill the beans if we wanted to. What in the world do we name him?? Our family is continually throwing names around and running them down the kid list to see if they fit e.g. "brayden maddie connor fisher ____". We were doing this during dinner last night and this was Connor's suggestion: "braydenmaddieconnorfisher--bOb"

The 'o' is capitalized because this is exactly how he said it, followed by peals of laughter, of course. His VERY favorite is my rendition of "braydenmaddieconnorfisher--TOny" (with a thick Italian 'T'.) It makes him laugh every time. "Tony" has reemerged from Rick with each pregnancy since we were expecting Brayden. Short for Antonio, of course. Not a serious suggestion, just a relentless one that everyone finds wildly amusing. After 5 pregnancies I've tired somewhat of this little joke and have finally given in to this for a future dog. So, despite the fact that we can't name our real baby, we know that our pretend future dogs (I agreed to two just to hush everyone up) will be named Tony and Vinni. With suggestions like this...

We could use a few from you. Prizes for the winner!

My New Pets

Well, Rick made it safely back from Texas and since he rarely travels, he got home and passed out souvenirs for the kids. Then he turned to me with something in his hand and said he had something for me too! What a surprise, I thought, hmm, it's small, he knows I haven't been wearing my wedding ring...maybe it's a faker ring 'til the baby comes? He proceeded to open his palm, revealing a tiny box with not a ring, but 5 little brownish things that appeared to be nuts.

"Oh! Thanks! Uh, what are they?" I asked, trying to mask my surprise as he chuckled.

"They're Mexican Jumping Beans!" he announced, "Watch!"

We stared intently at the 5 beans. Nothing happened and I said, "They don't really move--it's a joke, right?"

"Sure they move and you have to read about them so you can care for them!"

"You got me a PET??" I asked, flabbergasted, and even as I said this, one of the beans MOVED! Jumping beans really jump? Apparently they do. Rick started to explain that there are larva inside each bean that make them move and I became more and more disgusted as each bean busted into action. It's not everyday you get larva-filled beans for a gift. Shucks, what's a girl to say? Maybe I can fashion a little ring out of them.

Needless to say, Mexican Jumping Beans really do jump. And they're noisy. I can hear them now clicking away on the counter. They're--weird. And oddly endearing until you remember that they have gross larva inside. What's the protocol on how long you keep irritating yet interesting beans for pets? I've read that Mexican Jumping Beans die instantly if they freeze. Hmm. I've also read that you can cut open the bean to see the live larva who, interestingly enough, will then spin a web to close off the opening. Now that's what I want to do. Nope, if one of those larva even tries to peek out, it's headed straight to the freezer.

All is Well

I'm apologizing for my rant earlier. I think I need to start making a list of things I shouldn't do when I need food because meaningless situations can head south pretty rapidly. The wind you hear is Rick vigorously nodding his head. He's not here, but I'm sure he's nodding. Apparently looking at blog formatting needs to be on that list. Contrary to what you now believe about me, I will not lose sleep over line spacing even though I threw a writing tantrum about it a few hours ago. All is well.

On a completely unrelated note, Rick gets back from his trip tomorrow night. How glad are we that he rarely leaves town? Writing tantrum. I really need to have this baby.

By the way, did you notice that there are TWO entries on this page? I decided I'm taking the high road on this one.

Growl

Okay. I got online to see if the two entries I wrote late last night made sense in the light of day and have been sitting here for...much too long, trying to get the format to match from post to post! Am I the only one who notices that some entries are single spaced while others are 1 1/2 spaced?? And I can't fix it!! Things like this make the back of my neck tingle. Is it so wrong to want a little uniformity? Maybe someone out there will agree with me, not think I'm nuts, and give me a solution. I can only hope. Until then, each post will be banished to its own page because I can't stand seeing the differences next to each other. Deep breaths. See? This is why I shouldn't scrapbook. Closing blog and walking away--

now.

What's in a Name?

Well, as I explained in the last post, we entered the big bad world of owning a Suburban. It's big, it's bad (well, compared to the van) and someone in the family who will remain unnamed (RICK) wants to name it LeRoy. I suggested we first come up with a name for our unborn child before doing anything drastic.

So when we got home with the new vehicle, everyone was anxiously loading up for our first drive, and Connor informed us that he had changed his name to "Chicken." We asked why, but he was suddenly far too distracted by things like drink holders and the sunroof to explain. The next morning, he reminded me his name was Chicken and I again asked why he decided to change it. "Because I change my name whenever we get a new car." Obviously.

Call me dismissive, but I haven't really expected "Chicken" to stick, especially since none of us call him that, nor has he asked us to, but he does bring it up here and there. Like yesterday when we were getting ready for the first day preschool, I asked him to get his new folder made by his teacher that says "Connor" on the front. He picked it up and said, "I guess they don't know I changed my name to 'Chicken' at preschool." I said they'll probably still need to call him Connor at preschool, to which he simply nodded and replied "Right." Apparently, it's enough just for him to know he's "Chicken" and the rest of the world can call him what they will. He's so wise.

Hey!? I just reread this entry and found myself singing after the first paragraph! You know, that song Bad Bad LeRoy Brown? That I REALLY didn't mean to reference? Great. Now we may have to name our vehicle LeRoy out of sheer writing coincidence. Curse you, clever inadvertency. Curse you, Jim Croce. I never knew that song was about an SUV. Shh, don't tell Rick.

Goodbye, Old Friend

All summer, as we wondered how our future would unfold (would we move, would we stay,) we've known that we'd need to be squished either at home or in the car once the baby comes. Not moving meant we'd instead upgrade to a bigger vehicle--which we did last week! It's an '03 Suburban with 40K miles, leather, sunroof, dvd and a lot of other computerized features that, frankly, we don't know how to operate yet. It was a great deal and we love it. We bought it through Carmax and will probably never shop at a regular dealership again. It was so easy!! And such a slick system. You can't believe how much time is saved when your salesman doesn't have to "go talk to his manager" every 3 minutes. We left feeling happy and satisfied and without a trace of a pit in our stomachs. We highly recommend it.

Despite the excitement of getting a new vehicle, our sentimental kids spent a little bit of time lamenting the disappearance of the good old van. (Waah, I miss the van, blah, blah, blah.) Even Rick saw the van (after we sold it and were cruising past on the freeway during our first drive in the Suburban, heh heh) sitting in the Carmax parking lot "all alone, under a lamppost" and felt a little like we were betraying an old friend. I, on the other hand, was ready to say goodbye. The list of (airquotes, please) "little things" going wrong with the van has been growing and growing and even though it was a great vehicle for us, our relationship was wearing thin. I believe the van sensed this very thing and was trying to ease the blow for us. Or for it. Like a defense mechanism.

Case in point: Literally on the way to Carmax to buy the Suburban, we stopped for gas because the van was on empty (no, we didn't fill it up) and for a quick carwash because everyone knows that a clean car distracts a dealership from things like rust and dings and broken power locks and a broken power door and 134,000 miles when they're appraising trade-in value. Duh. So, we're sitting in the carwash and the windshield cracks. From top to bottom. Right then. In the carwash! Also in the carwash, I notice that the gas gauge it still on 'empty' and the gaslight is still on. Now I know $20 doesn't buy as much gas as it used to, but really, I KNOW we just put fuel in. And the gauge didn't do that 'register late' thing after we drove away, or after Rick stopped to get some food in me (your windshield shouldn't break during a low blood sugar moment), or when we got to the dealership. Also, the anti-lock brake system light turned on, whatever that means. I blame the carwash and Murphy's Law and especially the van, even if it was just trying to get some last minute attention.

Like I said, the old friend made it easy to say goodbye. I like to think of it's lonely night under the lamppost as a well-earned, quiet retreat after 5 years of faithfully hauling us around. Or a timeout. Did I mention it's really nice driving a newer car?? Excuse me while I do a little dance. And run to the garage to make sure the big new thing is still there in all it's shiny glory.

It is.

Baby Llamas

The kids & I drive by three baby llamas on our school route everyday and I promised someone I’d take pictures, so we did on the way home yesterday. You’ll see why. Have you ever seen a baby llama? Well, our family hadn’t until a few short weeks ago and we’ll never be the same for it. Man, are they cute. We often stop at the side of the road to “awww” at them, point and giggle when they run, and try to figure out if they make any sounds. They’re fuzzy and awkward and skinny and big-eyed and…we want to take them home with us. I’ll let the pictures say the rest, however, they’ve grown a bit so you have to imagine them even skinnier and dumber looking to get the full effect:

Enough said. Is it just us?