Real Life

Previous to this June, I looked forward to "real life".  My husband and I would talk about it like we were dolls playing students in some warped game of "let's get into massive amounts of debt".  I had no idea how much of a financial bubble we lived in.  We didn't have a car payment.  Our "dumb" phones cost close to nothing. Our rent was VERY cheap.  We had no medical, dental, vision or heating bills.  Sometimes, we didn't even pay for groceries.  If you ever want to know the why and how people live off of the government, I am the lady to talk to.  Discount was my forte.  For years, my husband and I looked forward to the day when we would be contributing members of society.  Meanwhile, we paid out of state tuition for one of the most rigorous and expensive architect grad programs in the nation and amassed a ridiculous amount of student loan debt.

Fast forward to now.  We have been out of school for 6 months and have had reality slap us upside the head, and I have found myself wondering WHY on earth we were so eager to do "real life".  We have a new van with payments.  And smartphones.  Our rent has more than doubled.  We are paying for insurance, as well as a slew of bills related to pregnancy (who knew babies were so expensive?!).  I have joined the lovely club of Mormon moms who buy in bulk.  It's called Costco, and the opportunities to overspend are endless.  We have student loan payments.

A month ago, we decided to house shop in hopes of making a home before baby #3's impending arrival.  We found the perfect place.  It had a large yard, and was spacious with a fantastic kitchen.  Our realtor made an offer.  That was when we found out that within the last few months, a law was passed that requires ALL loan agencies to weigh the total student loan debt against your income before you can buy a home.  I won't go into the numbers, but essentially, this means that unless you have a crazy starting salary, you will not be able to buy a home without a co-signer.  Until you have paid off a significant portion of your loans.  Previous to this law, only your MONTHLY student loan payment was taken into account.

We do have some wonderful family members who have agreed to co-sign so we don't spend the next 20 years throwing away our money on rent.  But after much discussion and tightening our budget, we have agreed that all tax refunds, raises, bonuses, etc, will go straight to our student loans (which gather $10,000 of interest per year), in hopes of paying them off ASAP and then looking at "dream houses".  For now, we will be looking for a much cheaper home with the lowest mortgage payment possible.

Why does any of this matter?  Why am I telling you about our finances?  There is absolutely nothing funny about this post.  Kind of the opposite.  In fact, the last month has been one of the hardest on our marriage, and on both of us emotionally.  

I complained.  Why couldn't we have gotten in state tuition (even with him working for a design studio in KC)?  Why did we feel so strongly that KU was where we needed to be?  Why did the laws have to change with house buying?  Why do I have to have expensive c-sections?  Why did our car break down (thus the new van)?  Why can't we justify getting that nice home? Why do we move so often?!
  

Then I saw this:

 And I thought, "What is WRONG with me?!"  Um, hello?  I have been blessed beyond measure, along with most of the people in this great country.  I have clean drinking water.  Hot showers.  A roof over my head.  A family to love and to be loved by.  There hasn't been a day that I have had to worry about our home being bombed.  I have food, electricity, and (gasp!) the great blessing of having doctors who can give my body exactly what it needs to produce and birth my babies!  There are a slew of stores down the road where I can buy all the essentials and more.  Who am I to complain about student loan debt when I was able to get my Bachelors and my husband his Masters?  There are people out there who can't even read.  So what if I don't like the president?  At least I had the right to vote!  What a blessing it is to have a vehicle to make payments on.  What a gift it is to be able to have the ability to call/text anyone from anywhere with my expensive phone!  And passing up that "perfect home"?  At least I know that no matter where we move (be it the dumpiest place in the dumpiest neighborhood), it is more than what many dream of.  My washing machine is constantly full of clothes.  There are people whose entire bedding and clothing wouldn't fill it.  Why do I whine about bills?  At least my husband makes a good enough living that we are able to pay them!  The mess I complain about that my kids make consists of books, toys, blankets and an odd array of snacks- all of which we should thank our lucky stars for.

My point is, most of what I whine about in this "real life" that we are living are privileges that others will never get the opportunity to experience.  When I step back and look my problems, they are minuscule in comparison to what I could be dealing with.  Instead of complaining about the cost of Christmas, this year I want to remember to have a prayer of gratitude in my heart for the blessings and comforts of life that are mine to enjoy.  I am blessed.  You are blessed.  We are all blessed beyond measure.  

      

         

I love you when...

While I would like to say that the following is a typical morning for us, this scenario is typical of anytime we leave the house, be it 8 a.m. or 5 p.m.  I ask my 4-year-old son to get dressed.  If it is the a.m., he is in is p.j.s.  If it is any time after breakfast, he is typically dressed up as a combo of Spiderman, Ironman, Batman, or any number of Marvel/DC comic icons.  I proceed to shower.  And yes, often times, this happens WAY past when it should.  At this point my 3-year-old daughter is naked or wearing her Elsa dress.  

Me telling my son to get dressed is code for my daughter, "You need to be in your birthday suit, stat."  This would be helpful.  Except that a battle of wills ensues about what I want her to wear, vs what Elsa would wear.  Joshua then dumps out every toy bin, in search of that one thing that he HAS to take to (insert store/obligatory place) for fear that it will cease to exist without his holding it.  I use a very authoritative (ahem) tone to remind my son that he needs to get dressed.  My 3-year-old follows me around, whining hysterically that she needs her hair done NOW so that she can be beautiful while I get ready.  

Genevra wanted to do "selfies" with me. So we started with the angry face.  This is not even close to her angry face, but it is her "grumpy" look.

After tripping over my daughter's weeping, naked body at least 5 times and noting that each time I see my son, he is no closer to retiring his cape than before, I yell that if he does not get dressed, I am going to start counting.  15 minutes later, I inevitably start counting at decibels reserved for the command of great military armies being lead to their impending death.  He hates counting.  This  leads to a great wailing and nashing of teeth from all 3 parties involved. 

After my little diva finally has her wish granted of me doing her hair and the boy has found his clothes in a sea of toys, we make our way to the door.  Without fail, one or both kids are hungry and have to pee.  What would have taken a half hour or less if it were just me getting ready has taken 1.5 hours.  We are 10 minutes late.  Pretty sure my Dr (and everyone at church) would not recognize any of us if we arrived on time.  

There is one sweet part about our ridiculous morning.  I am not sure when or why it started but almost daily, my son, the primary victim of my wrath, approaches me while I am wresting his sister's shoes on (I WANT THE PRINCESS ONES!!!!)  He says, "Mommy, I love you even when you are mad."  The past month or so he had changed it up a bit.  "Mommy, I love you even when you are sad."  Or the one that really makes me feel like a chemical exposed, Hulk parent, "I love you even when you are scary."  I am ashamed to say that this last one has become typical.

This cuts me to the core.  I am not the mom I should be.  Really, no kid should have to say that they love their parent even when they are scary.  In my head, it's okay for me to love my kid when they are being a screaming mess of boogers because they are MY mess of boogers, but my kids are too young to return the favor.  If they hate me (as I probably deserve). while I am yanking them by the appendages to get out the door, I am accepting of that.  Most likely, they will love me once more when I am not the human pressure cooker.

Loving people is hard.  Knowing that they are a child of God helps, but even then, I struggle.  Many times, loving my eternal companion is a struggle.  I thought after 6.5 years of marriage, it would all of the sudden be easy.  Not so.  There is a lot of tolerance and forgiveness that happens on both sides.  But my kids continue to demonstrate to me that they have a Christlike love that transcends my yelling and intolerance for their perpetual ignoring of my requests.  This love isn't required for me to love them.  Yet they show that forgiveness and love toward me that I have yet to give to so many others around me.  The scripture from Mosiah 3:19 has sunk deep into my mind of late:

 For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child,submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.

I can't find the words right now to express exactly what I am trying to convey.  I let the natural man rule on SO many occasions.  My children love me, even when I am far removed from showing them the compassion and patience they deserve.  They set a standard of submissiveness, patience, and love in our home that I one day hope to emulate.  

I know why the Lord asks us to become like children.  They demonstrate what we work so hard to become and fall short of everyday: close to Christ and His unconditional love.

3 A.M. Escapades

  

You see that kid with the wild bed hair and the crazed look of a sleep deprived, overtired 4-year-old?  This is my son.  He and my daughter are my sunshines, and I love them very much.  But sometimes I wonder if my kids leave me sleep deprived just so they can take advantage of my delirium.  I am fairly certain that there was a family meeting held consisting of my 4-year-old, my 3-year-old, and the unborn little girl I am carrying.  Though I am not certain how this meeting took place, I am certain that it involved my son manipulating the youngest one into keeping me from sleeping until all hours, and waking me up to pee without the respite of being able to fall back asleep.

Needless to say, the last few days have left me drained and zombie like.  This is a good refresher training for newborn parenting, but makes for awful judgement calls.

At 3 a.m. yesterday morning, I woke to light streaming through our half way open bedroom door.  Upon investigation, I found my son.  Surrounded by coloring pages and some crayons, he was laying sprawled on the carpet, furiously scribbling the face of a character red.  It would have crossed my mind to call the instance a dream and go back to bed, except that my son asked, "What are you going to do with me today, mama?"  I hate that daily question because it suggests that I am obligated to keep this kid entertained and wound up like a battery operated toy.  I wouldn't dream that question.

I responded by asking WHY he was awake.  This was followed by a shrug and, "I didn't want to sleep anymore." And then a repetition of that irritating question.  

It's times like this when I realize the vast difference between my kids and myself.  Who doesn't want to sleep anymore?!  You know that story of Rip Van Winkle, the guy who slept for 100 years?  Since becoming a mother, I have been insanely jealous of him.  And if there were a black market for exchanging body parts for 100 years of pure sleep, you can bet I would be on that deal with a kidney in tow.

"I am going to put you back in bed.  It is not today yet and it's too early to be doing anything besides sleeping."  I tucked the kid back in bed and then did the big-bellied ritual of trying to get comfy so I could get some shut eye.  Fifteen minutes later I was half asleep when I was awakened to my son crawling into bed with me.  

"Mama."

"What?!"

"I need you to open these."     

At this point, things are a little hazy.  But this morning I woke up to find Hershey wrappers in our bed and a boy passed out and drooling between my husband and I.  He had chocolate on his face and judging from the sticky aftertaste in my mouth, he hadn't been the only one to partake.  (So much for letting him "just sleep" with his Halloween booty next to him.)  

I let myself feel guilty for about 10 seconds.  Then I reminded myself that at 3 a.m. with limited sleep the previous nights, I was not in any position to deny my kid, or myself, chocolate.  If we both disappoint the dentist at our next visit, so be it.  Call me a bad mom but if the situation was repeated, I would still wake up with Hershey wrappers surrounding me.

The Cupcake Encounter

Day 1 of my writing-for-a-month challenge:

You know how there are some stories that are just a little too humiliating to laugh at?  Well, I have a ridiculous bunch of those waiting to be told.  If anyone who reads this has the same sadistic humor that I do, you will appreciate the fact that it happened to someone else.

We moved back to Utah in June.  I was an unfamiliar face among the neighbors, and thought I would try and get to know them a bit more by taking over miniature cupcakes.  This was the first time I used our little mini cupcake maker since I bought it on a whim a couple years ago.  They looked perfectly round, and smelled lovely.  I made frosting, and our little family headed out to deliver them to a couple of families I had met in passing. 

Neither my husband nor I had any idea in exactly which townhome one of these families lived.  Only that they were somewhere in our general vicinity.  After spending the last several years in Lawrence, Kansas, I had forgotten that everyone and their dog owns a double stroller.  SO, when we came across a home with two little ride-on toys and a double jogger sitting outside the front door, I just knew we had reached our destination. 

I knocked on the door, confident that I would come face-to-face with the mother of three boys, two of which were my kid’s age.  Instead, a man I didn’t know answered the door.  Four kids came streaming out onto the sidewalk, gazing longingly at the plate of four little cupcakes I was holding. 

“Um… You are not who I thought you were,” I said stupidly.  (Josh was standing behind me, and I think this is the part where he put his hand to his forehead.) 

The guy didn’t say anything, but looked like having someone deliver cupcakes by accident—not enough to feed the family—was worse than opening the door to Jehovah’s Witnesses. 

Since no one was about to dig me out of my own verbal disaster, I handed him the plate.  “We wanted to meet our neighbors.  We are the Kirkmans.” 

“Thanks.  We are the Hansons (name changed here;).”  Awkwardly, we turned on our heels and went home.  Josh had the decency to not say anything… Until I said, “Well I feel stupid.”  He agreed, and then suggested that maybe we look up the address of the people I had intended the cupcakes for.

After delivering the goodies to the right home, I came home and attempted to drown my humiliation in the sweet goodness of confectionary perfection.  Up until this point, my kids had been the only recipients of them.  To my dismay, the bite was mostly goo. 

In my rush to get the treats delivered before bedtime, I didn’t read the instructions.  It makes sense that if it looks done on the outside, it’s done all the way through.  I wanted to bawl.  But my throat was too clogged from cupcake batter to muster up tears.  Instead I texted the mom of 3 boys with a profuse apology. 

This was her response: “Oh really?!  I thought it was crème filled!” 

It was nice of her to think so...or at least nice of her to lie about it.

When I asked, "Why?"

There is a gigantic, green bowl sitting next to me, and a package of saltines next to that.  The saltines are to keep my stomach from getting empty, and the bowl is where I empty my stomach.  No one wants to know those kind of awful details, but this is my blog, and this is the reality I am experiencing right now.
Pregnancy is awful.  It really is.  Anyone who says anything different is either lying or delusional.  From the constant revulsion at all foods that smell or taste stronger than dry flour, to the complete energy suck, building a baby is no fun.  This week was the worst one (for this pregnancy) so far.  I won't go into the details except to say that late Thursday, after not being able to keep anything down (including medication) for what seemed like forever, I felt like I really needed to go to the instacare down the road.  I had no idea that I was burning up with a fever from severe dehydration, but I followed my feelings and came away grateful that I listened.
 I have been prone to ask my Heavenly Father on more than one occasion, "Why?  Isn't it enough that we are taking the leap and bringing another one of your spirit children into our home?  I know I am one of so many countless other women who are made so weak and frail during pregnancy.  WHY does it happen to any of us?"
Josh was at a meeting this evening and I lay on the couch, wondering how on earth I would get my kids to stay in bed, when I got a phone call.  It was my visiting teacher.  This is our church's "assigned friend", who often times blossoms into a real friend.  She checks in on me, and if things are not going so great, she figures out a way to help out.  Since we haven't been here that long, and I have turned into the world's biggest recluse, I don't really know her.  But this woman had heard that I was struggling.  I explained the kind of dread that came with each new day, and she was silent for a moment before relating to me the horrors of her own morning sickness and saying, "I have been there.  It is hard.  I know exactly how you feel, and I am SO sorry."
Those words were my answer.  I had heard them before, but somehow, hearing them from a stranger hit home.  Women are strong.  We build families.  We build homes.  We give our bodies to the growing of children.  We carry burdens that are enormous, and at times, overwhelming to the point of total exhaustion.  Why are we brought so low during pregnancy and in the years of child rearing beyond that?  I think it is so that we can succor each other.  We share in struggles so universal that when another suffers, we immediately empathize.  Women need other women to be the answer to one another's most heartfelt prayers; to be those mortal angels that can relate to one another.  Knowing that my visiting teacher truly understood the kind of struggle I wrestled with gave me the comfort I so desperately needed.

I testify of angels, both the heavenly and the mortal kind.  In doing so I am testifying that God never leaves us alone. never leaves us unaided in the challenges that we face. -Elder Jeffery R. Holland in "The Ministry of Angels"
   

Light at the end of the tunnel.

That's right, folks.  My main man is graduating with his Masters of Architecture in May.  For all the whining I have done about how little our family has seen him, closing this chapter in our lives is going to be one of the hardest things we have ever done.  Lawrence has been more a home to both Josh and I than anywhere we have lived.  Most of the families within our church ward also live far from family, and because of that, there is a deep spirit of unity among them.  I've clung to their friendships during the some  of my darkest days; the ladies in this ward have been my surrogate sisters, mothers and grandmothers to my children.  That said, we will bloom where we are planted;)

Josh and I had absolutely no expectation of moving back to Utah.  Not that we didn't want to be closer to extended family, but Josh's work connections and associations have all been within the Kansas City metro area.  We were close to certain that even with applying for companies in the Salt Lake valley, they would not hire some Joe who had no previous affiliation with the U of U program.

SO Josh interviewed.  And interviewed.  Since February, he has had 8 interviews and 2 more that he is going to cancel, all while continuing his internship at PULSE Design.  We were offered a financially promising spot at nation wide firm in St. Louis that designs primarily airport and factory facilities.  They were going to pay for all expenses incurred with the 4 hour move.

Then Josh had a call from a small company called AJC Architects, in Salt Lake.  They skyped.  And then soon thereafter called with an offer.  It is not quite as lucrative.  BUT the benefits are amazing, and the work they do is varied and based on the opinion of their employees.  This means they design everything from libraries to visitors centers at national parks, to higher education buildings.  ALSO, instead of spending every extra penny on trips back to Utah, we will already be there!

We had a huge decision to make, and after taking it to the One who knows better than us what we need most, we are taking a leap of faith and moving to the Salt Lake valley soon after graduation.  For those of you in Utah, I can't wait to see you.  For those of you here in Lawrence, I can't tell you how desperately I wish there was a way to take everyone I love and pocket them.    

Pictures and updates pending...

Summer Stuff

 Josh and I found this 8 man tent for 75% off at Dicks and decided that it would be his Father's Day/birthday present.  We put it to good use at Clinton Lake.  He couldn't wait for actual camping to set it up.  So this is the test run in our living room.

 We went to the Crown Center (Hallmark card's headquarters) several times this summer.  The kids love the Storyland (interactive books) and Kaleidoscope (crafts set up by Hallmark).

 Genevra is 2!  AH!  Her all time favorite food is french fries.  SO that's what we ate for her birthday.  French fries.

 Pulse paid for all of its employees to go to a Royals game.  I have never been a baseball fan.  But going to that game nearly had me converted.

 Genevra and Joshua both decided that the best part about the beach is being buried in the sand.  Genevra threw a fit when I tried to pull her out of it.

 First day of "school".  Genevra was so disappointed when she found out she would be taking a nap rather than going with Joshua.

 We had many panty/diapers only days this summer.  95 degrees is not unbearable until you add the humidity, and then it's like you are being baked til golden brown.

This picture needs no explanation.  Boy having fun.

My kiddos have picked up several new hobbies.  This is the new favorite.  It is called, "let's-empty-the-toy-chest-climb-inside".  This hobby is very family oriented.  They dump.  I try to get them to pick up.  Then I pick it up.  By myself.  Happy day.

Right now, I should probably be crying my eyes out.  Joshua went to his first day of pre-preschool at United Methodist Kids First.  When I said goodbye to him there was no clingy-ness, and he barely looked up from the chalkboard he was coloring on to say, "Bye".  That should have broken my heart, but honestly, it was a confirmation that he needs this almost as badly as I do.   Yes, he is only 3.  Yes, we are students who probably shouldn't be forking out any extra money for something that I could replicate at home.  But guess what?  It is quiet.  I am writing.  Genevra is sleeping.  Josh is at work. And it is quiet.
I like this.

So with that introduction, it is time for our semi-annual update.

The longer I have been a mother, the more I realize how easy it is to loose your identity and individuality with all of the monotony that is laundry, grocery shopping, housework, cooking, etc.  Once in a while, I like to take a moment to remember that I am a person too and my needs matter as much as my children's.  To avoid running on empty, I have been making a mad dash to the door the minute Josh gets home from work.  He is a rock star for being willing to put the kids to bed by himself (it's usually not a two way street here...he likes putting them to bed by himself...I don't).   These outings are me going to lift at the Rock Chalk Park, going window shopping, or to the library by myself, or meeting up with a friend.  At this point, I would normally apologize or make an excuse for needing this time to myself.  But I am not going to.  Not today, at least.

Josh started working at Pulse Design Group in Lenexa as soon as he was finished with his May-mester of sustainable design.  He has struggled going from the challenge and excitement of designing in a studio setting to being stuck in a cubicle doing intern stuff, but he likes the company and it has really been nice to have income that didn't come with interest (loans).   His church calling takes up quite a bit of time, but the more he hangs out with the missionaries, the more he likes them.  Josh is awesome to take me on weekly dates.  Most of the time they are simple things that happen after the kids are in bed, but that measly hour or two a week has helped our marriage weather some of the typhoon that has been Josh's schedule/program.

I am not sure where this summer went.  The kids and I spent a lot of time at the wading pool, library story time, toy store (they have some awesome play tables), park, lunch program, camping, the Crown Center in KC, Clinton Lake beach, free movie theatre, open gymnastics at the Rock Chalk Park, etc.   Summer time around here is great because Lawrence and the surrounding area offer a variety of activities for kids during the summer and most of them are free to super cheap.  With school starting up, a lot of these activities have ended and we are trying to find alternative ways to keep busy and avoid the cooped up claustrophobia that happens from being inside our apartment all day.

Joshua is doing 3 days a week  preschool for two hours (I don't count the 30 drive time) each time.  Josh and I feel very blessed that the United Methodist Church has a scholarship fund for students with children pre-school age.  Not only will this give Joshua the much needed time away from his grumpy mom and biting sister, but it will give him a chance to grow in ways that he can't here.

Genevra turned 2!  Her birthday came as a bit of a surprise.  Life has happened so fast, it's kind of surreal that she has been a part of our family for 2 whole years.  Genevra is my light and my bright ray of sunshine.  If I had to pick one word to describe her, it would be "happy".  She has a disposition that is very bubbly and fun loving.  It takes a lot to make her angry and not much to make her smile.  She is talking more with each passing day, but despite her cheerful little spirit, her favorite thing to say is "NO", while doing a very forced, very fake frown.      

We did have some visits this summer.  My brother, Dallin, and his lovely wife, Karlie, made the trek out here.  It was SO much fun.  The kids enjoyed it so much that Joshua's pretend friends are named "Karlie" and sometimes, "Dallin".  He tells me that he went swimming with Karlie and that Karlie was on the slide with him at the park.  The best I can figure his logic is a make believe friend.

My other brother, Nic, was married in Gilbert, AZ to Tiffany Coon.  And my sister, Anna, was married in Manti, UT to Kevin Clawson.  Although I doubt the timing of their weddings had anything to do with the time/money it took us to travel home, we were very grateful that they threw the two weddings together on short notice and we were able to be there for both, as they were only a week apart.  Yeah, my mom was amazing for pulling it off.  Coming home for a wedding is always a good thing (same thing happened last summer), because it gives us a chance to catch up with family that we would have missed, due to our never being home for reunions.

This blog post was scattered, but oh well.  Maybe if afternoons are for real going to be like this, I could write an update more often and include those fantastic details you are dying to read about (kidding).  I was actually able to write it within a very short time span, completely uninterrupted by whining.  Score!

Destination internship: Pulse Design.

Life is a strange and wonderful thing.   It seems like just a minute ago, Josh and I were wondering what the point of getting a Bachelor's was if the possibility of finding work was so slim.  I was scared out of my whits of our new baby boy.  Basically everything he did was advanced algebra and I had only begun long division (marriage).  My mom had a business trip to Lawrence, Kansas, and asked if we would like to come along for the drive.

When we came here, it was like stumbling upon a garden of all the foods we didn't know we were craving.  There were trees up the wahzoo, water in places that had nothing to do with irrigation, and a moistness in the air that quenched our Utahan-dry-skins.  We had "baby bear syndrome" as we drove around town.  Everything about it felt "just right"--not too big, and not too small.  Just right.

Josh was drawn to the grad program here mostly because of the Studio 804 3rd year option, which included students designing and then actually building what they designed.  Our plan was that he do that his last year.  But after serious thought and prayer, Josh decided to go with the Healthcare Internship Option instead, where he will learn how to design healthcare facilities in such a way that both the patients and the providers' have a better environment for healing and development.  After applying for several internships, Josh was offered as spot as a paid intern at Pulse Design Group in Lenexa (an outlying suburb of Kansas City, 40 minutes East of Lawrence).

Both Josh and I are conflicted about his interning here.  Don't get me wrong.  We are immensely blessed that he found an internship in the first place and with such a great company, but Kansas City is more than double the population of Salt Lake City, which means more than double the opportunities for work after school.  We had always planned to move back to the Salt Lake valley after school and have Josh become licensed in Utah.  But our feelings about this bit of the mid-West haven't changed.  It is still "just right".    

Plans are funny things.  They change on a moments notice.   And they are never solid.  For now, "the plan" is to take what work we find, including taking post internship offers (if they are given), even if it is 17 hours away from the people we love most in the world.  But then again, I think plans are our way of giving the Lord a good laugh.  So come what may, and love it.

(For those of you who have already heard me talk and talk and talk -way too much- running, you can skip this next part;).

On a very different note, I ran the Free State Trail 1/2 marathon last month.  It began when the clouds opened up an let out a tropical typhoon and ended about the same time it began to drizzle.  By the time I crossed the finish line, I found mud in crevices I didn't know I had and my knees felt like they were broken in ten places.  It was a BLAST.
After much mulling it over, I finally figured out why I like running.  Being a homemaker, my every day is filled a ton of things started, and only about one or two finished.  I will start a load of laundry only to hear Joshua crying that he can't get the peanut butter open, but has already smeared honey all over the counter.  Before I can clean up the honey, Genevra starts screaming because she can't get her shoes on.  You get the picture.  I only have two wonderful kids, but at times, they are like a small army programmed to make messes.  And there is SO much that does not get finished.  And there are nights interrupted by feet up my nose and pee in my bed where I wake up too tired to have motivation beyond running a couple miles.  If nothing else, at the end of the day, it's nice to say I accomplished those few miles.  It feels great to have set this half marathon goal and have met it head on.
My participating in other long distance events depends mostly on the verdict my physical therapist passes on my knees sometime in the next month.  In the mean time, I will enjoy running for the bit of accomplishment it adds to my day.

This is a classic Joshua reaction to snow:  let's see how many people I can destroy with this powdery goodness.

So I'm not sure we will buy Christmas gifts next year.  My babies spent more time in one of the packaging boxes than they did with the present that came in it.

We went tubing while visiting family.  This picture was taken while they were flying down a hill.  Kid you not when I say Genevra's expression never changed.  It was like, "Hey mom.  I feel like I'm flying down a slow covered hill everyday.  This is no big deal."

This is Olaf the 2nd.  He was created while visiting grandparents over Christmas break.  Olaf the 1st died in our backyard. 

I run slower than Internet Explorer on dial-up, but I do run;)

Our semi-annual family news blip goes something like this:

Around about the time Genevra was 16-months-old, she decided to abandon her primary mode of walking on all fours and evolve to two.  Joshua started walking around 11 months, and so I was a bit concerned that we would forever be tripping on Genevra, but I guess it had to be her choice in her own time.  She is picking up on many phrases from Joshua that leave me wondering if we are reaching the teenage phase 12 years early.  Most commonly used words in our household from both Joshua and Genevra at the moment are "NO!" and "that's MINE" and "go away" and "leave me alone"...punctuated with the occasional, "Oh my heck!".  Yes, my kids adorable.  No, really, they are.  It's just a matter of not laughing when I hear these phrases.  

In case you couldn't tell from Joshua's rhetoric, he turned 3 last month.  With this new found three-ness has come a wide range of surprising new discoveries, such as the ability to connect a facial expression with a mood.  His latest thing has been giving us mood updates like its a weather forecast.  "Today, Gennenna is cry-cry-crying.  She is sad.  Mama is mad.  Angry-face-mama.  And Jah-da is happy.  Smiling Jah-da."  Apparently, I need to work on smiling more to avoid having the Native American name of "angry-face-mama".  

We stay busy in the mornings going to story time at the library, the Prairie Park Nature Center, open gym at the Rec Center, the Toy Store on Mass, and our little music group on Fridays.  Although it still is like pulling teeth to get out the door (will I ever get used to two kids?!), these little activities are our sanity savers during the times when it is WAY too cold to get out.  Side note: It's snowed here about a total of 3 times, none of which has been enough to cover the grass.  BUT it is dang cold.  Like I think we could make a lot of money by renting out Josh's truck bed to people who want to be cryogenically frozen.  

November was a good month for me.  I met the Na(tional No(vel) Wr(iting) Mo(nth)--Nanowrimo-- challenge of writing 50,000 words, which felt great.  I may not be the most skilled at it, but I love writing.  And doing that was like meeting up with a very good friend for the first time since graduating college.  I also ran the Lawrence Thanksgiving 5K.  For most people, this is not a big deal.  But considering that only two years and a half years and one child ago, I was convinced the only reason to run was if you were being chased by the four horsemen of the apocalypse, a 5K is huge.  And now I am training for a 1/2 marathon (13 miles) in April.  The idea is comparable to walking on coals.  It will be painful and boarderline insane, but I'm hoping to come away feeling like a conqueror.  

Josh and I were both let go from the primary.  It was a bitter sweet release from this church assignment.  We both had become pretty attached to the kids we taught, but were ready for change.  Josh is now the ward mission leader.  It's like primary on steroids sometimes.  Josh gets to go out with the missionaries quite a bit, has weekly meetings with them and other ward leaders, and does what he can to help further the work.  We are officially more than halfway done with this circus called Master's school!  And I can't say enough how excited we both are.  Josh does a stellar job at balancing his studio (might as well call that class a full-time job), regular classes, callings, and helping out when he can, but I will be so ready to have my man home before 10 pm again.  I am convinced that after teaching while doing all the normal jazz last semester, he can't get much busier.  

Anyway, we like life.  It is crazy and exhausting.  But you know what?  It's a pretty good one.

Stuff that will (one day) be funny.

I have thought about posting countless times in the last six months, but every time I get around to it, and think about all that has happened this last summer, I really don't want to take the time to re-cap.  So we will just say that we had a very busy, very lovely summer.  Josh went to Germany.  We went to Utah.  My younger brother got married to a wonderful lady.  Genevra turned one (where did a year go?!). We made almost every weekend we were home a tourist destination, visiting the family must-sees of KC area.

That being said, I am zoning in on this week, more for my therapy than anything else.  

Monday, I saw my first official brown recluse.  Aside from pet spiders, I have never seen a spider that large in real life.  When I turned on the light in our bathroom, it didn't move.  And I was too mortified (yes, I have a deep and abiding, irrational fear of spiders) to step on it.  So we had a stand off.  He --only a man would have the nerve to invade personal space so unabashedly-- didn't move until I slowly reached to grab our spider spray.  And when he did move, he scuttled.  This means he was so large, I heard a noise when he moved.  Kid you not.  I used the rest of our can of spider spray in hopes of killing the beast.  However, since there was no direct contact before it got away, we are all ultra nervous about sitting on the pot.

Tuesday, I tried another experimental online quinoa recipe for the missionaries to eat.  It was awful.  Like I think it might have been intended for a health nut whose taste buds are accustomed to drinking straight fish oil.  And the deceptive recipe claimed to serve 4.  So I doubled it, thinking leftovers would be great in Josh's lunchbox.  Now we have about two gallons worth of disgusting quinoa casserole, and I think the only way it is going to be eaten is if there is a sudden ice storm and we run out of eggs and ramen.  I did redeem my cooking skills somewhat with pumpkin bread.  After a month of not eating sugar, I wolfed down 3/4 of a loaf in one sitting.  

Wednesday, I paid the price for my gluttony, laying in bed, wondering if my stomach was trying to secede from my body.  Josh took the day off and was at his best.  He babied me, cleaned the house, and even went shopping.  By the end of the afternoon, I found him laying on the floor, asleep.  He opened one eye and said he wanted to go back to school.  Apparently, keeping house and nannying is kind of hard.  Josh had scored a super good deal on opera tickets through one of his professors.  Not wanting to waste money, we got spruced up and some lovely ladies from the ward came over and watched Joshua and Genevra.  The Kauffman Center was gorgeous.  Josh could have spent the whole 3 hours hanging out in the hundred-million dollar, architectural masterpiece of a lobby, while I thoroughly enjoyed  "La Traviata" by Verdi.  

It's only 12 p.m. and I am ready to throw in the towel.  I am feeling eons better than yesterday, but still icky.  Feel free to judge me when I say that I fed my children breakfast, turned on the TV, and shut the baby gate so I could go back to bed.  When I came upstairs an hour later, Genevra was covered.  COVERED in poo.  A good portion of the carpet was covered in poo.  paint chips littered the floor, and there is now a huge patch of the wall that is paintless.  It wasn't hard to deduce that Joshua was trying to make it to the toilet, which is downstairs, and stripped.  He then preceded to work hard at opening the baby gate, chipping away at the paint.  Since I was dead to the world, he couldn't make it.  Genevra still gets around on all fours, and must have been quite gleeful at finding brown play dough to smear over every surface.

If any of my single, or baby-less friends read this, please know that more often than not, children are quite enjoyable...even charming.  But then there are days where you feel like they are in league with the devil, working hard to be the straw that breaks your back and leaves you rocking and huddled in a corner.  

On that note, my babies are going to take an early nap.  My destination: treadmill.

Potty Everywhere

Joshua is posing for this.  And Genevra is ready for this hug to end.

My babies will despise me one day for this, but it had to be posted.  Too cute not to.

Spring break for us was found in the great city of Omaha.  The geese park was Joshua's favorite, while I preferred the visitor's center for the LDS temple.

Checking out the Easter egg hunt booty.  He was so preoccupied with the goodies in the one egg, we had a hard time finding others;)

There are several books and articles that cite all of the many signs to indicate that your child is ready to potty train.  About a month ago, Joshua was hitting about 7 of 10 of the signs of readiness.  He knows when he needs to go, wakes up with a dry diaper, is interested, etc., etc.  So we bought a fun little hippo potty that sings and reads a story.  For about the first two weeks, I was excited.  We did a "pee-pee dance", cheered, and doled out stickers like they were going out of style.  Joshua was enamored with the idea of a little seat just for his stuff, and I was looking forward to a bright future of just one diapered bum in the Kirkman household.  #1 was smooth sailing- as long as his lower half was naked.  #2-- not so much (I would find brown surprises left in odd places for me).  There is a very deep rooted fear of bowel movements going on in my little boy's head.  I won't go into the gory details, but today, Joshua had diarrhea.  Need I say more?  Let it be written that today was one of the longest days of my career as a mother.  For anyone who has gone through potty training and all of the misery it entails, I ask that you send me great, warm, virtual hugs of sympathy.  I need them.  Thanks.
On a happier note, the weather is warming up to a balmy 90 degrees.  Last week, we were in the mid-40s.  It was a fast, but very welcome transition.
I hosted book club last month and made the Jewish traditional challah bread in honor of reading "The Chosen" by Chaim Potok.  (Amazing book.)  It was a hit...and made me wish we were Jewish, so I could feel obligated to go to that kind of work for that kind of goodness every Sabbat.  More recently, with the help of some women in the ward, I threw a baby shower for a friend of mine.  The idea of a baby shower was daunting, but with the help of friends, it was a success.  And now I am not so fearful of trying to host something so grown up.
Josh is busy.  He is always busy.  For anyone who has done grad school, you know that 18 credit hours (this includes a studio!), is suicidal.  His professors have said as much.  All I can say is that this semester has been rough.  There are times when I wonder why we are doing this to ourselves and how on earth we are going to make it through this week, let alone 2 more years.  The thought that fuels both Josh and I is that we felt SO right about our decision to do this in the first place.  Josh frequently reminds me that President Uchtdorf has said, "Doubt your doubts, before you doubt your faith."  I have faith that the Lord would not ask such hard things of us only to let us fall on our faces.
Genevra is fat.  And beautiful.  She is my bright, happy little ray of sunshine.  When I lay her on the floor, she rolls from one end of the room to another and then back again, and big smile on her face.  I couldn't have asked for a sweeter bit of heaven than what we have been blessed with in her.    

Utah and the Ex-Utahans

Daddy helping Joshua open birthday presents.  Joshua is sporting his Hungarian hat that Auntie Joy brought back from her mission.

Joshua and Kyle Gardner (cousin) at the bonfire.  Would you believe Joshua is 7 months older than Kyle?!  He is a shrimp, but a cute one.

Bonfire!!!

Great-Grandpa Ed's work horses.  Don't quote me on this, but I think they are Perchin.

Genevra with her first Teddy.  Can't get enough of her fat face;)

Grandpa John with Genevra at Joshua's birthday party.

Grandpa DeGraffenried taking Joshua for a horse ride.

Not the greatest of pictures, but I love it.  Daddy and Joshua at the pool, playing basketball.

These are my treasures.  And they seem to love each other, even though Genevra looks a bit skeptical about the situation.

University of Kansas was kind to us (and everyone else) this year, and gave us a 5 week break in between fall and spring semesters, which was more than a little deserved.  Our travel log follows this brief side note:  I won't throw the pity party I want to, whining about how this semester, I felt like divorced marriage with visitation rights.  Josh would pop in on the weekends to play dad and husband for Saturday morning and all Sunday, and then it was back to the grindstone.  It goes without saying that we are thrilled to have a summer and fall semester down!
Around 4 p.m., right after Josh's last final, we made our exodus back to Zion (Utah).  Although the longer I live away from Utah, the more both Josh and I agree that Zion is not a place, but more a state of being.  Anyway, we were making great time until about soon after Denver.  From there, it was downhill.  We ended up having to pull over around 4 a.m. for Josh to catch a few Zs, hoping all the while that the snowplows would make an appearance.  We didn't make it to one of my best friend and cousin, Pam DeGraffenried's, wedding in the Salt Lake City Temple.  BUT I will never forget the surge of gratitude for our safety and such an amazing friend when she walked through the temple doors and I was there to give her a hug;).
Our visit home was very eventful and grand.  We paraded around with our two screaming (for lack of sleep) babies, gracing everyone with our presence.  The Tippetts Christmas party was nice with good food and great people.  Josh's aunt Sharron and her hubby were able to visit Josh's parents from California while we were there, and as well as his sister, Julie and her friend.  After 2 long years of working on the Fort Lauterdale, FL temple on a mission, my DeGraffenried Grandparents came home.  Grandpa gave all of his grandkids a hay ride out to Blackrock in Kanosh, where we warmed up to a bonfire.  We spent New Year's Eve with Pammy and her new husband, Daniel.  Josh and I caught up on a semester's worth of missed dates, soaking in the plethora of free sitters.  My family went horseback riding in the mountains with Josh and Joshua, and then headed to Gunnison for swimming.  (You'd think it was summer with all the sporting events, but it was actually pretty dang cold).  We watched my brother Eddy wrestle in Juab, not to mention spending many a great day with Grandma and Grandpa Kirkman on the 4-wheeler and eating junk food.
Joshua turned TWO on January 5th!  We had a party for him at my parent's, and I really think the highlight of it for him was ripping off the wrapping paper.  I can't believe my baby boy is a full-blown toddler, complete with catch phrases like, "NO!" and "Why?"  One of Josh's favorite things to say is, "If that boy weren't so cute, I would paddle his butt."  I doubt he really would do any butt paddling, but I concur.  Joshua is my little man and my favorite mess maker (Genevra isn't making messes yet and Josh is a neat freak).  He lights up my world in a way that only he can.  I read somewhere once that the Lord sends certain spirits to certain parents for a reason.  They are the parents who can raise and handle those children in a special way that no one else could.  I am a firm believer in this principle.
While we were home, Genevra was nick-named "Tender".  My sister insists that it is her fluffy, fat rolls that somehow link her to this name; although my mom thinks of pink meat and I think of a weepy old lady when we hear this.  Either way, she has the sure foundation of a Wal-Mart Super Center supporting a chicken coop.  AKA- She is rolly polly fat on her bottom and thighs without nearly as much chub up top.
We had a blast at home, surrounded by tons of family and friends.  But it's SO good to be back, living our own lives and sleeping in our own beds.
P.S.  Josh got a portable DVD system for Christmas, making the drive home a breeze.  Not including from Grand Junction to Denver--that seems to be our Achilles Heel on our drives to and from Utah.              

And then there were four!

This smile makes up for his bad moments.

From our back yard!

Couldn't quite capture the full-fledged smile, but this came close.

WOW! "Wow" is the only word that really encompasses our lives for the past two months. Here at home, I have been trying to keep my head above water with two babies. Joshua is going to be two in January, but until he is potty trained and feeding himself (without me living in fear that there will be food all over the walls), he is still a baby. Joshua has started waking up increasingly early. Yesterday he woke at 4:30 a.m. for the day. The only way Josh and I were aware of his being awake was that he was getting frustrated at the T.V. for not turning on. Then, as new babies do, Genevra likes to play from about 11 to 1. Needless to say, I am bushed. Tired. Exhausted. Zombified. You get the picture.

BUT on the other hand, I can honestly say I have not been happier. Genevra has brightened our home in countless ways. She is very smiley and loves to coo and interact with Josh and I. We are thrilled Joshua wants to play with her...as long as it does not involve him dragging her out of her swing or force feeding her animal crackers. Genevra (or as Joshua calls her "Ivy" for Ivory) is my perfect baby. At nearly 13 lbs. (at only 8 weeks old) she is butterball round and nurses like the apocalypse is nearing.

When Josh started the architecture program at KU, he was warned by almost everyone he talked to that he would be living at school. We both assumed they were exagerating. They weren't. From roughly 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Josh is at school in classes and doing his personal homework. He comes hom from 5:30 to 8ish and does dinner/scripture study/bedtime routine with us and then goes back to school until the wee hours of the morning doing group projects. When I get a minute to myself (literally, A minute), I find myself missing this guy something awful. He is such a hard worker and is truly my hero. Both of us are working hard to keep a clear perspective and believe this refiners fire will be worth it.

Our evenings and weekends hold some good times though. A couple of weeks ago, one of my best buds, Pam, came to visit with her fiance over their fall break. We hunted for the perfect pumpkin at Schakes, toured Mass St, went on dates, stopped by multiple church history sites, and had a pretty good time. I loved to have her here to share in my new load.

We are a blessed little clan. I feel like my C-section is healing well, and there are few pictures that seem to lift my spirits quite like seeing the amazing fall colors Lawrence has to offer. In Southern Utah we had to drive into the mountains to find trees-- and then most of the trees were pine/juniper. But here, I only have to look out the window to see reds and oranges.

Pictures are of Josh and Joshua at the tri-ward trunk-or-treat. Joshua went as a monster who refused to wear the super cute head wrap thing, while Genevra was a fuzzy, pink bunny. Josh was a cowboy and I was...sleepy:)

We Invite You

This is our favorite time to watch television! We invite you to tune in on your T.V., the lds.org, or the radio to listen to these inspired messages.

Kirkman Clan: Genevra Ivory

Kirkman Clan: Genevra Ivory: On August 29th around 11:00 p.m., we were so very blessed to welcome our little girl, Genevra Ivory, into the world. She was 8 pounds, 1...

Genevra Ivory

On August 29th around 11:00 p.m., we were so very blessed to welcome our little girl, Genevra Ivory, into the world. She was 8 pounds, 13 ounces and 19 1/2 inches long. The journey to get her here was not quite what we had planned or expected, but what birth is?

Joshua was born C-section due to his being classified as "macrosomic" (or too large to be allowed to deliver vaginally) at 41 weeks. When I look back at his birth, I realize that even though I was angry about not being given a chance to labor, I think the possibility of shoulder dystocia due to his size (10 lbs) was far too great and the doctors helped me make an informed decision.

But I was fiercely determined to have a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) for our next baby. I worked very hard and gained much less with this pregnancy and read every bit of literature I could on how to have a successful VBAC. I prayed for it in every prayer. Josh prayed that I would get my wish. Then at 38 weeks we had the ultrasound that would determine our fate. Baby girl came in at 9 lbs. I was devastated, as my hopes for a VBAC waned, but my midwife, Sarah Darby said that we would wait it out and see what would happen before 41 weeks came around. We went to the zoo in Topeka, on shopping excursions, to Clinton Lake, and did just about anything to keep our minds off of the "what ifs".

Then, at 5:30 a.m. on the 29th, my water broke. I doubt that anyone has ever been so excited to have their water break. I almost cried tears of joy. Serious. We had a wonderful woman from our ward come over and watch Joshua and Sarah (my youngest sister) and went to the hospital. The ride to the hospital was almost comical. I was chattering away, thrilled to my toes that at any moment I would begin to have the contractions everyone talked about (but I had never felt), while Josh was scared to death that I was dying-- due to all of the blood I was loosing. Looking back, the funniest thing was when Josh wheeled me into the labor area and started stuttering something incoherent about "labor" and "water" and I assured the nurses that I was fine and just needed to be checked in.

For five of the longest minutes, the nurses tried to get a steady heartbeat from the baby, but had no success. Before I had a chance to register that something was wrong, two of the doctors came in and said that we would get me into the O.R. to do a C-section as soon as possible. I burst into tears...totally embarrassed to be crying in front of three nurses and two doctors. Dr. Stone said she would try one more time to see if they could get a steady beat. And we did.

I spent the next 15 hours laboring. When I was checked only two days before, I was at a 3 and very thin. Somehow, my body defied physics and when we checked in at the hospital, I was not dilated at all. Zilch. Needless to say, it was a very long 15 hours with me alternating between using pitocin and having strong contractions that distressed my baby, to not being on pitocin and hardly experiencing any contractions. I could narrate the ups and downs of the labor progression, but that would get tiresome...as it was for me. There came a point around 10:00 that evening where little Genevra was coming down the birth canal, ready to make her grand entrance. But with each contraction, her heart rate would drop and then flat line for an instant. And with each progressive contraction, it took just a little longer for her heart rate to return.

Throughout the pregnancy, I had been given various priesthood blessings from my husband, assuring me that my will was also my Heavenly Father's will. I assumed that this meant that my pursuing a VBAC was right and that it was MEANT to happen for us. When Dr. Stone came into the room and told me that my baby's well being depended on us having a repeat C-section, both Josh and went through a series of mixed emotions. We had both had our hopes set on a VBAC and the possibilities of a faster postpartum recovery, as well as the opportunity to have a larger family that a VBAC could offer. I wanted to prove to myself that I was just as capable at giving birth as the women who deliver vaginally. It was at that moment that I came to realize that more than anything else, and most important was my baby's health-- and that was what the Lord wanted for me too. His will was that my baby was healthy.

Genevra could not have been healthier or more beautiful. After the C-section, the doctor explained that it was a miracle she was healthy. My placenta had stopped working properly and had begun to shrivel...literally. Most babies who have this happen are under five pounds and experience difficulties upon birth, which was happily not the case with Genevra. But, this was the reason behind Genevra not tolerating the stress of labor. We were also informed that my tailbone is exceptionally odd shaped, curving in. Thus the reason behind my lack of progress during labor. The result being that my chances of delivering vaginally and a baby making it past my tailbone are very slim.

The fact of the matter is that we have a bundle of joy sent straight from heaven. The timing of her birth could not have been more perfect. My family was driving back from Tennessee where they picked up my brother from his mission, so on the way home they were able to stop by the hospital and admire their newest grandchild. My mom stayed for four days after they left and saved me from going insane. She catered to Joshua's tantrums at being de-throned, cooked us amazing meals, did our laundry, and helped me cope with the steep drop in my hormones. Yeah, my mom is amazing and I can't say enough how grateful I am for her being there when I needed her most.

Our ward is also something to brag about. Joshua has been more than temperamental of late, throwing fits if I hold little sister or even look at him with my brows slightly furrowed, and upon my mom leaving, I had no idea how I would survive. But several angels from our ward volunteered to watch Joshua during the time Josh was in classes over the course of a few days. On top of this, meals were brought into our home. The service these women gave has made my life so much more easy to swallow with the reality of having two children to take care of. I will be posting pictures as they happen.

For now, life is good. What can I say more?