Exploding Toilets

So last night the toilet exploded.  I don't know exactly when Husband got home from work, but he got all ready for bed, including that pre-bedtime potty stop.  After he flushed, the connection between the toilet tank and the hose that connects it to the wall...well...it busted.  I remember lying in bed thinking, "What is that sound?"  It was the water spraying Husband and flooding our bathroom.  Poor guy.  He got the water shut off as lickety split as he could, but it had already dumped enough water onto the floor to soak the bath mat and four full-sized towels.

So he dealt with that, mostly, and came to pray with me.  He told me all about the fiasco and finished with, "...so we only have one flush left."  Don't you hate how when you are told you can't go to the bathroom or, in this case, that you can only go one more time, and all of a sudden you REALLY have to go?!  Needless to say, I used the last flush.

I need to apologize to Husband for being such a grouch last night.  I was really sleepy.  The last thing I wanted to deal with was a flooded bathroom, especially when not having any contacts in renders me completely blind. 

So what do you do when your toilet explodes?  Just laugh about it.

Nurses Call All the Shots

Enjoy the cuteness before the melodramatic-I'm-still-trying-to-pretend-I'm-a-teenager drama starts...

[Insert drama here]

So much for learning injections being the most exhilarating day of junior one...more like the most stressful. I enjoyed it, but it also caused my very first nursing school meltdown, I cried way too much, and my head still hurts.

We started out with mixing insulin and giving a subcutaneous injection. That was all fine and dandy. How hard is it to stab a fat pad with a needle? Not very. Then the world came tumbling down. We did intradermals on hotdogs (so not like the real thing). Then we got to stick our buddies. Now, the goal of an intradermal is to get this cute little bleb. Bleb. Bleb. Bleb. It's a fun word. Anyway. I didn't get the bleb. I other words, my one shot (no pun intended) at giving an intradermal before they send me out into the real world to give it to a real patient, and I went a little too deep. I wanted to cry, especially when my buddy made the most beautiful little bleb in my left forearm. (Congrats, Buddy! No hard feelings.) The excitement of stabbing a fat pad with the inch and a half long needle was lost after that.

I made it to my little lactation cubby before I cried. I cried all my makeup off and gave myself a headache. I tried to go eat lunch with the girls but ended up finding a quiet place where I could read about antibiotics and cry a little more. (Sappy, sad story. I know. Get over it or quit reading. It was a big deal to me.)

After lunch we went through the injection competency step by step so that we're ready to go next week. I still felt like quitting nursing school. I felt like a complete failure...all because of a stupid little bleb, or lack thereof. I waited my turn. This time we were doing subQ's on our buddies. Finally it was my turn. Ruth looked at me and said, "Are you okay?"

And I lost it.

I was surprised at how much better it felt to cry in front of everyone--much better than hiding away in my cubbyhole. It was good to know that others knew I was struggling. It's hard to not be perfect when people (including yourself) have always expected perfection from you. It's hard to balance being a mother and a wife and a student.

Husband is struggling, too, with seminary. It can be bad, if we sit down and have a pity party together, but it's also nice to know that even though you have a whole mountain on top of you, at least you have your best friend right there with you. At least you can take turns digging. I love my husband. I love my little boy. I love this crazy adventure we're on together. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

**Note to my buddy:  I still want to read your blog--if you're willing to share, that is.**

Taco Soup, Among Other Things

My mother-in-law sent us a recipe for Taco Soup a few weeks ago. I made it last night and it was DELICIOUS! Unfortunately, it almost got the best of me. I cooked some fresh beans the day before (black and pinto). I chose to make them fresh rather than buy them canned because we have pounds--literally--of beans from WIC that keep piling up. It was about time we used them.

Now for the fun part where I almost burn the house down and all that jazz...

The first thing you do when you're making taco soup, besides the beans, is sauté a medium onion. So, Little Guy is asleep, I put some olive oil in the pan, turn the stove on and chop my onions. I'm on the phone with Husband and thoroughly distracted by the bad connection and trying to get my message across. I throw the onions in the pan. I'm raising my voice with Husband, frustrated that he's not understanding me. I look up and my apartment is full of smoke. I yell, "I'M BURNING DINNER, BYE!" and hang up on Husband. I turn the stove off. Stupid me...WHY DID I TURN IT ON HIGH?! I have a pan of blazing hot oil, crispy, black onions, and a house full of smoke.

I get a text message from Husband that says, "Love you too." He doesn't understand that dinner is burning and thinks we're having our first fight.

I open the door to get the smoke out before the smoke alarm goes off. My throat is burning. I get Little Boy out of that darn place as quick as I can. I try to call Husband to tell him that I am trying to break family rules a.k.a. kill myself, but he does not answer. I don't understand that his phone is not working. I think we're having our first fight, even though it's a huge misunderstanding.

I finally get the smoke out. Husband shows up and sees that I am not mad at him, just scared of dying. I start attempt number two at Taco Soup. This time I do not turn the stove on high and I do not burn the onion. I add my beans, hamburger meat, a can of stewed tomatoes, 1 1/2 cups chicken broth, some frozen corn, and the taco seasoning. Except, go figure, it is not taco seasoning, but is thick'n'zesty spaghetti sauce mix. I am upset. I scoop the mix out of my soup as best I can and go back to the pantry to get my taco seasoning. Except, go figure, there is no taco seasoning, just thick'n'zesty spaghetti sauce mix. I angrily throw the thick'n'zesty spaghetti sauce mix back in the pantry. Husband has to go to the store to get taco seasoning.

In the end, we had yummy taco soup with cheese and chips. Husband is especially a fan and took leftovers for lunch today. I like when he is a fan.

After the dinner fiasco, we went on an adventure to the drive-in movie. It was everybody-gets-a-free-double-feature-night. It was my first time to the drive through. I enjoyed it...poop explosion (minor compared to some, but still in need of a fresh outfit) and all. We saw Pirates 4 and rather enjoyed it. We decided not to stay for Cars 2 because it was a school night, though. Bummer.

Just some fun thoughts:

School was rough this week. It was full speed ahead and you jumped one hurdle just in time to clear the next one, hoping you didn't crash and burn somewhere along the way. I survived, though. I'm pretty sure I passed both tests. I got both projects turned in on time. I studied my tail off. I'm PO Med competent. Next week I get to learn injections. Good thing I have a good buddy who is going to let me poke her. I like my buddy. She makes me laugh and it's fun to have a friend to talk to at school. It's been a while since I've had a school buddy.

Tony forgot that he needed to go straight from seminary to Home Depot today. I felt like a good wife because I realized he didn't have a change of clothes or a dinner or anything so I packed it up and took it to him so that he wouldn't be late to work. He was happy.

It looks like my Christmas wish will come true...moving into a house four times as big as our apartment at a fraction of the cost. You've gotta love couples who go on missions for a year and a half and want you to take care of their house while they're gone.

I'm going to make two-ingredient ice cream tonight without an ice cream machine. I'll let you know how it goes.

I drove all the way to Walmart this afternoon to pick up a prescription and a package of double stuff Oreos and when I got there, I realized I didn't have my wallet. What fun!

My baby needs some love now, so that is all.

Surviving with a Smile

It's been a few days.  It's hard to justify blogging when you all you feel like you have time to do is homework (and even then, you still don't get all your reading done) and the spare time in between is when you get to love your boys and feed them and make sure they have clean clothes to wear and all that... Have you noticed the theme of my blog lately?  I hope it's not boring.

Anyway...I'm back.  I made it through Week 5 of Junior 1.  It was a toughie.

This week isn't going to be any easier...test Monday, competency Tuesday, Exam Wednesday, and quiz Friday. I can do it, one day at a time.

**I think it must be a mom thing, but I've been desensitized to poop.  

If you don't like reading about poop, I recommend that you skip the rest of today's post.**

I love being a mother. Crazy that I can love it, even through the rough times...like Thursday. Hyrum loves his Daddy. He always saves the big huge poops for Momma or Grannie, never Daddy. Lucky guy. Anyways, Thursday was another one of his infamous poop explosions.

It had been a while since he cleared his GI tract and I knew that didn't bode well for me, but I finally decided to bathe him. He smelled like fresh, clean baby. Yum! I fed him dinner and put him in bed. Apparently, though, he wasn't ready for bed and he let me know by happily kicking and squealing and having a good ol' time. So, I laid him out on a blanket by me in the living room. He kicked and squealed away, happy as a clam, so I decided to dish myself some apple pie and ice cream (Happy Birthday, Tony!). It was quite delicious until I heard the poop. I dropped the pie and ice cream and had him off the floor within two seconds, but the poop was already up his back, on his clothes, and clear through to the blanket. I got him stripped down and was trying to clean up the mess, just in time for the second round. At that, I gave up, wiped him clean enough to make it to the bathroom and hosed him off in the tub. Fresh baby...again.

Now, judge me if you will, but I now have a clean baby in a fresh set of jammies and a pile of poopie diaper and wipes all over the changing table. Maybe I should have cleaned the changing table, but instead I chose to eat my apple pie and melted ice cream soup... So as I sat and enjoyed my soup, ignoring the fact that I had a poop explosion waiting for me three feet away, Hyrum did this for the very first time...

I frankly forgave him and loved him more than I ever had and then cleaned the changing table with a smile on my face.

Life would be so boring if all I had to do was homework...poor regular, everyday college students...

Gig 'Em Aggies!

Hyrum is enthralled with his first Aggie football game!

Tony was happy because the Aggies won, Jeri Lin was happy because that meant lots of kisses!

Gig 'Em!

What We Believe: Baptism

Jeri Lin says:

I was baptized when I was eight years old by my father. I remember that the water in the baptismal font was cold, but as soon as I came out of the water I felt warm, inside and out. That warm feeling let me know that what I had just done was right.

Baptism is a reminder of our commitment to Jesus Christ. Some may argue that eight is too young, but I knew then and I know now, that I love Jesus Christ. I want to be like Him. I want to return to live with Him. Baptism was my first step toward those goals.

Tony says:

Because my parents raised me in the Church, I was baptized at the age of eight. One of the great regrets of my life is that I don't have any specific memories of being baptized. I
remember that it happened. I remember that a friend was baptized the same day. But as far as specific feelings, I don't remember.

Since then, I have had the opportunity to witness many other people's baptisms. I always counsel them to get a journal and write their feelings and thoughts so they don't forget. Those memories can be sources of great strength when days of doubt or difficulty come.

Since I don't have personal recollections of my baptism, I have to look to other experiences for strength. At the age of twelve we can enter Temples and be baptized for deceased ancestors. I do remember the day when my dad baptized me for his dad. I knew my grandpa, but he died when I was only seven. There is a feeling of peace that accompanies baptisms in the Temple. That day tied my family closer together.

The Temple is how I make up for not remembering my baptism. In behalf of an ancestor, I can make the promises to take upon me the name of Christ, always remember Him, and keep His commandments. In return, He promises to send His Spirit to always be with us. That promise applies to us in this life and in the life to come.

Rainy Days and Nap Time

I love dreary days...those days when the sun is hidden behind grey clouds and (if you get quite lucky) some raindrops grace you with their presence. It's almost as if the whole world slows down and takes a single breath. We don't have enough of those days here in Arizona.

Well, imagine my elation when I heard the thunder yesterday afternoon. Little Boy and I raced outside and found the most glorious dreary day.

[insert tangent: Everyone always commented how lucky I was to have an April baby. I missed the being huge and pregnant when it's really really hot outside. Oh hooray! Lucky me! What no one ever mentions is how miserable it is to be stuck in a tiny apartment AFTER the baby comes and all you want to do is take the baby for a nice little walk to the park or even 100 steps outside of the apartment to check the mail {tiny exaggeration}, but you can't because it is too hot outside. There's really no perfect situation in my book...ANYWAY...]

Thunder. Dreary grey clouds. Right. So we loaded up the stroller and took off in an attempt to enjoy the grey skies and raindrops. And we did, for about two minutes. We were quite upset when the sun came out and the rain dried up and we started to sweat and it was no longer enjoyable. *sigh*

In addition to this unfortunate event, we have a predicament. Nap time. I love nap time. Nap time is when I get my homework done. However, nap time is also the only time I can nap. What's college student/mother to do? Nap? Or homework? I'm not sure. Yesterday I chose nap. I think I'm going to regret it when I sit down and realize how much I need to have done for Monday. First exam of the semester. Hundreds of pages of textbook reading. Papers. Concept maps. Wellness plans. Teaching plans. Granted that's not all due Monday but I'm a firm believer in anti-procrastination.

So you ask, "Well Miss Anti-procrastination, if you have so much to do why are you blogging about it?"

Because I want to.

Don't Read This. It Might Hurt Your Feelings.

We like our blog. We like to share our daily adventures, no matter how boring they may be. We like to share what we believe, not so that you will believe it too, but so that you can understand. We like to share our accomplishments, our joys, our embarrassing moments. If anything, this blog is for us. It is a way of recording our life together.

We like to know that people read our blog, that, for one reason or another, they find what we have to say interesting and enjoyable. We like the fact that family and friends that we don't often see, can come to our blog and see what we've been up to. They can see pictures of a happy little family. They can read stories about that little family.

Now to the part about hurting feelings...

I recently added a little feature to our blog. It was meant to be a way for people to share what they thought, without the hassle of leaving a full blown comment. At the bottom of each post, there are little boxes you can check: funny, inspiring, LOVE! Did you catch the change? Originally, you could check boring. Well, imagine my dismay when people started putting cute little check marks next to boring... Really? You think I'm BORING?! Well, guess what?

I DON'T CARE.

And that, my dear friends, is why you can no longer put your dainty little check marks next to boring. You can choose to LOVE! it if you like, but no more boring. If you think it's boring, DON'T READ MY BLOG. If you think prayer is boring, DON'T READ MY BLOG. If you think the mundane accomplishments of a student nurse who is working her butt off are boring, DON'T READ MY BLOG. If you don't care if my little guy is rolling over and eating rice cereal, DON'T READ MY BLOG. Or, if you are feeling punkish, leave me a comment. I won't approve it.

I hate to be mean and nasty, but you hurt my feelings, and no one has a right to do that.

Oh! My Poor Child!

I had one of those "Oh! My poor child!" moments yesterday. Little Boy went to sleep in a t-shirt the night before. All morning I planned on changing him into his clothes for the new day but I kept putting it off with the thought, "I'll wait until he poops." I've been traumatized by the I-just-dressed-him-and-he-pooped-all-over-it syndrome. So I waited...and then he went down for a nap...and then I left for class...and then I figured Tony would change him...

Text from me to Husband: Sorry I forgot to change Little Boy.
Text from Husband to me: That's ok. I did too.

Oh! My poor child!

Luckily we had an extra change of clothes packed away in the diaper bag and Grannie is more than happy to change him into a fresh set of clothes.

Slightly unrelated, my husband is spectacular. On Monday, Hyrum was down for a nap and I had been going 100 miles an hour all morning. I had done laundry, dishes, cut Tony's hair, cleaned the bathroom, vacuumed, etc. etc. etc. I was pooped (as in tired, completely unrelated to the poop explosions that have been happening all too often). I decided I needed a quick nap. Tony agreed to wake me up in a half hour, or when Hyrum woke up (he was gonna be a hungry boy). Unfortunately, Hyrum woke up 15 minutes later. I was not aware, however, because my fabulous husband entertained the hungry guy until my half hour of blissful napping was up.

Completely unrelated, but still exciting, I am vital signs competent! I can take your temperature, pulse, respirations, blood pressure, and oxygen saturation. I was a little worried. Blood pressure is a lot harder than it looks, but I did just fine. I passed on the first try. I'm proud of myself. Nursing school is tough. You just go, go, go...hope you understood that because we're moving on...NOW. The fun part is, we haven't even picked up full speed yet. I'm looking forward to my Disneyland trip following graduation. I'm planning
it for myself. It'll be a nice little pat on the back. Good job. You accomplished something amazing.

That's all for today. Smile!

Cool in the Pool

It's September. Too bad that doesn't mean It's time to celebrate Fall, you know...the season. Too bad it's still ridiculously hot outside. Too bad I still can't take Hyrum for walks to the park. Too bad our electricity bill is still high. Too bad that the unkempt men on the lightrail stink. Too bad I stink, no matter how much deodorant I wear.

I long for the days when you can wear your old high school hoodies. I can't wait for the nights when I can open the window, climb under the covers, and snuggle next to Husband. I'm kinda excited for Thanksgiving and Christmas and all the fun, food, and family that go along with. (I'm not excited for Halloween because I think it is stupid, but that's just my opinion.)

But in the mean time, we're trying to make the most out of the warm summer heat that is Arizona, because we all know that come February we'll be dreaming about the heat and the lake trips and the sunscreen. It's inevitable.

On the Move

Gone are the boring days of immobility.  Here are the days when I need vacuum every day since Little Guy won't stay in his designated area.  Hyrum has learned to roll from his back to his tummy.  This discovery, coupled with his ability to roll from tummy to back (something he's been able to do for a little while) means he can move!

 I would put him here...

 

...and pretty soon he would be...

...HERE...

...or HERE!

The best part is, he's so proud of himself.  He just chats to himself and giggles as he rolls rolls rolls.  If I haven't said it before, I love being a mother.

Now back to homework...                             

Where's the Fire?

A few weeks ago (when our air conditioning went kapoot!)  I was spending the day at my parents house, trying to stay cool.  My mother, also known as Grannie, was at work for the day.  She's a 9-1-1 operator for the City of Mesa.  Cool.  I know.  Anyways, she was at work, but then all of a sudden she was at the house and there was a big huge RED firetruck at the house too.  She was having "a day in the life of a fireman."  They had brought her home to change after running at the high school.  

Hyrum was sleeping, so he didn't get to meet his very first big huge RED firetruck, but Brooke and Hayden enjoyed  the excitement.

Doesn't my mom have a really cool job?

What we believe: Prayer

Tony says: 

Prayer is difficult. Not that saying a prayer is hard. Anyone can say the words of a prayer. But to truly pray is a challenge. To know what to pray for is a challenge. To pray with faith is a challenge. To have confidence in getting answers is a challenge. I have found that my concerns day-to-day don't tend to change much. And that makes avoiding repetition a challenge.

Despite the challenges, or perhaps because of them, prayer is very important to me. I have found that some kinds of prayers get answered more readily than others. Prayers for others. Prayers for truth. Prayers to know how to serve better. Prayers for our children.

The number one prayer that God is willing to answer for us is when we ask what to pray for. There are blessings we could receive if only we would ask. And if God lets us know by His Spirit what we should pray for, then we will automatically have confidence and faith in that prayer being answered.

I go to God most readily when I have great need. But I have found that I must reach out to others in need or my prayer is useless. How can I ask for help from God if I'm unwilling to help others? I have never had much money, but not every need others have is financial. So time or companionship or physical labor are all ways I try to serve others. When I serve others, I help God answer their prayers. Then my prayers become more meaningful and are answered more clearly and quickly.

Jer Lin says:

Do you ever feel like no one's listening?  Or if they are, that they just don't understand?

I think everyone feels this way at some point in their life.  Unfortunately, we forget that there is always someone listening and that He always understands.  We are children of God.  He loves us and is concerned for us.

I think it is wonderful that the Savior understands all.  He experienced it all.  He understood what it felt like to be alone when He was on the cross and said, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46).  Perhaps He felt like no one was listening, even as He cried out in prayer, but God was listening.  He could have caused Christ's suffering to stop, but He had a greater plan.  Sometimes when it seems like God isn't answering our prayers, it is because He has a greater plan for us.

I have come to know my Heavenly Father through prayer. When I pray to Him, I feel as though he is listening to me and not just superficially, but eagerly! He, in turn, responds to me through the feelings of my heart. I feel peace and love and understanding when I pray to my Father in Heaven.

Momma's Gonna be a Nurse Someday!

Hooray for nursing school!  This is me and Hyrum on my "first" day of nursing school.  I say "first" because it was the first day I got to put on scrubs and wear my nifty little stethoscope around my neck.  I'm not gonna lie, I think the wine/white scrubs are classy.  I'm not gonna lie, I'm terrified of sitting in something and ruining my white pants.  Classy can turn disastrous real quick, let me tell ya.  

 

I'm loving nursing school.  Wednesdays are not so great, but overall I love being in class.  I love lab.  We've practiced therapeutic communication, vital signs, changing an occupied bed, "peri care", how to transfer patients,  catheter care, and much more.  I love the things I'm learning.  Pharmacology is going to be a tough class, but I think it'll be engaging and applicable. 

Blood pressure is a lot harder than it looks.  I have to pass out of it Tuesday.  I need to find some people to terrorize so that I can master it.  Dad?  Bryton?  Tony's already been forced to be my patient and Hyrum's a fun little guy too!  No blood pressure for him, but holy cow is his heart rate fast!  Almost too fast to count.

I'm glad I'm going back to school, even though a cute little guy put it on hold for a little while.  I'm glad that I've found nursing to be enjoyable so far.  I think I made the right decision in a career path.  I always wondered if I was enough of a people person to be a nurse, but I've found that if I tell myself I can do it, I can do it.  And for my high school counselor and everyone else who has told me I should be a doctor, not a nurse... BLEH!  I love nursing.  I wouldn't want to be a doctor for anything.  I'ma gonna be a nurse someday!

A Dozen Holy Places

While in Utah, Tony and I were able to go to the Provo Temple.  Hooray for Grandma Brown and Aunt Whitney for watching Hyrum for the morning.  

It was a sun-shiny morning and there were missionaries everywhere!  Provo may not be everyone's favorite temple because it's an older style and not as "pretty" as some, but Provo is where my parents met, so they were on my mind while we were there.

Provo was the twelfth temple that Tony and I have been to together.  A dozen holy places.  A dozen houses of God.  We love temples.  Brigham Young said this about temples...

"We enjoy the privilege of entering into a temple, built to the name of God, and receiving the ordinances of his house...we also enjoy the privilege of administering for our fathers and mothers, our grandfathers and grandmothers, for those who have slept without the Gospel...

To accomplish this work there will have to be not only one temple but thousands of them, and thousands and tens of thousands of men and women will go into those temples and officiate for people who have lived as far back as the Lord shall reveal"  (Discourses of Brigham Young).

We love to visit the temple and we are so excited for the Gilbert Temple and the Phoenix Temple that will be completed very soon.  Did you know that if you aren't a member, you can go inside these temples before they are dedicated?  If you'd like to go, ask us about it!  We'd love to go with you, maybe even go out for ice cream too!

Bumbo Seat

Have you heard of the wonderful invention they call the Bumbo Seat? They're these neat little seats that support babies who can't sit up on their own. I love mine. My wonderful visiting teacher gave me hers now that her kids are done with it. Thanks, Jo!   P.S.  Don't judge.  Hyrum's Bumbo is purple, but you get what you get and you don't throw a fit.  We're teaching him early.

Anyways, Hyrum gets tired of his swing and tummy time or whatever else I try to make him do when I need two hands, so the Bumbo Seat is perfect. He just sits on the counter next to me while I do my hair or on the kitchen table while Husband and I eat breakfast.  Check it out!

HOWEVER!  I have found a flaw...  When said cute child named Hyrum  decides to fill his pants, he cannot help but fill his Bumbo Seat.  We learned the hard way two mornings in a row.  I know he's just testing me, to make sure that I was paying attention to the demonstration on "peri care" this week in lab.  Unfortunately, this morning I was silly enough to get him all dressed up and cute for the day and then put him in his Bumbo Seat.  Bad idea.  He went from cute to poop.  I was happy.  Luckily, the Bumbo Seat is easy to clean...maybe they foresaw such instances.

In other baby news, our little boy ain't so little anymore.  He weighs 16 pounds 10 ounces and is 2 foot 3".   He's so big he's wearing Daddy's belt buckle.  Looks like a true Texan if you ask me.  Either that or a Luna boy...who else wears Wranglers to church?

The other big news is the upgrade to rice cereal for breakfast and dinner.  He makes his fair share of funny faces when he's getting started, but by the end he can't get enough of it.  He gets mad if you don't shovel it in fast enough.  Oh, and as a side note, the poop explosion in the Bumbo seat this morning was post bath.  He decided to make breakfast an especially messy occasion and needed a good scrub down. 

 

I love being a mother.  I can't believe I smile through some of this stuff, but I truly enjoy my little boy.  I wouldn't trade him for anything in the whole world.  Just to help you understand why, here's one more picture.  I was sitting on the floor reading for class the other day and I looked over to see this...

"Oh no, Momma!  What do I do?!"