Two Months

I was way too impatient to wait for a smile.

 Somehow it has been two months since Jack joined the fam.

This is the paragraph that I would LIKE to be contained in this post:

Jack has acclimated nicely to a predictable and structured schedule. He sleeps peacefully for 12 hours straight each night, along with the routine morning and afternoon naps we both enjoy. When this ever-so-smiley guy is awake, we spend hours cuddling and playing. Except, of course, from the time I set aside for exercising and getting myself ready for the day, that is. It would be a shame to hide this size two body under a pair of baggy, bleach stained sweatpants after all! Jack rarely spits up or fusses and his sweet smelling poop is always contained neatly in his diaper. And since he goes down at seven each evening, Brock and I are able to spend lots of quality time together. I never knew having a baby would be so easy! I'm already thinking about baby #2!

Ha. Yeah. Freakin'. Right. Don't I wish...

If there is one thing that I have learned in the past two months, it is this: babies (at least this one) are NEVER predictable. Not at this age, anyway. Almost every notion I had about Jack at one month has changed over the past few weeks.

Some examples:

The old Jack.

He used to love riding in the car. Any drive over five minutes was bound to lull him into a peaceful sleep, which sleep continued conveniently to last throughout any errand we were running. Now? Jack screams bloody murder for the entire duration of the ride. Seriously, the dull thunk of the carseat being clipped into the car is like a starting gun. The second he hears it, the shrieking commences at full force. You'd think there was some sort of creature hiding between the folds of fabric in there, constantly poking Jack with mini scissors. To be fair, the straps do look pretty uncomfortable. I've been known to do the "seatbelt tuck back" myself from time to time (shhhh, don't tell Officer Friendly.) At this point, I've just come to grips with the fact that any drive we take will be accompanied by the shrill sound of infant wailing, as opposed to the shrill sound of Carly Rae Jeppson. It's kind of sixes, I guess.

See? Serious but calm. And tastefully covered.

On a more positive note, Jack used to hate the bath. At first, our son spent a good chunk of his life hygiene deprived. It just made me too sad to see his slippery, wet and obviously very unhappy tiny body squirm in that hard plastic tub half filled with lukewarm water. I chalked it up to genetics. He obviously got his hate for baths from his mom. I personally haven't taken a bath since about 1992. I find the idea of floating around in my own filth water disgusting. However, I LOVE showers. They are always at least twenty minutes long and the water temperature must be skin-meltingly hot. Recently though, we figured out that while he hates the "baby bath", he loves the good old fashioned sink. At first, his baths were a silent and somber occasion. He always looked rather concerned as we soaped his little body down, but never actually cried, which we saw as a victory. Now he's gotten more used to his baths and he actually smiles and laughs in there now. Baths have become a daily occurrence, and it's a good thing too- which leads me to our next paragraph. (Take note of the clever segue.)

Poop. Jack used to do it all the time. Little, cute, neat diaper messes were cleaned up with ease. Apparently Jack's bowels have matured or something, because now he's only pooping once or twice a day. This is nice, as far as diaper/wipe conservation goes. (Who wants to spend $ on this kind of stuff, right?) But when he poop, he POOPS. Some of these blowouts have reached epic proportions. I once cleaned poop off my child's neck. This is not a joke. To date he has pooped directly on me (a few times), Brock, my sister-in-law Brandy, his carseat (that one was probably out of spite), his changing table and multiple blankets. This is some pretty persistent slime, sneakily fighting its way through a thick layer of diaper, a thin layer of onesie and whatever else Jack has on. The silver lining to this cloud is that Jack is almost always in a really good mood after this happens. Hey, I think we can all relate... (Did I just cross the line?)

Disclaimer: Jack never sleeps in our bed unsupervised.

Jack used to sleep for hours, all day and night. I'd find myself getting impatient for him to wake up because I'd be bored and want to play with him. Plus, he is cuter with his eyes open, so I preferred him awake when people were around so they could appreciate his maximum cuteness. Now he seems like he's always awake. Especially at night. This kid is a night owl. Try as we may to get him to sleep at night, he rarely goes down before 10:30. Sometimes it's more like midnight. I think his little biological clock is off by a few hours, because he simply isn't tired before then. Luckily he has started sleeping for long periods of time at night. He'll usually sleep anywhere from 8-10 hours once he is finally down. This has been life changing for me. Since he really isn't on any sort of schedule yet, his naps are very sporadic and unpredictable in length, making it almost impossible for me to doze along with him. Now I at least feel like I'm getting a somewhat decent amount of sleep.

$4 baby toy? Yes please. 

Happy babe, happy mom.

When all is said and done, we feel dang lucky to have this little guy. Although I realize now that baby habits are never set in stone, he hasn't yet thrown us anything we can't manage. He is getting to be more fun every day. He smiles and laughs more and more often and his excessive spit up problem is starting to improve. (Thank you, baby Prevacid.) I think he might have a touch of the A.D.D. like his mom; he is only ever entertained by something for a few minutes before he gets bored and wants something new to do. Luckily we've got a good rotation of "activities" for him. He loves his swing, his changing table (weird, I know, but it seems to be his favorite place in the house), his homemade PVC pipe jungle gym, and his boppy pillow. He loves his playlist full of lullabye renditions of classic rock songs. He responds particularly well to Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" and the Rolling Stones' "You Cant Always Get What You Want". Go figure. He also loves to lie on the floor and be played with. This probably interests him for the longest and it's definitely the most fun. It's just hard to get the floor mopped when you're gazing down at and making ridiculous noises to your sweet baby. 

We love our little man so much. I miss him when I'm away from him for an hour; I'm sure it's much worse for Brock who is at work and school all day. He really is the best!

Also, let's quickly address one more aspect of my "fantasy" paragraph. No, I am nowhere near a size two. Probably never will be. I have been trying to mix in a little gym time now and then, mostly because gym clothes are stretchy (thus easier to fit into). But my bleach stained sweats are always a nice alternative.

A few more pictures:

My main men.

I laugh out loud every time I see this picture. Sometimes I look away and then look back so I can laugh again. He looks like a creepy bobblehead or some sort of mutant from a Goosebumps book.

Acid reflux in action. Quite possibly the luckiest shot of my life.

The Fastest Month of Our Lives...

Not the greatest picture. The little gremlin would not hold still.

I can't believe we've been parents for a month now. These past few weeks have absolutely flown by. Sometimes I can hardly remember what life was like before Jack. The thought of having an uninterrupted night's sleep seems like the most foreign concept in the world. On the other hand, the whole having-a-baby thing still seems so surreal at times. I am still in awe that he is actually ours to keep, not just some glorified babysitting job.

 I think Jack is the greatest baby in the world. Here are some "fun and exciting" facts to help you get to know this little man.





10- The number of pounds Jack currently weighs. Well, this is a rough estimate. Our bathroom scale is off by a few pounds. At least, that is what I like to think. Shhh... let me be in denial on this one.

22- The number of inches Jack is tall. Again, this is a rough estimate. For some reason holding still next to a yard stick wasn't something Jack was crazy about doing.

4- The average number of hours Jack sleeps at a time per night. I am actually pretty happy about this. We'll try and do the whole "scheduling" thing at some point and hopefully get him sleeping through the night, but at this point I'm just gonna let him do his thing. The one day I tried implementing the "baby wise" system was the worst and most stressful day of our lives-both mine and Jack's. We both felt like failures until I realized he was only a few weeks old and cut us some slack.

8- The number of ounces of milk Jack once drank in one sitting. I was curious to see exactly how much he was drinking, so I pumped a bunch of milk and let him have at it. An hour and a full size bottle later, I was shocked to find out that a baby's stomach is roughly the size of a walnut and apparently my son was about to explode. Luckily a few good "BMs" (my favorite "medical" term) later, his little intestines seemed back to normal. I thought babies were supposed to be intuitive eaters, but apparently we've got a little binge eater on our hands. It's okay buddy- we all eat our feelings sometimes.

30- The number of pounds I've lost since delivery. Not as impressive as it sounds. 1/3 of that was pure baby and another good chunk was probably made up of weird fluids. Supposedly nursing does burn calories though and our little guy eats a LOT. So in a way, I am unselfishly giving him my fat. It's a win-win.

15,000- The number of diapers Jack goes through per day. I thought I would mind changing diapers more, but honestly, I'm thrilled when the little guy poops. Ever since the mild bout of constipation a few weeks ago, I'd much rather clean his little bum multiple times daily than deal with a whiny, squirmy, grunty poop filled baby.

1- The number of times he has rolled over. The other night I put him down on his tummy, left the room for about 30 seconds, and returned to find him on his back. I feel like this is quite the accomplishment for a 4 week old and consider his strength a promising attribute that will aid his future athletic career. I just wish I had gotten to see this display of strength in action.

1.5- The average number of times I wash my hair per week. I'm sorry but I'd much rather spend my precious time sleeping, eating or therapeutic cleaning (all luxuries now) than blow drying this unruly mane of mine. The sad part? More often than not, there are at least a few strands soaked in spit-up.

Jack really does seem to be a good baby, from what I can tell. He definitely has his whiny and clingy moments and yes, there have been a handful of sleepless nights, but all in all, he really is quite a mild tempered little guy. That being said, even with an easy baby, motherhood is SO much more work than I expected! It's a full time job with NO breaks! I am never, EVER off the clock. Even when I'm asleep, I dream about Jack. But motherhood is also so much better than I imagined. I'm finally starting to get it down. The thought of leaving the house isn't totally stressful anymore and as I get to know Jack, I am figuring out little tricks that make things easier. It's also nice to have such a great, selfless husband who is willing to help out so much. Brock goes to work/school for 15 hours a day sometimes and still always has the energy to hang out with Jack when he gets home. If anyone is running on less sleep than me these days, it's Brock. But...like all parents have been saying for ages, it really is worth it.

Now We Know Jack

Jack Douglas Sargent has arrived!

On Friday August 24th, 2012, I was somehow able to squeeze an (almost) ten pound baby out of me after only 6 hours of labor. I am quite proud of this accomplishment. He has set the bar pretty high for my future babies. Not that I even want to think about actually being pregnant again these days...

I know that as his parents we are biased, but Brock and I are convinced that Jack is just the greatest thing ever. I don't think I'll ever get tired of staring at him, in awe of his every movement.

Look Brock, he raised his arm!

Aww, look at his little pout...

Hurry get a picture, he's smiling! (I know, I know... just gas)

Obviously we are very easily impressed.

Jack has been the perfect addition to our little family. The thought of us not having him seems so weird, even though a mere week ago this was just the case. He is amazing. Like everyone told me before he was born, I just didn't comprehend the love I'd have for our child until I held him in my arms. Not to mention the love and admiration I have for my sweet husband. Seeing Brock hold, play with and talk to little Jack melts my heart. I am so grateful that he is willing to work so hard at work and school every day because I know he does it for our family. 

And now for the pictures!

 

I have seriously spent hours trying to get a picture of one of his elusive gas induced "smiles". This is the closest I've gotten so far. Also, Jack has spent the first week of his life almost exclusively in a white onesie. (Multiple white onesies, not the same one- I promise.) 

 

 The happy family. Yes, that is a Fig Newton wrapper. Pre-baby Carolyn didn't care much for the geriatric preferred snack food, but Post-baby Carolyn apparently loves them. After all I'd gone through, I don't think anything has ever tasted better to me.

 

  This wasn't a really lucky and well timed picture. Jack threw up and held up this gang sign/hand signal for about ten minutes while asleep one day. I would love to know what sort of dream he was having. 

9lbs 13oz? No wonder I waddled around for the entire summer.

 After Jack was cleaned up. I'm not going to post the pictures that were taken right when he came out. I look like a naked corpse (a happy one though) and Jack's skin looks grey. Ah, the glamors of childbirth! 

 I had very lofty plans for my post-baby diet. This diet was supposed to go into effect as soon as Jack came out. Yet, somehow almost a week later, it still hasn't started. Lo and behold, my choice of dinner that first night at the hospital. It probably had more calories than a normal person should ingest in a week. But hey, all that pushing probably burns a few, right?

 While I'm on the topic of food, this was the last meal I was able to balance on my tummy, a convenience I cherished during my pregnancy. Before the hospital that morning we stopped at McDonalds and I enjoyed a ceremonial "last supper" atop my built-in tray.

 Like all babies, there are moments when Jack looks just like an LDS General Authority. The little baby zit on his forehead was really tempting to me. Brock had to swat my greedy little fingers away from it on more than one occasion. Luckily for him, baby skin seems to have magic properties and it literally cleared up within hours. 

 Brock is the cutest dad I know. Jack loves to lie on his chest. Sometimes he gets confused though and starts searching for a milk outlet. 

Dancing on his new blanket. As a frequent attendee of UVU's Institute dances back in the day, I recognize this move as "the sprinkler".

Baby Eve

I've always been the type of person who often enjoys the anticipation of an event more than the actual event itself.

Some examples? Christmas Day itself pales in comparison to the entire season leading up to it. Growing up, I usually enjoyed the 4th of July more than my birthday, the 5th of July. And when in school, I always loved those exciting, chaotic, field-day filled last few weeks of classes much more than summer break itself, which, let's be honest, was often very anticlimactic and boring.

So I guess it's kind of fitting that Brock and I have been given an extra, one-time holiday made up purely of anticipation. I'm calling it Baby Eve.And it happens to be today.

Apparently I have a really comfortable womb. Our little guy really isn't seeming to want to come out. Luckily for me (the most impatient person in the world) my doctor's office has a policy that they will induce you once you've reached a week past your due date. Tomorrow at 7am, we will go to the hospital and I will be induced. Whether he likes it or not, our baby is coming tomorrow. I'm really hoping he has a good attitude about it. If all goes according to plan, I will be someone's mom by tomorrow night. 

Part of me is kind of sad that I'm probably not going to get to experience that frantic "holy cow, I am in labor" panic/excitement filled moment like a lot of moms get to. At least not this time around. I can't help but imagine how exciting it would be to have my water break-even if it were in public. Or how fun it would be to wake Brock up in the middle of the night because my contractions are so close together. But... I guess knowing exactly when the baby is coming is convenient- and exciting in a different way. I get all day today to think about it and prepare. I've been able to deep clean my house (all 700 square feet of it), catch up on laundry, pack my bag, buy treats to get Brock through the next few days and look forward to a nice relaxing shower tonight. The whole time my stomach has been filled with (the good kind of) butterflies; I cannot stop thinking about tomorrow!

Our baby's birthday will be August 24th. Some celebrities with birthdays August 24th: Rupert Grint (the fair skinned, ginger haired Ron Weasley) Chad Michael Murray (ahh, this would have made 17 year old Carolyn VERY happy) and Dave Chappell (the only stand-up comedian I can actually quote- I listened to one routine on my ipod during a long run once and creepily LOL'ed my way down Provo Canyon). 

Tonight Brock and I plan on celebrating Baby Eve. I'm not entirely sure what this celebration will consist of, since he has class until 9pm, but I plan on making it special somehow. Maybe some good dinner and a movie? Or most likely we'll just sit around speculating in awe about what our baby will look/be like. That's what happens most nights anyway. Well one thing is for certain: just like I've never done so on Christmas Eve, there is no way I will be getting much sleep tonight!

40 Weeks

Before possibly our last date before having to make babysitting arrangements.

Officially 40 weeks pregnant! Full term. I keep telling our baby that this means he is welcome to make an appearance at any time.Unfortunately he seems as happy as a clam in there, content to kick my ribs all night long and make painful jolting movements that I sometimes mistake for contractions. I know it's really common, for first time moms especially, to go past their due dates; I don't know why I am so restless and anxious to get him out. I mean, once he is here, he is here FOREVER! And he'll be a lot harder to take care of then. I should just relax and enjoy the last week of my life in which I am only responsible for one human life. But really, I literally CRAVE holding the little guy. I already feel surprisingly bonded to him and I've never laid eyes on him. I can't even imagine how much I'll love him when he's in my arms. Plus, I am so curious to see what he'll look like! Will he have hair? (I hope so, at least a little.) How big will he be? (I suspect 8 lbs+. The doctor told me his head is currently really low, yet I still feel kicks in my ribs all the time. That means even squished and folded up, he's taking up a LOT of space.) Will he be a good baby? (If karma has any validity in this situation, I might be in trouble. I have been informed that I was the baby from hell. I apparently cried NON STOP for the first 5 months of my life.)

My swollen hands after the death walk.

Yesterday, in an attempt to get things going, I naively ventured out on a nice 4 mile power walk. Um, HUGE mistake. I have not been especially active during this pregnancy and 90 degree heat is a friend to nobody. For the first bit, I was chatting on the phone and didn't recognize my misery until I was already 2 miles out.  Those two (uphill) miles back were killer. I had to get off the phone (talking put me out of breath) and kept having to squat down every 20 yards or so (I sweat out all the water in my body and felt lightheaded). Some of these breath-catching squat-downs were done in the bicycle lane of the street as there was no sidewalk. Oh also, the best part? I was wearing a belly shirt the entire time. I accidentally put on a shirt that I swear fit me last week. Apparently my stomach has grown/changed position drastically since then, because I was baring a solid 6 inches of ghostly white pregnant belly skin the entire time. I'm sure the cars driving past were having a hay day. I did get a few encouraging honks and "whoots". When I finally made it to the church next door to our house, I saw a patch of shade under a tree that looked tempting. Might as well take one last rest before that final 30 yard stretch, right? Another bad call. I huffed and puffed over to the shade patch and promptly lied down in a pile of dog poop.

And as for the baby? He was probably laughing the whole time. By now it's become clear that he had no intentions of budging whatsoever. That little tease.

I have been waiting for almost 10 months to see this screen show up on my "Baby Bump" app... Although it is a little anticlimactic sitting here typing this, contraction-free with water intact, while baby boy kicks away happily.

Umm, also can I just share these gems I found on the Baby Bump app today? First of all, I'm pretty sure I accidentally installed the "Baby Bump Ghetto Edition", because you should see some of the posts that are shared in the message boards. This girl sure had a "qood" question! Yes Krystal77, "yuh" should "due" some squats. Also, why in the world would you post that picture of your stomach for all of the community to see? I mean, you CANNOT be proud of that! I know stretch marks are a sad truth and that is a nicely designed skeleton/butterfly(?) tattoo, but really- we don't need a visual.

37 Weeks and Things I Will Miss About Being Pregnant

I am officially so over this! Throughout my entire pregnancy, people kept warning me that the last month is the hardest. I blew the warnings off, figuring that by the time that final month came, my excitement and adrenaline would create a sort of "high" that I could ride on for those last few weeks.

Wrong Carolyn, so wrong.

However there are some things that I am trying to enjoy during my 9th month. (It is such a joke that pregnancy is actually 10 months. So misleading.)


Things I will miss about being pregnant:

Unlimited Calories:
Okay, so this is not entirely true. I think the recommended increase in daily caloric intake is only about 500/day at this point. I'm pretty sure a Taco Time Big Juan Crisp (which has quickly become a daily staple) is packing more than that. But for me, someone who has had to learn to be somewhat calorie conscious in my old age, these nine months have been a blast. It's so liberating to eat whatever you want and be able to blame it on the baby! I've have developed some horrendous habits, mostly involving cheese and white bread, and it's gonna be quite the shock when I suddenly care about fitting into my normal clothes again and a diet of burritos and sno-cones isn't getting me there.

Free Foot Rubs:
When I say free, I mean foot rubs without the accompanying obligation to pay Brock back. Normally we're big back/shoulder/foot rub massage people. Not an episode of "Breaking Bad" goes by without us trading our services while watching. Pregnancy has been great because more often than not, Brock conveniently "forgets" that I owe him after my rubdown. At least, I hope he's forgetting, or else I've racked up a LOT of debt.

A Break from Fashion:
I currently fit into 3 shirts. 4 if you count the cardigan I sometimes layer on to jazz things up. Although feeling cute is out of the question these days, it's kind of nice not to have to spend time deciding what to wear. Usually only one shirt is clean at any given time anyway. I have purposely avoided spending much on maternity clothes. Why should I waste money on dressing well during a time of life that, let's face it, isn't my best, physically speaking? And even the cutest-of-cute maternity clothes look just like that- maternity clothes. I'd rather be sort of dumpy (yet comfortable) now and save that money for cute things to reward myself once I look relatively decent again.

Attention from Random Strangers:
I know this sounds creepy, like I am some insecure little girl with Daddy issues, but I actually sort of enjoy how friendly people are when you're pregnant. I feel like I am constantly getting smiles and those knowing "ah, 9 months pregnant" looks from strangers, especially women. It's like I'm in this club that a lot of us have been in (or will be in) at one point in life. I must just look like I'm having a boy, because oddly enough when a stranger attempts a gender guess, 9/10 times they get it right. One thing I hate though- random belly touching. If we know each other, great. Access granted. I have no problem with people I even somewhat know touching the goods. But when we have never met before, this is not okay. A strange woman in Hobby Lobby attempted a friendly belly pat yesterday and it shook me up so much I left without buying the craft paint I came for.

There are probably more things that I WON'T miss about being pregnant, but those are for another post.

4th of July/Birthday (These Two Holidays are Always Combined for Me)

 Despite the fact that my husband was 600 miles away, I still managed to have a great 4th of July and an awesome birthday. Get ready, because this post contains a few very unflattering pictures of myself. Pictures that any normal, self respecting human being would stop at nothing to keep off the internet.  Instead, I am shamelessly putting them on.

Enjoy.

 

We went to this festival in Orem called "Colonial Days" featuring grown adults dressed as ye olde colonist townspeople. Some even went the extra mile and spoke using Colonial jargon, which I appreciated. We were by far the oldest group there, but I've never seen a pair of eyes light up like my dad's did when he caught sight of the authentic iron bellows feeding a fire (in 95 degree heat, ugh). Some other favorites were the hand carved coffin tent and the wool carding display.

Once this picture had been taken, I found myself legitimately stuck and squatted there struggling to free myself for minutes before I realized that the release latch was within easy reach. Obviously, my brothers found this hilarious and were of no help. 

 I was doing yoga out on the grass before the fireworks started. I stole the moves from a really low budget prenatal yoga video I've been watching. Basically, a pregnant woman with awesome arms, but an otherwise mediocre body, set up a tripod and filmed herself breathing and stretching on a towel for 30 minutes. Hey, she made at least $5 (plus shipping) off it!

 My brothers Jeff and Joel along side a festively clad whale, washed upon shore to enjoy some fireworks. What a salty, fun surprise! No really, this is the picture I probably shouldn't have posted. I honestly have only gained 25 pounds this pregnancy, which according to the doctor is right on track. I think our little baby is just very... horizontal in there.

 My cute parents. I wasn't thrilled about my mom's choice in shirt color, but since pink is a derivative of red, I guess I won't question her loyalty. She comes directly from Massachusetts after all; patriotism is in her blood.

 I woke up to this email the morning of my birthday. Too bad I've been treating the entire year of 2012 as a birthday, as far as my gym habits go.

My mom and I went and got Japanese food for lunch. It was fantastic. While not in the least bit healthy, the tempura vegetables offered me and the baby some much needed nutrients to make up for the white bread and chocolate I've been living off lately. Seriously, during the 9 months in which nutrition really counts, I've had the hardest time.Vegetables have never tasted worse and Taco Bell has never tasted better.

There is nothing cuter than adult shoes in baby sizes. Brock sent me these for my birthday. A week later, I'm still squealing with delight every time I look at them.

This is another unfortunate shot of me, but it showcases my preferred birthday dessert- Peanut Butter Pie. It isn't your typical birthday cake and ice cream, but it is SO much better. I've also graduated from the mass of melted candles dripping wax all over and opted for the 2 and 6 candles. Numeric candles are a sign you're getting old, I decided.

I made myself this little birthday sign to display in my parents' house. When you have three brothers, a dad and a mom with self admitted third grade boy handwriting, you have to do these things yourself. The best part? A week later this sign is still up. It has provoked a lot of unnecessary "Happy Birthdays" from unknowing visitors, some of which I have graciously accepted without saying a word.

Utah... This Is The Place

Utah... people working together. Utah... what a great place to be!

This is not just any poetic introduction to a blog post. These are the lyrics to a song I learned in 4th grade for the Utah Centennial celebration. I originally thought it was a Northridge Elementary original hit, but when I started belting it out randomly one day, my St. George native husband joined right in. Some of the song's best lyrics? "New technology's here, growing faster each year... This is the place!" It's true...there are a lot of iPad owners up there...

I've had this song in my head for about three months now. Why? Because I am thrilled to announce that Brock, our negative two month old baby, and I will be moving back up to Utah in TWO days!

After a year in Arizona, we decided that it was in our best interest to return to the motherland where Brock will be getting his Masters degree in Accounting from the University of Utah. We found a cute little duplex in a really pretty area in Alpine- halfway between Salt Lake and Orem.

I have missed Utah so much. I can't wait to wake up and look out the window, not knowing what the weather will be like that day. I love rain, and we've had about 3 dusty, ten minute long rainstorms in the past year here. I'm so excited to get to wear fall/winter clothes without sweating. I'm sorry, but it feels weird wearing a cardigan and boots when you're standing 10 feet away from a Saguaro cactus. I want to be able to go outside and enjoy the summer nights. There is something suffocating about 95 degree weather when it's dark outside. Most of all, I can't wait to be close to friends and family again. I won't lie- I get envious every time I see Facebook pictures of our families and friends doing things without us.

I kind of feel bad about the attitude I've developed about Arizona over the past year. I will be honest- I haven't loved it here. BUT... that being said, I will be the first to admit that I don't think I ever really gave Arizona a chance. Last summer we accidentally moved into the worst zip code in the city as far as crime rates go. I think we were the only white people in our entire apartment complex. (I am not racist; I am simply stating a fact.) It was unbelievably hot, ugly, dry and miserable. I got pregnant probably the week we got here, then lost the baby shortly after that. Brock spent those first few months working 70 hour weeks. We knew nobody and were possibly the only young people in our branch; slim pickings as far as a social life went. Basically, we went through some hard things and I think I just associate Arizona with these trials, and therefore have been resistant to adjusting to life here.

Since those first few months, we've moved to a much nicer area, I'm now 8 months pregnant with a healthy baby boy and we have made some good friends. We're even figuring out how to battle the 110 degree heat. (Basically this requires ultra pricey electric bills and never, ever venturing outside.) We learned a lot this year and we're so grateful for the opportunity we had to come down here and get a taste of what grown up life is like.

That being said, we sure are excited to put true adulthood on the back burner for one more year and do the student thing one more time.

California Trip

Last week Brock and I joined the rest of the Sargent crew for a nice trip to sunny, warm beautiful California. Here are some poorly organized photos from the vacation.

The whole Sargent crew. I really hope our baby inherits the Sargent "quick tan" gene. I mistakenly thought I could handle the same amount of sun exposure as these golden goddesses and am now paying the price with aloe vera lotion every 2-3 hours.

I love this picture because it is completely candid. Brock really was that happy out there. He also insisted on keeping his glasses on. I wish you could see the hot pink chums he had secured them with. I also really wish there was a discreetly creepy shark fin in there behind him somewhere. 

The Sargent boys. Actually, more like the Sargent men. 

Brock, me and the baby. I don't know if the little guy loved or hated the cold water, but he kicked around like crazy the entire time we were in there.

Why is waking up at the crack of dawn to exercise even when on vacation a good idea? So you can look like this on the beach, of course. I obviously did not participate in these early morning runs. 

Here is the problem with this picture: I don't look pregnant here. Instead, I just look like I've put on 30 or so pounds. I've got to figure out a good pose to use for the next few months to avoid this. Sea World was great. Although our group probably had the highest average age of all the groups there, we were definitely not lacking in enthusiasm. I never knew a tank full of Nurse Sharks could provide so much joy.

Bailey, Brock and me waiting for the Shamu show to start. Brock seems to be having a hard time being patient. Although discreetly littered with subliminal environmentalist propaganda, the show was awesome. Also, I'm pretty sure this picture wasn't taken with a '90s disposable camera, so I'm not sure why the date and time appeared in the bottom corner.

I think this was a real Great White Shark jaw. Or maybe it was just a life size replica. Either way, it is terrifying. So is my posture. 

I found myself secretly wishing I was an animal trainer the whole day. I guess this is what you do with a Marine Biology degree. They also seemed quite proficient in rhythmic clapping and other simple dance moves. Or maybe those were actually their way of communicating with the animals.

The ladies in front of the Sea Turtle tank. Again, not quite sure why the date and time appeared in the corner. Brock missed out on this picture because he was actively listening to and asking questions to the guide, whom everyone else had learned to tune out. This is why Brock is smarter than me.

Brock's Birthday

Brock has had a birthday.

For the next two months, my husband is officially older than me.

Until July when I also turn 26. Only when that day comes will I see us as the same age again.  I feel like the older we get, the more delight I'll take in this two month period.

Actually, I really like having a husband my same age. It's kind of nice to reminisce about childhood/high school and not have to account for any sort of age discrepancy. We both burned Ja Rule CDs in 10th grade. We both sported Quiksilver/Roxy clothes in Jr. High. (If they were on sale.) And we both enjoyed the seasons when the Utah Jazz were really good. (4th-6th grade?)

I think Brock had a pretty good birthday! We honestly didn't do anything super exciting, but with everything we've had going on lately, a low key day was just what we both needed.

Some pictures:

 I told Brock we could go anywhere in the world (well , in the greater Phoenix/Glendale area) for lunch on his big day. What did he choose? Why, the Costco food court, of course. As you can see, we enjoyed quite the spread of all their finest items. Informative Tip: Do not be tempted by the menu item "Carne Asada Bake". While it looks delicious, it is disappointingly dry and tasteless.

 We decided to go to Cabela's and to look for some sort of manly birthday present. We didn't buy anything, but we did enjoy the taxidermy on display. As is obvious by the gym shorts and UVU shirt, we take birthdays very seriously and dress up accordingly.

 

For dinner that night, we decided to branch out from our 5 regular tried-and-true chain restaurants and venture out to enjoy some of Phoenix's finest BBQ at... "Bobby Q". Honestly, the idea started out as a joke because we thought the name was so funny, but it actually got really good reviews online, so we decided to try it out. 

 And yes, the food was actually really good! We always get nervous when branching out and going to restaurants we aren't familiar with. Last time we tried something new, we ended up paying over $100 for literally 3 bites of weird/gross French cuisine in Park City. Frustrated, unfulfilled and literally starving, I think we ended up at a Cafe Rio 20 minutes later.

Obviously I am a horrible food photographer, but the above pictures are my attempt to showcase Brock's mint Oreo birthday cake. Actually, it was a pan of brownies. In both of our opinions, brownies are way better than cake anyway.  These shots were taken before, during and after the painful but necessary Happy Birthday solo I insisted on singing from behind the camera.

We (well, actually I think it was me) accidentally threw away Brock's birthday check from his parents.This resulted in an exciting midnight rummage through the Sage Stone apartment complex dumpster. After a few fun minutes of sorting through grass clippings, sticky Coke cans and our own Hefty bag of filth, the birthday card with check inside was found! Luckily that old mattress was there or else I don't know how Brock would have gotten out.