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.

Wedding Weekend

After a two hour delay, mile long walk down the Sky Harbor Airport tarmac, and rickety flight in a stuffy 20 person airplane with no air conditioning, I finally arrived in Utah Friday night. Why? Because one of my best friends, Hayden, got married! I realized that I don't really have any pictures with her husband in them, but let me just tell you- their future offspring will have won the genetic lottery. They are so happy and go together so well. I am thrilled for them!

Here are some pictures from the big day.

 

 This was the funniest part of the day. These tourists insisted on taking multiple pictures with Hayden. They might have thought she was a celebrity? I mean, she is tall, skinny and blonde... I like this particular shot because it has the most peace signs. 

 Hayden looked absolutely amazing. And sticking that Barbie doll into the middle of her bouquet was such a creative touch! Just kidding. Really crappy joke.

 I hate this picture because my belly literally eclipses three fourths of Hayden's body. This baby is negative four months old and he's already trying to take center stage. 

 Janae and I doing awkward preggy poses. Get this- Janae (who is also 23 weeks pregnant) ran a HALF MARATHON that morning. She literally got ready for the wedding in a public bathroom at the Gateway. There is no way her baby won't be the epitome of cool and I am insistent that our children be friends.

 The photographer wanted us to do kissy faces. Actually, I think she requested "sexy faces" and that's what I came up with.

 Me with my arm around my ghost husband. Yes, at the time I thought this was a funny idea. I was the ninth wheel tagging along with 4 couples all day. I definitely wish Brock had been there, but it was a really fun group. Additional detail: right after this picture was taken I noticed one of the groomsmen rifling around in my purse, which was on the ground just outside this shot. Apparently he thought it belonged to someone else. It was really fun asking him what exactly he was looking for in my purse.

 Lindsey and I creating a "heart" over my belly with our hands. It would have been funnier if I'd been wearing some sort of sheer cropped shirt and a really serious facial expression. However, we were on temple grounds. 

Hayden and her beautiful assortment of bridesmaids. I really wish I hadn't tucked in my shirt that night. I think the tucked-in look visually added an entire trimester to my pregnancy.

Bullying: An Epidemic Since 1994 (at least)

Today at work, I overheard a few of my co-workers discussing “bullying” and how rampant it is in today’s school systems. Instead of joining in the conversation, I took the passive aggressive approach: I kept quiet and eavesdropped, then wrote about it on my blog instead.

I find it kind of funny that “bullying” is seen as such an epidemic these days. I mean, I don’t currently attend Elementary School,so maybe I’m just naively unaware of this generation’s children and their malicious ways. But I just don't see why this issue is just now getting attention. Hasn’t the concept of “bullying” existed for centuries?

The first time I remember feeling “victimized” as a child was probably in about 3^rd grade. I had gotten these fantastic new shoes and couldn’t wait to wear them to school. They were from the Bass Outlet and I’d wanted them for ages. They looked sort of like hiking boots only they were bright blue and made entirely of rubber. I think they were supposed to be worn as rain boots, but I had other plans. Those plans involved games of Red Rover (was that just a Utah thing?) tetherball, and of course, “Hot Lava Monster Tag”, my awesome blue shoes aiding me to victory in all of them. I dreamed about wearing them all night before the day of their debut.

I strutted around all that next morning, an extra bounce in my step. Nobody had mentioned my shoes, but I didn’t need them to. I knew I looked cool. Then at morning recess it happened.

“Nice BLUE shoes”, a girl in my class said, looking down at my new Bass Outlet beauties with her eyebrows raised. Then she laughed. A mean laugh.

I may not have known the capital of Alaska or how to form a cursive “Z” at that point, but I knew sarcasm when I heard it. And that “nice shoes” was dripping with it. 

I didn’t really know what to say; I’ve never been a good “trash talker”. I probably just awkwardly mumbled something and shuffled off to the 4 square court. I do remember looking down at my shoes and suddenly not feeling so confident. They were VERY blue…

Later on at lunch recess my now not-as-cool shoes were mocked again during a game of “Red Rover”. Instead of summoning me by my name, the other team chanted “Red rover, red rover send BLUE SHOES right over!” Then their entire team burst into giggles.

Ah, so clever! That whole group has probably broken into the stand-up comedy biz by now.

The rest of the day was ruined. I remember literally wishing I would break my arm or get sick so I could go home. I was desperate to ditch the blue shoes, or at least get them out of the public eye.

My mom was really puzzled as to why I never wanted to wear the shoes again after that day. I mean, my parents don’t usually buy us things for no reason, so this sudden lack of use must have been kind of a kick in the head. I’m pretty sure she still made me mix them in occasionally. She tended to do that. If us kids changed our minds about something we’d previously begged for, she’d make us wear it anyway as punishment for being so finicky. That’s how I spent my entire 5^th grade year wearing clogs.

There are a few other instances in which I remember being made fun of as a child.

There was the time I was ridiculed by a group of “JNCO” jeans wearing sixth grade boys for wearing my DARE shirt with a vest. I wish I could say otherwise, but I am pretty certain it was not DARE day.

Or when I was paired up with a particularly “revolting” boy for the annual dance festival and everyone called me Carolyn followed by his last name all year. (He ended up punching me in the nose at some point, sending us both to the principal’s office. I remember walking home afterwards in shame, with the jaded feeling that I finally knew what “rock bottom” felt like.)

But hey, I can’t completely play the victim here!  I specifically remember asking a classmate once if he/she was a boy or a girl.  The funny part? She’d obviously been asked it before. Her response was a defeated sigh and “Once again… I’m a girl.”

I also recall bragging to my friends about teasing a certain boy so much about his messy hair that he finally cut it. Looking back, it was probably just cut in preparation for him to be ordained a Deacon or something.

My point? We’ve all been bullied. And we’ve all been the bully. Deep down, I think we can all admit it. And guess what? Most of us are probably doing just fine. 

Note: In order to avoid seeming like a heartless bully advocate, I would like to make it clear that I do not condone teasing (at least, the mean kind) in any way. :) 

A Taste of Home

Something wonderful happened on the way home from work today. 

I noticed two things. 1- A “Grand Opening” sign in front of the once empty "Winco Foods" building. 2- Cars in the parking lot. Aside from anything having to do with our baby, I haven’t been so excited in months. 

I love Winco. 

It is by far my favorite grocery store, no contest. Everything ALWAYS seems to be on sale at Winco. I’ve never seen mango salsa (the good Chachies brand) sold for more than $1.79. That is a STEAL, my friends. And the aisles? So neatly marked and easy to navigate. Oh and any item that remains on the pallet it was brought in on must be a killer bargain, right? Don't even get me started on the fabulous bulk foods selection! I didn’t know that self serve hummus mix even existed. And they do have an entire sugar-free section. My old body-conscious self once tried out some sugar-free red vines, but be warned- digesting them was NOT a good experience. Let’s just say I had one of my first ultra embarrassing moments in front of my husband (then boyfriend) because of what they did to my system.

I think I mostly like Winco because it reminds me of home. Which is funny, because honestly, it had only existed there for a year when we moved to Arizona. I guess I just formed some sort of unexplainable bond. Plus, I really enjoy bagging my own groceries. 

The Glendale Winco did not disappoint today. In fact, it was delightfully similar to the Orem branch. (Does the word “branch” work here? Or does that only apply to banks and churches? Okay, the Orem “location”.) Once inside, I could have been tricked into thinking I WAS in Orem! The layout was exactly the same and the people were shockingly similar. You know how they have the “People of Walmart” websites? They really need to start a “People of Winco” edition. I’ve never seen so many stretched out tattoos/FUBU track pants in my life. The interior did smell somewhat like burnt maraconi (you know, when you accidentally drop a dry noodle under the burner) and stale cigarette smoke, but I blame that on the inhabitants, not the upstanding store itself. 

Note: I am realizing this is quickly becoming a store review. You’d think this is part of some Secret Shopper homework. Oh well, I'll run with it- here is one more helpful tidbit. Something I wouldn’t recommend buying? Personal grooming products. For some reason the toothpaste and soap seem to be marked way, WAY up. I’m sorry, but a bottle of Dove body wash for $9? I don’t need it THAT badly… I guess I’ll just sort of rinse tonight...

I just don’t know why everyone up in Orem was so upset when they lost their Nordstrom. They've had Winco all along! I mean, no, Winco doesn’t carry Michael Kors or Frye, but I’ll tell you what award winning brand they they do have- Hy Top! (Winco’s generic brand. Kind of like Western Family at Maceys. Or Kroger at Smith’s. Great Value or Equate at Walmart. Yes I have an extensive knowledge of grocery stores and their featured store brands. I could go on but don’t worry, I won’t. Have you ever baked a cake from the "Deluxe Moist" Hy Top mix? Not bad, I'm telling you. Especially for 97 cents.

Glendale, Arizona, you have finally impressed me!  I purposefully didn't buy everything we needed today. I'm sure Brock will want a shot to peruse Winco's sleek aisles. He missed this exciting outing, as he is in Scottsdale with some work friends, eating some sort of creation that was featured on Man Vs. Food. It's a burger between two grilled cheese sandwiches or something gross like that. He literally fasted all day in preparation for this. I guarantee I could make something 10 times better with ingredients purchased at... you guessed it, Winco. 

Daddy's Big Guy and Some Great Conversation

Today the little guy officially received his first baby gift. It was given to me by my coworker Tracy. Tracy has a Grinch tattoo on her calf and is one of the nicest people I know.

It is a striped onesie (sp? patience please- I've never typed out these baby terms before) with "Daddy's Big Guy" plastered across the tiny chest. Then there is some sort of football graphic with a smiley face. Well, it might not be a football- it might just be a tan oval with a smiley face. I'm not sure. Tracy proudly told me that she'd gotten it at Wal Mart for $1. Score! 

I've always been a bit envious of men for one reason. (Well aside from their lightning fast metabolisms and the fact that it is socially acceptable for them to wear basketball shorts in public.) No matter the situation, men always have a go-to conversation topic: sports. Almost any guy can strike up a conversation with practically any other guy about the Broncos (or insert team here), Jimmer (at least in Utah), or March Madness brackets. For those men not interested in sports, the "Call of Duty" and "World of Warcraft" populations are disturbingly high. I'm sure the discussion possibilities regarding those gaming gems are endless. 

On the other hand, I've always felt that women lacked a solid go-to conversation topic. Good conversation is not just dumped in our laps. It takes a lot more work for us to bond! Questions need to be asked! Hair/shoes needs to be complimented! Quirky/semi gross habits sometimes need to be revealed. That is until now. I've discovered the feminine equivalent: pregnancy. I can talk to anyone about pregnancy! Women who have had babies are more than willing to share their (comical, horrific, embarrassing) experiences. And much more willing to at least feign interest in mine! Women who haven't been pregnant are patient enough with my endless ramblings, mostly because most of them know they'll be there sooner or later too. 

Note: I will admit, a close second to the "pregnancy" as a go-to conversation topic among women is "The Bachelor." I have had some riveting and thought provoking discussions about this show with ladies of all backgrounds and intellects. I'm embarrassed how much I've discussed Ben's awful hair, Courtney's awful soul and Linzi's awful Snow White cape. (Bachelor viewers, you know what fashion disaster I'm talking about.)

I feel like I have joined some sort of exclusive club. Most of me feels honored to be included in such a grand sisterhood. The other tiny part of me misses my stretch mark-free body. 

I'll try to draft up some blog posts that are NOT about being pregnant soon. As much as I think about it, it's like watching a pot boil; the more I talk about it, the further away August seems. 

Finally! What's Been On My Mind For Months...

Yes, this is an ultrasound picture. 

And, yes, this baby is inside my belly 

right now. 

And, hence the crafty blue border, this baby
is a boy. 

I am normally not awake past 9pm on most nights these days (weekends included), but tonight I can hardly lie still (let alone sleep) I am so excited. My head is just too full of thoughts:

What will he look like?
What will he act like?
Will he have a speech impediment? If so, will it be endearing or obnoxious?
Will he have webbed toes?
Will he bat right or left handed?

 I'll spare everyone the token genitalia shot as I am fully aware that little thing is only "cute" and "precious" to Brock and me, but the sweet (somewhat alien like) creature inside of me is most definitely a boy. I'm proud to say I called it right from the beginning. From the day we found out this baby was a brewin', I have repeatedly insisted that it is a little boy. In fairness this might be because I have three younger brothers- from my experience, babies are always boys. Although Brock had to take on the team girl role (you know, just to make things more fun) even he admitted that he had been picturing a boy the whole time. We'd have been thrilled either way, but deep down it's kind of nice knowing I was right. Mommy's intuition?

Here are some fun facts to illustrate my pregnancy thus far:

Looking back, I realize I have been extremely lucky. Not once have I thrown up. Knock on wood. (I just did a few light taps on our ikea coffee table, although I suspect it is made of cheap particle board and not real wood, so if I suddenly become violently ill, we'll know why.) From about week 8 to week 15 or so, I felt that crappy "carsick" feeling on and off all day, but never enough to justify leaving work. (Dang it.) I also felt really, REALLY tired all the time. You know that "Nyquil hangover" feeling you get after a night of aided sleep? That's how I felt all the time.

Pregnancy has had a sort of gastric bypass effect on my stomach. Until recently, I had a hard time eating more than a little bit of food at a time. For those of you who know my eating habits, this is VERY hard to believe. (I tend to value quantity in a meal- my favorite food is literally "any salad bar".) But it's true- for a while, the smallest amounts of food would just fill me up. Has pregnancy magically gotten me skinny? Nope, on the contrary my friend. When all you want to eat is cheese, gummy candy, more cheese and lightly sweetened carbs, those few calorie dense bites add up FAST. For better or worse, now my stomach is back to full capacity and I've been completely taking advantage of the increased caloric intake that is recommended for the second trimester.

I am about 19 weeks along. Almost halfway there! I really started "showing" at about 17 weeks or so, but looked awkward and bloated for a few weeks before that. There is nothing worse than feeling like you need to suck in all the time (especially after hitting up a salad bar) and it is such a relief to be able to let it all hang out. I don't wear maternity pants yet- I've basically been living my life with my pants constantly unbuttoned/unzipped, covered up with this stretchy "belly band" product I found at target. I suspect it won't last too much longer, but so far it has worked like a charm.

I am hot. All the time. And living in Phoenix? It's only gonna get worse. I can't sleep without an oscillating fan mere feet from my head. That's in addition to the ceiling fan and open windows. Before, I could sleep anywhere at any time. Airplanes, church pews, school desk- you name it, I've napped there. But now it is getting really hard to get comfy. I have to sleep with a pillow in between my legs, which I switch out periodically throughout the night because it gets hot. Sort of the same effect as flipping over your pillow. Someone needs to invent a perpetually cold pillow. I'd pay big bucks for that. 

Nothing makes me happier these days than picturing Brock as a dad. Sometimes I just want to cry when I think about it. Other times I actually do cry! I didn't think it was possible to love my husband any more than I do, but when I think of him holding our sweet little boy, I just get this overwhelming feeling of love and gratitude for him. Brock is the most amazing husband ever. He is the most hard working, kind, patient selfless person I know. I know he would do anything for me, and now for our baby as well. I know I can't even comprehend the feelings I'll have once this baby is born, but I am pretty dang excited to find out.

Finally, I am just so grateful that soon I will get to be a mom. And Brock will be a dad. It's kind of humbling to think that we are actually going to be someone's parents. Brock and I are allowed to be responsible for another human life! I feel like I'm still a child myself sometimes. I mean, my ipod is filled with Disney songs (three words: Goofy Movie Soundtrack) and I consider an entire box of Toaster Strudel to be an acceptable dinner. I actually had a miscarriage last fall, which, as hard as it was, was sort of a blessing. I wasn't very far along and we hadn't told many people, so as far as these things go, it was relatively minor. But it completely brought Brock and me closer together and it has honestly made me realize what miracles pregnancy and childbirth are. I will never take my body's ability to do this for granted. I literally pray every day in gratitude for this little baby. I feel so lucky that he is ours to keep! 

Oh, one more thing. Here is an extremely scary picture of our baby's face. Apparently ultrasounds only pick up on the skull layer of the face or something. At least, I hope that is the case, because at this point, our baby looks an awful lot like Voldemort.

I'm sure it's a lot cuter when you can see it's skin. ;)