Happy Half Birthday

to Ginny Bug!

I can hardly believe this beautiful girl is already six months old (as of Monday!).  There are so many things I love about her growing self.

(As a side note, I just love this age. The newborn stage is a tender time, but I love me a baby that is rolling and moving and smiling. Every day feels like a milestone, and I love it.)

First off, if you can't tell from the fuzzy, poor-quality picture above, Ginny is a by-and-large very happy girl. She has the most beautiful smile. She lights up with a little attention from just about anyone. But probably attention from Dad is the happiest.

Gosh and golly, she loves to watch her dad. Most preferable is for Mom to hold her so she can follow his every move around the room, eager for each glance or smile he gives her.

Next to Dad, Raymond is the next light in her life. A week or so ago the two of them discovered each other. They sat across from each other laughing, making faces, and all-together amused with the other's company. I about burst with the happiness of it.

Miss Virginia is also very happy when she is outside soaking up some sun, and when she is eating. Wowsa, food is fun. She laps up with eagerness just about anything that comes at her on a spoon. And she has the rolls and dimples to prove it.

Seriously this girl is a little (er, not so little) butterball. Hello, I hope her soft squishiness will stay forever. I can't kiss and squeeze her cheeks, dimpled elbows, and chubby legs enough. I am constantly astounded that we are moving up to yet another size.

As far as latest (or current) milestones, she rolls every which way, scoots to reach toys (already!), almost sits on her own, eats (rice cereal, bananas, sweet potatoes, green beans, peas, applesauce, and little puffs), and occasionally sleeps for six hours at a stretch during the night (but is in her bed for at least twelve hours a night with a couple feedings in there). And I'm guessing she's pretty close to cutting a tooth or two (judging from the amount of drool, gumming, and fussiness that sometimes surfaces.)

Oh, and she's blonde. My dark-haired baby lost just about every last brunette lock she as born with (see) and is slowly growing a whole new head of of soft very-blonde fluff. I'm still trying to get used to it!

Happy half birthday, Baby Girl. We sure love you.

A lesser known fact

about me is that I hate (that's a strong word) using lotion.

Really, I can't stand the sliminess of if. Or how I can't open a door after lathering up without leaving a grease mark on the handle. Or how I can't open anything, for that matter, because I can't get a good enough grip to twist that lid.

Silly, huh?

Just the other day, however, I noticed another woman's hands and thought, they are so soft. And supple. And not cracked. Wow. that's novel. I won't lie, I was a wee bit jealous.

The downside to not liking lotion is having constantly dry hands. Particularly when you live in Utah, perhaps the driest place on this planet. My hands (at this very moment) are so dry and rough I think I am permanently damaging my uniquely-mine finger prints. Really and truly my fingers snag on just about everything. My hair. Raymond's Sunday tie. Ginny's soft baby cheeks. Then they crack and bleed.

It's embarrassing, actually.  I need to get over this, don't you think? I need start consistently using lotion.

Because not just my hands are suffering here. I am one dry, flaky mess all over. (Was that too graphic?)

I've mastered the art of washing my hands (which I do approximately fifty billion times a day... and which is probably contributing greatly to my rough hand, dry skin problem), so I need to at least dabble in the art of using lotion.

Any recommendations? Something I can get at the grocery store but that's not a bottle of grease?

Where to start...

We have been living in Blanding for one week now.

Which means that somehow we managed to pack and clean our apartment in the midst of all the graduation festivities. I'm still not sure how that happened (or how we passed our cleaning check). But we did. And we're here.

It already feels like Cedar City was a long-ago dream. It's so strange how that happens.

At the same time, I can't quite get it into my head that I don't actually live there anymore (and am not just on vacation at "Nama and Nampa's house." I keep thinking about my friends and past ward-members in Cedar and having to remind myself that chances are I won't see them again. I'll never get to see that new baby or find out if so-and-so got into Med school. Weird. It's hard to let go sometimes.

But slowly and steadily we are settling into a new rhythm. Jeremy is working four tens Monday through Thursday (which makes those days long) with a perpetual three day weekend on every horizon (which makes the weekends gloriously long as well). I love that when he's home from work, there's no studying to do (just playing with kiddos, bath and bed times, hanging out).

Debbie (my mother-in-law) has already babysat for us twice. Twice! Getting a babysitter was the bane of my existence in Cedar, so I can hardly believe my good fortune to be have one living with us (who's willing, no less!)

We are loving (with all our hearts) having an enormous backyard to frolic in--with "doggies" who bark at the fences on all sides (Raymond's one true desire in life is to go see the doggies every day). And more than that, there are chickens ("bock bocks") across the street, horses and donkeys a few doors down, and pigs around the corner. Really and truly, life doesn't get better than this when you are two.

Ginny, however, is reaping the most benefits of us all. The girl has finally been put in a room of her own... and miracle of miracles, she sleeps! Still not perfect by any means, but most days she has at least one long(er) nap. And most nights she has at least one stretch (longer than two hours is a stretch for her). Progress, my friends, progress. Hooray!

Other glorious perks to living at the Christiansen abode is (as mentioned before) my mother-in-law's love of all things culinary. She is more than willing to be the head chef of the house, and truly I am happy to be her helper! And she's in healthy-eating mode, which makes me oh so happy. But willing to buy Jeremy just about any treat he requests, which makes him oh so happy. There is all sorts of wining going on around here when it comes to food. (Can I just say she made some out-of-this-world Gumbo for dinner today. Wow.  I don't have words for the rhubarb cake with nutmeg sauce that followed.)

Speaking of the healthy side of life, there is an olyptical (sp?!) machine in the basement (where we live), that I am taking full advantage of. Along with the wide open spaces and new place to go when we want to get out for a walk. Glorious exercise is making me happy.

Did I mention there is a toy room? Yep.

So you see, we are alive and well.

I'm not quite sure how blogging will fit into life this summer. Hopefully more so as the summer progresses, but I guess I can't make any promises. But have no fear, we are happy and healthy and well.

The BIG six

Well hi there. I tell you, this packing business is serious. And the cleaning, well, it has begun (and somehow will end by Saturday morning, don't ask me how).  Really and truly it all isn't so bad. It's the two active kiddos that want to be played with and held incessantly that makes it all so difficult. Good thing Jeremy's parents just drove into town. Debbie is on Ginny-holding duty all day tomorrow. No complaining allowed.

Well, that was a lengthy tangent because this post is NOT about packing or cleaning or moving. It's about the fact that today is Cinco de Mayo, also known as the day I came home from my mission SIX years ago.

You read that right. SIX!

I think I'm as shocked as you are. Except that at the same time, that mission feels like it happened a lifetime ago. Part of me really can't believe it's only six years ago. While the other part marvels that it was the equivalent of four missions ago (that's a year and half times four, in case you were confused). How did that happen?

If I had a scanner I would add some of my favorite mission pictures to this post (I can even still see the box I packed them in). But alas. Nothing is happier than blue skies and banana and mango trees in the background. Plus really and truly I have never been (and will hopefully never be again) so tan in my life as I was for the year and half I lived in Honduras. You should see it.

I had full intentions of writing a nostalgic post about that glorious time in my life. And the many many things I have learned in the past six years since then. But shoot, I tell you what, I am plum too tired to think that hard. All I can manage at the moment is this endless rambling. My appologies.

So I'll end with a happy Cinco de Mayo to you. And a happy six year anniversary to me.

A final farwell

This is it, friends, the last week of our lives in Cedar City. Finals. Graduation. PACKING. A whole lot of cleaning. Moving.  That's what my week looks like. (Along with the usual. Blocks. Books. And the newly acquired Sofie the Giraffe.)

Anyhow, it all feels pretty surreal.  As in, are we really and truly packing up shop around here? Are we officially saying goodbye to all the cedar trees, the lone Main Street, Lin's Market, and the Shakespeare Festival? Not to mention all the lovely friends we have made. And Sadie and Drew-doo (cousins).

Looks like it.

My only question is: where did I get all this stuff? And along the same lines, how do I possibly have enough stuff to fill multiple bags and boxes to take to DI? We have been blessed, I tell you.

Well, Cedar City, I will miss you. Even all your blustery winds and long winters.  We've had a good ole time the last three years. I'm glad that forever and always we'll stop in Cedar on our way to California and tell Raymond and Virginia, "this is where you were born!" along with all the associated memories.

But it's onward and upward, I supposed (speaking literally, of course). First onward--this summer we are moving in with Jeremy's parents in Blanding (basement living, here we come!) to enjoy all the amenities of living with the "grandparents." Can't argue with Debbie's famous cooking or a full-sized backyard! And then upward--we will move to SLC sometime in August. Still looking for an apartment and a new couch.

In the meantime, I keep packing. And contemplating the cleaning. And counting the minutes until Jeremy's LAST final is over (45 more minutes to go).

Wish us luck.