Just so you know

I am alive.

Spring is coming to Cedar City in the form of daffodils and sunshine.

I had the most marvelous weekend in California.

I am baby hungry after holding Maggie Lynn and Chase David for hours.

Today is Thursday. That means it's the last day of my work week.

The 8th part of speech is interjections. Weird.

There is something delectible about pretzel sticks and chocolate frosting.

I failed miserably at celebrating St. Patrick's day. Sigh.

I am no longer wearing a jacket to and from work in the afternoon.

And today I'm wearing capris. Doesn't get much better.

Today

I want to deep clean my house so I can relax all day tomorrow.

I want to enjoy the thick layers of snow falling outside my front window.

I want to sew up a few projects I have waiting for me.

I want to spend a whole quiet hour in the scriptures.

I want to watch Blake pitch for the BYU baseball game on BYU TV.

I want to eat fruits and vegtables and something warm and homemade.

I want to shower and get dressed and do my hair nice and curly even with no place to go.

I want to smile and be content all day long.

The curse of being an English teacher...

is that I am terrible at editing my work. The truth is I usually reread everything I print, turn in, or post at least twice. At least. But then I always (ALWAYS) find errors after the fact. And they drive me nuts. I put "to" instead of "too," or I left out an article, or I forgot to make a proper noun proper, or I accidentally put two periods instead of one. How do these things always happen? I try to be a good editor, but somehow the task evades me.

And then, here's the worst part, once it's posted and I've found an error, I don't always go back and fix it. I just let it bug me. I won't reread the post because I know it's there. In the third paragraph. Half way down. Glaring for all to see.

Sigh.

So I want to appologize to all you good literary folk for whom I have lost credibility over the course of this blog because of the many unedited errors that never got fixed. I'm sorry I didn't catch them before posting. And I'm even more sorry I never went back to change them.

I hope you'll forgive me. Even though I'm an English teacher and should know better.

Babies, Birthdays, and Frozen Bananas

First up: Sweet baby Maggie Lynn was born last night. 9 lbs, 7 oz, 20.5 inches long. Red hair and the cutest baby cheeks I ever saw; she couldn't be more precious. Congratulations to Sara! I love having a new niece.
Secondly: Today is Tasha Rae's Birthday... One year older and wiser too, happy birthday, to YOU!
Thirdly: just so you know, one of my all-time favorite treats is a frozen banana. Do take it out of its skin before bagging and freezing and eating. Love 'em.

The Feds.

They came. Those Feds. With their smiling faces and books of rules. A string of them--Federal, State, and District evaluators--parading into my little parenting and adult ed classroom today to make life scary. With their rules and regulations.

But I did not flinch. Or talk too fast. Or forget to smile.

I conducted class as usual.

And hopefully when my mid afternoon break is over and I go back for my second daily shift, they will be gone. And they will have found that while we are not perfect, we try hard. And that we really do care about our little flock of moms and kids who come to Even Start to learn. And that they really do care about being better moms and better kids. And that we deserve more money to keep our program next year.

My fingers are crossed.

The homemade creamcicle

This

plus this

equals heaven in a bowl.

I could honestly eat a whole family size pudding box by myself if I didn't have some serious self control. Sigh. I wish I could hear that ice cream maker going now...

Hip Hip Hooray for a RED holiday!

As is Torgerson Tradition, I LOVE Valentine's Day. Let's be honest, first of all, the world wears red and eats good candies and cookies and dinners. What's not to like? Having a husband this year did make it extra fun... but I think it more meant I just had someone to rope into my festivities. I loved having it on Saturday because try as I might, I could not get my cards or crafts or cookies done before the day of. I did, however, manage to get lots of fun things done on the actual day.

First, I made pink heart sugar cookies. I love to make them (but only do a few scattered times a year, because, honestly, they are so much work. And I eat too many of them.)

The next very exciting thing that happened was Mom's Package (capital letters deserved) arrived. Jeremy was NOT expecting the little box of love from my mom. But my, was he excited. The whole pound of Sees magically disappeared within 24 hours. Disclaimer: I only ate 4. Second Disclaimer: Jeremy really didn't like these somewhat posed pictures--but he really was giddy he was so excited--and graciously let me post them anyway). Also note the dang cute (if I do say so myself) heart paper garland I made and hung in the background. My mom also gave me the cutest handmade heart magnant and heart handled scissors, not to mention her cute--as always--valentine. We were both feeling the love.

Lastly, I made some new placemats for the big V-day dinner. I had been wanting to for a long time, and finally did. I think they turned out pretty cute. You may have noticed in this picture (more than the placemat) the bowl of pink something. Yes, I sure did dye the rice HOT pink. Along with our pink rice we had milanesa (a fried Argentine meat--Jeremy's favorite mission food), red jello with strawberries, stuffed tomatoes, and raspberry sherbet with ginger ale to drink. It was a fun festive feast!

I hope your Valentine's Day was as wonderful and red as ours. All my love to you, blown with a kiss--

Bellies and Boy Names

Last weekend we went to Vegas for Sara's shower. It was SO MUCH fun to spend the weekend with them and to partake in all the Baby Maggie excitment. While there Sara and I took pregnant pictures. Sara is due March 3rd... and I'm a whole three months later (and taking forever to really show). I LOVE being pregnant with my sisters. Hooray for cute pregnant bellies!

On a different note: from the time Jeremy and I were engaged and planned on starting a family right away, we talked about names. Once we knew I was pregnant, we had a girl name almost immediately. Of boy names... we had a list of options, but never even got close to picking one exclusively. So when it was obvious we were having a boy, the conversation started anew. I'll admit, it's been a constant debate. There are a few criteria (some of which are just mine, and some of which we both feel strongly about): 1. It needs to be a name with history. Preferably history of people we know and love. 2. It needs to be classic (not a new, experiemental name). 3. It needs to not be a name that a million babies are given right now (thus there won't be three of them in kindergarden together having to use middle initials etc.).

With all that said, I still go back and forth and have a new favorite every single day. Yep. I just can't decide. Almost every name on the list has a pro and con to it that won't let me quite give in yet. I know, I know, I still have 3 1/2 months to go... so there's no rush... but I want to have a name. So, please tell me what you, the masses, have to say. Listed in no particular order, here they are:

Mark Morrell
Charles (Charlie)
Raymond John
Morrell Alan
Peter
David John
Stuart

note: I LOVE middle names and plan on calling my kids by first and middle names... but know I will also use all sorts of abreviations as well. Hence, Raymond John would easily be just Ray, we've joked that Morrell could go by Mo or Mac (his initials) on occastion, and Peter could be Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater. All full and abreviated versions are (possibly) game. For those listed without middle names... we just haven't come up with one yet.

So what do you think?

ps. Stuart isn't really on the list because Jeremy HATES it... but I love it. Does anyone else agree??

Mother Eve

It is an interesting thing living in this wide world of mass communication. I have a question about something and I google it or look it up in a book or call my mom or a sister or ask Jeremy. I've got all sorts of resources right at my fingertips for any old question I come up with. How do you make a good beef stew in a crockpot? Betty Crocker knows. What exactly is autism and when does it start manifesting itself in kids (a question we asked ourselves at work this week when talking about one of the kids in our Even Start program)? Google it. Is this or that "normal" in a pregnancy? Ask Tasha or wait to ask the doctor next week when I'm there. The info is endless. What would we do without the internet, dictionaries, doctors, friends, family, books? I just don't know.

Usually when I'm feeling most grateful for an already-at-my-fingertips answer that I needed, I think of what it must have been like to have been Adam or Eve. Goodness. What did they do? How did the know how to build a home? A fire? A bucket? A plough? What an incredible wonderfilling and incredible life it must have been to be the very first. Everything was new. I am going to assume that they got a decent amount of instruction and (hopefully) even advice for some of the basics of survival, but my guess is the Lord left a lot up to them to figure out. And even if He told them a lot, there was just so much to know, that inevitably there were a lot of gaps they had to fill in on their own.

Think about it for a minute.

It's crazy.

I've been thinking about Eve and her first pregnancy a lot lately. She must have been so totally bewildered with what on earth was happening to her. Did she know or understand that there was a little soon-to-be baby inside her? Did she know what a baby even was? (Honestly, she didn't start out as a baby, so how would she?) When her body started doing strange things, did she have any idea why she felt so sick and was so tired? When the kicking started and her belly bulged did she instictively know it was the whole reason she had eaten the forbidden fruit? Did she know it was fulfilling the commandment to multiply and replenish the earth with that slowly growing belly?

I think it must have been one startling revelation after another to her. But I think she knew. Just as Mary, the mother of Jesus, took her experiences and "pondered them in her heart," I have confidence that Eve pondered, and she knew. She understood at a deep and sacred level what it meant to be a woman and a mother. And because of her unique spiritual gifts and insights she must have known, even when there was no other way of knowing, that she was fulfilling the measure of her creation.

I have so much respect for her. What courage to deliver that first child. With no forsight, no clear knowledge of just what labor would entail, no doctor or midwife (just trustworthy and loving Adam), no books no world wide web to explain every ache and pain, no hospital, no clean and sanitary space, she entered pregnancy and motherhood without, I don't think, looking back. After that first born child, how many followed, I wonder? How many times did she midwife for her daughters and granddaughters? For how many did she counsel and advise, encourage and coach as they too became mothers? What insights and truths did she pass down?

While I am extremely grateful for my doctor and books and internet and family, I wonder what it would have been like to have learned from Eve--she who began the chain of the family tree to which we all belong.

Being "In a Motherly Way"

I am well aware that many of you readers have been (or are) pregnant and that this experience isn't entirely new to me. But sometimes, it really does feel like it is. Being pregnant has got to be one of the most bizarre, thrilling, incredible, and unreal experiences I have ever had. Now, for five months running. It is just so strange that this is a little somebody inside of me. Another person. And I can feel him in there moving around--kicking and punching--from the inside out.

It is so strange to me to try and imagine what this little man-child will come out and be like. What will his personality be? What will he look like? What will his little cry be like? His voice? His eyes? Will his chin be dimpled like mine? Will his eyes be blue like Jeremy's? Will he have tufts of dark brown hair or tawny red? Will he be a soccer player or a piano player or both? Will he be quiet and reserved or the life of the party? I just don't know. And there he is, hanging out in the meantime--in my belly. Crazy.

Despite the not-so-great parts of pregnancy (nausea, aching, bad sleep, and too many bathroom trips in a 24-hour period), I really love it. I love feeling him move around. I love it when he curls up into a tight ball and I can cup my hand around his little body inside of mine. I love feeling him roll over. It's like a tidle wave in my insides. I love poking and proding him just enough to get moving--playing little premature games of hide and seek.

I love knowing he is mine, he is part of me. That one day soon he'll enter this wide wide world and I will get to be his guide and mentor and protector as he navigates his way through it. I love this grand adventure of motherhood that begins in the slow and steady progression of pregnancy.