Still recovering

Well, we made it.  I'd even venture to say it was a success.

We (and by "we" I mostly mean "my mother") fed and entertained around 70 people three meals a day for three full days.  When some people left, others came in their place, so the numbers were pretty steady.
We played, swam, ate, visited, slept, and - fittingly for Pioneer Day weekend, I thought - watched the movie Luther.

If I ever couldn't find Slice, I looked for the little kids:
and there he was.  Also, we took Liam swimming for the first time ever.  This is what he did most of the time:

We could hardly hold onto him.  Or get him out of the water.

Gotta love my boys.



Two summers ago we had a Woodruff family reunion in Roosevelt, in our homes.
(Most of my extended family lives on the Wasatch Front or elsewhere.)

It was so great we decided to try it again, but with the Eddingtons this time.

And - in true Eddington fashion - we are a day away from the event, with little idea how many people are actually going to come.  Good times!

It could be anywhere from 70-100, and vary exceedingly over the 4 days.  We have an itinerary and meals list, food bought, homes and yards and trailers divvied up between families, even a quilt in the making.  But, no matter what happens, we are masters at throwing things together last minute.

(That's something to be proud of, right?)

I'll let you know how it goes!


Turns out, my stomach's not made of steel

Last week at my doctor's appointment the nurse gave me some samples of prenatals.
"Some women get nauseated from certain vitamins, so try these out and let us know which ones you like best.  Then we'll get you a prescription."
"Oh, I don't think I'll have a problem with any of them," I told her. "But I'll let you know, thanks."

If I can make a trip to Japan in my first trimester without ever getting sick, I don't think a vitamin is going to give me trouble.

So.  I took the first pack and all was well.   Yesterday we grabbed a quick snack between church meetings (third week in a row at a special event in 11th ward!), and I took the first pill of the new pack before heading to our ward for Primary.  About 10 minutes later I bolted to the bathroom.

A new first!  Is this how morning sickness works?
I didn't feel sick before, I didn't really feel sick after - it was a quick ordeal and I was hungry by the time we got home.  That's nowhere near the 3-9 month nightmare I've been conjuring up in my head.  It's the awful, awful pains of the stomach flu that I don't think I could handle for any length of time.

Knock on wood.


Out of the Woods

It's been well over seven months since Slice worked at the golf course, and our plans have changed at least 89 times since then. (Oilfield - school - Jackson Hewitt - Arizona - Asia - South Carolina - oilfield again - pump repair - Utah Valley - to name a few things seriously considered.)  Alas, none of the plans worked out.

We've seen miracles large and small, set up house, watched our son grow from a baby to a rollicking toddler, healed a broken wrist, and irritated each other a bunch.

(Have any of you spent months on end with your spouse in a limited space? And survived?  Because I think we've both come to realize that there are very good reasons one of us works outside the home, and possibly, that things were meant to be that way .... to preserve relationships.)

Our plans have changed again.  Finally, a full-time job has been offered to Slice, and it looks promising.  He starts training Monday.  So we'll probably be staying here for a while.

And, despite the stir-craziness, we are really going to miss Slice when he's gone.  Liam and I have been spoiled all this time having him around to play and cook meals and change diapers (and let me take naps).

It's an adjustment I'm willing to make.


Blogging Pregnant

Oh, hey.  I hope you're sleeping right now.
(I wish I was!  I'll pay for this later!)

I'm not, obviously, and the thoughts currently plaguing my brain are curiously related to blogging.  Why?  Who knows?  But if I get it all written and published, will I be able to sleep?  Worth a try.

And so I present: Why I'm a Terrible Pregnant Blogger.  In Parts!

Part I: No pictures.  As a general rule, I don't like to take pictures of myself.  Even less so during pregnancy.  I actually cringed when I looked at the 37-weeks-pregnant picture I posted a year ago (just before I linked to it) because, why did I ever post that?
Bloggers are supposed to be narcissistic - that's what makes them bloggers - and perhaps I am, but I'm not vain.  Never have been.

Part II: The long journey to "Publish."  I write (many!) posts in my head, but when I sit down to write them, they just don't seem that important.  No one wants to read about my relationship with Holocaust memoirs, for example.  It's not relevant to anything.

Part III: Once again, I don't feel like I can write what I'm really thinking.  If I wrote a "How are we going to make a house payment this month?" post every time I was thinking about it, that's ALL my blog would be.  Seriously.  Forget about the plans for the nursery .... I can't even buy a maternity shirt right now. Or bacon.
Now, I have no problem talking about money, but it makes a lot of people uncomfortable.  So let's just say we're poor, and the perpetual job search-application-interview-letdown process has been more than we (I) could handle at times. I have to keep telling myself there has GOT to be a reason for this.

Part IV: Perma-furious.  This is very much related to Part III.
I've pretty much been mad at the world since Slice got fired for no (good) reason, then replaced with someone less experienced - who is "loyal" and, by the way, someone else's SON - and then everyone pretended like nothing happened and our entire livelihood/plans/goals weren't just tossed by the wayside.
I'm trying not to be bitter.  I really am.
But it would be a whole lot easier if we could get out of this place, where the situation is brought up again and again by (well-meaning) people who want to know what's happened, why Slice isn't at the golf course anymore, etc. etc.

Part V: Holding my tongue. Also related to Part IV, see the progression here?
I suffer from an unfortunate side effect of pregnancy, where the part of my brain that tells me "this is unacceptable behavior" (dear Shawna!) simply stops working. I imagine it a little bit like being drunk.  I know of perhaps a few people I have offended, but there are possibly many more that I am blissfully unaware of.
I'm trying to hold my tongue, which turns into second-guessing everything I want to write, which turns into writer's block, which turns into probably every reason I have listed here rolled into one.

This my brain on pregnancy.



I started five new students last week.  This brings my current total to eleven.

There aren't enough piano teachers in the Basin, did you know?  And there are hardly any voice teachers.  My mother and I get phone calls almost weekly from mothers looking to start their children.  Crazy.
(I've even heard from a few sources that they made more teaching from their homes than by working full-time jobs.)

Someday I would love to have a music studio in my house, complete with mirrors and a grand piano ... but for now, my mother's setup is working quite nicely.

My piano skills are rusty though, since I went from practicing an hour a day (high school) to an hour a month (college).  The years of choir and school took their toll on my piano abilities; since I started teaching I've been trying to coax them back, little by little.

At first Liam would cry and tug on me the second I sat down.  Now he usually plays in the room for as long as I want to practice.  This is called conditioning.

Anyway.  I am starting to really enjoy teaching, and I think I'm getting better at it.  Voice lessons are a bajillion times harder than piano because there is no set curriculum, no books that we can go through, skill by skill.  The mastery of vocal technique is so complicated that I don't profess to have mastered it - or even come close, really.

But I share what I can, because few people around here are willing and/or able - and hey, the money's a bonus.