Sunday, May 8, 2011
Will- One Month
I made this video to give to my mom and Jeff's mom for Mother's Day and I have to say I'm kind of kick ass at cheesy video making!
The first song that plays was written and performed by Jeff especially for his little boy!
The second song is First Day Of My Life by Bright Eyes.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
My newest blog fodder!
William Tyson Jensen (or just Will, but NOT 'Willy,' so help you god) was born on March 25th 2011.
He weighed in at 7 lbs and 14 oz and was 20 in long.
He is perfect in absolutely every way and we love him more than anything!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Mission: DEPRESSING
I'm pretty sure I broke some sort of rule that, apparently, everyone knows but me. Because of my last post, approximately 900 people have told me that they're never having kids. So, I'm thinking that maybe the reason why no one tells the truth about pregnancy is because then no one would ever have children. Ever again. Ever. So, OOPS! My bad! You can blame the upcoming population decline entirely on me. I'm standing by my previous statements. Pregnancy sucks a fat one.
But anyway, on to a topic that DOESN'T include boobs, vaginas, pee or an overactive fetus.
My little brother, Tyson left in October to go to the Missionary Training Center (or the MTC, for you Mormons!) to prepare to.. well, go on a mission! It's basically a place for these cute little 19 year old boys to learn how to teach and preach. And be grown-ups. And sometimes learn a language (Tyson learned to speak Spanish fluently in like, 3 weeks, no joke). After training there for about 2 months, he was sent off to Arkansas (which is really the only reason my mother hasn't died from worry yet- she was convinced he'd be going to some foreign country where they don't use utensils and everyone's genitals are exposed.. although, for all I know, that could be the very definition of Arkansas). It just so happens that he arrived the very same week that this happened. And now my mother is scrambling to get the phone number of the "Arkansas Scientists" to make sure that there's nothing toxic in the air or the water that could kill her little son, and I'm like, first of all I'm not sure there's a 1-800-Arkansas-Scientists number, and second, if there really was something like that going on, they wouldn't need a worried Utah mother to call them up and get their asses moving. Plus, it's probably no big deal, just the apocalypse or something, sheesh.
But I guess he lives in total ghetto-ville. Ever hear of Rogers, Arkansas? Yeah, me either. According to my brother, he's smack in the middle of total poverty, filth, and crime. He lives in the backyard 'shed' of a member with 3 other missionaries and, like any other dumb teenager, adores it. Granted, he's having a really hard time being away from everyone, especially over the holidays, but he's passing the time by keeping himself super busy doing things like tracting and naming the chickens at the farm next door. Pilgore and Gargamoth are the only ones he's talked to us about so far. I'll keep you updated on any other chicken names. Because they're clearly insane.
ANYWAY, I miss my brother like absolute crazy. He still has another 22 months, and we only get snail mail and an email once a week. The phone is 100% off limits, unless it's Christmas or Mother's Day and even then, he doesn't get hours to talk. But if you know me at all, you know how close I am with my brother. He's my only sibling and my best friend. I've spent more than my share of time crying on the couch because I MISS him, or I accidentally called to tell him something hilarious and got his depressing voice mailbox. But I try to write him as much as I can, and Jeff and I have already sent him box upon box of Mt. Dew in the mail, which I hope he appreciates. Shiz ain't cheap.
But there's an even more depressing element. He will miss the birth of my son, his first nephew. The little guy who will make him an Uncle. Our baby will be a year and a half old when Tyson meets him. BUT, we plan to make sure we talk a lot about Ty and show the baby plenty of pictures so that the second he comes home, they can be best buds.
Aaaaand, I've hit my limit. If I talk about this any more, I will cry! Thanks, progesterone.
I miss my baby brother :(
But anyway, on to a topic that DOESN'T include boobs, vaginas, pee or an overactive fetus.
My little brother, Tyson left in October to go to the Missionary Training Center (or the MTC, for you Mormons!) to prepare to.. well, go on a mission! It's basically a place for these cute little 19 year old boys to learn how to teach and preach. And be grown-ups. And sometimes learn a language (Tyson learned to speak Spanish fluently in like, 3 weeks, no joke). After training there for about 2 months, he was sent off to Arkansas (which is really the only reason my mother hasn't died from worry yet- she was convinced he'd be going to some foreign country where they don't use utensils and everyone's genitals are exposed.. although, for all I know, that could be the very definition of Arkansas). It just so happens that he arrived the very same week that this happened. And now my mother is scrambling to get the phone number of the "Arkansas Scientists" to make sure that there's nothing toxic in the air or the water that could kill her little son, and I'm like, first of all I'm not sure there's a 1-800-Arkansas-Scientists number, and second, if there really was something like that going on, they wouldn't need a worried Utah mother to call them up and get their asses moving. Plus, it's probably no big deal, just the apocalypse or something, sheesh.
But I guess he lives in total ghetto-ville. Ever hear of Rogers, Arkansas? Yeah, me either. According to my brother, he's smack in the middle of total poverty, filth, and crime. He lives in the backyard 'shed' of a member with 3 other missionaries and, like any other dumb teenager, adores it. Granted, he's having a really hard time being away from everyone, especially over the holidays, but he's passing the time by keeping himself super busy doing things like tracting and naming the chickens at the farm next door. Pilgore and Gargamoth are the only ones he's talked to us about so far. I'll keep you updated on any other chicken names. Because they're clearly insane.
ANYWAY, I miss my brother like absolute crazy. He still has another 22 months, and we only get snail mail and an email once a week. The phone is 100% off limits, unless it's Christmas or Mother's Day and even then, he doesn't get hours to talk. But if you know me at all, you know how close I am with my brother. He's my only sibling and my best friend. I've spent more than my share of time crying on the couch because I MISS him, or I accidentally called to tell him something hilarious and got his depressing voice mailbox. But I try to write him as much as I can, and Jeff and I have already sent him box upon box of Mt. Dew in the mail, which I hope he appreciates. Shiz ain't cheap.
But there's an even more depressing element. He will miss the birth of my son, his first nephew. The little guy who will make him an Uncle. Our baby will be a year and a half old when Tyson meets him. BUT, we plan to make sure we talk a lot about Ty and show the baby plenty of pictures so that the second he comes home, they can be best buds.
Aaaaand, I've hit my limit. If I talk about this any more, I will cry! Thanks, progesterone.
I miss my baby brother :(
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
My boobs, my cervix, and my son...
... someday he's gonna CRINGE about being in the same sentence with my boobs and my cervix. But these are the facts.
*If you're an in-law, stop reading right now- you'll get the sensored version!*
Things with the pregnancy have been fairly routine, I finally stopped puking at about 5 1/2 months. Which means I've been (fairly) vomit free for a month and a half! (Math is hard. I'm 7 months pregnant, you're welcome) My newest thing is that the baby adores snuggling right up to my sciatic nerve. The term 'sciatic nerve', I'm pretty sure, is latin for "when your ass nerve catches on fire and burns your entire leg off, from the inside out." It feels super good. And it also does this fun thing, where sometimes my burned off leg will just stop working right in the middle of a nice stroll down the lane, and I'll stumble around like a drunk before finally catching my footing.
Speaking of urine (was I not speaking of it? I feel like I usually am), I've also learned that there's no possible way to just 'hold it' anymore. Because if the baby kicks a full bladder, I will absolutely 100% pee my pants. This may or may not have happened a good 3 times before I finally caught on (hint: it did happen that many times.)
Also, I broke my bra. No no no, my boobs broke my bra. They're massive. It's unlike anything I've ever seen, they're like from a horror movie. They terrify me and fascinate me all at the same time. And don't even get me started on Jeff, he adores them. Worships them, even. And it's torture, because he is not allowed NEAR them. They are filled with molten lava. Even walking around hurts too much because then they jiggle and the pain is agonizing. So, imagine how I felt when the underwire from my bra just popped out yesterday and skewered the sore, tender inside of my giant, engorged left boob. Pain doesn't even begin to describe it, it drew blood. And it's not like I can just take my bra off, it was 10am and I was at work. So I walked around with a cotton ball over the broken wire and winced every time I moved. And then I broke down and got a new bra at Kmart on the way home. Because cool kids shop at Kmart. And it was even on sale. I win.
Issue numero 4: The pressure in my cervix is unreal. I thought I was going to give birth on Sunday. BUT, when I went to the doctor for my 25 week appointment, I asked him about it and apparently, no big deal, it's just my pubic bone separating. And I looked at my doctor like he was nuts and I'm all, uh separating from WHAT, exactly? And he's all, oh itself. It needs to widen for the baby's head. And then I threw up, passed out, and died. Right on the exam table. Because I didn't know bones separated. That shit is unnatural. So, the point is, the pain is normal, and I just get to deal with it. Although he did give me a sheet with exercises on it that will help, but EFF exercises. Do I need to outline the sciatic nerve and boob issues for him? I'm doing the LEAST amount of moving that I can possibly get away with.
But, aside from all of that, I actually enjoy pregnancy ('enjoy' being a relative term). Jeff and I are at the fun part where we can buy him stuff and we already have his cradle set up in our room and I love to feel him kick, even though it pretty much always hurts because he's a ninja, and we're having fun with just all the planning. And I actually took a fairly hilarious video of my stomach having an earthquake, which shows that I do not exaggerate when I say he is all over the place. I can't tell exactly what the hell he's doing in there, but it makes my stomach look like one of those aliens from Alien is going to pop out at any minute and bite everyone's face off. And once I can get over posting a video of my big fat blobby white stomach as it rises and falls like the damn sea, I will. But until then, try not to picture it.
*After reading over this post, I decided two things:
1- I talk entirely too much about my boobs. Seriously.
and 2- This post makes it sound like I don't like my baby! I promise I do! I'm even starting to love the little karate master. I just find that no one is as honest about pregnancy as I'd have liked them to be, BEFORE I got pregnant. I wish I could have been better prepared for all the... MESSY stuff instead of just told that "it's a miracle" and "you'll want a hundred more" and "you'll love your child more than anything." Knowledge is power.
Which means this post is completely powerful.
Also, sometime this week I'm going to update this blog about things that have NOTHING TO DO WITH PREGNANCY! Because there's been a lot going on- my brother is gone for two looooong years, Jeff and I had an amazing and then depressing and then amazing-again Christmas and also, someone stole our porch chairs. Like I said. A LOT going on. Stay tuned!
*If you're an in-law, stop reading right now- you'll get the sensored version!*
Things with the pregnancy have been fairly routine, I finally stopped puking at about 5 1/2 months. Which means I've been (fairly) vomit free for a month and a half! (Math is hard. I'm 7 months pregnant, you're welcome) My newest thing is that the baby adores snuggling right up to my sciatic nerve. The term 'sciatic nerve', I'm pretty sure, is latin for "when your ass nerve catches on fire and burns your entire leg off, from the inside out." It feels super good. And it also does this fun thing, where sometimes my burned off leg will just stop working right in the middle of a nice stroll down the lane, and I'll stumble around like a drunk before finally catching my footing.
Speaking of urine (was I not speaking of it? I feel like I usually am), I've also learned that there's no possible way to just 'hold it' anymore. Because if the baby kicks a full bladder, I will absolutely 100% pee my pants. This may or may not have happened a good 3 times before I finally caught on (hint: it did happen that many times.)
Also, I broke my bra. No no no, my boobs broke my bra. They're massive. It's unlike anything I've ever seen, they're like from a horror movie. They terrify me and fascinate me all at the same time. And don't even get me started on Jeff, he adores them. Worships them, even. And it's torture, because he is not allowed NEAR them. They are filled with molten lava. Even walking around hurts too much because then they jiggle and the pain is agonizing. So, imagine how I felt when the underwire from my bra just popped out yesterday and skewered the sore, tender inside of my giant, engorged left boob. Pain doesn't even begin to describe it, it drew blood. And it's not like I can just take my bra off, it was 10am and I was at work. So I walked around with a cotton ball over the broken wire and winced every time I moved. And then I broke down and got a new bra at Kmart on the way home. Because cool kids shop at Kmart. And it was even on sale. I win.
Issue numero 4: The pressure in my cervix is unreal. I thought I was going to give birth on Sunday. BUT, when I went to the doctor for my 25 week appointment, I asked him about it and apparently, no big deal, it's just my pubic bone separating. And I looked at my doctor like he was nuts and I'm all, uh separating from WHAT, exactly? And he's all, oh itself. It needs to widen for the baby's head. And then I threw up, passed out, and died. Right on the exam table. Because I didn't know bones separated. That shit is unnatural. So, the point is, the pain is normal, and I just get to deal with it. Although he did give me a sheet with exercises on it that will help, but EFF exercises. Do I need to outline the sciatic nerve and boob issues for him? I'm doing the LEAST amount of moving that I can possibly get away with.
But, aside from all of that, I actually enjoy pregnancy ('enjoy' being a relative term). Jeff and I are at the fun part where we can buy him stuff and we already have his cradle set up in our room and I love to feel him kick, even though it pretty much always hurts because he's a ninja, and we're having fun with just all the planning. And I actually took a fairly hilarious video of my stomach having an earthquake, which shows that I do not exaggerate when I say he is all over the place. I can't tell exactly what the hell he's doing in there, but it makes my stomach look like one of those aliens from Alien is going to pop out at any minute and bite everyone's face off. And once I can get over posting a video of my big fat blobby white stomach as it rises and falls like the damn sea, I will. But until then, try not to picture it.
*After reading over this post, I decided two things:
1- I talk entirely too much about my boobs. Seriously.
and 2- This post makes it sound like I don't like my baby! I promise I do! I'm even starting to love the little karate master. I just find that no one is as honest about pregnancy as I'd have liked them to be, BEFORE I got pregnant. I wish I could have been better prepared for all the... MESSY stuff instead of just told that "it's a miracle" and "you'll want a hundred more" and "you'll love your child more than anything." Knowledge is power.
Which means this post is completely powerful.
Also, sometime this week I'm going to update this blog about things that have NOTHING TO DO WITH PREGNANCY! Because there's been a lot going on- my brother is gone for two looooong years, Jeff and I had an amazing and then depressing and then amazing-again Christmas and also, someone stole our porch chairs. Like I said. A LOT going on. Stay tuned!
Friday, October 22, 2010
... Survey says!
Sprout is a BOY!
Which means 44% of my blog voters were correct!
I didn't want to admit this before we found out, but I was kind of rooting for a boy. Their teenage years seem a lot less chaotic than a girl's.. I'm taking that from nothing by own teenage-hood, which I'm sure, put my parents through complete hell, I was such a whiney ass. I do not want one of me.
And since this will be our ONLY child, seeing as how this pregnancy sucks and I refuse to do it again, I'm glad it's a boy.
And a big, beautiful, HEALTHY boy as well! Who just so happens to be hilarious, he kept trying to shove the umbilical cord in his mouth, which I think is unsanitary, but what can I even do about it? Ground him?
Anyway, it's a boy. And we could not be more excited!
Which means 44% of my blog voters were correct!
I didn't want to admit this before we found out, but I was kind of rooting for a boy. Their teenage years seem a lot less chaotic than a girl's.. I'm taking that from nothing by own teenage-hood, which I'm sure, put my parents through complete hell, I was such a whiney ass. I do not want one of me.
And since this will be our ONLY child, seeing as how this pregnancy sucks and I refuse to do it again, I'm glad it's a boy.
And a big, beautiful, HEALTHY boy as well! Who just so happens to be hilarious, he kept trying to shove the umbilical cord in his mouth, which I think is unsanitary, but what can I even do about it? Ground him?
Anyway, it's a boy. And we could not be more excited!
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