An Inch of Miracle

Oh my gosh--Monday (July 11th) was the coolest EVER!  We had our first doctor's appointment and got to "see" baby for the first time!  We saw his/her whole body from head to rump (a mere 2.19 cm long--just shy of an inch!) and could make out a very strong, beating heart, little legs and arms that would twitch every now and then, and the cutest face (eyes, nose, lips, etc.) I have ever seen.  Baby measured 8 weeks, 6 days, which puts us at an estimated delivery date of 2-14-2012.  What a gift of love indeed!

Our Little One--First Photo!

It was just so amazing to see--really see--what the little life inside looks like.  The doctor said our little one will double its size every week for awhile, which means we'll have a 2" long baby next week this time; crazy!
I have generally felt so well thus far I was beginning to wonder if this pregnancy could possibly be in my head, but no--he/she is really there!

Raleigh's eyes teared up at the image on the screen and his verbal reassurances to both baby and I are so sweet and comforting.  he is going to be an excellent father, and in many ways, already is.  I am SO blessed to have him, and am so thankful we get to share this experience together.

Now that the first appointment is behind us (and all appears to be well!), we'll start to share the news with our friends and family.  It's good we'll get to spill the beans now, as it's been tough keeping something so exciting a secret for so long!

You know you're pregnant when . . .

Walking from the bed (upstairs) to the kitchen (downstairs) at 8p in the evening is so exhausting, you take a break to sit on the stairs in between and fall asleep again . . .

Hats

Today I came across this picture and it hit me--dear Kate looks good in nearly everything, and is especially fashionable in her choice of headwear.  This hat (which would look ridiculous on me) looks fantastic.  Even Mr. William looks quite dapper in his top hat!  I mean, how cute are they?!

In thinking about it, I've come to the conclusion that some people are just hat people.  They are able to wear all kinds of hats and look great.  Clearly, the English have it down.  Some are braver than others (see photos from the royal wedding for verification) however they do as an overall group look pretty good with something on their heads.

Me, on the other hand . . . well, I don't do well with much beyond an occasional stocking cap in the winter and/or a baseball cap on a lazy day I don't want to do my hair (of course even then, my ears stick out like a human version of Dumbo).  I've tried hats on before, and although they look good on the rack at the store, the minute it hits my head it transforms into a hideous piece of something-that-doesn't-belong-there.  Truly, I end up looking like a new character from the Muppets or a dressed thing-a-majig from a Dr. Suess book.  And even in the rare cases it doesn't look that bad, it still doesn't look good enough to justify the purchase.

Oh, how I'd love to be a hat person.  I'd totally like to have a great collection of hats versus shoes or jewelry or anything else, just because there are so many amazing, unique hats out there.  Check this out:

Beach Hat

Fedora

Knitted Beret

Bucket/Fishing Hat

Trapper Hat

Newsboy Hat

Maybe one day I'll find a hat (or two) that reflects my personality well AND looks good on my head.  In the meantime, however, I am not-so-secretly envious of folks who have already found their "hat knack".  :)

fashion feaux pas and fraggle rock hair

I am the farthest thing from being trendy.  For real.  Look at me.
The hippest things I own are a pair of pewter colored flats (wedding reception shoes), a set of spin pins, and a silver/ivory/black/pink pearl and glass-beaded necklace that loops twice around my neck for a super sexy look and 3 times to show a more sophisticated elegance.  I sometimes will sport a jean jacket over my dress clothes to add a chic urban flair to my otherwise (I feel) stuffy outfit, and sometimes I will wear my maroon corduroy blazer with a tank and jeans for the same reason.  I have some silk scarves I've once tied around my waist like a Hollywood diva (but it's been a LONG time), I don't own a single hat that isn't of the baseball or stocking cap variety, and I'm not a jewelry guru.  I wear my own thing (my style and color and whatnot), and that's that.  I go for comfortable far more often than I go for fashionable.  And on my stocky body, "comfortable" and "fashionable" don't often go together.

I'm just not trendy!

However . . . maybe I can be.  I read an article this week that said if you have some of items below, you're for sure to be trendy!  These items, they claim, should be in every girls' closet:
red flats: I totally want a pair.  A coworker of mine has a pair she wears from time to time and they provide the perfect pop of color with all the greys and blacks we often wear throughout the week.  But I wonder if on me they'd look more like bright red lipstick does to an over-makeupped glamour girl--eye catching, yes, but more of an "oh my!" than an "oh, myyyy . . ."
black dress: got it, yet it's nothing special.  One of these days I want the little black dress that just screams "lookin' hot and feeling good!"  You know, the one that when out on the town everyone points to and says, "Dang--that dress--and that girl--is rockin'!"
oversized watch: I've seen others pull this off well; me . . . well, I'm not so sure I could do it . . .
black opaque tights: Really?!  I hate wearing nylons of any kind!  I'd really have to stretch my box (and comfort zone!) to give that one a real shot.
leopard-print scarf: I don't think I could bring myself to do this one, at all.  Animal prints are just so not me.
statement necklace: Um . . . I could use some help here.  I know the necklace I mention above is pretty great, but I can't wear that every day . . .
striped shirt (horizontal): I'll do the vertical striped shirt, but I'm not in for the horizontal one.  No need to accentuate the belly I've long worked to hide.
classic trench coat: I think with the deep purple coat I received this past Christmas, I might really be on the way to having this one taken care of!

On top of all this, I have fraggle rock hair.  At least that's what Raleigh and I call it.  It's a patch of baby hairs growing from the crown of my forehead, that is now long enough to awkwardly stick up in a wirey bunch, completely contrary to the style of the day.  (Any day.)

With such hair and so few of the "must have" trendy items, I don't think I'm likely to be fashionable any time soon.  Maybe I should just stick to being me, since I appear to be good at that, trendy or not.

The Wheels on the Bus

Go round and round.  Yes, it is true; the song doesn't lie.

This week I've been commuting by bus (yup--from the Park-n-Ride 5 minutes from my house all the way to work in Centennial--35 miles), so I know firsthand how the whole system works.  See, it goes a little bit like this:

1. Wake up before the sun (5a) and get ready for work, minus wearing work clothes.  (Wear comfy clothes instead--with good walking shoes--and pack the work attire in the backpack for a change at the office later.)
2. Drive to the Park-n-Ride, and hustle to the gate near the highway for pickup.  (Unless you wake up earlier than 5a and can leisurly stroll towards the gate.)
3. Stand in the cold/sun/rain/hail (whatever Mother Nature feels like sharing) and wait for the bus.  If you're lucky, you'll be witness to a magnificent sunrise.
4. Greet the driver with a friendly smile and "Good Morning," and if possible, choose a seat 1-2 rows behind the wheelchair lift in the middle of the bus.  (Per my all-knowing husband, these seats provide the most legroom and provide the smoothest ride since they're at the pivot point between the front and back wheels.)
5. Settle in for a 45+ minute ride to the DTC.  Make sure whatever hot beverage you're drinking (because who can get up so early without one?) is securely situated where it won't tip over and spill if you happen to doze off during the ride.
6. Pull the cord when you're ready to get off (not too early or you'll be walking to the next stop, and not too late or you'll pass it and have to retrace your path back to the last one) and exit the bus.
7. Walk to the next stop, and patiently wait for the connecting bus.  Don't be alarmed if it is not there when it is supposed to be, as it is almost always late.  Enjoy your second dose of cold/sun/rain/hail (whatever Mother Nature feels like sharing) while patiently waiting.  Wait some more.
8. Board the next bus and sit down quickly; since the driver is late he accelerates and brakes in half the time he should and you'll get whipped around if not securely seated.
9. Ride the route, enjoying the whiptastic ride courtesy of the hurried driver and people-watching those who get on and off.  (My favorite so far is the young skater man who one day boarded the bus with his shoelace on fire--just another reason smoking is dangerous, kids--and today boarded with a different pair of shoes, with the right toe carefully wrapped with blue painter's tape.)
10. Again, pay attention to your location and exit the bus once close to your destination.
11. Walk the rest of the way to work (a short, 15 minute walk).  Enjoy the sights, smells and sounds of being outside so early in the morning: the birds singing in the trees, the smell of fresh rain on the grass, sounds of rushing water in drainage culverts, and the warm golden glow of the sun on everything her rays touch.
12. Get to work before everyone else, change into work clothes, and attempt to tame and re-style your hair which due to the humidity and wind looks as wild as if you were related to a lion or just completed a wrestling match with Randy Macho Man Savage.
13. Go throughout your day and then repeat the steps above, in reverse, once your workday is through!

So . . . really and truly, riding the bus isn't bad.  It has its ups and downs for sure, but the sheer fact that I'll be saving a TON of gas (and the money it'd cost to pay for it) each week, as well as the stress of driving in an hours' worth of rush hour traffic twice a day, and the physical pain in my shoulder from repeatedly shifting in a car that doesn't really "fit" my short legs and stocky torso very well far outweighs the costs.  Not to mention how much I'll be reducing the size of my ecological footprint . . .

And beyond that, the subculture of the bus is utterly fascinating.  Each day I see faces I saw the day before, and it's clear little communities exist on each particular route as folks ask others about their family, their work, and everything in between.  It's almost like a family.  The drivers for the most part are very kind and courteous, and with a very chipper attitude (a feat for those of us who are not morning folks) chauffeur us around town as we work from point A to B.  I giggle at how much it feels like we're kids heading off to school, exiting the bus with our backpacks and lunch pails, saying goodbye and "Have a good day" to the driver who with a sincere smile, wishes us the same.

The wheels on the bus do go round and round . . . all through the town.  And at least during the week, I'm going to be on it.

When Grandma Flew Away . . .

On Friday, April 1st, Grandma Ruth flew away Home.  Even now, in my grief, I take comfort in knowing that even before she took her last labored breath, Grandma Ruth was never alone, and had a heavenly escort the entire way to the gates of heaven.  Let me explain . . .

On Wednesday, March 30th, Grandma was unconscious most of the day.  She had taken a turn earlier in the week, and we, her family, knew her time with us was most likely coming to a quick end.  She slept most of the day, something the hospice nurse said was to be expected more and more as she made her transition.

At one point in the afternoon, she awoke with full lucidity, and in the mix of a clear and coherent conversation with my aunts and uncle in the room, asked a question that no one was expecting: "Who is that woman?"

"What woman, Mom?" my aunt asked, nearing her bedside.

"That woman right there, standing at the foot of my bed, wearing a long, white gown," Grandma Ruth answered.  "Can't you see her?!  She's beautiful . . ."

"Momma, there's no one there . . ."

And before anyone could probe any further, Grandma Ruth closed her eyes and slipped back into a restful sleep.  My aunts and uncle looked at each other in wonder about what happened, and resolved to ask her about it again if they had the chance.

Sure enough, a few hours later, my grandmother awoke again.  They discussed how she was feeling, if she wanted more medications, something to drink, what they each had done during the day by Grandma's bedside . . . and then, they asked.  "Mom, do you remember waking earlier, and asking us about the woman standing at the foot of your bed?"

"Of course I do," Grandma Ruth answered.  "I asked you who she was because she was just standing there, and I figured you'd know."

"But Mom," my uncle chimed in again, "There was no one there.  We looked, and we couldn't see her."

"That's what you say," Grandma said.

By now they were all wondering the same thing, but hesitant to ask in case it upset Grandma.  "Mom," my aunt carefully pressed, "do you remember, did the woman standing there . . . did she happen to have wings?"

Grandma Ruth cocked her head to one side to think for a moment, recalling her vision from earlier in the day.  "Why come to think of it," she said, "Yes, she did!"

There wasn't too much further discussion after that, as Grandma didn't stay awake for much longer and my aunts and uncle were too surprised (and exhausted) to dwell on the experience with any additional effort.  Grandma Ruth didn't wake again much after that, and slowly slipped deeper and deeper into a coma which along with medication to keep her comfortable, brought her ailing body much rest.  She finally flew away (I believe, with her heavenly escort) at about 10:45p CST on Friday evening.

This story brings me great comfort and joy, for a number of reasons.  First of all, from the moment we knew Grandma was going to be leaving us, I have prayed for God to keep her comfortable and for her to know how much she is loved and that she is never alone.  I actually prayed specifically for her to have an "escort" of sorts (though even in my prayers I didn't visualize a real angel guiding her way!), so that she could leave this world in peace and meet Jesus face to face without any anxiety or delay.  Perhaps this was my wish as I struggled to know that I most likely would not be by her side at the time she was going to leave us, and didn't want her to feel lost or lonely when her time would come.  To know that she was being watched over even before she left us brings me great comfort.  I can only imagine when the time came for her to fly away, that the angel took her by the hand, and led her the entire way.  She was not alone, and the best part--neither are we! 

Secondly, as I was discussing the situation with a friend, she brought up something I hadn't thought of before--Grandma's question/experience is such a blessing to our family.  To have verification from my grandmother herself to know that she was not alone is something that many families wish to have as they say goodbye to their loved ones, but never do.  It was almost as if through the experience herself, Grandma was saying, "See guys, I'll be ok.  I haven't even passed away from Earth yet and still God has sent his Angel down to be with me.  I am SO loved; you don't need to worry about me at all."

Furthermore, though, I believe that the experience was part of God's plan, in that allowing us to know of Grandma's heavenly visitor, we might each get a peek of the heaven that awaits us all.  We don't get to see everything now--it's not yet our time--however little bits and pieces like this suffice as proof that there is a heaven out there, and that God is great and wants us there!

Many times since Grandma's death, I have felt her presence nearby.  In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she has assigned herself to be one of my Guardian Angels, just to stay nearby and keep watch.  If so, I smile at the thought and warmly welcome her into that role.  If not, I know I have my Angel nearby, and will one day, see my grandma (and all others who may go before) again!

2nd Honeymoon

Whoever said the honeymoon has to end, or that you can only have one?  Not us!

On April 10th we'll be celebrating our first wedding anniversary; yes, it's been a hear already!

With Raleigh's new job and upcoming schedule change, and the uncertainty of when we might be traveling back to South Dakota to say goodbye to Grandma Ruth, we decided to sneak away while we could, and left town for a weekend celebration on Friday, March 25th.

Our destination was Palisade, Colorado--the heart of Colorado wine country--and it was FABULOUS!  We enjoyed afternoon wine tastings, a quiet patio suite smack dab in the middle of a vineyard (really, our front door opened to rows of carefully hung vines), and the ever inspiring beauty of the Western Slope.  It was romantic, peaceful, and provided us both with an invigorating breath of fresh mountain air and a relaxing atmosphere.

On Saturday we decided to kick the adventure notch up a bit, and head 2 hours into Utah to visit Arches National Park, a place where Raleigh has wanted to go since he was a kid.  We had a blast!  We did a fair amount of hiking, but got far more than a sweaty brow and sand in our shoes; the memories we created will last a lifetime.  Here are a few of our favorite photos of the day!

And now, onto another amazing year!