Driving

I got my first learner's permit when I was fourteen (and a half) but I wasn't wild about the idea of driving. I didn't rush out to take the written test on my birthday like my friends did and I didn't beg my parents to let me drive. Ever.

When I moved to Utah my lack of excitement about driving hardened into downright hatred. I was determined to never drive. Ever. Moving from a small town with a piddly handful of traffic lights to a full-blown city with hundreds of traffic lights, huge roads, and heavy traffic was intimidating.

My determination faltered when I realized I'd be leaving the family nest and striking out on my own. No longer could I hitch a ride with my mother or ask my mother-in-law to chauffeur me places. Gone was our home within walking distance of good public schools. And—darn it all!—f there isn't an astounding lack of dirt-cheap taxis and minibuses and metros in America (this isn't Cairo). To top it all off, I would be responsible for chauffeuring my own children around to places they'd want to go and they are getting old enough that they have expectations (like gymnastics classes, for example) that require a commute.

So, I reluctantly began driving lessons a couple of weeks before moving out to North Carolina and, thanks to the incredible patience of my father-in-law, gained primitive (yet adequate) driving skills in a relatively short amount of time.

I'm a bit of a nervous driver. I rival Barney Stinson (watch this). For real.

Now that I'm here I don't know how I ever found Utah roads to be intimidating.

Attention starved? He's a glutton!

For those of you wondering if Benjamin gets enough attention, here's your answer:

Now bring us some twiggy pudding

Figs have always seemed foreign to me, perhaps because my first encounter with a fig tree was in Jordan when I was pelted with a rogue fig while hiking through the Siq in Petra. Figs, like dates, are at home in the Middle East and the Mediterranean and other places like that (ie. not my backyard), except now my backyard is a place "like that." Deliciously warm, delightfully humid, and...alright, alright... I have no idea what I'm talking about when I say "deliciously warm" and "delightfully humid" since I missed most of the dog days of summer.

Still, we've had a few warm and humid days since my arrival. We also have figs.

Benjamin's Blessing (July 29)

In true whirlwind fashion, we blessed Benjamin before moving out to North Carolina on July 29th. Uncle Jacob was giving his homecoming talk that day as well so it was kind of a double-whammy for our family. We blessed Benjamin in the backyard before church and then we hung out at home with my siblings and grandma while everyone else headed to church for sacrament meeting. I would have loved to hear Jacob speak but Benjamin was still under house arrest (it was only later that we realized I could have left him in the care of my mom while I went to church for an hour; we did that the next week but totally didn't think of it this week).

Andrew gave Benjamin a beautiful blessing—I think I even heard him choke up a time or two but he categorically denies this. As unmanly as Andrew may feel to have gotten teary-eyed around Benjamin I can't say I blame him. He really ran us through the emotional ringer the first few weeks of his life. 

Here are my two cute boys together:

At first Benjamin was like, "Whoa! My hands are in my face and all over the place!"

Getting acquainted with North Carolina's medical system

My cousin Heather is known to make up fabulous stories for otherwise boring injuries. For example, if she fell off her bike and scraped her legs up she'd probably tell you she got in a fight with a mountain goat. Because talking about some injuries is just plain boring because there is no back story.

This is one of those times.

At lunch on Thursday Miriam was goofing off at the table when *boom!* she slipped off the bench and landed smack on her face. By the time I'd picked her up two seconds later there was blood running down her face, covering her hands, dripping onto the floor, splattering on her dress... Head wounds bleed a lot.

I ran her to the kitchen and held her over the sink while I got a paper towel to stop the bleeding. It soaked up two whole paper towels worth of blood but was able to stop the bleeding. We put a bandaid on it and then I worried. And worried some more. And then, for good measure, I worried some more.

I looked information up online. Everything I read told me she needed stitches.

The Secret Garden: In Our Attic

Our new house is beautiful (and once we get moved in a little bit more I'll be glad to share some pictures with everyone who has been asking to see pictures) but it had one little drawback—there is no storage in this house! The closets are all tiny. It's not even advisable to walk in our "walk-in" closet in groups of more than one. Needless to say, we were at a loss about where to store our suitcases and our Christmas tree, among other things.

And then one day we ventured into the attic (rather, Andrew ventured into the attic at my prompting (and pleading and nagging and begging—the wall of un-unpackable boxes was driving me nuts!)) and found what Andrew has coined "The Secret Garden."

"It's beautiful!" he said, climbing down from the attic. "There's a huge platform up there where we can fit tons of stuff!"

Karen and I took turns peeking into the attic.

It was a beautiful solution to our too-much-stuff dilemma. The first thing I noticed, however, were the mice droppings. Eek. Still, space is space, even if there are mice. Plus, there are exterminators, right?

So Andrew and I spent this afternoon hauling stuff into the attic. Because I'm small and weak and unable to heft huge boxes over my head I was given the task of going into the attic and hauling the boxes onto the platform while Andrew pushed from the bottom.

Spiders and Butterflies

On Tuesday night Andrew put our trash out on the curb. Lucky for us that's the same day we had to put out our trash in Utah so we aren't (as) likely to forget about garbage day! We had a lot of garbage this week—so much that Andrew had to make a few trips to the curb after dark to sneak in some last minute items as we were unpacking because somehow garbage kept accumulating around us.

As he was walking out to the trash can he thought he'd take a shortcut across the lawn but decided against it when he noticed something glimmering on the grass. He stopped to stare at it and realized it was a spider's web, which made him rather glad he didn't go that way. Upon further inspection he noticed that the web wasn't on the grass at all. It was stretching from the tree above all the way down to the grass below. It was huge! Had he walked across the grass he would've walked right into that web.

Welcome to North Carolina

After a long and tiring flight, Benjamin and I made it safely to our new home. We've been working non-stop (except for nap time) ever since (at least until yesterday when we took a little time out to play).  The girls were more excited to see me than I thought they would be since they didn't seem too distraught over me not moving out there with them. They were waiting for me at the airport with Grandma and ran up to give hugs and kisses to both me and Benjamin before checking the diaper bag for snacks. I was more important to them than snacks. That's a huge deal. 



They've loved having Benjamin around and he's loved being around them. They talk and sing to him and sometimes they even manage to play together nicely, too, so that they're all kept entertained while the grown ups are working. 

Farewell to Utah

Today is my last day in Utah. Andrew and the girls left last Saturday and, after a tantrum-free road trip across the United States (And, no, I am not being sarcastic--no tantrums were thrown. And, yes, that's some kind of miracle), arrived in North Carolina on Tuesday. They started moving into our new house on Thursday.

Somehow, despite all the discussions we had about our moving plans, the girls forgot that our stuff was coming with us and were very excited when their favourite things started getting unpacked. I had a hunch this would happen because while we were packing they both (but mostly Miriam) would snatch things away and beg for it not to get packed. Then I would explain again that in order for this most-beloved thing to make it to North Carolina it would need to be packed up and put into the moving truck.

Not only were they confused about whether their stuff would make it to North Carolina or not they both seem to be a little confused about whether Benjamin and I are going to make it to North Carolina or not.

On Monday night I got a phone call from the girls before bed.

Rachel asked how Benjamin was doing. He was rather grumpy the first half of this week, probably due to the five shots he got last Thursday, in addition to having alingual frenectomy, and the stress of having everyone from his family disappear except for me. Whatever the cause of it, Benjamin was terribly grumpy, so I told Rachel this and then conjectured that it was because he missed her and Miriam.

"Well, Mom," Rachel ventured after taking a deep breath, as if she were suggesting something wild and crazy, "Maybe after we get to North Carolina you could come and visit for a while. And bring baby Benjamin, too...so that we can see him."

"I think I will do that," I told her, "only I'll probably just live with you guys instead of visit, okay?"

"Really?!" she gasped, completely surprised.

How did that girl miss out on that important detail?

Anyway, one of the first things the girls did when they arrived in North Carolina was explore the woods in the backyard of the house they were staying at (before they moved into our house). Andrew took pictures of them to send to me, so I took a picture of Benjamin in our front yard here to send to them there, and you know what? North Carolina is green!

Goodbye, desert! Goodbye, Deseret!

Smiles

When I took Benjamin to his 2 month appointment last week, the nurse quizzed me on hs milestones.

"Does he smile responsively?" she asked.

 "He's smiled a couple of times," I told her.

 "Does he coo?" she asked. 

"He's said 'ooo' a couple of times but he doesn't just sit there and coo, no." 

"Tough crowd!" she remarked.

 And then we weighed him--he was 8 lbs. 15 oz. I was pretty proud of those numbers but the nurse clicked her tongue and said, "Was he small when he was born because he's pretty tiny..."

"He was seven weeks early," I reminded her. "So, yes, he was small."

She checked her chart. "Ah," she said, nodding her head. "He shouldn't be doing any of that smiling or cooing stuff yet, anyway, then. He's good."

This week, though, Benjamin has been a lot more responsive. This morning he smiled and cooed at the same time while maintaining eye contact. He's just growing up so fast!

I tried catching his big, open-mouthed grin but by the time I took the picture this is all that was left:

Just a hint of a smile, but still just lovely.