Tuesday, June 16, 2015

There We All Go

Big news from the Here We All Are clan:

Do you have any idea how many times I watched this movie as a child? 26 years later and I can still bust this out like it's 1989. 

We're flitterin'. All the way to Greenville, South Carolina. And we are so so excited. No big reason, we just felt like we wanted a change. Do you think this'll do it?

Frequently Asked Questions:

Why South Carolina?
Darron has an aunt and some cousins out there, and he lived there for a year, so it's not quiiiite a spin the globe and poke it kind of move.

Have you been there?
Yes. Once. For five days.

Yes, but during the summer? 
No. 

Because you know it's gonna be hot?
Yes that's what I hear. From everyone.

What sparked this move?
Darron visited a few months ago, and the idea was conceived. He came home and brought it up, yada, yada, yada, we're moving in a month and a half. First of August.

You know about humidity, right? 
In theory, yes. 

How do your kids feel about it? 
Surprisingly great. Delilah: doesn't count. Thomas: initially worried, was promised an axe, is now doing fine, dreaming of all the things he can chop. Ava: was promised a dog, couldn't be more thrilled. Halle: was promised new friends and closer proximity to her favorite cousin, totally on board. Hinckley: perfectly happy from the get-go, that kid is always fine. I'm sure as things get closer to actually happening, the sadness and loss will set in a bit more, but we feel confident that everyone will be just fine.

And you?
I can't say it won't be sad and hard. We've lived in our home for 14 years. We've been a part of a fantastic, accepting, supportive ward full of good people we love and admire. I am not known for my ability to stay in touch with anyone really, so this will test me and possibly force me back onto social media. It will also put a distance barrier between us and Darron's family here in Utah and an even greater distance between me and all of my West Coast family. Visits will be more difficult and expensive and time consuming and require much more forethought and preparation. I'll need to make some adjustments for sure. 

So let's just say for example, you take a shower in the morning, do your hair, put on your makeup and deodorant and dry clothes and then you walk outside and bam, a bucket of sweat is dropped on you and you're drenched. And stinking. And your makeup slides off and pools at your feet.
I hear what you're saying--

And also you want to die.
Yes but--

A big, soggy, stinking frizzhead with no makeup. That's what you'll be. 
Okay, yes, okay. It will be different. I know (in my head) it will be hot and humid. I know it won't be like Utah. And I'm looking forward to the changes that it will bring. The weather (yes), the landscape, the places to visit, the proximity to the ocean and historical and church landmarks. A whole new side of the country I know nothing about will be available to us. My kids will be challenged in ways they've never before been, as will I and Darron. We love Utah and I consider it home, as it's been for the past 20 years, but we are ready to try something new and create a new "home". This opportunity has fallen in our laps seemingly from nowhere, but we feel like we can make it into everything for our family. I feel hungry for new adventure and growth and plan to make the most of all of the changes that will come our way as a result of this decision. 

The biggest surprise we've encountered when we've told people about this move is how many people secretly want to do it too...pick up and move somewhere totally new and start over. What is it about doing this that is so appealing? I admit, I've fantasized about it for years. 

Our house is up for sale, We have a rental home ready and waiting and are in the process of finding a lot to suit our fantastical wish list on which to build a house. Seriously can't wait. :)




Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Two Birthdays

Halle turned twelve. Woohoo! She also recently got her hair cut. I asked her if she wanted me to cut it or if she wanted to go to a salon. "Well, Mom, even when we go get it cut, you always come home and have to fix it anyway, so you can just do it here."
See her necklace? It's her Young Women medallion. She gets to meet with the "OLDER GIRLS" at church now . Now that she's "OLDER". And not a little girl anymore. By whose standards, that's what I'd like to know. We're allowing her to wear a little bit of makeup, and thankfully she's not pushed the envelope on "little bit".

We have this horrid family tradition where the kids kids bash the birthday girl over the head with her gifts. Sounds fun, don't it? 

Hinckley also had a birthday. Fourteen years old and 59 1/2 " tall according to our pediatrician. Hinckley claims he was caught unaware by the measuring and had he been given sufficient warning, definitely would have been able to eke out another half inch. 


Paybacks

What does a fourteen year old wish for? Handsomeness? A dreamy smile? Eyelashes that just won't quit? Done.

And Delilah!


Wednesday, February 25, 2015

How to Break Up with Your Gynecologist (and other uncomfortable things)

I just don't know.

Oh wait what? You thought I'd have the answer? Sorry, I guess it does sound like a how-to post title, but I meant it as more of a thinking-out-loud-with-a-hopeless-sigh musing-type title. Because it's HARD, by golly, and I'm not sure why.

I'm an introvert. With a long list of things that make me "uncomfortable".
-confrontation
-thinking people don't like me
-phone calls (especially phone calls. I'm bad enough talking to people in person. Take away the visual cues and I'm hopeless.)
-talking to people (people I only sort of know, or am supposed to get to know. Hanging out with other parents at school functions? For example? The worst.)
-social gatherings (UGH)
-asking workers at a store where something is. I live in fear of asking the wrong person at Lowe's where the sandpaper is. "Well, that's not my department and I'm already assisting three people ahead of you but if you're determined to make me go out of my way for you and your sandpaper then fine, I can help. Later though, not right now. I am SO busy."
-going to my gynecologist

It hasn't always been this way. I used to not mind my yearly doctor exam. My first obstetrician/gynecologist was a little strange, but frankly, so was the whole experience, so it may not have been him. Then I had another doctor that I really liked. He was older and experienced and made me feel safe. I trusted his experience and gray hair and middle aged ladies that ran the front desk. He delivered my first baby. His gray hair made him a little too popular though, and I changed again, after growing tired of having to wait an hour+ for my appointments. My next doctors were part of a team of three. They were fine. Two I liked, one not so much. But I could choose who I saw so it wasn't a big deal. Then I had a little incident. I had some physical issues after my second baby and when I told them about my concerns, they were just swept aside. In (what I interpreted to be) a sorry-lady-that's-what-happens-get-over-it manner. Fortunately, in this particular practice, there were five midwives also. So I just decided to switch on over. And it was fantastic! What a change! Those lovely, sweet, kind-hearted ladies listened to me! And didn't rush me out! And asked probing questions and drew me out and acted like they cared about my answers. I was smitten. They had shorter fingers, it's true, but it was a small price to pay.

And then...now... since I'm done having babies, I've been moved back over to the male doctors. They're all new now. Younger. Busier. More important. You know. The doctor I saw yesterday for my yearly exam asked his questions so rapid fire he was biting off the ends of my response with his next question. If I had been experiencing "anymentalissuesanyanxietydepressiondarkthoughtsinabilitytocopewithlife?" I'd tell the 16 year old bagger at the grocery store before I'd tell him. This was actually the third time I've seen this doctor, during which times he has questioned me on 1) my decision to not get a flu shot 2) my choice of doctor for a surgery I had last year 3) my chosen method of birth control. And not a hey let's talk about your options way of questioning, but in a really you're doing THAT you poor misinformed woman? way.

So I'm at the height of frustration, and I am sooo ready to break up but I just can't seem to make myself. I've been putting it off for two years. I realize there's really not much to do. I don't have to call him. I don't have to talk to anyone and present my list of grievances. I'm not going to hurt anyone's feelings. No one will even notice I've gone. I just pick a different provider through my insurance and stop calling the old one. So easy. So passive. But still so uncomfortable. It makes my insides squirm and hurt. I'll have to find someone new. I'll have to acquaint myself with a new office and commute and receptionist. I'll no longer walk the halls that are so familiar to me after 13 years of anticipating and growing and dreaming about babies. Where I discussed symptoms and listened to heartbeats and wept when I saw tiny little feet and hands and spines and perfect little faces for the first time. Where we counted down days and discussed birth plans and dilation. I'll have to admit to myself that I just don't need an OB/Gyn or a midwife as a primary care provider anymore because I won't be bearing any more children.

Oh.

Yes. That is hard.