Monday, July 21, 2014

3's a crowd, 4's a party

We're growing. Our family and my belly.

Walter baby number 2 is due February 6, 2015. I would include a picture of our fetus but right now it looks more like something from the set of a science fiction movie than a human. Every time Baby Center sends me a Your Pregnancy This Week email, I think, "Ahhhhhh, look at that massive head and visible digestive track! Coochie coochie coo!" I would include a photo of my belly but it looks more like I've been eating too many carbs, which actually, I have, so maybe the bump is just gluten at this point.

Ivy seems to be okay with babies so long as I'm not holding them. The last time I had an infant in my arms, Ivy said, "No baby." So we have some work to do on that front.

We have a boy name we really like and a girl name we really like, so we're cool with either gender. If when I was pregnant with Ivy I told you that gender didn't matter, I was lying. I really wanted a girl. But this time I sincerely would be excited about a son or daughter, though my maternal instincts are telling me it's a boy. So I'm 50% sure it's a boy.

The first trimester has been challenging as I think most first trimesters are. Luckily, Zofran took my morning sickness from completely debilitating to just annoying. And at twelve weeks I'm over the fear of ectopic pregnancy or standard miscarriage. My energy is finally returning, I can open the fridge without dry-heaving, and I've only had one hormonal melt-down in the past week.

Last Friday I went to the doc for my monthly appointment and he pulled out the doppler. I panicked before the tool hit the stomach, suddenly convinced that something had gone horribly wrong and Doctor L would hear nothing. But then the sound of static transformed into a clear, strong rhythm, and I cried listening to baby's beating heart. So it looks like this family of four thing is really happening. Wish us luck....

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Fonder Heart?

Forgive the absence. Or maybe you didn't notice? Wow. Thanks a lot.

I've had a few time-consuming things going on that have sucked up my To Be To Marsing time.

Things like:

1. Finishing a book. My designer, illustrator, and I are trying to get the final manuscript to a publisher sometime this month. Honestly, I'm pretty proud that we've completed as much as we have given the number of times I've thought to myself "I'd like to write a book" and then made a sandwich instead. Here's a taste of the illustrations from the wildly talented McKay Felt

2. Starting an Etsy Shop. Wait...a mormon mom with an Etsy shop? Stop the press! How original. I know. But look. I like to sew. I enjoy beautiful fabrics and the ability to make something three-dimensional and wearable within a few hours. Plus, it's a joint venture with my forever friend Rachel Rushforth who makes the loveliest baby blankets and notecards. I'm really just riding her coattails on this one. Anyway. Here are some of projects I've listed so far:

You can find these listings and follow our upcoming projects in our shop ( or find us on Instagram @louboodesigns.

3. Blogging The Bachelorette. This is maybe the stupidest thing I've ever spent such a significant amount of time doing. But shoot if I don't love doing it. Catch up on Andi's season so far here, and then laugh with me every week because it's the most unintentionally hilarious show on television.  

In other news, I'm drinking Diet Coke again. For that brief caffeine-free period, I kept falling asleep for 2-hour stretches. I have a kid and a job and the projects listed above, which leaves no nap time. And honestly, I didn't feel any better off the sauce, and actually discovered that I don't really like life or people without Diet Coke. However I am drinking less than I was before the hiatus, so let's call it two steps forward one step back, okay?

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Officially Terrible

I'm seriously considering posting the following letter on the door of my surrounding neighbors.

"Hey Neighbor!
I'm Meg. My family and I just moved into Apartment _____. You may not have seen us yet, but chances are, you've heard us, which is precisely why I've sent you this note. I would just like to make it very clear that I am not routinely beating my child. While she screams like she's being pummeled to the edge of death, I can assure you that this is merely her new and super fun way of reacting to minor offenses which often include:

-Crust on her sandwich
-Cheese peeking out the edge of her quesadilla
-Milk in a sippy cup instead of a bottle
-Being told it's time for bed
-Being told it's time for a nap
-PBS playing the wrong episode of Dinosaur Train
-Bath time ending too soon
-Bath time starting too soon
-Diaper changes
-Wearing pants
-Wearing shoes
-Being offered strawberries
-Being offered cookies
-Someone trying to pick up her toys in the living room
-Being awake
-Being asleep
-Being at Target
-Being at any retail establishment where people will look at a screaming child and harshly judge its mother
-Being at any retail establishment that a child's mother must routinely visit in order to feed her family
-Being at any retail establishment that a child's mother thought would be a fun place to visit
-Wanting a balloon
-Losing a balloon
-Being asked if she needs to use the potty
-Being told the potty is not a toy
-Just living life in general

I'm just as baffled as you are, neighbor. Up to this point my kid has been a mild one, but it seems she's decided to let her toddler flag fly. It could be our recent move. It could be the cold she's been fighting for the past two weeks. Or she could just be two. Regardless, please do not call the authorities the next time you hear what sounds like major distress, and please let me know if I can buy you a pair of earplugs.


Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Not Dead

Big news! Stephen joined a cult was accepted to Hogwarts became a Founding Fathers impersonator graduated! That hat though, I mean, right? Why?!

There's not much to say except I'm really proud of him, and really glad it's over.

Also, we're Utahns now (again)! We put Phil, Mary, Brad and Carey (Stephen's parents and my parents, respectively) to work hauling boxes over graduation weekend. It's a good thing the parents showed up because I had reached the point in packing where "Let's just set this place on fire" felt like a totally rational thought. Thanks for saving me from life in prison on arson charges, family.  

The lot of us caravanned to Salt Lake and unloaded the U-Haul into our new Cottonwood Heights apartment. Our place is nice and clean, but short on storage. I hope to someday build a house made entirely of storage space. I'm thinking 72 closets, each with 14 shelves. Maybe then I won't have to pile mixing bowls, board games and winter coats into the same space. We all have dreams. But for now the reality is making three separate trips to Target for organization bins and shoe racks. $300 on my Red Card later and we're pretty much moved in. 

We've killed six spiders so far. Well, Stephen killed five massive, possibly deadly spiders, and I killed a baby spider that may actually have been an ant. I guess easy entry for bugs is the downside to ground floor living. The upside is not having to carry a gallon of milk, six grocery bags and a two-year-old up a flight of concrete stairs. The other upside is no downstairs neighbors, and no guilt when I drop something or vacuum at midnight or throw a dance party for the first time in my life. 

Now, the biggest news of all: It's been two weeks since my last Diet Coke. I feel tired and not as new woman-y as I had hoped. I guess I thought that once I let go of my beloved cans, I would be awash in a healthy glow and full of natural energy. Instead I'm fighting a losing battle against the 2:30 sleepies and wondering when days got so long. Sure, some of the fatigue may be due to a week spent moving and a toddler who no longer takes naps (pray for me), but I don't remember being this wiped in a long time. Also, I just plain miss the taste of Diet Coke. So really I don't know how much longer I'll last before jumping off this wagon. Now if you'll excuse me, I need a nap. 

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Dark Days

I'm on my second day without Diet Coke and I feel...

I mean, I'm better than I was yesterday. Yesterday was apocalyptic. Yesterday was also mine and Stephen's fourth wedding anniversary. I'm just the kind of exemplary wife who decides to make a drastic life change on the day that should be devoted to celebrations of love. But honestly, Stephen is in the middle of finals so the night promised little romance to begin with.

Anyway. Why would I give up something I love? And I do love Diet Coke. I love Diet Coke. I do not, however, love what it is most likely doing to me, my heart, and my bones. This is admittedly my own fault. Moderation is a concept lost on me. And at the risk of sounding dramatic, I think I have an addictive personality. I can't have just one delicious, frothy, cold beverage a day. I have five. And while one can a day may not have dire health consequences, five very well might. Also, I could buy much nicer shoes with the money I'm spending on twelve-packs. Also also, I had taken to calling the drink "Mommy's Go-Go Juice" which places me in the same realm of class as Honey Boo Boo. Unacceptable.

So here we are.

Day 2.

Yesterday I went to bed at 9:30 to sleep off the migraine. I had three carbonated waters to fill the void, and six tylenol to help take the edge off the anvil bouncing around in my skull. If I moved my head too suddenly, I yelped in pain. I resisted the urge to vomit all night. But I think that was the worst of it.

Today my head isn't so much screaming as murmuring. I had eggs for breakfast in the hopes that protein would provide the energy caffeine once did. I'm moving a little slower than normal, but I haven't passed out yet. Honestly, I don't really miss it so far. But it is only day two, and I haven't faced a plate of tacos, or an early morning with a baby, or any other situation that in my previous 15 years would make Diet Coke an absolute necessity. 

We'll see how I fare in the coming weeks. Wish me luck...

Thursday, April 24, 2014


Tomorrow we're driving to Utah for the millionth time which means I'll be spending most of the day in Wyoming which means it will not be a Happy Friday. So let's all enjoy this video together today.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Someone probably called the police when they saw me taking pictures from my balcony.

You know how your hair always looks awesome the day before you get it cut? That's my life right now but the hair is Colorado and the cut is moving to Utah. I mean sure, most places are spectacular in the spring, and most places would be hard to leave in early May. But the fresh blossoms, green grass, and warm temps are only part of what's making it difficult to depart.

Why you gotta be so lovely, tree?

Three years is just long enough to become attached to a place, and I'm getting weirdly sentimental about saying goodbye to my favorite grocery store, restaurants, etc. 

I even got a little teary-eyed walking out of my annual doctor's appointment. When we moved here in the middle of a pregnancy and I didn't really know anyone or have anywhere to go, I looked forward to my weekly appointment as though it was a gathering with friends. In fact I forced the receptionists, nurses and doctor to be my friends, sometimes staying for an hour or more chatting.

I bought $250 worth of merchandise at my favorite fabric shop and made the cashier promise that they would start selling online.

I feel like I need to explain to the owner of our favorite Thai place that we're moving, and that we would continue to eat there weekly for the rest of our lives if we could. 

But we can't. We can't survive on my part-time freelance income, and it would kill Edith, or maybe Edith would kill us, if we stayed. One hott hair day does not mean you should never cut your hair again. That's disgusting. And so is the smell of Edith's smoking that seeps in through our air vents. So it's goodbye, Colorado. Thanks for being awesome today.