Wednesday, February 29, 2012

All friends living in D.C. and surrounding areas,

It looks like there's a good chance we're headed your way this summer. Advice? Housing tips? I tried calling the Obamas to see if we could stay there, but I couldn't get through. Best places to eat? Museums with cheap admission prices? GUIDE ME.

Ivy is smiling, and it's officially the cutest thing I've ever seen. And I've seen this:

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

I'll never let go, jack

This cracked me up:

Bachelorettes Ashley and Allie take Emily under their wings, prepping her for her upcoming season of The Bachelorette. The day's activites included shopping, makeovers, and a movie, Titanic in 3D more specifically. All of that is normal enough, though they did go to the movie in mini dresses and probably froze to death because movie theaters are heckacold, and they probably couldn't eat any popcorn because they would bloat and rip their outfit. The hilarity ensued with their commentary of the movie. How it's the greatest love story of all time and the epitome of a perfect relationship. How Ashley and JP have that kind of love. How Emily deserves such love in her life. I have to assume this was their first time seeing Titanic, because SPOILER ALERT, the ship sinks. Jack dies. Wishing such tragedy on anyone else is sadistic. Wishing it on yourself is masochistic. Actually, that explains a lot about this television franchise.

In other news, I have approximately one million extra birth announcements. Want one? Send me an email with your address. You could leave a comment with yoru email, but then the spammers who seem to love my blog so much might hunt you down. To be fair, they are really nice and promise lots of fun things like herbal enhancement, extra income, and more comments on my blog, which totally works as you can tell by the number of comments this past week. Oh wait...this is awkward...

Monday, February 27, 2012

never question bruce dickinson

Yesterday I turned 26 years old and Ivy turned one month old.
To celebrate, on Saturday night we took Ivy out for her first burger. She was super hungry and ordered a ton of food:

JUST KIDDING, settle down. I'm not feeding my infant fast food. She's a pretty strict vegetarian. In actuality, all the excitement was too  much for Ivy and she fell asleep. I, however, did some pretty serious damage to a cheeseburger and fries.

That crazy look in my eyes? That's burger lust. I love me a beef patty smothered in cheese.

Yesterday Stephen made pizza and I made a cake. We've been watching a lot of Cake Boss on Netflix, and we've started channeling Buddy (THE cake boss) while in the kitchen by saying things like, "The two of Youz, youz guyz set the table." or, "I gotta get this friggin cake made and then I gotta friggin eat it." It's the greatest show. I made chocolate cake because that's Ivy's favorite. JUST KIDDING, settle down, I'm not feeding my infant chocolate cake. She prefers vanilla. No, seriously, I'm just kidding. Please don't call the authorities.

Hey! You! What are you doing on March 30? There's no way you already have plans unless you're a celebrity or royalty or both like Kate Middleton. Kate? Are you reading? Please share all your beauty secrets. The rest of you should come to The Porch at Muse Music in Provo on March 30. Yours truly will be telling a story, and so will other more legit people. Tickets go on sale tomorrow morning. Purchase them here:

Thursday, February 23, 2012

less business

I'm going to start a fashion/style/wardrobe blog. I figure that I have an advantage over other such blogs because I wear at least three different ensembles each day. There's the pajamas that I sport until noon or Ivy's morning nap, which ever comes first, then a Target T-shirt with jeans, until that T-shirt is spit up on and I change into a second Target T-shirt. There's also the Take Ollie Outside accessories, a puffy coat and galoshes, worn regardless of rain or shine. I'll probably get tons of hits because it's completely amazing how many Target T-shirts one person can go through in a week. Also, because it's amazing that I wear my hair in the exact same ponytail each day. The internet loves amazing things like that.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

figure it out

Ivy, Ollie and I just took our first walk together. The walk was great, it was getting a stroller, baby and dog outside and down a flight of stairs, then up a flight of stairs and back inside again that was complete chaos. It reminded me very much of that mind puzzle thing about getting the fox and a chicken and a container of jelly beans or something across the river on a raft and there's some other complication I can't remember. The fox is going to eat the chicken? The jelly beans are actually dynamite? I've never solved it, or really tried.

I may have been a tad overzealous in bundling Ivy up for the frigid 60 degree weather:

Monday, February 20, 2012

what's a chicken store?

There are few things more terrifying than opening one of those little apple sauce cups. Will it splatter or won't it? It's a regular Russian roulette.
Kind of like putting a delicious carbonated beverage on the top shelf of the fridge for a few hours. When opening you may have the perfect, frosty, part ice diet coke, or you might have a cola explosion that clobbers you, your white couch, your dog and your infant. Not that I have any experience with such a scenario....MOTHER OF THE YEAR.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

it's all right

Happy 3 weeks, Baby Ivy!

Has it only/already been three weeks? I feel like Ivy's always been part of our family, but I also feel like we were just in the hospital.

It's amazing the change that 3 weeks brings. Ivy's developed likes and dislikes (likes being held, dislikes not being held), deliberate facial expressions, the ability to reach out and touch, and a wide range of noises, including humming while she eats and growling while she sleeps. 

As for me, I forget I was ever pregnant. That is until I feel my jeans cutting off my circulation. But that might have more to do with eating brownies for breakfast than child-bearing.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

personal network

Let's talk about The Bachelor. No, let's.
The Bachelor makes me extremely embarrassed to be a woman, but extremely happy to be a television viewer.
Girls, GIRLS, get a grip. Count the number of hours you've spent with Ben. Total. Is it more than five? No. It's not. You are not in a relationship. You're on a game show. And the only person who seems to understand this is Courtney the villian, who you all spend WAY too much energy hating on, when we know that she has to stick around for at least one more episode for the sake of ratings.
Also, if you don't want to scale a building or swim with sharks or jump out of a helicopter, you don't have to. Imagine you're on a date without cameras, and John Doe says "Oh you hate spiders? That's funny because our plan for the evening is to walk around with spiders on our heads." I don't know about you, but I would probably say "You know, I just remembered, I have the plague. You probably better take me home." Facing your worst fears does not prove your love for Ben. It is not, I repeat, IS NOT a metaphor for your relationship, because I'll remind you that you are not in a relationship. If you are, it's borderline abusive the way he's making you scale buildings and swim with sharks and jump from helicopters, despite you hating all of those things. Most couples go to the movies. They prove their love by sharing the popcorn. The Muppets movie is a metaphor for their relationship. And the success rates of those relationships are far better than those of the Bachelor/Bachelorette franchise, which is like 1 for 38 last time I checked.
But I'm probably just wasting my breath. The dude made you all go skiing in bikinis and you stuck around. You're obviously impervious to sanity.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

california raisins

3 years ago today Stephen and I went skiing for our first real date.
2 years ago Stephen and I went skiing and he proposed.
And now this V-day we're skiing the slopes of parenthood. Yikes. That was really rough. Forgive me.

Her face reflects how most of us feel when wearing an accessory for the first time. Is it too much? Am I trying too hard? I've assured her that while yes, sometimes headbands are overpowering, this one is the perfect size to add a subtle, feminine touch to her ensemble. 

Happy Valentine's Day, lovers.

Monday, February 13, 2012

i have two ears and a heart, don't i?

Good news! We have another crazy neighbor. I "met" her today, and by met I mean we had an enounter. I was out with Ollie, who was taking care of business. From the top floor of our building rang the noise of a door slamming followed immediately by a woman yelling "Avery! Avery! Slow down!" Soon we saw the woman headed down the stairs, and it was obvious that Avery was her massive dog, who, as it seemed, is not very good at stairs. Down all three flights Avery tried to bolt, while our upstairs neighbor strained to control the beast that must be twice her body weight. I apologized for Ollie barking and quickly moved to another spot of lawn where monster dog was out of sight (though I could still hear "Avery no! Avery!"). I thought we were free and clear, and when Ollie finished we headed back inside. Bad timing, because Avery and owner walked up the stairs on the other side at the exact same time. So we met at the second floor landing, and when Avery saw Ollie, it was all upstairs lady could do to hold him back. My dog and I nearly sprinted to our door, and while I tried to unlock the door, she yelled "Hurry!" Have you ever been yelled at while trying to use a key? I imagine it's like being yelled at while trying to diffuse a bomb. Did she think I wasn't hurrying? Did the look of terror in my eyes fail to communicate how badly I wanted to get away from Avery? Every day brings a new friend here in our neck of the woods.

Ivy finds the above story troubling. 

Thursday, February 9, 2012

to the beat

Ollie trapped himself under the crib. It took an impressive amount of skill to wiggle through the small gap between crib and floor, a skill which he then forgot or lost or whatever happens to skills, and he couldn't wiggle his way back out. Realizing the severity of his predicament, Ollie started barking his most desperate bark and staring at me as if I would know what to do. The only thing I could think to do was laugh. So there we were, Ollie trying to squeeze his body through an obviously too small space, giving up, howling, and me laughing at his pathetic(ness? ism? icity?). Then, after about twenty minutes of being a terrible person, I made my best attempts to help him out. I didn't want to lift the crib, since Ivy was sleeping in it, so I tried coaxing him out. I failed. Repeatedly. It was only after I grabbed the bag of marshmallows that Ollie became excited enough to scramble out from his prison. And so I learned that my dog's will to eat a marshmallow is greater than his will to live a life free of confinement. I can relate.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012


Earlier this morning...

Ivy: I'm awake!
Me: Ivy, maybe you should go back to sleep for a little while.
Ivy: Nope! I'm awake!
Me: Ok, I'm going to sleep for ten more minutes.
Ivy: Nope! Hold me!
Me: Are you hungry? Need a diaper change? Tummy ache?
Ivy: Nope! I just want to stare at stuff.
Me: And you don't want to stare at stuff from your bassinet?
Ivy: Nope! And if you leave me in here I'll do the grunting thing, then the scrunchy face thing, then make the pre-cry noises. It's not worth it. Trust me.
Me: Fine. You win.
Ivy: Of course I do.

Before we left the hospital, I had a final check with Dr. N. "I feel great!", I arrogantly declared, then asked when I could get back to an active lifestyle. "Listen to your body", he said, then warned, "You're going to be fatigued." HOGWASH, I thought. Fatigued? Me? No way. I'm invincible! I have a baby! I'm so happy! I want to run five miles! Cut take to an hour later and I'm crying uncontrollably. For absolutely no reason at all. It didn't take long for the sleepless nights and the mass hormone exodus to catch up to me. Fatigued? Yes. Thankfully, my mom was here and was an immense help, as was (is) Stephen. And now that we're establishing a routine, I'm learning to adjust. One of the best pieces of advice that I heard pre-baby was (I'm paraphrasing) that there's a reason the safety videos on airplanes instruct parents to secure their oxygen masks first before helping children. So I'm learning the art of the nap. I'm learning to be ok with having a dirty dish in the sink, Ollie's toys on the floor, and laundry that's backing up. I'm learning that taking a twenty minute walk every day does wonders for my sanity. And I'm learning that taking care of myself is essential for taking care of my sweet babe.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

over troubled waters

I really didn't anticipate the problems procrastinating my last name change would create. For a year it really wasn't a big deal. I'd say it wasn't really a deal at all. But then offspring entered the picture and suddenly things like "legality" and "insurance" and "birth certificate" became a big part of our lives, and it was sort of too late to try and make the switch, and then I got the new drivers license and now it looks like I might be a Morley for a while longer, which I guess still isn't really a big deal BUT my insecurities get the better of me and I feel judged and I overcompensate with verbal vomit. Was that run-on sentence confusing? Allow me to show, not tell. Every time we sign in at any given medical facility (a common occurance as of late), they ask my name, my husband's name, and Ivy's name, and after I shamefully say "Morley, Walter, Walter"  I then try and make my ring and band visible, and start in on my well rehearsed "yeah, we've been married for two years and I still haven't changed my name, silly me, I just can't seem to get around to it, yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah, defending my honor, etc." As if the receptionist at hospital registration cares about wedlock.

Ivy jumped from 6 pounds 12 ounces to 7 pounds 7 ounces in one week. FINALLY, another member of the Walter home who really knows how to eat. Stephen knows how to nibble. I know how to put. it. away. And apparently so does Ivy, as evidenced by her new cheeks:

Monday, February 6, 2012

my eyebrows

During our hospital stay we became well acquainted with many different nurses. We liked some, disliked others, and totally loved one. Amy the night nurse was such a kick in the pants.  Amy hates computers. Unfortunately for Amy, everything the nurses do must be entered in the computer. So every time she tried to give me medicine, or check Ivy's vitals, we'd watch her try and scan our wrist bands, which never worked, then she'd say "Ah, dammit!", then reboot the computer, try to scan the wrist bands again, say "Dammit!" when that failed, then finally scan one more time, and for some reason it would work. This happened every time.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

back now

I've read new mom blogs before, and thought to myself "Wow, your baby can yawn. Big whoop. Call me when he's juggling." I've been SO BORED reading about tummy time and baby baths. But what I failed to realize is how remarkable tummy time and baby baths are when it's your baby. Burps have never been so fascinating. So please forgive me if I treat the small baby stuff as though they are major world events. They're the new major events in my world.
Speaking of....
Ivy pulls faces. Technically involuntarily, but I can't help but project. Like after a sloppy swaddle or poorly changed diaper, she'll look at me, very concerned, like this:

As if to say, "I'm not entirely convinced that you know what you're doing."
And then sometimes she just gets goofy:

Thursday, February 2, 2012

by all accounts

Baby Ivy is one week old today.

That's not a finger in the bottom corner, it's a toy. I swear.

That was probably the quickest week of my life. Also the most emotional. Seriously. I saw a statue of a dog and I started crying. Hormones anyone? But teary moments aside, it's been the most incredible seven days. Babies grow fast. Ivy has transformed from monkey-limbed baby to having not one, but TWO rolls on each thigh. She also sticks her tongue out when i stick my tongue out at her. And she now stays awake for more than fifteen minutes every day. Not much more, but whatever.
Is this a mommy blog now? Can you blog about you children and not be a mommy blogger?