Homecoming

Delta comes in early, we warned everyone, so we'd want to be there early too. By the time we arrived, there were already lots of posters and balloons. Kaylie, Derek, and Kiana had made a sign too and were already there waiting for us.

After my parents found a parking spot and joined us, we claimed a spot up against the belt barriers put in place to control the throngs of expectant family members.

"There were 14 other sisters who went to Atlanta the same day as Jennie," my mom said. "And I imagine a lot of them are coming home to Utah." That explained the crowds and the kind man offering to email us a video of the homecoming, explaining that he had hired a videographer and was willing to share footage. (I have to admit . . . most of us were skeptical of his generous offer initially because it seemed like a pretty good money-making scheme to hang out at the airport on Wednesdays and Thursdays to sell parents videos of missionaries on escalators. But he was sincere and not in it for the money, it turned out.)

Before too long, Leslie showed up as well. "Oh, were we supposed to dress up funny for her?" she asked. No, it was just tacky Thursday at the high school, and in our rush to beat Jennie to the airport there hadn't been time for him to change into different clothes. And now he didn't want to.

Not shown: tacky shorts, neon orange knee socks, and sandals. We decided the orange had to stay because of UGA.

And then . . . we waited! We and all the other families with posters and balloons and cameras watched with bated breath, pressed up against the belt barriers. Every few seconds we would dare to see if my grandparents had shown up yet, but then our eyes were back at the escalator.

Finally, someone shouted, "They're starting to come!" Of course, the "they" wasn't the missionaries yet, but we cheered all the same. There was a mom with a baby and a little girl, and they all smiled and waved at us, basking in the jubilation. In fact, they went back up the escalator and down again just to be part of the cheering.

Then the next set of people started to come. These people looked well groomed and Park City bound, ski gear on their backs and coffee cups in their hands.

"They must be here for Sundance," my mom said. "Welcome to Utah!" she said genially to all of them, who looked perplexed at the hubbub. They had people waiting for them too, though none of their signs were quite as colorful as ours.

And then . . . it was the missionaries! I had already figured I would cry when we saw them -- after all, I had teared up that morning while watching Cinderella with Joseph at the part where the mice had started throwing rice at the wedding. In actuality, I think we were all able to keep our emotions in check, thanks in part to the commentary we provided the whole time.

"Okay, that missionary cannot find his family. That is really sad."
"Mom, stop saying hi to everybody! Mormon people don't need to be welcomed to Utah."
"That guy wasn't Mormon. He was holding a coffee cup."
"Where is Jennie?"
"Probably in the bathroom. Or teaching a discussion."
"Should we find a song to sing when she comes? Like, 'Here we are together' or 'We're all in this together'?"
"She's still not here! Probably using the bathroom again."
"That guy must be a big deal. All these people wanted his autograph."
"Oh good, that missionary found his family after all."
"Look, that security guard made the mom go back behind the belt barrier."
"Man, another blond girl that's not Jennie. When is she going to come?"

Finally, after watching most of the rest of the plane empty out, we suddenly spotted her.

"Jennie Jennie Jennie! Sister MOooooooooooooon!!!" we all started to yell. She seemed to glance at us and then look away.

"Oh she's embarrassed by us, she's not looking." (I think the videographer was pointing the camera at us at this point . . . probably this footage can be deleted.) Eventually she noticed us again, and we had her come under the belt barrier to hug us all

"We're all together again, we're here we're here," Kiana sang, and we laughed instead of cried. (except maybe my dad)

After that, it was all hugs and smiles and photos until most everyone else was gone.

Wrong camera

And just like that, after more than two years of us not being together, it was like she had never been gone.

Does your kid do this too?

1. Any time there is any sort of music on the computer, Joseph wants to see it. He wants the tab or window open to watch the screen where the music is playing. He also asks "where are the sounds?" whenever a story refers to sounds in the same sentence as things you can see.

2. He does not eat vegetables as a rule, carrots included. However, every time he watches Daniel Tiger's "Be a Vegetable Taster" he insists on eating carrots. Today he ate at least 10 baby carrots before I lost count.

3. If he is in his crib and wakes up, he wants breakfast. This can be at 7:30 am, 4 pm, or 9 pm. Not snacks. Just breakfast.

Toddlers are so funny.

Betsy Tacy

The past few weeks, I've found myself rereading the Bety-Tacy books with a passion. I only own the first four in Michigan, but when I went home last week (more on that later), I picked up where I had left off and kept on reading til I made it through the last one.

The first time I was introduced to these books was probably when I was about 5, which is how old Betsy is in the first book. (Subsequent books follow her through the rest of childhood, high school, and even through the first three years of marriage.) As I got older, I'd get the occasional Betsy-Tacy book for Christmas or birthdays until I had the whole collection. Although I didn't really appreciate some of the later books when I was younger, I was old enough for this reading to have been every age written about and could identify with her better overall.

For that matter, I've always identified with Betsy probably more than any other literary character ever -- she was the second daughter, had straight brown hair, front teeth with a gap in the middle, a musical family, a story-writing hobby, a mild obsession with boys, and even a late April birthday in the early 90s (albeit 1890's). The fact that these books are more autobiographical than not makes them even more charming, and I found myself thoroughly engrossed in Betsy's (aka Maud's) life, reporting on it to anyone in earshot.

As I read, one of the strongest feelings I felt was longing, particularly in the high school books. Her life seemed so ideal! By the end of the books, I had made a list of things I was a little jealous of, either in her own life or just as part of their culture.

• Dressmakers. People came to your house and made clothes that fit you! And they were always classy.
• For that matter, they wore dresses! (I know I'm sitting here writing this in jeans that I am grateful for, but I still love dresses.)
• The lack of makeup. In all books set in this time, it seems like the only person who ever wore makeup was Lillian Russell, whoever that was. And that just seems easier.
• Housekeepers. And cooks.
• The walkability of the town. Right from the first book, the girls seem to be able to walk anywhere they want (with some boundaries that change as they get older). If you have to drive your kids everywhere, it's much harder to avoid helicopter parenting.
• The way Betsy's friends (male and female) would come to her house all the time before and after school and on weekends. This was more a function of how close she lived to the high school than an early 1900s thing, but I remember longing for that sort of feeling at my house when I was in high school (a hard thing to achieve when the high school is 15 minutes one way and most of your friends live 20 minutes the other way).
• The lack of awkwardness about dating. Granted, there is a lot in the high school books about Betsy's dating life, but I felt like it was a much more relaxed atmosphere than I remembered. It just seemed like boys and girls could be friends and date each other without huge implications, and even if they started dating seriously it still didn't mean a whole lot (not much kissing, for example).
• The way they (Betsy and friends) would stand around the piano and sing . . . and that was their idea of fun! I can count on one hand the number of times I have managed to make that happen, and can count on one hand with all fingers amputated the number of times it hasn't felt awkward.
• The lack of ultimate frisbee. (It's not the worst thing ever, but I'd definitely say wearing dresses and singing around the piano is much more my idea of fun than dropping frisbees.)
• All the letters! She was writing and receiving letters all the time! I guess we have texting now, but letters are more satisfying.
• The lack of stigmas against any sort of life choice for the girls. One friend meets a guy 9 years older than her and gets married young. Great! One friend is happy with her advertising job and won't settle down til she finds someone who respects her. Awesome! Betsy herself turns down a job as a newlywed simply because she feels like learning to keep house is a full time job for her. No problem! All this before women even have the right to vote.
• The way her husband made $150 a month and rent was $30 a month. They were still probably pretty poor, but I think a 5:1 ratio of income to rent sounds amazing.

Of course, there was plenty about that time that I didn't envy. 

• The pompadours. I like the occasional fancy up-do, but I'm glad that leaving my hair down is a socially acceptable option now.
• The smoking. I am pretty sure the smell of smoke was everywhere back then. Betsy made it a game of reforming her guy friends and hanging their pipes on the wall, but as soon as they became adults they probably started it up again. Yuck.
• Death and sickness. Facebook has this funny way of surrounding me in all sorts of tragedy, both of people I know and people whose stories make it into news media, but I'd say that it still doesn't hit my immediate circle the way it seemed to hit Betsy's life. Tacy's baby sister dies in the first book, and there's not a whole lot of reprieve, especially as they get older.
• For that matter . . . at the end of her junior year, her friend's dad dies, and he has to drop out of high school to support the family. That is his only option! I cannot comprehend it! What a world.
• Mustaches. Way worse than beards.
• Having to dress up any time you stepped outside.
• Having to iron so much.
• The lack of modern appliances. I mean, they're not mentioned much in the books, because you don't know what you're missing until you own it, but I probably would not like Minnesota much in the summer without some sort of air conditioning.

And so on. As I've sat the past few days ruminating on the books, I've come to realize that a lot of what I envy is simply not possible now. I just don't have the inclination to dress like a woman in 1910, romantic as it sounds. I probably won't live in a town compact enough to let my kids walk everywhere or count on their friends naturally congregating at our home. I can't make the world realize that dating in 1915 sounds more fun than dating in 2015.

But as I read, that feeling of longing I mentioned was also a feeling of excitement. There are a lot of great things in those books that can be part of any family culture, and these books provided a pretty good blueprint on how to start them from the get-go. Time and time again, Betsy's friends would remark that her parents got along better than anyone they knew, that her family was one of the happiest they had ever seen, and that they felt so welcome there no matter their background. Although us Moons may be quieter people than the fictional Rays (or not-so-fictional Harts), there's still a lot we can do to make our home just as happy and generous as theirs.

Plus, we'll probably have air conditioning.

A San Diego Christmas, Part 4

Hey, we've finally made it to Christmas! We didn't really do too much that was Christmasy on Christmas since we had done that the night before. Instead, we went to the zoo!

And took a lot of pictures.

On a tour bus. It was a huge, sprawling zoo (at least compared to Toledo), so it was nice to see a lot of it without having to walk.

Leopard. I think.

Elephants.

Camel.

Human.

Colorful bird.

Back of a red panda.

Other panda.

We hurried back to the hotel to get the chance to talk to Sister Jennie for the last time on her mission (next time will be  in person Thursday!!!), and probably took a nap. Because I did that a lot.

The next day was another unscheduled day, so we decided to check out Balboa Park and the beach again.

It was also Boxing Day.

Sunshine!

Let me tell you, seeing roses in December is so good for the soul.

The temperature was about 59, the water temperature was about 49, and it was windy . . . so covering up in sand was the best way to spend an hour at the beach.

After one last wonderful evening together, it was time to pack up so we could make our flight the next morning. Although I spent a little bit of the morning dry heaving, I was relieved that I made it the whole flight without throwing up. Honestly, this was a legitimate concern for me, as the last thing I wanted to happen was to be monitored for ebola or something like that (which was a thing that really happened to some passengers who had flown in the past few months). We got back to Michigan, got a ride home (thanks Jon!), and tried to get back into the flow of regular, structured life.

We're still working on it.

For the First Time in Forever

November 9th was a really good day. I had spent the last few days just feeling . . . funny. In a good way, but I felt very strange. Early that morning, after tossing and turning all night, my curiosity got the better of me and I took a pregnancy test even though it was pretty early to find out. I grinned as I saw that it came back positive, actually quite positive. I hurried back to our bedroom, woke Kevin up to tell him, and then let him go back to sleep. Before church had even begun, I started sharing the good news with friends, not even caring that people could overhear me. Once I was home, I shared the good news with my family in as gimmicky ways as I could think of off the top of my head.

By the afternoon, the euphoria had started to wear off, and reality set in. "You're sure sighing a lot," Kevin remarked. "Everything okay?"

I went to him and we hugged. "What's going to make this any different from all the other times?" I sobbed.

§

Fun fact: I spent 50% of 2014 pregnant.

Not so fun fact: I spent 50% of 2014 not pregnant.

The year had started off auspiciously enough, I suppose. After months of trying (complete with an unconfirmed but very possible chemical pregnancy), I finally started the new year off right with a positive pregnancy test, and I spent the rest of January exhausted, if not particularly sick. But by the end of January, I had started bleeding, and I learned that the baby had stopped growing the same day I had taken the positive pregnancy test.

Although it was disappointing, I handled it pretty well for the most part after the first week. I sat out a baby shower or two, tried to avoid conversations about due dates and birth stories, and did all I could to appreciate the nice weather on Mother's Day instead of focusing on yet another disappointing month without a pregnancy. (I don't remember succeeding at any of these, but at least I tried.)

In early June, I again found out I was pregnant, and this time I even had a bit of mild morning sickness! It was one of the most fun months of my life, even if I was napping for a bit more of it than I would have preferred. I also chose this time to keep the pregnancy a secret from everyone except Kevin, to the point that I didn't even let my sister know I felt queasy when I visited her at 8 weeks along while Kevin was in Hawaii. Once he came back, the next day and a half were a glorious blur of walks, bike rides, and sheer excitement.

Then Monday morning came. After discovering that, thankfully, the baby was exactly 9 weeks along, just as it was supposed to be, the doctor and I discovered that for some reason, the baby had no heartbeat. Despite this prognosis, I spent the next two days absolutely convinced that the baby was still alive, that the blood was flowing to the baby again and that the heartbeat had come back. Unfortunately, at my follow-up appointment on Wednesday, I found out that no miracles had occurred; I had become a walking graveyard.

I spent the rest of the summer and fall happy enough that I could hide my grief, but sometimes I would find myself consumed by it far more than with the first miscarriage. Friends upon friends started announcing pregnancies. Friends started having babies the same time I would have been due with the first. Friends started finding out the sex of their babies due the same time I would have found out mine. Meanwhile, I was starting to try again, tracking everything, religiously examining the results of all my blood work, studying up on my prescriptions, and even learning that one pill I was taking was actually acting as birth control.

It was rough. But eventually it all ended up okay.

§

The day after I found out I was pregnant, I called my doctor's office to start scheduling appointments. I mentioned my prior conditions and asked if there would be any useful lab work based on that. My question got filed away in the "totally forgotten" category, and I spent the next week crying to Joseph that "No one seems to take things seriously that I care a lot about." "Oh, okay, Mommy." (It didn't help that I was taking on more and more of the heavy lifting for the Christmas concert/creche and that we were planning to move that Saturday.)

But luckily, by the end of the week, after a few more phone calls back and forth with the doctor's office to clarify their comments, I finally actually got to speak to my doctor. She confirmed that a baby aspirin a day would be enough to help with the genetic clotting disorder they had discovered with the blood work (I had suspected that lack of blood flow had been more of a cause of the second miscarriage than any sort of chromosomal problem), and that no other prescriptions were necessary. Huge sigh of relief.

To be honest, this still was the most physically and emotionally exhausting pregnancy I've ever had. The morning sickness was never severe, but it came early, and it wiped me out. Additionally, I spent my days asleep on the couch, the floor, or on the piles of laundry I was intending to fold. Each cramp, each pull and tug I felt in my abdomen sent me into a little bit of a panic, since I had felt those right before miscarrying in July. I would think of the activities I did right before that miscarriage -- carrying Joseph throughout Chicago, moderate exercise, eating this food or that -- and each time I did them I had a little twinge of worry. Little wonder, then, that things like the Back to the Future soundtrack or the opening sequence to Johnny Lingo (still not sure what drove us to watch that) would get me tearing up. 

Perhaps the hardest week was when Kevin was in Montreal. I was torn between being grateful for my nausea -- it meant, at least, that I was still pregnant -- but it also meant I was scarcely functional, and nausea hadn't necessarily been the litmus test for viable pregnancy it was supposed to have been the last time. (Although, I do have to say, throwing up an entire sweet potato onto Joseph's coat while video chatting with Kevin was reassuring, and gross.) I had to remind myself that just because Kevin had been gone while I was 8 weeks pregnant and I had an appointment at 9 weeks pregnant that had gone disastrously last time didn't mean that him being gone while I was 8 weeks pregnant this time with an appointment at 9 weeks pregnant this time would have the same result.

But even so, once he was back in town, I made sure he was at that appointment with me for emotional support. No small talk this time; my doctor just went straight to the ultrasound and discovered a cute little thing in there with a heartbeat. She printed off such a fuzzy image that it looked more like a caterpillar than not, but caterpillars are cool too. Joseph started swatting at the picture immediately, so I think they're off to a healthy sibling rivalry start.

I considered scanning in the actual picture, but this was just as fast. And frankly, just as informative.

§

After that appointment, things got better. I stopped being so anxious about things like zumba or carrying Joseph (good thing, too . . . he had started throwing my words back at me with complaints like, "My tummy hurts. I need you to carry me"). The nausea gradually tapered off, though it flares up every now and then. There were even some days where I had the same energy levels that I'm normally used to.

Today, I had my 13 week appointment. Although I knew to keep my expectations manageable, I didn't feel afraid. After a minute of hunting, the nurse practitioner discovered a healthy heartbeat. 

And that was that. For the first time in forever, I had made it to the second trimester. I know I'm not entirely out of the woods yet, but to have finally, finally come this far . . .

For the first time in forever, at least I've got a chance.

A San Diego Christmas, Part 3

The next few days were full of lots and lots and lots of animals!

Monday: We went to Sea World! All that I remembered from Sea World back when I went when I was 5 was from a picture that was part of my kindergarten letter book. For the letter 'S,' my mom included a picture with the caption "sleepy sad sisters at Sea World. Stroller. Shamu." I meant to replicate that picture while I was there, but this was the closest I got:

Sleepy sad son at Sea World. Stroller. Sidewalk.

It was pretty fun overall. The dolphins were charming, the seals were silly, the flamingos were pink and loud, the penguins were cute and smelly, and of course, Joseph was happiest when he was on a ride of some kind.

The next day, we went up to Escondido for the Safari Park. 

Baby gorilla.

Lion on a jeep. Just cuz.

On our safari ride. We took lots of pictures of far-off giraffes and deer-like animals, but I think you'll be okay without them.

The condors were cool.

As with the other days, Kevin and I left before the rest of the family so Joseph could have some semblance of a nap. And so we could go swimming for a little bit before the sun went down.

Wednesday . . . relaxed day! Laundry, swimming, chatting, and hanging out at an overcast beach watching seagulls swarm empty bags hoping for food. After dinner at a nearby grotto, we had a nice Christmas Eve together and opened presents then. (And I didn't take any pictures all day.)

I think I'll save the last two days for one last blog post. Just to keep you all hanging in suspense.

A San Diego Christmas, part 2

Let's see, where was I? Torrey Pines! The rest of the family hadn't even shown up yet!

Don't worry. The rest of the days didn't have that many pictures, so I can go faster.

We still had a little time to kill before Kevin's family got there, so we decided to go swimming at the hotel using a guest pass. But they were closer than we thought they were, so in the time it took us to pull our swim stuff out of our suitcases, they showed up! So we unpacked instead, dipped our feet in the water a little bit, and then drove for about 5 minutes (mainly left turns) to dinner only to discover it would have been a 30 second walk. Live and learn, I guess. I have no memories after 8:30 that day, so I think I fell asleep pretty soon after dinner.

The next day we woke up bright and early at 5 for Legoland! Not that we went then, of course. Just that we were awake then. And had 4 hours to kill until everyone else was ready. This probably would have been easier if Daniel Tiger had worked on public television. (As a side note, we are really having trouble watching Daniel Tiger these days. Online it has trouble with buffering. DVDs from the library are scratched. And I guess on nice big screen TVs in hotels it still is strangely choppy. Oh well.)

Anyway, Legoland! It was really cute. Joseph was really into the rides, which was a little bit of a surprise.

Most everything there was made out of Legos. Of course.

His first ride. He approved wholeheartedly.

Part of the fairy tale boat ride.

We weren't expecting him to like this one, but he laughed the whole time.

By this point, it was like 2:30 and he had had no nap. So don't let that smile deceive you.

It took like 1 minute for this to happen, at least once the fruit snacks were gone.

So, lots of rides, lots of legos, lots of fruit snacks. (And even though I didn't take many pictures of the lego structures, they were cool too!) After dinner that night, I think I managed to stay up until about 9 pm.

Sunday morning, we went to church, discovered at least two connections there (some friends from Inca Villa, my friend's older sister, and possibly someone I knew from the Math Lab), enjoyed being in the audience for a Christmas program, stayed with Joseph in the nursery until he got mad about something (that's when we both left), went back to the hotel, ate bagels, took naps, and then headed to the beach.

Just as we didn't expect Joseph to like rides very much, we expected him to love the water. But I guess the fact that it moved made him nervous, because after about fifteen seconds of standing in the water he was Done. And he wanted the rest of us to be Done, too.

Next stop, Mormon Battalion! It was really fun and educational and even now back in Michigan I've still been looking more stuff up online and in books we own, which is a good sign.

 It was also cool learning about the Mormons who went up to San Francisco and worked at Sutter's Mill.

I don't know how they stay afloat with all this gold they give away.

A quick drive home, another early bedtime, and we were ready for the next day of adventures!