What 26 meant

One year ago today, I woke up 26 and pregnant. Technically, of course, I was pregnant while 25, but not consciously so. After staring at that plus sign for several unbelieving minutes and informing one unbelieving Josh (though this baby was not unplanned), we went for breakfast at IHOP.

The world looked magical. I felt no different than the day before--the weeks of slight nausea and major fatigue were still impending--but I saw differently. The baby at the next table was transformed from a cute smile to a wonderful potentiality. I was already in love.

I carried this sweet secret with me during the party that night, though I felt like I'd swallowed a ray of light that would shine forth upon every opening of my eyes and mouth. It seemed so obvious that this miracle was inside of me.

And so the year continued. I experienced slight physical discomforts and not so slight anxieties. But mostly the feeling grew in exponential relationship to my swelling belly. What began as "The Pinhead" became our Meishka.

Then that day that threatened to exist in anticipation forever arrived--and arrived early, along with our darling Zoë. And with her the feeling grew some more.

Now four months of being a family of three feels at once like a lifetime (what was life like without her?) and a flash (where did that newborn go?).

So for me, 26 meant motherhood. And it's made this 27th birthday the first one in which I thanked my mom for having me and halfway understood what doing so may have meant for her.

Blessèd

On August 10, we blessed Zoë Talei. We waited longer than is perhaps traditional to make sure that Josh's beloved grandpa could be in the circle. His heart is fine, so ours are too.



In addition to one new father and dear friends, fathers of many years--uncles, grandpas, and great-grandpas--circled hands on each other and under Zoë.



She was held in this circle of strength and love and given a beautiful blessing by her Daddy. And she slept through the whole thing (a blessing in itself), aided by dozens of rhythmic hands.



Nearly 27 years ago, I was blessed by my father in the same chapel (Provo's first).


I felt the heft of history, tradition, and family behind me on this day.



As well as the newness of the relationship between father and tiny daughter.



And lots of love all around.



Zoë in a dress that she can pass on when she's grown.



(But still drool on in the meantime.)



And in shoes Grandma Jane was blessed in.



It feels good to be blessed (and blessèd).

Balloons for Nie (or bloggers in the flesh)

If you've ever explored blogland--especially that ever expanding corner inhabited by Mormon Mommies--you've undoubtedly come across Nie Nie's (a.k.a. Stephanie Nielson's) blog and her sister's blog C Jane Enjoy It. I was addicted to both as soon as I stumbled upon them, before figuring out that Josh knows various members of their family in "real life." The Nie Nie Dialogues is brimming with visual delight, style, and simple joy in what makes life beautiful--and for Nie, that's her husband and four children. C Jane Enjoy It offers funny, down-to-earth, gloriously detailed accounts of "Cjane"'s daily life.

So it was with shock and deep sadness that I read last weekend about Stephanie's and her husband, Christian's, plane crash. You can read more about it on Cjane's blog, but the short version is that the private plane they were in stalled shortly after take-off and crashed into a wood pile. The instructor with them (Christian was taking flying lessons) passed away soon after the crash, and Stephanie and Christian remain in critical condition with extensive burns. Their recovery will take months.

My heart has ached for this family--for all the families involved--this week. It's amazing the things you can feel for people you've never met. And in the process I've realized that what many criticize as the impersonal nature of communication in the electronic age is not always so impersonal. In fact, blogging has transformed what could have been just another 30 second news story into a tragedy the weight of which I feel in my very flesh.

The extent to which it has done the same for others was demonstrated this Saturday, when not just family and friends but many "blog friends" gathered to release balloons carrying hopes and well-wishes in Stephanie and Christian's honor (following one of their family traditions). Such releases happened all over the country.


And fittingly, I even met (for the first time in the flesh) my blog friend Danielle. Her sweet baby, Avery, was born just a day before Zoë and I can so relate to where she is in life right now. I loved seeing our babies together and planning time for them to play in the future.

Speaking of Danielle, she wrote a post the other day on a similar subject in much more beautiful words. Read it here.

See CJane's blog for ways you can help the Nielson's and go here to see a video Josh filmed of the balloon release.

Baby's first movie premiere

Zoë attended her first movie premiere on Wednesday. Once she stopped crying, it was a ball. The audience reaction to the film was great and it is always fun to see Josh's work on the big screen. Afterward, we hung out on the red carpet and talked to friends while the director and actors were interviewed by the press and signed posters for fans. A few geeky film buffs even wanted Josh to sign their posters too.

The premiere was for The Errand of Angels, the film that Josh shot in Austria last summer with his friend Christian Vuissa. It is an LDS-themed film, but it's actually quite good. It is the first ever sister missionary movie, and really, one of the first LDS-themed films with a strong central female character.

Slower paced and more contemplative than most LDS films, the realizations made throughout the course of the film are small, but realistic. The acting is soulful, with standout performances by Rachel Emmers (States of Grace), Bettina Schwarz (a native Austrian), and Erin Chambers (CSI: NY), who also happens to be my one-time college roommate. And the film is gorgeous. The stunning cinematography captures the beauty of the Austrian landscape and the quality of Josh's work on sets, wardrobe, and props.


It's not Citizen Kane, but we would recommend this film to anyone that enjoys character or relationship-driven films. While you probably have to be LDS to enjoy this movie, you don't necessarily have to be a former missionary or a woman to enjoy it, although that helps. The movie is playing in Salt Lake Valley at Salt Lake City 16, Holladay Center 6, Jordan Commons 16 (also in IMAX), Carike 12, Cinemark 24, HW Connection 15, and the Sandy Megaplex 20 at the District. It is playing Utah Valley at the Scera in Orem and the Wynsonng in Provo. It is also playing Idaho in Boise, Pocatello, Idaho Falls, and Rexburg, and a bunch of other locations throughout Utah, Nevada, and Arizona.

Opening weekends are very important for movies. They determine how much longer the movie will play in theaters. If it doesn't do well on opening weekend, the theater doesn't book it for the weeks to come. If you are not totally down on the prospects of LDS cinema, please go see this movie. If you've ever seen a movie like Saints and Soldiers, States of Grace, The Other Side of Heaven, or The Best Two Years and thought it was decent, this is at least as good as all of those. Zoë, however, may not agree. She didn't seem too impressed by the whole premiere thing.

She wasn't impressed by Heather Beers.

She wasn't even impressed by the star of the film.

But we still had a good time at the premiere and are going out to the movies again tonight. We're not going to watch The Errand of Angels again, but we are buying tickets to the film and just going to something else. We really want this film to do well, not just because Josh worked on it, but because we want to support the few quality films that exist in this genre. Hopefully, this will be the start of something good.
As you can see, Christian is really excited about the whole thing. If you've missed the barrage of commercials for the film during the Olympics, you can watch the trailer at the movie's official website. Oh, and if you go to the film, be sure to watch for Josh's name in the opening credits. He's in there three times! Also, I was given a "Props Assistant" credit in the closing credits for the work I did from home, helping Josh out when some Austrian kids stole all of the missionary tags on the first day of shooting. Many of our family members are also in the Special Thanks portion of the closing credits. Stick around and look for your name.

Four months old

I am a big fourth-month-old now!


Here are some things you should know about me:

I still enjoy sticking my tongue out (of course).


I love pulling Mama's hair! There is something about those unkempt tresses that feels so good in my fat little hand.


I tried out a new sling position--and promptly fell asleep.


Don't I look sophisticated?


I am full of smiles and giggles in the morning.


I keep cool--in an ambient and psychedelic way--while drooling.


I LOVE staring at my mobile. It's fascinating and often funny.


These are my favorite books that Mommy and Daddy read to me. I like looking at the colors and touching them. My Look and Feel book is from Mommy's coworker in Australia, so it has cool animals in it like echidnas that Daddy can't pronounce (Mommy looked it up in the dictionary).

I debuted my first pair of leopard shoes--they won't be my last!


I love my Alex friend, though I'm pretending to ignore her in this picture. She makes my happy when I'm crying.


I still have long toes . . .


. . . and blue eyes (though Mommy and Daddy think they're going to turn brown).


My hand: thinking about it, it rises, and it--wait, the other one--made it! Four months old today and engaging in my new favorite activity. (Aren't hand delicious, even if they can be confusing?)

Mommy has a few things to add.

Zoë is huge all of the sudden! She seems like a different baby now. Her hair is getting increasingly fuzzy on top—and still has that mysterious red tint. This month she started getting very interested in the world around her, whether it’s outside, decorations in her room, books, toys, or us. She laughed a lot for the first time (and repeatedly) when I dropped a stuffed animal on her from above. We haven't been able to replicate that laugh yet though.

Zoë’s tricks: Holding up her head up, though it’s still pretty wobbly; your neck would get tired too if it had to support this big head! Sucking on both hands simultaneously and extremely loudly. Lifting her head—and often her entire body while balancing on her stomach—during tummy time. Less cooing and more squealing. Grabbing things and keeping toys next to her with her feet.

Zoë likes: Looking around and smiling up at Mommy while she’s eating. Having her leg and wrist rolls “buttered and eaten.” Drooling (a result of all the hand sucking). Having books read to her. Going to bed early. Being swaddled and shush’d. Saying “ang” and snorting when mad. Mommy’s songs and rhymes. Swinging and “punching” toys in her baby gym. Her butterfly toy and pink pig. Getting raspberries on her tummy and neck (she's starting to smile at that).

Zoë doesn't like: Getting startled (it happens really randomly now, sometimes just by getting too close to her face too fast), being tired, the faces of anyone besides Mommy and Daddy—don’t take it personally!

Ticketed and coveted

First of all, let me just say that if you ever decide to use frequent flier miles to buy a spring/summer ticket to Europe, you better do it 331 days in advance--don't wait 10 days past that deadline, like I did. After much frantic internet searching and a good hour on the phone with Delta yesterday and another one today, I finally have flights for me, Josh, and Zoë to Spain next year. (Well, we're actually flying in to Barcelona and out of Frankfurt because we're doing some video/photo work for my job in a few other European countries after staying with my parents while they're on study abroad for a couple months.)

But anyway.

I have spoken with three female Delta booking agents in the last two days. The first was incompetent, cold, and incompetent. The second was nice but very professional. The third was--well, here's how it went . . .

Me: I'm calling to check on a flight that the agent had a hard time booking yesterday. There should be an adult ticket and an infant ticket, actually.

Booking Agent 3 (BA3): I'm showing that it's not yet purchased. Let me check the reservation screen.

Zoë: Grunt.

BA3: Oh [smile in voice]. How old is she?

Me: Four months today.

BA3: Okay, I'm showing a reservation for you departing April 21 on flight number . . .

Zoë: Grunt. Gurgle.

BA3: Ohhhhh! I remember those days. It almost makes me cry [in a happy, nostalgic way].

Me: How many kids do you have?

BA3: Four, but they're all grown up. The oldest is 32.

Me: Do you have any grandkids?

BA3: No!!! None of my kids want to have children. They're all so selfish. I can't stand it! Let me put in a seat request for your Air France connection . . . Did she go to sleep? She's been very quiet [disappointed].

Me: No, she just likes looking around outside.

BA3: I'm associating your ticket with your husband's and--ohhhh!--making sure the incorrect one has been canceled.

And so our conversation went, with her alternating between technical flight details and nearly welling up with tears every time Zoë made the slightest noise (and I have to say she wasn't even making particularly cute noises). The whole thing made me realize how much I'm going to miss these days when they're gone. Actually, it made me realize that I have no idea how much I'm going to miss these days when they're gone, but it reminded me to soak in every grunt and gurgle while I can.

Biggest news story of the year (in feet)!

Make sure you watch both of these CNN videos before drawing any conclusions.

Thanks to Clint (via Bill) for the heads up on this story. I am very interested in any updates that people have. I hope that this is some comedy troupe because this will kill my Yeti movie.
My question is, how can this thing look so much like Harry and the Hendersons? That's why I think this fake. It is not logic or science that makes me doubt, but rather, movie make-up. How could Rick Baker (the creature designer for Harry and the Hendersons) possibly have been so right on? Now I'm wondering where he came up with his designs for the new Wolfman movie.

Love your mother

Hello, everyone. This is Josh in a rare He, She, We solo post. I just wanted to share some thoughts with you on saving the planet. Okay, that sounds a little grandiose, but I'm serious. I've been thinking about it a lot lately and feeling really horrible about myself for not doing my part.

You see, in my mind, I'm an environmentalist. In reality, I drive an SUV (you've met). I'm not proud of it. I simply can't afford to buy a new car. Despite all of its problems, Timothy is paid off and he'll be around until he dies. That's just the facts. So, how can I make a positive difference for our planet and offset in some small way the footprints I am making by not being able to afford a Prius?

One thing that I just recently thought of was unsubscribing to junk mail. Every single day we get some coupon mailer and everyday I take that mailer out of the mailbox and directly to the recycling bin. What a waste, right? Not according to the companies sending this crap out. Check out the propaganda on their website:


Awesome! We've got forest to spare?! Can I get mine all in Best Buy ads?! The thing that really galls me is that the notion of decreasing municipal waste by 3% (if you trust their figures) is regarded as insignificant. That is a massive amount of waste! Anyone seen Wall-E? This attitude reminds me of the media hoopla a few weeks ago when Barack Obama suggested that if each American had their tires inflated at the proper level, our national oil consumption would be reduced by 3%. The reaction from the right? Mocking Obama by handing out tire gauges engraved with the words Obama's Energy Plan. Funny to be sure, yet totally infuriating when you think about what they're really doing.

There are so many ways that we can make a difference each day. Turn off the lights. Don't leave the water running. You can pick up a really cool lamp from Ikea with energy saver light bulbs. While you're there, buy a couple of massive blue shopping bags at 59 cents a pop and end your dependency on grocery bags. Me and my SUV, Timothy? Well, I walk almost everywhere I go these days. Rachel and I never got our bikes tuned up this summer, but we'll enjoy them through the fall until it gets too cold.

I realize that this is totally coming off preachy. That's because my environmental act of the day is to energize those around me enough to unsubscribe to their junk mail the way I just did.

We get three coupon packs on a regular basis. The first is Money Mailer and their slogan is It's Like Getting Money In Your Mailbox! Actually it is like getting a big envelope full of crappy coupons you'll never use. If you are interested in undoing some of the harm they've been doing since 1979, just email your address and a short explanation of why you'd like to unsubscribe (I'd suggest mentioning something about loving the planet more than discounted Subway sandwiches) to: jlimon@moneymailer.com

The second mailer I get is the Red Plum package. This has some local deals from places like Comcast that are worse than the deals on their website. Also, you can find out how much meat is at Smith's grocery store. Sweet! These guys make it a little harder to stop the flow. Even though these are local ads, you have to go to the website of the national distributor and fill out this form which will slowly end your mailers in five to six weeks.

The last mailer I get is called Central Utah Quality Buys and is a product of Provo's own Daily Herald. They are the worst. You actually have to call them and it was a pain tracking down the right person to talk to. They wouldn't even give me a direct line or tell me the name of the person in charge. I just left a message with a secretary (who wouldn't give me her name either). Still, it only took a few minutes to unsubscribe once I got her on the line and it will be totally easy for you now that I've done the leg work. It took me longer to type this blog post than it will take you to unsubscribe to all three of these mailers. Just call the super secret office at 801-375-5103 and tell the mystery woman that you think her ads suck. Mailers stop within a week or two.

So, that was my didactic rant for the year. Hope it wasn't too annoying. I'm definitely not a fan of the Blogger community that is into rabid partisanship and telling everyone this-is-this and that-is-that. There is enough divisiveness in the world. I'm just looking at this as community service.

WOOF!

Hey, Rachel! Good morning! Hope you don't mind that I added some vintage Shaggy Dog pictures to your last post. Here's one more from the Shaggy Dog sequel. I think you'd actually prefer this flick to the first because it deals with the ins and outs of American politics--sort of. I have a feeling that Santa will be slipping this into your stocking come Christmas.

Ging-0?

Something disturbing (to me) and funny (to everyone else) happened while we were in CA that I forgot to write about. Before my dad joined us all in CA, he was here finishing up his three summer-term classes for the week. During that time he took my parents' cat, Ginger (remember this story?) to the vet. My mom is always singing praises to the "mighty huntress" that is Ginger. She chases and kills mice, birds, and squirrels. And, as often happens, she had gotten in a skiff with another feline and developed a nasty abscess.

Then this conversation (recreated in part by my dad but mostly by my imagination) happened.

Dad: Hi, I'm calling to see how my cat, Ginger, is doing.

Vet: I've drained the abscess and stitched it all up. He's doing just great. You can pick him up any time.

Dad: Oh, that's great. I'll be right . . . did you say "he"?

Vet: Um, yeah.

Dad: Ginger is a boy?

Vet: That's right, sir. He's hasn't got all of his boy parts anymore, but he's definitely a male cat.

I admit that a vet probably wouldn't use the term "boy parts," but I can't bring myself to write a more technical term, not because I'm squeamish about male anatomy but because I'm squeamish about sex changes. Seven years of thinking of Ginger as a woman only to find out she's--he's--not just weirds me out. But then I have a phobia of things morphing into other things or seeming other than they are, which explains why the old Shaggy Dog movie gave me nightmares as a kid. It also explains why I was fated to marry someone obsessed with werewolves.
Who's to blame for this gender confusion? We're not sure, but Diana claims to have declared Ginger woman first and I guess we all believed her. And we probably shouldn't have because this isn't the first time one of our family pets has been forced to masquerade as a member of the opposite sex. When I was in elementary school, my second-grade teacher requested the services of Sneaker, our "male" guinea pig, to keep company with the class's female pet. (A second-grade teacher wanting to breed guinea pigs in a classroom now strikes me as rather odd, but it was Berkeley.) I was devastated, and rather surprised (after all, this was Berkeley), to find that the two wouldn't mate. In an attempt to solidify her femininity, my mom placed bows in Sneaker's hair periodically for years to come. They didn't help my damaged psyche.

But while Sneaker was a fairly gender-neutral name, Ginger (short for "Gingervere") is not. So now we are left with a problem--what to call a now-male-to-us cat that she (he!) will recognize and we'll remember after 7 years of the name Ginger. "Gingo the male cat" is the current placeholder. Are there others we're overlooking?