Not Quite the Trip I Had in Mind...

A couple of months ago, Scott told me I needed to get the girls out of his hair so he could tackle remodeling the bathroom.

Ahem. Finishing the remodeling that started a year ago. Possibly two. With things like this, it's best for the marriage if I don't really keep track. (For the record, he is even more kind. He never keeps track of how much laundry or cleaning he does. That's how I know I married up.)

So, I pack up the girls and our clothes and a bunch of car snacks and prepare to go see Memaw and Poppa. It's only a 1o or 12 hour drive. And I so have never done anything remotely like this. But whatev.

Just before leaving, Scott asks me to drive him to his work truck, which was parked in Springville. So he hops in the car too, and I figure we'll just say our goodbyes in a couple of miles when I drop him off.

And that's when the coolest thing ever happened. A surprise vacation. That sweet man got a week off work, had made crazy intense arrangements, extra packing, purchased necessary foodstuffs (Larabar, how I love thee) and managed to have absolutely everyone in on the secret. And we were heading down together. To go to Disneyland. Well, and other places. But what else matters? Disneyland is everything.

P.S. Surprise vacations rock.

Waiting for a show at Sea World. Which was totally created by tired parents who just wanted to sit down for 30 minutes and recover.

When we went last February, we found this awesome Indiana Jones hat and decided to pimp it out with ears. I'm crazy about it. So is he. (Scott. Indiana Jones is busy.)

Check out that castle!

Waiting for Small World

All decked out for Halloween!

The girls' hats are simple and matching. No frills. I think it's actually their vintage style circa maybe 1960s? I love seeing them!

Holding his girls. Or at least the little ones.

I think we all know how cute this is.

Betsy feeding the goat.

Avie shows warranted caution about the sheep.

No, not dead. Not even maimed.

Yes, yes, yes. We're still alive. If this blog is pretty much your only source of Shea news, you're in sorry shape. (That is why I own a phone. Blogs are all about time wasting.)

I hardly know where to begin. Scott began his real-life career more than a little while back -- when Avie was just a few weeks old. That's right, he's a real-life transportation engineer! He loves driving his sporty, brand new work truck around, and gets a special thrill as he throws on his emergency lights and drives "off road" to observe construction progress. I can't say I'm thrilled we worked so hard to get a master's degree just so he can wear a steel-toed boots and a hard hat, but he assures me it's a white hard hat. That means he's a white-collar worker, he says. It's a pretty good life for a man's man, and I know more about transportation engineering than I ever thought I'd care to.

He's actually still working at the Home Depot. This means he's spent the last 8 months usually working at least 60 hours a week, and often tops off a little over 70. It's pretty painful, I won't lie. I always knew I married an optimistic man -- someone's got to balance me out, right? -- but I really don't know how he does it. He spent much of the year leaving at 6 am and not arriving home until 10 pm. We get this little half-hour window to throw food at his face before he takes off for the Depot, and he is positively lively. Energetic beyond reason. So, apparently, when I said it was painful, I meant for me.


I really miss adults. In the absence of real conversations with people my height, I've had time to perfect the art of preparing homemade broth, cultured vegetables, and other forays into healthy cooking. Then there's sugar-free living, cloth diapering, and Book of Mormon storytelling. Not so much decluttering, but I keep trying. At any rate, I've cut down on my bon-bon eating considerably.

Avie is getting big. Well, older. Big might not describe her for quite a while yet. She is our delight, and I just don't know how I'll ever cope with her growing up on me. The first year of a child's life is simultaneously the quickest and the slowest of a parent's life, meaning some days do feel really long; some night do feel endless; every month does feel like a blink. She is a dream. She radiates the sweetest smile and giggle and happily shares it with the world. That little soul is the embodiment of contentment, and considering what a tough time we had with her pregnancy, I consider it a special gift from a loving Father in Heaven. Like a small assurance that he took care of her when, for all my efforts, I couldn't.


Betsy is our singer, our reader, our cook, and our singer. She is thoroughly two-and-a-half; always unexpected. Usually, it's a delightful kind of unexpectedness that creeps from her mouth. Sometimes it's an unexpected misery with considerable volume. Some of our most recent surprises include these:

(Betsy) "N-O, N-O, N-O, N-O..."
(Momma) "What are you spelling, honey?
(Betsy) "Daddy."

(Momma) "King Noah did not go to church. He didn't share. He didn't believe in Heavenly Father."
(Betsy) "Him need a time out."

...Well, I'd love to wait and post once I can find pictures on our old computer's hard drive (buried somewhere in the depths of our new computer) but I'm just not that handy. I really do set a new year's goal to write in here more often, and get back in the habit of reading the blogs of those I love so hopefully you'll see more of me on here in the future. Assuming there's anyone left who reads this. (Let me know you're out there, won't you?)

As Told In FB Status Updates

Perhaps I will finish her baby blanket before Avie goes to college. Assuming I ever get a working sewing machine.

Wore long pants on Memorial Day. In Utah. What the heck?!?

Whenever Betsy gets a time-out she now insists on "loves and kisses." I cannot fathom that someday when she's in trouble all she'll want is a quick retort.

Collard Greens: Nobody cooks 'em, 'cause nobody eats 'em.

Avie does NOT need any more blankets or silkies draped over her head. Thank you, Betsy.

Watching the video monitor while Betsy pretends to sleep. Why is she repeatedly telling herself she has a stomachache (a word I've never heard her use) and why is it being said so cheerfully?

Organized Betsy's dresser. Or one drawer thereof. Is that enough to call it a productive day?

Avie will take only one kind of pacifier: the kind we lost. Go us.

Are there any diet plans out there that mandate living off of Cheerios? I could do that.

Singing "The Memaws on the Bus" is getting a little old, yo.

Dinner, make thyself.

How long should baby acne stay around for? And how do I avoid ending this sentence with the word "for" without sounding uppity?

Betsy can now open the bathroom door. Goodbye, privacy.

I liked it better when Betsy's toys were her toys, instead of my cooking, cleaning, sewing, and organizing supplies being her toys.

I heart baby belches.

I think it has finally hit me that Scott has a real job. Too bad it's taken NEVER SEEING HIM to hit the point home.

Betsy just "taco"-ed her baby doll. Man, that was cute.

Betsy and I just watched our first movie together: the old R&H Cinderella with Lesley Ann Warren. She loved it. I loved that she loved it.

Definitively, there is nothing more delightful than the way baby feet stay scrunched in so close to the body.

It doesn't matter how delightful the day has been; bedtime seldom comes too soon.

Having two kids means a bit less time with your spouse than before. But the moments, now scarcer, are more treasured, more intimate, more sacred.

Hmmm. I think Avie is a pacifier baby. I've never had one of those before.

Drumroll please: Gospel Doctrine teachers... for the third time in our marriage.

Scott worked 70 hours this week. Hopefully someone will re-introduce us on his next day off. (Which, I think, is the Sunday after next.)

A Happy Family: Welcome Avielle!

She's here! In all her tiny IUGR glory, our little girl has arrived! Determining her status as a high-risk baby and the ultrasounds, NSTs, prayers, fasts, and eventual induction that followed afterward is probably another post for another day. It can be summed up by saying we assumed she was already an awful lot like her mother -- maybe a bit high maintenance?

Turns out she's just as delightful and easygoing as a babe can be! Although, she's only a week old today, so I could be jumping the gun. Nothing like posting a sentence like that to jinx things, eh?

After endless deliberations, we chose the name Avielle just a few days before her arrival. I can't say why, but this time around it felt very important to have it mean just the right thing. There were names I fell head over heels for, but we just couldn't do it -- the meaning was too dorky. Like Charlotte (a feminine version of Charles, which means "full grown, a man") or Cecelia (a feminine version of Cecil, which means "blind, dim-sighted"). It just wasn't working. We came across Avielle, and I knew the meaning was perfect. It's Hebrew (note the -iel and -el endings all over the OT: Israel, Michael, Ezekiel, Daniel, etc.) and translates as "God is my father."

I'm not crazy about the fact that this name is 100% obscure, but it is who my girl is. It fits. Also in its favor is that it ends -elle, just like mine. That's kind of nice, right? I think so.

Betsy is utterly entranced by her sister. Although it might seem redundant, I wanted to list all the cute little things Betsy has said about Avielle. (And whenever she starts in on one of these, it gets repeated about 10 times before she allows the dialogue to move on.) "I love her. I love that baby Avie!" "I love love you." "Baby Avie is so cute!" "I like you, baby Avie!" "I love my baby Avie's head" She adores giving hugs and kisses and holding Avie, holding her fingers and talking about how tiny they are, can say Avie's full name (Avielle Hope Shea) and is generally her ridiculously cute self.

But the sweetest of all our new-family moments is when Betsy tries to wrap us all up in a giant group hug whilst declaring , "We are a happy family! A happy family!" This is often followed up by a round of repeating"I love us," or "I love you, Momma; I love you Daddy; I love you baby Avie!" or some other sweet little statement of affection. It is precious, and while I'm not naieve enough to think it will be this way every day, I'm optimistic enough to hope they will always cherish each other.

Oh -- and no worries about Avielle's health. She weighed in at 5 lbs. 4 oz. and was an absolute trooper during birthing. Her heart rate never dropped, and she arrived in record time. She was thoroughly examined in the nursery and only given an IV for saline to thin out her red blood cell count. She's putting on weight well, nursing quite nicely, and snuggles up into such a tiny little soul I could happily nap the day away with her on my chest. Apart from her time with the biliblanket at home, nothing would ever clue you in to any complications.

I am so grateful to my midwives, whose incredible care of Avie and me made a difficult situation so much easier. They were patient beyond patient, and truly inspired. I'd also have totally lost it without my doula; okay, maybe I lost it anyway. I am now just trying to figure out how to show them my appreciation. I think chocolate is always applicable in situations like these, don't you?

15 minutes

As I am wont to remind you, this blog really is here for memory. Remembering what this moment in time was like, many trips-round-the-sun later, when it's all hazy with that rosy glow things get after a few years.

Not that things are terribly negative, mind you, but it's the haze that bugs me. I want to remember with clarity, precision. I want to remember so vividly that I feel I could slip back into that old skin and be perfectly at home.

What is there to remember?

• Betsy accidentally locking herself in the bathroom, whining, and declaring, "It's annoying!"
• Same forthright daughter announcing, "It's boring!" half way through every car trip -- and sometimes before she's even buckled in!
• This delicate, sensitive life inside me, gliding and kicking in her own distinct way, preparing all of us for her arrival
• How delightful this spring has been. I thought it would never come.
• The waves of (job-related) hopelessness -- the way they wash in, crash ashore, and then recede. What it feels like to try to put your hope back together afterward, wondering if the actual truth, the truth-of-the-truth lies more in the pessimistic waves or the stories you tell yourself after a good night's rest, and knowing it's best to just not think about it.
• Can't control economy. Can't control Home Depot (current job). Can't control professors. Can control our reactions. That's all.
• Betsy telling us "I'm tiny, too!" when we talk about the upcoming baby sister. This could get interesting.
• Feeling out of place in our student ward, but equally misplaced in our quirky little family ward. Where on earth do I belong? Please, Lord, just let me belong somewhere. In some aspect of my life.
• The way your spouse becomes your total salvation, your total joy and consolation in circumstances like these, how you cling together as never before
• The knowledge that apparently, the world can fall apart. But your marriage won't. Somehow it almost feels worth it, just to know that so assuredly.
• Leaving things on the Lord's plate simply because mine is too full
• Incessant anxiety about if I've done everything I should to grow a healthy baby, and how she already perceives this world to be, and if she forgives me for being the stressball I am, because I know it wreaks havoc on her sometimes
• Knowing answers will come, but not for many more months perhaps. Knowing you and your spouse might not see quite eye-to-eye until the Lord finally gives his input on important decisions that aren't to be made for a while yet
• Wondering what it means when everything lines up perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect... and then the world sends you free-falling. Did we misread the signs? How does 1+1+1+1=0?
  
• Betsy getting so big she often insists on "reading" books to herself now, and how it thrills and devastates me all in the same breath
• The continual name hunt, searching for a perfect fit for our tiny "baby sissah"
• Betsy singing so many new, fun songs to herself! She had the first verse of "Five Little Monkeys" down pat after just a night with Aunt Michele!
• Sending Betsy to timeout on an almost-daily basis, but always going in to find her pointing to Jesus. Then she talks with me about him, ending with, "I happy."

On second thought, I'm not sure I'd want to slip back into this little pocket of time, years from now. It kinda bites sometimes. But I'd happily slip back in for select moments -- moments of pure tenderness with my spouse, and thrilling two-year-old bliss with the sweetest wonder-toddler I know.

The Month Called November

Well, the house is decorated for Christmas. This year I even let Scott do it before Thanksgiving -- quite a concession, but it came about so easily and naturally you never would have known it. And it happened so quickly! I went out to run some errand and voila! I returned to the most charming little home. ...We are very lucky to have the home we do; it suits our needs so well and is beyond economical. But it's no use pretending: I do complain about its looks more than I should.

But at Christmastime! Oh, there is something so endearing about how it looks at Christmastime, all glowy and cheery, that I fall in love with the place again. That's no small feat, as we continue to accumulate stuff and it has been feeling increasingly cramped of late. (Redoing the bathrooom did nothing to help the congestion, either. Four tubs -- FOUR TUBS -- of toiletry junk littering my bedroom. Betsy spent hours a day exploring the world of my tampons and Scott's contacts. Oh, am I glad the worst of that job is over!)

Thanksgiving was a quiet affair, low-key but still delicious. We all fit around a single table, and while that table was crowded, Kate was right: quite anticlimactic. (Are you allowed to say that about Thanksgiving? It feels so wrong.) I guess having Marcus away on his mission and Tanner with his dad really made the group even more subdued. I'd easily say those are the two most animated of the clan.

This year cream cheese had gone on sale a few weeks prior to the holiday, so each of my three desserts had cream cheese. And it's the sad truth: this was the first time I used my Cuisinart for a dessert. Oh, what heaven. What ease. What taste. I definitely plan on seeing what kind of semi-healthy concoctions I can devise with the use of it. I think by far its best advantage was the incredible taste the fat-free cream cheese still offered. Quite impressive.

I have maintained contact with Penny, even with their move to California. It's been delightful to spend time talking to someone so uplifting, and the best part about such a person is, they see you in your best, kindest light -- somehow see you for who you'd like to be instead of the crummy version you usually imitate instead.

We are simultaneously pursuing two very different career opportunities. While I am highly inclined to believe a certain one of the two will work out, it's been interesting to feel so divided between the two. Not because I have no preference between the two, but because both mean such different things for our family. One would involve a move; the other would involve several. One would mean a four-day work week; the other, more money initially. One would be working in transportation (one of Scott's earliest and most passionate loves), and the other, he would find to be slightly more mundane, though certainly enjoyable and within his chosen profession of civil engineering. I'll be surprised if we know much about whether we've been able to secure either position before January.

Oh -- and a note to those whose Christmas shopping includes kids: I picked up some amazing, amazing, amazing deals at Babies R Us this year. They had 50% off their clearance, and Betsy didn't have any winter Sunday shoes. (Yes, she'd still been running around in her sandals. Pretty embarrassing, but I just didn't have $10 to spend on them, you know?) Anyway, I got her a black pair and a white pair for under $3 a piece. I also scored some sandals for next summer, several pairs of cheap socks, and cute pants for under $3 a pair, too! How all of it added up to $70 I'll never know. They did, however, mention that this 50% off clearance was rare. So if they don't do it next year it might not be worthwhile after all.

Penny!

The past couple of weeks I've kept thinking to myself there was something I promised someone I'd post, but I couldn't remember for the life of me what it was! It finally hit me today, and so I must apologize to Penny for my delay. She currently exists back in the pre-FB days and so I told her we'd post here.

Oh -- and kudos to Jessi of Creative Juice Photography! I had an absolute blast with her and felt so at ease with her. And not just because we'd spent a semester living together. Jessi is super easy-going and artistic -- exactly the right combination for family portraiture!

pomp & circumstance

Kids grow up so fast these days.

Seeing Scott graduate was quite the cause for celebration. Another cause for celebration is the fact that I think this is the first post-pregnancy photo in which I am finally accepting of how I look. I'm not DONE losing weight, but at least in this photo most of my chin fat is gone.

Of course you're thinking to yourself, "I knew that Mary Elizabeth was a cute girl, but wow, she makes an adorable graduate." And you're right. Getting her all ready for the big day was no small feat. (Although, for the record, hers still are.) I didn't think any quandary truly existed that Google could not cure. Well, it appears infant/baby/child graduation/commencement cap and gowns/graduation clothes is it. After searching every combination of the above, I ended up asking Kinzie to create a pattern. And, I have to say, I stand in awe.





Scott's parents came down for the graduation, of course. My picture of them at the ceremony kind-of bites, but I wanted to include one of them from this special trip, so here goes. It's SOOC and the white balance is totally, totally off. I was experimenting with my WB settings and definitely learned a thing or two about what not to do.

Any questions about who is the center of the (Provo) Shea world?

So, now my sweetheart is working for Dr. Guthrie and starting on his master's thesis in the evenings and playing Mr. Mom during the day. And if I know Scott and his little girl, there's plenty of "play" to it.

the bowling champ

A week ago Scott finished up his beginning bowling class. They spent the last few weeks in a double-elimination tournament, and guess who turned out champ?

That's right. My sexy husband. Betsy and I were both there to cheer him on. I think it made him a little nervous, but his competitor even bowled a turkey in his last few frames and still didn't catch up.

The prize was 100 Grand. Too bad it came in the chocolate form.

Agonies of the FE exam

We love carrying Betsy in her sling -- and most of the time, she really gets a kick out of it, too. Now that she's getting older (almost 2 months!) she likes seeing a little bit more of the world. But, as you can tell from the picture, gazing up at Daddy is still a favorite pastime.

The cliche "when Momma ain't happy, nobody's happy" is only half true. Scott was stressed to no end over the FE a few weeks ago, and thus Momma and baby weren't exactly easy-going, either. He needed his sleep so badly that he slept on the couch so Mary Elizabeth wouldn't disturb him.

It was a grueling exam, beginning at 8 a.m. and ending at 5 p.m. with one half-hour break for lunch. Fortunately, Scott feels pretty confident that he passed, so we celebrated with a trip to the mall and Jason's Deli. (Their salad bar, I discovered, is now The Thing I Love To Eat The Most.)