Looks Like We Made It...

...thanks for the intro, Barry Manilow!

We made it to California. Boo ya! It was Finn's 5th time on an airplane but alas, it was the first time it was just me and him. Together. By ourselves. Alone.

It was stressful but the good thing about it is when people see someone struggling (and by struggling, I mean dropping bags, car seats, bottles and blankets simultaneously while chasing after an escapist 10 month old) they tend to help out a bit. Which is always awkward when people are picking up your stuff, but whatevs.

(On a side note, I got a Petunia Picklebottom bag specifically for this trip thinking it would be great for travel but it really wasn't. It was so bulky I couldn't get anything out of it on the plane which made both me and Finn very sad. I'm sticking to my Storksak thank ya vary mach.)

Thankfully, Finn is the biggest shmoozer to ever grace an airport. He bats his little eyelids, waves, claps, whatever it takes for people to oooh and aaaaw over him and therefore notice my plight.

And then there was the guy standing next to me with his little boy at the boarding gate going, "My kid is just so....awesome...I mean really just....awesome!" That's verbatim, FYI. Gotta love airports.

All struggle-age aside, we're here and Finn's having a total blast. Naps go out the window when there is an un-babyproofed house to explore. The excitement of new territories to explore just overwhelms the little guy with happiness until he's red in the face. This could get dangerous.

Danger being added by the fact that crawling has gone out the window. Walking is his new thang. Crawling is sooo two weeks ago. He won't do it. At all. Just walks. Or expects me to carry him (I'm not immune to his shmoozing yet, apparently). I'm ok with it though, because I can now justify buying shoes for him. Cute, little person shoes!

He's also got TWO bottom teeth coming in which brings his total net tooth count up to a big ol' whopping three.

Dental developments aside, this week is guaranteed to be frantastic because we're going swimming (I had to buy him a bigger bathing suit in size 2T!!!) and other stuff like that.

Goings Ons...

Since there is no defining moment on which to write this blog I thought I'd update all my peeps out there with the various things that are hap-hapenning...in list form, of course. Lists make the world go 'round.

1. Finn = toddler. Basically, (and I'm just bragging, here...per usual) he's got this walking thing down to pat. And he's not even 10 and a half months old. He'll walk loops around the living room, into the kitchen, back to the living room and then to his room...all in one go. It's like he's surveying all of his domain now that he can actually see it from a a better standpoint. And he's almost mastered standing up on his own without pulling himself up on anything. It's almost as if he's turning into...wait for it....a REAL person!

2. My mom is running a marathon on Saturday because she's bad ass like that. I did a 5 mile run the other day and she caught up to me at the end of her 15 mile run. What?! And I'm not slow, people!... I'm not fast, either but hey, semantics, shemantics.

3. Project Runway starts tonight. I'm watching Season 8 re-runs right now and it's bringing back memories of how much I hate Gretchen. And how Finn was born on a Thursday and I was kind of bummed that they didn't have Lifetime in the hospital because that meant that I missed that week's episode.

4. I have cracked open my GRE study book. I've bought notebooks, I've bought vocab flashcards (because I kept on having to ask Luke what words meant...he suggested I read the dictionary. Hardy-har-har)...but I probably should be studying more than I actually am....like, now for instance. Because apparently I need to know that approbative is a synonym for lauditory. (side note: Blogger spell-check doesn't even think approbative is a word...but apparently the GRE does. Who am I to believe??!)

5. I was going to try and get 10 bulletpoints here, but it's looking like that is not going to happen...

6. I've got nothing else...dang.

7. Pictures!

Heeey!

Byyyye!

I'm Cracking Things...

Ok, my pencils are lined up at the correct angle to the edge of the table.

I've eaten, taken my vitamins and gone to the bathroom.

I've got my SmartWater (hoping some of the smart-ness seeps into my brain through osmosis)...

So, I'm ready, right?

Wrong! I need to go get a notebook! To write down the answers! Doi!

And so it goes...studying for the GRE. I've bought the nerdy study book, but I'll admit, I haven't cracked it open once. Hopefully the admissions board isn't spying on me through the window. I've got my eye open for any bespectacled person in a sweater vest and loafers...that is what people on the BYU admissions board look like, right?

Right.

Now that Luke is an official employee of the good ol' Y as a Systems Engineer (an AMAZING job/opportunity for him/us in it's own right), I decided I take the opportunity of greatly, greatly discounted tuition and apply for theBYU Master's program. Hopefully in creative writing.

Key word: apply. As in, they have to let me in. As in, they probably take one look at my undergrad overall GPA and dismiss me before ever reading my utterly witty and fantastically persuasive Letter of Intent....that I haven't written yet.

And before all this even happens, I'll have to(re) enter the terrifying world of standardized test and take the GRE....which has math on it. MATH. I haven't done that in....4 years, at least. And I wasn't good at it then. I almost wanted to ask if that part was excluded for English Majors...but I didn't want to start of on an even worse foot. Here's to hoping they throw in a few times tables questions and call it good.

So, I've got the Princeton Review and now all I need is divine intervention, a small miracle, and some notebooks....you can't start studying without notebooks, you know.

"Cracking the GRE"? More like, "Crack while Studying for the GRE"

Whaaat?

10 months? 2 more months 'till the big partay??

Oh yes. He's gettin old.

And smart. And cute. And all that stuff a mom is supposed to say about her bebe.

People are always like, "Can you believe how quickly it goes by??!" And I'm always like, "Yeah!" But what I really want to say is, "Not really...Have you ever stayed indoors all winter/(unusually cold) spring? Time doesn't exactly fly." But I want to seem like Miss Perfect Mom so I keep it simple and optimistic.

But while things aren't hugely different than last month we've had a big ol' leap in the walking department. As in he's doing it. Like a drunk man trying to do the 'straight-line' sobriety test, but still. And while he's doing the stereotypical "walk from mom to dad" thing, he's also brave enough to go from couch to couch on his own. Or from couch to middle of the room. He's got an inflated walking-ego, like that,

"Walk farther than 10 steps? Heck yes, I can! I'm Finn Rebarchik!"

Splat.

Or something like that...

I'm trying not to encourage the whole walking business, though. I'm exhausted just from chasing him while he crawls. Shoot.

In other news, remember that tooth he got OVER A MONTH AGO?!....it's still a lone soldier in that barren landscape called Finn's gums. Who gets only one tooth and then stays that way?

And besides figuring out how to drink his bathwater and climb in and out of his pool, we're just looking forward to going to California in a couple weeks to visit my idea of civilization. Shweet!!

Epistemological Crisis #201

Every year my mom's birthday rolls around and I am hit, full on, by one serious crisis.

Here's the backstory (aren't you guys glad I always give you a backstory?! I'm thorough like that)...ok, here it goes: My mom and I have a few things in common: We wear the same size clothes, and we have similar tastes in clothes and bags (not shoes! We do NOT have similar tastes in shoes... Did I make that clear?).

We kind of have matching closets. I don't know why we buy two of everything because we could basically just share. And what doesn't match I took from her closet and put it in mine. Or vice versa.

This means that every year (ok, twice a year...once again at christmas, so shoot me) I go shopping for my mom and ultimately end up buying something for me...but wrapped up for her.

I intend on stealing the present I bought. Worst. Daughter. Ever.

And everyone knows it, too. It's the running gag in the family...like, "Hey Brittany, buy yourself another present for mom's birthday?"

I really should feel worse than I actually do.

And here we are again...8 days away from her somethingth birthday and the package wrapped up in the closet is calling my name. Briiiiittttany. Wear me and pretend that you bought it for yourself even though everyone will know the truuuuuuth.

Shut up, present. Just shut it.

I wish I could show a picture to prove it but she is about as elusive as Big Foot when it comes to photographs...so just trust me on this one...

Adios!

Luke started his new job today. He's a programmer for BYU now.

I'm one proud wifey, let me tell you.

But that means that the two of us have officially left Five Star Painting behind.

I probably spent more time in that office than I did at home in the 2 years I was there, and the same goes for Luke for the year he was there. Heck, Finn basically grew up (in-utero) there.

Don't get me wrong, I have some fond(ish) memories of the place. Can you say free air conditioning? And not-so-secret crossword puzzle competitions with the gals (riveting, I know)...

...and there was the one time I got prank called by a Winnipeg radio station. Where I was on-air...live...telling them I would contact an estimator to see if we could, in fact, remove the paint from their cat's fur. (If you couldn't tell, I didn't catch on very fast to that one. Whoops.)

And besides the almost-slave-labor-wages, lack of overtime/vacation hours/lunch breaks, late nights and angry customers, I'm sure that, in a moment of weakness, we'll miss them.

*Tear*
Thanks for the memories...and free office supplies.

I Can Haz Cheezburger?

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. (I don't know who 'they' are, but I'm sure they've done the research.)

Anyway, I think the road to obesity may be paved with the same stuff.

Here's the back story, people. Today, I'm feeding Finn one of my wonderful baby-food concoctions and I think to myself, "What is this green mess? Oh yeah, spinach, cauliflower and tofu...eeeeeew."

(P.S. He ate it and liked it...so he's either really hungry...or has no taste buds)

(P.P.S. I thought about trying the food just to see if it wasn't so bad, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Bad sign, right there)

And then I thought, "Shoot. If someone was forcing me to eat this I would run out to McDonalds ASAP and get myself a Big Mac to make up for this nastiness."

And now I'm pretty sure that's what's going to happen as soon as Finn figures out how to get his teething keys into the ignition of the car. He'll be in the drive through at Mickey D's making up for all the months he was forced to eat my healthy, spinach-infused, culinary masterpieces.

He'll be one of those kids at school trading his tofurkey for a twinkie at lunch...or throwing it out and buying a twinkie. (Because let's face it, what kid wants to trade his twinkie for tofurkey?)

And all because I'm gunning for that Mother of the Year Award...or at least MOTYA Greatest Food Maker.

Riiiiiight.
Sorry, bud.

But don't worry...we have fun, too. I let him go nuts on a bowl of spaghetti and sauce and this was the end (happy!) result. He loves to feed himself which is nice in that messy kind of way.