uh...

...sorry about your head, Joseph. Apparently the Target sack I had you swaddled in wasn't sufficient enough to withstand the last 11 months. Don't worry; it isn't anything my glue gun can't fix.

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whoopsies

Has it really been over a month? Man. It's amazing how quickly time passes by when you are busy with a full-time law student hubby and two babies under two. And ward duties. And wife duties. And family and friends visiting duties. And lots of wonderful television shows to keep track of duties. And pinteresting, of course.

I wanted to do a really quick post to update on the babies and I promise when I upload pictures from my camera I'll update the last month of our lives since my absence!

Ruby turned 4-months October 29th--I KNOW! How is she already that old?! She weighed in at 15 pounds 8 ounces (90th) and 26 inches (97th). Her head was 17 inches or something (95th) (For comparison's sake, here were Oliver's 4-month stats: Height: 26 3/4 inches--97th percentile Weight: 17 pounds 2 ounces--92nd percentile Head: 95th percentile). She got her shots AND her ears pierced! She did exceptionally well and I was happy to have her ears get done in a doctor's office rather than dragging myself and the two kids into a Claires in the mall like a teen mom (or like I did when I was 12 and wanted a second set of holes in my ears--pre-president hinckley's talk on piercings, of course).

Some tid-bits about my Ruby-cakes:
*will not take a pacifier (much to my chagrin). she acts like I'm sticking a dagger in her mouth when I try.
*is incredibly attentive. she has been this way from the beginning. she focuses on people and follows them around the room.
*a little bit of a drama queen. i know, already you say?
*smiles with her entire face. like, she really commits to the smile.
*she often goes 6-7 hours that first stretch of sleep, but then follows it up by waking up every 2 hours.
*still has massively huge (and skinny!) feet. i've said this once and i'll say it again: i may be huge, but my feet are disproportionately small.
*looks exactly like her daddy--eyes, nose, eyebrows--with the exception of the shape of her mouth, which is a dead-ringer of mine (minus the pout of hers--she has really full lips--those are from daddy, too).
*just the sweetest disposition. really. i know everyone says that about their kids but she is just so kind-hearted and docile. it's a perfect balance from her loudly gregarious big brother.

...speaking of the big brother: he is doing awesome and talking up a storm. just recently he's started putting words together and saying 2, 3, and 4-word sentences. He is a massive (little) tank. He loves Mickey Mouse and Dora. he adores his baby sister (if she is sleeping he'll cock his head to one side and say, "where sis go?"--I'm not kidding. I'll get it on video before I post again). He's a full-fledge daddy's boy and just tolerates me. he loves 'fishies!' and chicken. he pokes himself with his finger and says, 'ow, ow, ow'.

 i love him. and i love her.

here are a few pictures to send you off...

obviously, the last one is my favorite. goob.

(*thanks to sis-in-law Shalee for the last 3 pics!)

3 months

I have been terrible at updated.

I have sooo many things to blog about, but for now I just wanted to do a quick post on my little princess, as she turned 3 whole months today. Can you believe it? I love my little lady.

Here's Rubes at 10 days 

(this picture was taken by Jennie Kunz Photography--it is one of my most favorite from the shoot)

and here's my sweetie at 3-months:

Can we say daddy's twin?

I think so.

and if you don't think so, maybe this will change your mind:

Looks like we have another brown-eyed babe on our hands...!

*notable Rubisms @ 3-months*

-loooooves chewing on her hands

-rolled over once, haha

-beginning the weaning process. maybe. 

-just so happy and content

 (which is weird, because originally she was super high-maintenance and dramatic, but as of late she has just been an absolute delight and so easy to please)

-does a pretty intense sit-up

-still has the most kissable lips 

(which I take advantage of 10939023920 times a day)

love this sweet girl of ours.

here's one of me and Rubes:

(pardon my general disgustingness

...and Rubes apparent disgust with me, too)

while we're at random pictures, how about one of me after I tied socks in my hair to make it curly?

what,  you say?

I saw some thing on pinterest that suggested tying socks in your hair overnight.

it was completely ridiculous looking.

here is the result:

(seems to be more frizz and confusion than curl)

...and another of me (obsessed much) 

and how about one more?

and how about some of Sean?

did i mention we have this obscene-sized mac?

it's pretty much the size of our actual tv, so naturally, we're always on it.

wait, did i seriously leave oliver out? 

hahaha.

Here are some of the biggest goof in the family:

oliver and his best friend, dax when they came to visit!

and oh.my.gosh. how about our dapper little dude??

(photo stolen from Khardy--at her wedding)

i just love my babes.

milk ladies-1, summer-0

Is there anything more awesome then when you leak through your shirt?

And by shirt, I mean a nursing pad, bra, tank-top, shirt, and receiving blanket.

Oh, the pains in my %$# joys of nursing.

(the things we do for the needy)

ruby ruby rubeeeeeh, ahuhahuhahuhhhhaaaa

(it's a song by Kaiser Chiefs--> listen here)

Ruby girl is 2 months old!

oh my, I just love this girl. I am sad she's no longer my itty-bitty newborn but I forget how much I love the infant stages. she is still such a sensitive soul--such a stark contrast from her psycho brother--it makes her little personality extra-special. it's a wonder I get anything done during the day since she demands I hold her every waking second of the day (oh, she just pooped on my lap. literally. i'll be right back--see?? I even hold her when I blog!)

Ok, I'm back. She had her appointment a couple of days ago and here are her stats:

11 pounds 14 ounces--75th-90th percentile

23.25 inches--75th-90th percentile

I don't remember the measurement, only that it was in the 95th percentile.

Freakin' noggin'. 

So, she's pretty big (obviously). 

For comparisons sake, here are Oliver's from his 2-month:

13 pounds 9 ounces--95th percentile

25 inches--95th percentile

95th percentile noggin.

So, there you have it. What is super weird about my babies is they weigh heavy, but they don't look chubby. Like, at all. They look super lean. In fact, a lady in the mother's lounge at church couldn't get over how skinny her legs were (although, her 6-month old has legs about as big as mine, so yeah).

She is a great nighttime sleeper. oh.my.gosh. Last night she slept from 10PM-6AM. 

it was an exceptionally good night.

normally she does between 6-7 hours after her last nighttime binge. when people find out they say, "oh you are sooo lucky" or, "not fair!" psh. when you have a toddler who didn't sleep through the night for a year and a half, we can talk.

last few noteable things about ruby cakes:

still nursing

NOT spitty at all (can you believe it?!)

thooooper sensitive

is happy when she is being held or fed

has thick brown hair coming in

her feet have grown an inch (!!!!) since she was born--they are 4 inches 

looks like her eyes will be light--time will tell.

no picture for this post--we got a new computer yesterday and haven't uploaded any. but soon!

for some reason, I debated making this post.

why?

I was worried that people (both of my faith and not) would leave me mean or non-relevant comments or start some war with words via an anonymous poster.
I just like the blog post, geesh.

it's my blog, and I can do whatever I want.

I got this from my awesome FIL a month-ish ago.

sean and I felt the message was poignant and lovely.

:-)

p.s. the man in the link was recently called to ward executive secretary in the bay area

(he was set apart by my FIL)


I just realized it would probably be better if I explained why I love his story. It isn't necessarily because I have had a difficult time understanding the church's stance on homosexuality within the church, but rather I was so curious how it felt from the other side. I am a pretty stereotypical conservative Republican (as far as my interest in politics is concerned, which isn't really that great an interest--sue me). 
I have been (I shamefully admit) judgemental and ignorant, and unfortunately, still often am.
 I am grateful for Brother Mayne's blog because in the midst of worldly anger, confusion, sadness, judgement, ostracism, pain, and whatever other emotion people within and outside my faith believe or feel about homosexuality, homosexual inclinations, or whatever-- he sees the big, beautiful picture. 
And if he can see that, I sure as heck better be able to do it, too. 
Life is all about perspective, people.

6 weeks?!

My newborn has officially graduated to an infant.

Seriously, WHERE DOES TIME GO??

(on the top is when we left the hospital, the bottom is Rubes at 6 weeks)

 So what can we conclude? Her head is the size of a fairly large watermelon.

And her sweet watermelon noggin is pretty bald.

I haven't had the chance to blog about Ruby since I talked about the delivery so I am really looking forward to this post to commemorate her first six weeks.

Here are the most notable things about our little lady:

*since we brought her home she sleeps 5-6 hours when we put her down for the night. It's totally awesome considering Oliver didn't sleep through the night until, oh, about 3 months ago.

*she is SUPER sensitive. meaning, if we pick her up too quickly or move her limbs out of motion with how she wants she will shriek. haha. she also does it when I take a break from nursing to burp her or Sean takes a break with the bottle. I am going to get it on video one of these days.

*she loves to be held whereas Oliver didn't really care either way. That makes for interesting days.

*she nurses exceptionally well--also a stark contrast to Oliver. We'll see how long I end up going for.

*I'm pretty convinced she has the biggest feet EVER for a baby girl. suuuuper long and suuuuuper skinny.

*she has dark gray/blue eyes (maybe they'll end up light like mine!)--Oliver's were black pretty much from the beginning and they are now a really pretty chocolate brown.

*she is still in size 1 diapers and they fit just fine. all of her 3 month clothes are too baggy, but too short. poor girl.

Now, onto how Rubes worked her way into the system...

Having 2 babies 18 months apart has proven to be totally awesome! I love it. Sure, it gets tiresome at times. And sometimes I want to tie Oliver to a chair so he can't run around destroying the apartment, but isn't that what makes life interesting? I feel like I have more time to myself now than I did when it was just me and Oliver hanging out. Don't ask me how. Speaking of the goofball, many have asked how he has been with Ruby. To our surprise he has been an absolute delight. He holds her hand, gives her her bink when it falls out, and kisses her about fifteen thousand times a day. However, he pretty much hated us for the first month. I kind of feel like he talks to Ruby and says, "Look, I get it's not your fault you are here. It's theirs. I guess we're cool. But as for them? They'll get what's coming." 

This is a totally disjointed and poor excuse for a blog post. Sorry, it's late! Sue me. Here's some pictures of our Ruby Ruby Ruby at six weeks:

I tried for a half hour to get one of Ruby and I where she was looking in the general vicinity of the camera. Picture fail.

the babies

I went to get Oliver up yesterday morning and decided to put Ruby in with him to see how he would react.

He loved it.
(*please make note of the bite marks ALL OVER--proof you shouldn't spend an arm and a leg on a crib because your child won't care how pretty it is. They will think of it as the world's largest chew toy).

Okay, now remember how I took pictures in Oliver's room? I left the camera on the nightstand that I now know is too close to his crib. When putting him down for a nap that afternoon I was shocked to hear him up talking to himself almost an hour after I put him down. When the babbling stopped I went in to investigate. He was asleep with the camera in hand. I would have taken a picture if, well, he didn't have my camera.

And then I turned on the camera. 

25 shots. 

And I know there would have been more if the memory card wasn't full.

He is so dang funny. Here are some of his shots showcasing his keen eye for photography:

...and my personal favorite:

Yes. That IS his binky in the top-right corner.

Freaking goober.

:-)

I suck again!

Sorry. I have been on an almost 1-month hiatus (unintentionally) and I have lots to catch up on. After over 2500 miles of driving over a 9-day period, we are FINALLY at our home for the next 3 years: Aspen. 

Just kidding!

Los Angeles!

We are officially here and (mostly) moved in. For those who have asked us what part of LA, we now have an answer--we live in the Mar Vista part or whatever you call it, though our city address is officially Los Angeles. We are about 3 miles from UCLA campus, 5 miles from Santa Monica Pier, and 5 miles from Hollywood. So in other words, a pretty sweet location. Our apartment is great--a nice and spacious 2 bedroom/2 bath with a garage in a gated complex with 3 enclosed playgrounds for the kiddies as well as a pool and half basketball court. Oh, and all the grills one could ever hope for that are free to use whenever we want.

I wanted to post some pictures of the last two weeks to give a quick catch up of our travels. We decided to take a quick trip up to Washington before moving--and before moving I mean literally 2 days before we were leaving Utah to California. We got to see my Auntie Kay and Uncle Bob and Kevin and Shalee's new house! Unfortunately, I only have pictures of Oliver gardening at Auntie Kay's:

Sorry there aren't any pictures of Ruby. Haha. I think I forget sometimes that she is there--not in a neglectful-parent-type way, but in a oh-I-have-two-kids-to-take-pictures-of-now sort of way. 

Fast-forward to our little pool at our complex:

I know, the jheri curl is killing me.

And...to finish up this post, pictures from our first trip to the beach! Again, no good pictures of Ruby:

  beware of giganto foot in the left corner.

I promise the next post will have more of Rubert (Ruby).

ruby's arrival pt. last

...Yeah, so I guess I lied about posting later that night.

Anyway, so they took Ruby off to the nursery for further testing and as I was laying there getting stitched up (TMI? too bad) I overheard my doctor and nurse discussing her APGAR scores. A 5 and 7. BOO. I knew something was wrong. The stress of the 20-hour labor plus my water being broke and a slew of breathing and blood pressure things (caused by that d*** epidural) made Ruby a not-so-happy newborn. She spiked a fever of 101.7 and her blood work showed there were possible indicators of an infection somewhere in her tiny little body.

I was promptly told she would be in the hospital for at least 48 hours.

I was devastated. I cursed myself and my stupid body for not progressing quicker and thought of how selfish I was to try for a VBAC when a c-section would likely have not resulted in the same outcome.

The next morning we went into the nursery and met with the pediatrician who told us it would be 72 hours. He lied, by the way. He neglected to tell us she would be closely monitored for 72 hours and stay until the following Tuesday. TUESDAY?? Oh. My. Gosh. Ugh. I hated hearing that. I started bawling because I'm selfish and I just wanted to take her home and she had a stupid brain slug thing attached to her head and we could only hold her with a billion wires hanging off her.

I had a little pity party.

I know things could have been so much worse and I needed to be grateful she was healthy (because she really was--all of this was a precautionary thing). Her fever went down after an hour, by the way, and never again went above a 98.6. So then we played the waiting game.

For 6 days.
Well after I was discharged.
as Ruby's hospital guest (what the heck??).

My milk came in about 20 hours after I had her. That was awesome (not).  I was so massively engorged that I would feed her and pump for 3-ish minutes to alleviate some of the pain and would easily get out 6-8 ounces. I was like a cat, producing enough milk to feed 15 kids. In fact, I filled up the nursery's mini-fridge and freezer. Haha. Then I had to start dumping it, which made me slightly uncomfortable.

Anyway, we got discharged early Tuesday morning with flying colors (and a 12 ounce weight gain!) and couldn't have been happier to be home. Ruby is a great baby and nurses exceptionally well--which is great because Oliver wouldn't latch. The past couple of nights she went 6 hours without waking up. Hallelujah! She much prefers to be in her swing or to be rocked which frees up lots of my time to play with Oliver. Speaking of Oliver, he totally loves her and will periodically go up to her throughout the day and rub her head. However, he kind of hates us and throws things at us when he gets mad.

Oh the joys of a toddler and newborn.

I posted an album on FB, but I wanted to do a comparison of Ruby at 1 day and 11 days (today):

 

Little cutie-pie. :-)

ruby's arrival pt. 2

pt. 2

I was reading through my pt. 1 blog and I realize I had about a billion grammatical errors and several incoherent sentences. Oh well, I guess that is what to be expected when you are taking percocet. I'll try to pick up where I left off...

Ok, I think I left off somewhere after I started oxygen? Sure. We'll start there. So we're getting to about 5 in the afternoon and I am still at a 1.5 but am at 90%. I can feel the ominous vibes from the nurses and my OB and I just start to feel a c-section is going to be the end of my labor story. Ruby's heart rate was lacking variation and I was on oxygen and wasn't progressing quick enough. I was so sad (as was everyone else in the room) and tried my best to keep it together. At 8 ish (maybe closer to 9?) I got my first of what was supposed to be 2 bags of antibiotics since we were entering hour 14 of my water breaking and everyone was getting concerned about infection. My nurse hooked the antibiotic up and started the drip. It stung/burned really bad. She said yes. And then as I was starting to sweat, I get the sensation of someone driving butcher knives up and down through my arm over and over and over again. I scream several choice swear words and start to rip the tape off my arm to pull the IV out. Apparently the nurse 'accidently' turned it on the highest drip for a split-second and that was the result. I was seriously SO discouraged and becoming really tired and weak (obviously).  At this point I was resigned to the fact that perhaps I was never meant to have a vaginal delivery.

And then 9:30 PM rolls around.

I get checked at 9:30 and magically I'm at a 3+. OH.MY.GOSH. We were all so excited! Progress! I just kept praying that I would get to a 5 before it was too late because, typically, when you get to a 5 it progresses pretty quickly at that point. Keep in mind I have yet to get my second bag of antibiotics...*

She checked me again at 10:30 and I was a 5+. And again at 1145 and I was a 7+ and completely thinned. By 1230 AM I was a 9+ and I started my first push at 12:50. That one was with the nurse. I did one set of 3 10 second pushes and she told me to stop and called my doc. 

He rolled in about 10 minutes later. I pushed 3 sets of 4 10 second pushes and she was born at 1:16 AM.

:-)

So, he put her on my chest and I noticed she was a little off-colored and not really moving. Or crying. I kept asking if that was normal but my audience was assuring me she was just fine (bless their hearts).  I was busy puking and sweating to see what was going on across the room. After they weighed her and I heard a weak and faint cry, they left. With Ruby. And off went Sean. 

I am going to break this post up from the next one because it's silly to have ones that are too long. I promise I am posting it tonight!

ruby's arrival pt. 1

first and foremost, our sweet baby girl:

Ruby Jane Mosman

born 6/29/11 @ 1:16 am

7 pounds 13 ounces 21.5"

second:

...the tale of the 20-hour trip to hell and back.

(be forewarned; it is long, graphic, and often sweary (yes, sweary))

I have put off posting this blog since our sweet Ruby was born because I'm not quite sure how to approach it. So I am going to do a brief summary of things from 38 weeks until the morning I went to the hospital:

38 W--membranes stripped-got an ultrasound where the tech concluded baby was good, measuring in at 7 lbs 13 oz. amniotic levels were good, placenta was "really mature." Still dilated to a 1, 60%.
38 W 2 D--mucous plus comes out (yep, this post is going to be pretty graphic) membranes stripped again.
39 W--membranes stripped again--moved to 1.5 centimeters and 70%.
39 W 2 D--membranes stripped AGAIN (yeah, whatever). Still at 1.5 centimeters and 70%.
39 W 6 D--membranes STRIPPED AGAIN. No change in progress so the doctor orders another ultrasound. She's measuring the exact same as she was @ 38 weeks. Doctor notes calcification on my placenta but says it's fine. However, she wasn't moving much so we did a non-stress test. Everything looked great there.

...now for the details:

After the ultrasound we talked to my doc and formulated a plan as to what the course of action would be. I had a strong feeling I shouldn't go past my due date (June 28th). My doctor was willing to go until that Friday (the 1st of July--today) if I came in daily until then for a non-stress test. Because I wanted a VBAC I was not eligible for an induction (cervadil/pitocin) and either had to go into labor on my own or be admitted and have my membranes artifically ruptured. We all decided Wednesday the 29th was a good compromise. I left that Monday feeling incredibly discouraged about having to be admitted AGAIN and mad at my body for not progressing like it should. Oh, I should explain why having a successful VBAC was so important to me: if I tried for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) and failed, it would be in my medical history as a 'failed VBAC attempt' and it would be virtually impossible for me to try again, especially after having 2 sections and because of liability issues, it would be virtually impossible (again) to find a doctor and hospital combo willing to attempt a 3rd or 4th section. Also, it should be noted that a VBAC attempt is much different than labor and delivery as a standard vaginal. It's more high-risk, therefore I am watched MUCH more closely and blahblahblah.

Enter 5:15 AM June 28th.

My water actually broke on its own!

We do the whole "race to the hospital because my water broke and that means I'm going to have the baby in 2 hours!". We checked in at the ER while I sat in a wheelchair. I got up from the wheelchair and looked down at the seat and shouted to the lady as I walked out, "Uh, I leaked my fluids all over that chair. Just so you know." Sean was mortified. Nothing could have brought me down at that moment because my water broke on its own and I was having a baby! I didn't care that my pants were completely soaked and I leaked a trail all the way from the ER to my room.

(before it got all awful and stuff)

I went to the room and started having contractions 2-3 minutes apart and they were REALLY intense. I kept thinking, "ahhh, this is freaking painful but what if I just dealt with it? Maybe it would be a short labor and I could always ask for an epi later on...". Then the nurse said the anesthesiologist was in the next room and asked if I wanted mine now.

Sure, why not?

Little did I know that would end up being the WORST. DECISION. EVER. 

The anesthesiologist was a total a-hole. Didn't explain anything and had horrible bedside manner. I assumed a sideways position and listened to him babble about this and that and then he said, "ok, you may feel a small shock." SHOCK. Mother freaker. He says a second time, "you may feel another shock." SHOCK. Can you believe he said it a third time? And what do you know, another freaking shock. FINALLY, he said it one last time, and that shock turned into an entire body convulsion leaving me momentarily seizing and sobbing hysterically. I couldn't talk. I couldn't think. I couldn't even breathe.  He doesn't say a word and packs up his crap and leaves (don't worry, I've already complained--and by complained I mean threatened to sue the guy, haha). Oh, here's the best part about the epidural: according to the doctor, because of how 'tall' I am, aka huge, I had to keep my bed almost completely reclined or I would throw up. Every freaking time. And then my blood pressure would drop. Oh, I forgot to tell you that after I seized a bit when they rolled me back over my blood pressure dropped to 78/42 and I couldn't breathe and started vomiting. Awesome. I honestly thought I was dying.

Anyway.

The epidural then (sort of) kicks in, though there was never a point during the entire 20-hour labor that I felt zero pain and what do you know? Contractions stop dead. Nothing. No, I'm not saying I didn't feel pain, I'm saying the contracts flat-lined. Seriously? I am 2 for 2 on here-are-the-things-that-could-happen-as-a-result-of-your-epidural scoreboard. How long did they stop for? 6 hours. What time is it by now? A little after 3 in the afternoon. My water broke 10 hours ago and the nurses and my doc are getting concerned because after all, the catch-22 of your water breaking is it means your baby is coming, but it means it has to come within a certain amount of time because the risk of infection for mom and baby skyrockets exponentially. Plus, I'm a VBAC so they're freaking out even more. All the while my blood pressure would randomly drop and so would Ruby's heart rate. So now I am on oxygen. They tell me to not take it off at all. At least I sounded like Darth Vader.

Ok, I have to take a break and go relieve the beach balls that have somehow surfaced underneath my skin. Oh yeah, people have been asking to see a side-by-side of Oliver and Ruby for comparison's sake.

what say you?

Sean's First Guest Post In A Long Time

I've been telling Summer to upload this video for more than a year now, and she hasn't done it, so I decided to take matters into my own hands:

Sorry if the formatting is all messed up.

This video has a funny little story to go with it. The year was 2008, and I was working in Southern California for the summer. Of course, I spent most of my days pining for my sweetheart back in Provo. Finally the separation was too much for me to bear, and I got her a plane ticket to come out and visit (or maybe she bought it. But if she did, she dipped into her student loans, which I am now paying off... so my revisionist history says I bought it. So there). Unbeknownst to her, I also bought her a sweet engagement ring! Maybe the thought of a permanent separation was the kick in the pants I needed to get the ball rolling on the whole "eternal companion" thing. I decided it was time to pop The Question.

So I took a day off from work and we spent the morning tooling around Orange County. We went shopping, saw a matinee (Kung Fu Panda!), had some tall, frosty Starbucks drinks, and got a bite to eat at a local taqueria. In the late afternoon we headed over to Newport Beach to relax, to soak up some sun, and to give me a chance to catch my breath a little bit before taking the ultimate plunge.

Now, I had the ring in my pocket the whole time (although you can see in the video that I briefly forgot where exactly my pocket was when it was time to produce the goods). I also had a camera with a sweet video function to capture the moment. What I did not have was a videographer. But a plan had begun to form in my head. The time? Sunset. The place? Newport Pier. The videographer? Still to be determined. 

Before I knew it, the sun had begun to dip below the horizon. We booked it to the pier. Summer said I was being cryptic or something, I don't know, I wasn't paying attention. I was too focused on locating the lucky stranger who would be filming my epic proposal.

We stopped about halfway down the pier. I put my arm around my sweetie and we looked out over the water, seeing our whole future stretched out before us, and some seagulls. Secretly I was setting up the shot in my head. The sun was in position. The angle was right. I pretty much looked like a million bucks. Summer looked like a trillion bucks. But where was my videographer?! I did not trust any of the old farts around us to work my newfangled digital camera with the sweet video function.

But wait! There, about a hundred yards down the pier, was a young lady who looked like she knew a thing or two about technology. She was wearing glasses, for one thing, and looking at her iPhone, for another. And she was alone. A perfect victim!

I told Summer I was going to get someone to take a picture of us, and quickly sprinted away, leaving my sweetheart agape behind me. I caught up to the technophile girl, all out of breath, and explained my situation. She looked skeptical. I demonstrated how the sweet video function worked (it was such a sweet function that I felt the need to show it off a little). She reluctantly took the camera and followed me back to where Summer stood waiting.

I put my arm around my sweetie and we posed for the picture. On my impromptu camerawoman's signal ("say cheese!"), I dropped to one knee... and the rest is history. History on video, in fact! The best kind!

With our baby girl set to arrive any day now, I thought it would be fun to surprise Summer by posting this video, in part to remind her of a special moment in our lives together (one of many), and partially to demonstrate just how far we've come in a few short years. Summer, you're still my sweetheart and always will be!

I love you, Summer Mosman!

-Sean

how is it already half-way through June?

here are some things we've been up to since the last update:

we put oliver in the bird cage:

we played indoors:

and outdoors:

(that's one of oliver's most favorite people--our neighbor Emma)

we went to scera pool where I braved the body and wore a suit:

(don't you love how oliver didn't cooperate for ANY of those pictures?)

 went to the Orem Summerfest parade with Uncle Van and Aunt Savannah and Sean's cousin John and his wife, Aimee:

...and lastly, I got bigger. Go figure.

here is the 38 w 4 d shot:

I am pretty sure my next update will be of either 

a) baby girl or b) me complaining about still being pregnant. 

I'm going to assume the latter.

*note: I did the belly picture last so you could compare it to the 37 week one--did you notice I actually look smaller? If you did notice, you are correct. My fundal height dropped almost 3 centimeters because the lady descended pretty deep into my pelvis at my appointment yesterday, according to the internal. Progress, people!