August hardly exists at all

I flew in from Utah last night. I spent almost a week there and it was enough hard to come back that I just tried not to think about it. You should know that a) when I looked out the window in Wyoming somewhere and started to notice the ground crinkling into foothills, I got misty-eyed, b) my family is incredible: supportive and stylish and funny and kind and lovely, c) James and I ate at Beto's twice, Cafe Rio, my mom's house, JDawg, Station 22, and Slab and though we missed a couple of places, this mostly hit the spot, d) friends are the right answer. Always.
I like it there. I like knowing where to go to find the right gift and the best coke and the cheapest gas. I know it's only a matter of time before any place gets familiar like that, but I miss that here. I like the mountains (James and I spent our anniversary evening in a hammock hanging in aspens in a meadow under the moon) and I miss being so close, always, to wilderness and silence and solitude.

Babies. I felt Lando kicking tonight. I've felt him rustle around before this, but tonight it was like he was trying to get my attention: Hey there. Hey. Hey. I'm awake! Are you awake!? I learned today that work is going to be less flexible about post-Lando life than I'd hoped. And I'm so disappointed. I shouldn't be. It's not personal (it's business...). It just feels so silly. And sort of demeaning (it's really less expensive to recruit, hire, and train, and take a chance on a newbie than letting me switch my responsibilities around?). We'll make it work, and it will be ok (this isn't placating--James is in a good spot, we'll be just fine, I feel hopeful and blessed), but I was suddenly 13 again and my mom was travelling all the time and that, I realized in a really visceral way, was the choice: have an income and good insurance to take care of your kids in exchange for not spending very much time with your kids. A much more emotional discussion at work than I'd anticipated.
And it brought me back to: do people think that work is more important than family for real? I know the arguments about finding fulfillment outside the home, nurturing your strengths, being true to yourself, etc, and I'll back down a little, because this is a personal thing and I don't mean to be dismissive or prescriptive, but for me, even when I was doing something I was good at and loved, I would much much rather be hanging out with my family and friends than working. I find 100% more fulfillment, in the deepest parts of me, nurturing my relationships than in anything I've done for a job. For me, all things being equal (in a way that hardly ever happens in real life), home and family is the right answer. And right at this moment it seems silly to pretend like it's not. And I almost feel silly about spending so much time and energy on something that gives so little back (you know, food and shelter and the value of a hard day's work notwithstanding).

Loves,
keb

This last couple of weeks were sort of a rollercoaster. In the best way. On the 20th, James left Madison to go down to Nassau to help his dad with some things while his step-mom was home. I puttered and kept busy (I weeded our garden! I swam in our lake!) till I left for Detroit the next week, spent my time there, then flew down to join James.

It was wonderful. I spent days and days sitting by the pool/floating in the ocean/working on my tan (which right now, due to poor planning,  is peeling off my body)/reading novels. James was able to help his dad get some good work done and it was lovely to spend time with him down there.

On the 3rd we were invited to the US Embassy's ship-board Independence Day celebration which we got to right after the Governor General (which involved a lot of standing to the side). We were terribly underdressed (what is casual elegant supposed to mean anyway), but had a lovely time snacking on hors d'oeuvres and dancing a little and watching the mucky mucks get their politico on. We were all sort of wasted, so we left before the fireworks, but it was one of those things you don't get to do very often and we were glad to have gone.

We spent the fourth traveling back to Chicago. I was working there on Thursday and Friday so we flew back together and spent the evening hanging out: mostly napping (air conditioning!), though we got to Jason's Deli and I drank ice water till my eyes watered. And the salad bar! I'm not hard to please, but oh it was lovely.

The next morning James left for the airport and I got my stuff done. I won't pretend the 105* weather didn't bother me at all (I did, after all, spend my time in an air-conditioned clinic), but I survived. Then, finally, on Friday night, James and I were both home at our house together for the first time in almost 3 weeks. Hiding in our bedroom because it's the only room with air conditioning.

Yesterday was all getting settled: James spent hours and hours putting some final touches onto his prospectus. I went and watered and weeded our tomatoes, braved Costco at lunchtime (which in Madison, rivals Orem's Costco any time), started and mostly finished The Tipping Point, generally relaxed and tried to reset for this week.

I made a statement today by wearing a maxi dress to church. I'm still not quite showing, but people are starting to look a little more carefully at my belly (which I guess is a thing you get used to?). Anyway. Feeling healthy and happy and (mostly) glad to be back home.

Here's the thing

I'm a short-haired girl. It was getting long and it was thick and lovely, but I started getting "I don't think I've ever seen you with your hair down" and "You're almost *30*!?" and also early mornings at work when it was obviously still wet for the first meetings of the day and also just the feeling of not being comfortable in my own skin, of feeling uncertain even when I wore my best jeans and I was done.

This is what it looks like now:

Super win.

So Father's Day

Is sort of a big deal this year.






(I'm due mid-December and feeling good.)

(And keeping this mostly off of Facebook--my job doesn't know yet. But no stress.)

Strawberries

I don't have pictures, so you're going to have to take my word for this one: try it, it's as beautiful as it is delicious.

1/2 C Water
1/2 C Sugar
rind from one lemon (this is optional, but delicious of course)
Add to a small sauce pan and boil till the sugar dissolves, set aside.

To your blender, in this order, add:
Half a lime
half a blender of ice
half a blender of frozen strawberries
a handful of basil leaves (right?)

Pour the still-warm syrup into the blender, trying your best not to let the syrup run straight from the pan to the glass, so as not to shatter/melt your blender.

Grind, puree, liquify, until your lime is in tiny bits and the rest of your daiquiri is smooth and shiny.

Invest in some tiny umbrellas.

Enjoy the end your spring!

Did you know that Omaha is beautiful and very cool? It is. The hidden gem of I-80.

I was so sad when Sister Beck was released. She stirred the pot and got flack for it, from me sometimes too, but I think she was demanding and honest and smart and articulate, and that she took women/womanhood/Relief Society really seriously. And I respect her for all of those things.

In a stake conference she told us that we're doing better than we think and that we could be doing better. This is something that James and I have tried to take to heart: stress less, do more. It's something I hope I always remember.