This week was fantastic. We took a spur-of-the moment trip to Texas to visit the Ballards and we were very well taken care of. We got to see The Hobbit, we fit in a temple trip, we ate great barbeque and homemade lasagna and got massages and Isaac cried maybe twice the entire trip--his aunts, uncles, and cousins were just smitten and couldn't put him down. We also introduced the boy to a sunshine/fresh air combo that was completely novel to our winter baby and appreciated. Isaac had a great time being passed back and forth between his adoring fans. He's such a cooperative, charming kid.
As far as milestones go, I has slept through the night (10-6) twice in a row now. I'm not holding my breath that he'll keep it up, but it's been awesome. He's able to hold his upper body up for a long moment when he feels the need (either to complain or to check out his surroundings), and is able to stand up if we help him balance. His repertoire of coos is also expanding. Isaac hates falling asleep (once he's down, he's great at it)--he'll resist and resist and pop his eyes open (even if they're sooo droopy before he'll finally let himself fall off.
We're happy and healthy and feel so blessed.
Ballards out.
(For pics: ikjballardfam.tumblr.com)
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Friday, November 23, 2012
Thanks
I'm just as cynical as the next over-educated liberal arts major-type about small-pox infested blankets and Manifest Destiny, but can I just say, there's something really touching to me that the holiday that sort of kicks off our national mythology is based in giving thanks. I like sitting and eating with family and friends. I like making food based on recipes from my grandma (failed stuffing) and from new sisters-in-law (not failed sweet potato pie).
I'm grateful for the circumstances I find myself in. Grateful for my husband, for my wiggly fetus (36.5 weeks!), for my cute, tiny flat. For my family. For this time to take a break and think about all of these things.
Amen.
I'm grateful for the circumstances I find myself in. Grateful for my husband, for my wiggly fetus (36.5 weeks!), for my cute, tiny flat. For my family. For this time to take a break and think about all of these things.
Amen.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Jeremy asked about the radio silence, and I have some answers: the first is that I'm working like I've never worked before. Evenings, weekends, traveling 7 weeks out of 8, doing the Evans streak of workaholism proud, kicking my butt to get everything done, learned, organized the needs way it needs to be. I want to talk about this more a little later. I've been balancing these full-to-bursting weeks with time to chat with, stare at, and watch TV with my handsome husband, and only just.
The second reason is something that I've come to view as characteristic of myself: when things are uncertain, I tend to do more watching quietly and much less talking/writing. There's a Dr. Suess line--"It's grey day, everything is grey. I watch, but nothing moves today."--that is sort of my mantra in these times. The issue, though, is less that nothing is moving, but that everything is. Moving, as I'm starting to see, and believe, in the right direction, but still unsteady, a little incomprehensible.
Finally, though, I feel like I've had a couple of good months of treasuring things in my heart. Where sometime silence is a sort of/sign of disempowerment, I feel like I've been generally quiet lately because so much of my effort is going toward understanding. I'm learning to know, love, trust, and appreciate James in new ways every day (even now, I'm getting teary thinking about it. Blame it on hormones if you must). I'm learning more about my body and the little body inside of me. I feel individual parts, now, his head keeping me from comfortably crossing my arms over my belly, his tiny slimy elbows sliding against my insides, his signature round-house that races like a weird comet under my skin. I'm getting more and more excited to meet this boy, excited to see the world through his eyes, to spend time staring at his perfect face.
And I'm learning some things about life. The kind of things you get to relearn a million times, and are just as painful/enlightening the first time as the next.
Work is a part of life. There will never be a time (not in the foreseeable future at least) when I will get as much sleep as I want. There will never be a time when I'm not worrying about money, about James, about what the best thing for my family is. This last 6 months have weighed heavy--too much to do, too many expectations (filled and unfillable)--and I've prayed or hoped to find an escape somehow and there is no escape. Not because I'm doing something wrong, but because this burden is the point. This work and worry is why I'm here, and hear me out on this one, the real lesson that I'm learning is that, as I come to accept that, the joy of the struggle becomes more evident. I focus less on how much I'd rather be doing anything else and more on the things I'm learning, the ways I'm supported and loved, I'm starting to make conscientious choices about how I react instead of stabbing blindly. And I'm starting to get my priorities sorted. This is all very new, and I don't think these small changes are evident to anyone else, but I'm starting to find peace in the place I am and I'm very grateful for that.
This weekend is beautiful. The temperature dove Thursday so I came home from a muggy Detroit to jacket weather. I'm sitting in our front room (sick tissues because my immune system decided that enough was enough, Conference snacks, and a Pack-n-Play full of tiny clothes and waaaay too many blankets (we may have overshot, Miss Anne, and I forgot about the 5 blankets already waiting for me), and diapers even) while James is at Priesthood enjoying the quiet and enjoying being home. I'll post something chattier tomorrow (with pictures if I get to them): Borscht, Books, and Breakfast.
keb
The second reason is something that I've come to view as characteristic of myself: when things are uncertain, I tend to do more watching quietly and much less talking/writing. There's a Dr. Suess line--"It's grey day, everything is grey. I watch, but nothing moves today."--that is sort of my mantra in these times. The issue, though, is less that nothing is moving, but that everything is. Moving, as I'm starting to see, and believe, in the right direction, but still unsteady, a little incomprehensible.
Finally, though, I feel like I've had a couple of good months of treasuring things in my heart. Where sometime silence is a sort of/sign of disempowerment, I feel like I've been generally quiet lately because so much of my effort is going toward understanding. I'm learning to know, love, trust, and appreciate James in new ways every day (even now, I'm getting teary thinking about it. Blame it on hormones if you must). I'm learning more about my body and the little body inside of me. I feel individual parts, now, his head keeping me from comfortably crossing my arms over my belly, his tiny slimy elbows sliding against my insides, his signature round-house that races like a weird comet under my skin. I'm getting more and more excited to meet this boy, excited to see the world through his eyes, to spend time staring at his perfect face.
And I'm learning some things about life. The kind of things you get to relearn a million times, and are just as painful/enlightening the first time as the next.
Work is a part of life. There will never be a time (not in the foreseeable future at least) when I will get as much sleep as I want. There will never be a time when I'm not worrying about money, about James, about what the best thing for my family is. This last 6 months have weighed heavy--too much to do, too many expectations (filled and unfillable)--and I've prayed or hoped to find an escape somehow and there is no escape. Not because I'm doing something wrong, but because this burden is the point. This work and worry is why I'm here, and hear me out on this one, the real lesson that I'm learning is that, as I come to accept that, the joy of the struggle becomes more evident. I focus less on how much I'd rather be doing anything else and more on the things I'm learning, the ways I'm supported and loved, I'm starting to make conscientious choices about how I react instead of stabbing blindly. And I'm starting to get my priorities sorted. This is all very new, and I don't think these small changes are evident to anyone else, but I'm starting to find peace in the place I am and I'm very grateful for that.
This weekend is beautiful. The temperature dove Thursday so I came home from a muggy Detroit to jacket weather. I'm sitting in our front room (sick tissues because my immune system decided that enough was enough, Conference snacks, and a Pack-n-Play full of tiny clothes and waaaay too many blankets (we may have overshot, Miss Anne, and I forgot about the 5 blankets already waiting for me), and diapers even) while James is at Priesthood enjoying the quiet and enjoying being home. I'll post something chattier tomorrow (with pictures if I get to them): Borscht, Books, and Breakfast.
keb
Sunday, August 12, 2012
The ususal.
So James is in Utah getting his analysis on. I'm glad he's got good momentum and so happy that he can spend some time with friends and family and really I've been gone the last 4 days out of 10 (which will look more like 15 out of 28 by the time the month is over), so I'm for the most part content. But of course I miss my husband. I know that people do this long term, and I guess we *could*, but I think this month is instilling the importance of not spending a month ever again if we can avoid it. He's so nice, is the thing. And fun to hang around. And do things with.
But despite the downer, this weekend has been pretty nice:
Friday I heard both Lando's heartbeat and his foot, I think, kicking at the dopler wand (it sounded like dropping/bumping a microphone. And like this little man has excellent aim). I got to eat Noodles with Amanda and commiserate about some things and lounge in companionable co-busy-ness.
Saturday I bought books at a yard sale and weeded our little garden (and got bitten by mosquitoes and did *not* get poison ivy after all). I spent some time on Pinterest (not so much that I wanted to puke) and used up some kale and oven roasted some corn.
The highlight of today was movie day w/my primary kids. I brought popcorn and mini bottles of root beer (which apparently is the very most direct way into a kids' heart) and got hugs and cheers. Sweet potato, thank you notes, laundry.
Tomorrow I leave for Phoenix where I will meet my long-lost husband (woot) and do some work things.
And that is the end. :)
But despite the downer, this weekend has been pretty nice:
Friday I heard both Lando's heartbeat and his foot, I think, kicking at the dopler wand (it sounded like dropping/bumping a microphone. And like this little man has excellent aim). I got to eat Noodles with Amanda and commiserate about some things and lounge in companionable co-busy-ness.
Saturday I bought books at a yard sale and weeded our little garden (and got bitten by mosquitoes and did *not* get poison ivy after all). I spent some time on Pinterest (not so much that I wanted to puke) and used up some kale and oven roasted some corn.
The highlight of today was movie day w/my primary kids. I brought popcorn and mini bottles of root beer (which apparently is the very most direct way into a kids' heart) and got hugs and cheers. Sweet potato, thank you notes, laundry.
Tomorrow I leave for Phoenix where I will meet my long-lost husband (woot) and do some work things.
And that is the end. :)
Thursday, August 2, 2012
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
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
Sunday, July 8, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
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.
This is what it looks like now:
Super win.
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