Richard and I went to the Salt Lake Arts Festival on Friday. It was pretty awesome. This sign sums up how I feel about art.
We had to take this photo in honor of a great friend of ours who has a particular pig fettish (but not a real fettish if you know what I mean). I guess you could call this picture "Swine Flew" (you had so better be laughing right now. I mean I am slapping my thigh I am so funny)
These sandals were made by a family of sandal makers. Apparently, the father of the company ran a 10k in 35 minutes in these sandals-- pretty impressive. All I know is, if Jesus were here on the earth right now, he would probably choose to wear these!

This is what Richard should have worn to our wedding-- it would have made things so much easier. But what would the bride hat look like?
This picture tells me that anyone can make their own art. I respect Jackson Pollock and Andy Warhol and other modern artists who showed us that art can be anything....but POPCORN. Really? I mean, I have been collecting lint in my laundrey room for the past two years, maybe I could do something with that and sell it. I would title it "left over lint" and then Richard and I could retire early!

This man is playing a chapman stick. Maybe that is where chapstick got its name?

All I can say is, I hope my kid is half as cool as this one-- check out his focus! Maybe the face paint helps him get into character. He is probably about to a short exerpt from "Madam Butterfly"
Flash flood! It was awesome. Who wants to go to a boring old arts festival with no rain. Not us! We ran into the library with the rest of the refugees.
Entertainment while we wait. This man is playing a diggery do (and not, that is not a term created on Seinfield-- it is an actual instrument). It kind of sounds like a foggy elephant!
Happiness is seeing a double rainbow for the price of one! One of my favorite books was called "I am in charge of celebrations" and one of the celebrations was triple rainbow day. Well, I hereby declare this "double rainbow after flash flood at the arts festival day." I was going to put in a picture of the food we ate (The Roses daily art), but we ate it-- its not here anymore. Sorry!

The Smorgasboard

This is an everything update. I don't have any pictures because our crappy point-and-shoot camera is without batteries that work, and our new Nikon D60 scares me with all of its buttons and dials, apertures and isotopes....

so just visualize....visualize a rainbow with strawberry mist....and now visualize yourself and me sitting in that mist, relaxing....Now you are ready for the rest of this update!

I went to our doctor on Friday and she checked my cervix. That means stripping down and exposing yourself in a way that I think I will never get used to. It prompted my question "so why did you choose this profession anyway?" If she was half as uncomfortable as I was (not likely) she would have run away and chosen a medical field where they look at slides all day or grow things in petri dishes.

Anyway, she told me that I am one centimeter dilated and that my cervix was 75% effaced, which apparently means it is thinning (at least some part of me is getting thinner).

I also asked her if she could reasonably guess (in my profession, reasonability is the measure of everything) how much the baby weighed. She said about 6 lbs, at which point I think I inadvertently swallowed my gum. "6 pounds, but I still have a month-- I AM GOING TO HAVE A 10 POUND BABY!!!"
She calmed me down and said that she guess the baby would probably have an average weight (at which point I looked at her incredulously--- there was nothing average about the size of my husband and I was no tiny cookie myself). I am expecting more of a female version of the incredible hulk-- only not so green. She also told me the baby's head was pointed down (and here I thought I had been talking to the baby's head, when really its been her butt)

I check my legs and ankles everyday. A coworker of mine told me that he wife's legs looked like christmas sausages weeks before she gave birth. So I check everyday-- so far no Christmas sausages.

Names: people keep asking us if we have a name, to which Richard responds "No!" (quite vehemently in fact). I calmly respond that we have a spreadsheet (No, "Excel" will not be her name!) with the top five names being given a number on a scale between 1 and 100 that takes into account such factors such as popularity, classicality (is that a word?), odds that she will be embarrassed the first time a teacher tries to pronounce and/or spell her name in 7th grade (the beginning of the dark years, in my estimation), potential bad rhyming combinations (why no boy should ever be named Chuck), and likelihood that she will ask for a formal name change when and if she decides to become a senator (and no, we are NOT considering the name Hillary).

The top 5 names in order of current numerical rank are:
Anna: 90
Elizabeth: 80
Laura: 80
Abigail: 78
Allison: 75

Anna is my particular favorite. I like palendromes!

In other news:
Richard passed the first section of the CPA exam (92 out of 100-- thats my boy!)
Our first father's day today-- I made his southwestern egg rolls which are uniquely named because there are no eggs in them (more about Richard's strange aversions to eggs later)
Farmer's market yesterday: I was optimistically clothed in shorts before all hail broke loose with the weather. But 2 lbs of cherries made me right as rain :)

Why Parents Really do Save or Destroy the World

Lately I have been trying to prepare myself for motherhood and what I thought would be the inevitable discouragement that would follow from not feeling like I was contributing to the world in any way. Last week changed my mind....and I will tell you why!

Last week we had a preliminary hearing in our courtroom for 5 separate cases and 50 total counts of aggravated sexual abuse of a child/sodomy upon a child. The perpetrator was a mild looking man in his mid-forties-- harmless looking. He had made friends with each one of these boys who had ranged in age from 10 to 15. Some of them were neighbors and some he had befriended while at the local rec center. He made friends with them, then offered them work, and then invited them over to his house for the night...

As each child testified I began to see a common theme. Most of them came from broken homes and some had already experienced some kind of child abuse in their lives. Most of them lived in trailers and were very poor (which in part explained why so many of them were willing to accept employment from this man). One boy had been kicked out of his own home by his stepfather when he didn't put up with the stepfather's abuse of the boy's mother. Some of these boys were now going to alternative high schools because they had failed so many classes or had been expelled from their regular school. Many of them were now into pornography.

One of the boys, during testimony stated "when I disobeyed my dad I got a beating, but thats like how all kids are...."

As sickened as it made me, I felt resolved toward my own changing status of a mother. I know that I can't control everything that happens to my children and I know that I cannot protect them from everything. But I know I can provide a good home for them and provide for their physical needs. I can help them to feel safe and secure within their own family. I can teach them what is right and provide love and encouragement. I can be the kind of parent where my children will not look outside of their own family for stability and structure and happiness.

I thought, "if these boys had first had a good home, and parents who were attentive...who knows what might have been avoided."

I now know that parents do change the world, in a way that is more far reaching than anything I have ever done in the law or through my education. I can save the world...for my children and any others I can reach!

How pregnant women really spend their time

Richard caught me unawares in this picture. There I was minding my own business, finishing off the brownie batter when he snapped it. At least he didn't get me mid-lick!

ZIP

Hello from Zions National Park! We traveled down during Memorial Day weekend with some of our buddies-- the Gunnells (sans Chase), the Wrights, and the Simonsens. Richard is not in any of these pictures, unfortunately, because he was being diligent studying for the CPA exam.

I like doing self-portraits. This one is of me! I like that Miles and Kendra are posing in the background for a real photo. This picture was taken at one of the emerald pools. They are not very emerald looking, but still very pretty.

Christy made friends with the wildlife in Zions. She met a caterpillar that she named Henry or something like that, and she had a brief relationship with this squirrel who wanted some of our food.

Christy Gunnell and I down by the river (but not in a van, and definitely NOT with Matt Foley).

I don't even know what to say with this picture. Mark is like an energizer bunny or like Richard Simmons. He likes to wear headbands-- a child of the 80's, you know! Kendra and Miles had finally had it after about 6 hours of hiking, but we ate very well on the trail, thanks to them.

YOu can always count on running into people you know while in Zions. This is the Kay family from our very own 62nd ward.


Now THIS is the picture they should put on pas-a-long cards to advertise eternal families! And why-- because Zions in the celestial kingdom and we are all going to be wearing headbands in heaven. By the way, Boston Simonsen (the bald one) is the reason why Richard and I had the courage to start having a family. The highlight of the weekend was getting to spend time with this cool little guy!


The girl picture-- Christy, me, Natasha, and Kendra. Oh, and little rosebud of course (she's the one in the stomach!)

Our Decision to Hypnobirth!

So I was going to post pictures from our trip to St. George/Zions National Park tonight (just a week and a half late, thats all), but the batteries in our camera are dead, and the forty or so other AA batteries lying around our house also seem to be dead (we can't be the only people who seem to collect these energizer gems. I don't know if we think that someday they will resurrect themselves, but we can't seem to throw them away).

So I thought I explain a little about why we are doing hypnobirthing instead of the normal medicated approach to labor/birth.

The main reason: FEAR.

I know that seems counterintuitive. Isn't that why women get epidurals in the first place-- they fear the pain and discomfort of labor/contractions/pushing something the size of a watermelon out of a hole the size of a lemon......
I have been fearing the birth process for as long as I was able to distinguish that I was girl who had those capabilities. Like some impending doom I imagined this self imposed torture. I thought about adoption or getting someone else to have the baby for me (it would be awesome if Richard could do it-- and I have suggested this to him several times and he seems to think that won't work), but then I thought "I already have the equipment, might as well..."

Then, I got pregnant, and I felt like like a ticking time bomb. It was just a matter of time until that alien inside of me would want out, and then what would I do? She can't stay in there forever, and I would kind of like to meet her....but does that require an actual physical birthing? I've seen Star Trek, why can't someone just "beem her up!"

Anyway, I thought about it, and with all the fears I had, I also was firmly convinced that God considers birth a good thing. God also loves me. I figured that these two ideas didn't have to be mutually exclusive, and I figured that there had to be a way to have a really good birth experience. That is where hypnobirthing comes into the picture! It sounds weird, but what it stands for is the position that childbirth is natural and woman have been doing it for thousands of years, without a lot of help. We must be equipped in some way to handle this. The thing is that we have developed this deep seated fear of birthing, in part becaues every movie ever made which portrays childbirth has the mother grabbing her husband and screaming into his face "YOU DID THIS TO ME. I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU. GIVE ME THE DRUGS!" and there is generally a lot of screaming. NO wonder we fear childbirth.

well, you know what that fear does to us? The moment we go into labor, we tense up, grit our teeth and go into "fight or flight" emergency mode. so all the blood goes away from where it is supposed to be (the uterus, the heart, the head) and goes into our arms and feet. Well, no wonder those contractions hurt! Your body is having to fight against itself to even get that baby even near being born! If women can get themselves to relax (and I mean REALLY relax) and think in positive thoughts where fear doesn't enter, the body can do its thing, the baby will come more quickly and easily, and there will be less need for medical intervention. Heck, in a lot of other cultures, the mom just squats, catches the baby, and goes on her merry way. Why not me!

so thats the theory. In practice, it is hard not to succumb to all those negative emotions we give childbirth. As my teacher told me, we go to baby showers where we sit the new mother in a corner, barricade her with gifts so she can't get out, and then we tell her horror stories about how bad and painful giving birth can be. Its not wonder we don't all need therapy.

But don't worry. We are still having this baby in a hospital with a doctor. We believe in modern medicine and even though women have been having babies for thousands of years, they also died a lot more frequently thousands of years ago as well. Hopefully, if all goes well, the doctor will just be there to say "good job Rachael! heres your bill!"

I have also told Richard that I reserve the right to change my mind at ANY time. But I might as well go in with the attitude that my body CAN do this. AFter all, if I can run marathons, I can have a baby. Why underestimate myself in this one thing!

I will sure let you all know how it goes!

Confessions......

I never got my Young Womanhood Recognition Award!

I know...blasphemy, inconceivable, cast out to outer darkness.

I just never liked personal progress. Its not that I didn't participate, its just that I dragged my feet so much that I wore grooves into the floor. So I never completed the required projects and just resigned myself to being one of the untouchables of the lower caste of underachievers. I would watch other girls receive and wear their pendant necklaces proudly, knowing that I would never know that feeling.

Funny thing is, a few years later, after I had graduated and served a mission, I came back to my home ward for a visit, and there on the wall was a plaque honoring all the young women in the ward who had earned their Young Woman Recognition Award. To my surprise my name was engraved along with other girls who I knew had earned the honor. Now, my memory of high school is pretty bad.....but it can't be THAT bad. Oh well.

Richard also did not get his Eagle Scout Award. So there you have it. A couple of non-conformists who may or may not lead their children down their same path of destruction.