not an easy subject

Okay, I'm just gonna come out and say it. I'm struggling. So many of my friends and family members are either having babies or have just had babies recently, and while I'm happy for them, it's not easy for me. Ross and I wanted our kids to be roughly 2 years apart (and before you judge, remember that I didn't have a child until I was 25), so I went off birth control last summer. It took us a few months to get pregnant with Gabe, but not this long. We've been wanting/trying to get pregnant for 11+ months now, and although I try to put on a strong face, it's really starting to wear me down. I went to my OB/GYN and they put me on Clomid for a while, but because I didn't get pregnant within a certain amount of time, they took me off of it and sent me to a fertility specialist. I scheduled an appointment for the next available date, which was a few weeks away, but when that day rolled around I just couldn't do it. I called and canceled. It would've been a $240 consultation visit, and I was terrified that I'd walk away from that visit with no answers. I know that Heavenly Father has it all worked out, but here I am, 11 months later, wondering what I'm doing wrong. Or maybe what I'm not doing right? I don't know. I just know that I'm sad. My heart wants another child, to give Gabe a sibling, to fill our lives with more chaos and joy. I'm trying to have faith. I'm trying to remember that I'm not in control. I don't know what the future brings, and maybe that's why I'm left doubting. My patriarchal blessing tells me that I was brought to this earth to "become a righteous mother in Israel." Well, I really hope Gabe won't be the only child to help me fulfill that, because heaven knows I've screwed up a lot. He's the first child... most oldest children are lucky to survive childhood as their parents figure out how to be parents. I wish I could wave a magic wand and know why we haven't been able to conceive. I wish that my faith was strong enough to keep me from doubting.

Every day that passes, I watch my sweet son and feel gratitude that he is ours. I'm grateful that I can hold him and sing with him and be his mommy. My love for him is so intense, and I just hope I'm given the opportunity to share that love again. I guess time will tell...

*T

family update

Things happen quickly in our family, so here's a little update. We were in Virginia for most of April visiting family (Ross' entire family and my sister and her fam) and we had so much fun! It's hard not living closer to them, so when we're there, we really make the most of it. I still need to download pics, so once I do, I'll post them. Ross and I spent our anniversary and his birthday out there, which also happened to be Easter Sunday this year. It was nice to be with his family for a few celebrations, especially since Grammy was very willing to take Gabe for a couple days so Ross and I could go to the beach for our anniversary. Virginia Beach is only 2 hours away from his parent's house, so it made for a nice getaway for us. We went to the aquarium and visited the naval base just up the road from our hotel. We also made a quick stop at the HUGE outlet mall in Williamsburg, and I was glad Ross brought an extra suitcase to pack with all the stuff we acquired during our visit:) Ross wasn't able to be with us the entire time Gabe and I were there because of work... which leads me to my next update...

So, remember how Ross is an incredible tenor and graduated in Music Education? And remember how he did his student teaching at a middle school and really didn't like it? And the starting teacher salary for Utah is a whopping $26K... pretty unbelievable, eh? Well, Ross was working at Pinnacle Security to pay the bills until he could find a teaching job, but Pinnacle was really holding him back and he wasn't happy with what he was doing. He'd come home with headaches every day and he didn't love going to work. We prayed about his job situation, and while we were in the midst of the storm, we received a great offer that was the silver lining we needed. Does this logo/name look familiar?

My dad is the owner of Stratus Insurance, and he offered Ross a job doing some product marketing. Ross has had quite a bit of experience making sales and being on the phone and working with people, and he is overall just a very trustworthy person. Well, the product he's been marketing is doing really well, and he's catching on to the whole insurance thing quickly. In fact, he had 5 days to study for his insurance exam (which is very difficult and something that people usually study for for weeks or months), and he passed it on the first try! I was so proud of him when I got that phone call (since I was in VA). He likes his work environment and his coworkers, and he's really enjoying the work he's doing at Stratus. My biggest fear with Ross taking the job was that I thought he would be wasting his incredible talent in music. I know he loves singing and performing, and I didn't want him to take a job to pay the bills NOW and then regret that choice twenty years down the road. However, Ross has realized that he can work at Stratus and still be involved in music. There are auditions for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir this summer, as well as auditions for the Salt Lake Choral Artists. In fact, the SLCA has gone to several international choir competitions and come home with a handful of 1st place prizes. So basically, Ross will still be involved in music. He'll still be able to feed his desire for performance while also providing for his family, and I'm very proud of him for making the decision he did. It was not an easy one, but our prayers have definitely been answered!

And speaking of prayers being answered...

... we're moving!!! It's actually not a big deal since we're just moving upstairs, but it was a miracle for us. We're in a 2 bedroom apartment right now, and we're REALLY needing more space. Gabe's room is stuffed to the gills (largely due to his teensy closet), and our master bedroom is also a studio and an office. I despise moving, and although we looked at some houses, we realized that we're not quite to the point where we can buy yet... but we need more space! Just last week I told Ross "the only way we're moving is if one of our three neighbors moves out of their 3 bedroom apartment." Well, just last week I saw our upstairs neighbor carrying several boxes. To make a long story short, she's due in July with her 3rd child and refuses to haul 3 kids up and down the stairs. They're moving to another building in our same complex and we're moving into their apartment on June 1st! Our manager didn't even have the apartment up for availability when I called to tell her we wanted it, so we're re-signing our lease and we'll have 1450 square feet in 2 weeks! I am SO excited to have more space, MUCH bigger closets, an extra bedroom, and nobody above us:) Our prayers were heard and they've definitely been answered, and for that I am so grateful.

Now you're updated and now I'll end this painfully long post (thanks for sticking with me...). Until next time, amici!

*T

follow your nose

As my sweet hubby could tell you, I have the nose of a bloodhound. I've always had a very sensitive sense of smell, and most of my memories have some kind of scent attached to them. We can all picture a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies and know exactly how they smell. Most of us choose our soap or body wash according to how it smells instead of if it's pretty or not. Mothers know the scent of their children. Do you remember the scent of your elementary school? Or your mom's perfume? Here are a few of my favs:

Whenever I smell this deodorant, it brings back memories of one of the happiest, most carefree times of my life. I bought it during our honeymoon to the Bahamas, and smelling it reminds me of our beach house and the sound of the waves against our dock.

If you read my post about Trieste, I talked about the Piazza Unita. Welp, this is it. Looking at this picture, I can literally smell the coffee wafting out of the cafe's and the slight hint of salt in the air as the breeze comes in from the Mediterranean. Oh, what I'd give to be there right now!

This is an Italian panatteria, or bake shop. I can't even describe the deliciousness of one of these places. It's just one of those things that should be on your bucket list... "experience a panatteria." Divine.

This may sound weird, but I smell Gabe all day long. Ever since he was a newborn, he's had the sweetest baby scent that is my favorite smell in the world. It's not the 'fresh out of the bathtub' scent, but it's just HIM. His skin and his hair and even his breath. I love it!

I don't even have to say anything about this picture. Can't you just smell it?

Heavenly Father sure knew what He was doing :)

*T

and it came to pass...

Okay, so Gabe's not quite 2 yet... but the Terrible Two's have definitely begun. I don't even want to think about the tantrums we've had in our house this week. I lost count after about 50. It has been a very difficult, stressful week, especially since Gabe is recovering from a nasty case of RSV. I'm trying to be patient. I'm trying to be understanding. I remind myself constantly that I love my child more than life itself... I just don't like this phase. He continues to do the same naughty things every day, even when we've told him countless times not to do them. He knows there are consequences, but he crosses the line anyway. And then, when we tell him 'no', he FREAKS OUT. He throws the typical tantrum; screaming, flailing on the ground, weeping, wailing, gnashing of teeth. You know what I'm talking about. My sister suggested that I start putting him in time-out, which will require patience on my part. I can just imagine how time-out will work for my almost-21-month old, but I'm desperate for a breakthrough at this point. As for now, I'm living for the moments when he's happy and funny and cute. He really is a sweet little boy, and he makes us laugh all the time. I love him like I've never loved anyone before, so please don't think any different. Do, however, feel free to share any ideas you may have for dealing with this lovely time in my toddler's life:) I'm open for suggestions!

*T

Time in Trieste

I've been wanting to write down some of my travel memories for a while, and I figure that some of them are interesting enough to share. My parents gave us some wonderful travel opportunities, and one of my favorite places to visit just happens to be my namesake. My dad served his mission in Padova, Italy, and Trieste was his favorite city. It's a port about two hours up the coast from Venice, and it is, to me, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Trieste not only hugs the Adriatic, but it's nestled against the mountains and is only 15 minutes from the Slovenia border. It is one of the most interesting places I've visited, as it has a castle, a university, an incredible plaza and fountain surrounded by old government buildings and quaint cafes, Italy's sole concentration camp, and some awesome shopping venues and restaurants. I've visited Trieste three times, and the last time I went I stayed for half a summer. One of my favorite memories happened one weekend when we went to the Piazza Unita (the main plaza). Trieste was celebrating its 50th anniversary of being freed from Austrian rule, which came about because the Alpini, or "Alpine soldiers," fought for Trieste's freedom. About 50,000 people came to Trieste to celebrate over this anniversary weekend, and several thousand were Alpini soldiers, both young and old. Alpini are easy to find since they all wear their signature felt hats with a long eagle feather on one side. They are known for their love of singing and drinking, and they usually do both quite well:) This particular Saturday, we (me and my Italian "family") were walking down a side alley to get to the plaza. It was crowded because there were so many tourists visiting the city, but it was a beautiful day and we were taking our time. I noticed a 60ish-year old, rather overweight Alpini walking towards us, and as he sang loudly and stumbled a bit, it was obvious that he'd had a few drinks already. We gave him a wide berth, but he then started walking right towards me. Before I could step out of his way, this man literally walked into me and wrapped both arms tightly around my torso, pinning my arms to my side. He started singing again, swaying back and forth and kissing my neck and telling me how beautiful I was. The couple I was living with were mortified and tried to pry this guy's arms off me, but he was a happy drunk and didn't want to let go. My little Nonna (Italian grandma... about 4'11" and 100 pounds) was tugging on my hand and asking the guy to let me go. My Nonno (Italian grandpa, very loving but very protective) was trying to talk this guy into letting me go. After what seemed like an eternity, the man loosened his grip... but before I could squirm out of his arms, he kissed me several times on the neck and gave my bum a little smack. So here I was, a tall, strawberry blonde, green eyed American in Italy (aka I stood out like a sore thumb), and I was so overwhelmed by what had just happened that all I could do was laugh. My Nonni were just relieved that this guy finally let go of me, and once I stopped laughing, we continued toward the plaza. It wasn't but two minutes later that we entered the massive plaza and ran smack into a group of about fifteen young Alpini. These soldiers were my age (early twenties), and lemme tell ya, they were high on life! They were singing and laughing and having a good ol' time... and then they stopped when we came into the plaza. I've never felt more self-conscious in my life because they were staring at ME. A few of them actually pointed! I couldn't figure out why I was suddenly a specimen, but one brave soldier came up to me, put his arm around my shoulders, stuck his face just inches from mine, and said "Mamma mia! Che bell'occhi!" or "holy cow, what beautiful eyes!" My poor Nonni... they were standing close to me, making sure we didn't have another neck-kissing, bum-grabbing drunk man on our hands. But these young guys were awesome! I felt like a celebrity! Within seconds of the beautiful eye comment, I had guys surrounding me, wanting to take a picture with me and inviting me to spend the day with them. Between shouts of "you're so beautiful!" and "will you be my girlfriend?!", I was being yanked on one arm by these testosterone-filled Alpini while my Nonna held firm to my other arm. I was blushing and flustered and giddy that I'd had more male attention in the last 5 minutes than I'd had all my life (stupid American men...), and finally my sweet Nonno stepped in and invited the young soldiers to enjoy their day, as I would spend the rest of my day with my 'family'. I don't remember much else of what happened that day since I was on Cloud 9, and my Nonni kept having to reel me back to reality. We shopped, we saw some friends, we took pictures, we ate gelato, and after a few hours, we began the walk back to the car. As we were about to cross the plaza, two Alpini on a tandem bike came into view and it was clear that they were happily buzzed and singing at the top of their lungs. We were walking towards them, and as I watched them I realized that the soldier riding in front was also watching me. He steered the bike toward me and began singing loudly about "la Bella Bionda", the beautiful blonde. We had been walking in the middle of the street, so when the Alpini reached us, they began riding in circles around me and continued singing to me. Once again, I felt like a movie star. Remember, these are ITALIAN MEN literally falling at my feet. I thought I'd wake up from a beautiful dream at any moment, but it was very real! The Alpini sang loudly until their song was over, and as they rode away they both blew me a kiss. People who'd witnessed the scene began clapping and, for the umpteenth time that day, I blushed. My Nonna grabbed my hand, and in playful exasperation she scolded me and told me they would leave me at home next time. I could've died happy at that moment... I'd had men drooling over me all day and I never felt endangered. These men were not perverts hoping to get lucky. They were happy Italians who made this Americana feel like one lucky gal. Even the first drunk Alpini was non-threatening. He was just a happy drunk who had no concept of personal space and told a woman (while kissing her neck...) that she was beautiful. I will forever remember my introduction to the Alpini with fondness, and it's a story I will tell for the rest of my life. Even my Nonni remind me of 'that one time when the Alpini loved me.' I've not had an experience since that even comes close to making me feel the way I did that day. It still puts a smile on my face!

*T

stereotype

(Disclaimer: This post is not meant to offend or point fingers. I am stating what's on my mind (aka I'm venting) because I feel like I may not be the only one who feels this way.)

So, I live in Utah... "The Greatest Snow on Earth", "The Beehive State", "The Mormon Bubble", etc., etc. There are so many things I love about this place; the mountains, the awesome summers, the skiing, how close we live to the temple, and not to mention the incredible network of friends and family that we have so close to us. Utah is our home for now, and I will appreciate that. However, there is one thing about this great state that I do NOT appreciate, and that is stereotype. What I'm going to say might sound harsh to your ears, but please remember that these are my feelings. In a nutshell, I am not a blonde, size 4, gourmet cooking, interior decorating, quilt making, award-winning blogging Superperfectmom. Phew. There's my confession. And I am so SICK of the expectation that that is exactly what I should be. I've never before felt the pressure for perfection like I've felt here. And quite honestly, it boggles my mind that I feel inadequate sometimes when I'm surrounded by these Superperfectmoms, because I'm a great person! I constantly have to remind myself that not everyone speaks 3 languages or has served a mission or has a college degree or has traveled to 15 countries or is temple worthy. And before you judge, I am NOT bragging... I'm simply stating that I've done some pretty cool things with my life and I shouldn't feel inadequate just because I don't make bread from scratch! Why do I feel like, in order to 'fit in', I should not only look cute and fashionable all the time, but I should be a pro at everything? I should take my 24 hour day and feed the hungry, knit a sweater, cook an amazing meal for not only my family but the gal downstairs who just had a baby, run a 10k, teach my 20-month old how to read, maintain a perfectly clean, beautifully decorated house, read my scriptures for an hour, and invent some cute craft that I can sell on etsy and make enough money to support my mani/pedi obsession... right?

WRONG.

I am not a Superperfectmom, but I am a super mom. Not Supermom, just a super mom. And wife. I provide the emotional and (hopefully) spiritual support for my hard-working husband and sweet little boy. Sometimes the house is clean, sometimes it's not. Sometimes I'm really proud of my culinary creations, other times we enjoy grilled cheese and tomato soup. I don't sew, I don't scrapbook, I occasionally blog but I've never been published, I'm sure as heck not a size 4, my hair color is NATURAL, and I still wear the same clothes that I've had since 2005 (gasp!). Sometimes I'm tired and I let Gabe watch Dora the Explorer all morning, but he knows who Jesus is and he can say his prayers and point out the temple when we drive by it. He has an incredible vocabulary for a boy his age because we work diligently with him on communicating. I know that my husband and son feel loved because I tell them and show them all day long. I have to give myself some credit, because if I don't, my lack of stereotype will be the death of me. I'm learning to accept that I'm not that Superperfectmom, but with 1 in 5 Utah women on antidepressants, why would I want to be? I'm just me, take it or leave it.

*T

a cute boy, a birthday present, and some fish

I feel like my life really isn't all that interesting to blog about. We stay busy, but it's the everyday stuff... Ross goes to work, Gabe and I play and read books and I try to teach him how to clean up his ENDLESS messes, I do some work for my dad and (try to) keep the house in order, and when Ross comes home we eat dinner and try to catch up on Modern Family. I know people who have kids blog about their kids, but I don't want to be one of 'those moms' that can only talk about the amazing achievements of her offspring. Don't get me wrong... Gabe is pretty much the most amazing kid I know and I love talking about him, but I can keep a conversation going without talking about him.

Anyway, our 2011 has been interesting so far. We've either been sick or, well, sick, and I finally had my tonsils out in January (I did NOT enjoy my birthday this year... it was spent in bed and in PAIN!). I can easily say that it was the WORST thing I've ever gone through. It's been almost 4 weeks since the surgery and I'm still not 100%. In fact, the doc says I'm a week behind most patients, with is due in part to my age. It's not an easy recovery for anyone, let alone a 27 year old (the recovery usually takes longer if you're not a kid). I still can't yawn or take more than 2-3 swallows of water at a time, but at least I can eat and talk, both of which were very difficult for a good 2 weeks. The doc accidentally knicked my uvula during the surgery and it's still swollen, but at least he didn't accidentally remove that too :) Ross has a severe sinus infection that spread to his ear (he spent Valentine's Day in bed sipping chamomile tea), and Gabe is recovering from a nasty virus that turned into a deep, lingering cough. And amidst all the germs, I've caught a yucky cold and am thinking of buying stock in Kleenex. We've gone through so many tissues in the last month, it's unbelievable. However, today was gorgeous and almost 60 degrees, and I did some deep cleaning and had all the windows open to air everything out. Hopefully the germs are gone and we can recover! I've never been so ready for Spring! We just need to move to Jamaica. That would solve all our health problems...

And now, on to the part most of you are probably looking for anyway: pictures! It's okay, I realize that most people don't read my ramblings and just look for the good stuff. So here it is...

Our old bookshelf was literally falling apart, so Ross got me a new one for my birthday. Thank you babes! I love it!

Gabe has 2 new roommates, Benny and Joon. Aren't they cute?!

What mom doesn't have a picture of a spaghetti-covered child? We had to scrub him to get the orange stain off his skin, but he loved making a mess.


Look at that face. Pure joy.

I let Gabe play one morning while I made breakfast, but realized I hadn't heard him for several minutes (doesn't your heart drop when that happens?). I walked into our bedroom and he was hanging out on our bed, playing the Animal Sounds game on my phone. Kids these days... technology is in their blood!

And again, a few minutes later. Still gaming...

Look at that cute face. This was right before bathtime, and he was just chillin on the recliner. I love those juicy little lips!

Time to take some Nyquil and read Vampire Academy:) I figure it was just a matter of time before my sister beat me over the head to get me to start reading them... (love you sizzle!).

*T