A Scalpel Saved Our Marriage

I know it's been a while. We've been up to a lot. Some of which is explained below.

Ah, weddings. You plan and plan, and for a while you seem to know more about mail-order napkins than your fiance's favorite color. The big day comes and hopefully it's filled with family, happiness, music, good wishes, and shaking your butt to "Whatta Man" at your wedding reception.

On to the honeymoon, perhaps to some place you've never been before, and the first night you're sleeping together (and, ahem, actually sleeping) you start to notice little things about the other person's night habits. The one thing I noticed during that time was that my shiny new spouse had issues with sleeping. Meh, no matter. We were in love and snuggly and starting a new life together, right? Nothing was going to disrupt our honeymoon phase that was destined to last until the Second Coming. Except that every subsequent night I began to wonder how long this earth life was actually going to last because Ted sounded like he was about to die multiple deaths.

I very sweetly mentioned this issue to him a few times, but he dismissed it. His reasoning was that if no one (parents, roommates, mission companions, Salma Hayek) had ever told him before that he was holding his breath and gagging during the night, it must not be true and I must be imagining things. Yes, this was MY problem, people.

Until I got pregnant. Then it was the world's problem. I got more and more frustrated about my lack of sleep in the first place, then combined with not being able to go back to sleep because of a certain spouse's snoring, and don't get me started on when baby #1 and then baby #2 actually got here and let's just say buh-bye to sleep altogether. I finally convinced him at one point to just "get checked out" and to his credit, he did, and he didn't even grumble about it. He had to spend the night at a sleep center hooked up to all sorts of who-knows-what, and the diagnosis: normal people's brains "wake up" about 5x per hour. Not a full wake-up, just normal patterns as your brain goes through its sleeping cycles. Ted's brain was waking up 36 times. Per hour. That's waking up more than once every other minute!! Basically, it was one of the worst cases of sleep apnea they'd ever seen. So they prescribed a CPAP. It was heaven for me, hell for him. He'd rip it off subconsciously in the middle of the night, so we were back to the same ol' antics and square one.

It was so bad during pregnancy #2 and post-baby #2 that Ted just took to sleeping in our guest bed every night. Despite the feeling that we were roommates and not lovers (kinky), it worked wonders with catching up on sleep. I got a full night (well, once Dean started sleeping through the night, which didn't happen until a few months ago) and he didn't wake up worrying if I was starting my day off ticked because I hadn't gotten enough winks.

Time to try something else.

A few months ago Ted went in for a consultation about his tonsils. They were massive. He was scheduled for a tonsillectomy on Sept 8, so my very pregnant friend came to babysit while I went to the hospital with Ted. The surgery went fine, but the recovery was awful for him. I had to do some major stocking up on ice cream. He winced over every bite. The doctor said it was going to "hurt like hell", and he wasn't kidding. Ted just plain ol' didn't want to bother eating because it hurt so bad, so he lost 10 pounds. I think I found them.

A month later, we went on a little weekend trip to the Outer Banks, a popular NC vacation spot and one of the points of interest for Hurricane Irene back in August (the 27th to be exact. I remember because I helped throw a baby shower that day -oh, for that very pregnant friend mentioned above- and my hair was a mess). So there we were, glowing in the aftermath of a BYU win over the Utah State Aggies - still trying to figure out how they did it - and I realized I hadn't heard Ted snore once the night before. See, we hadn't been sleeping in the same bed for months, more than a year, actually, so I'd forgotten about the various noises. Before I said anything, though, and jinxed it, I thought I'd sleep through another night. Same result. Could it be????


Fast forward to a couple weeks ago, which was also a couple weeks after this little trip. Dean, the worst sleeping child we've ever had, was up to his same old tricks and it was driving us batty, so Ted took matters into his own hands and just stuck him in the office/sewing/guest room, no discussion, to just let him cry and reduce our frustration. Which means Ted had nowhere to sleep except....our bed.

And I'm happy to report that the only thing that bothers me now is how small a queen is when there's another body in it. But no noises - no gagging, no breath-holding, no choking, not even a snore. Just nice, even, deeeeeep sleep breathing.... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Thank you a million times over, Dr Snip-its at Duke Hospital. You have no idea what you've done for us.

Oh, I forgot to mention that the main reason his tonsils were massive in the first place was because when we were engaged, he um, contracted mono from me. What can I say? I'm a giver.

Valentine's Day 2011

Ted was very sentimental in his annual Valentine's card to me. He was sweet in his words and his gift-giving, watching me unwrap things I absolutely wanted (a candy mold! Barefoot Contessa's newest cookbook! An etsy crochet pattern!), and I gave him fabulous food in his belly (can't argue with Chicken & Dumplings and a Bittersweet Chocolate Torte), a gorgeous new orchid plant, and these:

Can I be any more direct?

I know my mother-in-law reads this blog, but I'm okay with it. Becky, if you don't know me by now...

huge family concern

I made breakfast burritos this morning. They were quite good, if I do say so myself. Tessa and I were eating happily, and I had set aside Ted's for when he got done getting ready. We recently discussed how he had become a little bit burnt out on cold cereal every morning, so I figured he'd be pretty excited to have something different.

He came downstairs and saw what I was eating. He hesitated, then said, "I'm fasting today..."

I paused mid-bite to wait for the reason, admiring his tenacity when eggy, meaty, cheesy goodness was right in front of him. In all seriousness he continued,

"...that Bristol Palin doesn't win Dancing with the Stars."

Do you think we're perhaps a bit too invested? Nah....

5/12ths of the way through

Now that Ted's almost halfway through this semester, I thought I'd post the 2010 version of the first day of school. Dean's very proud of his daddy, and has the outfit to prove it. Our own blue devil's threads came in the mail courtesy of Christy, who refashioned it from her husband's pre-loved t-shirt. Apparently, she's had the shirt in her stash for years, waiting for the perfect project for it, then along came our mutual friend's tutorial on making a newborn gown from a t-shirt, and then her absolute best friend in the whole wide world (moi) makes a move to NC because her husband chose Duke. Then they had another baby. It was like the stars aligned. I put him in this gown constantly. I loves.

And here's the 2009 version of the absolute First day of law school, which I don't think I ever got around to posting last year.

We were still homesick, hence the Caltech gear. Also, we're not on the same page as many Southerners here, who have half their closets full of North Carolina college gear the second their lease is signed. It's nuts.

For next year's first day of school, there will not be an additional child. But perhaps we can have both our current ones in the same photo. I forget there was a time when there was only ONE roll in Tessa's thighs.

Being a mom kicks butt

Last year's breakfast by Ted: crepes and bacon. That's what I'm talkin' about.



I know there are women out there who hate Mother's Day for whatever their reasons (my own mother doesn't like it because she's never handled unbridled and insincere affection very well), but I tell ya, I love it.

We did a little revamping of Mother's and Father's Days this year because of money constraints and to change the focus from feeling like "I gave you a gift - what more do you want?" to "You mean so much to me and I don't just want to tell you, I want to show you." To be fair, we have never been so callous to each other as to have the "what more do you want?" attitude, but I really just wanted the day to focus on service and appreciation more than material things.

Ted did not disappoint.

I consider Mother's Day as spanning the weekend, so Saturday we spent at home together. We had company coming into town (not our own company - the father and brother of a friend in the ward needed a place to crash for the night before his graduation), so I had a loooooooong to-do list written out and after I made a breakfast of bacony eggs and seasoned hash browns (which I finally got right) we started to tackle it. I knew Ted had a Sunday night deadline for future job prospect interviews that he had to focus on, but instead, he took a look at my list and started in on it as well. He took the hardest jobs/projects - cleaning the entire guest bathroom on hands and knees because he knew I'd get major heartburn and poisonous fume effects if I attempted it myself, and tackling the bookshelf in the guest room that had become overrun with all the "stuff" you put someplace because there's nowhere else to put it.

He organized it, then went a step further by putting pictures in books, finding old postcards to put into empty frames, finding nails, hammer and measuring tape in order to hang said frames, putting all dangerous stab-a-kid's-eye-out objects one shelf higher, reorganized all the sewing tools that had accumulated onto the sewing table and moved all computer-related accoutrements to where we keep the computer (usually - it is a laptop, after all). Meanwhile, I switched out all the clothes Tessa's too fat for, put those into bins, and brought out the next batch. No one ever told me about that part of being a mom. I guess I knew babies grow and therefore, their wardrobes must change, but I didn't connect the two with the fact that I would have to do the changing. I think it's my least favorite part of being a mom because every article of clothing requires a decision, which is a pain. But I did it. For Mother's Day.

We washed sheets, made the bed, tidied up the room, brought out towels, stashed the stuff we didn't have time for into Tessa's room, hid the R-rated movies and yarn pile (equally sinful to some), and I finally got to making dinner at around 7pm. The only problem is that I had started brining a turkey boob the night before and HAD to cook it, but since it had to roast about 2 hours, I feared we were going to be eating as the company walked in the door.

I was right.

Thankfully, they were as low-maintenance and kind as can be, so all my anxiety and stress was for naught. Ted is a wonderful sounding board to my stress levels (aka "bitching"), so he heard his share of earfuls yesterday. It didn't help that I was pretty darn grumpy and Tessa had developed a fever and rash from her vaccines the day before.

Ted made breakfast this morning. It's pictured below. It has "Ted's doing" written all over it: orchid that he's kept alive since my birthday (Feb), 10 orange segments all in perfect rows, his mom's fabulous German pancake recipe baked to perfection on his very first solo try, every available sauce in our fridge to put on said pancakes (homemade strawberry jam and chocolate sauce not pictured), BACON (wasn't off the stove quite yet, and actually, that has ME written all over it rather than Ted, but it is my day after all, right?) our fancy silverware, and goblets for the OJ. Oh, but there's more....

See the level of liquid in the goblets? The one closest to you with the overexposed flash is Ted's. The man loves his OJ. Mine looks like it's been half drunk already. This is not because he drank it before I could come downstairs or because he "ran out" after he'd poured himself a hefty glass already. He is fully aware that the one food that gives me heartburn (even when not pregnant) is any volume of orange juice greater than 4 oz. He didn't want to plague my morning, so 4 oz it was. Sooooo sweet.

German pancakes with some homemade strawberry jam and lemon curd was, in a word, heaven. And bacon and chocolate in the same meal? How can you go wrong? I was moaning in deep pleasure with pretty much every bite (what is it about meals you don't have to think about or make that cause them to taste even better?), and before ya know it, we hear Tessa in the kitchen (who was having a smaller version of our meal) moaning with the same intensity and intonation as her mom. Just that alone would have made my day.

But then we went to church. Both talks in Sacrament meeting were fantastic, with special attention given to women who have been dealt sour cards in life situations, and I appreciated the sensitivity that both men used in addressing their remarks. The primary sang (Tessa was riveted) which is always a treat, and my gift from Tessa (other than the moaning) was being fed tiny bites of a PBJ during the rest of sacrament meeting, just like I've done to her oodles of times. And then giving me a very wet kiss after almost every bite.

I taught in Young Women about how we strengthen our testimony through obedience to the commandments. The insight that these 13- and 14-yr old girls have is incredible. They get it - better than I ever did at that age. I related my experience of gaining my own testimony as a teenager and how much strength I've drawn from that experience ever since then, but we talked about how laziness and disobedience can take us farther from what we know or have known is most important. I fall into that category so often. I don't ever intend to flagrantly disobey; I just get lazy. I get discouraged, too, but more often, it's laziness. Building a testimony requires doing, even if that doing is just a desire to do (Alma 32). "Strengthening" denotes an action, so it's only appropriate that our greatest insights and "golden nuggets" (I like to call them) are solely gained by getting off our butts and getting to it. It was a wonderful discussion, and the Spirit was so strong, that it was a shame to see our time together was over for the day.

The rest of the day was just as great. Tessa napped, we ate courtesy of Ted again, and once we stuffed our gullets, we started making phone rounds. My first stop was my "other mother" - the mother of one of my best friends whom I've known since I was 8 and who really has been the main part of the village who had to raise me. She and her family are going through an incredibly difficult time right now, and I've been thinking about her and praying for her every day for over a month, but because of the regular reports I was getting from her blog, from my friend, and from my mom (who is best friends with her as well), I never just picked up the phone and called her myself. Well, today I did, and even though she's the one going through a "rough patch" (and that's putting it soooooooo mildly), she made me so happy. We laughed and cried and talked about boobies. Basically, a standard wonderful phone conversation for me.

And then, my own dear mother. I waited for Tessa to wake up even though she just wants to eat the phone and press the buttons instead of blabber into it, but it was fun to have her there anyway. I talk to my mom all the time, so this was not an out-of-the-blue call for us. We just kind of picked up where we left off (from yesterday) and for the second time, she wished me a Happy Mother's Day, which is an incredible feeling.

Dear Mom,

I understand so much more fully what kinds of worries you were up against, what kind of love you felt for us, and how much we must have driven you crazy. I get why you streamlined your cooking, had a salad at every dinner, and switched to disposable diapers the second they were invented. I never knew about all the behind-the-scenes praying you must have done to keep your sanity, but I know now why you were either reading your scriptures or on your knees whenever I barged into your room at bedtime, why you cling so mightily to wise words and funny moments, and I am honored that you now turn to your own children for advice and a listening ear, even when, to us, you seem to have all your ducks in a row just fine. You've never claimed or given any indication that you think you're perfect, but to me, you are, and I'm so happy that I get to have you as my friend forever.

Love,

Allison

Dear Tessa,

Your Grandma D is quite a woman. She has raised me to be strong for you. She definitely taught me to be better than I am, but luckily, life is a process and God very mercifully gives us a little time to work out our kinks. I have a lot of kinks, but you don't seem to mind. The one thing I've got in spades (besides kinks) is an undying affection for you. I see little fun parts of your personality coming out, and I see some parts of my own personality that I can only assume will drive me as crazy as I drove Grandma D for so many years. But watching you watch me prompts me to be doing the things that are best, not just "good", because no one can ever expect someone to "do as I say, not as I do." Thank you for keeping me on my toes and for being so easy to love, you sassy little vixen.

Love,

Mama

Mother's Day 2009. Three months post-partum. Notice bags under eyes (both sets).


Mother's Day 2010. Main differences: we both have more hair (thank you, pregnancy hormones), her head is bigger but hair accessories are smaller, and lactating breasts turned into pregnancy rack. That necklace is following its path just like a river meandering through unmovable mountains...

Dear Undercooked Son,
I apologize in advance. But I promise I'll do my best.
Love,
Future Mama

1/12 of the way through

The GIVEAWAY is still going on until midnight tonight! Leave a comment! Winner is posted tomorrow!

Celebrations are in order because Ted is officially through the first twelfth of his law school semesters. Am I seriously counting in twelfths? H yes.

He's having a long-term affair with this building, but he doesn't know I know.

You wouldn't guess it from this picture, but Tessa barely recognizes him anymore. She shrieks her head off whenever he tries to hold her now. And I'm kidding. She does make sure I'm nearby though. It's kinda cute. For me.

Couldn't resist this one. The constantly changing sky makes for some incredible scenery day in and day out.

As far as "how he's doing", there's really no way to tell until he takes his finals in December. The entire class grade is based only on the final, so I won't see him at all after Thanksgiving. Two good signs, though, are that he understands everything he's reading and the information actually blows his skirt up. So that's good!

First Day of Law School

Ted began his law school classes almost a month ago. What's my problem? Well, the answer is along the lines of "where do I begin?", so for now, I'll mention that my main one is procrastination.

Ted had a whole week to prepare for his first day of orientation, which lasted for the entire week preceding the first day of real classes. Since our movers got our stuff to our apartment one hour after we signed the lease and picked up our keys, most of that week was spent unpacking and organizing, which was great. He didn't have time to dwell on the harrowing times ahead.

He was given his first class assignment DURING ORIENTATION, due the following Monday. This is no syllabus-and-class-rules first day of school, people. The man was reading and writing all weekend and all Sunday night and into the wee hours of Monday morning in order to finish the assignment before he ever sat in a real class. I felt so bad for him when he crawled into bed at 4am and then right back out at 6:30. Where's the "justice" in that, law people?? He had a long and grueling day, so I made sure to dress Tessa in an outfit to help him remember his roots and bring a smile to his face when he came home. That and a kickin' dinner. Good food heals all ills.

So you'll understand why Tessa is adorable in this picture and Ted looks totally wiped out.

The good thing about writing about this a month later is that I can report that despite being a little nervous after the first day, Ted has handled classes pretty well thus far. He has only overslept once (but because of my mad California driving skillz, he only got to class two minutes late), hasn't missed a class session, and has diligently read all his assignments (and actually understands them, which is another matter entirely). He has found time to spend with his little family every day and every weekend, so all is peachy here in the south. Well, not ALL. We could do with friends and family coming to visit..

Hey, that's DOCTOR to you (Part 2)

It has now been over two months since this day, but you can't have Part 1 of a blog post without following up with an additional part or four. Besides, the only differences in the way we look in the pictures is that Tessa has less hair and chub than she does now. Indulge me.

The day dawned gloomy, as June days often do in southern California. But for all the impending light drizzle, the set-up and participants came with all the pomp and circumstance one would expect at a smarty-pants school. The commencement speaker was the U.S. Secretary of Energy, Dr. Steven Chu, who did a nice job recounting our current environmental problems and how every graduate there was expected to fix them by the year 2030. Since there's no rush, I don't think the apocalyptic end of the world seemed as much a concern. Gee whiz, they're graduating from CalTech - let them go make money and THEN save the world.

My dad wasn't too fond of the speech, labeling it quite political for a day of regalia and pats on the back, but it's no secret he's not a fan of the current administration, so I just smiled and took the pictures.

Ted's parents were enraptured until the rain started falling, and then they took Tess and ordered me to different parts of the lawn to get pictures.

I was just so thrilled to get this picture, and relatively close enough so you can see. The names are called rather quickly, and the hooding happens in an instant, so without one of those fancy cameras where you can just rattle off 20 pictures in 3 seconds, I would have missed the moment. Technically, this is when he became a Doctor and began demands that I address him only as such, though he allows me to tone it down a bit by calling him Dr. LoverPants.

Ted's parents, brother, sister-in-law, and niece came from Utah to spend the weekend with us. And as in 60% of our photos, Ted's eyes are half-closed.

My parents and I were there, of course, and Tessa is wondering why daddy looks so weird.

That robe and cap will accompany us wherever we go now, joined by another in a few years. I wonder which one will look better...

Ted's younger brother, Peter, is starting medical school in Texas the same time Ted is starting law school in North Carolina. I'm so glad they're going through the same student loan woes we are at the same time, because it gives us people to complain with. Some of that complaining has already begun. Thanks, Kathleen! These two cousins got dressed together that morning and decided to wear the same thing. They're so twinny!

Had to throw this one in of Ted's greatest accomplishments. I have it on good authority that the one on the right was a lot more fun to get.

And on to the good stuff. DESSERT! Lunch afterwards was a fancy and delicious affair. You guys know my fetish with sweets. Had to do it.

And for posterity, Tessa used to have a smaller head and keep a pacifier in her mouth. This was only two months ago, but she sure has changed since then.

And my favorite, the first job of a newly crowned PhD.

Hey, that's DOCTOR to you (Part 1)

I knowingly married a big HUGE nerd. Before anyone passes judgment, let me explain that the term "nerd" connotes a very positive meaning for our families, so I say that sentence in the highest praise. I am a firm believer that there are stark differences between being a nerd, a geek, and a dork, and if you'd like me to launch into my lengthy diatribe, just knock on my proverbial door.

This week, Ted will be graduating with Uber-Nerd status from the illustrious California Institute of Technology. He earned his PhD in Biology after seven years in the Caltech lab, growing microscopic worms to further his research in RNA pathways and how they affect the genes that drive cell differentiation. And yes, I know exactly what I just said. He knowingly married a nerd, too, though a mild one at best.

In order to graduate, Ted had to prepare his thesis (which turned out to be around 150 pages) and then defend that thesis in front of his advisor, his labmates, and a committee that has been overseeing his work along the way. It was a pretty intense process to finish up that thesis and then create a detailed PowerPoint for his defense, so I left work early that day to witness the fruits of his many labors.

He certainly didn't disappoint! I was in awe of how easily he rattled off genetic codes and acronyms describing his research, but it REALLY blew my mind when I started hearing phrases like "My contributions to the C. elegans body of knowledge..." and "I discovered that...". I don't think I've ever been more in love with him than I was at that point. I thoroughly enjoyed my role as proud wife. Oh, and he spent the last seven years studying the vulva of that little worm. Yep - the VULVA.

Ted's friend and labmate volunteered for the task of advertising the event. These are what he came up with:





Take a good look at the colorful diagram. This is something Ted designed to show the cell differentiation of the 7 cell types in the vulva. It became somewhat famous in his lab, so they did a play on that with the Skittles. Another labmate wanted to lure participants to the thesis defense with the advertisement: "Taste the vulval rainbow", which of course sounds dirty.

A replication in dessert form, compliments of one of his lab mates:

Jacarandas were in full bloom just for the occasion, and the sky was seriously that blue.

Caption for this one:
"Wow, Dr Daddy, you're SOOOO SMAAAARRRT!"

Congratulations, honey buns! You deserve a break!

Impending Adventure

I was in Oregon during Ted's birthday (I know, rude), so we had to celebrate the following weekend. During my trip and his birthday, we finalized our decision for law school and where we thought Ted would succeed and where I could keep my sanity as a "single mom" the best. It wasn't a difficult decision since the tippy-top schools didn't want to be intimidated by such a stellar law candidate. It really came down to two schools: University of Michigan and Duke. Here's how the conversation went:


Ted: So, the deadline to send in my acceptance is fast approaching. Any further thoughts?

me: I thought we decided we're going to Duke.

Ted: Well, I didn't know if you had any additional or different feelings, especially since Michigan is ranked slightly higher than Duke. And I'm just wondering if I'm missing something about either school, so of course I'm over-analyzing. You know how I am. Ben [who went to Michigan] loved Michigan and makes a good argument for going there.

me: Most alumni at these top schools love where they went. Remember Bim's Columbia fetish?

Ted: Seriously. But this is a big decision, and I just want to make sure I'm making the right one, not just for me, but for us.

me: Well, you know where I want to go. At this point, if you heard any argument from anyone that Michigan is this incredibly superior school and is able to blow rainbows out its butthole, would you change your mind and go there?

Ted: No.

me: Okay then. There's your answer.


These men have wives for a reason. That's not to say I know what I want all the time. Next time you and I go out to eat, ask where I want to go. Guaranteed I won't have a clue.


But I digest. I mean, digress. This post was about Ted, not me. Which is to say it's about me.

So Ted sent in the acceptance for Duke, and I was really excited, because it means for the next three years, we're going to be Dukies! (Couldn't wait to say that. I should have an "excrement" blog label) His birthday gathering ended up being celebratory for both reasons.

(Side note - Lilian brought these deviled eggs on a whim. She had no idea that we were also celebrating Ted's decision to go to Duke, whose mascot is the Blue Devil. Genius!)

And so, folks, we are off to North Carolina so Ted can learn how to blow hot air. I mean, so he can learn how to become a lawyer. hehehehehehe

Oh yeah. And Happy Birthday. I love you.