So, there is something I have noticed. Roni and I worry about very different things happening to the bwun. I think I have an example that perfectly illustrates the difference.
The night after the bwun was born, Roni and I both had dreams about the bwun where something went wrong. I’ll only go through my dream here, but if Roni wants, she can leave her dream in the comments (I don’t think I’d do her dream justice by me telling it). Here it is:
It is the day after the bwun was born, and it is still morning. Some of my family members are over to visit; they have come to see the bwun. Mika calls for the nurse, and asks that they bring the baby in from the nursery.
Everybody is really excited to see him for the first time. When the bring him in, the bwun is no longer the bwun. Somehow, he has turned into an iguana, diaper and all.
The problem is that I am the only one who seems to have noticed! Everybody else is just going off about how cute he is, and how he looks just like us.
Finally I say something, “Guys, something is wrong here! He’s turned into an iguana!” Everybody just looks at me all crazy, like they are thinking “of course he looks like an iguana.” Then Roni scoops him up and coos in a high pitched baby voice, “but isn’t he the cutest little iguana ever?”
Crazy, right? I woke up just after that. I guess you could say that I worry about things that aren’t really possible.
What exactly is the plural form of “news”?
A couple of good things to announce here, I will go down in the order of perceived “goodness”
As I am sure many of you already know, and have read of my lovely wife’s blog, we had the bwun! Here are all the juicy (do you catch that? because labor is messy… and juicy… so it is funny because… never mind) details that not even Roni probably remembers!
We arrived at the hospital around 6 AM (still a horrible time to be arriving anywhere, if you ask me), and they got Roni all set up to be induced. They started giving her the pitocin to get the contractions going. Roni has been having pretty consistent contractions for a while now, so the pitocin wasn’t really doing much as far as we could tell.
The fun really started at 9, when the doctor came in and determined that Roni was far enough along to get her water broken (is it really her water, or is the the bwun’s water that got broken?). After that, the contractions really started going, and Roni could tell that they were really doing something.
The nurse came back in around 10, and said that nothing much had changed, and shortly after that, the contractions got REALLY bad. By the time they checked her an hour later, she was fully effaced and dialated, and said that she was ready to start pushing, but that we had to wait for the doctor to get there around noon.
Around noon, a nurse came in and said that the doctor would be in soon, and Roni should start trying to push. After one push (not even one contraction), the bwun’s head almost starting coming out, so the nurse decided NO MORE PUSHING, at least until the doctor came in. We waited almost another hour, and around 12:45 the doctor made it in.
When he entered the room, they started having Roni push again, and by the time the doctor had his gown on, it only took one and a half contractions for the bwun to enter the world! At 1:09 we officially had our newest addition to the family. Evan Tarleton was born at 7 lbs and 5 oz kicking and screaming. I thought he was cute right off the bat, but Roni reserved judgement until he was washed off to make her call. Personally, I think he is getting cuter by the day. Check out Roni’s blog about the bwun to see pictures of the cute little guy.
The other good news?
Well, my interview with BYU went quite well. I thought it was going to be a very in depth interview with all sorts of trick questions. I was surprised, however, because it was fairly straight forward. The dean asked why I wanted to go to law school at BYU, and then he told me why he wanted me to go to law school at BYU. So hopefully, I’ll be going to BYU in the fall to start my legal education!
Evan Tarleton ourlastnameiswaysecret
Born February 23, 2009 @ 1:09pm
A managable 7 lbs 5 oz and 21 in
Click here to read about Tarlton Lewis, my 4th-great grandfather.
What? You just want to see the Bwun?
Everyone is doing well. We like the Bwun so much that we’re thinking of keeping him. Huzzah for babies! Huzzah for the Bwun!
I was contacted earlier this week by BYU Law School, and they said they would like for me to meet with the Dean of Admissions. I asked my old boss if she had any idea what it was about, or if she could give me heads up on what the interview was for; she said she couldn’t go into details, but that the interview is “good news.” Wish me luck!
Since we now have less than 2 weeks until my merciful doctor is going to induce me, the Romgi and I are trying to get our house as ready as we can for the Bwun – and for not having time to do anything else. So yesterday we (mostly the Romgi) painted the nursery.
We saw an episode of some cool show on HGTV a while ago where this masterful painter/decorator/designer guy transformed a basement room into an underwater playroom. It was amazingly awesome; he painted the walls several colors of blue, with the darkest at the bottom, and blended the colors as they progressed up so that it looked like being underwater. Super-ultra-great. Our room was based on that idea – only, instead of water, it’s outer space, or the sky…whichever…the ceiling and top of the walls are the darkest blue, and it goes down to a sky-ish blue. The Romgi did an expert job of blending the colors together. I think it looks fabulous.
What do you think?
There’s still some touchup work to be done, and then the rest of the furniture (on the other side of the room) needs to be moved back, and there’s no mattress in that crib…but for the most part, we now have an awesome nursery to bring the Bwun home to.
Hooray! Now if I can just have the Bwun!
You’ve all heard phrases like “Nothing worth having is free” and “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.” Yesterday the Romgi and I reaffirmed the validity of both statements.
Denny’s was offering free Grand Slams from 6am-2pm, so instead of going before work (which we considered, but decided against since I was still on morphine and hadn’t really slept all night), the Romgi took a long lunch so we could stand in line and get our free food. We got to the Provo Denny’s about 11:15, and the line was wrapped around the building. Lots of high school students, older folks, the typical Denny’s crowd. Right in front of us was a woman who appeared to be the director of a homeless shelter, along with several of her…tenants? Shelterites?
Everything was fine until we rounded one corner and another homeless man cut in front of us to join the group ahead. I feel very judgmental and un-Christian for being creeped out by him, but he was a creepy man. I don’t mean his appearance – which was just your run-of-the-mill homeless look – but the fact that he kept turning around and staring at me, swaying from side to side.
Eventually (about 5 minutes later) I became so disconcerted that I had the Romgi turn to face me and be a barricade of sorts between me and the homeless man (the homeless man and I?). This was actually less effective since then the guy started lurking behind the Romgi’s back trying to look over the Romgi’s shoulder at me. When you get the feeling that someone is not quite mentally stable, having them lurk to look at you is not really fun.
I tried to carry on conversation with the Romgi about anything I could possibly think of, including repeating things we’d already talked about, so that I could stay occupied and hopefully not have to talk to the homeless man. It only worked for so long.
At first I didn’t catch what he said – although he was speaking loudly – so I said, “I’m sorry, what?”
“What’s your child’s name?” he repeated.
I figured that any name I said would just prolong the conversation, so I said we haven’t picked a name yet (sort of a lie. We’re pretty sure that we’ll do Evan, but no guarantees until we see the Bwun). To which the homeless man replied,
“My name is right here,” unzipping his jacket to reveal a bright orange t-shirt that said something like ‘Iswalleh + Yonica.’
We just sort of mumbled a reply. What else were we supposed to do? After another minute of lurking, he meandered off to stare at the driver of a minivan that was waiting to leave the parking lot. By the time he came back the Romgi and I decided we would just take the Grand Slam vouchers that were being handed out so we could come back later in the week – without having to wait in line.
So for the low price of an hour and a half in line and a conversation with a creepy homeless man, the Romgi and I each get a free Grand Slam sometime soon.
I’m still deciding!