Baby Eden

I've said that June 10th would be a perfect day to have a baby (my due date was the 17th).  The neuralgia in my back wasn't letting up, so at my 39 week appointment on Tuesday, the doctor said, "Are you ready to have this baby?"  I half-jokingly said "How about two o'clock?" A few minutes later he had booked me for a 3 o'clock induction.  I had about 2 hours to get my things in order before we checked into the hospital.  

We took this picture together right before I left for the hospital.  Roz was so great and took the girls for the night.  I went over to give Téa a kiss goodbye and she said, "Mom, get out of here and go have the baby!!"

The nurses knew I wanted her to be born on the 10th.  At 11:56 pm the doctor ran in and the nurse said to me, "You have 4 minutes to have this baby."

She was born at 11:57.  I'm not one to dilly dally.

Ben and his 3rd little girl.

As you can see, my favorite thing was having Téa and Avery meet their sister.  They were so so excited.  They would have stayed in the hospital all day, but after 90 minutes of passing the baby back and forth every 3 minutes, Eden needed a break.  




She is beautiful and perfect in every way.  I am always surprised at how love is able to multiply. I couldn't be more in love with my family.

Two 2-Wheelers and a Graduation

Want to slack as a parent?  If you do, just follow my lead. . .

We never took the time to take Téa's training wheels off - like 2 years ago.  She's just been cruising around with them.  

So here's where my genius comes in - I take her to a friend's house that is training-wheelless and left for a few hours.  I come back and voilá I've got a kid on a 2-wheeler!  Thank you to Holly for running my kid down the street and holding the back of my kid's seat until she got it.  

(Hey Holly, listen, she's got a loose tooth she won't let me go near.  It needs to come out, pronto.  I have "an appointment" tomorrow.  I'll drop her off and be back, say, around 4pm? Great.  Thanks.)

Well, Avery was jealous and wanted her training wheels off. We thought we'd humor her a few days later and let her try.  So off come the wheels and off goes Avery.  I'm not kidding.  She all but rode out of Ben's hands. 

Unfortunately our little Speed Demon had to learn the hard way that quick turns lead to fat lips.
A few days earlier, my little Avery successfully past all of her finger-painting and lunch-bag-puppet exams and graduated from preschool.  She couldn't be more excited and we couldn't be more proud.  

This was taken exactly a year ago. My 3 sisters and brother are coming up for the 4th of July. I just have to tell you that I am so so excited. You would think with 5 of us, one of us would live near the other. But we all live in separate states (if you count No. California as a separate state from So. California). Ridiculous, I know.

38 Weeks

i miss my neck

i miss my eyelids and chin

i miss the previous size of the freckles on my face

i miss walking up the stairs without resting

i miss not counting to 3 before i get off the couch

i miss having my girls snuggle up closely on my lap

i miss sitting like an adult and not squirming like a kid

i miss my jeans

i miss advil

i miss undamaged nerves in my back

i miss hugging Ben normally

i miss traveling

i miss seeing my toes

i miss having a clean house

i miss lying on my stomach

i miss gorgonzola and feta

i miss going to the movies

i miss my waist

i miss the gym

i miss doing anything quickly

i miss my sleep

i miss my mind

i miss this little girl and i haven't even met her yet

i'd gladly leave it all behind forever for her

Making Fun Out of Nothing at All.

Memorial Day Checklist:

BBQ -no

Beach - no

Swimming - nope

Torrential downpour - check

Flooded shop - check

Flooded office - check

Lemon ginger cookies, stale chips and Izzies for lunch - check

Industrial fan (to dry carpet) - check

Two girls ecstatic about the fan - check

Fun day with the family stranded at the shop - check

Chuck E. Cheese N Me

My little Avery is five.  I honestly cannot believe it.  Her one request was to have a Chuck E. Cheese party.  I thought, well, I will let you have one in your lifetime, so bring it on.  I fought the idea until I realized there is no shame in letting Chuck E. and his friends help out a 36-week-pregnant woman out.  

As parents, you like to feel like you've hit a few home runs for your kid's birthday.  Well, do you see that gold box in front of Avery?  Yes.  That is her Golden Ticket to freedom.  Ben felt it was wrong to have Aves sneaking around the house with Téa's Nintendo DS when she wasn't home. So Avery got her very own.  No more hiding out.

Worth the mad-dash to three stores to get the right one


Avery seriously felt like a celebrity and there was NO question in her mind that she was the Birthday Girl. Chuck E. pulled through for me.  I won't trash talk him anymore.  

I Think I Just May be Back

Major major major computer difficulties.  Well, computer death, really.  

Ben witnessed first-hand that my computer really was dead. Not just "slow dead" or "annoying dead," but "dead dead."  So he came home with a "present" for me tonight.  Perfect timing too seeing how it is 4:23 am and I am wide awake due to insomnia. (Well, it may not actually be insomnia but maybe my 6-year-old in bed with me trying to use my head as a pillow and incessantly sneezing because she is allergic to our down comforter, or the baby kicking me until she is nice and comfortable as well. The only way to get her to stop . . . get up.)

The good news is that we luckily backed-up my photos and such recently. But I did lose all of my Mother's Day photos, emails, and email addresses. This is where you guys come in.  I realize I asked this back in October (it crashed back then) but if you have my email address, I need you to email me yours.  Because I don't have yours. And that makes me sad.

Out with the Old, in with . . . The Old.

Saturday night was a good night.  Ben was home before midnight; all limbs, fingers and toes were in tact.  Same goes for our incredible friends and neighbors who spent the day moving Ben's shop.  It's no small feat.  And every time he moves, I am a little shaky until it's over.  

We are excited for The Mandate Press to have a new home. 

The new place is twice the size.  I went down this past Tuesday and couldn't believe my eyes.  The building was FILLED.  It was one of those things where you couldn't get everything back into the old place if you tried.  

It was definitely time, and we couldn't be more excited.  

The girls' first look at the new place. 

They had to do a quick "run-through." Of course.



The first press in its new home.

Happy 8th Anniversary!

8 Years Ago
9 Years Ago
13 years Ago

Love you Ben.

"El Shingles"

Do you remember back in the 1990's when everything was blamed on El Nino?  It started out being blamed for weather changes, then moved to weird ocean currents. It wasn't long before you heard it being the scapegoat for allergies, gross airplane food, increased gun violence, why he dumped me, brittle nails, blue eye shadow, and eventually my mom's bad hair day. Even Chris Farley realized the significance of this global phenomenon.  

So lately, I have been having flashbacks to those excuses as it seems I am blaming everything on "The Shingles." At about 6 months pregnant, my body thought growing a child was getting a little boring so it thought it might throw some good ol' fashioned Shingles into the mix.  Fabulous. 

The shingles have been gone now for over a month, but it has left me with Post-Herpetic Neuralgia (PHN).  Again, fabulous.  It basically feels like someone is putting a cigarette out on my back about every hour. The only thing that makes it start to go away is by laying down.

So, this is where I start to look bad:  

Oh look, dishes need to be done. . .My back is killing me, I need to lay down.

Volunteer in Tay's class? . . .Dang, my back is killing me.  I need to lay down.  

No clean clothes? . . .My back was killing me, I needed to lay down. 

There is only ketchup and broccoli in the fridge. . .Yah, about that, my back was killing me. I needed to lay down.

I felt bad when Téa asked me to do something and I started to say, "Sweetie, I  - "

She cut me off and said, "I know Mom, your back hurts."

But I am here to tell you I'm not lying.  I'm for real!  I promise you.

I only felt slightly vindicated when, after asking my doctor if PHN was normal, he responded (and I quote), "No, it's awful! It sucks." Unfortunately, I was alone when he said that.

Oh, and by the way, Justin took that photo of Ben.  I haven't been taking pictures of anything or anybody lately. . . my back has been killing me, I've needed to lay down.  

In the Presence of Greatness

When I was younger and visiting my parents' alma mater, I remember seeing a building that said Humanities. I thought, "Perfect! A major where I can just people-watch for a living." (The airport = quality people-watching. Spending the night on the street the night before the Rose Parade = prime. It really can't get any better than that. Honest.) Well, I was out of luck with my dream of what a Humanities major studies, but my love of people-watching has never diminished.
So you can imagine my glee when the Guiness Book of World Records holder for the World's Longest Fingernails (Lee Redmond) was at the register next to me today. I was glowing. Glowing!  Aren't you dying to know how she even functions?! Well, I got to see how she gets credit cards out of her wallet and sign her name. I got a fantastic undercover shot of her on her way out. I do have to say I was intrigued by both women's hair almost as much as the nails. I am disappointed I didn't talk to her. But c'mon, I was honestly speechless.

Home Sick

This happens every April. I live in the snow more than half of the year. Come February, every year, I expect it to just stop and be 70 degrees outside. It has snowed the past 2 days and we are all so over it already. But this happens every year. I've been wearing my flip flops, regardless, for awhile now. Some people love seasons, but I don't need them; 72 degrees year-round is just fine with me. These are some photos of where I grew up in Palos Vedes, Ca. I didn't appreciate where I lived until I moved away. Do we ever?

Stop Writing Your Number on Napkins, For Crying Out Loud!

How often are you digging through your purse trying to find a receipt to write your phone number on, just to find out you don't have a pen either?

You don't have to be a business man to need a business card.  So let's just call it a calling card, shall we? Ben and I always run into people who would love their own cards, but don't want to drop $250 when a receipt and dried out pen would be cheaper. Right?

So, Ben came up with this idea of pre-designed, but customizable calling cards for a steal!  A crazy steal; $95 for 250 cards. For that price, you could afford a second set with a wrong number on it to hand out to that creepy admirer that won't leave you alone, the weird girl from high school that says, "Hey we should get our kids together!," or the Mary Kay saleswoman who wants to give you a "free facial."

They are all hand-letterpressed (on 100 year-old presses) on super nice, thick, 100% cotton paper.

You don't have to know me or Ben to get these.  He has it all set up on his Mandate Press website.  Just fill in the info and they will be sent directly to you.  You don't even have to talk to anyone.

These cards can't find you new friends to give them to, but they can help you look cool when you do. So, stop being shy and start being social. Seriously.

You're Jealous

This past weekend I got some serious family time. . . and I didn't even have to travel!  My brother Jake and sister Josie came down for Conference, as did my Dad, Diana, and Ben's parents.  And as luck would have it, it was also my birthday.  It turned into a three day affair.  I'm not one to complain. . .

Jake and Josie

My cute mom cooked all day to make me a birthday dinner at her house.
Hailey proved to me that she truly knows how to treat a "30 weeker."  Again, I'm not one to complain. . .
Seriously how great is that.  Téa gets a spa treatment from both Papa Bart and Grampie Dune.
Avery and the beloved iPod. She just disappears with that and I find her on the couch singing to herself.