32 Weeks

This sweet little gal is now supposed be around three and a half pounds or so. 

Is that all?

I'm to the point in pregnancy where strangers who glance will glance at my stomach before my face.  I distinctly remember that with Mac as I waitressed up until a week before he was born.

I've also hit a wall of aches and fatigue that I don't remember with Mac.  I am really, really loving Mark's chiropractic skills these days.  Yesterday when he was trying to release the tension in one of my stretched-out abs he smiled and said, "I'm having a hard time figuring out if I'm feeling a tight muscle or a little arm or leg."  But little Miss and I helped.  She kicked him if he squished her, and I squealed if he squished a sore spot.  He definitely figured it out and I feel much better today.

I am generally not sure what I want, but I always want to eat.  I still cannot quite figure out what will satisfy these occasional surges of desire to inhale something.

I never want anything around my waist.  Not even pregnancy pants will do.  It's pajama pants, skirts, or nothing.

I can feel her rolling around inside of me a lot.  She still kicks no doubt, but it seems like she's getting more fluid and maybe ...feminine?  Who knows, but it is certainly entertaining to watch my stomach change shapes as she wiggles.  She moves when I drink anything, when my belly is rubbed, after I eat, late at night, and when Mac bumps into her (accident or not).

Mac has finally gotten to a point where he'll point at my stomach, say, "Baby!" and kiss it, but I still get the feeling he is a little oblivious to what lies ahead.  But maybe not ... maybe there's a reason he has started hitting and being possessive just in time for her to arrive.  Might I add however, that he has also really started to love other little babies he sees and wants to hug every one of them.

Her little girl's closet is slowly growing, and I am getting excited to meet her.  8 weeks.  Hopefully we can nail down a name by then ...

Belen? (As in Buh-len.)  Or will she hate us for having to explain her name the rest of her life?  Would she prefer Riley?  Sadie?  Elsa?  I guess we'll have to figure it out.

Bye, Angels

We've said our final good-byes to Angel Stadium. 

Good times have been had here, and we will definitely miss being so close.  Mac has loved every game we've taken him to; I haven't ever needed to bring games or toys to entertain him.  Seeing the lights, the fireworks, the balls, the words, and those boys "hit it" and "go, go, go," has been more than enough to keep him happy.

This will be a real loss.

Weekend of Inspiration

Another trip to Utah.  One of my friends out here says we're never around to even give California a real chance.  I always roll my eyes at her.  But maybe she's on to something ....

This time however, we did St. George.

Mark went all the way up to Provo to talk to that chiropractor we were so excited about, and I elected to forgo extra driving and allow him plenty of pondering time by staying in St. George.  So, so very nice.  Mac and I got alone time with Grandma Gunn (impossible to come by), Aunt Heidi and her clan of fantastic cousins that Mac adores, Aunt Danika and her great little group of cousins, and Aunt Katie along with da Gwace and Eva. 

Mac could not get enough of Grandma.  He wanted her to jump with him, to watch him eat eggs, to play catch with him, to save him from nap time, and to listen to every little thing he sees or thinks about.

 Oh, and puppy Molly.  Mac loves to play catch with her and feed her.  I heard, "Molly!  Come!  Ball," quite a bit.

Katie, Danika and I took off on a few errands and returned home to find Grandma spoon feeding a whole bunch of grandkids outside.  Very precious.  And crazy, I imagine.

Throw-back to Mac's infant days .... I think he'd rather I still bathed him this way.

These two really loved each other.  As long as marbles weren't around.

Uncle Matt played the greatest game with all the kids ... he captured them and threw them in this giant tube.  Very entertaining.

My first attempt at doing fine baby girl hair!  Can't wait for my own little miss....

On Saturday morning all the Gunns who could gathered to watch the incredible St. George marathon.  I loved watching people cross the finish line.  Some hobbled, some sprinted, and one lady sped-walked.  (Speed-walked?  Hm.)  Four of our Gunns ran the 26-mile desert race:  Josh, who was too quick for us to see finish.  Katie (pink shorts ... almost missed her!):

 Dan the man:

 And our 13-year-old niece Taylor!  That girl was bomb.  At 13 I was still complaining about the mile run in P.E.  She man-handled 26 of those in 4 hours and 40-ish minutes, and took first place in her age group.  Woah.

Lia loves to kiss Mac.  Mac then turns to me with a big grin and says, "A kiss!"  Oh, and Baby Sister made it to this picture.  She seems to make herself known all over the place nowadays.

So proud of their Mama, whose legs were on fire.

Surprise!  My Brittney friend ran it too!  Good work Britt!

 The only thing that made this race slightly less than unbelievable was the fact that Matt decided to run the Bear 100 in Logan the week before ... and do the last 3 miles in 21 minutes in order to make it under 30 hours and therefore get a Grizzly Bear belt buckle.  Yes, you heard right.  That man ran for 30 hours straight, through Blacksmith Fork Canyon, to Tony's Grove, and beyond. 

After being thoroughly amazed by the physical feats of Matt, Danika, Katie, and Taylor, we then had the pleasure of listening to General Conference all together.  Mac listened intently to the first speaker (something about those calming voices ... must be the Spirit), and then ran around flipping my hair elastic at people till we put him down for a nap.

 I loved the talk about how we will be held accountable for how we spend our time.  Every minute is a gift, and in the end we will be required to report to the Lord what we have done with each one of them.  A fantastic reminder!  Oh ... and of course I can't forget that precious talk about new fathers to new daughters ... that was a little too perfect and I couldn't help but squeeze Mark's midsection through the whole thing.

What a weekend.  Came away feeling loved and uplifted.  I can be a good person.  I can run like a crazy person.  I can be whatever I want to be.  I think Mac feels similarly.  Ever since coming home he has loved other kids (lately he has seemed to view most of them as threats to his stuff), and has greeted every one with, "Friend," instead of "Mine!"  Going to the park has been even better than ever.

No doubt we are feeling good, regardless of the let-down that the job opportunity in Provo seems to be.  Life is wonderful, and we are soaking it up, exploring our opportunities, and excited for all the big, big changes headed our way. 

Bring it on.

Grateful for My Chiropractor

Recently I have been very relieved that Mark decided to be a chiropractor instead of an eye surgeon, which was part of what convinced me to marry him in the first place.  (Exaggeration.) 

I can not imagine seven more years of boards-like stress on him. 

Mark is smart.  Very.  He has gotten ridiculously good grades all through school, and has still had enough time to make memories with Mac and I.  And work.  And help around the house.  And do church things, and be with friends, and travel to see family, and be on all sorts of ridiculous sports fantasy leagues.

But three consecutive days of all-day boards tests (something like 100,000 questions or so) are a really, really big bummer.  Mark has always been one to keep as many of his emotions on the inside as possible, but this time ... I could feel the effects.  (Or maybe we've just been married long enough now that I can finally figure out a bit of what's going on in that Gunn noggin' of his without as much overanalyzing.)

Somehow he made it through, and onward we go!  Results won't come till Halloween, and he recently told me that he'll kill himself if he has to take them again ... but I just don't think it's possible for him to score less than 50% on a test of any kind.  I guess we'll see.

What's next?  Meeting with chiropractors to figure out his internship for next semester, finishing his required amount of adjustments and service hours to graduate, and finally licensing through one last set of boards that will require him to treat fake patients.

Good work, lover.