Our boy.

He is officially 4 weeks old today. I know we have needed to update this thing for awhile. I should probably tell you all about my labor and delivery but according to certain people you would most likely hate me for it so I probably shouldn't. I will just tell you a little. Here I am on my due date, March 24th!

I went into labor at our friend Megan and Adam's house a little before 11 o'clock at night, on Friday March 26th. I did not believe I was in actual labor. My contractions started as just strong braxton hicks contractions at about 3 to 3 1/2 minutes apart. Hence why I did not believe I was in actual labor. (In every class you take you learn that you should go to the hospital when your contractions are 3 to 5 minutes apart. Mine were never 5 minutes apart.) We went home at around 12:15 because I kept telling everyone that I wasn't actually in labor. The contractions got worse and much more painful. Not to mention even closer together, about 2 to 2 1/2 minutes apart. After much walking around, taking a bath, and telling Griffin and myself that I just needed to relax and go to sleep and they would go away(though when your contractions are 2 minutes apart it's sort of hard to get any sleep), some things happened that let me know it was indeed the real thing.

We went to the hospital at around 4:15 Saturday morning. When I got to the hospital I was dilated to a 3. The nurse proceeded to say "Wow...your contractions are really close together. How long have they been that way??" My exhausted response was "The entire time." I received my Epidural when I was dialated to a 5 at around 9:30am. I finally got a little much needed rest and at about 3 felt the need to push. I was told I was only dilated to an 8 and not to push...they would turn up my epidural. About 25 minutes later I again said that I REALLY needed to push. I was not joking...I was going to push something out and it was going to happen soon. She called the anesthesia team in though I said I didn't want my epidural any stronger. She said "well I guess I can check you again." That was soon followed by "I can't feel your cervix any longer and...oh! There's the baby's head! He has a lot of hair!" They called my midwife in and about 15 minutes later he arrived. Though he gave us a minute of silence and much worry (the cord was wrapped around his neck and he was blue) he finally pierced our ears and our hearts with the most beautiful cries I had ever heard.

Fletcher James was born at 3:43 pm on Saturday March 27th, 2010. He was 7lbs 13 oz, 20 inches long. He is beautiful. Very handsome like his father.

Here is Fletcher when we left the hospital. Yeah he was a little dinosaur. And yes he was born with dino feet...the rest of the outfit was to not make his dino feet look so out of place.

His shirt says he wants to be formal, but he's still here to party. And party he did...at our friend Carson's birthday party.

This was Easter. I don't think the Easter Bunny got him what he wanted even though he dressed up for him and everything. What a rude Easter Bunny.

Here he is just chillin' in his favorite chair. As you can see he was a little tired from hanging out with the big kids. Right after this picture he popped up the foot rest, kicked back and took a little nap.

As you can see our little boy is already pretty grown up. It makes me sad to see how much he is growing. We have a doctor's appointment tomorrow and I would not be surprised if he weighed 11 pounds already. What I will not be sad about though is him sleeping longer. If I could have one wish it would be that he would stay as small as he is, but act like a 6 month old. He really is pretty awesome though and we love him so much. I will try my hardest to update this thing more frequently.

Oh and thanks to all our friends who have been so supportive with kind phone calls and yummy meals.

The Best Day of My Life

The day I got accepted to graduate school--good day. The day I got released from the mission--good day. Wedding day--pretty stand up day. Nothing compares to the day my first child was born.

I expected to be scared (Some images are not easily erased from our minds. Thanks a lot Mothers First Perinatal Education Course and your graphic child birthing movies). I expected Caitlin to be scared (with good reason). I expected to instantly love and adore what ever it was that kept kicking Caitlin's ribs and putting pressure on her bladder in utero.

I did not expect to be utterly silenced, humbled, and reverenced by the poise, determination, and sheer brilliance by which Caitlin birthed our first born.

I knew I would love Fletcher James. I did from the first time I saw that little gummy bear shaped blob with a heart beat, and finally meeting him was a wonderful, inspiring experience. But what took me back was the increase in love I felt for Caitlin as she saw the difficult road ahead of her and championed it. Through the whole labor, delivery, and recovery process she has been nothing but kind, sweet, and loving.

What she was able to do, I'm fairly certain I couldn't.

Just to clarify...

Well I figure (2 months later) that I should probably elaborate on that previous post. Yes we are pregnant. Yes we are being serious...no joke people. Yes our baby might come out of the womb talking about economics and saying "that's what she said." No, we have no idea what to name him. And yes it might not be a good idea for us to have a teeny tiny baby amidst all our apartment clutter...but at least we can be the first to admit it.

So my due date is March 24th. I know. 3 weeks. Sort of scary. But I can't be scared when I see how awesome our little boy looks!

Here he is sucking his thumb.

And here he is....uh....

Yeah no denying that it is a boy.

Oh and if you are wondering how I look? Don't worry you haven't really missed much. If I had posted pictures sooner you probably wouldn't even have been able to tell I was pregnant.

Here I am January 11th right before I turned 30 weeks (or 7 months for those who don't know or don't want to do the math.)

Here I am just 2 weeks ago at 35 weeks. I finally popped and definitely look huge.

And here I am just last Sunday.

Being pregnant has definitely been an experience. I had the normal morning sickness and did a little throwing up here and there but I didn't have it nearly as bad as a lot of women do. And once I hit 12 - 13 weeks I felt back to normal. Honestly I feel extremely lucky to have had as healthy and painless of a pregnancy as I've had. A lot of things have changed for Griffin and I. Not just physically or emotionally (All those cravings have gone straight to Griffin's butt. Oh and Caitlin’s struggled a little, too), but our physical apartment; who knew someone so small could require so much and take up so much space?? (I mean the baby literally kicked Griffin out of his office and made him work in the closet?!! I know...what a demanding baby!! Not to mention all the times he tells me to "hurry to the bathroom! You really have to pee!!" only to have a few drops come out. Little trickster…)

And even though I know that things are about to change even more, (hopefully there will be no more "changing" of Griffin's hips. I'm not going to keep buying him more stretchy pants!) I'm just so glad that I get to have Griffin by my side. (Or at least in the building. Once he found out there is a McDonald's in our hospital for the Dad's he could not stop talking about getting a Big Mac. New pants here we come.) But in all seriousness, I know we can do it, even though sometimes it seems overwhelming.

I am definitely feeling that nesting feeling though I lack the craft/decorating skills to do much with the feeling. So cleaning has been my forte. The baby's room is getting all set up and I have tried a few crafts (including mod podge) and with the help of some friends I'm sure his room will be perfect. We are just really excited to meet him. Well I will try and be a little better about updating this thing. Especially after Mr. Baby Edwards makes his way into this world.

Santa came early?!?

Just thought we should let you all know...Santa left us an extra special present this year. I thought I was just gaining holiday weight and was really bloated. But...I found out I'm not just getting fat.

I'M PREGNANT!!!

Not just pregnant. 7 MONTHS pregnant!!!! Yeah I know....I'm pretty sure I qualify for TLC's "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant."

DNA paternity tests are pending.

Shhhh...don't tell Griffin.

So long hair.

The only thing Griffin likes better than economics is explaining life using economics. Griffin has never really liked getting haircuts (no offense, Mom). You have to sit still—strike one. Hair gets everywhere—strike two. When the haircut is over, your melon shaped head makes you look eight years younger as opposed to the usual five (A day in the life of Griffin:

Griffin: I’d like a library card to get access to the internet.

Librarian: You know, you have to be at least 14 to get a library card without at parent present.

Griffin: How about 24? Do I need my mom’s permission to get a Dekalb County library card? She lives two thousand miles away—is that going to be a problem?)

--strike three.

As a result, in the last three years, Griffin has gotten his hair cut twice. Why wait so long for a haircut? The benefit of living a life haircut-free far exceeds any cost of growing long hair. That is, until recently.

As of late, the cost of long hair has been piling up:

Safety. Long hair is unsafe. Griffin had a difficult time riding his bike aggressively when he couldn’t see over his shoulder (long hair obstructs the view), and given his propensity for bicycle-related altercations, he needs every advantage he can get.

Hygiene. Related costs: there were none. To Griffin, his hair was beautiful. To Caitlin, hygiene and beauty were two different things. Beautiful his hair might be, but that does not mean it was clean. As for actual costs, there were none . . . which should raise some concern. How could Griffin use no more shampoo than he had when his hair was buzzed?

Jealousy. Caitlin got a ton of compliments on how wonderful and healthy and full of volume Griffin’s hair was.

Mistaken identity. A child in the nursery was convinced that Jesus substitute taught his nursery class.

And, you know, you can only get mistaken for a woman so many times before it starts to get old. Sure, its funny at first when your friends are wondering the name of that nice girl accompanying Caitlin in the car, or when the lady getting the sacrament at her home is confused about when they started giving women the priesthood. Call him old-fashioned, but Griffin prefers to be identified as male.

Thus, the day came when the costs of long hair exceeded the benefits of having long hair (benefits included not having to get your hair cut) and in one swift motion, it was all gone. One evening in September, Griffin, Caitlin and a picture of Griffin’s desired hair length, all arrived at the neighborhood Supercuts. This is how the conversation went:

Supercuts lady: Can I help you?

Griffin: Yeah. I need my haircut.

Supercuts lady: Okay, do you know how you want it cut?

Griffin: Yes. Like this (pointing to the picture).

Supercuts lady: I can do that.

Griffin left a lot of hair at that Supercuts, which he expected, but what followed, he did NOT expect. Every person, and it was literally every person, in his ward weighed in on which style they liked better (in case you were wondering, the ward split down the middle about which is better—Griffin-short hair v. Griffin-long hair). There was, in fact, so much commotion in his Sunday School class that he had to clear the air and let people express their opinion about Griffin’s optimal hair length before they would calm down and fall asleep to his lesson. Probably, the most disturbing thing was all the people who felt like Griffin had lost his identity when he lost his hair. What? Griffin was identified as the kid with long hair? It had become a part of Griffin? He wasn’t trying to make a statement. He wasn’t trying to be unique or original or cool. He just doesn’t like haircuts. He also didn’t realize that he would lose all of his strength—also that Caitlin would be confused as to who he was for the next few days. He will miss though the girls at Spelman asking him where he gets his hair styled and commenting on how much they love his layers.

". . . Mt. Fury? That sounds like an intense bike."

Well, January 21 was an intense day.

Let's break it down:

9:15 am - Griffin should have left five minutes ago for the train

9:23 am - Griffin gets hit by a car, on his bike, by a man who probably thinks he's at no fault for hitting a person on a bike.

9:24 am - Griffin survey's the situation, realizes that he's okay, and  the Mt. Fury is (of course) okay, and peddles on to catch the train.

9:25 am - Mt. Fury in tow, train is caught

9:36 am - Griffin misses his connecting bus 

9:37 am - Griffin tries, unsuccessfully, to beat the bus to its first stop

9:37 am - Griffin realizes he now has to bike 5 miles to school, and is going to be late for his 10 o'clock meeting.

10:15 am - He arrives at school late and frantically locks his bike to the bike rack.  All the other "expensive" bikes were intimidated by, well, the fury of the Mt. Fury (and yes, the bike WAS locked.  Griffin claims he double checked to make sure of it).

4:00 pm - After a typical day of school, Griffin scurries out to his sweet ride to quick peddle to the train in order to be early to his first day teaching at Spelman.

4:00:30 pm -  WTF?  Where's my bike? Who dared to touch the Mt. Fury?  After calling a friend who thinks that bikes might have to be registered on campus, Griffin runs, to the parking office.  The parking office lady was like, "Well, what kind of bike is it?"  Griffin responds, "Red and sliver, its a piece of crap.  It's a Roadmaster."  "Oh, its like a pedal bike, not a moped?  Oh no, there is no reason we would have taken it."  "Great," Griffin replies, "So it was stolen."  Idiots.  Well at least we know whoever took it is going to experience the wrath of the Mt. Fury.  Good luck with the sore bum and shifting into the higher gears . . . have fun trying to get any momentum down a hill!!!

4:15 pm - Griffin gets on a shuttle to the train.  After getting to the train, getting on the train, and getting off the train, it's now 4:58ish.  Class starts at five.  After erroneously hoping to catch a cab, and unsuccessfully trying to contact Spelman to tell the professor he was going to be late, Griffin realizes that he will be running the last mile and a half to Spelman . . . with a backpack . . . in a tie.

5:15 pm - Griffin arrives at his classroom, catches his breath, apologizes for being late, explains he had some issues with transportation, and then teaches an awesome class.  Nobody really cared about his tardiness, and in fact, he got everything taught that needed to.

7:00 pm  - Home at last.  A pretty crazy day, but nothing Caitlin's ribs, potatoes and lemon dessert couldn't fix.

So to recap:

1 fight:  Car v. Mt. Fury.  Car suprised attacked the Mt.  Fury.  The Mt. Fury still won.

6 miles biked

1 bike stolen  

1.5 miles ran

1 class taught

4 ribs eaten 

0.5 lbs of cheesey horseradish potatoes 

14 oz of lemon dessert 

A pretty awesome start to my teaching career.

While filing the report the next day, after being asked the make and model of the bike, Officer Thompson said, ". . . Mt. Fury?  That sounds like an intense bike."

Indeed it was.

Honest to Blog.

The last five months of our lives can be best understood by a series of shots of food we've prepared and eaten--some prepared by our own two hands (that's two hands per person, so four total) and others enjoyed at a price.

"Oui? Oui are American cuz this is America--greatest country on Earth."
To your right you'll notice the homemade macaroni salad. Prepared just the way Griffin likes it. Lots of garlic and onion and no celery. Please take notice to your left, the blackberry infused patriotic jello . . . and up top: all the man meat you could ever want.

Fruit pizza. This one has become a Independence Day tradition. Wait, hold on a sec, it's just been confirmed: this is our first tradition!

Chicken cordon blue (That's the American spelling.) For those of you who choose not to recognize France as a country, chicken cordon blue is a chicken breast stuffed with ham (turkey in our case) and swiss cheese. This particular dish was rolled in a macadamia nut breading and served with greens and bacon-macadamia nut brown rice. I think we were celebrating something . . .
Griffin is having an affair with these pork chops. Grilled pork chops with a homemade savory applesauce.

Griffin + birthday = texas sheet cake = cake coma

Here's a quick tour of our Easter eggs: I wrote the equation for the normal distribution (as discovered by Gauss) and Caitlin drew sperm swimming around the egg. Yeah, we're creative.

Funnel-cake day. This one takes Caitlin way back to her days working as a state fair carni. She loves Styx.

Nothing says "Happy Birthday Caitlin. I'm so proud of you and all that you do and think that you are so wonderful and fun" like a candle and creme-brule. Happy 18th Caitlin!!!!

Caitlin's cream cheese frosting birthday cake. Thanks Bobbie!

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmm . . . ribs. Marinated, smoked and slow cooked on the grill for two hours. These were honestly the best ribs I've ever had. These ribs embarrass Ribs Etc. Caitlin + recipe + love = Mind blowing ribs.
A happier man there never was.

So, as you can tell . . . we like to eat. Luckily the married weight has only gone to Griffin's hips.