Friday, January 2, 2015

XYZ

It started the night before, when Aurora insisted that she couldn't fall asleep unless someone was holding and rocking her. She insisted on this until about 2 AM. As every minute droned by, I shed more tears from exhaustion and stress, knowing that Taylor and I would have to be awake by 5 AM to make it on time for his finals and my business meetings in Salt Lake City the next morning. I tried to joke that I should have lost some more of the baby weight via all the tears I cried out all the night before. Instead I was too tired and it accidentally came out rather pathetic.

By nothing short of a miracle, we got to Salt Lake in time for Taylor to take his exams. We arrived late, but not late enough that he didn't have enough time to complete them. I tried sleeping in the car while we waited for him, but the stillness of the car awoke the Fussbucket. She unfortunately remembered she hadn't eaten in two hours.



By late morning, I realized I hadn't eaten yet, so we dropped by a grocery store. I grumped throughout the store, mad that Taylor wouldn't let me have cookie dough for breakfast. Toll House cookie dough, people. I'm actually a tad embarrassed about this, because people could hear me arguing about why I needed to have cookie dough. However, I felt like I deserved it, and didn't want to believe Taylor's nonsense claims "You'll have more energy if we get something healthy. I promise that your body will love you for it."  He was right, of course, but I didn't want him to have that satisfaction, so I tried to stay grumpy as I ate my bagel and juice. It was pretty hard though, since our breakfast were surprisingly tasty.

Turns out I was able to have enough energy for our meeting, and plan some audio/visuals for an upcoming video we're collaborating with some artists on. And then some energy left over to drive our musician to a city 25 minutes away to pick up some audio software, and then back to Salt Lake, and then an hour to home to celebrate his dad's birthday. At the last minute, I remembered that I had agreed to help our Relief Society presidency set up for their Christmas party. I admit I considered not going, because I was running on hyper fumes. My pop's kind and wise voice came beyond the grave and said "Just get your butt over there". (My dad isn't dead btdubs, I just really like that phrase. So mysterious sounding.) My body somehow had made my hyperness into extra fuel, so I dashed over to the church. I'm glad I did, too. They had too much going on for just the few that were there, and they were short on time. When I left about 45 minutes later, my heart was lightened, and there was no trace of the grumpiness that I had felt that morning. Service has a funny way of doing that.

Back at the Jacobs' house, we played games, ate dinner with the family, and made some awesome memories to look back on.

That night, when Aurora (praise the heavens) decided she could go to sleep on her own at 10:30, I escaped to the bathroom to get ready for bed as fast as I could. I wanted to fall asleep at the next available second. I also really had to pee since I kept forgetting to do it earlier through all the hustle.

It was then I noticed that my zipper had been down the entire day.

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