2020 Good Reads: Fiction Q1

My library is closed now (another casualty of corona), so I haven't been reading quite as much in the past few weeks. I'm probably going to end up re-reading something I own in April. It'll probably be Good Omens, because that feels right for the current circumstances.

Anywhoozle, the point of this post is that I read some books in the last three months. And they were pretty good.  Here we go!

Shades of Milk and Honey; Glamour in Glass by Mary Robinette Kowal

3/5 stars and 4/5 stars, respectively.
I started the year with this fun set of historical fiction/fantasy novels. They are set in Regency England, which is great for Jane Austen fans like myself. The fantasy bit comes from magic called "glamour;" it's a skill used to create illusions. I'm typically not a fan of fantasy, but I really enjoyed the magic element in these books. It's believable, well-planned, and supports the plot and characters without defining them. Shades was likeable, but I only gave it 3 stars because the plot and characters are lifted heavily from Jane Austen's work, and I felt the ending came out of nowhere. Glamour was better; the plot improved dramatically, and the characters progressed. So try this series if you love a good clean romance, a bit of magic, and Jane Austen.

Carry On, Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse

5/5 stars
I'm a sucker for dry British humor, and this classic delivers. Every short story is a winner. I giggled and snorted all the way through it. Jeeves is, of course, the brilliant valet to Bertie Wooster, who is a cheerful young man with rather too much cash and rather too few brains. Bertie gets into pickles and Jeeves gets him out. It's simply delightful.

Where the Watermelons Grow by Cindy Baldwin

5/5 stars
This is a middle-grade novel, technically. But it's beautifully written, and it's got enough of the feels that I'd recommend it for adults as well. Where the Watermelons Grows tells the story of 12 year old Della and her family, one hot, dry summer in the South. It's a story about mental health, trusting your community, and fixing your heart instead of your circumstances. I absolutely loved it. 

2020 Good Reads: Non-Fiction Q1

I decided 2020 would be a year of self-improvement. Motherhood has been my #1 focus for the past three years, which is good and fine, but at the beginning of the year I was feeling like a washed-up version of who I used to be. Now, I'm not the same as I used to be, and that's ok, but I had let myself use parenting and babies as an excuse to form some habits that were not serving me. So I made a few "resolutions" at the beginning of the year, one of which was to start reading books again. 

I used to devour stacks of books. I'd stay up late to read, neglect housework for books, think about books, talk about books. But in 2019, I think I read....maybe two or three? So I decided to rekindle my love of reading in 2020. I didn't set a goal to read a certain number of books, but I am going to read at least one book every month.

Well. It turns out I still like to read.  

Here are just the non-fiction books that I've read since the beginning of the year. 

The Woman Who Smashed Codes by Jason Fagone

5/5 stars

Detailed and compelling, this memoir was hard to put down. I love WWII history, but I don't prefer gruesome frontline or concentration camp stories (I know they are important to read, and I have read some, but not my fave weeknight read). This book tells the story of one very skilled woman who broke codes in WWI and WWII, significantly influencing the outcome of the wars. I hadn't realized codebreaking was such a new science in WWI and WWII, but Elizebeth Friedman and her husband invented it just before war began. Jason Fagone tells a fascinating story, rich with anecdotes and research. The codebreaking is explained well enough to appreciate its complexity, but rarely gets dry with technical details. When I finished the book, I felt triumph for a war won with the brains and tenacity of a brilliant woman. If you pick just one book from my list to read, let it be this one. 

Atomic Habits by James Clear

5/5 stars

I figured that if I wanted to form some new habits this year, I should probably learn how to be good at it. This book is filled with powerful principles for becoming who you want to be and reaching your potential. It gives overarching principles along with bite-sized practical advice for implementing it. My biggest take-away was to focus on who I want to be, not the goal I want to achieve. Setting goals creates a yo-yo effect, because we tend to justify slacking off as soon as a goal is reached. But if we focus of forming a new identity and create systems that support it, sticking with habits becomes easy. Because of this book, I gave up my old, unhealthy habit of watching YouTube and eating a treat every night after putting kids to bed. I swapped that habit for sitting down with a book and drinking a cup of herbal tea. Same relaxing effect, but my new habit supports the best version of myself. I also have started exercising every most mornings by using his two-minute trick. Instead of telling myself I'm going to workout for 30 minutes every morning, I just have the goal to put on my sports bra and open my 7 Minute Workout app. I can do that in two minutes, and if I have my sports bra on and the app open, I might as well just do the workout, right? So, if you are wanting to form some new habits this year, check out this book. 

Lady Almina and the Real Downton Abbey by The Countess of Carnarvon

4/5 stars

I haven't watched Downton Abbey, but I enjoyed this nonetheless. Lady Almina was the Countess of Carnarvon during WWI, and her massive wealth, passion for nursing, and enormous estate spurred her to create a hospital for wounded soldiers. The story is told well, and I enjoyed learning a new piece of history. Descriptions of glamorous parties and English countryside, along with the story of Lord Carnarvon's discovery of King Tut, keep the book light and entertaining. 

When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

5/5 stars

Read this one sitting down and with a cup of tea and a box of tissues. Paul Kalanithi was in his last year of residency as a neurosurgeon when he was diagnosed with cancer. Really bad cancer. This book explores what makes life meaningful, his emotional and medical grapple with disease, and how to find happiness where we are. Dr. Kalanithi was an English major before medical school, and this book is powerfully and beautifully written. Read it, weep, breathe, and hold your family close today. 

Wesley's Birth Story

Our sweet Wesley Kent was born on June 29th, 2019. This is his birth story. (Warning: it might get a little gross. Birth is intense.)

The Back Story

Wesley was due on June 24th, officially. Personally, I wasn't sure that date was accurate, but all his ultrasounds had him measuring right on date, so I figured either he would be a week late and a big baby, or he'd be on time. My mom bought a plane ticket here for the 23rd and a returning flight on July 2nd, so he really needed to come sometime in that week. I was mostly worried about having her here to watch Eliza while we were in the hospital. My due date came and went...and then a few more days....and then a few more days. By the 28th, we realized that this baby REALLY needed to come. Now. We were out of time, the freezer was full of food, the laundry was all done, the errands all run, and he just needed to come OUT. I hadn't had a single contraction or early labor symptom all week, which was discouraging. My midwives had offered me an induction, but I felt very strongly that I didn't want to go that route. I also had had the option to have my midwife strip my membranes on my due date, but that also didn't feel right. I just knew that this baby wasn't quite ready to come out then. But by the 28th, I knew it was time.

So my mom did some research and bought me some Black Cohosh tincture from the health food store. Black Cohosh has been used to induce or augment labor for....a very long time? I don't actually know that much about it, but given that I had an uncomplicated pregnancy and wasn't taking any medications, it was pretty low risk. (Please don't consider this medical advice. Don't sue me.) So I took several doses on Friday night and started having some sporadic mild contractions that evening and through the night. But given that it was more than I'd felt all week, I had some hopes. Not high hopes, but some hopes.

Another unrelated but relevant thing was baby's position. He had been stubbornly OP (occiput posterior) for weeks, despite all my Spinning Babies moves. OP (or "sunny-side-up") babies can mean longer, more painful labors, and possibly a higher risk for c-sections.  He was head-down, which was the most important, but I was still worried that his position would complicate things.

My Birth Plan

I didn't have much in the way of a formal birth plan. I didn't even bother to type one up for my L&D nurses. But I did have an idea of how I wanted it to go. Eliza's birth was a good experience, but there were several things that I wish I had done differently, so I had a few goals.

1. Stay fed, rested, and hydrated through early labor. Eliza's early labor was 24 hours, and I was so anxious and excited that I forgot to eat or drink enough water. I also walked and paced for about 15 hours of that 24 and didn't sleep for a full night, so I was 100% out of gas by the time real labor hit. I did not want a repeat experience. 
2. Feel like an active part of my birth. Because I was out of gas, I had an epidural basically as soon as I was admitted to the hospital. While I was incredibly grateful and relieved, it also meant that I spent most of my labor just sitting and waiting. And Jake just sat and waited too. It was still an awesome, unforgettable moment when she was born, but the rest of the time I felt semi-removed from the whole thing. 
3. Get prepared. I wanted to really do my research on labor skills for this one so I could really nail goal #4.
4. Labor un-medicated through active labor and possibly transition, but have an epidural for pushing. Big fan of the epidural, and I'm no hero, so it was definitely part of my plan. But I wanted the freedom to move during labor so I could hopefully get my OP baby to roll over into a better position for birth. I was pretty sure that being on my back the whole time wouldn't help.

Early Labor

Early Saturday morning, I took some more Black Cohosh and had more frequent contractions, but nothing major. They were close together, but not strong or consistent. So we all went for a walk together around the neighborhood, stopped at a garage sale, and had a nice breakfast. By about 10am, my contractions were getting a little more regular, but about 15 minutes apart and not too strong. We kept doing our Saturday thing, and at 11:30, Jake and I decided to go on a lunch date. We went to a Thai restaurant and got some delicious curry and pad thai. I was timing contractions at that point, and they were about 7 minutes apart and strong enough that I had to stop eating and talking during each one. Despite being in almost-active labor the whole time, we really enjoyed our date. The restaurant is right next door to the library, so Jake suggested that we go walk through the library after we finished eating. We were there for only about 5 minutes before my contractions were too painful to enjoy the library (and that's pretty painful).

Active Labor

So we came home at about 1:30, and I labored in bed on my side for a while and also while sitting on my birth ball and leaning over the side of the couch. I couldn't do much else besides focus on breathing through each contraction and relaxing completely between each one. I tried hard to embrace each contraction and not fight it or hold tension in my body during it. By 3:30 my contractions were about 3-6 minutes apart and lasting for 45 seconds to 1 minute, and they had been for an hour. I knew this was the time to go to the hospital because of the timing and also because I could just tell. 

Post-birth photos sprinkled throughout the post because I didn't take any labor photos, but this post is long and needs pictures.

At the Hospital

We all went to the hospital together so my mom could drop us off and have the car to go to church the next day. She dropped us off at the door and we headed to L&D on the third floor. We got checked in, and my midwife, Alyssa, came by a few minutes later to check on us. She checked my dilation, and I was at 4 cm, which is not super far along, but she watched me breathe through a few contractions and she told me my bag of waters was bulging (Sorry for using "bag of waters" and "bulging" in the same sentence). So I was admitted, and the nurse (I feel bad that I can't remember her name. She was great.)  got us settled and Alyssa said she'd be back to check on us in a little while. I labored in bed for a while on my side with my legs wrapped around a peanut ball (it's like an exercise ball, but shaped like a peanut, and it helps open and relax the pelvis). My water broke about 30 minutes after we got settled, but nothing really changed immediately. Jake would push on my back and hips through every contraction and feed me ice chips and sips of smoothie between contractions. We were rocking it. I was breathing and relaxing and totally in the moment. It was awesome.

Through every contraction I visualized sprinting down the road by our house in Rigby. Back when I used to run every morning with my friend Tina (like 10 years ago), we would run our usual 4 mile route, and then sprint the last 100 yards to the stop sign at the corner. (It wasn't a competition, because if it was a competition...I'd lose.) Anyway, all that to say, I imagined sprinting that 100 yards over and over again. Early summer morning, trees, fields, sunshine, sky, heart pounding, muscles burning, lungs working, gravel crunching....and then it would end and I gasp and breathe and shake it off. This stage of labor actually felt remarkably similar to running sprints. It was painful but in an athletic way.

After two hours, the nurse came back again (she might have checked on us more frequently, but I don't remember it). She asked if I wanted an epidural yet, and I said, "No....maybe....I don't know." At that point I didn't want an epidural if I was still at a 4 or a 5 and had a ways to go. I was feeling pretty good, and I didn't want to be stuck in bed if I didn't need to be. So I asked her to call the midwife so she could see if I'd progressed at all.

Alyssa came in, and I had to get up to roll over, but moving triggered another huge contraction that lasted what felt like a full five minutes, but was probably only 90 seconds. I breathed and panted through it, and then said, "Hoooooooo...llllyyy........CATFISH!" Both Alyssa and the nurse cracked up at that. They probably were expecting "Holy s**t!" or really any expletive besides "catfish." What can I say? This girl don't cuss.

Alyssa checked, and I was at a 6! Woot! At this point I decided against an epidural for a few reasons:

• As far as we could tell, baby was still OP. I really wanted to get this kid to roll over! 
• I figured if it took me two hours to progress 2 cm, I still had at least 3-4 more hours of labor before it was time to push. 
• Plus, the nurse told me it would only take about 15 minutes to get an epidural after I decided I wanted one. 

So I declined the epidural and went back to laboring on my own. 

The Storm Hits

I changed positions and moved to a hands and knees position. I leaned over the peanut ball so my chest was resting on it and I could hold the headboard and rest back on my knees. Jake was on the bed behind me and squeezing my hips together during every contraction. Between contractions I could let the peanut ball hold my weight and relax. After just a few minutes of this position, my contractions started to get so intense that I needed to groan or yell during each one. I don't know why yelling makes it feel better, but it does. They also started getting way closer together, and I was having a hard time recovering between them. I broke out in a sweat all over and started to shake. A part of my brain said, Oh, this might be transition. But another part of my brain said, Don't be crazy! It's been 10 minutes! 

Luckily, the nurse heard me making a lot of noise and came in to check on me. She asked if I was feeling pushy. "Uh....maybe?" I said. I didn't exactly feel like pushing, but I was feeling a lot of downward pressure and kind of feeling like I needed to poop. (I never actually did poop during labor, as far as I know, which I'm grateful for, I guess. It's less of a big deal than pre-baby me thought it would be.) The nurse said she should probably check me if I was feeling pushy. Good thing she did because I was at an 8! I told her I'd take that epidural now, please and thanks. She ran out of the room to call the midwife and the anesthesiologist and get a consent form and IV fluids.

I went back to yelling through contractions that were now coming about 5 seconds apart. My face and hands started to tingle because I was breathing so hard. I could also feel grinding on my pubic bone, and I hoped that it was baby turning to a good position in my pelvis. I was grateful that he was turning, but OH MY GOSH IT HURT SO BAD!!! It was insane. I did a lot of screaming.

Eventually, the nurse, Alyssa, and the anesthesiologist, all came back. Jake tells me it was about 10 minutes later, but it could have been two minutes or two hours. I had lost all sense of time, space, and self at that point. The anesthesiologist asked me if I wanted a spinal tap or an epidural, and I just looked at her and screamed. Why she thought I was capable of answering a question at that point is beyond me. It didn't matter though because after Jake and the nurse picked me up and turned me on my side (I was incapable of moving), Alyssa said, "It's time to have a baby!"

Wesley Makes His Entrance

I was not prepared to push. It had been 20 minutes since I thought that I had several hours to go! This was not in my plan. I was supposed to have an epidural! But my body had other plans. So on my side, stretched diagonally across the bed, Jake holding one leg and someone else (no clue who) holding the other, I clung to the bed rail, closed my eyes, screamed, and pushed. And screamed. And pushed.

Someone, possibly Alyssa, possibly a nurse, told me to hold in my screaming and use it to push harder. I yelled, "I'M TRYING!" but it truly felt completely involuntary.

I had begged for some kind of pain medicine when told I couldn't have an epidural, so they gave me a half dose of IV narcotics. It did nothing. Complete waste of perfectly good drugs. They did give me oxygen so I didn't pass out from hyperventilating, which was helpful. My face and hands stopped tingling.

Pushing hurt so bad. So bad. But it was over in just a few minutes, and then I felt my baby on top of me. I still had my eyes closed and my whole body was shaking, but I could feel the nurses rubbing him with a blanket. He didn't cry and didn't cry, so I vaguely remember them saying that they needed to cut the cord. He was lifted off of me, but I was still too out of it to feel alarmed. I was trying to breathe and get my eyes to open and keep my body from shaking to pieces. But I did hear him cry just a minute later and felt relieved.

Jake had been a champ all the way through labor and delivery, but as soon as the adrenaline dropped a bit, he was ready to pass out. He typically gets woozy with even hearing a graphic story, so I was amazed and impressed that he'd made it all the way through without keeling over. But as soon as Wes came out, Jake needed to go sit on the cold bathroom floor and put his head between his knees. So I was out of it, and Jake was out of it, and a nurse was left holding Wes. She looked at me and then she looked at Jake and said, "Soooooo, do you want to hold your baby?"

The Aftermath

After a few minutes, Jake felt well enough to hold Wesley. And after I got a few stitches, I was cleaned up and mentally together enough to sit up and hold him. We looked at our sweet boy, pink and healthy. He made adorable new-baby squeaks and yawns and tiny cries, and we cooed over him and kissed his tiny head. He was (is) so cute and perfect. He has a head of peach-fuzz-soft strawberry blond hair, blue eyes, my nose, and Jake's feet. We stared at him and stared at each other, and said, "We did it! We really did it!"

As intense and painful as the previous hour had been, it really did not matter. It's truly a miracle how quickly the pain and trauma become non-issues. Obviously, I didn't forget the pain (this very long post is testament to that) but I just don't care that it hurt.

Wesley is so beautiful and perfect, and we're so grateful to have him in our family.

**Oh, and he did roll over! He didn't come out OP! Good boy. (He did, however, come out with a scrape on the back of his head from turning in my pelvis. Ouch.)**

This Baby is Brought to You by...

Basically, we needed a new reason to buy more bikes.

And also, the time has come for a new season of life. We felt the season changing and decided to move forward in joy and faith. So now I'm pregnant.

Part 1: FAQs 

Are you excited?
Yes. It's like Christmas Eve, if on Christmas Eve you had to experience hours of intense pain before receiving your gift and then not sleep for 18 years. So.....Happy. Joyful. Peaceful. But...excited? It's going to be wonderful and rewarding, but I'm not expecting a vacation.

How are you feeling?
Hungry. Occasionally emotional. Mostly hungry.

When are you due?
July 30.

Boy or girl?
Girl.

Have thought about names?
Yes.

What names have you picked out?
Haven't yet. Won't tell you til we meet the kid first.

Do you have any weird cravings?
Nope. I do enjoy tangy or sour foods slightly more than I did, but I haven't sent Jake to the grocery store at midnight yet.

Can I touch your belly?
Only if you want me to touch yours.

Part 2: First Trimester Sponsors

This baby is brought to you by The Bathroom Floor. The Bathroom Floor: A Solid Place to Spend Half Your Day.

This baby is brought to you by YouTube. YouTube: Distracting You from Nausea Since 2005. 

This baby is brought to you by Water. Water: The Best Liquid to Drink and Then Vomit.

This baby is also brought to you by Saltine Crackers. Saltine Crackers: They Taste Almost the Same Coming Up as They Did Going Down.

This baby is brought to you by Plain Yogurt with a Touch of Honey. Plain Yogurt with a Touch of Honey: Usually Tasty But Sometimes Gaggy. 

This baby is brought to you by Ginger Ale. Ginger Ale: Delicious, But Only When Mixed 50/50 with Sparkling Water.

This baby is also brought to you by Jake. Jake: He Didn't Even Complain After Buying $100 of Groceries and I Refused to Eat Them.

This baby is brought to you by Taco Bell. Taco Bell: When You Need to Make Up a Day's Worth of Calories in One Burrito.

Part 3: Second Trimester Sponsors

This baby is brought to you by Ravenous Hunger. Ravenous Hunger: Wake Up at 5:00am without an Alarm.

This baby is brought to you by Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie. Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie: The Most Delicious Way to Gain Some Pounds.

This baby is brought to you by Chocolate Brownie Clif Bars. Chocolate Brownie Clif Bars: A Thinly Veiled Candy Bar Masquerading as a Meal But Nobody Cares.

This baby is also brought to you by Cucumbers. Cucumbers: They'll Make You Puke Again After You Thought You'd Escaped That Hell.

This baby is brought to you by Bouts of Insane Energy. Bouts of Insane Energy: Get Everything Done in 30 Minutes or Less.

This baby is brought to you by Breakfast. Breakfast: The First Meal of the Day, Assuming You Ever Stop Eating.

This baby is brought to you by Back Sleeping. Back Sleeping: You Only Love It When It's Gone.

Part 4: The Best

It's pretty cool to think about this person who will be part of our family. The ultrasound on Friday was pretty neat. I loved seeing her tiny toes and fingers curl and uncurl. It's also cool to feel tiny baby kicks now and then. I'm finally starting to feel pregnant and happy instead of tired and sick and sad and chubby, so that's a plus. Also, we can't wait to buy tiny bikes! :)

The Suite Life of Jake and Kate

Ok, we're in Wisconsin. Let me tell you about our journey here. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.

 

So, I took Wednesday off of work and packed our whole house. This seems like a monumental feat to most Americans with a crap load of stuff, but this is our fourth move in 18 months, so we've broken up with a lot of things we loved. We simply couldn't deal with the baggage. I took a picture of all of Jake's ties, because they are the most interesting things we own now. (Besides our bikes, obviously.)

Then Thursday, I also took the day off. This time to clean. After Jake and I ate breakfast (scrambled eggs out of the pan, because I literally packed everything except that pan and two plastic forks), I had a little bit of a breakdown and cried for a minute because I hate moving so much, and I just didn't want to do anything except hide under the covers. But Jake talked me through it, and then I could take a shower and function like an adult. I am a whitegloving wizard now, but I still hate it, and it always takes forever. Luckily, I have great friends, and three great ladies came over for a few hours, and we whipped that house clean. This is a picture of the worst part of cleaning, which is that point where everything gets worse before it gets better. (Also, if you want to get that sticky, greasy, dusty film off the buttons and knobs on your stove top, try a paper towel sprayed with a little WD-40. Magic!) That night, six guys from the ward came over to help load the truck. It took about 20 minutes, and everyone said, "Wow, you don't have a lot of stuff. But you do have a lot of bikes." Yes, yes we do.

 

Thursday night, we stayed with my co-worker who conveniently lives in our same complex, (Thanks, Amy!) and got up early to hit the road. We drove across Nebraska for about four hours until we got bored and hungry. We stopped in North Platte and found the library so we could use their WiFi to download some audiobooks. I know, I should have done that before we left. But I had TWO DAYS to prepare! But whatever, it was a cute little library, and they had good WiFi. 

 

After we stopped at the library and Taco John's for disappointing burritos, we drove through this for another six hours. Seriously, Nebraska is SO FLAT. While boring, that part of the drive was the least stressful part of the trip. 

Dun dun DUN!

When we got to the outskirts of Omaha at 7:30 pm, we were getting close to empty in the gas department, and very close to over-full in the bladder department. Plus, we hadn't wanted to stop for dinner. But the GPS told us we only had 25 miles to go, so like a horse pointed home, we kept going. This was at the end of a ten hour drive, and we desperately wanted to get to the hotel. So we pull off the freeway on our exit, and the neighborhood looks a little older, but we're still a ways away from the hotel, so we keep going. The streets keep getting narrow, and all the houses look run down, and there's no sign of the hotel. Then, "You have arrived!"

No, we clearly had not arrived. 

We were in the middle of a residential neighborhood. A sketchy neighborhood. 

"STUPID GPS!" I grabbed the stupid thing and may or may not have chucked it on the floor of the Uhaul. "I am going to put that stupid thing in a box and put that box in another box and mail it to myself and SMASH IT WITH A HAMMER!" (Remember the bladder levels here, and cut me some slack.) So I whipped out my smartphone and started to search for a gas station nearby, because both the gas tank and the bladders were reaching critical levels. 

"Great. There's one three miles away."

So we weave through these tiny little streets with our 15 foot truck pulling our car on a trailer, and we drive down the main street of the most run-down Hispanic neighborhood I have ever seen. All the buildings were sagging and dirty, and all the signs were in Spanish, and the streets were super narrow. Finally, we see the gas station and pull in. 

The pump is broken and they don't have a bathroom. 

We jump back in the truck and head to another one. We try to pull in that one, but the lot is SO tiny that our truck can't fit, so we pull around and head to yet another one. After driving another seven miles, we leave the sketchy part of town and find a gas station with a big enough lot and wide enough streets to navigate through. 

So, gas and bladder crisis averted. But we still have to find our hotel. So we pull up the address again, (the GPS was still fired on the floor of the cab) and use our phones to navigate. We got back on the freeway and promptly missed our exit. Then we backtracked, and got off on the wrong exit. At this point, it was 8:00pm, and I hadn't eaten since 2:00. All the stress of the week and the evening got to me plus my very empty tummy, and I literally curled into the fetal position and cried. All I wanted was to get to our hotel and get out of the car. Thank heavens Jake handles stress in more productive ways. He got us to our hotel, and we got all our suitcases and valuables out of the car, and locked everything up, and found our room. Once we flopped on the bed, we realized we were RAVENOUS. We needed food like we needed air. It was 9:00pm at this point. Jake called Jimmy Johns and asked when they closed. They close at 9:00. He begged them to make one more delivery, and God bless that girl on the phone and Jimmy himself, because she took our order. Ten minutes later, the delivery guy showed up with the best sandwich I have ever eaten. We tipped him generously and thanked him with literal tears in our eyes.

We slept decently well on Friday night, and got early on Saturday for the final leg of our journey. It was raining when we left Omaha, and soon we realized that this enormous rain storm was headed east from Omaha to Milwaukee at exactly the pace we were traveling from Omaha to Milwaukee. Yes, that storm traveled all the way across Iowa with us for 12 hours. It. Never. Stopped. Raining.

After about four hours of driving, the airbag light came on. I called the Uhaul hotline to report it and ask them what we should do. After 30 minutes on hold, a girl finally answered.

"Hello, are you safe?"

"Yes...."

"Are you blocking traffic?"

"No..."

So I've been on hold for 30 minutes and you're asking me if we're safe? Would I have stayed on hold for THIRTY MINUTES if we weren't??? 

Anyway.

She proceeded to read me some paragraph from the manual, and she had to sound out the word "momentarily," so I immediately realized this was a fruitless conversation. The only interesting thing she said was that the airbag may not deploy in an accident. We were ten miles outside of Des Moines at this point, so she gave me the address and phone number of a Uhaul dealer "right off the highway in Des Moines" so we could "run in and have them check the code real quick to make sure it's not serious." That seemed reasonable, so I called the place, who heard "airbag light" and immediately transferred me back to the Uhaul hotline. Ok, we'll just ask them in person. We ended up driving 10 miles off the highway to this Uhaul place, and pulled in. We walked in and talked to the guy who looked exactly like Curly from the Three Stooges. We said we had a light on, and asked if he could check it.

"Oh, I'm not a mechanic. We don't do that here. Did you call the hotline?"

Yes. They sent us here.

After another fruitless conversation, we left in a huff. (Well, I left in a huff. Jake was nice.)

We pulled into a parking lot across the street, and Jake called another Uhaul place in town. After talking to someone for 20 minutes, (Who said he didn't know of any Uhaul place that did maintenance, and did we think about taking it to a Ford dealer? There's no Ford dealer around, but they would probably be a good choice to spend a lot of money fixing someone else's vehicle. Thanks for that, buddy. ) I started to cry again. I was still carrying the stress of the week and Friday night, and I just. could. not. deal. So I called my mom and blubbered for a while and she said nice mom things, and then at the end she said, "So, to sum up, you had a dash light come on, everyone is an idiot, and it's raining."

YES! AND IT IS TERRIBLE! THIS IS A MAJOR CRISIS!

Actually, that made me laugh. So I pulled it together, and we had some lunch at Chipotle and got back on the road. Another six hours of driving, and we finally made it to Grafton, WI.

Tune in next time to hear about why we're living in a hotel.

PS. I'm never moving again.

Cycle September

Ah, September. The month we were married. The blissful, brief moment between blazing summer and freezing winter (In Idaho at least, Colorado is pretty mild.). It's the best month for biking.

It's a well known fact that Jake and I love our bikes. Love them. Three bikes are currently sitting in our living room. If we had all the money in the world, we'd buy a lot of bikes. The number of bikes we need = n + 1, where n = the number of bikes we currently own.*

While we're huge bike nerds and love to mountain bike for fun on the weekends, biking is also a big part of our everyday lives. About a year ago, we started reading a blog called Mr. Money Mustache. If you don't already read it, you should. He's a huge proponent of biking more and driving less, for good reason. Bikes are the greatest mode of transportation ever invented. So we made the easy transition from just biking to school and work to running most of our errands on our bikes. If we don't get lazy, we can usually go three weeks to a full month between filling the car's gas tank. We're healthier, happier (because endorphins), and richer because we bike everywhere.

But in the last two months or so, we've gotten a little bit lazy. So for the month of September, we're challenging ourselves to use the car only to drive to church on Sunday. Everything else must be done by bicycle or carpooling. We got a bike trailer from a garage sale for $20, so we can haul groceries and other things from shopping trips (Side note: We not only save money in gas, but we're much less tempted to run to the store for something or make an impulse purchase because so much more work is required). You're welcome to join us for Cycle September, even if it's just to step outside your comfort zone a little bit by riding to work for a day or running an errand. It's so fun, you'll never go back.

*I realize that it may seem like I undermined my own point. "Oh, so you save money and just buy more bikes?" Sort of, but not really. We each have a mountain bike, a road bike, and a unicycle. All our bikes were purchased used from Craigslist at a small fraction of the original price. And we put enough miles on them to justify the purchases, especially considering the health and happiness gained. 

Fishing

The last year and a half out of college have been interesting to say the least. To summarize:

1. I thought I wanted to do technical writing
2. I got a job doing technical writing
3. I got super duper bored of technical writing
4. We moved
5. I worked myself out of my job
6. I did some freelance work
7. I continued to look for work with no success
8. We moved
9. I decided to earn a second degree in web design and development
10. I got a job as a website administrator
11. I was happy in my new job
12. We moved
13. My hours decreased
14. I looked for work again with no success

So that's about where I was last week. So frustrated, so discouraged. I had just. about. had. it. Stuff Corporate America.

But on the other hand, I so seriously wanted to work and use my talents and not stay home and watch YouTube videos all day. So after another tearful conversation with Jake about how discouraged I was about not getting yet another job I had applied for, he made the inspired/genius suggestion to look for an internship in web design and development.

 I hadn't considered doing an internship, since I Have A Degree and Internships Are For Sophomores, but it made sense. There's a ton of web companies here in town, and since we're moving again in March (Oh yeah, we're moving again. And then moving back. Long story. ) a full time job wasn't likely to work. But internships have the expectation of short term, inexperienced, cheap labor, which makes it more appealing to employers, and I really need the exposure to industry. So it's a win/win.

We just moved here, and I don't really have any connections here, or previous experience in the tech field, so I just started casting lines into the pond to see what bit. I emailed three companies who didn't even have any job openings posted and essentially (in a polite and professional way) said, "You need me, but you don't know that you need me. Please please please read my resume. I'm awesome. Thanks." Yep, I unashamedly begged for an internship with no connection, no referral, knowing that they weren't even looking to hire. But you know what? Who cares. I've lost all sense of shame when it comes to the Job Hunt. I wrote my cover letter in my own writing voice, released a little bit of my inner cheekiness, and confidently laid out what I needed and what I brought to the table.

And it worked. I didn't have great expectations, but it worked. I heard back from one company, and they asked me to come in and interview. I interviewed this morning, and it went really well. They were super nice people, and the company is awesome. So I got home and checked my email 20 minutes later. Bam! Job offer! This is an accurate representation of my behavior for the following 10 minutes.

Happy danced all over the house, y'all. Aaaww yeah.

So that's the story of the only successful fishing experience of my life.