Schmelz revisited

Dear Readers,

I realize now that I have done a disservice to you and all who like fun by burying a glorious link in a long public transportation-related tirade below. So here is the Schmelzy video, in its whole own post, here for your viewing pleasure. I wish I could somehow hold it up like Rafiki holds up Simba on the Lion King, because deep down I think we all want a gem sweater.

My life is a Seinfeld episode

I have the great honor of taking the express bus to school. Usually, it's pretty great. I drive 20 minutes, park, climb aboard, and after an hour of study and/or naptime, I arrive at my destination. Not a bad deal, and a hell of a lot better than 90 miles on my car every day, oodles of gas money, no study time, and contributing to the smoggy haze. So, minus a few bad experiences, public transportation and I are pretty good friends. The last express bus to leave the school is at 5:45, and if I miss that, I'm toast.

Yesterday, at 6 PM, I was still waiting at the busstop, shivering my butt off as the express bus was late. Nose loses feeling and hands turn purple as I continue standing there at 6:20. Someone calls the bus people only to find out that the express bus got in an accident; they're sending a replacement but have NO IDEA WHEN IT WILL GET THERE and recommend we take an alternate route. Well, poop all over my face. The "alternate route" is 15 minutes across campus (note that I make it a point to never leave the law school, so campus is unknown territory), and takes TWICE AS LONG as the express bus as it stops at every 2 feet along state street, and leaves at 6:30. So, it's 30 degrees and I have 7-8 minutes to make a 15 minute trek while carrying all my damn books, just to take 2 effing hours to get to my car, which is still an additional 20 minutes from home. And I'm hungry.

Can you feel my delight?

At this moment of despair, three Schmelzes (that means uber-frumps) begin--and I am not making this up-- singing songs. From Hairspray. At the top of their lungs. Where the hell am I??

So, I start booking it across campus only to realize that Team Schmelz is going there too. Singing the whole way. Don't worry. Lucky for me, they have RECORDED THEMSELVES SINGING ON ONE OF THEIR CELL PHONES, AND BEGIN PLAYING IT BACK. So, I get to listen to double Good Morning Baltimore, offkey and Schmeltified. Poop all over my face.

After a few minutes of speed walking and switching my shoulder bag a couple of times, I (and the handful of people walking with me) realize we are not going to make it unless we run.

Note: I don't run anyway, but when IT IS 30 DEGREES and I am pregnant and therefore get out of breath walking up stairs, let alone running across campus, and I HAVE A COLD, and am basically CARRYING 3 VOLUMES OF ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITTANICA, this could get ugly. So I run for a few minutes and quickly realize this is not going to work, so begin walking. Only to realize that I cannot breathe, and in addition to that fact, I have fallen behind the damn group walking to the other stop, and I am totally unfamiliar with campus and DON'T KNOW WHERE THE STOP IS. Poop all over my face.

I turn the corner and see the bus pull up, so run there as fast as I can, and climb aboard dripping sweat, red face from cold and despair, coughing nastily and COMPLETELY out of breath, not just gasping but hardcore seizure-esque wheezing. Everyone stares at me like "Why can't the lady with ten thousand law books run like a human being instead of a special-needs turtle?" and I want to explain that I am sick and 5 months pregnant and NOT in a mood to be messed with, but am so out of breath that all I can do is peel off my coat and think about how I'm not getting to my car for 2 more hours.

But at least I caught the bus. Our bus turns onto a major street and guess what's right in front of us?

That's right. The express bus.

Utah Baby Names

Props to my dear friend Reim for leading me to this glorious link about what NOT to name your kid if you're a Utah Mormon (or really anyone else for that matter, but Utah Mormons are the only ones that'd even be tempted).

Visit "The Cream of the Crop" list on that site, and you'll discover my favorite category:

Girls you just know have big, floofy hair: Blondeen, Rayette, Faundaree, Shazette, Shasheena, Honilynn, Najestica, Teasa, Shazzanna, Pluma, Bobbette, Blonda, Breezy, Wenderella, Aquanetta, Brinderella, Dazzlyn, Trendee, Tressa.

Our baby is so lucky we have these to choose from.

da baby

Today, we went to the baby doc. A nice lady schlopped some goop on my belly and moments later we got a nice, close look at our kid's growing, healthy body...we're talking lips, spine, mouth, rump...you name it, we saw it, and it was out-of-control awesome. Does anyone else think it is SO FANTASTIC AND CRAZY THAT IT IS POSSIBLE FOR A CHILD TO GROW INSIDE YOU!??

Anyway, we love you, baby. And, today I have learned an important lesson: I will never place any bets based on polls of my blog readership, because only 33% of them guessed correctly: this baby is a girl!

give some thanks

Three years ago, I entered the MTC, and now I'm married, knocked up, and halfway through law school, so yes it's been a helluva few years. Since Thanksgiving's approaching, I'm going to take a few minutes to be a cheese, and it's my blog so I'll cheese if I want to, cheese if I want to, cheese if I want to (begin singing Leslie Gore's 1963 smash hit, It's My Party)...

I'm going to steal Marlin K. Jensen's statement from the PBS Mormons documentary because it captures my feelings exactly. Talking about his mission, he said:

"That was the moment, really, when my hope and my tender belief turned into something really solid, which has been the foundation for the rest of my life. It's what motivates me. It's what gets me up in the morning. It's what carries me in the duties that I do. It's what gives me joy and satisfaction from knowing that my way in life is the way I should be going. And it came about in that moment. So when people say, "How was your mission?," I say it was everything, because I've never been the same since that little moment."

I had 2 Thanksgivings on my mission, the first one in the MTC and the second one in a trailer park. The second one was the best ever; we had breakfast with a family of little kids where I watched the 5 year old pick up every single muffin in the bowl, smell it, lick it, and put it back. His sister's hands were red with koolaid or something, and she climbed up on the counter and patted the thawing turkey, then sucked her fingers, then started touching our faces. And you know what? We just laughed and hugged her and it wasn't gross, it was endearing. We served at the Joseph Smith Farm that afternoon, then for dinner, we went to a trailer park across town for some lumpy punch, meatballs and ham. Their dog pooped on some newspaper in the hallway and they just threw it away and laid some more newspaper down. One of the nicest, most down-home days of my life.

And I remember how overwhelmed I was three years ago, when I didn't know what I was getting into, and just sat in some stuffy classroom in the MTC, prayerful and hopeful but with no clue what was coming...and it ended up being 10,000 times better than I could have imagined, with crazy ups and downs and more joy than I knew was possible. And on top of all that, I later had the privilege of marrying a champion, which was even better than the happiest happy I'd felt before. So I remember those MTC-feelings of uncertainty about the future, and feeling inadequate and 12 years old on the inside, and I look down at my growing belly and feel the same uncertainty, the same inadequacy, the same "Wait, I'm actually 12, this is a mistake" but times a billion, because this is a little person we are responsible for. And sure, it's only the size of a large mango right now, but this kid is going to have a life that we're supposed to help with. And I don't know yet if it's a he-baby or a she-baby, but I look down and wonder who our baby will be, and what our baby will see, and if it'll ever know how much we love it, and I'm overwhelmed at how much I want our kid to feel what I felt on my mission, and I'm scared we'll mess him or her up very badly, and then I remember my mission, and Thankgiving, and what good care God has always taken of me, and I feel better.