I think I was tagged...

So, I believe my friend Aubrey tagged me, but with a name as generic as mine, it is hard to know if she was meaning me or one of the hundreds of other people with my name. No, really, there is a website (www.howmanyofme.com) that will tell you how many people have your name... ~670,000 people in the US with the first name "Amy". And 304 people with the name "Amy Larson". So awesome being just one of the hundreds...

Anyway, since I have been tagged, I have to tell 6 unique things about myself. 6 unique things that I am not embarrassed to admit...

How about I tell 6 unique things about Corbyn instead... that is much more interesting and funny:

#1: Corbyn is a sleep talker. And in his dreams, he is always either hanging out with 80's rock stars (Sammy Hagar, Ozzy, etc.) or battling a creature from Doom or Halo. Until about a month ago, when, in the middle of the night, he yelled, "CANDY CORN!!!" in his sleep. I don't think that dream had anything to do with rock stars or video games. And then I asked him, "Did you just yell Candy Corn?" And he says, "Yes" all irritated at me, like it is totally normal for people to yell Candy Corn in their sleep.

#2: Corbyn spends a lot of time in the bathroom. OK, not super unique - this is something that most men do, but Corbyn will disappear into the bathroom for an hour with a magazine. No exaggeration. Like I said - I know it isn't unique, but I am just posting this because someone just called for him, he is in the bathroom, and I have to tell the caller that he is "occupied" at the moment and he will have to call them back. When will he be available? A very good question... I also would like to know. Anyone figure out a method to predict when men will conclude the business they have to conduct in their "office"?

#3: Corbyn had a mullet in high school. OK, he didn't really - he just had some long, flowing hair, but he gets really irritated when people say it was a mullet and you all know how much I love to be irritating... I am going to try to get a picture of this for you all to see- it is pretty funny. With long, flowing hair like that, no wonder he dreams about hanging out with 80's rock stars...

#4: Corbyn is always right. I know - you don't think it is possible for someone to be right ALL the time - that is what I used to think, too. But, that is why I am including it on his list of unique things. Really, he is ALWAYS right. It has only taken me a little over 8 years of knowing him and 2 years of marriage to finally figure that out. :)

#5: Corbyn is super cheap. Well, kind of. He buys skim milk because it is $.25 cheaper, but will drop a couple hundred dollars on a MX Tuner for his motorcycle without thinking twice. Or telling his wife. (Yeah, don't ask me what an MX Tuner is. All I know is that it has something to do with the fuel injection on his motorcycle and we are now the proud owners of one.)

#6: Corbyn is an AWESOME snowmobile rider. And it is really hot. The first time I ever saw Corbyn snowboard, I thought, "Wow - that is Corbyn at his hottest." Then I saw him do math and I thought, "No, that is Corbyn at his hottest." (Yeah, it is a weird thing... I suck at math, so I find it incredibly attractive when someone else is good at it.) Then I saw him lifting weights and I thought, "OK, THAT is Corbyn at his hottest." (*Note: this is mostly looking everywhere other than Corbyn's face. Corbyn's weight lifting face looks something like what I imagine my giving birth face looked like.) Then, I saw Corbyn in a suit and I thought, "No, really. THAT is Corbyn at his hottest." And then I saw him ride motorcycles and I thought, "Ultimate hotness - right there." And then, I saw him ride a snowmobile. I don't know what it is, but wow - sooooo hot. (OK, and now that I have seen him with Rhian, he surpassed even snowmobile riding, but men with babies are always hot.) Anyway - Corbyn is such a good snowmobile rider that his family won an award for "Snowmobiling Family of the Year" in 2007 for the state of Idaho. He even got a jacket with his name embroidered on it. (Spelled incorrectly, of course.) Be sure to congratulate him on it next time you see him - he will be nice and embarrassed.

There you go. 6 unique things about Corbyn. Now, I get to tag some other people. So, I tag: Devri, April, Karen, Hannah, Tamara, Kristen.

Babies float - who knew?

My family's Christmas party was this past weekend and Corbyn and I decided that 3 weeks is the perfect time to introduce Rhian to swimming. Sh

e seemed to LOVE it. She got all stiff when we first put her in the water, but quickly relaxed and just hung out. And really seemed to love it... she was so relaxed that she was actually doing the back float. (We supported her head - she has such 

a big brain, it always seemed to want to sink, but the rest of her just totally floated.) Here are some pics.

When we first put her in the water, her arms and legs flailed a bit and she sure got all stiff. (Notice the claws...)

You can't really see very well in the picture, but Corbyn is only holding her head... the rest of her is all floating. 

The water was a little cold for her in the pool, if you can't tell. She pulled some pretty funny faces.

She relaxed a lot easier in the hot tub.

Corbyn dunked her a couple times... Rhian is either going to love water or be terrified of it. But she actually didn't seem to mind it at all. OK, so the picture above is a little freaky. If you click on it, you can see an eye under the water.

Trying to go into labor

So, I tried just about everything to go into labor... spicy foods, going for a walk, shampooing carpets, painting, OTHER THINGS - nothing worked. However, it did make for a productive couple weeks. My last attempt to go into labor was to put wood flooring in our kitchen and bathroom. Here are some pics. All the squatting required was certainly not comfortable with a past-due belly - you would think that would initiate labor, but it didn't. Well, at least we got the floor done - I went into labor two days later. Poor Corbyn had to finish up all the final boring stuff (putting in baseboards, caulking, etc.)by himself while I wandered around our house counting the minutes between contractions and praying they would hurry and get to 2-3 minutes so I could go to the hospital and get my dang epidural.

Oh, and the picture of Corbyn with the mask on his face over the toilet: We had to pull up the toilet so we could install the wood floor under it. Corbyn is such a baby about that stuff (yeah, he hasn't changed a diaper yet). He was positive that is was going to stink, so he required a mask and a bunch of towels and blankets that could be thrown away if any toilet water touched them. He was so paranoid about the toilet water... wouldn't touch anything that might be contaminated by it... and then when he sat the toilet down in the garage, a little water spilled out of the toilet onto his shoe. He was SO mad. It was hilarious.

Oh, yeah. I cut off my hair.

It was actually pretty cool. I donated it to Locks of Love and I have so much freaking hair that it was 3 separate donations. So, I guess there is SOME good from having hair that is, "like, not normal for humans." (A direct quote from my cousin Melanie's husband, Nate. Thanks, Nate.)

Me with my new short(er) hair. And Rhian in the only dress that fits her. (Yes, it is pink. Sorry, Chuck.)

Our little boy Ryan

So, we only had two little outfits that fit Rhian, and with her power pooping problem, that wasn't near enough. So, I asked Corbyn to pick up some onsies at Walmart while he was getting some milk. He saw the blue section, saw the pink section and felt "uncomfortable" going to the pink section so he picked up some nice blue onsies with basketballs, footballs, baseballs, and sayings like, "Let's play ball!" all over them. Apparently, Corbyn doesn't know that clothes are the only way to tell the difference between boy and girl newborns... and with a name like Rhian, we REALLY need to dress our little girl in pink.

Yeah, this is what I have to deal with. If Corbyn feels uncomfortable going into the pink baby section, imagine the looks I get when I even mention I need to pick up feminine items. Or if he inadvertantly follows me to the feminine items section. Or if I even happen to put them in the shopping cart when we are shopping together. Or if they are in the same shopping bag as anything of his. You get the picture.

Labor sucks

OK, so writing about labor is hard. I don't want to share TOO many details because it gets gross too fast. Not to mention that I doubt you all care too much. So, here are the high points:

• Labor is the worst thing ever. I have never felt so wimpy in my life... I hear people talk about how their labor was fast and relatively painless - they got the epidural and life was all good. And it makes me feel like an absolute wimp... I thought I was going to DIE before I got the epidural.
• Corbyn and I managed to get caught in both morning and evening rush hour traffic. How? Well, we got sent home the first time we went to the hospital. Yeah, kind of embarrassing, but in my defense, they told me to come in when the contractions were 5-6 minutes apart. We went when they were 6-7 minutes apart, they strapped me up to all the monitors, but my labor was just not progressing fast enough to keep me. So, we turned around and went home through morning rush hour traffic. They told me to come back when they were 2-3 minutes apart... which just happened to be during evening rush hour traffic. Awesome.
• Something you never want to hear during labor (or any medical procedure, for that matter), "That's not good." Yeah, I was hunched over, waiting for the epidural guy to finish his work. I am trying very hard to hold still during contractions and I hear Corbyn say, "Is that blood?" and the epidural guy say, "Uh, yeah. That's not good." After all the horror stories you hear about epidurals, that is really not a good thing to hear.
• The hospital has some awesome puker bags. Yeah, if you have been reading my blog much, you know that I am apparently a puker when I am pregnant. Some guys at my work kindly supplied me with barf bags to carry in my car (thanks, Bryan). But, they are nothing compared to these awesome puker bags the hospital has. I actually took some when I left (Ssshhhh.) And, Corbyn got to witness me puking, for the first time of the pregnancy. I had been so careful, but there was no hiding it when I was strapped to the bed.
  
• I think it was almost as intense for Corbyn as it was for me. The trips to the hospital were very... uh... bumpy. I don't think he liked seeing me in pain because he was all over the gas and the brakes - very abruptly. It was actually pretty cute that he was so worked up about it.
• Same as above... the intensity caused Corbyn to make some strange, non-Corbynish decisions. We had both agreed that he would stay north of the border during the whole ordeal. During the heat of the moment, they asked him if he would like to help while I was pushing and he said yes! He wasn't thinking straight... I wasn't thinking straight- I thought I must be hallucinating or something. Had I been thinking straight, I would have said stopped him. But, luckily, it didn't take long for him to come to his senses. He assisted for one contraction (3 pushes) and then said, "I can't do this," and came back up by my head.
• I can't believe some women have to push for several hours. I only had to push for 45 minutes and she was born. The statistics say that most first time mothers have to push for 1-3 hours... I can't even imagine. I was completely beat after 45 minutes - if I would have had to keep going, I can't imagine that my pushing would have been very effective.
• The table they pull in for the final minutes of pushing reminded me of Braveheart and the table of torture devices they pull up for the final scene. It is covered with a white cloth, but you get some glimpses of some weird looking devices when they start moving that cloth around... and some of the stuff really makes you wonder what in the heck they would use something like for. 
• Another line you don't want to hear during any medical procedure: (doctor to nurse) "I can only find 7 sponges. Did you pick one up?" Yikes - for a minute, I was thinking of Seinfeld and the Junior Mint. (Don't worry - they found it.)
• If you are prone to nightmares - prepare yourself. Labor will haunt your dreams for several days.
  

There are probably other highlights, but I am trying to block most of the worst memories, so that is all I will include for now, other than some pictures of the prize at the end. :)

Initiation to motherhood: I got pooped on last night.

Well, I have LOADS to blog about, so I will be trying to catch up over the next couple days because I KNOW you all care. But, let's start with the most important things first: I got pooped on TWICE in one day. Well, technically, I guess to was over the course of two days, because the most traumatic event occurred at 3:00 am.

So, here we go: Our poor little Rhian developed some SERIOUS diaper rash. The pediatrician recommended Bag Balm (which was funny - he said, "Are either of you familiar with Bag Balm?" and then looked very surprised when we both said yes... he has no idea.)
So, we have been laying Rhian out diaperless (with LOADS of rags under her to catch any poop) so her little bum can air out. We thought rags UNDER her bum would be fine. We didn't know we needed rags covering a 1 foot radius in all directions. Luckily (unluckily), I was able to catch the majority of her explosion on myself, saving our couch. Disgusting.

So, we put her to bed. 2:30 AM comes around - time for her early morning feeding. I wake up, I feed her, I take her to change her diaper. She is all clean, and suddenly, it happens. Old Faithful erupts. We are talking volcanic eruption poop. Guinness Book of World Record Poop. To compound this, I had her legs in the air for the application of Bag Balm, which aimed her bum upward, allowing for more loft with the eruption. I didn't measure it, but I am pretty sure that 5 feet is no exaggeration of the distance. And it was not a small amount. It covered everything in it's path... me, our Love Sack, the floor, etc. I yell, in my shock and disgust, "Corbyn, HELP!" No response. I look at Rhian, thinking perhaps she would be giving me a face that would indicate that she had either been constipated, angry, SOMETHING that would be a future indication to me that this might be about to occur. Her eye were half closed... she wasn't even hardly awake. So, I spend the next hour and a half trying to clean up the HORRIBLE mess she has made all over the room and myself - but not an easy task when 1. it is the middle of the night and 2. you are as blind as me and don't have your contacts in.

And, of course, here is the kicker - after my cry of desperation to Corbyn for help... after 1 1/2 hours of disgusting cleaning up of poop - I walk into our bedroom to finally go to sleep and there is Corbyn, sawing some major logs. He slept through the whole traumatic incident. The next morning, I told him about it and told him we really needed to buy a carpet shampooer. He thought I was a little crazy... until he went to the scene of the "incident". Apparently, I hadn't done quite as good of a job cleaning up as I had thought. So, Corbyn spent a good deal of time scrubbing the carpet and then promply logged on to Amazon to purchase a carpet shampooer.

And now, I am afraid. Every time a change her diaper, I hold something in the path of the poop-hole. And airing her out diaperless? Forget about it. Her diaperless days are DONE. Frankly, I am concerned about a diapers ability to withstand the force of her poops... if the force behind the poop can be correlated to her size and will grow as she grows... um, give her just a couple weeks and we are going to be duct taping the diapers on her because that weeny tape on the diaper certainly won't hold. A few months? Geez, I don't even know if there is a man made material that could stop the eruption. Yikes.

Rhian Soraya Larson has arrived!!!

I will, of course, post tons of pictures soon, and details soon, but our little girl has arrived and she is adorable (of course). She has tons of hair (big surprise) and a dimple in her chin.

The picture you've all been waiting for...

I laughed so hard I cried - my manly husband was so terrified, he looks sick.

Click on the picture so you can see a larger version - it is hilarious.

I am trunky - I'll admit it.

Tomorrow is my last day of work before maternity leave. I can't help it - I am totally trunky. I have a handful of items to wrap up and then I am home-free for 2 months. SOOOOO excited.

Also, I have my doctors appt today. I am really hoping the doctor gives me better news than last week. OK, it wasn't really bad news last week, but after 9 months of puking, I am ready to get this baby out of me, so when the doctor says I am not dilated at all, it is kind of a bummer. Hopefully, I will be dilated to a 5 when I go in today and they can just take me straight over to the hospital. (I know, keep dreaming.)

Well, time to leave for work.

It is a wonder the human race hasn't died out...

It is a good thing people don't go to birthing classes BEFORE they get pregnant, because otherwise, our species would cease to exist.

So, last weekend, Corbyn and I went to a birthing class. First of all, it was LONG. I think I spent more time learning about birth than a lot of women actually spend giving birth. Yeah - 4 hours Friday night and 8 hours Saturday. LONG!

A couple of key take-aways from the class:

• Corbyn is not great at role-playing. They were trying to get us to practice breathing techniques and pretend like we are having contractions, and trying to get the husbands to play the role of the supportive coach. We watched a video where the husband kept saying things like, "You are being so strong", "You are doing so well", "You are so amazing", etc. Yeah, right. Can you really see Corbyn saying stuff like that? His coaching was more along the lines of, "It doesn't hurt, does it?" Anyway, he kept making me laugh... hopefully, that works when I am actually in labor.
• Birthing class sucks even worse for soon-to-be-fathers than soon-to-be-mothers. This is hard to call, really, whose side the scale of unpleasantness tips towards. At least the man doesn't have to know that the horrible things happening in the video will soon be happening to him. But, in my experience, men are uncomfortable with anything "down there". So, having to watch babies come out of several "down there"'s on TV has got to be ultra-unpleasant. Not to mention watching large women demonstrate the proper form when breast feeding. And although I still think, given just those things, the balance tips in favor of it being worse for women, once you start practicing comfort techniques for birth, I think the scale tips back in favor of the men. Because that is nothing but awesome for the woman. Their husbands have to practice giving massages until the teacher tells them to stop. (Made the birthing class almost worth it.) Of course, Corbyn spent almost as much time trying to push me over on the birthing ball as he did massaging, but still...
  
• I don't have to go to the bathroom nearly as much as other women. I always thought I had a small bladder, but in a class that long, you learn how small a pregnant woman's bladder really is. I am very happy to report that I went less than all the women... even less than some of the men. (Although, they may have been using it as an escape more than anything. I, on the other hand, was terrified to leave in case I missed the one key secret to a minimal pain labor.)
• Someone needs to invent a third option. No, really. The current options suck. Option A: Push a watermelon through the eye of a needle, (Sorry Mom, I know that is kind of gross, but did I mention I am terrified?) Option B: Get sliced in half, have your muscles pulled apart and a baby pulled out, (Does this remind anyone else of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom when he cuts the guys heart out while the poor guy watches himself being ripped apart?)... where is Option C?!?!!!?? That is the one I want - Option C. One that doesn't involve being stitched back up anywhere.
• La Leche League is trying to pull a fast one on the entire female gender. Don't get me wrong. I believe in the benefits of breast feeding and totally plan to give it a whirl, but from what I have heard, it can be more painful than the labor itself, because it doesn't last only 24 hrs and end with a miracle... it just keeps hurting and the miracle is what is causing the pain. But, watching the videos, La Leche describes it as "minor discomfort". "If it hurts, you are doing it wrong... but don't stop! Just keep trying. You will figure it out." I have this suspicion that it really does just always hurt, but they figure if they keep telling you that you must be doing it wrong and to keep trying, by the time you throw in the towel, you will have been trying for at least several months, so they have won. And the mother-model for the video? Smiling serenely as if it is the most pleasant experience of her life. I mean, why can't they just be honest? Why can't they just say, "It will hurt like a mother, but it is something you should do for the good of your child."
• Lastly - Corbyn's #1 take-away from the birthing class: Women look fine going in and coming out of labor, but there is NOTHING beautiful about the miracle of birth.
  

Possibly the greatest Cowboy song ever

I had my playlist on random today and right between an Audioslave and Weezer song, this song played and reminded me how it is one of the greatest songs of all time.

Hill-billy, Redneck, Hick... whatever you want to call it - I am not ashamed of my roots.

Enjoy.

Vegas - 2008

I had to go to Las Vegas for a conference and Corbyn and I went down early with one of our friends to make a little vacation out of it. (A sad replacement for our cancelled Central America trip, but better than nothing.)

So, for those of you who don't know, Corbyn doesn't like heights. We went to Hoover Dam (which is very, very cool) and it made him feel a little shaky. See pics - (and notice my big prego belly - oh, yeah.)

Did you know that Hoover Dam is one of the 7 wonders of the world?

So, Hoover Dam was a stretch for Corbyn... we kicked it up a notch after that. Corbyn had been talking about how he wanted to ride some roller coasters in Vegas, but was blaming my pregnancy as the reason he couldn't. Well, since Zach came with us, it kind of called his bluff (Vegas language) - we went to the top of the Stratosphere to ride the rides.

First of all, Corbyn was too queasy being up that high to even stand next to the edge. (See picture of me and Zach - Corbyn wouldn't come that close to the

edge.)

So, Corbyn and Zach went on the Big Shot first. I have the FUNNIEST picture of Corbyn that I have ever seen riding the Big Shot, but you are going to have to wait for it, because it is on a thumb drive that is formatted for a PC, so we can't pull it off using our Mac. But, take my word for it, it is HILARIOUS. Zach and I were both laughing so hard we were crying when we saw it. And, I forked over $20 to buy it... it is that funny,

At that point, Corbyn was pretty much done. It took some serious persuading, but we finally convinced him to go on this other ride. (See pics) This ride pretty much just dropped you off the side of the Stratosphere, stopped you abruptly hanging over the edge, and just let you hang out there for awhile. There was a group of old ladies behind me watching Zach and Corbyn ride - it was 3 minutes of listening to 6 70-80 year old women saying, "OOOOoooooohhhhhh", "Oh, my goodness" and "Oh, no!" I think their hearts may have been pumping harder than Zach and Corbyn's. I was pretty sure I was going to have to perform CPR on at least one of them before the ride was over. (If Corbyn's face doesn't give away how scared he was, check out the veins in his arms. He has one of those gripper things (Captain of CRUSH) to build your forearms - all that muscle he built up was clearly put to good use on this ride.)

Other things we did:

• Shark Reef Aquarium
  
• ICE - Some Russian ice skating show (It was actually better than we expected when we first walked in to the theater at the Riviera.)
  
• Bodies Exhibit - I know you think that a bodies exhibit in Vegas is referring to something... um, R-rated, at the least, but I am talking about the exhibit that shows real (not alive) human bodies and their components. It was pretty awesome - it is in Salt Lake right now and I recommend it to anyone who doesn't have a weak stomach.
  
• Gambled - Ok, not really. I wanted to, but since I didn't want to lose too much money, I did some research and found that the Hooters Casino has the cheapest tables. Corbyn wasn't super excited to gamble, so I had to talk him into it. I think it is probably a rarity - that the wife has to convince the husband to go to Hooters. So, we went, but it was packed and super smokey, so we left. (Second-hand smoke probably doesn't do great things for the baby.) We did each gamble $1 in the nickel slots at the Riviera while we waited for our show to start. Corbyn lost his $1. I won $15. How many people can say they got a 1500% return on their money in Vegas?
• A LOT of eating - sadly, buffets are somewhat wasted on a pregnant lady... not enough room to get your moneys-worth. I still did my best, though.

A glimpse into greatness...

So, most of you know that a couple months ago, my boss and mentor Kevin passed away. I was thinking about him today and I wanted to share a little glimpse into Kevin's greatness - this is a list Kevin created to provide those who worked for him clarity on what he expected of them, his philosophy on management, and what he expected of himself. He shared this list with me a couple years ago when I first started working for him and it is awesome insight into who Kevin was. He encouraged me to create my own list (which I won't bore you with), but I think everyone should do it... even if it isn't for work, do it for yourself personally. It is interesting to see what you believe in, what you think you believe in, and to see where you come up short. (I try to compare my actions with my list to see if I actually live according to the principles I claim about myself.)

This is Kevin's list - I will restrain myself to only putting the list itself in here, despite the fact that I really want add stories that show how Kevin personified this list - Kevin was what he believed he was, which is not extremely common, in my experience.

Behavioral Expectations

• Behave like an owner - be the master of your projects
• Have an opinion - what do you recommend?
• Be reliable and deliver what was agreed to: results and timing
• Be accountable: "victim" mentality is unacceptable
• Be thorough and accurate on everything, even the small things
• No surprises
• Come to meetings prepared and on-time
• Ask questions
• Anticipate your managements questions
• Take risks - learn from mistakes
• Provide me with feedback
• Take personal responsibility for maintaining a work/life balance

Management Philosophy

• Lead by example
• If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there
• Be bigger than life- physically fit, spiritually fit, confident
• Go for the jugular
• Acquire professional expertise
• Cultivate influential friends (build networks)
• Communicate well
• Simplify everything
• Knowledge is power. Know your projects, know your competition
• Select capable, loyal people- Invest in their development
• Be honest

My Role

• Provide clear strategic direction
• I am accountable for everything
• Lead management thinking
• Manage your development to get you promoted
• Identify and eliminate development opportunities
• Showcase your accomplishments
• Motivate, coach, provide opportunities to grow

I signed up for Facebook - oops.

Facebook and Twitter are the newest, hottest things in my industry. EVERY large company is trying to figure how they should be integrated into these social networking platforms. At my work, we had a couple ideas on how to utilize this, and to explore/demonstrate these ideas, I had to sign up for an account. I didn't really think much of it at the time - just another work project. Critical mistake, however- I use my actual data. (Name, schools, etc.)

Now, suddenly, I have started getting loads of friend requests. Several from people I don't know (weirdos), but mostly from people I went to high school and college with. Soooo, what I am I supposed to do? I feel totally sucked in. I feel like I can't ignore these friendship requests from people I used to know... they might take it personally and think I am mean. But, I don't really have much desire to get involved in this right now either - I was just doing it for work. So what do I do? I decide I have to accept these friendship requests. So, I go in and accept these requests and think my obligation of friendship to past acquintances is complete - You're my friend - let's call it good.

Not the end of the story, however. Apparently, when you log into your account, it tells people who are in your network that you are logged in. How did I learn about this feature? Well, because I was in a meeting, projecting my computer screen for about 8 people to see, demonstrating some ideas for integration with social networking. I sign into my Facebook account to demonstrate what I am talking about, and suddenly, I get an Instant Message (through Facebook) saying, "Long time, no talk. How's life?" from someone I haven't seen since high school. I quickly close the IM, realizing this poor girl is going to think I am incredibly rude for ignoring her, but I am at work AND in a meeting and really don't have much choice. I resume my demonstration, and suddenly, "Amy Guymon! You got married? I didn't think that was ever going to happen!" pops up on my screen. Same thing- poor guy is going to think I am the devil, but I don't have much of a choice. And I think- surely that has got to be it... surely there aren't THAT many people just hanging out on Facebook, waiting for poor unsuspecting suckers to log in. Well, about 3 minutes later, up comes, "Hey!!! It's the human alphabet! How's it going?"

At that point, I am so red and embarrassed, and everyone else is laughing so hard and having WAAAY too much fun speculating about what the heck that message means - that I can't take it anymore. I just quickly sign out, shut down my browser, log off the internet, and hope that whatever peephole Facebook has opened letting these people know I am online has been closed. And now, I refuse to go back. I am terrified now to sign in to Facebook - scared that there are just hoards of people waiting to pounce as soon as I log in. So, if you want to be my Facebook friend - I am sorry. I refuse to sign in to accept your friendship. I am scared of the consequences.

Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap

My team works very closely with the E-commerce team (obviously - we are the Online Marketing team... Online/Ecommerce - you see the connection.) So, to make sure we have a nice cohesive working relationship between members of the team, we try to schedule a couple cross-department team building activities each year. This picture is from a hike we took in early June this year - we hiked to the top of some mountain behind Draper (don't ask me the name of it.) So, what is this guy doing? We were up high enough that there was still snow around this spring - I told this guy I would buy him a bag of Corn Nuts if we would sit in the spring for 15 seconds wearing all his clothes. (The spring was FREEZING.) He held out... until I offered 2 bags of Corn Nuts. He sure looked ridiculous (and uncomfortable) hiking back down the mountain with the whole back side of his jeans completely soaked. I thought it was hilarious. Have I ever mentioned how easily entertained I am?

So, one other funny picture - this is a picture of a couple of us sitting down for lunch on this hike. Notice who happens to have the pile of food. In my defense, I was pregnant at the time. :) OK, actually, I was one of only two people who thought to bring a back pack. So, I was lucky enough to haul EVERYONE'S sandwiches, chips, and drinks up the mountain. Incidentally, when we got to the top, one of the guys I work with said, "Amy, you really shouldn't be carrying that heavy bag while you're pregnant." Yeah, AFTER we got to the top.

And what the heck does "stat" mean anyway?

I have seen ER - I know that when there is a gunshot victim, doctors need 2 quarts of saline and a blood transfusion "stat!" So, I always assumed "stat" meant fast, immediately, emergency, etc. But people keep coming in here to get their blood drawn and the blood drawers (what is their official title?) keep asking if it is "stat". I assume these people walking in here very leisurely aren't gunshot victims and that if this was an emergency, these people would be at a hospital emergency room, not a lab. So, does anyone want to fill me in on what "stat" really means in the medical environment?

Twilight - apparently, it is a big deal

I haven't jumped on the Twilight bandwagon. (I managed to successfully completely avoid the Harry Potter bandwagon - I haven't read a word of any of the books or watched more than 30 seconds of the movie.) But apparently, people are almost fanatical about this book series. The women in this clinic haven't stopped talking about it in the 2 1/2 hours I have been here. All about the characters and how someone has some special power that hasn't been used yet (or something). And about how the author borrowed the first 300 pages of her latest book to a friend to get her opinion and the friend posted it on the internet, so now the author has decided she may never finish the series (insert anger at the friend and some sniffs of sadness here).

Vampires in high school... I just don't get it.

What kind of idiot decided 3 hours of fasting would work for pregnant women?

I failed my first blood glucose test, which means I may have gestational diabetes. But, the test has a high rate of false positives, so it means I get to come hang out at this clinic for 3 hours FASTING while they do a more in-depth blood glucose test. I have several issues with this:

Issue #1. The doctor said I could leave between my hourly blood draws. So, Corbyn and I showed up planning to do a little shopping between the pokes of the needle. But, apparently, we were misinformed - you can't leave because a lot of women faint, throw-up, etc. during this test. Also, you can't expend much energy because that could influence the results. So, instead of getting some needed errands done, I now just have to hang out and waste 3 hours of my life. (Luckily, my laptop goes with me where ever I go, so at least I can be doing something during these 3 hours.) - And poor Corbyn - he was trying to be a good, supportive husband and now got sucked in to 3 hours of wasted time. (He actually left and is going to come back to get me, but considering it takes 30 minutes each way to get here, he pretty much just wasted 2 hours of his morning.)

Issue #2: If you throw up, you have to start the test entirely over. WHAT???!!??? These doctors have spent the past 7 months telling me that I have to eat something at least every 2 hours so I can stop puking so much - and that didn't really work great (I still puke alot), but at least it helped stem the tide. Now they tell me I have to go 3 hours without eating, AND I can't puke. Um, OK. So, I am sitting here trying to not get nauseous (I have gotten really good at delaying the inevitable barf, so I am hoping I can make it), but this women next to me isn't making it any easier. She is also doing the 3 hour blood test and she is having a very hard time of it. She is breathing VERY hard, sweating, grunting, dry-heaving, etc... it would probably be comical if she didn't look/sound exactly how I am feeling.

Issue #3: 100 grams of sugar in the most disgusting drink ever. I can think of many, many more pleasant ways to down 100 grams of sugar than the disgusting, concentrated syrup they give you to drink. Give me a Twinkie or some Oreos... that would at least make one part of this ordeal enjoyable.

I mean really - is this the best technology modern medicine has been able to dream up?

Ugh - Jalapeños

I was doing so well. I hadn't puked in two solid weeks, but I just managed to confirm what I learned early in my pregnancy: Jalapeños are DEFINITELY on the list of the Top 3 WORST things to puke. :(

The alien in my belly

Corbyn is in Idaho this week and the movie Alien was on TV last night... I made the mistake of watching it alone and, despite the fact that it was made in the 1970's AND I have seen it before, it totally freaked me out. I couldn't sleep last night... I was tempted to get my shotgun to protect myself from the Aliens I SWEAR were in my house last night.

When I talked to Corbyn tonight, I told him that I was freaked out from watching Alien and he was making fun of me... all I have to say is that he can't really make fun of me about being freaked out until he feels like he has an alien ready to break through his belly! (Is it just me or does a baby moving in your belly feel freakily like Alien?)

And, on a complete side note, I swear, the baby bonked her head on my rib cage today.

Pirate Corbyn...

In order for you to understand this story, I have to provide a little background:

About 4 years ago (actually, pretty close to exactly 4 years ago, because is was during the 2004 Olympics), a group of us friends went to Costa Rica and Nicaragua on a trip. While there, I was exposed to the most enormous bugs of my life. Huge. Like, one night, we chased (yes, literally CHASED) a huge bug around the room of our hostel because it was so LOUD just walking around none of us could sleep. I swear, it was the size of a small mouse. It was absolutely disgusting. And, since Corbyn spent 2 years of his life in Nicaragua on his mission, you might understand that he has come home with some...uh, bug issues. They never express themselves during the day, but at night, when he is asleep and his subconsciousness takes over, his true phobias come out. Like, if I accidentally touch him in the night, he FREAKS out. (Like, jumps out of the bed slapping himself to kill whatever bug touched him.)

Which leads me to my story and the picture: A couple nights ago, Corbyn dreamed (I didn't even touch him) that a bug was crawling on his face. So, he went to slap it away and managed to jam his thumb right in his eye. In the morning, his eye was swollen shut and emitting a steady stream of tears. And, it was difficult for him to even open his other eye. Being the helpful wife that I am, I got one of my bandanna's and tried to tie it over his one eye, but he thought it looked dumb, so he wouldn't wear it. But, he should learn to listen to me... since his vision was somewhat altered due to only being able to see out of one eye, when he went to adjust a pillow, he managed to jam his thumb BACK in his eye. So, he tied the bandanna back on... Amy always knows best. I bought him a super sweet eye patch after work that night - see picture.

Booth babes and crazy New Yorkers

So, prepare yourself for a bunch of posts to this blog... I am in New York at a conference which means my day is a cycle of 1 hour sessions followed by a 45 minute break during which I am supposed to go talk to voice recognition/speech automation vendors. But, I am not interested in being sold anything today, so I will likely just catch up on email and blog. :)

Here is what I love about these conferences: the Booth Babes and the fact that you can't find anything other than coffee to drink.

So, what are booth babes? They are the hot chicks hired to stand at a vendors booth, wear skimpy clothes and pull in poor suckers who don't realize (or rather, don't care) that these girls don't actually know anything about the product they are "representing", they are just there to start the conversation. So, the men initiate the conversation, thinking, "I don't mind being sold something, as long as it is by this hot 20 year old in a mini skirt and sports bra looking thing." And then, sadly, the booth babe engages in conversation only until the slick sales guy in alligator skin shoes has finished up with the last poor sucker and can take over the conversation. Not being a man, I don't understand if the poor suckers are clueless to this process or if they are really just that desperate to talk to a pretty girl, so they don't care. I mean honestly, what kind of business person would buy a multi-million dollar software package from a person wearing hot shorts and a tube top?) This ploy seems pretty transparent to me, but again... I am not a man, so maybe not. Any man willing to clear this up for me?

Second favorite thing about conferences: the fact that coffee is the ONLY drink available. Surely, I am not the ONLY non-coffee drinker in this industry. The only options currently are coffee, de-caf, or hot water (for tea). I have considered getting myself some hot water in a cup and just letting it sit for an extended period of time to cool off, but then I discovered my other sneaky option - they have small pitchers of 2% milk as a healthy option to cream to put in your coffee... I sure get some strange looks grabbing a coffee cup and dumping the entire contents of one of those 2% milk pitchers in... desperate times.

And, my last comment for this blog - New Yorkers are crazy. I went to the bathroom after landing in New York (compliments of pregnancy that I couldn't wait until I made it to the hotel) and there was a line. So, while standing in line, I noticed there was a crazy lady on all fours UNDER the baby changing table. And, what's more... she was apparently talking to herself. Huh? Now, the obvious thought is, "Oh, poor crazy homeless lady escaped from a mental institution." But this lady was clearly not homeless... she had the full-on fur and jewelry action going on. So, as the line moved forward, I really strained to see what the heck was going on under there. When I get close enough, I could hear she was saying stuff like, "Come on honey, just come out. You need to go to the bathroom." "You are going to need to go sooner or later and now is the time." "I'll get you a treat if you just come out and try to go." So, then I was even more confused because it was WAY too small for a child to be under there with her. So, I had to look, even though it was obvious. (I had to bend over as far as my prego body would let me.) It was a little mini hideous cat in a mini kennel. I had the hardest time not laughing out loud... I mean honestly, why the heck was THIS the opportune moment for the cat to go to the bathroom? I can only assume it is because we were in a bathroom, which I guess means she was going to put the cat on the toilet? (Uh, Meet the Parents anyone?) She was still coaxing when I came out of the stall... New Yorkers are CRAZY!!!

Poor, poor Corbyn

Corbyn had a very, very funny post on here... his first blog ever. All about how my family reunion may have been the funnest event he has ever attended in his life, how motorcycle helmets are not meant to be thrown, tossed, set in the dirt, left in the sun, etc., how pasta salad needs pepperoni, how baby's diapers should not be changed on picnic tables where people will be eating soon, and lastly, how men are the real victims of pregnancy. I saw it, and emailed him that I was offended that he felt victimized by my pregnancy - I was kidding (mostly), but apparently, he really is victimized, because it struck so much fear into him that he deleted the post. For those of you who didn't get to read it before he deleted it, you missed out. For those of you who aren't his wife (and therefore NOT the one victimizing him), it was probably extremely funny.

So, I learned something about myself. Apparently, I am a very scary pregnant woman. I've heard about those...

Squats are soooo last week

So, I tried to do squats yesterday as part of my leg workout. I don't know what happened between last week and this week, but I feel like my belly must have doubled in size or something. Last week, squats were uncomfortable, but do-able. This week, they were just plain comical. Luckily, no one was around to see. (At least, as far as I know.) Every rep, I tried widening my stance to make room for my belly, until finally, my legs were so far apart, there wasn't really any up-and-down movement when I squatted- I was just kind of standing there with a bar on my shoulders bobbing.

So, I guess my squat days are over for the next 3 months, which really bites, because it is my favorite leg exercise. Unless any of you formerly pregnant women have figured out a trick you are willing to share with me on how to compensate for the big belly - I am definitely open to suggestions.

Just a random funny story...

I was weeding my garden the other day and as I weeded around my melons, I was reminded of a very funny story. (Forgive me, Heather, I have to share.)

So, Heather (my sister) last year planted a garden. Mid-summer rolled around and she decided that although her cucumbers were somewhat small and oddly shaped, she just couldn't wait any longer - she wanted to eat one right now. So, she picked one, took it in the house, peeled it, cut it up, and ate it. Apparently, it was disgusting. So disgusting that she decided she wasn't a fan of that particular breed of cucumber and she would just leave them in the garden to rot... it would be good fertilizer.

Well, a month or two later, she wandered back out into her garden and discovered a miracle! Those disgusting, oddly shaped cucumbers and magically transformed into... melons.

No, my sister does not have blond hair. Yes, she got good grades in school. Yes, she has been in a garden before. Yes, she has seen both melons and cucumbers before. I can't really explain it... I guess she just is very driven... she wanted a cucumber, so she made one (in her head, at least).

Sorry, Heather, I didn't mean to out you, but it is just too funny not to tell.

The greatest compliment of my life...

So, here is the argument I had with Corbyn last weekend.

Corbyn is not great at giving compliments... ok, so compliments are non-existent with him. While I am pretty used to it, it has started wearing now that I am getting pregnant fat. So, I told Corbyn that I need at least one compliment a month. He was shocked and offended... in his mind, he had been giving me great compliments all along. Here is our conversation:

Amy: You need to give me at least one compliment a month. And you need to get used to it, because our little girl is going to need compliments every once in a while, too.

Corbyn: I do give compliments!!!

Amy: Really? Like when?

Corbyn: Like the other day... I told you I thought you were doing a good job not gaining weight too fast.

Um... yeah. So, somehow, Corbyn thinks, "You aren't getting fat too fast" is a compliment. I can see the positive reinforcement in it, but I just can't quite stretch it to compliment. Obviously, we have some work to do before our little girl becomes a teenager, otherwise, she is going to have major self esteem problems.

I spoke too soon...

I was all excited about going 8 days without puking. Well, I shouldn't have even commented on it, because you know how that goes. As soon as I comment, my good luck reverses. 4 nights in a row of puking again... I am back on the wagon. Ugh. 

My new favorite line...

So, this post is for all the women out there.

As I have mentioned in several previous posts, I work for a great company. The president of the company stopped by my office on Thursday to see if I would be interested in going to the Jerry Seinfeld show on Friday night. (Which, of course, I was.) So, he gave Corbyn and I tickets. There were many funny jokes, but I noticed Corbyn laughed extra hard at one of them... because I think it is probably pretty true. Jerry was talking about "tone" and the difference between a man and a woman. The basic jist - a man walks into his buddy's house and says, "I am hungry. What is there to eat?" (said with a tone). The buddy says, "Eat whatever the hell you want." If a man walks into his own house and says, "I am hungry. What is there to eat?" (said with a tone), the woman says, "Why are you yelling at me?" For some reason, we women feel personally responsible for a man's hunger and his helpless inability to provide himself with sustenance. So, when I noticed Corbyn thinking that was sooooooooo funny (and realizing it was only funny because it was true), I adopted my new favorite line. From now on, whenever Corbyn asks what is for dinner or whines because I put beans in his Pork Barbacoa Salad, or use applesauce to make the cake a little healthier, I am just going to say, "Eat whatever the hell you want." (Sorry, mom.) I used that line three times over the weekend... you would be surprised at how liberating it is. And, I believe Corbyn will think twice before laughing quite so hard at a joke again.

By the way, I typed this whole thing without my contacts in, so if there are spelling or grammar errors, I blame my blindness.

It's a.......

GIRL!!!!

Wow - ultrasounds are amazing! Here are some pics, if you are good enough to make out what they are. (And if you care.) They said everything on the baby was normal, except that she has an extra large brain. OK, not really. They just said everything was normal and I am two days ahead of where they would expect me to be for a November 19th due date. (Which is awesome... I would rather have it sooner, so I am fully recovered for Thanksgiving dinner and (more importantly), combat shopping for the Black Friday sales!!!

So, it was the double whammy for Corbyn. We went in to the ultrasound and he found out it was a girl. He did pretty good, but it was obvious he was a little disappointed. Then, we went in for my monthly check-up, and because I have negative blood, he had to get his blood drawn, so they can check his blood type. He HATES needles (whimp). So, yes, it was a very, very hard day for Corbyn. :) And I couldn't even be the supportive wife for him through this traumatic ordeal, because Heather was calling for the 10th time to find out the gender. (Just kidding, Heather.)

Then, last night, he got to see the baby move for the first time. I have tried to help him feel it, but he pushes very hard on my stomach every time (typical man... not so gentle), so he just makes me need to pee instead of feeling the baby move. So he hasn't ever felt it. But I saw her moving last night, so I made him watch and he saw something stick out of my belly for a second. I think it kind of freaked him out. He kept saying, "You just have some weird gas or something."

8 days and no puke! It's gotta be a record!!!

The title says it all... I am just so excited about it, I have to share!

Other exciting news? My ultrasound is Friday, so we get to find out what we're having!!! Stay tuned...

The count:

Days without puking: 8
Weight gained: 11 lbs.
Slurpee's consumed: 4
Weirdest craving so far: Nothing... I think it comes from being sick so much... I dislike eating these days. :(

My tribute to Kevin, my mentor & friend

Sorry - this posting isn't even going to attempt to be funny. Feel free to skip right past it, but I feel the desire to write my feelings.

I lost someone last week who was very special to me. A very different kind of loss than any I have experienced before... I have lost family members and friends before, but last week, I lost my mentor.

He was my boss in title... the Chief Marketing Officer at 1-800 CONTACTS. When I have tried to talk to others about him, they seem almost dismayed that I would feel such a sense of personal loss about someone not related. Which makes me incredibly sad... it shows me how rare a true mentor is... anyone who has had a great mentor would understand my grief.

Kevin was an amazing person. He was so full of life that you learned about life just by watching him... He was an amazing marketer and business man... sitting in a meeting or a 1 on 1 with him was like drinking from the fire hose of knowledge... whatever capacity you had to drink, he had more than enough to provide. He was such a strong advocate for him employees - even on the huge and/or new projects or roles where you weren't sure if you could do it, he always knew and somehow made you believe that you could. He was a great coach - able to provide guidance and direction in a subtle and completely inoffensive way. He was lavish with his praise... which only made you want to do better. He was a tremendous leader... anyone in the company who's seen the executive team interact knew that Kevin WAS the executive team. He was a wonderful friend. The most amazing thing about Kevin was that he was not all these things just to me, but to all who knew him. You didn't have to work directly for Kevin, or even interact with him much, to recognize what an amazing person he was and to learn from him.

My favorite memory of Kevin, possibly because it was my last real interaction with him before he died, occurred the Friday before his death. We were on a conference call with Wal-Mart. They had been stalling and delaying on a project I was leading. I had communicated this delay to Kevin and, as the great boss he always was, he fully understood his role as facilitator... to remove obstacles for his people. We got on this conference call and he started yelling, calling out people who were failing to make timely decisions, demanding action from Wal-Mart executives, etc. If I were on the other end of the phone call, I would have thought he was incredibly demanding and frankly, a little scary. But they didn't have the perspective of sitting next to him... being able to see him. The whole time, he had a huge smile on his face and was giving me two thumbs up... letting me know it was all for show. It was so Kevin.

My feelings are so complicated... I feel so much gratitude- that I was able to know him for almost 4 years and work directly for him for 2 years. I feel so much regret- that my capacity to drink wasn't greater during the time his fountain of knowledge was available. I feel so robbed - 4 years was such a short time to learn all he had to offer. I feel so hopeless - I can't imagine I will ever find a mentor like him again. I feel so much desire... to be for someone else what he was for me. I feel so much pain - I will deeply miss my friend.

Words fall short - he was an amazing man.

Who can say they've been in their bosses shoes?

Well, I can. Literally, in his shoes.

We went to Philadelphia for work to do some qualitative research and decided to go to the Franklin Institute to see the King Tut exhibit in our spare time. (It was awesome and I would love to show pictures of the King Tut exhibit, but unfortunately, they don't allow photography.)

Anyway - in other areas of the museum they have other scientific-related exhibits... one of them was a flight simulator that looked awesome and I REALLY wanted to go on it, but I was wearing sandals and they required closed toe shoes. I guess I looked sufficiently dejected, because my boss offered his shoes. It looked awesome enough that I took him up on his offer - even in my bare feet. See the picture - I am wearing my bosses shoes.

How many Amy Larson's do you know?

I met someone today who told me it would be easy to remember my name because he had a sister-in-law whose name was Amy Larson. Great.

I knew my name was going to be extremely vanilla when I married Corbyn, but today, I realized how vanilla. After this comment, I went to Google and did a search for "Amy Larson". 9,470 search results. I wasn't patient enough to look through more than 3 pages, but I wasn't any of the Amy Larson's listed on any of those pages. I did a search under "Amy Guymon" (maiden name)... 47 search results. And several of them were me. I just share my maiden name with some defendant in Montana, but my married name??? Innumerable.

Welcome to the world of ambiguity. Ah, what a nice feeling.

Now, I guess I understand when Corbyn comes up with names like "Rocket" or "Indy" for our baby. He is trying to create a little uniqueness... no one will even need to hear the last name if he calls up and says, "Hi, this is Rocket..." Yeah, you'll only know ONE of those.

I am such a bad blogger...

OK, so my New Years Resolution was to keep this blog up to date, as defined by a minimum of two postings/month. Yikes! I failed on that resolution in April... only 4 months into the year.

So, my excuse... well, you may have noticed that I didn't post any pictures of our trip. Most of you probably know why... we didn't actually go on our trip. I developed this strange disease where you puke constantly, yet still somehow develop a beer belly... it's scientific name is Pregnantitis. (OK, that was dumb.) Yes, I am pregnant. And apparently, I am a puker. This came as quite a shock and a blow to my self esteem (I have always considered myself tough... uh, apparently, not so much.)

So, for the past seven weeks, I have been dealing with morning and evening sickness. And, as disgusting as it is to puke into the nice, clean public bathrooms at my work, I can't imagine how disgusting it would be to puke into third world toilets (or outhouses, depending on the area). So, the trip to Nicaragua and Costa Rica has been postponed until further notice. (Not to mention that I couldn't get the vaccinations for hepatitis, malaria, and typhoid you need when traveling in that part of the world and eating food from street vendors.)

So, now, back to the puking. (I know, it is disgusting and you don't care, but this has been a very new experience for me, so I can't help but talk about it.) Constant vomiting. I am proud to say that it hasn't prevented me from going to work - I have yet to miss a day. (I did, however, have to go home early one day because my projectile-force vomit caused significant back-splash from the toilet... yeah, basically, I got puke on my shirt.) It's all good, though. Things are finally looking up. On Saturday, I told Corbyn I wanted to go to Carl's Jr. to get a Guacamole Bacon Six Dollar Burger (85 grams of delicious fatness in that bad boy), large fry, and a shake - I was going to eat it all and not feel bad about it, because I was just going to puke it all back up later that night, anyway. So I ate, and, for the first night in 7 weeks, didn't puke. Figures.

What else? Well, my first prenatal doctors visit sure was interesting. You would think, with 2 sisters and 4 sisters-in-law, all of whom have kids, that I would be a little more prepared for what happens at those. Well, I sure wasn't prepared, and Corbyn, having NO sisters and no exposure to the pains/embarrassment of being a woman, was even less prepared. I guarantee that doctor had never seen someone vacate a room so quickly... I could barely convince him to stay in the room long enough to hear the baby's heartbeat. We did get to hear the baby's heartbeat, though. Wow. That is all I can say.

So, the official tally:

- 13 weeks
- Gained 2 lbs.
- Puked innumerable times (I wish I would have kept a tally of the number of times I have puked, but I didn't really think of that.)
- 4 days in a row of not puking
- Only 2 slurpee's consumed so far (I am so proud.)

I am sooooo funny...

So, you probably can't see the picture well enough to tell what it is... and that is probably a good thing. But it is my only proof, so I have to show what there is of it.

I came home from work the other day and Corbyn had a horrible headache. I told him the best remedy for a headache was a bath. It took some talking, but I convinced him he needed to try it. I told him to relax and I would get it all ready for him. (What a nice wife...)

So, here is my manly husband, in the bathtub complete with candles, bubble bath, and scented salts... I hope you all laugh as hard as I do every time I think about it.

Thirty, Flirty, and Thriving

That was the banner Heather made me to console me on my 30th birthday. Corbyn and I went riding our motorcycles for the first time this year the day before my birthday. I always overestimate how good of shape I am in... I woke up on my birthday feeling every day of 30, but far from flirty and thriving.

The good news... Corbyn and I leave on our vacation of Friday. 10 days in Costa Rica and Nicaragua. I should definitely have some awesome stories and pictures when we get back... we'll see if they top the last trip down there. I think a cat falling through the roof of an airport is pretty hard to beat, but we'll see. That is the beauty of these trips... you never know what is going to happen. :)

Oh, and the other good news... we will finally be finishing our rolls of film that have our last trip to Cabo on them, so I should have TWO vacations worth of pictures to upload. I am sure you are on the edge of your seat.

I stumbled into the wrong session...

So, I am the Omniture Annual Convention right now, sitting in a session that is flying COMPLETELY over my head. Omniture is a web analytics tool... I consider myself a power user, so I attend the advanced track. (I am not arrogant, I swear. Heck, I was even invited to be on the Customer Advisory Board for them. It's like if your high school teacher recommends you to be the Sterling Scholar... such a big deal to... well, a couple people.)

The title of the session "Advanced - Using API's to get the right data in the right place". So, I am fully aware of the fact that I do not have a degree in Computer Science, but in my online marketing career, I have been around a lot of code. I can read some of it... heck, I can even write some. I was even ranked the 3rd most advanced Excel user in a previous session, since I know what ctrl/shift/enter does. (I was beat out by some Visual Basic reference. Dang VB.) I know what an API is... I am excited Omniture just announced the availability of an API... I know all the cool stuff that can be done with an API. So, all this leads me to believe that I am smart enough to attend this session.

The fact that I am typing on my blog right now should indicate to you how much I overestimated my own smartness. SOAP, XML based HTTP post, a bunch of symbols and functions I can't type fast enough to capture... I have no idea. It is all going right over my head. I should have known by the fact that I was the only woman in the room. But, it isn't too uncommon... I didn't think much of it at the time.

So, why don't I leave, you might ask? I made the critical mistake of sitting in the middle of the row. And at the front of the room. Geek on the left has his laptop open, geek at the right has his laptop open. There is no room for me to get by without causing some major commotion. And, if I were to leave, all the computer geeks in the room would look at me and think, "I knew that chick didn't belong in here." If a sit here and type, they all think, "Whoah. That chick knows code."

So, I suffer for all womankind.

SQL Server 2005

My work was upgrading to SQL Server 2005. Since I am the business owner of the website, I had to be on-site to sign off that it was working to my approval. The upgrade began at 9:00PM Saturday night and we finally left at 4:30am Sunday morning. Several pizza's and pitchers of Vanilla Coke into the night, we were all feeling a little punchy. While the DBA's (Database administrators) finished up their work, I teamed up with the Ecommerce Manager and QA Manager to write a little song about our efforts that night. Keep in mind that experts say your best work comes when you first wake up in the morning and we were coming up on our 21st hour of sleeplessness. Enjoy.

Happy February 29th!

Yeah, so, I realize this posting is a few days after February 29th, but surely you didn't expect me to take any of that precious day to type something on the computer!!!! Definitely not! I took the day off work in celebration of the momentous occasion. I am 29 and February 29th comes only once every 4 years. I really, really wanted to go buy a lottery ticket, because I am pretty sure it was the luckiest day of my whole life, but practicality (or Corbyn) took over and I realized the frivolity of driving so far just for a $1 ticket. So, I missed my chance to win the lottery. I blame practicality (or Corbyn).

Karen, Joan, and I went with our husbands to lunch... It was Corbyn's first outing with us all. Hopefully, I had sufficiently prepared him and he wasn't too shocked with how funny (aka. annoying) we are when we are together. It was a good time.

A sample of Corbyn's hot motocross action

Here is a video of one of Corbyn's Rocky Mountain Raceway (RMR) races. Enjoy. (Also, notice the fine video-grapher work.)

Just call me Mario Andretti

So, I just got the pics to prove it, so now I have to rub it in a little:

So, I work for the greatest company ever... one evidence of this is that every quarter, the Marketing Department has a team building activity. Our Q3 team building activity was Go-Cart Racing on the Larry H. Miller Speedway. These carts are AWESOME! They go 50-60 MPH and it is outdoor, so the track is large enough you can actually get a little speed. I totally recommend it.

Here is the best I can do at a play-by-play on a blog: (I know you all care...)

Picture 1: At the starting line... (notice, I did not start in first place) (Also, recognize me by my sweet green helmet.)



Picture 2: Amy takes the lead...



Picture 3: Amy starts lapping people



Picture 4: Amy crosses the finish line with no one else in sight.



Picture 5: Co-workers check out Amy's ride, thinking it must be the go-cart that caused such an explosive victory. Thus, Amy is challenged to a rematch. (Which, of course, I was fine with, since it meant I got to race again.)



Picture 6: Amy is given the "slow go-cart" for the re-match. (Actually, it was just the go-cart that had taken last place.)



Picture 7: Amy wins again.



That is right, I am the undisputed Champion of Go-Cart racing. Of course, I keep hearing excuses like, "Yeah, but it is only because she is a girl and weighs less"... blah, blah. Whatever. Men just can't take losing to a girl.

And, just in case any talent agents read this, I am open to sponsorship opportunities.

Rock of Love - 2008!!!

OK, so I probably shouldn't name this post "Rock of Love" for fear that people might think I actually watch that show. Which I don't. Except for once. OK, maybe twice. But it was totally on accident. At least, one time was totally on accident. The other time, I was just really, really bored. Really. I don't watch it. I swear.

Anyway, so the Sunday before New Years, I was talking to one of my neighbors when she came to pick up her daughter from our Sunbeam class and we decided it would be awesome if we had a Rock Star party for New Years. (OK, it wasn't totally original. Corbyn's brother Collyn had been invited to one and Corbyn thought it sounded awesome.) So, anyway, the format: dress like an 80's Rocker and play Guitar Hero all night.

So, Corbyn and I went to DI on Monday and picked ourselves out some awesome 80's Rocker clothes. I went as Madonna (well, as Madonna as you can be while still remaining fully clothed) and Corbyn went as... you guessed it, Bret Michaels (Poisen lead singer and the star of Rock of Love (hence the title of this post)). It was awesome. I will post some pics as soon as I get them from my neighbor, but Corbyn had a long, blonde wig (compliments of my niece Madelyn's Hannah Montana Halloween costume), a bandana, my straw cowboy hat, a totally 80's denim jacket, and a tight black t-shirt. AND he put on eyeliner. It was perfect. He was the hit of the party. All the other guys were pretty jealous of his sweet wig and hat... it got passed around a little. (Don't tell Madelyn.) It was pretty hilarious actually - it is surprising how men lose a lot of their inhibitions when wearing a long wig. I guess it is the closet rock star in them...

Also, for anyone who has not yet jumped on the Guitar Hero bandwagon, I highly recommend it. It was a blast.

Corbyn's huge trophy

So, I thought you guys might want to see Corbyns enormous trophy. (And how hot he looks in his suit.) :)

1-20-08 comment: OK, so someone asked me what his huge trophy was for... they thought maybe he participated in a body-building competition. (But no, the only flex dances Corbyn will do are in the privacy of our own home. Which he has actually never done, but I am still hoping.) So, to clarify, this trophy was for taking 2nd in the Rocky Mountain Raceway Motocross Series.

Washington DC and the MXdN

So, our trip to the Motocross of Nations was AWESOME. It included:

1. MXdN - So cool - US dominated every race and we were able to see Ricky Carmichael's last ride. It was PACKED. We had Europeans invading our personal space and blowing cigarette smoke EVERYWHERE. Reportedly, 70,000 people attended. It was awesome.
   
2. Spotsylvania (Bloodiest battle of the Civil War - this is the battle where the 21 inch tree was shot down by small arms fire. We saw the stump of the tree, trenches where both the Union and Confederacy were dug in, a few cannon, etc. Pretty awesome.)
3. Fredericksburg (Another Civil War battle site)
4. The house where Stonewall Jackson died. (Confederate General)
5. National Air and Space Museum - Tel, you would have been in heaven. Corbyn was. We spent about 6 hours here - I was done in about 4... I can only look at space shuttles for so long. Corbyn would have liked more time... I guess it is a guy thing. Space holds limited interest for me.
   
6. Holocaust Museum - I don't really know what to say about this... it was very moving... and interesting... and disturbing.
   
7. Museum of Natural History - unfortunately, this is NOT the one in Night at the Museum. We did get to see a lot of interesting stuff here, including the Hope Diamond. (WOW!)
8. Museum of American History - we didn't actually go here, because it is closed for renovation, but they took the 500 most popular artifacts and put them in a special display in the Air and Space Museum... it had the Sun Stone from the Navoo temple, C3PO and R2D2 from Star Wars (the originals), Jerry Seinfeld's puffy shirt, etc.
9. Arlington Cemetery - my favorite (besides the MXdN, of course) - we were able to see an actual funeral procession. They had a guard of soldiers, the horse drawn casket draped in a flag, the drummer, the bugler and they were leading a riderless horse. Wow. I almost cried. (And you know how rarely that happens...) Also, they laid a wreath on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, another very rare occurrence. We were in the right place at the right time.
10. Arlington House - I never actually knew this before visiting here, but this was the home of Robert E. Lee - Arlington Cemetery began as a slap in his face for accepting command of the Confederate Army, rather than the Union. They just starting piling the bodies of Union Soldiers on his estate.
    
11. ALL the monuments and memorials. So, this doesn't sound like much, but this is A LOT of walking. I heard about 4 miles round trip - it felt more like 10. My favorite was probably the WWII monument - it was pretty cool.
    
12. Of course we walked past the White House and Capitol.
13. Lastly, I have to mention Captain Billy's. A little restaurant right on the Potomac in Maryland. We decided we wanted to try crab - the whole thing, not just the legs. Yuck. You have to break them open and something yellow (I am not sure if it is poop or brains) splats everywhere. With this very pleasant sticky substance all over your hands, you then proceed to move all the guts out of the way to get at the teeny tiny ounce of meat in the crab shell. Once you extract it (using your poopy/brainy hands) it actually tastes pretty good, if you dare eat it. Regardless of the taste, however, I am a crab LEGS kind of girl. Ugh. The rest just isn't worth it.
    

Conquering the Mountain

So, for anyone who has been to our house, you know that we live between Utah Lake and a mountain. On the top of this mountain are a bunch of radio towers. Corbyn has been obsessed with going up the the radio towers since the day we moved in.

We tried it once - 2 wrecks and a lost contact lens later, we had to head home. Yes, both wrecks were mine. I could see Corbyn sitting at the top of this rocky hill just waiting for me (possibly laughing... with the helmet, you can't tell) It was too steep to wreck and start from where you were stopped - wrecking meant you had to ride back down and start over. It was killing me... I kept making it about 3/4 of the way only to hit an enormous rock (probably not really that huge) and fall over. I wrecked and started over twice... the second time, my contact lens came out and we had to call it a day.

We tried again - this time I succeeded. Look closely at the picture - you can see me swelling with pride. (You may be wondering if I made it up this time incident free? Don't ask... I am not even sure how many times I wrecked. The important thing is that I made it to the top.)





1-20-08 comment: So, I have had a couple people email and ask me why Corbyn and I are on the same bike in the picture. They asked if we rode up on the same bike, which actually made me laugh so hard, I almost cried. (I can't imagine trying to ride up that with two people on one bike.) No, in reality, it is because I was too chicken to get my bike so close to the edge. After picking my bike up innumerable times on the way up, I didn't trust my strength in getting the bike stopped in time. I probably would have gone over the edge.

Mesa Verde - Labor Day

So, I am going to be doing a little catching up the next couple weeks, so I can share my photos with ya'll.

As some of you know, I convinced Corbyn to go with me to Mesa Verde over the Labor Day holiday. A couple of lessons learned:

1. Monticello/Blanding is a long and boring freaking drive. Tom/Nancy - I don't know how you do it.

2. Bring your own firewood to National Parks. We planned to "rough it"... we brought a tarp and our sleeping bags, along with a cooler full of breakfast food to cook on the campfire, thinking we would gather our own wood. Not allowed. (Probably so they can make a steal getting niave campers like us to pay $7/bundle.

3. Deer in National Parks are not afraid of humans. Yes, one almost ran us over in our sleeping bags. I missed it... I was asleep, but when I woke up, Corbyn and Zach were both kind of freaking out. NOTE: this is not the first time Corbyn has been awakened by the wildlife while camping. About 4 years ago, we were camping near Bear Lake and I woke up to see Corbyn standing in the middle of our camp in nothing but his undies. He thought he heard a bear.

4. The old indians were obsessed with bathtubs. Ok, yeah, so "archeologists" call them Kivas and say they were ceremonial, but to me... they are just bathtubs. Everywhere. Half the space in the house was occupied by the bathtub.