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.