First Mothers Day

With my sweet little Kenna, I have officially joined the rank of mama, at last earning sacrament-meeting Mothers Day carnations and/or chocolate. A lot of work for a small token if you asked me. :) We donned our new dresses today for the occasion, K and me.

She is opinionated and cheeky, brave and silly, stubborn and vivacious as all get out. I like to think that she was meant for me.

In just eight months she has taught me things I never knew about myself, about life, about womanhood, and about my Father and Mother in Heaven. And of course, about my own mother, who I could not love and admire more than I do now.

It has been a humbling new world.

Striking Charts, Spence

Spencer now works for what I like to call the Goldman Sachs newspaper. He and a team of economists have to publish research every week.

His colleague was thrilled with the "beautiful charts" he made to show her research. And then the Financial Times did a piece on the research and called Spence's charts "striking." Which explains why we have hanging on our fridge the graphic depiction of the increase in the number of macro-prudential policies used by OECD countries. Naturally.

Lady of Leisure

"How does it feel to be a lady of leisure?" Grandma Tana asks. I'm just two days into my six-month leave, but so far, it feels great.

I've been kicking it with this little tulip.

More shots taken by the lovely Audrey Leifson at the Tulip Festival:

Introducing Kenna

We were delighted to have the fantastic Brad Slade (photographer for BYU Magazine) photograph 3-week-old Kenna. Obviously this is his best work yet (we may be a little biased).

Spencer Vs. CFA

He won. He is now a certified, level-one financial analyst. Too bad there are three levels. Let round two begin.

Hormonal and Pregnant Meltdown #11

I'll spare you 1 through 10, but I will post on the latest of what I like to call "emotional pregnancy moments."

We sold our motorcycle. And along with it, our youth.

The electric-blue Honda Shadow that was our same vintage, 1984. We've known/seen three people die this past year on motorbikes—one of them a friend's husband, leaving her with two kids. We'd sell ours when we got pregnant, we said, like rational human beings. And then wham—it became symbolic. The first of many things we did when we were fun, before children.

It was a sad day. Ashamed to say it was lip-quiver crying.

Wherein We Take Every Next Adult Step Possible in Span of Six Months

So, in the dirth of posting in the last several months, we've managed to:

Buy a car. And of course, we went for the one that has the most important spec: maximum potential for ridicule from Jace. Every time he sees it, he sings out the South Park refrain: "I'm gaaaaaaay." But so far we are loving our little Prius—especially Spencer. He loves all that data. Data, data, data. And I love that I just drove to Sacramento and back for well under $100  in gas. We've already put almost 20,000 miles on, and Spence already incurred damage to the body, which officially breaks in a new car; he hit "some kind of low-flying, turkey-sized bird" on I-15, putting a crack in the front bumper. Watch out for those turkeys.

Buy a house. And not one from this century! Or from last century! No, our little home was built in 1899! A pioneer gem in none other than American Fork. We love it—except for the lack of a garage. Apparently cars hadn't been invented when our house was constructed. The entire inside was completely redone a few years ago. What can I say, we are suckers for old houses. AND Walter Payton lives next door.


Get pregnant. And it's a girl! Due in September. . . . Frankly, this may very well ruin our fall Hawaii plans—but here we are, and we are excited. I should clarify: Spencer is ecstatic. I mostly feel ill-prepared, exhausted, and pukey. And tired of sticking myself with needles. I have to take two shots a day, book ending my evening slumber—what has become the best part of every day—with injections of blood thinners. Because of the blood thinners, an epidural may not be an option—possible risk of paralysis and all. Sunday is the halfway mark. Only 20 more weeks, then the real fun begins, right? We're having a grandparent showdown on what her name should be: Tana says Kenna, after her mom; Grandpa Jack says Goldie, after his mom. Will it be Kenna, Goldie, or other? Stay tuned . . .