Friday, June 26, 2009
by Hyrum and Kiera
So, today I realized that I need a new swimsuit top. I really need a new swimsuit in general, but mostly, I need a little something to strap them baby-feeders in there nice and tight. I know what you're thinking, "Oh, dagnubbit, here she goes again talking about stuff I really don't want to know about."
Sorry, chaps.
I could use duct tape (or any type of tape for that matter) to mash them up there real good. But then I'd go to all the trouble of doing it and wrapping tape around my torso, just to remove it when I'd have to feed Lily. And it always leaves those weird tape residue after and I don't feel like scratching them off of my stretch marks.
Anyway, the cute (usedtobesexy) swimsuit top I have is no longer going to work on my nowamomma frame. It's fine in all areas except for the chest where depending if I've fed the little Lil yet, it's either quite the buxom view, or Sag City.
So, I need to get a more modest, probably more ancient style swimsuit. Maybe I could get those old-school suits that go up to my neck. And I could get it in a shade darker so I'd look hot and tan and sexayyyy. Well, I don't know if I'd go that far, maybe just something a little less Baywatch, more Golden Girls.
Well, I hope you are all enjoying your summers without having to wear a shirt to cover your goods so you don't get charged with indecent exposure at the local pool. Although I love the crime life, it's tough trying to blame chest problems on a 5-month-old.
P.S. I know the picture above has no correlation to the topic, but I didn't think you wanted me to put a picture of my chest on there. Thank me now.
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Friday, June 19, 2009
by Hyrum and Kiera
So, a couple of weeks ago, I was in contact with a delightful woman, Peg Davis, who was in charge of Girls' Camp this year. I was a little bummed (okay, more like a LOT) that I wasn't going to be able to go to camp this year because of a little something we call a baby. While being mother to that baby is supa cool, it was the only reason holding me back. It's like they have a sign there: NO BABIES ALLOWED BECAUSE THEY'RE CUTE AND STEAL ALL OF THE ATTENTION AND NOTHING GETS ACCOMPLISHED.
Anyway, Peg asked me to sing a song one of the nights about temples. I asked her how she planned to make a temple and she chit-chatted about something and how she was so busy and well, I, because my mouth talks nonsense without consulting my brain first, volunteered to make a temple for her. She wasn't sure if she was going to need it or not, but she called the next day asking if she could take me up on that offer. She needed it in a week. Again, my brain was screaming, "NO! NO!" but my mouth said, "Sure! Of course, I have all the time in the world."
I really need to beat that mouth into submission.
Anyway, I've done some projects in the past with wood (1x2s), chicken wire, and tissue paper. We built the frame of whatever we wanted to make, stapled chicken wire around the frame, and cut about a gazillion squares of tissue paper to stuff into the little chicken wire holes. It turns out pretty cool and it's a neat and cheap project (you just can't seem to get rid of chicken wire - it's like it multiplies after you cut it). Hyrum and I built an American flag last year that turned out great (which I didn't photograph because I'm not that smart sometimes).
Anyway, I had some help with the wood frame (thanks, Logan's!), which we made about 8 feet tall and five feet wide. Stapling the chicken wire on was the devil's chore. For some reason, my staple gun had a vengeance against me that very day. I have many scratches amongst my body from the chicken wire, too. Instead of using tissue paper, my friend Jill and I cut trash bags. Trash bags are more flexible and will fit into the holes a little better. Also, I was planning on shining a light behind it because it would be presented at night.
Anyway, enough with the boring stuff. Here are the pictures:
Can't figure out why I look like such an idiot.
I made the Moroni on top out of paper mache.
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Thursday, June 11, 2009
by Hyrum and Kiera
Isn't it interesting (to me at least) that the word "hurly-burly" means commotion? A whirlwind of chaos? I guess that's where my disastrous stress problems stem from, those Hurley genetics. Dang you, genomes.
To make this a little less cryptic, just in case you didn't figure it out already, I'm a teeny bit stressed out. I've always had that problem - stress. The bane of my existence, really. If I could yank that part of me away from whatever it decided to latch itself onto and throw it out a window (a window, a second story window...), I think I'd be a lot more laid back.
But the problem is, it only creeps around every once in a while. Seriously, one day, I'll be peachy keen, thinking only about what marital problems Brangelina are having this week, and then all of a sudden, like the twister that Dorothy surfed to Oz, it hits. Why haven't I finished school? Where's Hyrum going to work after the Army? Where are we going to live? Can we both work and go to school without having to put Lily in daycare? Why have I been craving cake? Will my house sell? Why won't Lily nap today? How many fingers am I holding up? Why do I take on huge responsibilities that have to be accomplished in such a short time frame?
Whether trivial or important, my mind races. And races. And races. Mario Andretti style. In the fast lane. And it's usually when I'm right about to go to sleep. So, I try and count sheep. Or listen to my breathing. Or think about meaningless, meandering thoughts. And all I end up doing is lay there pacing in my head, get up to get a glass of milk, go back to bed to try and sleep, and as I am about to doze off, Lily wakes up. Never fails. But I miss her when she's sleeping, so half the time, I don't mind.
I'm not meaning to complain. I've been trying to turn my thoughts more to Christ so that I will be serving others. I have to tell myself that God's will is my will. I'm a "it's supposed to happen" type person, so I believe that all will be well, whatever it is that we are supposed to do. But in the meantime, I'd like to sleep a little more.
Oh, heavy narcotics, come find me.
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Tuesday, June 9, 2009
by Hyrum and Kiera
So.
I'm having a bit of a hard time deciding where to begin. I think I'll start with my juvenile naivety. A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far away, I had believed that when I had Lily and I stopped working, I'd have time to do all sorts of delightful things, plan grand adventures, climb mountains, ford streams, blah blah blah.
My bad.
I had four loads of laundry sitting in my living room for three weeks. I finally folded them two days ago. I took them in my room yesterday. And that is where they sit. I find it a lot easier to keep my clothes in the folded in the hamper these days. Easier access, I think.
I can't believe it, really. I mean, I'm a pretty competent person. What the deuce? Why haven't I started my own business yet? Why am I still sitting in a messy office with things to take up to the attic (suitcases still there from my Indiana trip - two months ago)? Why do I feel so busy during the day and when the end of the day comes, I realize that I didn't really do anything? Why am I still sitting in my work-out clothes and un-showered (and I can smell the diaper that Lily has)?
You know, I'm okay with it. I love playing with my Lily, so I kind of make excuses for the shape my house in. I just don't let people leave the foyer. Haha, no but seriously.
Moving on to more important business, my sweet thang of a daughter is four months old. She's rockin' adorable. Big ol' cheeks, looks like she has jowls. She's got these creases in her hamhock thighs. Man, I wish that was cute on me. But no, people call that a free ticket to "The Biggest Loser". Dang. She's still got her Lilyhawk going on and the longer her hair gets, the bigger the fauxhawk gets. She's right about 18 1/2 lbs. A Nephi baby - large in stature. And by golly, for some reason, she has got some large-o ears. They're only about a centimeter smaller than mine. I was calling them Dumbo ears for a while, but I'm afraid I've already given her a complex. And lastly, she's got lungs that could outsing the Metropolitan Opera. Why did I have to get a baby JUST LIKE ME?
A couple of tidbits of goodness:
She has her first two teeth. I don't have a picture of her actual teeth because she won't let me get a picture, but I do have one of us wrestling for it.
She went swimming yesterday! She LOVED it. And when I say she loved it, I mean she was in the water for forty-five minutes and she didn't cry. She just kind of looked confused.
She eats rice cereal now, as you can probably tell from this picture. Lately, more of it has been ending up on her clothes than in her mouth. She takes to it okay. Sometimes, she's a champ and sometimes I think she sneezes it out on purpose.
She LOVES her Baby Einstein movie. She kept laughing (or smiling and saying, "huhhhhhh huhhhhh") when the Kangaroo came out. Genius kid. She gets jealous when I'm on the phone. Then I give her the phone and she eats it.
Hyrum and I are celebrating our three-year anniversary today! Three years of awesome weddedness. He's still in Iraq, but we're on the downhill slide. Just 5 1/2 months left, Hallelujah. I'm tired of this him-being-gone business. He's got a little girl to love, hold, kiss, snuggle, and discipline because, well, I'm just not fit for that stuff when you've got a baby who gives me kisses and loves. I'm a sucker for slobbery, open-faced kisses. Well, I hope that's a good update for you. I have too many goals that aren't getting accomplished so unfortunately, I can't put writing posts for my blog as one of them. But if you are lucky, I will venture back this way sometime soon.
Love, Kiera and assjhd/ (Lily)
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Saturday, February 28, 2009
by Hyrum and Kiera
I've had a lot of requests to write something on my blog.
There. I wrote something.
Hahaha, what if I just left it like that? I actually might have to, depending on if my little Lily decides to exercise her lungs again. It's becoming a ritual of sorts.
Well, this post might have to come in segments. I'm not sure if I'll have the time to write it all out at the moment. I have a very demanding client occupying a lot of my personal time. It's okay, she's worth it.
Let's see, we'll start with the obvious. I had a baby. She is perfect. She is beautiful. And she is loud. Chip off the ol' block, if I do say so myself.
Our little Lily Brynne Durfee was born on February 6, 2009 at 5:31p with her daddy, mommy (obviously), and Nana present. Okay, time out. She's wailing on me. Alrighty, where were we? Oh yes. LABOR. Hyrum was able to come home for his two-week rest and recuperation leave on February 5th. I was four days late and my water broke 12 hours after Hyrum came home, at about 1:00a in the morning. Now, THAT is an experience. Waking up thinking that you wet yourself is a little confusing. Really. I didn't know what to do. Call the hospital? Wake up Hyrum? Wake up my mom? Go back to sleep and let the baby come at home? I'd like to point out that Womack (my hospital) are pretty much Nazi's about everything and only will admit you if you're at least 4-5 cm dilated. Well, since I hadn't had any contractions at all (yeah, it was nice), I figured I hadn't dilated, so I didn't want to go to the hospital because I didn't want them to send me home. I'm lazy. Well, I woke up Hyrum and my mom and called the hospital just to cover all bases. We went to the hospital at about 3:00a and I was admitted at 4:30a, after they confirmed that my water had indeed broken and I was 4 cm dilated. Yeah, baby, did THAT by myself with NO contractions. Booyah. Since I hadn't had any contractions, they decided that Petocin was the best way to go. Okay, so they came. And you're all right, there really is no way to describe contractions besides the fact that they hurt and you'll know when you're having one. So, the contractions start regulating themselves and they're not that bad. They were actually pretty manageable. At the time. The nurse kept asking me how much pain I was in and I was all, "Um, like a 4." I was thinking, "This is awesome! Maybe I won't need an epidural! Maybe I'll have a pain-free labor. I'll be the ONE exception to the rule! Labor's not really labor at all!"
Yeah freaking right.
About 7 hours after they administered the Petocin, the whambamthankyouma'am contractions started. Seriously. I told Hyrum I was NEVER having any more kids, I told my mom to shut up, and I told the nurse four times to get that darn needle in my back. When she asked me how much pain I was in on a scale of 1 to 10, I glared at her and said 15. The problem was, my contraction monitor wasn't working, so she couldn't tell how far apart they were, even though I was counting and they were every 1-2 minutes. No, no one believes the chick in pain. At the nine hour mark, I peaked the emotional mess meter. I was in so much pain, I hadn't dilated any more, they were about to administer the epidural, the epidural hurt, Hyrum and my mom couldn't be in there, I was a mess. I mean snot-nosed, blubbering mess.
Then the warmth and numbness came. It was like a playground with unicorns and candy. It took about 30 minutes to fully feel the effects and then that's when the dancing fairies came in. I felt goooooood. It was like vengeance on the contraction monitor. It would show these really high numbers that indicate a lot of pain and I'd just shoot it a dirty look, like, "Who can feel it now, BOOYAH." For four hours, I tried to sleep, but unfortunately, the epidural didn't take in my left leg. So, as my babe started coming, the contractions got lower into my bum. Now, that is uncomfortable. You feel like you're going to poop on the table. That's fun. So, I made a little comment about how I could feel my entire left leg and I didn't want to feel my left leg at all and the anesthesiologist came back in and administered local anesthetic into my epidural tube. Hahahahahaha. I couldn't feel ANYTHING. No. I'm serious. Not even pressure. At that point, I was 8 cm dilated and for 45 minutes I had the most glorious sleep in the world. The nurse woke me up to check how far I had dilated and I was just complete dead weight. She didn't even have to check me. This is kind of gross, but it's my blog, so get over it. She looked at me and said, "Uh, Kiera, your baby is coming." I was like, "Whaaa?" She asked me if I felt any urge to push and I looked at her and kind of slurred, "Nooo,Idon'tfeelanything." She was all, "This baby is about to be born, you best get ready." So, I looked at Hyrum, who was sleeping, and I was all, "Hey, Hyrum. I'm going to have a baby." You should've seen the way he bolted out of that chair.
So, the nurse brought the midwife in and she told me how to push and I was thinking in my head, "I can't feel anything from the chest down, how am I supposed to push?" So I held my breath for ten seconds when she told me to push. She told me I was doing a good job, so I kept holding my breath. All of a sudden, the nurse walks away and she's fiddling with stuff, telling me how much hair my baby has. I'm like, "Uh, how do you know that?" Yeah, you don't want to know. So, anyway, I keep holding my breath when she tells me to push. Hey, don't judge me, it worked.
Four pushes later, our beautiful blue baby was born. I saw her as they lifted her up, my stomach deflated and I cried. Sobbed. Bawled. All the other synonyms in the book. I wept. Hyrum held me and I cried. He cut the umbilical cord (I know!! He wasn't going to!) and they asked me if I wanted to hold her or if I wanted her cleaned off first. Well, I have issues and I said I wanted her cleaned. I immediately regretted it. I didn't see her for 45 minutes. Hyrum and my mom got to see her and hold her and take pictures and I didn't even know what she looked like!!! It sucked! So, after they measured her and weighed her (8 lbs., 15 oz. and 21 inches long), Hyrum brought her over to me and I sobbed. I looked at her and cried. I couldn't help it. She was too beautiful.
So, to finish the post, she is three weeks old now and needs to stop growing! She's getting so big! I mean, she weighs a ton. A couple things that I'll have to update about later:
- Breastfeeding sucks at first. And it hurts. IT GETS BETTER. Plan on feeling like a cow for a while.
- When she smiles, it takes away all frustration, fatigue, sadness.
- She laughed last night for the first time.
- We've already had our first Mommy/daughter fight.
- She hears Hyrum's voice and calms down.
- I love her stinking guts.
- Really, sleep when she sleeps. Do it.
Well, I have to go to bed. Hope that was a good start for you!
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Sunday, February 1, 2009
by Hyrum and Kiera
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Saturday, January 31, 2009
by Hyrum and Kiera
It's Saturday night and I'm sitting in my bedroom quietly typing a post on the computer. It's late, I have church tomorrow, I should really be going to bed.
But I can't help but rub my little belly (it's little, dangit) and feel Lily moving and kicking and getting ready to be born into this world.
What type of mother will I be? Hopefully a good one. Thinking about the world she's coming from and the world she's being born into scares me. But even then, our beloved late President Hinckley said that the church is in the best shape it's ever been in.
How will I react to all the new things that are thrown my way? Will I becoming nurturing, kind, and compassionate? Or will it take me longer to respond to natural motherly instinct?
Everything is ready for her. Her room, her clothes, her toys, even her bassinet is set up in my room, just waiting for her to come home from the hospital. But how prepared can I really be? To be responsible for a child of God, to have stewardship over a daughter of our Heavenly Father.
I'm packed, her car seat is in the car, everything is ready to go once my body tells me that it's time. After my visiting family has packed their bags and traveled home, after Hyrum has returned to Iraq, how will I know what to do?
For me, there's so much to remember. I don't want to be so busy that I forget her first smile, her first laugh, her first everything. Except her first diaper. Not it.
I was so scared when I found out I was pregnant. I couldn't believe that I was going to be entrusted with raising a child in righteousness. Now, I'm so excited to meet her. To see her. To be a part of her life and to love her. She means the world to me and she's not even born yet.
How will she know how much I love her? I don't think she could ever know. I want to protect her, raise her in truth, never let her date, and hope that she understands her role in this world.
How can someone so tiny and so new to this world bring so much happiness to a family? Just a regular girl and guy who are blessed to be having a baby.
I'm taking on a role that I've never taken on before and that is the role of a mother.
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So, today I realized that I need a new swimsuit top. I really need a new swimsuit in general, but mostly, I need a little something to strap them baby-feeders in there nice and tight. I know what you're thinking, "Oh, dagnubbit, here she goes again talking about stuff I really don't want to know about." 
