Nymphadora Tonks: A Labor and Delivery Story

Nymphadora Tonks joined our family August 11, 2015 at 6:13pm weighing more than I could manage by myself. 

The day started out like any other day in the Summer of Shay: running, LIVE with Kelly and Michael, grocery shopping, and of course, Swig. I had just been in the middle of reading Harry Potter when I got a text that would forever change my life:

"Ok, you can come get it around 3:30."

She was here! I would finally get to meet this new addition to our family in only a couple of hours!

...or so I thought.

Going into it, I had a plan. I was going to use Tom G's truck to go pick it up and have Tom G just drive my car back up to the house after work. But for some reason, I thought getting Tom G's truck was a two person job, so I called my dad to help me (the anticipation for this new little one clouded my judgment, obviously). After looking for the keys to the truck for a good 20 min, I finally found them in the ashtray! One step closer to Tonks! Until I got this text:

"We should probably make it 4 to be safe."

Ugh. I had waited all afternoon, I guess I could wait another 30 minutes. So waited I did...at my dads work... following him around like a puppy ha. It was 3:45 when I got the next text:

"Hey so the bicycle is in my wife's car and she took it to work today because that's where the other person who was originally going to buy it was going to meet her. She still is not on her way home yet, so it might be later that we have to meet."

WHAT?! I had been waiting all day! Now I have to drive all the way home in Tom G's truck only to bring it back to Provo a couple of hours later? That's when all the doubts started to fill my mind. What if she's not cute in real life like she is in the KSL pictures? What if something is wrong with her? How am I going to be able to handle a new bike? Is there room for her in our home? 

After waiting for what felt like days I finally got the OK to come and get her! It was finally happening! The delivery itself probably took a whopping 2 minutes, which involved some awkward small talk with a girl named Jessica about how she's moving to California and then ended with me saying, "Thanks! See ya later!...wait... no I won't," and then asking her to help me load it into the truck because I lack upper body strength.

While the labor was long and painful, the quick and awkward delivery made up for it. I'm so excited for this new addition into the family. I love you, Nymphadora Tonks!

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Long story short: This was the best $30 KSL find in history! (thanks to Chris)




p.s. What do we think of the name? Obviously I want something Harry Potter related, and Tonks came to mind because of the pink! But I also thought I could name her Frenchy or Rizzo because after all, she IS a pink lady! Feel free to leave name suggestions in the comment section below.

THE FEELS

As most of you know, I am an emotional person. Like, reeeeeeeaally emotional. Emotional is probably an understatement. I just feel too much! And on Monday, I definitely had feels, but not the good kind that I'm used to (like watching Ellen's 12 days of giveaways! Note: do NOT apply mascara before watching!). Instead, I had feels that made me (and maybe Chris) realize that I am truly insane. Like, on a scale from 1-Britney Spears circa 2007, I was definitely an 8. I'll paint you a mental picture...

Me in an ugly Christmas sweater, holding a pan of peanut butter fingers in the car, sobbing (way past Kim Kardashian crying ugly) + hyperventilating. Complete with mascara streaks that went all the way down my neck, and red lipstick smudged around my lips and on my teeth. If you are having a hard time picturing what that looks like, a close comparison would be The Joker, you know, who is insane.

Now that you have that lovely + flattering image of me in your mind... I'll tell you how I got to that point.

All day Monday I had been teary-eyed. I knew I was stressed about finals, but that's never made me hit the point of sobbing in an ugly Christmas sweater. All day I had just been sad and felt like I was failing at everything--school, work, church, being a good wife, etc. and when me and Chris were rushing on our way to a party, I just couldn't hold it in anymore--the feels had taken over! Next thing I know, I'm sobbing hysterically in the car trying to explain to Chris what's bothering me.
I'm going to fail my biomechanics final!
I haven't slept in three days!
I'm not going to be able to work next semester.
I barely have enough money in my account to pay for tuition.
I haven't even started Christmas shopping for anyone.
What if I don't get to student teach next semester?!
I can't even remember the last time I cooked a homemade meal!
We haven't gotten to spend anytime together!
The house is always a mess and the laundry is never folded!
There's children starving in Africa! (...I didn't actually say that, but you get the point, right?!)

....It was NOT pretty. I don't think I've ever cried so hard in my life. It was like every sad or negative thought I have been feeling this month just boiled over the surface! Luckily for me, Chris was really patient and turned the car around and took me home. His orders were to put my phone down, get in a hot bath, just relax and breathe. So, if picturing me in a Christmas sweater sobbing with mascara down my neck wasn't enough, you can always picture me naked in the tub with all my smeared make up still on and crying hysterically. I'm sure I looked like I was straight out of a horror film.

But! Don't worry! Because now that I've gotten a little more sleep and finished all my finals, I am A-OK! And starting to find myself laughing at how insane I acted/looked in front of Chris on Monday. At least we know now how to handle an almost-Britney Spears kind of melt down?  HOT BATHS + Grey's Anatomy. Oh, and lots of cuddling.

Also, because I've been too busy having mental breakdowns, here's some "good feels" I've had this month. Scroll, scroll, scroll!

Thanksgiving Point lights with the Gourley Gang! + Sharing my chocolate shake with Bryce.

Hanging out with Evie, while Chris was in California.

Watching Koree and Griffin in the nativity at their ward Christmas party.

FHE at grandma and grandpa Walker's!

My wreath that my cutest aunt Joelle helped me make! (okay, mostly made...) Thanks, Joelle!!!

I'm so grateful to be done with finals and feel like all is right in the world again. Now I just have to worry about Christmas shopping...

Good luck to the rest of you crammin' for the last of those finals! 

Still got it.

In pseudo defense of this car selfie: I got hit on today. Well, almost hit on. But almost getting hit on means you've obviously still got 'it' going on, and people that have 'it' going on take car selfies...right?!   

You may be asking yourself, "How does one almost get hit on?" Well, let me tell you!

After an extremely long, boring hour and a half of class, I started walking to my car. As I was walking, I saw this guy in a two-sizes-too-small maroon shirt pop up from the staircase, and two seconds later, he was walking right towards me. Here's how the conversation went:

Too-tight-of-shirt boy: "Hey.... do you know where the Talmage building is by chance?"
Me: "Umm... the Talmage? I don't kn-"
Too-tight-of-shirt boy: *interrupts me mid-sentence* "Oh never mind you're married. I was just trying to hit on you" and walks away.

Ummm....Did that really just happen? 

I couldn't help but feel torn on the situation. On one hand, I was flattered. You know the How I Met Your Mother episode where Robin wears her engagement ring and she basically becomes invisible? Sometimes I feel like that--nobody looks/talks to you when you are married, so it was nice to know that I've "still got it" while wearing leggings and sportin' 4th day curls, I guess. But on the other hand, I couldn't help but be a little offended. Why didn't tight shirt boy just play it cool and keep pretending like he was looking for the Talmage building instead of rudely interrupting me and treating me with no kind of respect once he found out I was married? Even just a little apology would have been nice...

Of course, the rest of the walk back to my car was fueled with questions racing through my mind. Should I be flattered or offended? I guess that means I still kind of got it going on? Too-tight-of-shirt boy, does that really ever work for you? No wonder you are still single. What were you going to do if I was single and told you where the Talmage building was at? How did you even have time to consider hitting on me? You literally saw me for two seconds! Not shallow at all, bro. Also, a word of advice: Don't try to hit on a girl after you just climbed 3 flights of stairs--you sound all breath-y, like breathier than Elena Gilbert speaking to a Salvatore.

And perhaps the most piercing question.... Where is the Talmage building?!

So to all my single lady friends, here's a little bit of unsolicited advice (forgive us married people! we just can't help but give relationship advice, just like we can't help but be in bed by 9 o' clock--it's a disease!): Don't settle for boys who wear maroon shirts that are two sizes too small for them, okay? Just don't.

The One Where They're Up All Night

My fellow Friends watchers, is it or is it not true that you can relate almost anything in your life to an episode of Friends? If you answered anything besides true, it's more than likely that you haven't watched Friends enough (and that you didn't cry when Rachel "got off the plane"), but anyway, you know the episode where Phoebe's fire alarm goes off and there's absolutely nothing she can do to get it to stop beeping? That was exactly what happened to me and Chris last night.

                                

Chris woke up to a loud, chirping noise only to discover that it was our fire alarms going off. I was asleep until I heard him moving our TV stand so he could stand on it to disable the alarm. The only problem was that even after he took it off, it still kept making that loud chirping noise. Luckily, Chris kept his cool and didn't start smashing it with his shoe, unlike Phoebe. Then all of our other alarms started going off! I could hear Chris mumbling under his breath, and moving objects out in our hall, but I didn't question his methods because at that point, it was 5:53 in the morning, and I had planned to wake up at 6:23 (I woke up at  7:18 and forgot to brush my teeth...oops).

I'm still not exactly sure what Chris did to make the alarms stop. Maybe he wrapped it up in Monica Gellar's blanket and tried to throw it down in the trash shoot and then had a fireman return it to him? I don't know. But whatever he did, it involved our office chair in the middle of our hall, and our ottoman at the bottom of the stairs, blocking our coat closet.

Thanks, Chris.

Friendship and Fitness: Bridal Veil Falls

It's Saturday. I'm blogging. I feel like I only blog on the weekends. I can assure you though, it's not because I'm incredibly busy on weekdays. Unless you consider sitting at work and looking at pinterest all day busy?  No. Maybe I only blog on the weekends because I love putting off cleaning my house, or laying in my bed bra-less while I type stories that involve me being productive and posting pictures where I look semi-socially acceptable? That's not a maybe, that's a definitely. Anyway, enough of my excuses for not blogging very much. Onwards to my adventure with Whit today!

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Me and Whit have been going on bike rides once a year since high school. Once a year mainly because that's about how long it takes for my crotch to recover from biking. Woof. After today, I'm almost thinking it's worth investing in some padded shorts. Anyway, me and Whit decided to ride to Bridal Veil Falls. I honestly don't think I can get sick of that trail. It's so beautiful. 

On the way up to Bridal Veil everything was going fairly smoothly. We were going at a decent pace and only got passed by one group of bikers. You know, those groups of bikers that all wear the same outfit and take up the whole road when you're driving up the canyon and you kind of hate them for a minute? Yeah, we only got passed by one of those groups, which made me feel better about myself and my biking skills. 

As for on the way down the canyon.... not so smooth. First, let me just tell you that I already really struggle on bikes(hence, the reason I'm a runner). Apparently, I had forgotten that and developed new confidence in my biking abilities because I became so confident that I took one hand off my handlebars and was able to fish around in my sports bra for my phone that was sliding everywhere while zooming down the canyon. Side note: it's a sad realization when you have enough room in your sports bra for your phone to wander around and get lost. As soon as I had retrieved my phone and looked up, Whit had pulled off to the side of the trail to get a drink, so I immediately slammed on  my breaks. More specifically, my front breaks. Oops. The next thing I know, I'm flipping over the front tire and yelling out curse words while the world around me is spinning in slow motion. It's too bad that Whit wasn't looking when I crashed, because I'm sure she would have had a good laugh. Luckily, it was only my shin that really got scraped up. Seriously though, I'm lucky.

Once I washed up my cut a bit, we started biking back home again. Except my bike started sounding weird and I was still a little shaken up after experiencing what the guys in Jack Ass and Nitro Circus do. So I made Whit pull over and look at my bike, which was actually Whit's bike, that's named La Tigra--awesome right? So Whit, being the best friend that she is, got down and started working on that bike like my own personal grease monkey. I just let her do her thing while I was the designated bike holder. After a few twists and turns, Whit had fixed the chain and had La Tigra  up and goin' again and we were able to make it home without anymore spontaneous pit stops ;)

Besides the whole crashing thing, I loved our bike ride. It was so fun just getting to be outdoors and catchin' up with my best friend. The only bad part about it was that it made me that much more sad to see Whit leave for Jerusalem in a couple of weeks. Who else am I going to complain to about my sore crotch muscles and talk Gossip Girl with while stuffing my face with chili cheese fries?! Oh, Whit. You will be missed.

Friendship and Fitness: to be continued...

suffering from INSANITY

It all started last Saturday night when Chris decided to start the exercise program, Insanity, because he "felt fat" (a common feeling in the Gourley home..."marriage fifteen" is real). So he popped the DVD in and started with what's called the "fit test." What was I doing? Sitting on the couch, still trying to digest my Costa Vida from earlier.

As I watched Chris do the fit test, which entailed exercises with names like power jumps, suicide jumps, and push-up jacks, I couldn't help but critique his form a little bit--something I would soon regret. Did I mention that I made fun of him for being tired after just the warm-up? I was also kind enough to mention a couple or five times how uncoordinated he looked. Don't worry, I get what's comin' to me soon.

Since Chris was tired of getting coached by me, he made me swear that I would do the fit test the next day, and that he would get to watch me. I thought, Sure! I run and do zumba, this will probably be a piece of cake for me! I can't wait to show you that I'm in better shape than you. Then the next day came around, and I made some lame excuse as to why I wasn't going to do it. Babe, we don't exercise on Sunday! It's almost 10:00, way past our bedtime, and I ate a lot at my parents.

Since I wussed out on Sunday, I decided I would get up in the morning and do it. That way, Chris probably wouldn't watch me either. So I woke up at 6:03 in the morning, got my workout clothes on, and walked downstairs with confidence that I was going to do better on the fit test than Chris. 

I turned the DVD on feeling pumped. Switch kicks? I ain't scurred! Power jacks? Come at me, bro! But after a couple of minutes into the warm-up I start to convince myself that this is not the same exercise tape Chris did. It couldn't be. I don't remember this long of a warm up. Then the switch kicks came... okay, these are kind of hard...then power jumps.... ouch...suicide jumps...Please forgive me Chris...Low plank obliques... this is the longest minute of my life! Screw good form! 

GOOD. HELL.

I would have ran another marathon before ever doing that again. I've never done a harder workout in my life. Like, about to puke hard. I was dripping with sweat, so I walked upstairs to get ready to shower. As soon as I took my clothes off, I became so dizzy and lightheaded that I decided to just lay down on my towel outside my bedroom (there was no way I was gonna let Chris see me in this condition). So there I was, laying outside my bedroom door in the fetal position, naked. Do you feel awkward reading that? Oh good, me neither.  After about 15 minutes, I finally admitted defeat and literally crawled back to my bed. I couldn't stand up for more than 10 seconds without becoming nauseous. 

Chris was able to nurse me back to health (only after several comments/giggles about how he was right) with some juice. I ended up being late to class that day, and also had to teach myself a new way to walk, since I was so sore. 

Moral of the story: Making fun of your husband could lead you to laying in the fetal position naked, wondering if that's what death feels like--karma is real.

Insanity: 1 Shayli: 0