Wesley is doing so great with walking. You can just see his little boy bravery level increasing daily. He can push himself to standing from a squat and then take steps. When he stumbles, sometimes he’ll just push himself right up again and keep walking. I’ve been starting to count his steps, and at his best I’ve seen him take about ten at a time across a room. Tonight I saw him push himself to standing in order to walk towards a toy instead of crawl to it. He’s seventeen months old, and really growing up. Still no teeth, though. His physical therapist comes on Friday and I think she’s going to keel over in amazement at his progress this month.

In other news, I learned last week that my miscarriage was only partial and am therefore still in the process of miscarrying. Four weeks and counting. I’m still pregnant, fourteen weeks now, but not with baby, just with “stuff.”

I went to get an ultrasound last week, but since my doctor’s u/s technician was sick they got me an appointment at the hospital. It was one of those full bladder ultrasounds where you have to drink 32 ounces of water an hour beforehand. All I have to say is that these might also be known as The Ultrasounds of The Devil, particularly when the technicians are running behind and you have to stand in the waiting room (because it’s too uncomfortable to sit), bouncing back and forth and crossing and uncrossing your legs for half an hour until they finally get you in and then proceed to push on your full bladder for another twenty minutes to get the pictures they need. Add to that a fussy kid who was crying for half of the appointment, and then add a bonus intra vaginal ultrasound. And to make it the very best experience ever, add the bill we got today from the hospital for $729.15.

Futhermore, the next day I went back to my doctor, and since their technician was well again I had another round of ultrasounds (thankfully sans full bladder). The verdict: Yeah, there’s stuff in there, all right.

So still I wait.

The good news is that John and I booked a week-long vacation to Mexico at the end of April at a resort on the ocean, south of Cancun and north of Playa Del Carmen. Whenever I feel down I revert to thinking of warm sunshine, bathing suits, reading by the glorious blue lagoon pool, and snorkeling. It helps.

Since December I’ve been studying and preparing to take the AFAA (Aerobics and Fitness Association of America) certification exam for primary group exercise. I’m already certified to teach group exercise by Fitour, but AFAA is more highly accredited. And the AFAA exam process is harder.

Yesterday was the Big Day. I woke up on Friday morning at 5, wondering if I should go ahead with the exam. I’d already paid for the test, I had spent two months of my life preparing for the test, and it costs a bit of money to change the date of the test. But on Thursday night as I was studying I had a miscarriage. I had been expecting it; I was twelve weeks pregnant but at a routine ultrasound at ten weeks had learned it was no good. So I’ve been waiting for the miscarriage and worrying it would interfere with a multitude of commitments I considered too important to miss, including my AFAA test. Was I done miscarrying? Was my body able to endure a day of aerobic activity and three exams?

I opted to go and drove two hours in the rain and, later, snow to get to the testing site. The workshop presenter was fabulous with an equally fabulous British accent. We spent hours reviewing anatomy, kinesiology, proper form and alignment, and preparing ourselves for the practical exams. There are two practical exams: One tests your knowledge of strengthening exercises (“Demonstrate at least two strengthening exercises for the pectoralis major…”) and stretches corresponding to each of the ten muscle groups. That test is done in a group setting, so you’re all demonstrating together. I think I passed this part, although I know I made at least one mistake.

The other practical test is an individual presentation where you stand in front of the class and demonstrate a movement (cardio, strength, or flexibility) and teach the class three variations of intensity. You’re encouraged to speak a lot during your presentation about proper form and alignment. This was my favorite part of the whole day; I had fun teaching my cardio portion to the class. I got a lot of whoops and hollers, which to an aerobics instructor is a good thing. I’m sure I passed this exam, even though I accidentally made a reference to table dancing. During the most intense part of the exercise we were jogging and jumping, and I told the class to land softly on the balls of their feet and, to help them do this, to pretend they’re moving on a glass surface. Except I couldn’t think of the word “surface” on the fly and instead said “on a glass table” and added, “Like you’re table dancing.” Just after it came out of my mouth I realized maybe an AFAA examination wasn’t the place to be talking about table dancing, so I quickly added, “The good kind of table dancing!” Thankfully, the table dancing comment got me a lot of those happy-sounding whoops and hollers, the loudest of which came from the examiner herself.

Finally (and by this time the day was starting to feel long) it was time for the 100-question written exam, which we had an hour to finish. The last thing I expected was to be the first one done, but that’s what happened. When I answered the last question I looked around and everyone was still hard at it. I didn’t think I had gone particularly quickly through the test. I mean, either you know it or you don’t. There were a few questions I had circled to come back to at the end that I wasn’t sure about, and I took a few extra minutes reconsidering my answers, but even with that I finished first. That could either be a good sign or a bad one. I have to answer at least 80 of the 100 questions correctly to pass, which I think I did, but I’ll find out for sure in 4-6 weeks when the results are in.

To celebrate the end of my studying days (which made me feel like I was back in college) and the end of my pregnancy, today I am cleaning the house, doing laundry, listening to Harry Potter on tape, and playing with Wesley. It’s a good day to move on.

Good news! Though I wish it could be that Wesley finally has teeth, it’s almost as good. I got a job teaching Zumba and aerobics at a local gym. The best part is that I will get paid to do something I love and would be doing anyway. My classes start next week. And this week I’m subbing a couple of classes at BYU, which is pretty much the best place in the world to teach. You can’t beat the energy of a gymnasium full of 20-year-old girls.

Also, it looks like John and I will be taking a vacation this spring to Mexico, which will be a nice break. Wesley will get to bond with the grandparents while we’re away. I bet he’s planning to wait for us to leave and THEN break in some teeth while we’re gone. He’ll probably start walking, too, out of spite for leaving him home. But if that’s what it takes…

1. Order takeout from Macaroni Grill: 2 entrées and 1 dessert. Cost, including tip: $50. Average cost per item: $16.66.
2. Get home and then discover your lasagna is burned.
3. Call Macaroni Grill and ask for replacement entrée.
4. Manager offers 2 new entrées and 2 new desserts, plus throws in $15 worth of gift certificates.

Final tally: 4 entrées, 3 desserts, $15 in gift certificates. Average cost per item: $5.

That’s what I’m talkin’ about.

Yesterday morning I brought home two boxes of Ding Dongs. I thought they’d be good Christmas treats to hand out to the eleven-year-olds I teach at church this Sunday, and the leftovers would be good for special Christmas Eve treats when my family is over for dinner. They’re wrapped in cute silver foil (I opened a box to see), which I think is very Christmasy and would look good stacked on a tray with other Christmas goodies.

Last night John pulled me into the kitchen and said, “I saw something today,” and opened the pantry door and pointed to the Ding Dongs. I told him, “Yeah, I know,” and told him why I got them. Then he blushed a little and said one of them is missing.

I just laughed. I knew he liked chocolate treats but hadn’t realized that Ding Dongs were one of his favorites. Then he pulled out the box and showed me the nutritional facts.

Wow.

Each Ding Dong has:

180 calories, with 80 of those calories coming from fat
9 g fat (14%), with 7g of that (35%) being saturated fat

A serving is actually TWO cakes, which ramps up your fat intake to 29% of your daily needs, and saturated fat to 65%.

You might as well kiss your arteries goodbye. I hope my eleven-year-olds are heart-healthy to start with so the Ding Dongs don’t kill them right before Christmas.

Wes has a cough, a deep cough. I bought him some Vicks Baby Rub today, but not sure it helped. I took him shopping with me this afternoon (it’s supposed to snow tomorrow, so I got it out of the way today). First I took him to a toy store called Funfinity. I’d never really been there before. I bought Wes three Christmas presents:

– 3 Magnetic Farm Friends (for him to play with on the fridge)
– 20 Wooden Dinosaur Magnets (ditto)
– 30 Wooden blocks in a cart (for him to stack and to practice pulling the little cart)

Hopefully he wasn’t paying too much attention and will still be surprised. When I checked out the guy at the register asked if I wanted to make a $1 donation to Kids Who Count, and I said sure. He started to say what a great organization it is and I said, I know, we use it for Wesley. He told me about two disabled kids in his family and how great Kids Who Count has been, and I told him how Wes gets three therapists to visit him every month and how great they are. He asked me what Wes’s diagnosis is and I told him. And he said he thought DS kids have the cutest faces and smiles. Which of course they do.

Then Wes and I went to the Quilted Bear. I was looking for candy-making supplies, but alas, found none. I had Wes in the Baby Bjorn carrier so I wouldn’t have to hold him or lug the car seat with him in it. People always stare at Wes when he’s in the baby carrier like that, with his little face poking out the top. After Quilted Bear we walked down the strip to the Dollar Store, then Robert’s Crafts, and then Deseret Book. At the Dollar Store Wes and I bought some sandwich bags that have holiday motifs on them for giving away goodies to our neighbors and friends. And at Roberts I bought melting chocolate, sprinkles, and sucker sticks. Lastly, we headed to Kmart and bought three bags of double stuff Oreos. (We’re going to make some version of these.)

By the time we were in Kmart Wes was getting tired and very vocal. Not whiny or crying–just making noise. Kind of loud, insistent noise. “Ba ba ba BAH!!!” Then I dragged him one more place–the grocery store to get French bread for dinner. We had been out shopping for a while, and Wes fell asleep just as we got home a little before six p.m. He’s still asleep in his car seat. I should probably go wake him and see if he wants a bottle or a clean diaper or something.