Looking in the Crystal Ball

There's a lot Joy and I still don't know about what is going to happen in the next few months, but for anyone interested, we do have some decisions made at least. So here's a rough timeline, if everything works out the way we think. It brings to mind the old line, "If you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans." These should be worth a chuckle.

We hope to have heard back from any school still interested in me this week. Within the next couple weeks I will be flying out to visit Nigeria. We hope to have a final decision about where then or very shortly thereafter. So we'll stop being silent/coy/private in a few weeks.

Baby Lavinia arrives June 24 and we begin a frantic dash to get her passported and visad.

Early July we will move out of Ithaca and visit our families in California and Utah, blessing Lavinia in my parents' ward.

Late July or early August we leave for our grand, three year adventure.

I'm sorry we've been keeping rather quiet about things online. It's certainly not for lack of interest as we can find precious little else to talk about that is quite so engaging. Until a decision is made, though, we would rather not jinx anything. The places still on the table are each very interesting prospects that we are excited about and we'd love to tell you more ... soon. We just know we probably won't be in Ithaca for more than another 10 weeks.

Ethics and Babies

Many parents and educators would endorse a view of infants and toddlers close to that of a recent Onion headline: “New Study Reveals Most Children Unrepentant Sociopaths.” ... A growing body of evidence, though, suggests that humans do have a rudimentary moral sense from the very start of life. With the help of well-designed experiments, you can see glimmers of moral thought, moral judgment and moral feeling even in the first year of life. Some sense of good and evil seems to be bred in the bone.

The link is here and the hat tip is all MR's.

Diaper Review

We started putting Hyrum in Luvs and they were alright - "better than store brand." But when we tried out some Pampers, they held better and we had fewer blow-outs for the same size. So we spent a few cents extra per diaper.

The next diaper brand "up" the pole was supposed to be Huggies, but we were pretty happy with Pampers. When we went to Sam's Club for the first time last December, though, they were selling Huggies for about the same price, so we thought it was time to try it out.

We are greatly disappointed. Lots of blow outs, they don't hold on right, and the other day the diaper let some escape - which he promptly decided to throw out of the crib around the room.

So looks like Pampers wins for us. And Hooray for diapers.com. I am also informed that they are marketing to mothers by donating vaccines for each diaper purchased. If only they didn't have Elmo on the diaper!

The Powers That Are Too Full Of Themselves decree that we must tell you: no, we do not have a financial interest in any of these companies.

Baby Fact of the Day

Babies are learning your language in the womb and come out crying differently depending on what language they hear.

Crying over spilled milk

When Joy was pumping milk for Hyrum, the process was long and took a lot out of her physically and emotionally. When even a drop of precious Mommymilk spilled, it was a traumatic experience. We learned a whole new side of the old saying "Don't cry over spilled milk."

I used to think it meant not crying over piddling things - what's a little milk? When milk is your child's lifeblood and comes at great cost to your beloved, milk is much more valuable. To a dairy farmer, milk might be your livelihood and the ability to feed your family and keep them warm. Milk is important!

But what is done is done. Crying won't change that fact. You just take your licks and move on.

We've had a lot of licks lately!

I was cleaning dishes 10ish days ago when a glass shattered into my pinky finger. I'm still getting all the infection out of it. It'll leave a scar.

I was putting in the rest of the storm windows Friday morning and put one on the other side of the baby gate. I stepped over the gate and put a 6 inch scrape in my leg on the storm window that bled much of the day. Though it's hurt for most of the last 3 days, at least I'm not limping.

Joy got a second degree burn on her elbow last night while making cookies for home and visiting teachees.

Joy has a cold sore.

We're all either getting rid of colds or trying to avoid them. This implies that I'm behind on my sleep and have been aching all over my body most of the last few days.

Hyrum has a terrible dieaper rash and doesn't want to sit anywhere. We think he's also getting ready for a growth spurt because he's been irritable as anything and not sleeping as well as usual (aka 8 hours isntead of 11).

Then today at church, we returned to the spilled milk. I got out of the car and spilled a cup of milk on my suit and the car ... just like happened last week ... TWICE ... when getting out of the car and when Hy dumped a cup on me and my seat while perched on my shoulders. Another cup fell from the pew when Joy moved something else and it burst open, so I ran to bathroom to get paper to wipe it up during the sacrament itself. We no sooner got home, but the third sippee cup of milk we brought for Hyrum burst open and spilled over the floor and Joy.

Oh, and then I dropped my lunch - chicken parmesan - on the floor next to the gargbage can.

And no, it doesn't help that the pioneers had it worse. No use crying over any of it, though. Just keep moving. "Clean it up. See if you can do better next time" Joy adds sagely. "Laugh when you write it down on your blog." Now I'm off to cook our stir fry.... Pray for it. Gravity is ag'in us.

Death in the Family

Brrryanna D. Watson

-- my Friend, Companion, Comfort, Baby, and Schoolmaster to prepare me for Joy --
passed away last week.

Dad let me know (out of nowhere) over dinner on Friday night. When he said, "We said goodbye to Bryana," the look on his face was as if he were starting a story, and I waited for the Not Funny punchline. But he didn't continue to say "as we left her at the vet" or "and she waved back." It took a couple minutes, as he told me about how they had to make the choice to have her put down, for it to sink in. Joy said my eyes looked like something had died inside.

[As you can probably surmise, this is going to be a long one, as much therapy for me as anything else. I haven't had time to properly mourn her yet, and this is part of that. So there's no need to read on if you don't want to ... as if you ever needed to. Anyway.]

We met Bree around the beginning of school in 1992. Mom's cat had just died and we went to the animal shelter to find her a new one (we were down to just two at that time, and that just wasn't right). Dad instructed us in the car, "Now, we are here for your mother to find a cat. We are all here to help, but no one is allowed to fall in love with a cat except your mother." He then proceeded to fall in love with a long haired cat named Princess who became his office cat for many happy years.

Mom and I continued into the kitten home. I was looking along one wall of kittens (hmm, kitten ... kitten ... another kitten....) when one in the far corner I couldn't see reached her paw outside of the cage and batted me on the nose! I turned to look at her ... and was instantly smitten. She was so adorable! I asked if I could please hold her. The lady got her out of the cage and she just leaped into my arms and climbed up onto my shoulder. She began rubbing my face with hers and purring and purring like she had found a long-lost friend. They had named her "Brrryanna" because when she spoke, instead of saying "Meow," she said, "Brrrow?"

Even though she was only 9 months old herself at that point, she had already had a litter of kittens. She had been living on the street when the shelter found her. Years later, an x-ray found that a BB pellet had been shot into her during that time too. I always liked the image of having saved some poor young woman from a really bad situation (Cosette or her mother from Les Mis?) and given her the home and a chance to be loved she had always deserved.

Mom and Dad discussed it with me. They agreed I could have her on condition that I take care of her and pay for everything. I asked them some questions about how much cat food and vet trips cost. I didn't make anything like that. I sadly concluded that I couldn't have her. We went home.

I continued being sad for the next couple weeks, when I came home from school to discover Brrryana there waiting for me. Mom told me, "She is my cat. She will sleep in your room and you will take care of her, but we will pay for it." My best guess is that my parents decided that since I was mature enough to know I couldn't take care of her, I was finally ready to.

Oh, I loved little Bree! She and I would lay on the floor while I did my homework, with her sometimes batting at my pen to get my attention. She loved to chase balled up pieces of paper around the room. She always climbed up onto my shoulder, where she could perch like a parrot, and purr happily, sometimes rubbing my face, sometimes licking my hair (as in the picture).

There was just one problem, really. She never did learn how to use a litter box. She particularly liked school papers. Once when I told my teacher I couldn't turn in an assignment because my cat had peed on it, everyone laughed and said what a bad liar I was. So I brought it in the next day in a plastic baggie and said she could still have it if she wanted. Some few groused that I had probably left it in her box, but I was generally believed after that. She did end up teaching me not to leave anything important on the floor that way, though. She also taught me to make my bed and put a plastic sheet over it to protect that too.

Mom and Dad cared for her for six years while I was at BYU or on my mission in Germany. Once on my mission, I sent her a old sock I had worn out. Mom and Dad pulled it out, wondering what that was for and tossed it on the ground. Bree came right up to it, rubbed her face up against, purring happily and batted it around. Every morning for months Mom would come downstairs to find it in a new place because Bree had been playing with it during the night. She remembered her daddy.

When I moved out here to Ithaca, I finally managed to get an apartment that would allow pets and took full ownership of my little girl. Dad and I drove out here from California, with her slightly drugged. She was a perfect little angel on the trip, staying put in her litterbox most of the trip until we stopped for the night, when she would get out of her box, join us in the hotel room, and use her box in the bathroom. She never tried to escape. You could leave doors and windows wide open and she would never leave.

She really changed a lot in Ithaca. She had always been the kind of cat that would sit on the back of the couch all day, eat and drink, and that's about it. In Ithaca, she came alive. She learned to speak a great deal. One of her favorite activities was to look out the window at the squirrels. She followed me back and forth in our small apartment whenever I paced. She slept with me, laying close up to my chest with her head resting on my hand. She was a good part of the glue that held me together through a few very difficult years until I met Joy. She also got sick a lot, so I would walk with her on my shoulder for an hour to get to the vet to have them tell me they still didn't know what was wrong with her.

Bree happily accepted Joy when she came around, willing to rub against her shoe or sit in her lap when Joy let her, but also willing to give Joy her space. Joy was touched by that. But as our courtship got more and more serious, Bree became a more difficult problem. Joy couldn't stand the thought of living in the same house with an animal that sheds, let alone one with Bree's bathroom problems -- we didn't know Joy was allergic to cats at that time, but she often said she wished she were so she had an excuse for her aversion to them.

I brought Bree home with me to California the Christmas that I proposed to Joy (who was also staying with us). Again, she was a perfectly well-behaved puss on the plane [and no, she wasn't in my luggage]. While there, I made the difficult (heartbreaking) decision to leave Bree with Mom and Dad so Joy could feel comfortable in our home together.

It was the right thing to do, particularly in light of what we know now about Joy's allergies. I got to visit Bree once or twice a year when I came home, and though she had calmed back down to a tired, noisy old cat, she remembered me. By the time she turned 15, she was too old to really climb up onto my shoulder anymore, but if I put her there, she would purr contentedly. Last Christmas she couldn't even manage to hold her balance on me anymore. I just sat with her in the upstairs bathroom to talk to her, pet her, and let her walk around me and mew (then change my clothes and wash up for Joy).

When she went downhill, she went down fast. Mom and Dad got real concerned about her and got her in to the vet immediately. Since her last visit, she had contracted diabetes and her kidneys had failed, so she was seriously dehydrated, and had an infection. There was no way to cure it all, particularly the kidney failure. I know that putting her down had to have been the right decision.

Every time I went home, I knew it could be the last time I would ever see my beloved cat. So every time we left I said a tearful goodbye. Even so, my real regret is that I wasn't there when she was put down. I wanted to be there for her, to let her know she wasn't alone, that I loved her so much even though we had to be apart. I should have been there, I keep feeling, even though it probably makes no real difference. I try to tell myself that's impractical, even if I had been let in on it before it happened: no time, no money. But even though I was hurrying to get my dissertation draft done, I could have kept working on it on the plane and been back in time to meet with my committee. And even though we really don't have much money left over after Hyrum's birth and the mobile home we just bought, I did get a free ticket on my last flight that I was going to use for Joy to visit her family at Thanksgiving that I could have (selfishly) used to be there for Bree.

Dad tells me that she felt loved and purred a bit when she brought her in, so she wasn't alone. I know they've taken very good care of her, given her (as Dad put it) a good retirement. I'm really so very thankful for all they've done, paid for, and particularly put up with! on her/my behalf for some 13 of her 16 years. Mom posted a very nice blog (after I was told) with memories from the other family members about Bree.

I am comforted in knowing that, in one strange sense, it was the right time for her to go. When I was a teenager and then a YSA, her constant love was a sign of hope that someone from outside the family could choose to love me. She had always completely accepted me and taken me in from the first, and I was able to love her too, faults and all. After I met and grew to love Joy, I referred to her more often as my baby. I learned to be gentle, and to give appropriate, loving discipline. And now we have a real baby. My baby.

Hyrum doesn't perch very well on my shoulders. He hasn't learned to purr, and "Brrrow" is a little beyond him too. He doesn't much care for it when I scratch behind his ears. But he feels so right in my arms and will be fun to hug. His smile is just as expressive and as freely given, and someday he'll even learn to talk! And he loves being bounced, which Bree would never have put up with. It's a good trade, and always was. But I will miss her.

There is one other grand comfort, from the "sealed portion" of the scriptures. In the Bible Dictionary under the entry for the Revelation of John, it records among the doctrinal points in that book: "Animals are resurrected from the dead, and there are animals in heaven, redeemed by the blood of Christ (Rev. 5: 11-14; D&C 77: 3, HC 5: 343)." God willing, we'll be together again. And our grand hope is that, in the resurrection, Joy's perfected body won't be allergic to cats anymore, and she can rejoin our family forever. Another reason to be thankful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ!

Sleepers, (do not) Awake

This just in from the BH Stables (that's Baby-Hyrum for those who don't speak acronym): Grandma reports that Hyrum slept through the entire night for the first time last night! For the last week or so, he'd manage to do two 5-6 hour naps at night, so there was one middle of the night feeding for her and Joy to do. The repayment on that is that he gets to be awake during the morning, of course.

Back of the envelope calculations indicate he should be at almost 8 pounds. We got us a sleeper!
(Source: Associated Grandma)

Silly little dreams come true

Joy is always fascinated to learn what unusual dreams/goals her husband has, which he only seems to tell her about after they happen (albeit, not usually in the third person). Today was the fulfillment of another little dream.

When I first came to Ithaca 6 years ago, I wondered if I would manage to get married, or even have a child while I was here. One of the symbols of that blessed turn of events was the changing table in the men's bathroom at church. I wanted to change my little child on that changing table before I left Ithaca. Every once in a while, when I felt low about my dating chances, I would talk to that changing table. Yes, out loud. No, no one else was there. And then when we got married, I still thought about it -- maybe someday, we'll have a kid, and I'll be able to change their diaper on you.

Today I did. It was also his first time being changed in public.

Joy comments to our son, busily sucking on her finger, "You have such a fun daddy. He talks to changing tables. The question is, will he still talk to the changing table, now that the dream came true, or is he done?"

Well, today I spoke to Hyrum, rather than the changing table. I think mostly I speaking to Hyrum in the future, rather than the table itself. It's nice when silly little dreams come true

Welcome home, Baby-H

The pictures we've posted so far have been largely from his stay at the hospital. Here are some of the darling boy is in his natural habitat:




Hyrum watches his mother ... who was eating chocolate at the time.
"Hmm... how can I get me some of that?"












"Maybe if I do some tricks with my tongue I can get some chocolate."












"Seventy six trombones led the big parade!"













"The food goes in here, Dad. C'mon!"














"Hey, keep away from my bink! I'll deck ya!"










(Scenes deleted from Mike Tyson Punch Out)














It was a total knock out. A happy victorious baby.







Actually, even though Joy and I think he most often looks like her brothers, he kinda looks like me in this shot. How, we can't identify yet, but it's nice to think he gets more from me than his sneeze and his quivering chin. For the record, the baby Look-a-Like Meter has come up with 10% more like Joy and spot on, dead even between us, depending which picture of Joy we use.

Gaining Weight

I haven't had the heart to write this post until now, since the emergencies with our baby appear to be over at present. It has been several days of real panic.

Sunday we found what we thought was blood in our babies diaper. Along with the fact that he just hadn't been eating enough to keep a bird alive this really was more than I could take and I wept much. We decided that we should give Hyrum a blessing and invited a neighbor, Michael, over to help Derrill give the priesthood blessing. We did receive some measure of comfort from the blessing. Derrill's mother suggested we call her brother Sherm who has worked in a Neo-natal unit and is a family practice doctor. When we called Sherm he said that the orange spots in his diaper where normal, called brick dust, and that they would go away (later we found out they are more normal for an infant that is dehydrated).

Sherm also talked to us about feeding our baby and suggested that we visit with a lactation consultant. He said that we needed to get 10 oz of milk into our baby a day. He also suggested that some things that would help me relax for trying to nurse and to use a warm cloth for 5 minutes before feedings. Additionally a good friend, Marcy suggested somethings that have been very helpful.

So armed with new advise, I was able to get Hyrum to nurse for 4 to 5 feedings before we saw the Pediatrician on Monday. I had been somewhat relieved by his starting to nurse. We set up a schedule and time for me to get done with feedings (so they wouldn't last 2 hours anymore).

Then we went to the Pediatrician and found out that Hyrum had lost at least 15% of his birth weight. A parent should be worried if the baby looses 10%. We discussed feeding options with the doctor and he suggested I see a lactation consultant also. I spoke to the lactation consultant on the phone and made an appointment to see her the next day.

PLAN: We would feed him mother milk from a syringe and pump 10 times a day, by Wednesday if he had not gained at least 2 oz then we would start to suppliment with formula, and if he hadn't gained any by Friday it would be the hospital and IV fluids for him. I was somewhat panicked and therefore fed him every two hours trying to get more than 10 feedings a day.

The visit with the lactation consultant went well and we rented a hospital type pump so that we could more efficiently extract mother's milk.

Wednesday we went in to see the doctor and happy day our baby had gained 7 oz in the two days that had past. I was so relieved! There is more to do, I still have the goal of breast feeding him, which is not happening at present. But I feel very happy with his health and that things are going in the right direction. Heavenly Father has been so good to us. I am so grateful for our sweet little one and have faith that things will continue to improve.

Back by popular demand

So I had the chance to count last night, and I took almost 130 pictures of or with Hyrum in the hospital. Here are some more of his different faces and memories.
When Hyrum was coming out, the doctor told me to get my camera ready. The doc didn't seem to understand that we didn't want any pictures of bloody naked baby. "Most dads would be clicking away by now," he said, severing the umbilical cord. No, I had my orders, my preferences, and the angry looks of more than half a dozen wives whose husbands had taken pictures they were uncomfortable with. So this was the very first picture of Hyrum. I'm considering learning how to photoshop so I can stick an apple in his grip. Doesn't it look like he's biting down on something?





This is Hyrum in his first outfit, about to come home. Looks like he's already figured out what the true purpose of clothing is: teething toy.










Hey, is that ... pizza I smell? Let me have some!
(One of Joy's favorite shots)










This was the expression on Joy's face when she first got a good look at her baby and hold him. Can I get a big chorus of cyber- awwwwws?









Here he is laying on daddy again. He really does seem to have a preference for keeping his bottom lip tucked in.... But it sure is nice to get shots with the corners of his lips turned up slightly. Tiny hints of the smile to come.









The hospital rooms had nice borders around them that them feel very cozy and homey. This was ours.












Hyrum tries to sing along, but doesn't know the words yet. But he has nice, rounded vowels (mostly waaaa) and great volume!












Happy Mommy.














"Good night, New York!" mmmwa!

Starring: Hyrum I

A quick word of explanation why this first video is so cool. Hyrum had not yet eaten at the hospital, and it was 48 hours since he was born. After another frustrating attempt of constant screaming, I went out to the nurse and asked her when they were going to rush in with an IV pack (only I didn't put it that way). She said it was borderline. So Joy and I had a difficult conversation, and with a new steel in her eyes that the nurses noticed, Joy began a battle campaign that lasted ALL NIGHT and into the morning until about 10am with Hyrum.

Finally, at long last, he nursed. This was the video of a happy, fed Hyrum for the first time. We were so thrilled and happy.


The second video is just cool because it was his first night on earth and he looks so adorable.

Baby Heroin

To briefly explain Joy's last couple posts: Hyrum does not like to feed. He has been a very hungry baby, and therefore a very unhappy baby when it's feeding time. VERY unhappy. Then one night, Joy came down with a solemn look on her face and asked if I had strong objections to giving him a pacifier. Well, no, I assume that all babies end up with one [though my mother tells me I didn't ever get one] and then you work on weaning them off that at a later time, but the peace it buys now is worth the deferred pain.

He LOVED it. He quieted down and baby-smiled at once.

When it fell out, I popped it back in because he started to cry. When he cried after having had it for only two minutes, I began to worry.

When it fell out the second time, I popped it back in and he put up one hand to keep it held in. I commented to Joy that I hadn't realized just how addictive binkies are. They're Baby Heroin! Joy of course already knew this and told me that was why she was so serious when she asked if I thought it was a good idea. Well.

When it fell out the third time, I stuck it in his hand and guided it into his mouth. He slapped both hands over it to hold it in. This being 2 in the morning, Joy and I doubled over laughing and I managed to get the picture before sleep overpowered him and it fell out again, without being noticed.


We were gratified in the next two days that he sometimes spat the bink out, and that he still liked our company and fingers even after discovering nirvana. The baby doc has since told us to ixnay the acifierpay to avoid ipplenay confusion [gotta watch the censors, who I hope don't mind mentioning heroin], and he hasn't minded.

We're really glad we did it because it strengthened his feeding reflex, and we feel it gave him some confidence. He has fed better since we gave it to him.

Baby Showers!

The first one was about January 3rd, I think. Derrill had just left Santa Barbara for his job market conference, and I was still there with his parents. Derrill's home ward was very generous in giving us a baby shower. It was so fun! So many people came.

It was at Sister Houston's house, the same place we had our open house when we got married. Everyone was so nice and came. It was a great time. And I want to thank them again for the wonderful party and their generosity. There were 30-40 people there, and everyone said they were surprised at how many people, that they had never seen so many attend.

Derrill says this is just proof of how much everyone loves me, and since he's typing this on my behalf, he gets to interrupt.

I was overwhelmed by all the love. Below are some pictures that I recently received from that baby shower. We played "When will the baby drop" where you put a teeny toy baby in an ice cube and have people guess when the baby will fall out of his ice cube, and "Baby hidden objects" where you put a whole bunch of things that a baby might need or play with on a tray and people have to remember them after they are hidden from view.



My other shower was Feb 23, here in Ithaca. My friend Shari wanted to do the baby shower for me, and many kind people in the branch wanted to help out with it.

(D: Actually, Shari begged for the privilege before we were even pregnant, and then the other women jumped in because they really wanted to help too. Joy is so loved!) Derrill has been bragging on me....

So this one was fun too! And many of my friends came to this party. There's a picture of the beautiful Baby Cake that Jen made. We played "chocolate poo in the diapers" where you melt a candy bar in a diaper and have everyone guess from inspection and smell what candy bar it used to be, and "Which Watson?" meaning people guessed whether Derrill or Joy did ___________. People got to guess what Derrill and I were up to when we were kids. (D: We had enjoyed preparing that when Joy threw Shari's baby shower, so I was pretty excited to do that for ours.)

My favorite foods at both showers were quiche. There were baby quiches at the first shower (D: Made with real baby! Accept no substitutes.) and *smack Derrill playfully* a large, homemade quiche at the second one.

Too many baby pictures?

Too many baby pictures? What's that mean?
It's like too much money, there's no such thing....

Joy is impressed at Derrill's ability to bond with Hyrum while still getting his work done. Hyrum happily napped in daddy's lap for over 2 hours.

This was Joy, just about to go into battle. Thirty minutes ago the doctor said Hyrum would need to be hand- delivered to her, and this is her go-to attitude. Within 2 minutes, they wheeled her out to produce another miracle.

I'm proposing a contest to come up with the best caption for this one. He was laying on Daddy at the time, who got a little camera-happy with the close-ups.


As a kid, Derrill's favorite toy was named Sheep. This is Sheep's younger brother, Lamb, come in to check up on the progeny.


Hyrum ponders deep thoughts:

What is the meaning of life?

How can free will coexist with the fore- knowledge of God?

Why does Dad need to take so many pictures? You'd think he'd never seen a baby before!



Word up, Yo. Welcome to my crib.










The end of a busy night. Time for some shut eye.