The mother of all posts

Yes, I am a little behind. No, I will not make 800 bagillion posts to catch up. Instead, I will provide you with an index to navigate through this ridiculously long post. This way, you can pick and choose what you want to read, or if you so desire, you may read what is equitable to 800 bagillion posts. Your choice. Your time. In fact, you don't have to read past here if you don't want to.

Index

1. The Decision

2. The Move

3. The Drive

4. The Fun

5. The Peyton

6. The Apartment

7. The Tragedy

8. The Now

1. The Decision

Has it really been this long? Wow, I'm pretty bad. Since April 16, 2011, one very VERY important thing has occurred: we decided on a medical school. The choice was between Baylor College of Medicine in Houston, TX and UT Southwestern in Dallas. Who won? 

Dallas.

Though both were very tempting, we felt best about Dallas, Texas. Both medical schools are great. It was a very hard decision. 

Dan will start doing research at UTSW at the end of May. He's working with an orthopedic surgeon for the project. 

2. The Move

We began the "moving" process several months in advance. In fact, before we had even officially decided which school we were going to, we had reserved U-Pack moving pods. We had a pretty sure idea that we were headed for Dallas, but we were still waiting on the financial aid information from Baylor. 

We bought a bunch of boxes from The Home Depot (who, for the record, has the least expensive boxes available ... and believe me, after price-checking about 10 different "box-sellers," I know). Then we started packing up the boxes. We started out being really good and keeping things from the same room in the same box. Toward the end it was just shove-everything-in-whatever-box-it-will-fit-in. 

I was really worried that Peyton would not transition well from crib to Pack-N-Play. Fortunately for us, he did just fine! 

3. The Drive

All of our greatest fears were realized on the first leg of our drive. We were headed to Chandler, AZ to stay with my sister for a couple days. About 20 minutes into the car ride, Peyton started screaming. I lost my sanity at least five times as we trekked what should have been 11 hours in 14.5. 

Within the first four hours, Peyton spent about three crying, blew out his diaper twice (and I mean BLEW OUT) and I had a mental breakdown. 

That leg of the journey didn't get any better. We ended up using burp cloths under his bum with the hope that they would catch any more leakage and protect the car seat (since Peyton ever-so-kindly decided to skip his bowel movements the day before and more-than-made-up-for-it in the car). It worked well. Oh, but how the hours were sooooo long and head-aching. 

I learned I have a very difficult time driving while Peyton is incessantly and inconsolably screaming. In fact, I develop road rage. I was yelling at all the cars around me and their "stupid" drivers. In reality, only one deserved it. He cut me off twice and one was a close call. I admit, I probably shouldn't have tailed the old lady. 

The drive from Chandler to El Paso, TX was better, but mostly because it was shorter. That leg of our trip was only six hours. You can endure most anything for six hours. Even the screaming of a child. But really, I think Peyton did a lot better on that leg of the trip.

We divided up the drive from El Paso to Dallas into two. We drove "five hours" (meaning, "what-should-have-been-five-hours") to Midland and stayed at a hotel there. Dan really wanted me to try the "oil country" water, but I graciously declined. Pretty sure he only wanted me to try it because it's nasty. In fact, I know that's why, because his mom had us bring lots of water to get us through there. 

There were a million oil rigs along the way. Peyton did pretty well the first half and from Midland to Dallas; the second half he did amazingly well. He actually slept a good majority of the way! It was ... pleasantly surprising. 

Conclusion: pretty sure labor is easier than driving with a screaming baby. This coming from a woman who's baby was posterior for most of her 21 hours of labor. 

4. The Fun

We had a lot of fun along the way to Dallas. And I'm not referring to the driving. Like I mentioned before, we stayed with my sister and her family in Chandler. She taught us a fun version of Monopoly (I know right? Sounds like an oxymoron. But seriously, Monopoly Deal is bomb.com), and some French game that was fun, but French ... so you'll have to decide if you're okay with that. It was called Milles Bornes. I liked it, but I wouldn't admit it because I hate losing. And I don't think I ever won at that game.

We also had A LOT of good food. Tonya's an excellent cook and she provided us with delicious breakfasts, lunches and dinners. I know, we were totally spoiled. Oh, did I mention the desserts? 

We also got to go to In-N-Out. And two of Leigh Ann's softball games. She's a star. And we got to play with Leigh Ann, Kanyon and Will. My favorite happenings with Will were: (1) When he picked up every pine cone within 10 feet of where we were sitting at the softball game, chewed it up and spit it out; and (2) When he was growling under the table and I was suddenly surprised to realize he was licking my toe. Love that kid. 

While we were at Tonya's we also got to visit Dan's mission president, his wife, and Dan's old companion TJ. It was a lot of  fun to see them all. We went to dinner at Texas Roadhouse. I LOVE sweet potatoes smothered in all things sweet and unhealthy: butter, cinnamon sugar, brown sugar and perfectly browned marshmallows. I'm now salivating just typing about it. 


Next, we went to El Paso. Of course, we had to go to Taco C (that's native El Paso-ese for Taco Cabana). We also went to Carnitas (best authentic Mexican I've had in a loooooong time ... thank you Provo for your lack of the aforementioned). We hung out, relaxed and went to the zoo. The zoo is really close to Juarez (scary!) and you get off the freeway at the same exit as the bridge. I kept asking Daniel if what I was seeing was Mexico. He finally got fed up with me and explained that the border is really wide, and I wouldn't be able to see Mexico at all from where we were/where we were going. Slightly disappointed and relieved, I stopped asking questions. Apparently the border is huge! And who does it belong to? Dunno. 


The fun[niest] part of our El Paso trip was this: 


Dan's littlest brother, Seth, was so excited to tell us as soon as we arrived that he would be getting his permit soon and when he got his license, he would get to drive the Camry everywhere. 


Well, apparently it was a miracle we got as far as we did, because we took the car in to get a couple minor things checked and WHA-BAM! We found out there was a lot more that needed fixing and the car wouldn't be ready until AFTER we had to be in Dallas. 


Long story short, we drove away in the Camry and Seth claimed he wasn't getting his license anymore because he would never, EVER drive the Grand Marquis. He was so upset. I didn't think the ol' boat was that terrible ... but apparently it's enough to make a young boy cringe. Haha. 

5. The Peyton

Oh, how driving with Peyton was torturous. And oh, how the poop flowed like a fountain whenever the little man was in his car seat. Despite it all, Peyton slept amazing -- he continued sleeping through the night and was super quiet in his Pack-N-Play. I felt so blessed. 


Then we arrived in Dallas. 


It started with one night waking. "I can handle this," I thought to myself. "He's had a lot of big changes and he's teething. He'll readjust soon enough."


Then one night waking became two. Two became three. Our record is now four. 


Now, I know some women have babies who wake up every three hours from birth until one year. Peyton was never one of those. From the time he was a month-and-a-half old, he has slept 10-12 hours at night. I know there was nothing I did to be so lucky. It was purely a blessing (in my opinion, Heavenly Father wanted to give me an easy child so I would actually consider having another). Needless to say, I was living the good life as a mommy with 8+ hours of sleep each night. 


So when Peyton started waking up every three hours ... I about lost my sanity. In fact, I haven't quite found it yet. Right now, he's off and on ... some nights he'll sleep through, on others, he wakes up like clockwork. I always kept telling myself the blissful sleep I was getting would end. But honestly, I kept telling myself that in hopes that Murphy's Law would then protect me. Clearly, you can't dupe Mr. Murphy. 


Sleep issues aside, Peyton is wonderful. He's doing great. He loves it here (I think). He loves swimming. He loves going on walks. I only hope he doesn't grow up to be one of those kids who loves airplanes and squeals and screams every time one flies overhead. Why? Because living just south of DFW means there is a very big, close, loud airplane every five minutes. Oh, I just know he's gonna love airplanes! Ha. 

6. The Apartment

Can I just say ... I LOVE our apartment. Two bathrooms. More closets and cupboards than I know what to do with. Washer/dryer hookups. A DISHWASHER. Non-church carpet. Seriously, we have quite the crib. Yeah, I said crib.

We've got almost everything unpacked ... and we have most of the furniture. We're still working on a couple things, however. We need to find an entertainment center. We need to hang wall decorations/pictures. We need to find a washer/dryer. Once we have those things done, everything will be unpacked and settled.

7. The Tragedy

I have had a huge internal debate over whether I should post this story or not. Daniel wanted me to at first, then said it was too embarrassing for me. My sister said it was hilarious and ought to be shared. I thought about making a private post so that I'd at least have a record of it. I'm going to go ahead and embarrass myself for the sake of your enjoyment. Feel free to laugh ... just keep your judgments about me to yourself. Please.

So, it all started with the birth of Peyton Daniel Condie (yes, I'm going that far back in time for a brief moment). When Peyton was born, he managed to [quite literally] tear me to pieces. One of the pieces he tore was the muscle that helps control my bowel movements (do you like where this is going yet?). Since the delivery of sweet Peyton, I have not been the same. In more ways than one. The particular way I'm referring to in this narration is ... well ... my bowel movements. I have little-to-no warning when one is coming. When one comes, I have little-to-no control over it. Basically, when the time comes, there better be a bathroom close by.

Well, in the lengthy amount of time we spent on the road, you'd rightly assume there were portions of the drive nowhere near a bathroom. You'd also probably assume that I, of course, would have the sudden urge during one of those portions. You would be correct in both assumptions.

I told Dan to get off at the next exit and find me a bathroom. "I'm pretty sure the next exit isn't for about 10 miles," Dan said. "Can you make it that far?"

"Yes, but drive fast."

... One minute later ...

"I'm not gonna make it! Pull over!"

Daniel pulls over and I grab a couple of Peyton's wipes. After cautiously looking as quickly as I could to make sure no one was coming or nearby, I ... Oh, this is really embarrassing ... I squatted at the side of the car and ... well ... you get it.

Seems like no big deal, right? Happens to everyone at some point in their life, right?

Well, let me continue.

It was very, VERY windy. I tried to avoid getting hit by anything and was successful. I was not, however, successful in keeping hold of my wipes. They blew away. Far away.

I began screaming and banging on the car trying to get Dan's attention.

"Throw me the wipes! NOW! Throw me the freaking wipes!!!" I shouted, pounding the side of the car and waving my arms, thoroughly embarrassed and partially nude, squatting next to the car on the side of the highway.

Dan chucked the wipes out of his door and over the hood of the car, which fortunately I caught. I quickly finished my business and climbed into the car.

Dan was laughing mischievously.

"What did you do?" I demanded. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"I may or may not have taken a picture on my phone for you to remember this by. Don't worry, it was just your head."

"YOU WHAT? I HATE YOU! DELETE IT NOW OR I WILL NEVER, EVER SPEAK TO YOU AGAIN!"

"Are you serious?"

"YES, I'M SERIOUS! DELETE IT NOW OR I WILL NEVER SPEAK TO YOU AGAIN! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? HOW COULD YOU?"

Yeah, he took a picture. I don't know about you, but for me, that was a big no-no. Even Tonya (my sister) said that was bad. Really bad. (Mind you, she was laughing nonstop ... but she did agree Dan should not have done that).

Well, after deleting the picture, we got back on the road and continued driving. Guess what? There was an exit about a mile-and-a-half later. Guess what? It had bathrooms.

So now you've read it. You've read about the most tragically embarrassing experience of my adult [and probably entire] life.

8. The Now

Well, things are great here in Fort Worth, Texas. We love our ward. We've already made a lot of friends. We love our apartment complex. We love the area. We are super happy here. Dan started research last week and so far, he really likes the orthopedic surgeon and the residents he is working with.

Peyton is growing super fast and ... not gonna lie ... he get's cuter every day. And I swear he also gains a pound.

I've been getting into the swing of things and exercising really well. I [finally] fit into pretty much all of my pre-pregnancy clothes ... and I just have five pounds left to lose.

Sorry for the ridiculously long post ... hopefully if you read any or all of it, you don't feel like you wasted too much of your life.

=)