Moving. Post Correction

For reasons unknown, even to myself, I will now be blogging here:

www.seejanehatch.blogspot.com

Please excuse the mess.

I'm trying some new things and figuring out how I want it to work and what I want it mean.

Yuletides.

Christmas was a glorious experience this year, right down to the Christmas clementine I received in my stocking. I savored that orange like it was butter. (oh butter! Isn't butter divinity?!?....Little Women is about one of the best Christmas movies ever).

I am always more excited than anyone Christmas morning. I wake up before everyone. We woke early and came out to see the gifts Santa left us. Cash received the polar express train and with it came the bell from Santa's Sleigh. He never ceases to surprise me at what excites him. He was so thrilled about that bell. He just kept saying over and over that he really had been a good boy this year because Santa had thought to leave him and bell right off the sleigh.

We then had breakfast and went to church. I had been worrying about this for the whole month of December, but it brought a feeling to Christmas that otherwise wouldn't have been there.

It was so nice to stretch the day out opening presents slowly, remembering what it is really all about and spending the day in a relaxed, peaceful state.

We got to go sledding the next day with all the Seaman Clan. It was the whipped cream on top of lovely holiday that I have really struggled to come back to reality from.

If you didn't get a card, don't get your feelings hurt, most of the recipients went by the last name similar to mine.

6.

Cash is six years old today. At this moment he is sleeping soundly in his bed. His cousin Noah spent the night, he asked and received French Toast, a fried egg and bacon for breakfast than set to decorating and getting ready for a birthday bash. He is too pooped to poop.

All year he has been planning on a How to Train your Dragon Party. I thought he would forget and I'm not quite sure why. That kid doesn't forget anything.

Most days I call him his Dad's Twin but I can see some striking similarities here and I am proud to call him mine.

I remember six years ago like it was yesterday. There wasn't any snow. We were at Grandmas house celebrating Macy Baum Baums birthday. All day I would have pains here and there and they got continually stronger for most of the day. This being my first pregnancy I didn't really think of it until they were more painful. All of my sisters had gone over on their pregnancies and most had to be induced, so everyone doubted that I was in labor considering the fact that Cash wasn't due until December 26. But they gave me an exercise ball to sit on that made me feel ridiculous and I couldn't see how it was making my pain much better.

We left Macys party and met Dad at Poppa Rogers for some steak ( to this day I eat steak very rarely, for this and a few other pregnancy reasons). I sat down took a few bites and headed out to the front room and walked the length from the laundry room door to the guest bathroom door back and forth shaking my hands like I wanted my finger nails off. We eventually came home. I put on my striped pajama pants and tried to lay down. At this point I started timing my contractions. I wanted no part of going to the hospital only to be sent home. My mom came down, and we got the doctor on the phone. It was time. I cried, kicked, told my mom I didn't want to go through with it anymore and screamed till they broke my water at the hospital and

gave me drugs and an epidural.

I slept fitfully till about 6 the next morning. The shifts were changing and I was panicking because I knew it was time but no one would come in to check me. I finally got their attention and within an hour the doctor arrived, and he was born. He held him up, said, "This kid ain't no pigmy," and I just gaped. Then I heard my dad say' "Is that hair red?" It surely was. I couldn't believe a 21 inch, 7 lb 11 oz boy with red hair came out of my basketball sized belly. He was gray and true to his nature, didn't even cry. They took he out and told me he were having some issues. It literally took three days before I knew he had a heart murmur. He was so sweet and never cried. After he ate we brought him home and it took a lot to get him mad.

He was always a happy boy and to this day has some fantastic outlooks even on his bad days. I hope to never take part in putting that light out. He is a ray of sunshine, almost always leaning towards too bright, but we couldn't be luckier to have him around.

Birthday. Suit.

His mom always told me that Chaz was too pretty to be a boy when he was born. I didn't believe her till my first boy was born. Chaz is pretty but in a masculine, sexy sort of way. I love this guy. At this moment on his birthday he is talking business on his cell phone while wiping the littlest Hatch bottom.

I told him this morning to take a look at what he has accomplished in his short 31 years. It is unbelievable. I admire his drive so much, as well as his uninhibited use of words- short, sweet, and honest, sometimes oh so too honest. He doesn't mix words. He works till he can't anymore and then he comes home and bathes kids and gets them into bed

He invited someone to our home to take the missionary lessons, something I have a phobia of doing.

I am always so proud to call him mine.

He is so loyal to those he loves and I am glad I am included in that circle.

Happy Birthday to Chaz!

Follow. The. Leader.

Nolan got a bit cut off because our big group was making an adolescent girl we snatched from the camp over very nervous with all our comments.

All our camp kids + Tucker

Glamis is something we talk about and look forward to, all year. It is so laid back and the kids can run free in the sand. Cash hardly steps off his four wheeler doing circles all day long. I lost my voice the minute we got there. I still don't have it back. I have a man voice right now. It's rather sexy.

Every year we go, some nice fellows from our camp volunteer to baby sit while others volunteer to lead us out (much too slowly for them) onto the precarious sand dunes. Every year I get more and more cautious. It's a funny thing. I was pretty much petrified the entire first half of our first ride out. I couldn't loosen my grip, I couldn't enjoy the ride, I couldn't relax even a tad. My whole body was sore the next day from that ride. I was so tense.

The next day when the men so kindly volunteered again, I was a little hesitant but hopped on. I enjoyed this ride much more.

I have learned to just watch the person in front of me and follow where and what they do, as long as I don't see them wreck. I have realized that if their bikes can handle it so can mine. I also am constantly checking with the leader in front.

I am becoming my mother. I am because I couldn't help but compare that with the gospel. Follow the leader.

I won't be lead astray.

No matter how scared I am, there is someone who has already gone before me.

I just have to follow those leaders and yes I will wreck or roll every once in a while but I can always get back on and truly enjoy the ride.

My mother is an angel sent from above. No really, there isn't any one else I would rather be like.

So this was all going through my head on that second ride. And that is when I watched Kellie gracefully fall over sideways on her four wheeler. I stopped mid hill and dive bombed off in hopes of showing my muscles and saving Kellies life, which if you know anything about the dunes, that is one thing you don't do. Kellie has a bruise. I was the one everyone waited for while I slowly had to roll backwards down hill and attempt to start my bike several times.

I thought I just might be a hero sacrificing my pride to make sure Kellie was alright. But then again I should have known she is a lot tougher than me and I can't start a four wheeler under pressure.
There is always good food made at the dunes. Chaz is the bomb Peach cobbler maker. There are always some good laughs and weird things happening. Our last night there, we were all talking around the campfire, when out of no where two dudes pop into our circle. The convo went something like this:

Dude 1: Hey do you all know where can find the nearest gas station? (While holding a twenty folded in half long ways between his pointer and middle finger out for all to see)

Us: Gas station? (the nearest gas is about thirty miles away)

Dude 1: Ya! We are gonna take the four wheeler to get some cigarettes cause his girlfriend took his and slapped him across the face! (referring to dude 2)

Dude 2: Does a mime show of getting slapped across the face.

Us: You're going to ride your four wheeler? The nearest gas station is about 30 miles to Brawley.

Dude 1: I mean we got nothing better to do. So three miles which way?

Us: No, thirty miles.

Dude 1: Oh *%^& we will take the truck.

Dude 2: another mime of agreement.

Flash the twenty a few more times and off they went. Together. On the four wheeler. I couldn't help but think how funny it would have been to send them on their way, down the high way, two dudes, on a four wheeler, reminiscent of Dumb and Dumber.