For a long time,  I've thought about writing a post on this topic because it  irritates me so much. Up until this point I have chosen not to  because I knew it would make a lot of people angry. But you know what I've had enough, I'm sick of the harassment and lies. These are my opinions if you don't like them then you are free to move along.  If you have something constructive to say then by all means post a comment. I however, am not filtering my comments as this is my blog and on my blog I make the rules. I will now include a happy picture but the rest is real honest you've been warned.

WHAT IS AN MLM?

Basically, it's where you sell a product to someone and you get a commission when they buy it. The multi-level part comes in when you recruit the person you sold something to and they sell the product to someone else and you get a commission off of everything they sell.

For those of you who don't know, I HATE MLM's.  Now let me first say I don't think all MLM'S are garbage. I'm sure there are some legitimate products and companies out there. Here's the problem though, when I make a statement like not all MLM'S are garbage.  I give any person selling in an MLM a loophole and all the people who participate in garbage MLM's step forward pat themselves on the back and say, "Ya, exactly we are totally legit."  And anything good about the industry get's lost in the commotion.

How do I know this, well I am probably contacted 2 times a week on my social media platforms about buying some product or another. I have openly stated my dislike for MLM's on social media by saying  things like...." I hate Lipsense, almost as much as I hate back squats....(just so you know that's a lot) Stop for the love, inviting me to your MLM sales groups. I am begging you!" And then I get like 20 supportive likes as if to say, "Ya, right there with you girl".  But you know what the laughable part is, half those people sell products for MLM's and that's when you realize that there can be no LOOPHOLES.

SO WHY DO I HATE MLM"S SO MUCH?
I've come up with my top 5 list. I figure it might be easier in the future to direct all unwanted sales pitches to this blog.  I've also been asked a lot, and I thought some of you might be interested to know that I do have reasons and I'm not just a grump who doesn't want to buy any of your crap.

1. BUILDING SOMEONE ELSE'S BRAND

I think one of the biggest reasons I hate MLM's is that you are building someone else's brand on the back of your family members, friends and one time acquaintances. You put your own money, time and effort in to line the pockets and grow the business for people higher up the chain than you.

Now maybe you could say, well any job where you work for someone else is like that. No, when you work for good companies they don't require you to buy in. Sure they might give you commissions if you sell well but they probably also give you health care and benefits, structure and support etc. To me, it's kind of like the analogy that my parents always used growing up. You could either rent a house and pay for something that will never be yours.  And as is the case with many a rental, fix things when they break because your landlord is a loser. Or you could buy the house put in all the same time and effort to keep it up but the money you pay towards it will go to something YOU own. I'm sure that analogy is flawed in one way or another but I think you get my point. Most direct sales companies require a small investment up front, but there are plenty of upsells along the way simply to have enough products to show potential customers. Unless you’re serious about putting in a 38 hour week, you can quickly end up with out of date products and no extra profits to cover them. As the saying goes "Build your own dreams or someone else will hire you to build theirs."

2. SATURATED MARKETS

When you sign up friends or family as distributors, you’re creating your own competition and the more people who get involved, the less chance mutual friends will know who to buy from. Unfortunately, this is also how you yourself make more money. MLM's doesn’t obey the laws of supply and demand.
 McDonald's won’t let franchise owners open up multiple locations on the same street unless there is sufficient demand. Otherwise, they would compete for few customers and go out of business.There are only so many people interested in buying and with multiple distributors in small areas, the best (or best known) salesperson will get the sale. So what essential is seen as "support" from your business, like the kind I mention in my first point is really competition. I think you can see the problem here.

3. CALLING YOURSELF A SMALL BUSINESS OWNER 

As a small business owner who's married to a small business owner, I find this insulting. MLM distributors do not have control.
You don't dictate product decisions, research and marketing, marketing restriction, rules, cost analysis or any other activity fundamental to owning a business. You don't do other common business owner type things like payroll, offer benefits, have a brick and mortar location, pay unemployment tax.

This past week Mr. Robinson took me to the grand opening of the new Eccles Theater in downtown. Gussied up, in our black tie formal wear we had an evening of lovely performances. One song, sung by Brian Stokes Mitchell struck such a chord with me that I have found myself pondering with great assurance on it's message. The song, as I'm sure you to are now wondering was On the Wheels of  a Dream from Ragtime. It's a show stopper for sure, the goose bumps, hair standing on end kind.

Before you continue if you've never heard it or just need a refresher here it is sung by the stunning Audra McDonald and of course Brian Stokes Mitchell.


Ragtime is set at the turn of the 20th century. It captures the compelling American experience through three diverse families in pursuit of the American dream. It touches on inherent American realities prevalent in a melting pot such as America. Experiences of wealth and poverty, freedom and prejudice, hope and despair. Over the course of the show, the worlds of White, Immigrant and African Americans intertwine as they discover the surprising interconnections of the human heart, the limitations of justice and the unsettling consequences when dreams are permanently deferred.
The poignancy of it's topics were not lost on me especially in relation to our current political election and recent social disquietude over race and equality.

Perhaps you've heard that saying you can't change a man... a statement I believe to be true. Over the years however I started to notice Mr. Robinsons very unique ability to do just that, change. It is, I hate to admit it not one of my strongest attributes but it is quite possibly one of the very things I love most about Mr. Robinson.
There are so many ingredients in the preverbrial recipe of a good marriage. Some of which can all to easily go a miss, turning something sweet into something bitter and tasteless. In most cases our pitfalls have come from selfishness as I'm sure is the case for most marriages. Which is why Mr. Robinson's capacity to about-face was selected as The pinnacle Day 11 of Reasons Why I love Mr. Robinson.
The building of something new can often be uncomfortable, scary and difficult.  This undoubtedly is why we as humans so adamantly rebuff the experience and instead trudge forward on the same worn path hoping for greener pastures.
Some time ago I taped a tiny seed to a set of verses found in Alma. The verses compare the word faith to a seed. Recently I came across an article using the phrase "seeds of change" and it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps a compairison of the word change rather than faith might prove enlightening for those of us stubborn worn path trudgers. The verses describe the seed which in our case we'll call the seed of change to "SWELL within your our breast."

"It beginneth to ENLARGEN my soul;
yea it beginneth to ENLIGHTEN my understanding,
yea it beginneth to be DELICIOUS to me."

There's a quote somewhere floating on the internet that says " When things are falling apart they may be falling into place. When we stoping using the excuses of fear and redirect our focus from the difficult and the uncomfortable suddenly change can give way to an enlarging of your soul, and enlightenment of understanding and just as the quotes says "a falling into place" where things become "delicious to me."

I've only seen the Princess Bride once and to be honest it never struck a cord with me but I heard a recent interview from the actor who plays Inigo Montoya that I found to be so very profound specifically on the subject of change.

It's true according to google, that I fit within the birth years of a millennial. Born between 1982 and sometime in the early 2000’s. It might also be true that millennials are misunderstood and have an important role to play in society. The REAL truth probably lies somewhere in the middle but for this story please refer to the title.


As many of you know I own a design business some of you may or may not know I also help Blake run a lot of the behind the scenes operations for Evolve. I have to give you a little back story so that the rest of the story makes sense. Recently Evolve has been going through a lot of big changes and we have spent a lot of time crafting a well defined brand and the delivery of a great service. I design our graphics, write our copy, basically I add the pretty stuff. As to not make this story unnecessary long I'll just tell you that because our price point is higher than other gyms we have been working on some ideas to thank our members. This leads us to CRUDE.

Never heard of them? Crude, according to their website is an all-natural skincare line that nourishes, supplements, & supports your skin's natural defensive and regenerative processes. Made by hand in SLC.

Because we are a home grown business we like to support other local business were we can. Crude interested me first and foremost because they were local, second because I had heard really good things about their product and third I liked the packaging. I'm a designer what can I say?

So I searched out a way to contact Crude. Crude does not have a phone number at least not one that I could find. They also didn't list a street address, the only means of communication with them was through email. I like email,  it has a time and a place. In fact I use it all the time but if I have the opportunity to talk with someone or better yet see them face to face I always go that route. So when I stumbled upon their address from an old City Home Collective post I decided that the best idea was to take a little field trip.

I didn't dress up fancy for the occasion. For a company that seems to pride themselves on being natural I felt like the natural nicely put together version of me would do just fine. I was super excited to talk with Crude about their products and Penn was excited for a stroller ride so it was a win win.
As we approached the store front it became clear that this was more of a box and ship product type situation but I didn't need fancy product shelves just and ear to chat about a wholesale account.

As I opened the door to the shop I was greeted by two set of annoyed and unfriendly eyes. I cheerfully brushed the negative vibes off and proceeded with my quest for a wholesale account.

Tigan: Hi, I just had a couple of questions about your products?
The Two women sitting at the table in the center of the room stared at me in silence, then."Yes?"(said with distaste)
Tigan: "Uh, ok my husband and I own a local gym (insert description of our business here) I am really interested in using your products in our thank you swag bags for our members and am wondering if you offer wholesale accounts?"
Two Women: (annoyed) "We just discontinued our wholesale accounts."
Tigan: "Oh, ok (waiting for further information like, but you can purchase our product here or we love local business or something but no other words are spoken) but you do sell product, right?"
Two Women: "Only Online"

I promise I can not make this stuff up. One of the women was the owner/founder and I don't know who the other women was.

The owner then proceeded to tell me they wouldn't be interested in working with us and while they didn't say I couldn't by their product online it was inferred.
I wanted  to  give their rudeness the benefit of the doubt as perhaps they had just thought I was looking for free samples but the second women asked about our swag bags in more detail and I explained they were not a one time thing but rather an every member who trains at Evolve gets one, an ongoing type of thing and I was willing to pay for their products.

At this point I was getting irritated. I'd dragged my busy self down their because this company seemed like a great fit for our swag bags but was to good for a phone number and in return had been utterly back handed with their hoity-toity, pretentious,  hipster rudeness.

Fine you want play that snobbish game, it was time to bring in the big guns. We may be a gym, which I admit generally conjures up ideas of lug heads, and sweaty industrial buildings or cheap, no commitment, bargain chain gyms. None of which are really bad but also none of which describe Evolve. So I pulled out the business card.


At which point the mood in the room changed slightly.
Women: "Evolve Fitness, this is really nice" (she proceeds to hand it to the owner, she glaces at it and scoffs)

Now I was mad not only because they had been so utterly rude but because our well designed business card suddenly made us seem less lame, but only a little. It seriously took all I had not to let those women have piece of my mind. I thanked them for literally nothing and left.

So here's how this breaks down. I don't normally post negative interactions with business most of the time I think the bad experiences could be due to a slew of possibilities but this experience was extra horrible and to be honest Crude seems to spend a lot of effort perfecting their online presence. They flood their instagram account with "REAL" girls in floppy hats and matte lipstick, positive skin nurturing testimonials, and a belief that natural, pure, simple and botanical ingredients can change your skin. Né YOUR LIFE.


Well Ladies you can take your euphuistic instagram account and pompous demeaning attitudes and suck it because in the real world customer service matters. The online world is great and you can make a lot of money there. But the people, the real kind on the other side of the screen. You know the human race, we are the ones buying your product and when you treat us like crap it's only fitting that we put you on blast the only way you seem to understand, ONLINE.  Why don't you filter this and see how rose colored you can make it. By the way from one millennial to the other, not that it matters, at all but we have more followers than you.

2015 was a difficult year for us. Never before have I felt like our number had been pulled and gosh was the universe out to get us. The range of emotions vast, betrayal, stress and  bazaar turn of events still leave me standing at the sidelines watching the dust settle on 2015 in utter disbelief.  I'm sure we weren't the only ones and I know for a fact that there are so many less fortunate then us who continue to live in haunted darkness. I know we are blessed. I know that the lord guided our lives in ways I don't yet understand but I'm human and hard is well, just hard, no matter your circumstances.

The bitter salt of tears pierce souls a like. Hardship is no respecter of persons it's a consequence of living.  For these truths, these laws of the universe, I'm grateful. Why you ask? Because in those quite moments when you feel as though you can't get up, That you've tried as hard as you can, that the world is out to get you, you have a choice. Sure as the saying goes you could dust yourself off and get back up again but you and I both know sometimes it's just not that easy. Isn't that the beauty of a trial? Most of us know the next step but are we willing to take it? The silence at the bottom can be deafening, but the opportunities it grants us, growth, change, power, humility, perspective, faith. That's the stuff that makes ordinary people into extraordinary people.  That's the rare beauty of a trial.

If I clear away the rubble I can once again see the privileges and blessings we were afforded This year. Though sometimes difficult to distinguish the list as I have pondered about it has grown to number in the hundreds and probability if I had a more affluent vocabulary the thousands.
In 2016 I want more, don't we all? Don't worry the selfishness of that statement isn't as bad as it sounds. Sure I'd like to make more money, it isn't all bad in fact it paid for the ingredients that created this delightful Christmas tradition experience.

I' d like it less for the material things and more for the security of my family and the ability to help them pursue their dreams. Though I'd be lying if I didn't say Chanel speaks to me and ya I do really want a pony.
In truth the statement is a little less WANT more and a whole lot BE more. The beginning of a New Year gives each of us a chance to start anew and refocus our efforts, goals, and attitudes on bettering ourselves. Shouldn't we be doing this year round? Sure but don't beat yourself up over it just make the effort and begin to change.
I read a talk recently by Elder Holland that so profoundly struck a cord with my I decided to base my Relief Society Lesson around it. I'd like to share a few of those thoughts with you.

Remember Lot's Wife:
For those of you that don't know the biblical tale the original story comes to us out of the days of Sodom and Gomorrah. The Lord basically has taken all the wickedness he can stand and he tells Lot and his family to flee as the cities are going to be destroyed. With a little less than immediate obedience and more than a little negotiation, Lot and his family leave town. Upon daybreak the morning following their escape the scriptures tell us that the lord overthrew the cities and as that Lot and his family " Look not behind thee" and what happens Lot's wife looks back and was turned into a pillar of salt.

One of the many wonderful somethings of history is to teach us the lessons of life it gives us the ability to learn from the past. "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it"- George Santayana

So what's the big deal. If history is so important. What did Lot's wife do that was so wrong?

"As something of a student of history, I have thought about that and offer this as a partial answer. Apparently what was wrong with Lot’s wife was that she wasn’t just looking back; in her heart she wanted to go back. It would appear that even before they were past the city limits, she was already missing what Sodom and Gomorrah had offered her.

So it isn’t just that she looked back; she looked back longingly. In short, her attachment to the past outweighed her confidence in the future."
What keeps us from progressing? Why do we struggle to move past old experiences even when we know they are holding us back from moving forward with confidence?


We need to ask ourselves the difficult questions. What do I need to change? How can I improve? What weakness needs strengthening?
"I plead with you not to dwell on days now gone, nor to yearn vainly for yesterdays, however good those yesterdays may have been. The past is to be learned from but not lived in. We look back to claim the embers from glowing experiences but not the ashes. And when we have learned what we need to learn and have brought with us the best that we have experienced, then we look ahead, we remember that faith is always pointed toward the future. Faith always has to do with blessings and truths and events that will yet be efficacious in our lives."
Lot's wife doubted the Lord’s ability to give her something better than what she already had. "To yearn to go back to a world that cannot be lived in now; to be perennially dissatisfied with present circumstances and have only dismal views of the future; to miss the here-and-now-and-tomorrow because we are so trapped in the there-and-then-and-yesterday—these are some of the sins, if we may call them that, of Lot’s wife"
"We had absolutely no money. Zero. For a variety of reasons, neither of our families was able to help finance our education. We were both working too many hours trying to stay afloat financially, but we had no other choice"
One fall day—I think it was in the first semester after our marriage in 1963. We stopped and wondered what we had gotten ourselves into. Life that day seemed so overwhelming. I turned to Pat and said something like this: “Honey, should we give up? I can get a good job and carve out a good living for us. I can do some things. I’ll be okay without a degree. Should we stop trying to tackle what right now seems so difficult to face?”
Then my beloved little bride did what she has done for 45 years since then. She grabbed me by the lapels and said, “We are not going back. We are not going home. The future holds everything for us.”
She stood there in the sunlight that day and gave me a real talk. It was a living demonstration of faith. It was “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen".

A big thanks to my brother Carter for this video. If you're in need of something heartfelt this holiday season or a delightful birthday video or a video for nothing special in particular,  check his company out. Anthracite Studios. He pretty much awesome.

**🎃🎃🎃  UPDATE  🎃🎃🎃**

You can now purchase a printable flat mask. Talk about an easy button.

PURCHASE PRINTABLE MASKS ON ETSY

🎃🎃🎃***🎃🎃🎃***🎃🎃🎃***🎃🎃🎃

This year however was special because it was baby Penn's 1st and probably the only year he'll let me dress him up as an adorable inanimate object. We went through a couple of ideas, Poppi, Olive and a can of spinach, Squints, Wendy Peppercorn, and the Beast, and then a couple months back while searching the web for ideas I came across this delightful costume.

It was perfect! And what goes better with spaghetti than Lady and the Tramp.  I pitched the idea to the hubby who was on the Poppi (fitness buff) bandwagon and he was less than enthused. I had to agree the idea of grownups dressing up like fluffy dog cartoons sounded dumb but the adorableness of Penn being spaghetti was too hard to pass up so I set to work brainstorming some ideas to take cutesie cartoon dogs to human adults tastefully.

I wasn't interested in:
-Fur
-Bodysuits
-Tails
-Face paint

Then I stumbled upon an Etsy listing for a leather owl mask and I thought by George it's perfect. But the leather animal masks weren't cheap coming in at around $100 bucks a pop. I also knew that a custom inquiry would run even steeper, so I sunk into a pit of despair...

As I usually do, I get myself into something I want but can't afford and decide I probably have the skills to make that. So I YouTubed leather mask making. The results were slim but I was able to decipher the basic idea.

Wet leather is moldable.

Here's what I did:

Measured out our facial dimensions, eyes, space from forehead to nose etc. and I came up with these templates.

LADY

The blue lines indicated the measurements that matched up with the points on my face. Ex. sides of nose.

 TRAMP

Then I cut these templates out of 6oz leather with an Exacto knife. I ran the blade gently through the leather on the details as to not cut all the way through.

The molding of leather is actually pretty easy. I wet the leather and used a cheap face mask as a form. I used the form to get a basic shape and the blow dryer to set it. then I would just mold, test (on my face) blow dry until I had formed the mask into the shape I wanted. 

 Then it was just a matter of paint and a few details (eyelashes, nose)


And Voila
 For the rest of the costume I bought clothes I would wear again in the colors of Lady and the same for Mr. Robinson's Tramp

You can purchase Lady's skirt HERE.

You know that conversation you have with your parents and they tell you where babies really come from. You know the one, where if your a girl you realize that babies don't come out of tummies but rather the lady bits. That a watermelon sized object is going to pop out a whole the size of a cutie orange and because you're really special you'll get an audience of strangers to witness this master piece. Ya, I think that's the day I decided I was never going to have kids.

Fast forward a good 17 years 8 of which were spent married to Mr. Robinson and we find ourselves in our current predicament. Somehow along the way whether we call it blinded by love or stupidity I FORGOT about the watermelon and the orange and the pain and the lady bits on parade and found myself with child. That makes it sound kind of biblical, heck even monumental. I'm keeping it in this was defiantly noteworthy and I'm writing it down so that's basically the same thing.

As we walked home that bright and warm afternoon in March I casually joked with Mr. Robinson that I had just finished the last remaining item on my "Before Baby"check list. Teach Relief Society lesson, *check* and that I fully intended to spend the last week before D-day relaxing in PJs. He smiled and chuckled softly to himself.
After lunch I snuggled down for a small afternoon nap while Mr. Robinson busied himself around the house preparing for an unexpected meeting. At 1:00 he kissed me on the cheek, told me he'd be back in an hour and a half and hurried out the door. At about 1:30 I started feeling kinda crummy. Crummy enough to text Mr. Robinson at 2:00 the follow before the completion of his meeting...."Can you come home? I'm having some pretty weird sporadic pains but some are hurting crazy bad." Yes, my texts are always this poetic. He called immediately and told me he was on his way.

After a brief discussion we decided to time my crummy, sporadic, hurting crazy bad pains. Emphasis on the word sporadic because despite our best efforts and Mr. Robinsons timing skills we couldn't find any rhyme or reason to the madness. So after a Google search on the definition of Braxton Hicks,  a conversation about my need to wash and curl my hair if this got serious (because nobody wants to look homeless when your having a baby) we put in movie.

 At about 5 or 6 the crummy pains started picking up speed with a little more regularity. We called our Doula seeking some advice she told us to keep a watch full eye and call her back in an hour. It was at this point that Mr. Robinson told me it might be time to wash my hair. so between the movie, Mr Robinson's multi-tasking ability of timing, holding a mirror/my curling iron while I pushed though my crummy sporadic pain we somehow made it though another hour. We called the Doula and she said she would join us when we felt ready. I was READY.

While we waited for the Doula's arrival we made sure to cover all the bases. So we called the midwife who insisted on talking to me. By this point the crummy sporadic pain had morphed into a furious beast and I was splayed with my puke bowl on all fours on the ground but hey my hair was curled.

My midwife was out of town and her replacement proceeded to test me with a burage of questions. "What baby is this? "1" "How far apart are the contracts?" "When did they start?" "5 minutes at 2:00." Sweat started to prick up at the edges of my hairline. I ran my fingers over my face in a fit of exasperation as I braced for another crummy sporadic pain. "Are you in very much pain? Now I'm grumpy. For heaven sakes women yes, yes I am in pain?" "On a scale from 1-10."  Ahhh, breathing heavily holding back the urge to call her something mean "10, 10!!!!" "I think you still have a long while hang in there." Click.

Somewhere in between the pain and midwife conversation our Doula had arrived. She went right to work asking me where I was most uncomfortable  and trying to ease some of my back labor with a few tricks that proved helpful but provided short lived relief and ended with me in the bath tub saying that I felt the need to push.

After much debate between Mr. Robinson, the Doula and mostly me because I was truly worried this really wasn't labor and after dragging me to the hospital the staff would all look at the dumb newbie with pity and send her home, I agreed to get out of the tub and dawned my gray and pink floral night gown sans underwear (It was very freeing) and took the longest (shortest... less than 5 minutes) ride from H. E. double hockey sticks to the hospital. I kept thinking to myself this must have been what it felt like in a covered wagon. Thank you lord for allowing me to be a modern day women.

In the commotion from the car to the wheel chair to the hospital Mr. Robinson forgot to give the valet the keys and dropped our birthplan out of our bag and left it on the back seat. Our Doula had told me a good way to push through contractions was to moan long and low. When She told me this I had laughed and said to myself there was no way in Hell I was going to be loudly moaning down the halls of the hospital. Never say NEVER.

As we raced to labor and delivery, wheel chair a blaze gray and pink floral night gown billowing in the breeze and I pantieless moaning to beat the band I kept thinking to myself if I am only at a 2 Just kill me now.

By this time we had reached our deluxe natural mama sweet complete with jetted tub. They popped me on the bed checked my current progression and proclaimed I was at an 8! (cue the choir of angels).

For the next hour I pushed. I pushed through a nine, bit Mr Robinson 5 times, told the nurse she was mean for putting the monitors on my tummy during a contraction, had my water break on Mr. Robinson's leg and kept wondering to myself why in all the movies does it only take 3 pushes to have to baby come out. Told Mr. Robinson I wanted to die, that I couldn't do it. Stuck my naked bottom dollar in the air with no shame and Then we hit 9 and a half and everyone started getting worried.

My contraction which for 80% of my labor had been in my back switched to back labor coupling contractions which meant I was no long getting a break in between cycles and one contraction rolled right into the next with a constant urge to bear down. The midwife kept say there's a lip on your cervix and we can't get the babies head through. Every time you push we move it but when you stop the baby falls back down. For the next 4 and a half hours I pushed and  pushed but no baby. So we asked the dreaded question. What are our options? With a heavy sigh the midwife laid it all out.
1.Keep pushing, hopefully the lip will dissolve.
2. Baby goes into distress and we have to get a c section or
3.You get an epidural.
Everyone went quite.... And then I sat up on the bed (this is Blake's favorite part) had a come to Jesus meeting with myself pointed at the nurse and said, ladies get the man with the needle!

You know how I said the car ride to the hospital was the longest 5 minutes of my life. I take it back waiting for the anesthesiologist was the longest 5 minutes of my life. He told me to hold perfectly still. So I boar down with all my might and he stuck me with my drug of choice and everything went quiet. My bodies ferocious quaking slowly began to ease. My mind became clear and as the heavens parted I looked up and said to the man in scrubs. "So that's why they pay you the big bucks"

Then we slept for one glorious hour. Mr Robinson on his tiny hospital sofa and me with my giant numb elephant legs. We slept until the nurse woke me to, say my contractions had slowed and because of the babies position we needed stronger contractions to turn and push him into the birth canal. Her solution potocin. Ugh, I'd given into the epidermal no, no potocin. She agreed to give me a half an hour longer to see if my contraction would pick back up but then we would need to make some decisions.

My half an hour came and went with no luck and then baby Penn started to get grumpy so they put me on oxygen and gave me 2 options pitocin or c section. I took the pitocin. They gradually increased the dose until the nurse came in with a worried look to say the babies heart rate had dropped again but that she was going to check me and see where I was at. I had finally reach 10 centimeters a crazy 2 and a half hours post epidural. At this point I was feeling good about my decision to get the drugs. However the baby was still in the wrong possession but I was completely dilated so the midwife agreed to call a doctor to try and turn the baby while I pushed.

The next 6 hours were a flurry of pushing and hands internally trying to turn baby into the correct position with no luck.That's when they discovered I had an abnormality of tissue blocking the babies exit out of the birth canal. They asked me if I had know it was there.  I remember thinking you have to be kidding me why am I paying all of you professionals money. You've been poking around down there for nine months why didn't you notice my abnormality. That's when Mr. Robinson proudly announced that he knew it was there. I laughed.

After a brief discussion between the higher ups they decided it would have to be removed in order for baby to come out. Since I couldn't feel a dang thing I was pleasantly optimistic about the minor surgery. And was feeling extra good at this point about my decision to get the drugs. Mr. Robinson on the other hand was more coherent and began looking rather pale after the doctor called for extra help to "stop the bleeding"

It was at about this time 7:00 AM that we had a shift change and our room went from one nurse to six, one midwife to 2 and then they called in a specialist to try and suction cup baby out.

 As the doctor got everything ready I asked if we were still going to have to have a c section his response was that this baby needed to come out now. My Doula leaned over and told me that the situation was serious and that the doctor would need to use any means necessary to get the baby out. This meant an episiotomy . Truthfully our birth plan despite our best efforts had just been chipped away at piece by piece I was tired and out of it so I simply nodded my head in understanding.

The doctor told me he needed a good push. I asked if the suction cup would fall off before my babies head popped off ( I told you I was out of it) he laughed and reassured me it would. He pulled, I pushed. Mr. Robinson coached with a chorus of positive reinforcement. The suction cup popped off babies head but it was enough and out he came. 7:31 AM March 24, 2014, 6pounds 2 ounces, 19.9 inches long.





Mr. Robinson likes to tells me baby Penn looked like a purple frog when he came out which makes me giggle. All I can remember is his expression. It went from worry to confusion to wonder to pure joy. That's the part I like to remember most. I thought I'd regret my decision to get the epidural but I don't somewhere near the end of it all I asked my Doula how I would have dealt with all the unforeseen complications. (painful complication) she said we would have had to use a few coping techniques. So, ya I'm happy I got the drugs. I'm super glad we selected our delivery team carefully. I truly believe without there willingness to discuss my concerns and possible options our birth would have ended differently. My midwife told me that next time I need to be really close to a hospital because I have a high pain tolerance and I might not make it next time. That made me feel good. I guess the only thing I'm kind of bummed about is I never got to experience the good part of natural labor. You know that part where the baby comes out and you get that rush of feel good hormones that make it all worth it. But hey I guess there's always next time. *wink wink*

Here's how we told my mom, to say she was excited might be the understatement of the century. However I guess when you have a daughter that's been telling you for years (8) and even the ones before she got hitched she was never going to have kids you get a reaction like this.  We decided to tell her on her birthday. You also get a lovely excerpt of how very un-huggie I am.



xoxo,
Tigan & Blake

I've been debating back and forth about weather or not I should share this part of my life with the world but inevitably I decided it might be helpful to someone out there so here it is. (Be warned this will be a series of slightly graphic posts) probably stretching over a year or so. If you'd like to follow my journey to hairless-ness  check back with the tag marked LASER HAIR REMOVAL and read on my friends.

If you don't know me or you haven't seen pictures of me then I should tell you I have dark hair and very fair skin. Apparently this makes me a great candidate for laser hair removal.


Whenever the subject of body hair comes up in conversation with my family my Mom likes to tell this VERY endearing story about me. She told it to my Hubby when we were dating. It goes like this... When you were born you had the most beautiful abundance of black hair on your head..... and all over you body, you kinda looked like a monkey it was soooo cute. At this point in the story I have slunk off to die in a hole somewhere. Thankfully I grew outta the monkey hair stage, sorta.

 It's true I still have thick dark hair on my noggin' but I've also got it in places where thick and dark just plain stink. For reference I started growing arm pit hair in the 2nd grade. I still remember the shirt I was wearing, blue button up baseball-T with multi-colored stripes, short sleeves. Apparently short enough for my Mom to pull me into the bathroom and inform me that it was time to start shaving the pits. Hopefully all of this information has lead you to the same conclusion. I am an excellent, nay PRIME candidate for laser hair removal.

DO YOUR HOMEWORK:
As you might of guessed I've been pondering on LHR for some time now. About a year or so ago I did one of those $99 dollar LHR Groupons. The kind were you pick one of the predetermined areas and you get 5 treatments. I don't think this is the best course for LHR here's why.

Since I could only pick one area I picked the one I LOATH shaving the most, the bikini line.  It took me forever to get an appointment since they sold about a thousand or so Groupons. The office and staff were nice enough, the receptionist asked which area, I told her bikini line and they lead me back to the room. THERE WAS NO CONSULTATION (first mistake). The aesthetician  (second mistake) gave me some disposable panties and cool sunglasses and  assured me it wouldn't be that painful and that it would take just 10 mins.  She handed me a nossel that shot cool air and told me that if I felt any discomfort to point it at the area. I shaved before the appointment as I had been instructed. The technician moved along the area but after a while I began to notice that if we continued on this course a vast amount of hair would not meet it's demise, concerned I piped up, "so where does the bikini line extend to?" I have provided an illustration as to her response. (third mistake)
Yellow is my understanding of the Bikini Line the black circles are what this particular establishment considered Bikini line. Now as mentioned before I am particularly hairy so keep this in mind when I say this didn't work for me but it might be perfect for you. In conclusion, she was right it didn't really hurt. The hair in the areas she did laser fell out about a week later and seemed to me to grow in even thicker a month later. I did not return for further appointments.

INFO TO KNOW:
It takes more than one appointment to see results. (if you are thinking that I didn't give them a fair shake you are technically correct I chose not to continue because I felt that the "bikini line" was not comprehensive enough for me and I'm not really into erratic baldness)

Here's what I learned.

- Get a consult so you understand the area that the LHR covers. Don't be surprised.
- There are different types of lasers

The ND: YAG Laser: The YAG laser is the newest laser hair removal system on the market. With its longer wavelength, it is specifically designed to treat those patients with darker skin types; including tanned skin. With is large spot size and fast repetition rate, it is effective for hair removal on those with darker skin tones. (ELASE, IDEAL IMAGE)