Thursday, April 28, 2011


Thursday morning.

That was when I would take real maternity pictures, I decided. So, last night, I did what I had to do: set my alarm for 6:00 am so I could have enough time to get ready before the shoot. Like most moderately-attractive women, I knew I'd need at least 2-3 hours of prep time to look the least like my natural self, but not look like a cyborg trying to blend in with the human race.

So, I did it. I woke up to my alarm at 6:00 this morning. But then I accidentally hit the not-snooze button and turned it off, so I didn't actually get up until 10:30. Didn't matter. We'll just shoot indoors. Keep it simple. The ensemble I decided on was a $12 maxi dress from Forever 21 and a cardigan I picked up at a little ole place called Deseret Industries.

We set up, with Sloan using my camera: an iPhone 4 with the flash on. Now, the manual focus can be a little tricky, but he's good, so I trusted him with the device. Test shot:

Perfect. Just the right amount of sexuality and carefree whimsy for maternity photos.
Also, this shot proved that we'd be able to easily capture the lumpiness of my butt, which was something I was worried wouldn't show up in the pictures.

Now it was time to get avant-garde. None of that typical happy, go-lucky crap. This shoot was about life. Real life. The sublime spectacle. The beautiful disaster. The amber is the color of your energy.

Forlorn and without shoes. Alone. Nietzsche was right.
On to the props portion of this event.  You would NOT believe the heights we had to go to capture these shots. Sloan and I had to really get into the right moods for each scenario, so we ended up going to the nearest train station to feel the energy of travelers with little caboodles. We don't really have any train stations, so we settled on the bus depot. After sitting on the benches for a while, we came back home with the right frame of mind.

What good is a photo without props?
I really wanted something for our progeny to look at and say, "Yes, that is my ancestor, Julia Rehder. Her last name, along with those in  her immediate family, also had that last name beginning with an R." *sigh* For the future generations.
No good, I tell ya.
We went pretty traditional with the plant and candle. However, since I'm not as flexible as I used to be, this was as close to the ground I could get while still holding my sexy facial expression.
No good at all.
And just to get the upper hand in my marital public image, I'm making good on the promise/threat to Sloan that, "If you take dumb pictures while I'm off looking for props, I will post them on the blog.

Stay classy, my little man.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Maternity Photos!!

Literally thousands of people have been asking me to post pictures of my embarrassing weight gain baby belly, but I knew that if I were going to ever take pictures and post them on my highly-trafficked blog, I had to put a lot of creativity into making me the joy of pregnancy look awesome!

Surprisingly, Utah County doesn't have that many pro/amateur photographers to choose from. Just kidding! There is actually a humiliating (yes, somehow it is humiliating) amount of people with heavy cameras who take pictures of babies in galvanized tubs, brides showing their non-white wedding shoes, and engaged couples sitting in abandoned trains. Sloan and I decided to call around and test run a few photographers by doing a themed shoot with each of them. We are both pretty dynamic people, and there are so many facets in our life that we want the photo shoot to reflect, that we thought we'd kill two birds with one stone by testing photogs and themes simultaneously!!!!

Shoot 1: Not many people know this, but Sloan and I love to dance ballet. Our photographer # 1 Braelynne loves dance too, so I told her to do whatever she could to capture our love of dance through the lens. She did great!! LOVE!!

I wanted our next shoot to be pure and simple. I wanted the baby to be the focus. Photog # 2 Brennaleeanne was so ready to make this moment in our lives special. It was truly a beautiful experience.

Even though we love to do things like have fondue parties and ride on tandem bikes, Sloan and I are pretty hardcore. We love bands like Atreyu and Avenged Sevenfold. We wear ill-fitting knit hats and ironic/obscene shirts from Hot Topic (LOVE their socks!!). Photographer #3 Brittanylynn really helped us show our no-nonsense side. Because I just loved how shoot #2 had turned out, I told Brittanylynn to go wild with the processing, and she really took some amazing risks. Photoshop goddess!!:

I wanted our final shoot to be pretty candid. Some of history's most beautiful photos have been shots that show a person in their true life, no posing, no nothing. So, photographer #4, Tacie-BreeAnne, simply followed me around for a day to capture me doing the things I love, the things I hate, and in some cases, just things.

The only sad thing about all of this is that, instead of helping us narrow things down, these sample shoots have just made the decision that much harder for Sloan and me. Ugh!!

Monday, April 18, 2011

Miracle Babay

This baby boy. THIS baby boy is the reason I no longer hate Britney Spears because they both have blonde hair and brown eyes and how could I possibly dislike anyone with blonde hair and brown eyes ever again after knowing Joshua David Moore? He is also the reason I stopped smoking the pipe...and shoplifting office supplies, eating saturated fat, and hitting Sloan with my high heels during arguments. Josh is the reason the Allies won WWII, the reason Tina Turner's legs are still so nice, the reason Hosni Mubarak stepped down peacefully. He is the reason I no longer feel a deep-seated desired to stomp on the Precious Moments figurines whenever I see them in the Hallmark Store.

He is also the reason I might vomit after watching online videos at work:

Friday, April 15, 2011

Think Tank

Now, you probably know by now that I'm a thinker. *taps noggin* I just think, like, constantly. Some people just have those sorts of brains, ones that are always working away on the intricacies of life. And it's the thinkers that have to really get things done in the world. Really, it's a curse, but called to serve, right?

When I rolled out of bed at two this afternoon, I put on my muumuu and got the mail. As I was sorting through it, I thought Why aren't I as ecstatic about an afternoon walk as the lady on the cover of Coldwater Creek's summer catalog? I have sensible slacks and pastel button down shirts. I could wear them if that's the secret. I own sandals that provide arch support while still appearing stylish. I mean, why sacrifice comfort for style? It doesn't have to be that way. *sigh* Just always thinking. I'm trying to break it down for you in a way you'll understand, because things can get pretty abstract in my mind. People say that's how Albert Einstein was, and I believe them, because why else would he have written all of those things on chalkboards? Only thinkers do that.

After that think session, I took a break and napped on the soft rug in our living room. When I woke up, I tried to vacuum the house, but then I thought harder and I'm pretty sure we don't own a vacuum. So then I sat on my bed for a while, yelping occasionally to see if I could feel the baby get startled. He must be like his dad, though, nerves of steel.

After all of that, I turned on my thinker again to come up with a blog post to write. Things got pretty meta. I thought, I read blogs that have cute pictures and boring words below the cute pictures. Those blogs get hundreds of followers who all comment on how fun and cool and pretty the author is. A shallow person might be jealous of their blogs, but I'm not. However, if I ever had the chance to talk to any of those blogs, you know what I would say? Your author may be pretty and nice and able to manage her time well, but you have occasional typos and you lack an intimate fan base of 31 people like me. Or like this guy who has dedicated his intellectual efforts to publish a useful and coherent story arc that has inspired nigh unto 40 people. 

Some thoughts take longer to resolve in my head than others, but my conclusions are always solid.

Thursday, April 7, 2011


Discussing baby names is incredibly weird and stressful. As Sloan and I have had merciless and potentially-abusive battles consisting of emotional blackmail and mockery discussions about what to name this kid (the kid who hates it when I wear a seatbelt because he KICKS AND KIX AND KIXXXXXXXXSSSSS when I buckle up), I've tried to mellow out a little bit. Actually, no, I haven't. I refuse to deal with a husband who is tripping and even, dare I say, trifling while I am just doing my best to be a mama grizzly bear matriarch person (term used with permission from Sarah Palin).

I mean, Shakespeare himself wrote "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. JK names are pretty important guys. I mean srsly what else would we call a rose? LOL."

Did I mention he named his son Hamnet? I feel like that's important to mention. This is a list that has been compiled of Sloan's actual recommendations along with my own.

Okay, so some of these are jokes (Edward? Seriously?) but this points to a problem bigger than incompatibility; that problem being Sloan. He actually thinks Condor is a good idea. W? T? F? And apparently Mandar "sounds strong." 

Now, for me, Kanye was sort of a wild card suggestion, meaning: I love the name, but it's a risk putting it out there since I don't think some kid from suburban Seattle (like Sloan) could ever appreciate the Yeezy tribute. Maybe I'll just save it for our future dog/cat/daughter.

Some people have had the AUDACITY to "help" by suggesting names to me. Excuse me, elderly woman sitting next to me at the doctor's office, don't act like you know me. You don't know my life. You think Michael is a good name? Well I think You'reSoOldICan'tEvenUghWhatever is a good name. Get on my level.

OH AND ANOTHER THING I've been reading on the internet that I should start getting mad at people who want to touch my stomach. Apparently, it's a reeeeeeal contemptible way for others to behave, "caring about my baby" and being "in awe at the creation of life." Let's not forget, strangers, that this is about me. Not you, not the baby, and not human interaction. So listen up, you teeming hordes: I will hit you with my large purse if you lunge at my incubation area with your diseased hands. And then I will stomp on your foot in just the right place like they showed me in that self-defense class to make you hop around and howl like a cartoon character.  Then the police will arrest you and send to you Guantanamo Bay. Touching my creepy, bulbous stomach is a privilege, not a right. I hate you.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Verily, Verily

Julia: *singing* Ice screeeeeeam. Ice screeeeeeeeam! I looooooove this stuff called ice screeeeeeeam.
Sloan: Do you like yours, baby?
Julia: BOY DO I!!!!
Sloan: Good. Here, let's sit on this bench, I need to talk to you. *serious face*  First of all, I want you to know that I love you and I think you're doing really great with this whole pregnancy thing.
Julia: I know right? What can I say? I'm easy-going!
Sloan: Yes, but-
Julia: Laaaaid back!
Sloan: Defini-
Julia: I'm like a really pretty girl version of Jack Johnson.
Sloan: Okay, time to open your ears, k honey?
Julia: *zips lip. locks it. throws away key*
Sloan: Good job. I want to talk to you about how you've been...acting lately. You've become really...just...awkward in public. I don't know if it's, like, a hormone thing or what, but-
Julia: *picks up key from the ground, unlocks lips*  Huh? *hurt face*
Sloan: *takes Julia's hand* You've been doing weird things. Like just a few minutes ago, while you were ordering your ice cream from that nice boy. You knocked all of the spoons over on accident. But instead of helping pick them up, you just kicked them everywhere and shouted "SPOON-NAMI!!!!!"
Julia: I was defusing the situation! AND I came up with that word right on the spot!!
Sloan: *sympathetic nod* Yes, it was so, so clever, sweetie. But when no one laughed, you just...said it again. Louder. And you kicked more spoons...Then you tried to high five that woman behind us in line? That was what some people would call an "inappropriate response."
Julia: *uncomfortable* Well, I'll try to make things copacetic.
Sloan: Yeah, also, you've used the word copacetic probably five to ten times a day lately, and only correctly about half of that time. Small things like that can make people feel a little weird around you.
Julia: *pretends to be on phone* Hello, operator? I'm sitting here with a reeeeeal dud right now! Could ya help me out?? *giggle* *elbow jab*
Sloan: See? See what I mean? That didn't really even make sense...people don't call an operator for those kind of things. The joke doesn't work.
Julia: Oh boy! Clean up on aisle five!
Sloan: Again. Wow, are you meaning to...? You know what, never mind. It's not about what you do around me, I'm just worried you're making people uncomfortable, and I know you'd never want that.
Julia: *stops eating ice cream* Excuse me? You think I make people uncomfortable? People LOVE ME!!! Need I remind you that I was voted Wittiest of Houston High  School's Class of 2004??? WITTIEST, SLOAN. You're the one that people don't like. You know why? Because you're creepy!! You creep people out! You're lucky I'm there to help others cope with your creepiness! I'm Jay and you're Silent Bob!!
Sloan: Okay, I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought you'd want to know something like this. I love you either way.
Julia: Ohhhh, so now I'm the bad guy!! You just loooove me even though I'm just a stick in the mud!!
Sloan: That doesn't mean awkward, it means-
Julia: SHUT UP! I'm out of here! In the five minutes you wasted telling me I was uncool, I just got, like fifteen texts from people who want to hang out with me right now! *stands up* So...if you'll drive me home, I'll be on my WAY. *slams car door*