Thursday, December 24, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
Somehow, fighting with your siblings came up at my knitting night this week and I had nothing to relate because my three sisters and I never fought.
In reality, I learned to fight really, really well. They were bigger than me and so if I was going to stand a fighting chance, I needed to win from across the room. I learned to use my words to make them cry before they could knock the air out of me. It is a skill that I have since improved. I can zero in on a person's weakness or insecurity in a matter of minutes and with my words strike a nerve. Like any skill it can be and has been used for good and for not so good purposes. I'm pretty sure I will be working on what comes out my mouth for the rest of my existence.
When nerves are raw and frayed it is easier to hit them without missing a mark. It is easier still when you just tell the truth. Lots of times, complete strangers open up to you because they feel like they can trust you even if they know they won't always like what you're going to say. For example- the many patients who ask me if there will be pain, or what dying looks like, what DNR really means, or confess their actual drug use.
Yes, it's gonna hurt.
Breathing is going to be hard.
If chest compressions are used, there will be broken ribs.
You don't have to tell me, but I'm going to do a physical assessment and the body doesn't lie.
And however unprofessional it may be, I have on occasion simply said, "This sucks. I'm sorry."
Sometimes I think I scare people. And other times I make them cry. Especially when it comes to infertility. Somehow I find myself around these women or they find me. In any case we meet, and even though virtually complete strangers I open my mouth and hit a nerve.
I know it hasn't been very long and I try and tell myself that, but to me it feels like I've waited my whole life to be a mom. That sounds dumb, doesn't it?
Me- Hold up. That's not dumb. You have and it sucks that you're not yet.
Enter the tearing up here.
Me- I'm so sorry.
Me- No it's not. It totally sucks.
Enter the tearing up here again.
Me- Honey, I don't say I'm sorry because I feel sorry for you, or I pity you. I'm truly sorry you have to go through this because I remember what it feels like and it totally sucks. And I know that there is nothing I or anyone else can say that will make it go away.
Enter the tearing up for the third time in two months here.
I say sucks, okay!?! And I'm not going to sugar coat it. I am rarely a sugarcoater. I will not be the person that tells you to have faith about it, or that it will get better, or anything else except that it sucks and I'm sorry. I should probably refine my approach, and use a little more discrepancy before letting my trap fly open. Like I said, I'm working on it. But I haven't been fired yet and I've found a new friend. That's got to count for something.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
The back of the Tums bottle says "Do not consume more than 15 in a 24 hour period." Who eats 15 Tums? That was last week. So what exactly would happen if I did eat 15 Tums?
Culprit? Chocolate. I have developed a puking, burning, I'm-having-a-heart-attack-and-going-to-die-allergic-type response to chocolate two weeks before Christmas. Nice.
I was not drunk on the road this morning. I dropped my pear. It might have been safer to let it just roll around the gas pedal than the approach I took to retrieve it.
The squirrel like hoarding of baby shoes has begun. I know they are completely, totally, and wholly unnecessary, but I love baby shoes.
I know babies are not dolls, but what else do you do with them for the first 8 weeks except dress them up?
My kid does better in heels than I do.
I have to wear both heels and nylons this week for my husband's work party where I get to flash my pearly whites, make small talk, and be nice to people I don't know. An occasion that makes me wish I drank even a little bit. Except I don't and I can't. Picture me walking in heels, with an altered center of gravity, and a little bit tipsy. A fabulous Christmas card.
Christmas card? What Christmas card?
Sunday, December 13, 2009
As is customary in Mormon culture, we take meals when you have a baby. I stood on the front porch in the rain waiting for a woman who had a baby a week ago to answer. She answered the door with her new little girl wrapped in a blanket. She was all wriggly and pink with chunky cheeks. And all of a sudden it hit me standing there in my scrubs and yellow rain boots. I almost melted into a puddle on her porch. A baby!
I came in the door and announced to my husband, "I want one of those!" And over his laptop screen he distractedly said, "Well, that's good because you're getting one."I'm getting one of those!
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Still, I totally loved CJane's post tonight. Considering that for two days in a row as soon as Scrunch was in bed, I was beyond ready for two Haagen-Dazs vanilla almond bars to smooth away the stress of the day. She's almost two you know. That's why I had two. And that is how you spell it. I have an old wrapper laying in front of me.
But tonight I fell asleep before she did and only groggily remember hearing her emphatic Aaaamen! to our nighttime prayer. My kid would be awesome in a lively Amen Sista! kind of testimony meeting. I woke up long after she's been in bed for several hours and kind of miss the kid. Although not so much 'Pary Poppins' for the thousandth time. Just watching her clog like a chimney sweep in shoes several sizes too big.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Why do we have to cut it down ourselves?
Why do we each consume an entire strudel and cider (or hot juice as Scrunch calls it)?
Why do we buy the biggest tree we think will fit in the family room only to discover once we're home that it will actually need to be trimmed by a foot and a half?
Why do we tolerate mom's stupid reindeer antlers?
Because we can. And because mom makes us.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
- Good golfer does not equate to good person, husband, and father. Why do we still glorify sports persona as heroes? They play a sport really, really well. Unless you know them, look up to them for that and nothing more. Same goes for any other celebrity. And if even half of it is true, look up to his wife as a money making genius. I feel bad for the kids, but hope she takes him for every cent she can get!
- My life has changed A LOT. I noticed this while caravaning to the thrift store with a friend. We took separate cars because there wasn't enough room for the car seats and anything else we might bring home. Costco for lunch as an outing and car seats. Weird.
- It's been a long, long time but I totally got checked out by two normal looking and not obviously creepy looking buddies at Costco while shopping alone Friday night. I was feeling pretty good about myself until I came around the aisle and they got a glimpse of me in profile and then from the front. Eyes practically bugged out of their heads! Costco on a Friday night and my bulging uterus. Totally weird. Told you life has changed.
- But you don't play the piano! Not yet. F. R.E.E. That spells free. Free piano for me, baby.
It is distressed and it is green. It is fate.And yes, those are the pictures of three totally check-out line check out worthy mamas from what was previously formally known as the IFC.
- For three days I have woken up at 3:58am, 4:02am, and 4:28am. That is how you find the good stuff on Craigslist. That is also how you spend hours reading reviews and doing Santa's research on things like play kitchens. Give me a model, I'll give you the specs.
- I hate, hate, hate, hate to pee in public restrooms. I would rather squat on the side of the road or behind a rock any day. Probably the loudest and scariest I have ever yelled at Scrunch (so far) was at the gas station in Baker when she insisted on going potty with me. Do NOT touch ANYTHING! Risking being arrested for indecent exposure might give me enough to write a complete and coherent post one of these days.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
"I think I just felt the baby."
"What does it feel like?"
"It feels like sort of a tickle on the inside."
The conversation then takes a bizarre and confusing turn.
I was totally confused, and then..."Um, babe...I said 'tickle' not 'pickle'."
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Mount Whitney in November, um no. Belize, New Zealand, or Paris- now we'll talk.
Friday, November 20, 2009
For centuries artistic scholars have debated the subject of their nakedness at great length.
Is it based on culture and a greater appreciation for a hefty broad? Something our Western skinny obsessed culture can't quite wrap it's head around.
The 'fat is fertile' scenario?
Is the experimentation with pigment and light?
And on and on. If you've got a good story you can BS your way through just about anything in art history. I tended to go with the 'experimentation with pigment and light' argument most often. I was wrong, and I hate to admit it. We are back to the 'fat is fertile' scenario and an overwhelming case of coincidence. My thesis- The models all happened to be 15 weeks pregnant. Their old clothes didn't fit, yet they hadn't popped out enough for maternity wear.
My baby bump popped out yesterday. I felt like I should document it somehow, but I'm not about posting baby bump pictures. One of these days I'll tell you why. It's nothing personal, I don't like ultrasound pictures either.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
"Make roni eeease!!!"
"I gots puppy shoes!!" Did you know she has puppy shoes? Well, then I guess you haven't talked to her in the last 96 hours because that has got to be the most repeated phrase at our house right now. "I gots puppy shoes!!"
"No ponies, thank you." Which is why her hair looks like Little Orphan Annie. I am picking my battles. This morning when I told her she could not watch Elmo until after her shower she told me, "Go wash dishes mama. I watch Elmo." Excuuuuse me? That's your first complete sentence?? Go washes dishes mama!!??? When I told John he said, "Well, she didn't hear that from me." Just to be sure he knew it too, I had him make roni eeeease for dinner.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Do you think Tom Brady is hot?
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Don't forget the stockings.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Every single day I am more and more amazed at just how much better God knows me than I know myself.
I cried when I saw the positive pregnancy test. And not in an over-joyed momentous let's frame this moment in our minds kind of way. In a please, please, please, please don't let me mis-carry this baby sort of way.
I called as soon as I could to get an order for labs to confirm, and then waited a few extra days to let the hormones build up. The results came back Friday that they were definitely positive. I called John at work as he was leaving from there to go hiking. At this point, I felt nothing. No symptoms. Absolutely nothing. Saturday Scrunch and I spent the day at home cleaning and hanging out. Sometime that afternoon I felt something. Cramping and spotting. My heart sank. I couldn't reach my husband. There was nothing I could do.
I sat on the couch reminding myself repeatedly not to stress. Stress could exacerbate the situation. Just relax. John will be home soon, though I'm not sure what he was going to be able to do about it. Thankfully, Scrunch went to bed early and I remained on the couch willing this baby to stay.
I finally got a hold of my husband on their drive back and told him to tell Aaron they'd need to give me a blessing when he dropped him off. Close to midnight and still in their grubby clothes, I received a blessing. I went to bed and the next morning was the first time I threw up. I have thrown up every day since.
Morning sickness is some women's physiological response to a rise in hormones. A biological consequence. For me, it has been a not so gentle reminder that I'm not the one in charge, that God has a sense of humor, and that yes, he's listening.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Is she engaged?
Friday, November 6, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
The lesson is on Hope.
I hope the lesson doesn't bite. No really, that was the advice I was given. Granted, it was three o'clock in the morning. If I'm up, why shouldn't He be up? So, I start telling him about my lesson and ask if he has any thoughts. After a long period of silence I shove him a little, "ANY THOUGHTS?"
"I hope it doesn't suck", he mumbles back.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
"Hi, this is the on-call nurse. Did you call the answering service?"
"Um, yes. My incision is open. Lots more open than yesterday. My sister thinks she can see my guts."
After a series of questions from myself, "You need to go to the emergency room."
"Do I have to?"
My day was awesome. How was yours?
Friday, October 23, 2009
The next time you hear of a couple that is in the process/or has adopted a baby (or any child) please do not use my family as an example of "this couple I knew that adopted and then she found out she was pregnant." It is a horribly insensitive comment to make and I as well as every other mom I know that has adopted has been on the receiving end of it. Not to mention- with all due respect, you are wrong. Statistically, less than ten percent of adoptive couples ever have bioligical or natural children. Not only that, but think of the connotation that it puts on adoption....
Oh how nice! That will do in the mean time. Till what you really want comes along.
That's just stupid.
Now, you may be a little puzzled as to why I am so flippin irritated by this this morning. I've heard it from waaaay too many people who have found out that I am pregnant. And you wanna know why it pisses me off? Because I have a daughter and she was adopted. She is becoming increasingly aware of what is said around her. I have had to learn to watch my mouth. You should too. You say something that makes her feel like less or not quite enough, and I will rip your arms off and beat you with them.
I did not get pregnant because we finally relaxed. I did not get pregnant because we adopted. We did not adopt until something else came along. You adopt to build a family. There is no doubt in my mind that Scrunch is meant to be part of this family. She, with all her traits (including curls) and special personality, could not have come through any other way but through adoption.
Someone near and dear to me gave the best response to finding out I was pregnant I've had when she said, "I've got so many goosebumps they're fighting for a place to land. Both your babies are miracles."
Thank you. That's exactly what we think.
And for the record, women (who themselves have never adopted) have often commented that adoption is "the easy way". Another not very nice thing to say. Got to tell ya. You're wrong there too. For as sick as I've been, I'd take puking any day of the week over a homestudy.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
It's been a week since I post last.
I have cut my hair. I spoke in church. I had the flu. I spread the flu around to everyone who had immediate contact with me the preceding 48 hours. I drove to and from Southern California so I could be sufficiently spoiled. I watched my dad bake me bread. I listened to two books.
I haven't blogged about any of it.
And my favorite moment all week?
Sitting on my parent's kitchen floor sipping apple juice when Scrunch climbed in my lap, grabbed my face in both hands, kissed my cheek and then asked, "you happy now?"
Monday, October 12, 2009
And the sun had gone to bed,
Up jumped the pumpkin,
And this is what he said:
I'm a dingle dangle pumpkin
With a flippy floppy hat.
I can shake my stem like this,
And shake my vine like that.
We go to the pumpkin patch not for pumpkins, but for the petting zoo. The best part was that she was talking to it like that was his head.
And to make straw bales. Trust me. It's straw. There was a great debate over straw vs. hay.
We'll be back next year. And the year after that. and after that. and after that. Until Scrunch outgrows the goat measuring stick. She can't wait, just look at her.
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