The wind is keeping me awake. It's really whooping it up out there. As Scrunch so helpfully hissed to her younger brother over the dinner table, "It sounds like ghosts."

Greeaaaat. Thank you Scrunch.

"But only nice ghosts." I offered. Was that answer really going to work? It seemed to and thankfully, for once, Porkchop completely ignored his sister. Juju, however, picked up on it and asked, "Whas dat?" about forty seven times.

I got even with her after dinner when I cut a hole in the middle of what I did not know was a fleece blanket she even knew existed. "Mo-om!"

"Why'd you do that?! That was one of my favorites!"

Oh, really? Since when? Well, I'm the mom and it's cold, and I have to go outside in the dark with the ghosts. I only thought that though.

"Well, sorry kiddo. I'm the Mom and had to make an executive decision."

"What's executive?"

Hand smack to the forehead.

"Nevermind."

Gosh. Maybe my husband is right. Maybe I AM cranky. (For the record, "Gosh, honey you're probably right" is NOT how the conversation went down when it was first suggested.) I offered a list of pathetic (but still true!) reasons as to my recent irritability. Usually reasonable and understanding, he mostly didn't get my number one offered (and kind of lame) excuse. Maybe you will? Or the Internet? The internets have a way of understanding all sorts of crazy. Or least I will get it off my chest and be able to lay down and go back to sleep.

Yeah. So. I'm pregnant. Having been a staunch believer in 'Do not announce anything until in your second trimester', I feel like a traitor to my camp. Buy you guys, I need to sleep.Plus, I say something when I'm not anymore so what the hell?

This not so recent knowledge weighs on me daily and grates on my last nerve. This was not planned or intentional. Almost ironic (is this the correct use of that word?) that I taught and even helped write published material on Natural Family Planning for a state Health Department. Off the record I was known to say that, "If you're doing it, you're planning it." Thank you, thank you. Add that to the list of things I've said that have come back to bite me in the...So yeah. This was less than planned. And it is good. And I will be happy.... If I get a baby out of it. Ok, there. I know that is wicked and selfish, but jeez! I think I handled the last two miscarriages really well. And I promptly filled up my life with all sorts of distractions (and baby animals). No joke. I have a bottle calf right now. But we're reaching capacity here, folks. I am reaching my limits. God would not let me have three miscarriages in six months, would he? Not after everything? I mean, "Come on!" as Scrunch has been known to say.

But, oh yes. Yes He would. And He might. Because I know God has very little to do with it. Lest you think me sacrilegious, let me explain. There are natural consequences and events we are subject to due to our mortality and then there are Godly interventions. And how the two intersect in my life, and others, remains still a mystery to me. A giant, fat fatty of a mystery of epic proportions, but a mystery none the less.

So there it is. I think about it when I wake up, when I go (or don't go) to sleep, and every time I pee I think, "Please don't let there be blood. Please don't let there be blood." When Juju gives me a famous squeeze hug I sometimes think, "Oh, good. My boobs are still sore." When I slowly haul my exhausted and should be in better shape and used to it by now butt up the hill from watering my boy goats I think, "What's wrong with me? Why am I so tired?...Oh. yeah." My skin is crazy itchy from the additional hormones I'm taking, I sometimes feel like I want to jump out of my skin, and I AM CRANKY. OK!? I am looking forward to Christmas not because of the merriness of the holiday but because by then I will be well into my second trimester and the chances of miscarriages are drastically statistically reduced. P.S. Statistics don't mean crap when it comes to babies coming to and from this planet, but there you go.

On Sunday I was set apart for our callings as Stake Spanish Group Specialists. Whatever that means. (It means we get to work with the Spanish group, I teach Sunday School in Spanish, we attend a different ward, but my kids get Primary in English still. Score!.) Between Juju and Porkchop having complete meltdowns and being the complete opposite of reverent and making it impossible to hear, I managed to catch one line of the last part. of the High Councilman's blessing..."As you fulfill your calling, your concerns at home and the those things that weigh on your mind will be resolved." I might not have noticed, except the counselor in the Bishopric commented afterwards that he strongly felt the Spirit and I had been blessed with a great gift.

Huh, what? I have not, until now, let my mind go there. Crappity, crap. They went and brought God into this. And now I have to figure out if I truly believe, have faith even, that if I fully commit myself to preparing and searching the Scriptures "my concerns at home and those things that weigh on my mind will be resolved". Do I believe this? I think I do. I mean, it sounds reasonable and true. Nothing tangible like our well functioning properly or a baby was promised so it's not like I can get bitter. But I don't know yet. I hope so. I will have to test it. For now, I will let you and the Internets worry for me. And who knows? Maybe I will be less cranky. It is quiet now. I think I'm going back to bed.