Simply Christmas

I made it. Not just through a week of solo parenting while Husband went to Israel, but to Christmas Eve. And there's a tree up (which I almost thought wouldn't happen), presents wrapped, and most everyone's pajamas made. And I'm twelve weeks and still puking with regularity. My goals for the rest of the year have been accomplished. I've given up on trying to get the front door painted or the rest of the tile.

Things have been scaled back to survival mode as far as activities and Christmas fun this year because of his trip and my being down, but Husband thinks this might be his favorite so far. I have been reminded that my kids are so young and so naive in some ways that they have no clue what they might be 'missing'. My kids aren't on Pinterest or FB. Is there any hope that we have moved on from social media before they get there? Zombie apocalypse? Global warming? Anything but Scrunch on FB.

For now they don't know about the fortysevenhundred different shaped and sprinkled Holiday cookies and personalized, printable cocoa mug labels you can find tutorials for. They were beyond THRILLED with going to the grocery store with their Papa to get me a drink to come home and have a picnic of donuts and Diet Coke in the front yard. They weren't anything but plain-shaped run of the mill donuts but in their minds it should become a tradition.

We didn't make it to any parades or light show extravaganzas, but Porkchop is learning the difference between 'left' and 'right' by updating us all on where to look and see the lights as we drive. He was in complete overload when we drove to the San Francisco Airport to pick up their Papa. I might be raising a country boy since he thought the usual city lights were all for Christmas. We might need to get out more.

Our Christmas miracle occurred when I puked in his Cars tool bucket while stuck in traffic on the Bay Bridge. And then Juju gagged on a piece of ice she was sucking on and threw up. Porkchop watched and then he started gagging. The miracle being that even though it took us almost four hours to get home, I didn't have to shampoo any carpets when we finally did.

Husband pointed out that for at least Porkchop and Juju their concept of time is such that they won't remember we didn't have our tree up three weeks ago, only that there was a tree. But I'll always remember Porkchop standing in front of it today and telling me, "Mom, our tree is the very most perfect." Big deal too since pronouncing an 'f' sound mid-word is a huge effort for him.

I rallied last night and we went out for Mongolian Barbecue and to the zoo. We celebrate all birthdays with Mongolian barbecue and apparently that includes Jesus. The zoo trip was killing like four birds with one stone- animals, lights, Santa, and a train ride. Plus, animals that are usually sleeping every. single. time. we've ever been to that zoo were wide awake. Juju's disappointment in the zoo came when she begged "Let him out! Let him out!" to the wolf hybrid and I did not oblige. We stopped for some last minute stocking stuffers on the way home. I'll go to the grocery store later to pick up the salmon and asparagus we'll have for tomorrow's dinner (at the kids' request) and we'll call it a Merry Christmas!

I was reading some old posts from when I was pregnant with Porkchop. I completely forgot how sick I was. It all came back to me in flashbacks of late night 'Say Yes to the Dress' marathons and living on the couch. This is worse. It feels so wrong that feeling this bad could mean that this pregnancy is healthy. The good news is that in three years I won't have any recollection of it.

Last Thursday I posted a picture of some yarn and pizza I made. It wasn't even good yarn (my first with my new spinning wheel) or pretty pizza (although it was pretty dang good) with the caption "Take that Thursday!". It prompted a couple of very flattering comments which, while very nice, made me feel....not guilty...not bad...but maybe... uncomfortable? Perhaps undeserved.

I posted the 'Take that!' because the rest of the week completely kicked my butt.When I post a picture of my newly decorated living room, I'm not posting a picture of the same laundry pile that moves from my bed to the recliner, bed to recliner day after day waiting to be folded. If I say I spent the day cooking freezer meals, it's because if I don't my family will likely eat Subway three times a week. I sit and make yarn right now because it's the only thing I can do to distract myself from the feeling of simultaneously starving and wanting to puke at the same time. There weren't any pictures of cute ballet flats with skinny jeans and cozy winter sweaters because at that point I'd been in leggings and my slippers for three days. Oh, yes I'm amazing, but I also have a Christmas tree under six inches of snow leaning up against the house because I can't find our tree stand. We both have a vague memory of leaving or ditching it at some point during the move, but can't explain how or where. I didn't post a pic of our newly decorated tree because it's almost mid-December and except for the paper chains hanging in the kitchen doorway there is no semblance of the Merry Holiday anywhere to be found in my house. 

Don't get me wrong, I work hard. Really, really hard. I wake up early, go to bed late. I have ADD and need a project (or eight) to keep me moving forward or I just spin in circles. I don't watch t.v. or get my nails done, or have a gym membership. Not anything against those things, they just take time. And I spend my time doing different things. I have talents, sure. So does everyone. They might be nicer and less snarky than I'm prone to be. So, am I amazing? Maybe sometimes. Some people think so. But so is everyone else which means you're probably pretty amazing too.

At 7:27 p.m. all three kiddos willingly went to bed. Willingly! Sweet. By 8:13 p.m. I guesstimate that I will have fallen asleep during the opening scenes of P.S. I Love You. Before that happens though I need.....
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Excuse me. My seemingly perfect evening was interrupted by Husband kicking me out of the recliner to rock a suddenly not so willing Juju and then Porkchop came down the stairs. "You going to come up and cuddle wif me?"

And then Scrunch heard Porkchop ask me a question so she climbed on the other side of the bed, but only after taking Jango (the dog) down to the utility room because he kept sniffing and tickling Porkchop. Then they both needed a refill of waters. After a half hour of baking between the two not sleeping monkeys I kicked myself out of the bed with a, "Mommy's got to go downstairs. I think I'm going to throw up." I left the room with both kids making puking and gagging sounds.

Turkeys. But cute turkeys who are doing their absolute darndest to not be sassy or say "stupid", "crybaby", or "shut-up" (Thank you Finding Nemo) because they really don't want to lose all their paperclips (I couldn't find my button jar) so they can go to the movie on Saturday. A movie with popcorn in the theater- that is the ultimate bribery, I mean positive reinforcement, for eliciting more of the behavior I'd like to see. Smart turkeys.

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.

In regards to my previous post...

To Do list? I'm sorry. Did I say, "To-Do" list? I meant to say Suggestion List. Or perhaps Possibility List. Like 'You Could Possibly Accomplish All of The Things You Put on Your To-Do Lists if You Animorphed Into a Humanoid Squid With Eight Functioning Arms Or You Take On a Sister-Wife or Two'.

That's it. From now on I don't write 'To-Do' lists, I write Possibility Lists. Like, "I will possibly get to it, but there's a bigger possibility that I won't."

In my defense, it rained last week. It is really hard to paint a front door if it is raining and you've only partially cleaned out the workshop. I did move the chicks outside permanently, built two garden boxes, ordered our orchard trees, bought the garlic to plant, set a date to wash apples and make applesauce, picked up our new buck and set him up with Pan in their temporary housing, and bought the bins for the barley fodder system. I kind of forgot that I had to attend an all day parent training for a super fun school activity for Scrunch today and was reminded by the fact that my sister was also coming this weekend.

I negotiated Halloween by telling my kids that they could each pick 20 pieces of Halloween candy we already had in a bowl we were supposed to take Trunk or Treating, and we went to In N Out and Home Depot instead. But they were happy and by complete coincidence were wearing orange and black. So even though I might be a loser Mom, my kids won't realize it until they are older. They got what they were in it for.

I did manage to Google everything on my 'To Google' list. But of course I did. Because I stay up waaaay too late (not sleeping) and Googling the most random subjects and other weird things. I somehow found myself on a blog of a distant cousin's recent ex-girlfriend where she talks about their breakup. And evil, hard-hearted Halloween-ditching wench that I am, I was totally entertained and even laughed. I might be truly wicked.

Other weird thoughts I've been having lately..."Where's my gun?" Tonight when were we were driving home we saw a fox run up the road and on to the corner of our property and I thought, "Where's my gun?" Whaaaat? I don't even have (nor really want) a gun. But I saw that evil, fluffy tailed little bastage and it brought out a very violent streak.

Husband remarked (after we debated about what it was), "Oh, isn't he cute?"
"No. Hit! him!!!"
"What?"
"Hit him. He's going to eat my babies."

The only thing I can come up with is that I have become supremely protective of my little cheepie babies, or the artificial food coloring from my (way more) than 20 pieces of Halloween candy are starting to affect me in a weird (and a little bit scary) way. Nothing should really surprise me though. My brain is completely fried. Fried. Fried by my five AND A HALF for the love don't forget the half! year old's incessant questions about everything. EVERY. Thing. I can't even put on a movie in the car for some peace and quiet.

"Mom, is 'Finding Nemo' a learning movie?"
"Not really, but we'll be in the car for a while so you can watch a fun movie."
"Mom, can you pause it? I have a question."
"What's your question?"
"If Dory and Marlin got married could they make babies?"
"No." Followed by a ten minute conversation on (I kid you not) inter-species breeding. Do not under-estimate the potential for all moments to become learning moments.

"Mom, can you pause it? I have a question."
"What's your question?"
"What's Frauline Maria's name in real life?"
"Julie Andrews."
"Oh, can we go visit her someday?"
"No." Followed by a ten minute conversation on why famous people don't want to hang with us and why I didn't want to become an actress."

But the best of all was at the nursery while I asked the young nursery worker if they carried kelp.
"Guess what? We got a stinky goat today."
Nursery worker.."You did? A buck? What kind of goats do you have?"
Me- "Oberhasli"
Nursery worker, "Oh fun. I have a pigmy goat."
"Mom, I have a question."
"What's your question?"
"What are the two hanging things between his legs that Pan doesn't have?"
At which point the nursery worker stifles a laugh, excuses himself to check their stock, and I commence on a ten minute conversation about the difference between a buck and a wether, hormones, and what "neuted" is.

Laws. I am. so. tired.

This week...

To Google
Using pig manure as compost
aquaponic pump and timer
baker's rack prices
why is my auto waterer leaking?
cupcake in a jar recipes
hoop house roosts and nesting boxes
how much garlic for a year's supply?

To Do
Chicks outside permanently
Sand front of door and recoat
clean workshop out and put peg board up
call buck breeder back
staple hardware cloth to grow boxes
plumbing tape the duck waterer
hammer the t posts in for the compost pile
order bareroot trees from the nursery
plant garlic
wash the apples and begin dehydrating them
pick up buck
Set Pan and the buck (now named Capt. Hook) in a temporary pen pending the orchard being fenced next week
Buy the bins for the barley fodder system
plant the honeysuckle and Lady's bank roses next to the hoop house

Oh, yah. It's also Halloween.

Good thing we celebrated last week. Pictures will upload when Blogger gets around to it.