It's like the house threw up on itself

Seriously, it is. I don't think there is a single room that isn't a disaster zone. Except for the front bathroom and Buddy Blue's room. We've been putting together our 72 hour kits and rotating the food storage to get it organized. Why is it any time you try to organize, you have to make a bigger mess first? And because we have been working on that all week, everything else is falling behind. Laundry is everywhere I look. Ok, well maybe not the everywhere, but all over the bedrooms, hallway and master bath/laundry room. And just when I think its under control, Buddy Blue throws up all over and Bug can't decide what to wear. I need a maid.

There, now don't you feel better about yourself? On the plus side, I did make my bed this morning.

Never seemed more apt...

Wow. Pulling up this blog for the first time in months and the title really rings true. It all has changed. I have two handsome, healthy, happy and loving boys. A loving husband, and a Heavenly Father who loves me and wants what is best for me and my family.

Bug loves his little brother and is constantly looking out for him. While that sometimes requires the "Worry about yourself, Mama will take care of Buddy Blue." he means well. His vocabulary is increasing by leaps and bounds and as such so is his ability to communicate. Buddy Blue's name changes with what he is wearing, ie: Buddy Red, Buddy Green, Buddy Black, ect. The way he plays with his imagination is hilarious, and he still likes to cuddle.

Buddy Blue has defied all medical odds and is trying to walk. He loves to push Bug's buttons, and thinks being told "No" is the funniest thing in the world. The temper has developed and he isn't afraid to throw and all out tantrum if he isn't getting what he wants. I have already had to start with time outs for him. But there isn't a thing I would change about him.

Hubby has finally been promoted. WHEWW!!! It has been two long years in the making and couldn't have come at a better time. I love how hard working my husband is and all the sacrifices he has and still is willing to make for our family. He is the love of my life and I would be lost without him.

Birth control sucks. Period. All forms. The last birth control I was on was causing me to have a period every 10-14 days. NO THANK YOU! It was horrendous, not to mention the cost of all the tampons and PMS meds. I basically told hubby in January that I wasn't going to refill the prescription and it was up to him to prevent a pregnancy. I guess I didn't make it clear enough that I was done, because, three weeks after my last period, he freaked out when he realized that I hadn't been on any birth control. I wasn't to worried because he was hardly home enough for anything like that to happen. We had talked about having another baby after he was promoted and we got some bills paid down, and I lost the rest of the last two babies weight. I had been trying to use the calendar and basal body temp method of birth control. Throw into the mix the misery of condoms, and low and behold, my period was four days late. Again, I didn't think too much of it because, I was just coming off of hormonal birth control and I knew it would take a few cycles to get back to normal. Besides, I finally started bleeding the day before Valentines. BUT, it wasn't heavy enough, I wasn't cramping like I usually do, and it just didn't feel like a normal period. I had restarted the HCG drops so I thought that was the reason, but just to be safe, I took a pregnancy test. The faintest of lines showed up. I couldn't hardly tell it was there. I didn't feel pregnant, and with both Bug and Buddy Blue, I knew I was pregnant. I could feel it. Nothing this time. Just constantly feeling exhausted. (Again, I had an explanation for that also, two kids with bronchitis aren't sleeping at night). On Thursday my sciatic nerve started acting up, and on Friday, I thought I was having a heart attack, really ended up being a bad case of angina. Saturday the smell of garlic really started to bother me, and Sunday I could hardly walk my hip/leg/knee were hurting so bad. Pregnancy with Bug: spells of dizziness and the occasional heart pangs. Pregnancy with Buddy Blue, let just say I had to quit wearing heels (super sad day). Both pregnancies, I developed a Super Sniffer. If you want to get all technical about it, yeah, all the signs are there, but Hubby and I were in denial. So, stop the drops, say adios to the beloved Diet Coke as a precaution, and take another test in a week.

Bet you can't guess what the result of that one was.

Yep, I'm pregnant. Crap. Feeling kind of freaked out. Didn't want to tell anyone. Keep it a secret and maybe it will go away until I am ready. But no, Hubby let the cat out of the bag first thing in the morning. Tell the whole world, shout it from the top of buildings and mountains. (Personally, I think he is more excited than I am). My announcement, a text to family with my new cell number and a pic of the latest test saying "Guess what!!!"

Don't get me wrong, I do want this baby, and I am doing everything I can to ensure that s/he will be healthy, but three scares me. I only have two hands. And I DON'T WANT ANOTHER C-SECTION!!! Those are really my only hang ups. I know everything will be ok going from two kids to three. If Heavenly Father hadn't intended for us to have families ie: "multiply and replenish the earth", we wouldn't have more than one baby. That and I firmly believe that large family are IN GENERAL, better for children. (I am not saying that all large families are ideal situations for kids, but for the most part, kids from larger families tend to do better in life and thrive in childhood. Also not saying that small families are bad either. Just saying.)

Anyway, I am pregnant for the third time, and I'm kind of paranoid. But everything is going to be ok. We knew a while back that we had another spirit that was ANXIOUS to get here. I almost had the feeling that she is impatient and didn't understand what the hold up was. I'm excited to welcome this new addition into our family, names are currently being veto'ed left and right. Bug and Buddy Blue came so easily, but this time around, nothing seems quite right. Maybe when we find out in June the gender, that will make it easier to find the perfect fit. Hey, half of the contenders will be eliminated if nothing else. But I have now put it out there for the world.

My Love/Hate Affair with Vacation.

I love that it cools down to below 70 every night. I love that Bug gets to play in a back yard that is nearly an acre and is set up like a playground. I love being able to walk outside in my bare feet and not worry about insects. I love grass that is soft and lush rather than wide and sparse. I love seeing my family and my boys having the opportunity to build relationships. I love that I get to meet my sisters boyfriends and decide if they are ok. BUT, I hate living out of a suitcase. I hate not having my own car. I hate that the altitude has made me swell up and I can't hardly pick up my pace with out feeling like I am going to pass out. I hate sharing a bed with Bug and having his feet in my back all night long. And most of all, I hate that Hubby is not here with me. I miss him, my kids miss him, and I miss him. Deep sigh. However, you can't do this in Texas.

Quote I Butcher

About two weeks ago, the lesson in Relief Society was about raising our children. I will admit, I didn't really pay too much attention to the teacher, (Sorry), but a few points did really stick out to me. The difference between "Be" and "Do". And more importantly, this quote about how challenging children are challenging to help teach us as parents to become more Christlike. Something to that effect. Bug has been very difficult for me since I started staying home full time. Even hubby has noticed the difference in how he acts to me and to him. It has been very very frustrating and, in all honesty, it hurts my feelings. (Lame, I know, but it does.) I have been trying to take Dr. Laura's advise from her book "In Praise of Stay At Home Moms". To just enjoy the time with my children. Look at each day as a precious gift with your children. Something like that. It has made a difference, my having a better attitude. There are definitely difficult times. And I just don't know what to do with Bug's seeming hatred of me. I just keep trying to be consistent, and not give in when it gets really difficult. I refuse to raise a narcissistic brat, and I want him to be a happy and kind person who can deal with life's ups and downs without falling apart. One day at a time.

Potty Training Part II and Tornados

So far so good. No accidents this week. Bug doesn't like having to go, but he will pee with out a problem. The other, not so much. He spends about half an hour every other day on the toilet to let it out. Accompanied with a TON of crying and hollering and saying no. So, I have pretty much just started leaving him on the toilet and ignoring him for a while so he can take care of business. Then comes all the clapping and singing "Yeah! Good job!" I'm going to keep him in pullups at night until he is able to take care of the pooping without all the drama.

I have changed my mind about seeing a tornado. Tuesday night scared the bananna's out of me. Hubby was gone and the sirens started going off in the distance. The power had been flicking in and out and the wind was crazy. But inbetween the power blips, I was watching DWTS and the news for updates. Buddy Blue was sleeping and Bug was playing with playdough. (Yeah, he at one point packed his ear with the stuff. Nasal aspirator was required to get it all out. Fun, fun.) Hubby came home and told me the sign at the neighborhood Wal-Mart had been completely blown off. A "Code Black" was called out and all of the employees and cops that were in the store took off running. Store closed, just like that.

So we are sitting in the den listening to the news and it starts to hail. Now I am from Idaho, and I have lived through some pretty severe weather, but I have never seen hail like this. It was litterally the size of golf balls. About five minutes after the hail started, tornado sirens start going off and they are CLOSE!!! HOLY CRAP!!! GET THE CATS IN THEIR CRATES!!! START RIPPING EVERYTHING OUT OF THE HALL CLOSET TO MAKE ROOM FOR US! THROWING WATER AND BLANKETS AND DIAPERS AND NON PERISHABLE FOOD THAT I CAN FIND SUPER FAST IN THERE. Grab the cell phone, start yelling for Bug to come and stand in the closet while I am freaking out trying to grab anything to help us survive if our house gets wiped out and we are stuck. In hind sight, I can see why hubby found it somewhat entertaining. It took quite a while for my heart rate to slow down. The number one thing on my to do list now, it 72 hour kits for all of us.

Potty Training...

Yeah, it stinks. The first two days were great, but that was it. Bug will be three in two months, and he is completely capable of using a toilet. Two kids in diapers is killing my budget, and he can't start swim lessons until we get this under control. I refuse to be one of those parents who "waits until their child is ready". He is ready. He can control it and hold and let it go at will. My house has turned into a war zone. Not just the combative two year old, but the mounds of laundry waiting to get folded, the tables and counters begging for a wipedown, the floors are starting to get to the point you could almost write in the dust (it has been really windy here), none of the beds are made, and I have been out of milk for three days. Yesterday, I almost wanted to go back to work and not have to deal with this, but I know it isn't forever. I'm just tired of the kicking, screaming, scratching and biting every time I try to put him on the toilet. He was such a good baby, and he has become a very challenging toddler. When he does pee in the toilet, it is only a little bit, and he holds the rest until he is back in his underwear. I'm moving our battlefeild into the master bath/laundry room so I can at least fold laundry while dealing with this, and have a chair in there so I can feed Buddy Blue. We'll see how today goes. The turning point has to come soon.

Speaking of Buddy Blue, he is ready for solids. He has been eating 4-6 oz every two to three hours, and he never spits up. Maybe after the boys are down for the night, I will make a solo trip to Wally World and get the milk I have been out of for days, some pull ups for naps and night time, baby oatmeal so I can give the girls a little bit of a break, and double stuff oreo's for me, because I need a pick me up. (Really doesn't help the whole diet thing, but of late I am just too frazzled to want to think about it.)

Hubby wants to see the new Pirates movie, but I don't really know any of the youth in our ward, and because we are struggling to house break the oldest child, I don't want to drop him off anywhere. So that probably isn't going to happen. I'm now going to go rest. And change the diaper of everything he has been holding all day after.

The Clock is Lying!

I wish it was, anyway. I must be out of my mind. It is approaching 3am and I am still awake. This is probably why I am so tired durning the day. Duh. Since Hubby has to get up in an hour to get ready for work, I think I will just stay up until he leaves. I might do something productive, like unload the dishwasher, get my large backside on the treadmill and earn my TV time. (I'm trying to loose 50 lbs by my birthday, and I was doing great until today. Stupid Chocolate) There are four baskets of laundry to fold, that is probably what I will do. Blah.

We started potty training Bug today. Only two accidents! But no poops. I've been told that one is the hardest to do. My hope is that since he is almost 3 (I know, I wanted to start this a year ago) and he doesn't like being dirty, it won't be too hard. Keeping my fingers crossed. Now I just need to work on his eating habits and the deficit in vocabulary. I'm starting to get really worried about it. Right now his vocabulary is about that of an 18 month old. He can say individual words, but not very many, and he doesn't string scentances together like most other children his age. ECI is coming tomorrow for Buddy Blue, I will see if they have any suggestions. Hubby won't like that, but I don't know what to do. This isn't normal.

We already had a nice little discussion (argument ending in my "I'm done talking about this" again) about the term "Special Needs". I don't know why he is so resistant to accepting the fact that Buddy Blue has special needs. There is nothing wrong with that. He is a beautiful, happy baby who seems to be developing normally. We just have to be careful about things that we didn't have to worry about with Bug, and he is going to need more specialized care as he grows. We have both noticed that he doesn't respond to touch on his right foot like he does on the left. He also always keeps the toes on that foot curled up. I can uncurl them for him, but he doesn't spread them and wiggle them like he will on his left foot. But he does have good muscle tone in his leg and ankle. I will have to mention it to the doctors at the spina bifida clinic.

I have less than two months before I go back to see my family. I AM SO EXCITED!!! I havn't seen my family in almost two years and it is way past time. Off to the laundry now. Lucky me.

As I read back...

Wow, almost a year later, and I find that I still feel the same way about insurance companies. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful we have insurance, but they are sneaky. However, I am grateful to have had it. Buddy Blue (confirmed a boy on Sept. 27 along with a scary diagnosis) probably wouldn't be with us today if it were not for modern medicine and insurance.

The routine ultrasound seemed normal enough, except that after the tech told us it was a boy, she kept trying to get pictured of his back, and I noticed a bubble there. I asked hubby about it in the waiting room while we were waiting to get the all clear from the Dr. He saw it too, and thought it was just a bubble. No big deal. Ok, sounds ok. Just a bubble. The nurse finally calls us back to an exam room where we wait for another half hour. Hub says he's going to take off, as rush hour is fast approaching, and the office is on the opposite end of the metroplex from the house. I ask him to just wait a few more minutes, and he stayed. I'm so glad he did. The doctor finally came in, and said yes, it is a boy, and then she said "A few things..." She started talking about something in the scull not being perfectly symmetrical, but lemon shaped, and the cerebral vortex being more elongated like a banana rather than a perfect figure eight, and then she mentioned his back. My heart stopped. The bubble. It wasn't just an air bubble. Something was wrong. My precious baby wasn't just fine. He has spina bifida. I felt like the air was being squeezed out of my lungs. The doctor kept talking and I tried to pay attention. She said it could be anything from he would just have headaches the rest of his life to being basically a vegetable. I tried to ask questions and pay attention to what she and my hubby were saying, but all I could think about was the little girl I used to babysit who had spina bifida and was confined to a wheel chair. My little boy was never going to walk or run or jump or chase his older brother around or do the physical things that Bug could do. I broke down and cried.

The next three days were a blur of emotions and doctors appointments. The perinatologist we saw the next day did an ultrasound and had us meet with a geneticist. I know I have the right to terminate my pregnancy if I want to, but I there are only two situations where I would ever even consider doing that, and this is not one of them. I really felt like the geneticist was pushing me to get an abortion. It really made me angry. The only reason I am sitting in this office is because I need to start making plans for my baby’s future. What special care and needs is he going to need? What treatment options do we have? What is going to be the best for him and for our family? This is not a situation that warrants even the mention of termination.

Moving on… The ultrasound didn’t show any signs of brain damage, which was a major concern. The baby was also moving both of his legs and articulating all of the joints. It was such a huge relief to hear that. They did mention a study that was going on for the treatment of this birth defect, but they told us it would involve moving to Philadelphia, Nashville or San Francisco. We had just purchased our home last Christmas, so that wasn’t going to be an option for us. They scheduled us to have a fetal MRI and meet with a doctor who specializes in spina bifida diagnosis and treatment. Everything she told us was very encouraging and she also gave us more information on the MOMS study. We decided we would look into the study; a decision based on faith, and was scheduled to go out to the Fetal Treatment Center right after Halloween. (By the way, amniocentesis SUCKS!!!) Hubby and I really were looking at it as a free mini vacation since we weren’t planning to participate. The risks just seemed too high. Before we left, we talked to our bishop and let him know what all was going on. He wished us the best, told us we would be in his prayers and gave us a small piece of counsel. He said that the spirit would speak to us at the same time whether or not this study was something the Lord wanted us to participate in.

So, we left Bug with Mimma (I am grateful that she was able to come down and help us, but it came at a very big cost. I’m still struggling to deal with it) and headed to Frisco. I had never been there before, and OH MY GOSH!!! AMAZING FOOD!!! I think hubby and I gained about 7 pounds each during the two days we were there. We talked to lots of doctors and specialists, but it was when we were talking to the Neurosurgeon, Dr. Gupta, that we felt just at peace. A true peace like we hadn’t felt since the ultrasound. We knew we had our answer. Fortunately we randomized to the postnatal surgery. The prenatal surgery would have had a much higher risk of premature delivery, around 32-36 weeks. And it would have meant bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy and all future deliveries would have to be by c-section. Bug would have had to stay at my parent’s house for the remainder of the pregnancy, hubby would have been by himself for five months and I would have been stuck with Mimma. (Yeah, in hind sight I am SOO glad this isn’t where we randomized to. I think the Lord knew that it would have been a toxic combination)

So, home we went and had the holidays together with Bug and Mimma. Bug was much more into the opening of presents this year than he was the last two years. If anything he was banned from the living room where the tree was. The poor tree did get knocked over a few times. Mimma is really too slow to be able to keep up with a super active two year old. We pulled Bug out of the babysitters shortly after coming home from Frisco and Mimma stayed with him while I was at work. I had a calendar on my wall with the days marked in a countdown till my maternity leave would start. The girls at work threw me a fabulous baby shower on my last day. And the cake was beautiful. Tasted great too, and I was able to keep it down. (For the first time in months, they get a cake on the 15th of every month for the birthdays and I hadn’t been able to eat it since August since it made me sick every time). My car was completely stuffed with all of the wipes, baby wash, lotion, towels, clothes, laundry soap, nursing pads and blankets I received. (We didn’t have to buy wipes for two months after Buddy was born, and that was with two kids in diapers.)

Hubby and I headed back out to San Francisco in the middle of January for delivery. If you have never flown Virgin America, I highly recommend it. Awesome service and super comfortable seats. (Not to mention you each get your own TV, just remember your headphones.) The day after landing, we headed to the hospital for the worst amnio in the world. After two needle sticks, some fishing, and moving to a seven inch needle, it was determined that Buddy’s lungs weren’t ready to meet the world. So we got to sit around for a week and wait for the 31st to meet our baby. I did a lot of sleeping while Hubby was filling out the insane amount of paperwork required to apply for a government job. We did hit up one of the local malls, trying to find a tie for him and a dress for me so we could go to church. I didn’t pack any of those things since I was planning to have just had a baby and spend most of my time at the hospital. For some reason, there are no maternity stores in most malls of San Francisco. Kind of a sad testament to the low birth rate and high maternal age there. The only young people we saw with babies or being pregnant were either Asian or Hispanic. I finally found a dress that would cover my watermelon belly and also work for after I lost all the weight (yeah, that still hasn’t happened) at a store that specializes in plus sizes and drag. I saw my first man trying on a pair of glitter high heels. Interesting. And that’s all I have to say on the matter.

On January 31, 2011, Buddy Blue was born. As soon as he was out, they rushed him the the ICN. They brought him back into the or almost as they were finished closing me up. He looked just like Bug. Like a carbon copy. I was too drugged to really know what all was going on, but Hubby told me that there was a lot of meconium and the membrane sac on his back had ruptured. About 7 hours after delivery, I was able to go see him. My poor little boy was absolutely beautiful. All 7 lbs 3oz of him. With dark hair and best of all….NO CALIC!!! My chunky little monkey man. (He was really hairy; maybe what they say about heartburn is true, because I did have a lot of it.)

The next morning, he was scheduled to go into surgery to repair the opening on his back at 11am. By 9am I was feeling really stressed because hubby wasn’t there yet to give our baby a blessing beforehand. He told me later, that for some reason, he felt like he needed to hurry up at get there before 9:30. It was a good thing he did too, because they moved his surgery up to 10am. Less than 24 hours after being born, Buddy Blue was going to undergo major surgery. The emotional stress and angst that accompanies watching your tiny baby being wheeled away from you and into surgery is not something would wish on anyone. It is truly heart wrenching. Hubby did give a beautiful blessing to him for strength and that the doctor’s hands would be guided as they worked on our little boy. I was supposed to be about an hour and a half to two hour surgery. After four hours they finally sent a nurse to my room to let us know that the neurosurgeons were done and now the plastics team was closing the repair. Six hour from start to finish. About an hour after they take Buddy back to the ICN, the neurosurgeon comes to talk to me and hubby about the surgery and why it took so long. Apparently the spinal cord and fused to the membrane sac and that all had to be dissected away from the tissue and put into a column. Since there was no hollow for the column to go into, there was going to be a very large bump on his lower back. He also forewarning us that he was very swollen from all of the fluids they gave him because it was such a long surgery. I’m glad he did.

When they finally took us to see him, it broke my heart. He didn’t even look like the same baby. He was covered in tubes and wires, and his back, oh his poor little back. The repair site was about as big as one of those giant Easter eggs cut in half length wise. The original defect was about nine centimeters long by seven centimeters across at the widest point. So they had to close up a gaping hole with the last of his spinal column sticking up. It was shocking. The doctor told us the swelling would go down in time and has he grew; it would appear smaller in proportion to his body. (Currently, at just over three months, it is the size of a Cadbury egg.)
Buddy Blue stayed asleep for about five days after the surgery. Once he woke up, all of his feeds had to be done through a bottle because I couldn’t hold him in any way that would put any pressure on his back. So I was constantly pumping to make sure he would have plenty of breast milk. Hubby and I got lots of practice cathing him, because we weren’t sure what his bladder function was going to be and we wanted to protect his kidneys.

After two weeks in the ICN, we were discharged and ready to go home. We did an urodymanics study and found his kidneys and bladder to be looking great. The flight home was uneventful, and we walked in our front door around 1am. Buddy’s crying woke up Bug, and he didn’t recognize his daddy. He had been three weeks without shaving and was a good four weeks past due on his haircut. I giggled over that one.

There were lots of doctors’ appointments in the weeks after we came home. Biweekly ultrasounds of his head to watch for hydrocephalus. (Because of his Chari II malformation, there was a chance that his body wouldn’t be able to correct and control the flow of cerebral spinal fluid and it could build up in his brain.) Poor Bug has been dragged to all of these appointments with me. And then on May ? I had an appointment with the neurosurgeon in town. Bad news. The swelling in Buddy’s ventricles had crossed the danger threshold, not leveled off like we were hoping. He was going to need surgery to place a shunt to drain the excess fluid and protect his brain.

After talking it over and praying about it, Hubby and I decided this was going to be the best course of treatment for our baby. We scheduled the surgery for Monday morning when he would be off and able to stay home with Bug while I was up at the hospital. The night before the surgery, hubby again gave a blessing. I remember he said that the doctors would find the procedure very routine and that he would heal quickly and continue to grow and prepare to face the challenges ahead of him. I also specifically remember him saying that Buddy was the trial for his parents to change the way we think of things and to grow and learn to trust and have faith. After I had told my mom about the need for the shunt surgery, she said something that has stuck with me. Buddy has had a very blessed diagnosis for all that would have been wrong, and it has been easy for me to forget that he is a child with special needs.

It was an operation that only lasted about an hour and required one night in the hospital and then we came home. He's been doing great so far, but we had to go back to the bottle since the shunt is on the side of his head and he can only nurse on the other side. But it is very low profile, I doubt by the time he is two you will even be able to see it under his hair.

I have to admit that I am very grateful for the opportunity to be the mother to my two little boys. They are a constant lesson in humility and gratitude and the mercies of our Heavenly Father. I have been blessed more than I deserve, and for my children’s sakes, I will be eternally grateful.

I have to say it. I love blog stalking. Love it, love it, love it. Totally addicting, and easy to loose track of time doing, but you read some of the most interesting (and hilarious) things. You can also find people you had forgotten about. Like the people who went to church with you growing up, or the snob in high school that still isn’t married (yeah, I took a little enjoyment out of that one.) You also run across some cute home decorating and scrap booking ideas and yummy looking recipes. I just need to find one that has a cure for heat induced need to vomit every half hour. That is the only reason I can think of as to why all of a sudden, after nearly three months of feeling great, I suddenly feel so sick all the time. Granted, we are on day 13 of triple digit temps, but still, it has been super hot before and I still felt fine. Minus the crankiness of being hot. San Antonio was insanely hot and grossly humid, and I felt fine there. Lameness of doom. If the rest of this pregnancy is going to be like this, I am going to cry. I hate throwing up. On the bright side, I can’t wait to find out what we are having this time around. Less than 8 weeks to go. However, I have to say goodbye to my dream of a home water birth. Stupid insurance companies. They won’t cover mid-wifery services or home birth, and because I had two kidney stones requiring two ER visits, we can’t afford to pay for both. So, in the interest of my family continuing to live in the same manner without declaring bankruptcy or anything I am going to bite the bullet and go to a regular ob and bill everything through my insurance. Hopefully everything will go smoothly and I will be able to avoid another c-section. Keeping me fingers crossed.

It's been one heck of a year.

And it really has. For the most part, Texas isn't too bad. But I did come to an important decision. If I ever have a baby due between May 17 and November 8, I might get arrested. Not even kidding. I HATE being hot, and if anyone rubs my belly in public, I would probaly hit them. Right now I am 10 1/2 weeks pregnant and completely miserable. It is freaking hot and the only time of day it might be nice (morning) is ruined by the stinkin dang humidity. When I was pregnant with Bug, I didn't swell at all until after he was born. (Result of he retarded spinal from the idiotic C-section. The hospital in Armpit, ID is the worst!) Now, every evening at 4:30, I kick off my regular shoes, stay in my office till 5 (so I don't get in trouble for not wearing OSHA approved shoes) and wear my flip flops. And they even are tight sometimes. I quit wearing my wedding ring, because my hands are way too swollen to even get it past the second knuckle. But on the plus side, I am loosing weight. (Don't talk to me about gaining weight durring pregnancy. When you start out at 200 pounds loose 16 and still have to wear maternity clothes in your first trimester, you can talk to me. Besides, you don't live in humid hell.) As long as the baby is growing appropriatly, everything is fine. My midwife told me she wouldn't be supprized if I did loose some weight. She is very strict about my diet and making sure I get lots of quality nutrients and water, and exercise regularly. Hopefully I will get my home birth, because I am really looking forward to that. I guess there is something to be said of living in a big city, there are a lot more options for alternative medical care, if that is what you want. That, and the shopping is SOO much better. (Hello, Craigslist anyone? It doesn't even compare to Armpit.) Ha, I am ending on a positive note. I'm so proud of me.

I never thought I'd say it.

Well, I've seen a few cockroaches, and even though they are ultra mega gross, and creepy, as long as I'm quick with my lovely "Death to the Nasty Creepies" spray (which is $4 more here at the local Wally World than it was in Armpit, ID) they die fast and I can vacum the corpse without too much drama. But last week, I saw the biggest roach I've ever seen. It was, and this is no exageration, the size of a cigarette lighter. You know the fancy one's you get monogramed and give as gifts. Huge, nasty, and wrong on every level. And here's the kicker. The stupid fat cat that was sleeping on the cat post slept right through it as the thing scuttled right past her perch on the wall. If it had wanted to, it could have touched her with its antenna. I don't know how she didn't hear it, I was across the room from her and I heard it walking. Unfortunatley I didn't have my Death Spray right next to me so, I freaked out a little and lost sight of it running under the entertainment center. Fortunatley, the cat woke up during my freak out and found the nasty thing. So, several shots of Death Spray, it had slowed down enough for both cats to play with it for a few minutes. Torture its last few minutes of life. hehehe. So after I swept it up and dumped it in the toilet, I started bawling. Yep, thats right, bawling. I told hubby I wanted to go back to Armpit, ID. That I'd rather have hobo spiders than these things. It was awful. Every time we bring a box from storage into the house, we have a few roaches. Never that big before, but still. I'm not bringing anything else back for a while.

Now I just need to find a job. I hate the job hunt. I feel like a worm on the end of a hook dangling over a pond of fish that aren't hungry. I'm about to the point that I just go to a Taco Bell or something and get a part time job there till I can find something better. Crapy work that pays is better than no work which doesn't pay.

Very much missed.

Finally, I have internet again. How I have missed it. It's been almost three weeks since I've been able to just look around in the online world. And now I have a nice new computer desk too. Love it, love it, love it.

So, we made it to Texas. So far, so good. Minus the fact that I don't want to go back to work, and I don't know anyone as far as a trusted babysitter, and money is starting to run out quickly. I'm thinking of just going to the Roadhouse and seeing if I can get a job quickly there as a server again. That way I don't have to put Bug in a daycare that I don't know, and there is still a little bit of extra income coming in. Hopefully Hubby's student loans come through soon and then we can start the "discussions" as to weather or not we can afford for me to be a stay at home mom.

Bug is walking all over the place now that we have more space for him to do so. He's getting so big. We had our first bout with pink eye for him. Not something I care to repeat. He looked just awful. But that got cleared up in time for him to get bit by the dog on Monday. I wanted to kill her. She was sleeping on the couch next to hubby while Bug was climbing all over him and playing, when he fell right on top of her. I think it was just a reaction to being woken up by someone falling on top of her, but still, I wanted to kill her. Hubby dealt with her while I took Bug to get cleaned up. Fortunatley, no stitches were needed. He just looks like we beat him. Poor baby.

I Love My Family, I Love My Life, God Bless America

So many changes and yes, I am allowed to feel emotional about them if I want to. I always cry on the 4th of July. This year was especially hard because it was going to be a first and a last all in one. Bug celabrated his first 4th with my family as hubby had to work. Yet, it is also my last 4th in Idaho for a long time. We are officially going to be moving to San Antonio on the 21st. Driving home from my parents house I was listening to the radio broadcast that is syncronized with the fireworks display and I kept getting all choked up. The mc who usually does the announcing/narrating died this last spring and he was a family freind. They did a little tribute to him and that got me started, but when Lee Greenwoods song blurb came on, oh, I totally lost it. I was afraid I was going to have to pull over and re-compose myself. I am so gratefull to live in a free country where I can marry the man who makes me whole, even though he's a different race than me. Where I can raise my son to love an honour God and Country and never feel ashamed of it. A country where my family has every opportunity open to us and all we have to do it take it. Where I can worship in a way that I see fit and live my life by standards that I wouldn't be ashamed of. America is truly great. Our leaders don't always make the best of decisions and are often too caught up in the media "coolness" of themselves. But on the 4th of July, every where I went, I saw families dressed up in red, white and blue, pulling wagons of kids and coolers, ridding bikes to parades, sitting on huge picinic blankets chatting with neighbors and bbqing. Being with the ones they love and hold dear and just getting back to the basics this country was founded on. I can honestly say it is my favorite holiday of the year. It's not about how many presents you are going to get or what kind of candy which house has or who had the coolest costumes. It is about family and the freedom we have to raise our families and work and live and be as happy as we want to be. And that makes me a little bit emotional and gratefull to live when and where I do.

I have to get back to the mad dash of packing up my house before Friday. Can't wait to take that four day trip to Las Vegas. Yes, we are crazy to take a trip less than a week befor we move across the country, but we need to take one last break as it's the last one that we are going to get for a while.

Such high aspirations crash quickly.

Just re-read my last post. I am a lazy, lazy person. Well, not lazy really, just struggling to maintain momentum. And then my cousins baby died, and I've been struggling with that much more than I should considering that it wasn't my baby. It's gotten to the point that hubby thinks I have seperation anxiety with Bug. I hate leaving him at daycare, I don't like leaving him to go on a date night, I just want him with me all the time. I don't want anything to happen to him. Ever. He's started sleeping with us a few times as well. And then he goes and takes his first steps. In the mall, as I'm sitting there with a freind, stuffing those amazing pretzels down my throat he turns away from the chair he's been pounding on, lets go and takes his first step. I start bouncing in my chair saying "Oh my hell, oh my hell!!!" a few times and earned a few dirty looks from the grouchy old lady a few table down and start to cry. My baby is walking!!! Get down off your high horse lady, hell isn't a bad word, its a place, and this is a life milestone. He's growing up so fast. Makes me sad and excited all at the same time.

We still have no idea where we are going to move. All I know is that I have five weeks left of work before spending a week in Vegas, (can't wait) packing and cleaning my house for a week, celebrating Bugs big no. 1 and pulling out for (hopefully) greener pastures. I'm holding out for Oklahoma City, but hubby has his heart set on San Antonio. Does it make me a bad wife if I hope he doesn't get accepted there? I can just forsee so many problems with that particular location and the people that could be involved and I really think it is going to be best for our marriage if its just us for a while. No outside family or relations to reley on exclusivly. Just us. But that is a fight for another day and I'm hoping it never comes. Keeping fingers crossed just in case, though.

I hate trying to pick a title

So, I've been doing ok at keeping up with getting measured. Not so great at eating right, and since I messed up my shoulder, the exercising just hasn't been happening. But, on the bright side, my lean mass continues to increase (a very good thing), but my fat and flabby mass went up a little and has stayed the same. Deep sigh. I miss the skinny me. The nutritionist keeps telling my I've got amazing potential and that it isn't typicall to see lean mass increase so noticibly and I will probably plateau here pretty soon. But I'm trying really hard not to look at the scale weight. I finally got hubby to get measured yesterday, and he is willing to give it a three week crash course with me. He's very skeptical of all diets and so forth. I'm hoping to get him to see the light. Weight loss is truly 80% eating and 20% exercise.

I do love those RedBox things. Yes Man; loved it. The Happening; not so much. The Cake Eaters; too artsy fartsy for my taste, but ok. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button; pretty good, much longer than I anticipated. Marley and Me; loved it, made me cry, and Yuna is the equivilent of Marley in our home, but not quite as destructive. Taken; great movie for snuggling with hubby. Made me feel safe. The movie was good too. In the theater, Star Trek was pretty amazing. I've never been a bit Treky fan, and I told hubby I wasn't even remotley interested in seeing the movie, but we are going to have to go back to the matinee and leave Bug in day care so I can see it again and truly appreciate it. A bouncing, babbling/happy-shrieks/fussing 9mo old isn't a good thing to take the the movies any more. Something I told hubby, but what do I know? I'm just the mom that has had to leave the $2 movies early twice now. (I'm afraid I did rub the whole "Told you" thing for a bit.) Yesterday was Angels & Demons. L.O.V.E.D it. They weren't as hard on the Catholic church in this one as they were in Da Vinci Code. But it was a great movie. Now I have to go to Rome and see all those beautiful buildings for myself. Hubby can come too if he wants.

I was reading a post from Confessions of a Psychotic Housewife (I think that was the one) and I have been inspired to start sticking to a semblence of a schedule. Even though hubby is done with is bachelors, we still don't hardly ever sit down as a family and have a meal. I'm still not exercising to my super dvds and Bug doesn't get to see enough of us as a little family. Neither do I for that matter. So, starting on Monday, I will be getting up at 5*10am to work out, shower, get breakfast started, force hubby out of bed, get Bug up and dressed and we will eat breakfast as a family. I'm feeling pretty excited about this. So many changes I need to make in order to make life for us easier. Especially as we get ready to move. Don't know where we're going yet, but I'm hoping we will have a final destination by the middle of June. Can't wait for our vegas trip either.

Love, Hate and Like

I can honestly say that I don't hate anybody, but there are a lot of people I really don't like. At all. I was talking to Mac and Webb on Wed. at work, just complaining about a caller and how much she bugs me both on the phone and in person (they feel the same way) and I make the comment about how I am a terrible person for being so cinical and cranky anymore. Well, that led into the topic of how nowhere in the sciptures, bom, bible, anything, does it say you have to like everyone. Your supposed to love everyone, but you don't have to like them. So that made me feel a bit better. But I figure, if I don't hate anyone, I am ok to DISLIKE as many as I want.

Good Bye, Diet Coke. Farewell Half & Half...

Today is my last day drinking the best beverage in the world. Diet Coke with a shot (or two) of Half & Half. I love that drink. But, if I am going to suceed in the battle of the bulge(s), I have to change my ways. One of the girls I work with is getting married in a little less than a month, and I have to find something to wear that would qualify under the category of "Cocktail Attire". I have no idea what that is going to entail, but I can tell you this, it won't be at 183 lbs. So, I have five and one half weeks to drop some serious pounds and even more major inches. I'm going in tomorrow to meet with the nutritionist and get measured. And I'm going to have to do this 2x a week as well as Turbo Jam at least once a day and a 1 1/2 mile round trip hike uphill daily with the dogs. No more naughty drinks, no more delicious sugar cookies with the pink frosting, you know the kind. No more Reese's Whipps, best candy bar in the world. Time for getting up early, working out, EATING BREAKFAST (gag, I hate breakfast) and drinking gallons of water. My goal is to fit into the size 9 Tommy Hilfiger jeans I bought durring the pregancy and have yet to wear. Ever. The, all new habits must stay in effect and I want to fit into my sexy dance jeans by the time hubby and I go to Vegas for our second honey moon. I have been promised a massive shopping spree down there if I can fit into those jeans in time. And I'm just tired of being fat. But I CAN and I WILL do this. Go Me!!!

The FURMITATOR!!!

One of our cats is a major shedder. If you even look at him, its like setting off clouds of fur into the air. And if you touch him, its like you put your hand covered in honey into a bucket of feathers. Very, very gross. The vacumming to try and keep up with it all is insane and I was ready to turn him into an outdoor cat as all other avenues to keep the hair under control had failed. But, hubby was doing some research online to control the mess and stumbled across the Furminator. We bought one on Amazon and it finally arrived Monday. Since then we have "Furminated" the Grouch 3x and it is amazing!!! There is a noticable difference in the amount of shedding. You could stuff a small pillow with all the down we have lossened and removed from that feline. If you are having issues with animal shedding, try out the Furminator. It's awesome. Look it up on YouTube if you don't believe me.

Did Dad Seriously Just Do That?

Mr. Bug (9mo) is playing with the umbrella holder thing. Its this metalic, shiney monstrosity we picked up at the Good Will a few years back. And since my child is part magpie, he is drawn to it, must knock it down and mess with it till he unearths some way to break or damage it. Daddy doesn't want him to play with it (but the mail he doesn't want to look at, ie bills, sure go ahead) so he holds out the remote control to the ps3!?!?! Gasp, shock, fall over in a dead faint! The sacred remote control is being offered to a baby over a peice of eclectic junk that we got suckered into PAYING for? Wow. All I can say is WOW.

One day....

One day I will have a clean house. There will be no baskets of unfolded laundry looming ominously at the foot of the bed. There will be no constant drip, dribble, drip, drip from the bathroom sink creating my own personal bacteria garden. I will have living flowers in a box at my kitchen window with no need for cayenne pepper on the dirt. There will be no scars on the cheap flooring from the portable dishwasher, as the flooring will not be cheap vinyl and the dishwasher will be a permanent fixture. I won't have to worry about saw dust falling into the tuperware and silverware from the drawers above. Humidity and mold will not be constant concerns and battles in every room in the house as there will DECENT ventillation through out the house.

Of course all of these things are going to have to wait till all schooling is done for E and I get to stay at home with our lil' Mr. Bug. My time won't be spent stressing out over making sure I'm out of work in time to do the pick up from daycare before the late charges start to rack up. I won't look around me and survey our teeny tiny living space and feel overwhelmed by the amount of clutter that seems to accumulate. Yet every time I try to de-clutter, I find that we do in fact need and use all of those things. Like shoes, and socks and blankets and a dishwasher and dishes and a crappy kitchen table and a leaky fridge and sippy cups and toilet paper and towels and shampoo and razors and so on. I can't wait for Mr. Bug to have his own bedroom with a door. Then we won't be quaranteened to our bed room from 9:30 at night till the next day begins.

Wall sharing, another thing I will NOT miss at all. Currently our bedroom wall is against our neighbors bathroom. Normally, you wouldn't think this is a very big deal. But what causes a middle aged man who lives with his two cats, to moan and groan and finally shout at 6:12 every morning in the shower? And what kind of home repairs to you have to do at 5 o'clock on CHRISTMAS MORNING!!! The kind that requires all kinds of pounding and banging and crashing and cursing? Couldn't that wait till a more decent hour, like 8 when everyone else is surrounded by the sounds of wrapping paper shredding, kids squealing with excitement, carols in the background and the noises from the new toys. I definately think so.