playing catch-up

Why does it feel like every time I go to write on this thing, I feel a pang of guilt? It probably has something to do with the fact that I write so sporadically that I don’t capture all the little wonders that make life so great.

I’m not going to say that I’m re-re-re-recommitting to writing more often and regularly because I know that it never seems to work. But I am saying that perhaps I’ll start trying again.  If I have a thought at work, I’ll open up Word, jot it down and add it later. Even if this blog turns into a list of one-liners that at some point meant something to me, that’s better than not keeping a log of anything right?

Right.

So here goes.

I’m pregnant. And I’m happy.

We’ve waited for a long time for the RIGHT time and even though it still never goes according to plan, I think our timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I have a relatively stress free job (finally), I’m surrounded – and more importantly, supported - by family, Peanut is going to have a cousin the same age – CONGRATS KATHRYN! Ben will be done with school so he can be with Peanut as much as I am and be the dad/provider he’s always wanted to be. With that optimistic premise, here’s some of the ugly truth…

Honesty:

For weeks 8-16ish, I was miserable. I didn’t allow myself to post anything on Facebook and I didn’t want to talk to anyone about my pregnancy because I only wanted to whine and cry about it. I was losing weight at an alarming rate and couldn’t keep ANYTHING down. My stomach was relentlessly trying to rip itself out of my body and my whole body was in a constant state of aches. Knowing my level of curiosity, I knew at some point Peanut would be interested in knowing all about its’ childhood. I remember going through mom’s journal and only reading on days that were near or on my birthday or other significant ‘me’ events. I figured a child of mine would do the same selfish thing someday and I didn’t want the only record it could find to be me talking about how this peanut was actually eating me from the inside out and how the first thing I was going to do when I saw it was punch it in the face. I’m sure I’ll feel these emotions multiple times throughout Peanut’s lifeJ

Anyway, now I’m 22 weeks along – HALFWAY THERE!!! And even though I still have to run like mad to the bathroom while holding a trashcan to my mouth on a regular basis, it’s gotten MUCH better. Why am I sharing this now if my intent was to keep this from my child? Well, my intent is not to keep this from my child. Some of my most difficult days were made tolerable by thinking of my conversation with dad where I asked him about mom’s pregnancy patterns. Knowing there’s an end in sight (that’s shorter than 9 months) was sometimes all I needed to know. So Peanut, if you’re a girl, (and future girl peanuts) there is an end in sight. It won’t be the same as mine, or anyone else’s, but mine got manageable around 16 weeks.

I always knew I would share all this ‘not so rosy’ pregnancy information at some point. But my state of mind wasn’t ready to talk tough about it while I was in the moment. Now I can say – the pain is real, you’re not weak and the memory fades. It’s only been about a month, and I’m still dealing with it but you learn to manage it and find the small joys – even if that small joy is that you managed to keep down 300 calories one day. It’s not easy and I can’t even say it’s worth it… yet;) But you learn what your body and brain can handle and you adapt. 

Barfing:

To be totally honest, the past few days I’ve been thinking a lot about throwing up. Yeah, gross huh. But seriously, I’m at the point where I’m grateful for it. I haven’t been to see a doctor since June and I don’t get to see one again until October. I don’t get a lot of variety in my diet and I’m not showing a whole lot – which I know is normal for a 1^st timer – but with all those things on my mind, a woman can start to worry about the health of her child. A friend recently lost her baby at about 11 weeks. She didn’t even know it had happened until she went to a regularly scheduled doctor’s visit. That’s when I got grateful for throwing up. I have no idea how Peanut is developing or growing but I do know this, as long as I’m sick – it’s safe to assume that Peanut’s still wreaking havoc in thereJ

Toughness:

Why do women (in particular) have such a need to appear tough? I’m talking about many of the most important women in my life. Believe me, I know there are some weaklings out there;) I realized a few weeks ago (one of the reasons) why I was so miserable being pregnant. I didn’t feel like I was qualified. I had to go on a chemotherapy anti-nausea pill after I had lost 20 lbs in less than a month. Weren’t women created to be able to handle carrying a child? Why did my body need some special treatment to do what other women have no problem doing? Other people can handle it, why can’t I?

Then I had a really great conversation with my best friend ever, who was going through a similar situation. We talked a lot about the need to feel tough. It was then I realized that it was such a stupid need.  We put on this façade of physical toughness instead of trying to develop the genuine strength that we actually desire. Its’ okay to feel gross sometimes and it’s okay to say so – isn’t recognizing the problem the first step in solving it? Isn’t recognizing the fact that we’ve got some strengthening to do, the motivator to get strengthened up? Obviously there is a balance – nobody likes a whiner. But I’ve seen some close friends do more damage to themselves trying to be tough than being honest about how they’re feeling.

I think I’m gonna go lift some weights now:)

i'm back!

I think the last time I wrote was when Ben and I lived apart for the first time. And now we’re in for round 2 so it sounds about right that I would be updating the blog nowJ  I know everyone is wondering it so I’ll just answer it – No I don’t prefer to live away from my husband. It actually really bites that we’ve found ourselves in this situation for a SECOND time. Argh!  But before I moved back to Utah I knew 2 things,

I hated my job and it was affecting every aspect of my life.

So I made a change.

Sure, I could’ve held out and worked for Target until I Ben started his career – probably less than a year… But I’ve never been a patient, ‘wait for it’ type of person. And with the Peanut that’s coming, I knew I needed a more family friendly career. Ben knew all this plus he had to deal with a wife who came home a hater every night. He was probably relieved when I got this job in UtahJ  So, we moved me back to Utah and Ben will move out here too when he finishes school in December. One month down, three to go!!!

That little fox is our puppy Scooter. She's a 10 month old husky mix. The sweetest, smartest dog you'll ever meet:)

week 27 - a picture of your favorite memory

Another draft I found...

Last week at church someone got up and talked about how difficult marriage was. She preached about how others don't need to hear about your problems, only He does. How even though sometimes you ask yourself "why did I ever marry him?" you have to dig deep to find the answer. I had a hard time concealing my emotions. Was she being serious? Was she really getting up in front of the entire congregation and basically announcing that she was having marital problems? And why was no one else shocked at this situation?

This is how I see it: Imagine a situation wherein you get to pick your co-worker. You can take as long as you want to find the 'perfect' one. You can even test out the relationship by spending a lot of time together before you actually offer them the job. What are some things you want in a co-worker who you will be working with for the rest of your life? Dependability, honesty, humor, agreeableness, conciesousness, communication, the list goes on and on. What will you need from your co-worker so you can be the best you can be? For me, I need (in no particular order) to be able to laugh, be comfortable, be praised, be respected, be cared about, be listened to, be relied on, be involved, be talked to, again - the list goes on and on. Now you want to make sure you will be able to provide for your co-worker what they feel is important as well. So you should definitely have that conversation before the job is offered. Keep in mind, this 'co-worker' is going to be in your life forever.

I'm not saying that finding an eternal companion should be about checklists and selfishness but I certainly am not a believer in the 'follow your heart' mush that is too often portrayed in society (and I'm not just blaming the media). And no, I don't feel that I'm being hypocritical. I know I have the mushy, fairy tale love and I'll tell the world about it. But I think my realistic attitude about marriage has helped me find that.

Dr. Phil actually does have some good insights. One time I heard him say that you're unhappy when your realities don't meet your expectations. And I agree with that. If you expect marriage to be all bliss and honeycombs - when you have your first fight, the first words that come out of your mouth with be, "I didn't sign up for THIS". However if you have realistic expectations - "I love this man. I know we each have opinions and our own minds and we will each use them - that's just another reason why I love him. Sure, we'll have fights but everyone does and if we communicate effectively we will only grow closer from the experience. We have taken the time to get to know each other enough that I know he has the same goals and beliefs about life that anything else I learn about him will only bring us closer." Please keep in mind that these expectations are for both members of the couple. No matter how great one spouse is - it is impossible for one person to give the 200% required to have a successful marriage.

I guess it touched me so much because I'm so lucky to have a man who's stuck with me forever who already knows me so well and is already so stinkin' wise. I don't believe in soul mates but there's no doubt in my mind that we were made for each other.

Although I took a VERY long time to try and decide what my favorite memory was, I finally decided that those kind of favorites also change with time. 5 years ago it would have been when I met my 'BFF' (cheesy - I know) by having a water fight with some crazy girl I hardly knew. 4 years ago it would have been when Ben so eloquently and innocently asked me if we could start dating. 2 years ago it would have been the ridiculous soda throwing fight I had with Ben that made me realize I couldn't live without him. I've had a wonderful life thus far and I know it's only going to get better as Ben and I progress out of our honeymoon phase. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE being Ben's only 'girl' - I was actually selfish enough to have a conversation with him where I made it clear that when we have a little girlchild - I still want to be his one and only 'girl'. That's just another testament to how completely unprepared I am to start having children:)

On that note... I actually think my favorite memory as of this moment is when Ben and I visited Fern and Dereck in the hospital where they had just welcomed the newest little addition into their family. Emma Elizabeth Hooley. It was the first time I actually felt natural holding a newborn. Normally I shy away from them - I prefer toddlers that can fall and not break. Ben and I talked about my change in attitude which led into a conversation about family planning. He mentioned that he's always been ready to have a family with me. But he also knows me well enough to know that if he had pushed me AT ALL about having babies before I was ready, I would have gone all Rosie the Riveter on his behind. And who knows where we would have been. Maybe it doesn't sound sweet to anyone else but me, but I love that he knows me well enough to know when to push and when to be patient and let/help me reach conclusions on my own. What a guy... what a guy

blogging away time...

I found a few drafts of blogs I had started, completed but never posted. Better late than never:)

I have a paper to write. It's due tomorrow. But ya know, I'm not really feeling the academic me is ready for it quite yet. So while I wait for her to meander her way to Microsoft Word I'll entertain myself in the world of blogging with no purpose.

What to write about, I could address the ever-incresing problem of world hunder?....or maybe my quick-fix to international peace?....water conservation?....nah. Water... I fell in a pool once....That's it! I'll talk about my summer in Frisco!

Well I have to tell first why I went. But I can't. There was no reason. I heard about it, thought it'd be fun, and signed up. I can't even explain why I didn't try to recruit people I already knew to come with me, or why I wasn't very anxious at all. It was just something that needed to be done. There were bugs in San Francisco and I needed to kill them.

So I went. Home long enough to do my dirties (for non-Page readers: dirties=laundry). Then on my way. I was a big girl, flying on my own.

That's when I started freaking out.

I was on a plane, by myself. I was going to California, by myself. I would be there for 4 months, by myself. I knew no one I would be living with or working with. In case you've missed it, I would be BY MYSELF.

Now that that (I've always wondered about "that that's." How would you be grammatically correct?) fact is clear...that I was completely by myself, I can move on.

The summer began with a scare and ended with a splash. Both of those verbs are literal. Promise.

Let's start with the scare... For those who have never worked in summer sales or pest control, most salesmen prefer to knock doors in the newer developments. Maybe because new home owners are a little more willing to invest in pest control, security systems or whatever you're selling. Whatever the psychology behind it, I was glad. I preferred to service homes that still smelt (smelled?) new. Unfortunately, one of my sales reps decided he served a greater purpose, forget about preventing pests, he was going to rid the world of them. Where to start? At their nest. It was a little neighborhood lined with condo's built so close together, there wasn't room to fit a lawn mower between them. It's pretty common sense that if your neighbor gets pesticides laid down, bugs move next door. So this sales rep only needed to sign up one house and all the other owners came pouring out clammoring for our services (you'll see why this 'pouring out' is a bad omen in a minute). The sales rep left after finalizing a weeks worth of contracts and I was left to do the dirty work.

The first house wasn't so bad. I needed to lay down a couple glue boards to confirm the type of bug we were dealing with and then I sprayed down the interior and exterior of the house. Second house, same deal but saw a few roaches so I added bait to the mix. Third house... bad news. They had a major roach problem. I realized I needed to find the nest (or at least A nest) these nasty things were coming from. So I started checking the water boxes out in their front yards. Fifth house down the street, I pop it open and all I see are disgusting, vile, HUGE cockroaches climbing all over each other. I pull out the only weapon I had - in retrospect, it wasn't very smart... - my backpack pesticide sprayer and I doused those suckers. I can't emphasize this enough,

THIS WAS A BAD IDEA.

Roaches were everywhere. Within seconds they were pouring out of the water box and covering the front lawn. Within minutes, crawling up the walls of houses. Between seconds and minutes... crawling up me. I could feel them crawling up my pants on my bare legs and I kinda lost it. Lost my pants that is. I dropped my pants and ran for the safety of my bug truck. Those were the first pants I lost on the job that summer.

Whew, I'm gonna need a minute to calm down... I HATE roaches.

Now for the splash, this story is a little less intense. And by that I mean I don't get the heebie-jeebies when I tell it. This took place at a gorgeous house, with a gorgeous yard and a gorgeous little family. After making some small talk with the family I went on to start my routine around their house. We always started by dewebbing the eves along the perimeter of the house to get the spiders out to rebuild so they walk through the spray when it's most potent. I like to think I was so incredibly focused on my job that I just didn't see it coming. After taking a quick glance around the backyard I didn't note anything out of the ordinary. My eyes didn't differentiate between the grey of the concrete and the grey of their pool cover...

As I was focusing on getting a particularly stubborn web, I took a few too many steps back, fell on my rump and the 'concrete' started sinking. Extremely confused, I couldn't understand why water was gushing towards me as I was sitting on sinking concrete. Have you ever tried to get out (or off) of a pool cover? Now try it while holding a 15' extendable pole. Yeah, I coulda won America's Funniest Home Video's with this scene. You can imagine the looks I recieved as I calmly rang their doorbell and explained that I would need to come back tomorrow to finish their service as I was clearly sopping wet.

There were certainly more stories that I wish I had documented as they happened, staring a rat dead in the eyes in a creepy old attic, fogging a house, then turning around and seeing the owner stading behind me with no respiratory gear on, the list could go on and on. But these were the two stories that I feel sum up my summer doing pest control.