It could be worse....

Well, A wild ride is what I got for this week.

Tuesday was by far the worst day of the whole pregnancy. I was so sick I just lied in bed (as much as a mother with 2 toddlers can) and cried.

And my poor husband. Tuesday was his birthday. We had a baby sitter lined up and were planning to go out. But I couldn't even respond to him when he came in.

And our water heater went out too- but I really didn't miss it on Tuesday, but by Wednesday I did. And after a quick on the scene investigation, I called for some professional help. But they were booked through Friday- 2 placed booked through Friday! So I agreed to pay the overtime rate and got someone out about about 6pm. Our water heater has a broken igniter. And the plumber company's suppliers do not carry that brand......
So a quick web search produced desired results with overnight shipping coming to more then the part. It should be here tomorrow.

And today, I was at least moving. I had to conquer that pile of sky high dishes and dirty kitchen, even with no running hot water. How did the do it 100 years ago? Duh! they kept water in big pots on the stove at most times and often near the fire. So 6 pots of hot water later and I had a clean kitchen (mopped floor and all). And while we ate dinner I boiled another pot for those dishes (and also used it to bath my Ian).

Then this afternoon I went to my mother's house for a bath. Pregnant women have amazing abilities to smell, and man, did I smell! Then I actually had a nap, made a birthday cake and my man's favorite dinner, sang happy birthday and put my kids to bed. All before nausea kicked in too strongly.

Mike is less ornery, now that someone acknowledges that he had a birthday. Boys can be so sensitive sometimes. And I got him a great card. The cover shows a woman at the sink washing dishes she is saying "The garbage needs to go out and the kids tracked mud through the living room today." Her husband is at the table and he says "Talk dirty to me, baby".

Then in the inside it says" we'll find some way to keep the romance alive, happy birthday"

I felt almost human today

for 3.5 minutes. But the feeling quickly left, although I enjoyed it while it lasted.

11 weeks and counting

I don't think I have days anymore. I am beginning to think that days have me.

Most days begin in a crazy rush to get something into my tummy before I become to nauseous to help the kids get ready for school. Usually, if I eat something, I can handle the rigorous work out Galen and Ian present in the morning- and of course the obligatory lost sock, shoe, and forgotten back packs.

Then I usually go back to bed with Clay. Yup, he got up in the morning commotion and is too tired to face the day. So after an hour or so of a kid sleeping next to me, I wake up to a kid crawling on top of me. Then I eat again and try to accomplish whatever business stuff my customers have begged me to ship to them.

Then time speeds up and it feels like a mad dash to get out the door to school to pick up Ian, do a few chores in town and come home utterly exhausted, tired and nauseous- ready for a nap. I have found that if I keep a few good snacks in the car, them I can handle the errands with out wishing to disapperate into painless oblivion. Don't tell me kids I have snacks in the car now- or they will disapear faster then I ever could.

And then I eat and nap while Clay and Ian get into something and make a big mess of it. If I am lucky then I am able to get Clay to nap again- that helps avoid the worst messes.

The other boys come home and all hell is loosed- there is noise and screams and bouncing balls and crashing pictures and all sorts of unauthorized snacks being eaten- while I do my best to ignore it.

When I can no longer ignore it, because me bladder makes me get up, then I emerge. "Here comes Mommy, out of her cave, better stop and hide what ever it is we were doing." That includes throwing clean towels over spilled gallons of poorly made hot cocoa.

And the kids run up to me with all sorts of school papers and things they want out of catalogs. I nod and try to quietly explain that I will look at it later- like at a time when the house is quiet enough for me to think. Of course, they don't hear me, but they do stop shoveling papers in my face when I start to growl.

And I drag myself into the kitchen and stare aimlessly at the hideous mess that covers every surface- and I just cleaned it yesterday. But at least this time Clay baby walked away smelling good- like hot cocoa and not like Italian season- too heavy on the garlic.

I clean up enough space to cook in- but am still sticking to the floor with every step. And slowly commence the process of making what, was not eaten as an unauthorized snack, left for dinner. I make it simple. I make it bland. If I cannot stomach it then it will do no one around here good. Besides, they can always add salsa (if the do it in the other room from me).

I curl up to the table by the time dinner is ready- and hope I can eat enough to get some energy back for the required after dinner chores.

Yup, we get to entice, beg, threaten and in all ways cohearse, our children to do their 1 little chore to help the kitchen get clean. Somehow, we still manage to do most of it ourselves. Out of the 5 chores we have the task divided into, Daddy and I usually pull of about 4 of them. And then I sit down on the floor to attempt- yet one more night- to get all the sticky and slippery stuff off of it- at least so I can walk with out falling or becoming stuck.

Then it is time to let them run wild for a few minutes while I sit down, before yelling at them to get the PJs on and starting the daunting prospect of homework. I have basically reached a point that if the kids do not want to do it- it is not my grades they are hurting. But I do have to make the time and Mommy energy available for it. And that I do, every school night. When their homework, pens and Mommy are all at the table- and they refuse to come- no matter how often I call- at least I did my part.

Sometime after we have given up (or on rare occasions, completed) homework then we have family prayer, and either a DVD show or stories. I am more likely to read stories, Daddy likes to have them watch something and then it is bed time. Which just mostly seems to mean that the kids get sent upstairs to play.

Galen and Ian have a real hard time calming down enough to sleep- They do a lot better when I read to them- But they can be upstairs for hours before they finally zonk. And of course, as soon as the kids are down- Daddy wants my attention. It is often Daddy's attention that steals story time from the kids. Sometimes, when I am lucky- I can get him to read to them. Then everybody wins. As soon as I am able, I usually crawl back into my cave and forget the rest of the world exists- at least until my bladder reminds me.

I usually have enough energy to head the worst of the disasters off and prepare things in advance and all that kind of good stuff- but hey = that is what little parasites- I a mean babies do to you.

Christmas Wish list

For those who wish to have a guide.

Galen: Care Bears- glow in the dark "Share Bear". Star Wars Lego N-1 Naboo star fighter with vulture droid
Ian: Marble race way, Thomas and friends stuff, glow in the dark care bear
Ewan: Darth Vader Stuff, rabbit, glow in dark dinosaur, street sweeper lego, something to camouflages, parashoots
Clay: Ride on or pull behind toy, he loves to color, play with the kitty and have books read to him.

General idea: art supplies (no paint please), books, activity kits

Mom: a quiet afternoon, solar heated house, larger water heater, a few more bedrooms, a clean house, (ok, so now I am dreaming), good bike, fresh organic tomatoes,

Dad: I'll have to ask him- more later

It's all your fault!

You know who you are, don't deny it.

You ruined my dinner plan (twice) tonight.

Yup. The package from your freezer (which you gave to me when you were cleaning it out) said "Turkey Breast" I envisioned a boneless, skinless turkey breasts- the package wasn't big enough for a bone in turkey breast. So I had planned on cooking a (or several) hunk(s) of meat - herb seasoned- to serve with the Dijon roasted potatoes.

But NO! when I opened the defrosted package- it was thinly sliced. Lunch meat style turkey breast.

Ok- time for a new recipe plan- turkey and cranberry sandwiches. But as each of my children, inevitably tasted the turkey breast- they all left after only 1 bite. It was highly salty for their organic turkey taste buds. (talk about spoiled kids). And it didn't taste that great with the cranberry sauce.

Time for a third try. Then I took a piece, rinsed it (to reduce the salt) and rubbed some of the left over Dijon sauce on my turkey- that wasn't too bad. So I decided to rinse all the turkey- rubbed in Dijon sauce and rolled around carrots- these are now roasting next to the potatoes.

And if it doesn't work- you will hear about it- TRUST ME!

Song List for the pregnant Woman

ALL TO Tunes of our favorite 80's songs:

GOING TO THE POTTY AGAIN (Comma Camelion)
Going, going, going, going, going to the bathroom again. Going potty again. Going potty agaaaaaain.

JUST ANOTHER NAUSEOUS MORNING (Just another Madic Monday)
It's just another nausous morning, oh oh...

HEART BURN (Eternal Flame)
Close your eyes, pass me tums, darling, I can feel my heart burning. Do you understand?

WADDLE LIKE A PREGNANT WOMAN(walk like and Egyptian)

How am I?

Thoroughly, completely, utterally, ridiculously, undeniably and hopelessly nauseous.

It comes and goes. Today it is here. Yesterday I felt well enough to clean my kitchen. Today I literally spent a vast majority of it in bed or in the bathroom.

And it is not just sock to my stomach, it is a lot more like a flu that your body refuses to light a fever to burn it away.

rambles of the day

Days with no School have a tendency to sneak up on a mother. Today was one of them.

It didn't really hit consciousness until sometime yesterday- so I decided it would be better to reschedule my ob appointment- that I made in Crosby until later. But it took me over an hour on the phone to get to a point where I could even leave a message about not being able to make it. That kind of phone time is bit going to work for me. I can schedule at the Mayo easier.

So I am just going to hold my horse and hope that our closest midwife's school dean will allow her to work with me. Technically she is not supposed to do any midwifery while in school- but I have a few unique circumstances that is worth consideration for her school dean to let her anyways.- Mostly the lack of other midwives in the area and the short time it took Clay to emerge into the world. She is about 1 hour from my house, but she is closer then the other midwives- whom are 1.5-3 hours away. As you can imagine, we are definitively going learn about what to do if the baby get here before the midwife.

one of those sick pregnant days

Conversations when I am sick and pregnant tend to go something like this:

Friendly person: So I heard some news. Are you?......
Me: Yes, sigh, again
Friendly person: So how are you feeling?
Me: I am sick and ornery and I will bite the head off of anybody who looks at me cross eyed.
Friendly person: So how far along are you?
Me: 8 weeks (meanwhile I am thinking: I just said I am sicks and tired, doesn't that mean early pregnancy to you?)
Friendly person keeps yacking something and I just start to think about how nice they would look next to mashed potatoes with gravy on top. Didn't I just say that I was likely to bite your head off?