Dear Momma Bears, I Totally Get It Now

I used to think that mother bears were ridiculous in not leaving the den (not even to eat!) during the 2 to 3 months right after their cubs were born, but now that baby Emmett is about to be 3 weeks old, I totally get it. Truth be told, if it weren't for his doctor appointments and my hubby's need to eat, I would still be momma-bear-ing it on the living room couch... too afraid to take my eyes off the precious, heavily asleep baby in his Rock N Play sitting a full 6 inches away from me.
Up until 3 days ago, my entire days and nights were spent on that couch waiting for Emmett to go to sleep, to wake up, to get hungry, or to need a diaper change. I think I only brushed my teeth about five times and showered twice... maybe. Let me put it out there, I am terrified at being a mom because I have NO IDEA what I'm doing, so naturally I freak out every time my son makes a sound, and I freak out even more when I need to leave his side to wolf down some food or to use the bathroom.
It's kind of taken me this long to figure out that 1) it's ok if Emmett cries for 15 seconds 2) if something is wrong, he'll let me know, and most importantly 3) babies are noisy sleepers. Camping out on the couch next to the Rock N Play for about 10 days straight made me a zombie from lack of sleep. I would jump up and prop myself on my elbow at the smallest sound of life coming from Emmett, and then just sit there staring at him for 30 minutes to make sure he was okay. Life got really hard without sleep, but 4 days ago in my delirious state I had a sudden, crazy, out-of-this-world idea: What if we start sleep training? What if Emmett sleeps in his crib and I sleep in my bed? Could that be possible???
It turns out that I majorly lucked out, because Emmett is an angel when it comes to sleep. I just might be the envy of all moms out there. Get this: my 3 week old son can sleep for a full 6 hours. Unfortunately, Emmett seems to be on dad's schedule, because at the moment he does his heavy 6-hour-stretch sleep during the day and his light feed-me-every-hour sleep at night. For the past 3 days we have been working on reversing the two... Babies don't produce melatonin until about 6 months, so he really has no idea when day or night is, so it's not his fault.
Let me tell you, moving him to his crib has been the most inspired mom thing I have done so far, because now I only wake up when he needs me to wake up (aka when he cries) instead of waking up after every moan, whimper, grunt, and sneeze. I think we are both better off: last night I only got up to feed him twice, and he is learning how to self-soothe from a young age.
This nightly separation has opened my eyes and pulled me from my momma-bear stupor. I'm finally okay with leaving his side for "extended" periods of time during the day... I actually did 2 loads of laundry yesterday, ya'll. What a big deal. Maybe tomorrow I'll get crazy and actually cook dinner. With like, real food and stuff. Lets see how that goes.

The Birth of Emmett Beckham

Emmett is 11 days old today and I have finally found some time to sit and write his birthing story. Actually, I didn't "find" time, but it just so happened that he is asleep in his bassinet right next to me, I just woke up from a 2-hour nap, the house is completely silent, and I am clear-headed enough to type. For the first 2 or 3 days after delivery I kept going over the details of Em's birth and wishing very badly that I could have someone to talk about it with and not sound crazy. It sounds like I went through a very traumatic event, but what I really wanted to do was internalize a few facts such as "wow, I really did give birth" and "the thing I was dreading for months is over" and "damn, that was the hardest thing I've ever done" and most importantly "it hurt a lot, it seemed impossible, but I did it anyway and I am proud of it."
I was not very aware of the timeline of events after my induction, and I am quickly forgetting some facts, so to help myself out, I will write the remainder of this post with bullets and hours and see if I can find some clarity. Here goes:

Wednesday November 25th, 2015 - Thursday November 26th, 2015

• 5:30 PM Arrived at the hospital and checked into the ER. Signed a bunch of papers, and then went into the waiting room because my room was not available yet. 
• 6:30 PM Room was ready, changed into those terrible hospital gowns and got strapped down with monitors on my belly. Emmett kept moving a lot, so they kept having to re-adjust the monitors tighter and tighter... it got very uncomfortable. 
• 8:00 PM Started on Cervidil; I still remember the application being more painful than the contractions because I was so swollen. Gosh dang it, that sucked. I was told to sleep as much as possible, but there was too much adrenaline in me, I think. I may have dozed off for about 2 hours during the night, but sleeping was difficult because they kept having to re-adjust those darned monitors and make me switch sides. I started having contractions but didn't feel them until much later. Longest night of my life, I was soooo uncomfortable. 
• 3:00 AM Cervidil came out and had to be re-inserted. It hurt as bad as the first time. Ugh. I think the second time around was done correctly because contractions really kicked up and I really started feeling them.
• 6:00 AM Started on Pitocin. I think I over-react to any drug I've ever taken, and this was not the exception. Just two hours later I had a fever, which caused Emmett's heartbeat to get very high, and I was having tetanic contractions. It's a good thing I didn't know what these were until now, because I would have been freaked out if I did... Tetanic contractions are contractions that come so frequently that they merge into one sustained contraction, which SUCKED because OUCH and because I felt like I couldn't breathe. I was very unaware of what was going on around me, but I remember having at least 3 nurses around my bed trying to fix things. Somewhere in there a nurse rubbed alcohol on my shoulder and informed she was giving me a shot to slow down the contractions. I hardly felt the sting because of the unending contraction and because someone was really tightening the monitors on my belly trying to get Emmett's heartbeat back on. 
• 7:45 AM Finally I was able to breathe and the crazy blur of confusion and pain and nurses slowed down to something I could process. The contractions came, but with breaks in between them. I was also given Tylenol for my fever. 
• 10:00 AM Contractions getting stronger and faster, in danger of becoming one never-ending contraction again. Nurse slowed down the Pitocin and informed me that an epidural was on it's way because it was still crazy painful every time they tried to check my cervix. I asked to use the bathroom before the epidural and felt such relief at finally being allowed to get off that damned bed. Contractions are sooo much more bearable when you're not laying down, I found out. 
• 10:20 AM My nurse talks me through the epidural process and freaks me out because she says it's painful and a really awkward pressure. 
• 10:30 AM Anesthesiologist arrives and starts getting everything ready. I look at anywhere but at whatever he's holding. I'm asked to sit up on the edge of the bed and hold a pillow to my belly. I bark at Philip to stop watching Hulu on his phone and come hold my hands. I feel the cold alcohol swab on my back and tense up waiting for the pain to come, while also breathing through a contraction. Needle #1; a sting slightly less painful than a bee sting. Very bearable compared to contraction pain. 20 second pause. Needle #2; super awkward pressure-pain while I wince and try to break Philip's fingers off. For some reason I imagined the needle was going to go a lot deeper than it did and the pain would be a lot worse. It was over a lot quicker than I thought it would be, and not nearly as bad as I feared. 
• 10:45 AM Everything below my belly button started feeling super warm like I just sat down in a bath, it was heavenly. I just sit in pure amazement at what modern medicine can achieve. After 20 minutes of bliss, I get a catheter inserted (didn't feel nice) and freak out because the nurse announces she has to check my cervix, so I brace for the pain. All hail the epidural gods, because it's finally not painful to have someone's hand go up in there. She announces that I am 4 centimeters dilated, and I am shocked to know that this is actually happening. I sleep for about 2 hours, I think.
• 12:00 PM-ish Dr. Nowitzky comes in and breaks my water, it felt so yucky to be sitting in a pool of water. She also announced that I was 7 centimeters dilated, and I am shocked at the progress. Everyone seems happy that this is moving along quickly. I am starting to feel the pain very strong again, so I ask to push what they call the "pain button" which gives me a quick dose of anesthesia through the epidural.  
• 2:30 PM I seem to be stuck at 9.5 centimeters, so my Pitocin is increased and they make me lay on my side with a sponge pillow thingy between my knees. SO. MUCH. PAIN. The "pain button" thing didn't work, so the anesthesiologist comes back to give me a shot of whatever magical substance he has. It kind of sort of works for a little while. 
• 3:00 PM I finally reach 10 centimeters and I'm ready to start pushing. Nurse informs me that it is not unusual for first time mothers to be pushing for at least an hour before the baby comes, and since I'm having a big baby that might well be the case. I spend the next hour and a half staring at the minute hand on the clock willing it to move faster. 
• 3:30 PM After 30 minutes of hard work, the nurse makes me lay on my side with the pillow between my knees to help Emmett come down a little more. She makes me switch sides every 5 minutes, and everything about this really sucks. It hurts to move and to breathe and to sit and to lay and to exist. Epidural is wearing off a lot. 
• 3:50 PM We start pushing again. I say we because it was like a team effort. My mom holding my left leg, Philip holding my right, and me just whining to both of them about not being able to do this anymore and for some reason talking to my contractions and begging them to stop. They didn't stop. I tried a lot harder during some pushes than others, but after what seemed like an eternity the nurse finally called my doctor and the delivery team into the room. 
• 4:25 PM LONGEST 5 MINUTES OF MY LIFE. It may have been less than five minutes, but I was crowning and felt like I would die if I didn't push right away. The delivery team was getting ready and I was ordered NOT to push until they told me to. The "ring of fire" is a real thing. A very real thing. 
• 4:29 PM A strong contraction came and I was FINALLY allowed to push. It only took about half the effort of a regular push, and I felt Emmett's head come out. 
• 4:30 PM A second push and the rest of him slides out a lot easier than his head, and he is placed on my stomach and my body is shaking so much that I'm scared to hold him. Emmett is crying his lungs out and I am amazed at how strong and big and beautiful he is. Someone hands Philip the scissors and he cuts the umbilical cord. Then I laugh because a nurse says that he looks like he's about to pass out (which he does). What a softie. 
• 4:33 PM They take Emmett to weigh and clean him. More shenanigans going on down there... my nurse presses hard on my abdomen to get the placenta out, and then the Dr. announces I have 4th degree tears and she has to sow me up in two places. I try really really hard not to imagine what it must look like down there, and distract myself by looking at Philip holding our perfect son. The epidural effects are almost all gone, so I do feel pain at getting sown up. 
• 4:45 PM Lots of people are working at cleaning things up, I'm working on not shaking so much, and Emmett is placed on my chest for skin-to-skin contact. My dad, who apparently had no sense of privacy on that particular day, walks into the room to see how I'm doing. I'm given some pain pills, the OK to drink water, and some saltine crackers. My mom takes terrible pictures... not of me holding my baby for the first time, but of me wolfing down crackers while holding my baby for the first time. Don't judge me guys, I was starving.
• 4:55 PM Asked the nurse if I could please, please eat half of a Baby Ruth that had been sitting on the table laughing at my suffering and hunger all day. She warned against it because it might make me nauseated... but I wolfed it down anyway and it didn't. Philip is busy calling a bunch of people with the news, and soon after I eat the candy bar I feel relaxed enough to close my eyes since my mom is holding Emmett. 

I dozed in and out of it for the next hour. I was about 75% aware of Philip's parents and Kaleb coming by and taking pictures, but I was too drowsy to say much more than "don't Facebook this yet." 

Soon, everyone was ushered outside and I was finally left alone with my baby in my arms for about 5 minutes. I looked down at him and we had our first conversation:

Me: Hello baby, I'm so glad to finally meet you.
Him: Hi.
Me: Did you just say hi to me?
Him: Yes.

Twenty hours of labor, and not until then did I give myself a chance to cry with my son before anyone came back in the room. 

The Prego Diaries: Week 30

I feel this EVERY DAY. Seriously.

Oh my gosh, I'm HUGE! And I only have 10 more weeks of being pregnant! These days are passing by very quickly and very slowly at the same time. I want the days to go by quicker because I want my body back: I want to be able to tie my shoelaces, paint my toenails, and get things out of the bottom drawer without feeling like I just completed a session of bikram yoga. But then I want the days to go by slower because I'm panicking about not having our nursery complete yet (it's silly to worry about this, I know) and also I keep having terrifying nightmares about labor.

That last part is not completely unjustified: baby Emmett is going to be a big baby. Just one week ago I went in for a sonogram and his weight was 3 pounds, 6 ounces. I just cannot forget those numbers. Dr. Nowitzky told me that he's supposed to weigh that much at 31 weeks, (not at 29) so he's at least 2 weeks bigger than what the average baby is! She asked how much I weighed at birth (barely cleared 7 pounds) and then chuckled and said "ha ha, no, this is NOT going to be a 7-pound baby".
It seems crazy, but I already feel bigger and this happened just one week ago. I wouldn't be surprised if he's grown at least another half pound in the past 7 days.

Baby Emmett feels ridiculously strong already. He squirms and kicks and punches whenever it's breakfast time, lunch time, dinner time, and occasionally midnight-snack time. I'm pretty much not allowed to feel hungry at any time of the day for fear of getting mauled from the inside.

I think back to my first trimester and just laugh and how disgusted I was by so many kinds of food; these days NOTHING food-related survives in my presence for very long, and much less gives me nausea. I just hope that I can work off this baby weight after Emmett is born, and that I find an effective form of weight loss. Now that I know how awful it feels to be this big, I think I will do anything in my power to reach my "skinny clothes" goal.

Lessons Learned at Walnut Ridge

Day we moved in, March 15 2014.

Today marks the last day we will be calling Apartment 406 our home. Soon after this post I will begin the long and tedious job of packing the remainder of our belongings into boxes so they can be ready tomorrow morning when friends and family will help us move into what will be our new home for the next 15 months.
I have mixed feelings about this place. As soon as we are settled into our new apartment I am ready to type out a most unflattering 1-star review on every apartment website I can find about this place: Our water heater breaking our first day here, our cars broken into 3 times in 6 months, the upstairs toilet leaking all over me and not getting fixed for 3 days, the incorrect dishwasher installation which flooded our kitchen and living room and took 2 weeks to fix, the neighbors who played awful music so loud our bedroom mirror rattled all night, the police getting called 3 times in one night and the apartment night duty still refusing to do anything about it, the stray cat who took refuge in our back porch and never left, the dryer vent being so full of years worth of lint it caused our dryer to overheat and break twice, and the limitless supply of roaches crawling all over the place no matter how much Raid I sprayed will definitely be mentioned in my review.

All in all, I'm glad to be moving out of this complex and into a nicer one, but I still have enough insight to appreciate the valuable lessons we learned over the past year and a half, and just how much Philip and I have grown as individuals and as a family.
Back in March of 2014 this apartment was definitely not our first choice, but it was all we could afford at the time. I remember it took every penny from both of our full-time incomes just to be able to pay for our rent, give the minimum payment on all of our credit cards, fill our gas tanks to halfway once a week, put $40 into savings, and have just enough left over to buy a  bag of dog food and groceries to make sandwiches. I took to extreme couponing, selling old textbooks on Amazon, and taking online surveys for a little extra cash. Phil used his days off to do some work on the side building house decks. Back then, our idea of a fancy date was spending $5 on a couple of Sam's Club hot dogs and sodas, and then taking half an hour to browse around the store carrying a bag of rawhide bones for our dog, for which we had carefully set aside $17. I suppose our priorities were slightly askew... but Venom was like our first son, so you can't blame us too much.

We have come a long way in just 1.5 years. The last of our many credit cards is well on its way to being paid off, we don't have bill collectors calling 10 times a day, we finally have ridiculously expensive health insurance (thanks a lot, Obama), we could afford to take a nice vacation two months ago, we have enough in our emergency fund that buying $1,000 new truck tires was not a big inconvenience, we spoil ourselves by eating out with friends on a weekly basis, we are preparing to move into a more expensive apartment and rely only on Phil's income, and most importantly, we are getting ready to welcome a very special baby into our family... plus all the bills that come along with him, such as mom going into nesting overload and tirelessly shopping for nursery furniture and decor. We have also outgrown most of the hand-me-downs that started us off as a newlywed couple: goodbye saggy old couches, scratched and wobbly side tables, mismatched bedroom furniture, ancient lamps that seemed to breed spider webs, plastic and warped dollar-store plates and cups, Craigslist dining table and chairs, and secondhand washer and dryer units.

I can fully attest our financial progress was due to the blessings of paying a full and honest tithe. Sometimes it was hard to let go of so much money, especially since just one week of tithing could have granted us a month of groceries, or could have paid for me to take a weekend trip and visit my parents in Los Fresnos, or could have purchased a much-needed pair of steel-toed work boots for Philip... but if there was ever ONE thing my husband and I agreed on in our ever-feisty relationship, it was that tithing came first and everything else would fall into place later. And we saw the Lord's promise being fulfilled time and time again, almost on a weekly basis. I sometimes think that it was purely the Lord's hand which kept us from robbing a bank. God helped us in very creative ways: a random $100 HEB gift card from my boss, an extra 4 hours of overtime for Philip, a late birthday card in the mail containing a $50 bill, an unexpected credit line increase just in time to pay for a medical expense, someone offering $20 to use our truck to move furniture, a friend offering to pay for a meal at a restaurant, and our absolute favorite: those months of the year which have 5 Fridays instead of 4, which gave us a whole extra paycheck to catch our breath, splurge on the good deli meat, and get wild enough to go to the movies and buy popcorn AND hot dogs AND a soda.

Early in our marriage, the life of an oilfield wife seemed very daunting. (Philip is an oilfield pipe fitter, in case you don't know). Philip works as a contractor, taking jobs as they come, and unexpectedly getting laid off as the jobs finish, or the project goes over budget, or if he makes a bad enough mistake (which has only happened once), or even something as trivial as an angry foreman having a bad day and firing the first person in his line of sight (which has also happened, unfortunately). It is not uncommon for him to start a new job with a new company 4 or 5 times a year... which makes gathering our W-2 forms during tax season quite the project, and also gives us about 2 to 4 weeks of extreme "in-between-jobs" panic each time it happens. And then, once he does manage to get started, it's the erratic schedule of the jobs themselves. Some are out of town, some are out of state, some are offshore, and some (like now) are overnight, which gives us a very limited amount of time to spend together.

It is because of the experiences with these jobs that I consider us a stronger, more stable family. I have learned how to be less attached, more independent, and to place my complete trust in his ability to provide for us. He, on the other hand, has been brave enough to take all kinds of jobs, work with all kinds of people, in all kinds of places, and trust that I am holding my own back at home, budgeting and getting our bills paid, and not burning down the house by forgetting to clean the lint out of the drier.

So all in all, I think we are ready. He has gained enough work experience to accept only the high-paying jobs and provide for us, I have gained the confidence to live on my own when necessary (I can change a flat tire while pregnant, guys. The extra weight actually makes it easier.), and we have both learned to trust the Lord and trust each other to make wise, independent decisions.

Although moving to an apartment complex 1 mile away may not seem such a big deal, I feel a strong sense of accomplishment because this move marks the end of a growth period and the beginning of another, especially since we are on the verge of becoming first-time parents. Goodbye Walnut Ridge, and see you tomorrow Camden Copper Ridge!

At Least It's Crossed Off My Bucket List

This post is over a month late, but I need to record it anyway. In June of 2015 I had the great opportunity to cross off a bucket list item: Go Whitewater Rafting. If we use our brains though, we see that Damaris also happened to be pregnant during June 2015, which was NOT an ideal situation. Thankfully, nothing terrible happened,but the experience is definitely filed away under the "never again" category.

So here's the deal with why it was not a good idea to go rafting while 17 weeks pregnant: 
1) I went from Corpus Christi, TX to Vernal, UT... an altitude change of 5,320 feet. I was fighting to catch my breath while just walking through the airport, plus pregnancy already causes shortness of breath. It was terrible.
2) Utah was HOT. I'm used to hot and humid weather, but I'm always INSIDE a nicely air-conditioned building. It turns out the great outdoors is not air conditioned. It was 105 degrees out there.
3) Because we were traveling, I had little choice but to eat mostly unhealthy foods, which affected my already-delicate blood pressure situation.
4) I was in the awkward stage of pregnancy where I just looked super puffy and overweight, not exactly belly-bumping it yet. I felt like I got a lot of "you're too fat to be doing this" looks, which was probably just my imagination, but I still felt self-conscious.
5) I was too big for the life vest to fit correctly over my stomach, so even though our guide tugged hard on the straps to make it super tight (ouch), it still rode up over my shoulders and hit my chin and allowed for very limited movement overall.
6) I'm positive I didn't take a full "fill-up-your-lungs" breath the entire day. Nobody noticed, but I was constantly on the verge of a panic attack from not being able to breathe correctly.

But here's the deal with why I went whitewater rafting anyway:
1) It was on my bucket list, and I felt that once the baby was born bucket list opportunities would be almost nonexistent.
2) I had never really vacationed in Utah, or in any place with mountains for that matter, and I was interested in the geology.
3) I felt I owed it to my super adventurous husband, who spends the majority of his life working and was extremely excited about this trip.
4) I was stubborn and wanted to prove to myself that I could do anything I wanted, pregnant or not.

And here are some pictures of our adventure:

See the difference between how Phil's vest fit and how mine fit? He didn't mind his at all.

The mountains and rock formations were BEAUTIFUL. I love geology.

Fun fact, I also went to the ER the next day. Apparently I hurt my rotator cuff while paddling. 

This trip felt like a near-death experience to me, but it was a walk in the park for my husband.

Sleep Talking Once More

Philip has been working nights for several months now, so the opportunities I have to hear him talk in his sleep have been few and far between. This morning I stayed in bed a little later than usual, and when I finally checked the time on my phone and ninja-jumped out of bed, P was fast asleep next to me. I say ninja-jumped, but these days my "get out of bed quick" moves are the equivalent of a walrus rolling into the surf: groans, huffs, and puffs included. Here's what happened:

Me: *rolled over and put my head on P's stomach*
Philip: that's enough for me
Me: What?
Philip: stop putting that crap on me...
Me: What crap?
Philip: that sunblock stuff, I don't need any more
Me: Okay, I'll stop

If I had not dozed off for a few more seconds I think I could have gotten a better conversation/story out of him, but still, this one was funny. Maybe he was dreaming of being on vacation?

The Big Reveal

This post is about a week late, but I want to record our amazing Gender Reveal cake. I found something like it on Pinterest, but our local bakery did a much better job, and it was definitely one of the best cakes I've ever tasted. I was so worried about all other aspects of the party that it never occurred to me to photograph the table where it was sitting on, so that's a bummer, but the gist of it was: "He"-colored Hershey bars on the left, "She"-colored Hershey bars on the right, and when it came down to cake cutting, everyone picked up their guess for a picture! That was simple and straightforward, so here's the picture!

Although most of my "Old Wives Tales" symptoms were skewed towards it being a girl, the great majority guessed it was a boy, and they were right! I was so happy that I could finally make the change from "it" to "he" when talking about my baby, and that I no longer had to be careful when talking about gender-specific subjects. You are very lovingly awaited, Emmett Beckham! 

Easy Peach Cobbler

My parents came and visited a few days ago, and along with the usual gifts that consist mostly of Mexican candy, they brought me a bag with a few extremely ripe peaches in it. They have about 3 or 4 peach trees in their back yard (along with many other fruit trees) and they always bring me some of whatever is in season. This time it was peaches, which by the looks of them had been laying on their counter for several days after being picked, because they were so ripe.
I thought I really wasn't going to eat them since too-ripe fruits gross me out a little, but I didn't want to be wasteful, so I made them into a peach cobbler instead. (Thanks, Pinterest.)
Here's what I used:
Filling: 

• 10 small peaches, peeled and sliced (about 2.5 cups)
• 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
• 1 tablespoon of ground cinnamon
• 1/3 cup brown sugar
• 1/3 cup white sugar

Crust:

• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 cup white sugar
• 1 cup milk
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup melted butter (1 stick)

Very ripe peaches, thanks mom.

Directions: 

1. Pour melted butter into 9 X 13 baking dish
2. Mix all dry ingredients for crust , then add milk and stir until it is well blended
3. Pour crust mixture on top of butter, and do not mix 
   
4. In a saucepan, combine all filling ingredients and bring to a boil, stirring constantly
   
5. Pour peach mixture on top of crust mixture, but do not mix together (leave layered)
   
6. Bake uncovered at 350 degrees for 45 minutes, or until crust is golden brown
   
7. Suggestion: serve with vanilla ice cream

I know these images aren't so great... I kinda suck at taking pictures, especially when I'm trying not to get my phone smeared with sticky cooking stuff, but the end result was deliciously gooey, just like it should be. This was by far the easiest "from scratch" dessert I have made in a very long time. Yum!

The Woes of Psychological Triggers

So I've been a little more absent from blog writing than I meant to be, especially with my goal of keeping a pregnancy journal and all. I am almost at the end of my first trimester, and several of my worst symptoms are becoming less uncomfortable as the days go on, therefore I can finally bring myself back to writing. Here's why:

During the first two-ish months, I felt so sick, congested, tired, and nauseated all the time that I internally came close to hysterics and secretly wished I was not pregnant and didn't have to carry this baby for a whole 9 months. I actually hated any thought that had to do with babies, and truly felt like the worst person imaginable, like a monster who wouldn't love her baby.
Time has passed, and so have several symptoms, and now I am clearheaded enough to realize what was going on... it was all in my head. For several seemingly never-ending weeks I associated everything that had to do with my pregnancy with the feelings of sickness, nausea, and overall disgust at almost everything imaginable. My usually very logical brain got it's butt kicked by a storm of hormones and could only make one (most irrational) connection:

baby things = bad, sick feelings

Yeah, I thought I was going crazy. I sort of was, a little... it was just a psychological trigger. For weeks on end the sight of the toilet, the kitchen trash can, raw meat, and eggs triggered something which instantly made me throw up. We have a vanilla-scented Glade plug-in in our bathroom, and I associated bathroom with nausea so much that now the smell of vanilla also triggers nausea... crazy huh? So the reason I've been away from my blog is that reading the words "The Prego Diaries" also triggered that sick feeling! It doesn't so much any more, so I think I can safely return to my writing and venting without endangering my keyboard with violent vomiting... hopefully. 

In conclusion, I am becoming more rational and less hormonal by the day, so I am assuring myself that I love this baby more than I can express, and that baby things DO NOT equal bad, sick feelings. That phase is almost over, thank goodness. Turns out I'm not a monster after all, I was just crazy. 

The Prego Diaries, Week 10

Pregnancy symptoms are weird. I have been testing a theory for the past few weeks and have had such successful results that it has now moved past the "theory" stage and I have now dubbed it "Damaris' Law of Bitter Regurgitation". This is how it works: If I haven't eaten in over 6 hours, instead of feeling the usual hunger and empty stomach, I feel extremely nauseated, very uncomfortable heartburn, an acidic stomach, and burping for no apparent reason. I then proceed to have a nice meal, and instead of feeling even more sick, I get almost instantly better and the nausea goes away.
I'm sure there's a very rational medical condition that causes this, but I don't feel like googling it and having WebMD tell me that I have esophagus cancer or something like that. So note to self: don't go hungry or else you'll puke stomach acid.

Alright, so on to other things....

• I am still craving Granny Smith apples, I eat one every day. 
• Meat is very hit and miss... sometimes I can stomach it, but it's mostly just gross, especially bland meat like chicken breast. Yuck. I only eat it when I can have other things to mix up the flavor... or in sandwiches because I love sandwiches. 
• New craving of the week: Roman noodles. I ate two cups of Roman (on two separate days) this week and I feel extremely guilty because they have no nutritional value. Luckily I only allowed myself to purchase 2 while grocery shopping, so I cut myself off already.
• I want spicy foods all the time, hence the Roman. Things that used to give me heartburn no longer give me heartburn (maybe we can blame this on the 1/2 Mexican baby haha).
• Energy levels are returning. I still sleep a lot, but I also feel jumpy and awake and I am always fidgeting during the day, so that's great! 

And onto a MAJOR complaint...

• breaghladkfaoigaosdkjf!!!!!!!! It's the end of the week and I'm sick and tired of being so sick and tired. NOTHING seems to appease this stomach. Everything I eat either makes me puke or makes me feel like there's a ball of yuckage stuck in my throat ready to come out. All I have to do is look at a toilet and *BARF*, half-digested food comes out. 
• And this is no commonplace morning sickness, no way. I actually feel great in the mornings because there's nothing in my stomach fighting it's way out. It's when I eat my first meal that everything goes downhill. I sure hope that my esophagus has some lining remaining after all of this is over, and it hasn't been completely consumed by stomach acid.

And onto baby things...

• During week 9 baby is officially a fetus (not an embryo), so yay her! 
• By week 10, she has working arm and leg joints and her vital organs are fully developed! Wow!
• She's also growing fingernails. Fingernails!!!
• Also, she can swallow and kick.... even though she's barely over an inch long. 

The Prego Diaries: Week.... 9?

I had my first ultrasound this Wednesday and I was told that baby is almost a week older than I thought she was! I was sure I was at 8 weeks, but according to the size, I'm at 8 weeks 6 days! (Nine weeks today, that I'm writing this post).

I cannot say that I particularly enjoyed the whole "first prenatal visit" thing, but seeing my baby for the first time sure made up for all the other discomfort. I got to see her size (2.42 cm) and see a tiny fluttering that was her heart. She even wiggled forward a little bit, at which point I exclaimed "look! she's moving!" and teared up a little bit, causing the nurse to give me a look that said only too clearly how much she wanted to roll her eyes. 

So prenatal visits... can't say I'm a big fan. We showed up at 9:30 am and didn't leave until 1 pm. I only had an apple for breakfast, so by around 11 am I was in the "hungry pregnant girl" stage of impatience and by the time we left I was like gremlin angry for food. Pair that with a urine test, a vaginal ultrasound, a pap smear, blood work, a breast examination, and a bimanual internal exam to measure the size of my uterus and pelvis and a grumpy, super childish husband that wouldn't stop complaining... ugh. I think I'd much rather go by myself next time. Needless to say I was pretty tired of getting stuff shoved into me, being poked and prodded, and having Phil complaining about HIS discomfort at having to sit and wait while chewing on Skittles and drinking Dr.Pepper. 

Luckily I do have a wonderful doctor... not only is she nice and understanding, but she's also a church member in my ward, so I see her every Sunday and she's always only a text away. Seeing my baby's heartbeat and talking to Dr. Nowitzky were definitely the silver linings of the appointment.

The Prego Diaries: Week 7 Shenanigans

I am sooo looking forward to next week's doctors appointment and see if she can recommend any new prenatal vitamins that don't make my stomach (and esophagus) so irritated and uncomfortable. I realized that I don't actually have "morning sickness", I just get sick when I take the vitamins and I'm ready for it to stop. They have the same effect if I take them with or without food, and at any time of the day. I keep having to tell myself that they are good for baby even if they feel bad for me. I did learn a lesson though: if I want to get any sleep, do not take the vitamins before going to bed, it will not be fun.

So week 7 stuff! This week baby is the size of a blueberry, just 1/2 inch in size. She's doubled in size since last week and will continue to do so for a while! She's generating 100 brain cells per minute, developing kidneys, growing arm and leg joints, and growing a more complex heart. Wow!
Here are some updates:

• The crazy hormone stuff is toning down a lot; on good days I don't feel pregnant at all because I'm not as bloated anymore. 
• The annoying jabs of pain in my lower abdomen (round ligament pain) that were so common in weeks 4, 5 and 6 are almost nonexistent now.
• I have started eating meat or craving things that have meat in them... but the idea of ground beef is still absolutely disgusting. I feel like eating all the time and my favorite food for this week is Frosted Flakes with bananas. 
• I really have to watch what I eat, or else I'll swell up like a balloon. I need to cut my meals by about half of what I normally eat or else I won't feel good for hours afterwards, and also throw in several snacks here and there. 
• I feel like eating pickles, jolly ranchers, blow-pops, and granny smith apples all the time. Anything sour or with some tartness will do. 
• I dread wearing jeans. I guess I got used to comfortable yoga pants, loose shorts, and sweats... which is pretty much the only things that fit now. :(

Sacrament Talk: The Joy of Repentance

I gave a short talk in the YSA Sacrament Meeting this past Sunday about The Joy of Repentance and I'm posting my talk in here so that a record of it is kept somewhere should I ever need it again.

Converts to the church are pretty lucky because they can always call on their “conversion story” whenever they are asked to give a talk; these are personal stories that are easy to tell, entertaining to listen to, and that much of the audience can relate to.

Although I am also a convert to the church, my conversion story is a little difficult to relate to because I was baptized when I was 10, so I was young enough to feel like I've been a member of the church my entire life. I do, however, remember my mom dutifully taking my brother and I to Catholic Mass every Sunday. I also have pictures of being baptized in the Catholic church when I was a baby, I remember the catechism lessons I had to attend so that I could have my First Communion, and I can probably still recite the Hail Mary prayer in my sleep. My parents had dutifully taught us all the biblical stories, and so when we first met the sister missionaries, much of what I learned as an investigator sounded familiar.

At the young age of 10, I did not have any difficulty believing in God, in Jesus Christ, or in the Holy Spirit. I believe that children brought up by goodly parents, as I was, are more in tune with the truth, and the existence of holier beings just makes a lot of sense. I also had no problem with the principles of faith and repentance and with the ordinances of baptism or receiving the Holy Ghost.

When I sat down in my very first primary class, one of my classmates asked me if I was a member or an investigator, but since I was not familiar with the Mormon lingo, I didn't know what to answer. Then she asked me if I was baptized, and I said “Yes, when I was a baby”. She responded “oh, you’re an investigator then.” And left it at that. I felt left out because, according to her, I wasn't baptized, even though I thought I was.

Learning about Joseph Smith, the golden plates, the Nephites and Lamanites, partaking of the Sacrament, the prophet Gordon B. Hinckley, the plan of Salvation, and Temples was sometimes a little confusing and too much information for me, but none of it sounded unreal. My parents were learning just as much as I was, and so I reasoned that if my parents believed that the Mormon church was true, then I believed it as well.

After we were baptized, we quickly became swept up in the whirlwind of activities that is the LDS life. In primary, I was having fun working on my Faith In God booklet on Wednesday evenings, and on Fridays we got together to prepare for an upcoming talent show. I made new friends at church and was always excited to see them, in fact, the girl who had asked me if I was a member during my first primary class remains my best friend to this day. My parents were welcomed with open arms into the ward as well. They were invited to FHE at a different member's home every week, my mom fell right into Relief Society and all of their crafting and sewing and cooking activities. My dad was called to work with the Young Men and never missed a Wednesday evening of playing basketball. And as a family we welcomed the sister missionaries for dinner at least once a week.

Today I was supposed to talk on The Gift of Repentance, and I was trying to remember a time when I was really in the wrong path and I had to repent and change my life around.... But I couldn't because there aren't many wrong ways you can live your life at the age of 10.

My family and I became so immersed in the Mormon culture that I have no recollection of ever making the big choice to repent and follow Christ, so I was a little stumped and couldn't find a personal experience to share with you today.

We are all familiar with the stories of repentance in the scriptures such as:

Alma the Younger, Mosiah 27

After causing destruction and persecution of church members, an angel of the Lord appeared unto Alma the Younger and the Sons of Mosiah and commanded them to cease their evil course. Alma was struck down and after two days and two nights he regained consciousness.

- repented of his sins and redeemed of the Lord

Enos praying far into the night, [Enos 1-6]

We also know the story of Enos, who prayed for an entire day and night.

-mighty prayer and supplication for his soul

King Lamoni, Alma 18 and 19

King Lamoni thought that Ammon was the Great Spirit, and Ammon taught him many things, including God, the creation, the fall of Adam, the scriptures, the rebellion of Laman and Lemuel, and the Plan of Redemption.

These 3 spiritual giants had a mighty change of heart, they had faith in the Lord and repented of their sins, and were born again. They had a definitive date of when their lives were changed and they sinned no more.

Although these stories are extremely admirable, I haven't been able to relate to them too well.

The BoM story that I relate to is that of the Lamanites mentioned in 3 Nephi 9:20. Here we have the voice of Christ speaking in the darkness, and he is inviting men to come unto him and be saved. Verse 20 reads:

20 And ye shall offer for a sacrifice unto me a broken heart and a contrite spirit. And whoso cometh unto me with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, him will I baptizewith fire and with the Holy Ghost, even as the Lamanites, because of their faith in me at the time of their conversion, were baptized with fire and with the Holy Ghost, and they knew it not.

They were baptized by fire and they knew it not...

That one small sentence sounds more like my story than any other. I was too young at the time of my baptism to really understand the great change I was making in my life, but it doesn't make my faith, repentance and conversion any less real. I too was baptized by fire and knew it not, but the process has been long, slow, and steady. Through almost 15 years of being a member of the church, I have had the joy of continual repentance and conversion unto the Lord, and this process continues still. Day by day I have moved closer to the Lord, mostly without realizing it. Each day has given me a new opportunity to repent and become more in tune with the Spirit and living my life how the Lord would like me to live it.

This, I believe, is one of the greatest joys of repentance. Not all of us will have huge, life changing events like Alma the Younger, Enos, or King Lamoni.... We might, but they are the exception to the rule. Most of us will become more Christlike throughout a lifetime of acts of service, church attendance, prayer, commitment, and daily repentance.

The joy of repentance is the joy of living the gospel day by day. We are in the middle of the plan of Happiness and we should treat it as such... Living life with happiness.

The Prego Diaries: Week 6 Shenanigans

This is the week I'll start taking belly pictures... mainly because today I discovered that some of my pants don't fit! What is going on here!?! Baby is the size of a sweet pea this week, how am I so fat!??

Ugh, crazy hormones, ya'll suck.

Just so it's noted, a week ago this outfit fit perfectly, no yucky fat rolls and stuff. These are my volleyball clothes almost every Wednesday, and my yoga pants are never this tight. Also, Holy stretch marks, Batman! I'm starting to look like a tiger! This is happening way too soon for my liking.

{Haha if I stare at this picture too long I start laughing because it looks like I have no neck. Anyway...}

So some things that are happening this week:

• Meat is absolutely disgusting. All kinds and flavors, even chicken which usually makes up 80% of my diet is gross, I cannot stand even thinking about it. Phil thought he was being nice several mornings ago and brought me chorizo & egg in bed. I didn't want to be ungrateful, so I forced it down and then threw it all up when I was brushing my teeth. Chorizo puke on my toothbrush = major yuckage. 
• As previously mentioned, some of my snuggier pants aren't too happy with me these days, they feel so tight! I dread having to put them on and usually opt for my exercise/yoga pants instead. Looks like I'll have to start investing in some more of those.  
• It is now the middle of the week and I am glad to report that the extreme exhaustion is slowing down some, I now have energy to do "normal stuff" like washing dishes and folding laundry without passing out as soon as I touched the couch. 
• I am also very happy to report that I no longer feel like puking every morning because I may have found the culprit: my prenatal vitamins. They're a little too much for my sensitive stomach and make me feel quite queasy after I take them. With the baby's interest in mind, I will continue taking them until my first Dr. appointment, and maybe then she can recommend different ones. 

The Prego Diaries: Week 5 Shenanigans

So far I haven't had any terrible pregnancy symptoms, but this week gave birth to some odd food cravings and repulsions.

• Strange thing #1: Sometimes the thought of meat disgusts me. I'm 95% carnivore, so this is totally unexpected. For dinner one night I made chicken thighs and vegetables, loaded up my plate, and only ate the vegetables. Weird.  
• Strange thing #2: Baby carrots. I ate almost an entire bag of baby carrots in one sitting. 6:30pm found me sitting on the couch, watching Hulu, crunching away. Maybe I was channeling the Easter Bunny. 
• Strange thing #3: Around 9pm one night I found a lonely, old grapefruit at the back of my fridge. I ate it, and for some reason it tasted like the most heavenly grapefruit I have ever eaten. I keep wanting another one. 
• Strange thing #4: Sam told me she craved things like cucumbers and mangoes when she was pregnant. By 4pm I had to make a quick run to HEB and buy mangoes. I was drawn to the pre-cut section and purchased a little tub of them. They were the greenest, hardest, most unripe mangoes I have ever eaten, and they were delicious and I gobbled them up like they were my last meal. 
  

My body has started to whisper "change is coming" in some subtle (and not so subtle) ways:

• Subtle Change #1: I smell smells that don't exist. I have gagged several times while walking by the kitchen garbage can, even though it's empty and (presumably) odor-less. Phil thinks I'm crazy. 
• Subtle Change #2: I get winded a lot faster. For the past 3 years I have taken great pleasure in playing volleyball for 2 or 3 hours each Wednesday. I usually don't feel tired until the last 30 minutes or so... but now I start struggling after 2 games. I will really miss playing. 
• Not-so-subtle Change #3: Boobs. Argh. Boobs hurt. Always. And they're bigger. And won't quit hurting. I can no longer run up the stairs or drive quickly over speed bumps. This sucks. 

The Prego Diaries: How To Spill The Beans

I have been daydreaming/planning on my pregnancy announcement for years now... literally years. We can blame Pinterest for that. I had tons of Pins and ideas, but in the end we went with none of the above and came up with an easier, more novel way. At the kid's section of Barnes and Nobel! 

It is suggested that we wait until 12 weeks so that we know the baby is in the 'safe zone' and there's less chances for miscarriage, but Philip wanted to tell his parents a lot sooner [I'm not even 5 weeks here!] and I thought... heck why not? Great news are meant to be shared. 

We asked Autumn, Philip's sister, to meet us at the bookstore without giving her any details, and then we broke the news! She's one of the first to know (besides my mom, of course). I chose some baby books and Phil chose to go the funny route (because, come on. he has to.) and picked "pregnancy for dummies". 

Picture taking took all of 15 minutes; I was trying to look cute and he was trying to look dazed and confused. I think it worked, haha. I plan to post these on Facebook tomorrow after he tells his family over Easter dinner. I can't stop looking at these, Phil makes the best faces. So excited!

         

         

The Prego Diaries: The Greatest News

I peed on a stick
And 3 minutes later
I smiled :)

Finally! Some of you may say...
I took a home pregnancy test on Friday, March 27th, and here was the result:

Aka: Totally Preggers.

The Story: This pregnancy test was no shocker, it just confirmed what I already knew. I was already 5 days late when I took the test, and since my body has been like clockwork ever since I turned 13, I knew what was up. This is totally a planned baby. After late-day-2 I felt like I should buy a pregnancy test, but didn't want to take one so early, and also didn't want to run the risk of running into anybody at Target while holding that little pink box in my hands. (I'm a big one for secrets.) So I went and ordered it on Amazon instead; two-day shipping is awesome. I figured that would give Aunt Flo a last chance to show up and keep this as private as possible.
So Friday night came, I got home from work, made dinner, ate it on the couch watching TV, and finally got my butt up to go shower. And pee on a stick. Those 3 minutes I spent kneeling with my head against the counter waiting for red lines to appear were the longest ever!
But then... that happened. And my whole world changed forever.

I am pleasantly surprised at the lack of symptoms... so far there has been no nausea, vomiting, weird cravings, strong repulsion to odors, or tiredness. I totally hope it stays that way, fingers crossed! Hopefully I'm like my mom: she told me she had zero uncomfortable symptoms throughout the entire 9 months, lucky her. I'm only just starting week 4, so there's still a lot of things that can come my way. I will sit and count my lucky stars that everything is completely normal so far.

                                             

Australian News: The Job Down Under

Alright, so to kick off this topic of a life of adventures, here's some news! Last week my hubby got a call from a company he worked for late last year... Remember the one that had him working in New Jersey and had me complaining because I only saw him for 5 days out of the month? Yeah, that one.
Apparently they are big on traveling. Philip was offered a 4 - 6 week job this summer in ... AUSTRALIA! {what gave it away?} He was crazy excited to tell me about it, and I am so excited for him! I am still not over how I didn't get to visit NY in December, so I am stubbornly refusing to stay behind this time.
DAMARIS. IS. GOING. TO. AUSTRALIA. One way or another, I'm coming too. There are a ton of details to hash out, but the plan is for me to fly out after his job finishes and us to vacation there for about a week. I'm super nervous already, and I know a lot of things can change between now and then, but hey... a girl can dream. Dream and plan obsessively.
It looks like I will actually be able to cross off my ultimate bucket list item: snorkel the Great Barrier Reef. Ahhh, can't wait!

Change is Coming...

Alright, so I've decided to tweak my blog here and there because I've fallen out of the habit of posting anything, and I'd really like to pick it up again. Some things are leaving and BIG things are coming, but it will be at least a month before most of them get published.
For now, we can say good bye to the following:

• the deal with dale : Work has become so routine and mind numbing that I really can't find anything funny to post about anymore, sad but true. Life outside of the office is still wonderful though, no worries. I'm a bit sad to let this one go, since it was the initial inspiration for blogging, but it's time to cut ties. 
• couponing : I know I sometimes get pretty excited about my shopping trips, but the fact is that I have gotten so proficient at couponing that it is now second nature and not that big a deal anymore. I have a continuously growing stockpile purchased with minimal out of pocket money, and no longer see the need to post things up. 
• Quote of the Month page : I love quotes and they are everywhere I look, so I think I want to change this page into something called In My Bookshelf. This will be a page dedicated to a book or books that I am currently obsessed with. No more than 5 at a time, probably. It depends on how booky I'm feeling. 

And we can welcome at least one new blog topic:

• a life of adventures : Ok so my life isn't that adventurous, it's gotten a bit boring, actually. But I do know that once in a while something crazy happens and I just need to write about it. Usually I'm living vicariously through my husband's work travels, but some other times I'm really doing something fun! Something tells me that 2015 is going to be a rather venturesome year. 

I know posts that don't have anything but words kinda suck, so I'm posting this picture to add some visual. It's the cover of a book of an author I recently discovered and fell in love with. 

Sleep Talking to an Insomniac

I haven't slept in two days!! Philip left a huge Monster energy drink in the fridge two nights ago and I did not have any self restraint. Ugh, I hate being so susceptible to those things. P has begun to work nights now, so I was awake when he came to bed this morning. I tried and failed to fall asleep, but my discomfort was not in vain; a funny "Sleep Talking" moment came of it:

Me: *sneeze!*
Phil: *jerks awake* It's a South American term!
Me: For what?
Phil: I'm gonna eat you!
Me: What did you say?
Phil: I said I love you
Me: What are you going to eat?
Phil: *is deeply asleep once again* 

I couldn't get anything out of him after that, no matter how many questions I asked. Still, funny stuff!

Targeteering Today

I've been eyeing some great Target deals all week, and finally got a chance to go to the store at 10:30 Saturday night, right before all these deals expired! Whew, just in time.

Here's what I purchased:

• 4 Bear Naked Granola, $3.29 regular price
• On sale for Buy 3, Get 1 Free
• Used 4 $1.25/1 Manufacturer Coupons
• Paid $4.87 total, or $1.22 each
• 5 Special K Bars, $3.49 regular price
• On sale for $2.50 each, buy 5 get $5 Gift Card
• Used 4 $0.75/1 Manufacturer Coupons from RP 3/8
• Paid $9.50 and got a $5 Gift Card, so $0.90 each

There was a $10 off $40 Target Mobile Coupon {text CLEAN to 827438} for certain household cleaning items, here's the breakdown of my purchases: 

• 1 Tide Pods 57 count, $14.99 regular price
• 2 Cascade Action Packs 20 count, $3.99 regular price
• 6 Febreeze Vent Clip, $2.99 regular price
• 1 Scotch Brite sponge, $1.09 regular price
• Total came out to $42.00 (I could have done without the sponge, but I was doing mental math and added it just in case I missed the threshold) 
• $10 off $40 Target Mobile Coupon
• 1 $2.00/1 Tide Pods Manufacturer Coupon
• 2 $1.00/1 Cascade Action Pacs Manufacturer Coupon from PG 3/1
• 3 BOGO Free up to $3.29 Febreeze Vent Clips Manufacturer Coupon from PG 3/1
• Cashier took off the entire $3.29 value even though they only cost $2.99
• Total for this deal was $18.13

My total after all coupons and 5% Red Card was $26.81 for over $75 worth of products! 

Things I Want To Make

A list of things I've always wanted to do, but never have attempted.

A list of things I will attempt to make in 2015. That's better.

1. String Art 
   
2. Lace jeans patch 
   
3. Bubble Quilt 
   
4. Paint Chip Art 
   
5. Origami Bookmarks 
   
    
6. No Sew Dog Bed 
   

So I'm hoping that by constantly looking at all these to-dos I'll finally be motivated enough to get them done. I had a goal to make a "big deal" craft or DIY every month of 2015, but so far I have about 3 unfinished projects laying around the house in varying states of distress because they aren't getting any attention. Come on Damaris, do something productive. 

Moving Furniture: A Need For Newness

     For the past few days, P and I have woken up to a rather horrible doggy smell all over our living room. I didn't know what was causing it until I saw just how often I was emptying out my vacuum, and then realized Venom must be shedding. Ewww. Dog hair everywhere. Literally everywhere. 

     As soon as I got home yesterday I began a vicious attack on every surface in our living room, set our air purifier to working overtime, and lit some scented candles. As often is the case, as soon as I started cleaning, I couldn't stop. I vacuumed, and vacuumed, and vacuumed. Then I single-handedly moved our extra-heavy sofas and my book-packed shelves and vacuumed underneath those. I ripped the covers off all of our sofa cushions & pillows and threw them into the washer, and then vacuumed some more until my faithful little Dyson could go no further. By the time P arrived home from work, everything we owned was out of place... but it was clean.  

     Our extra-heavy sofa ended up against a different wall, so rather than push it back to it's original location, I voiced the idea of leaving it be and rearranging everything else. P seemed creative and willing to help, so after much shoving, pulling, doorway maneuvering, and Hulk-like roars, we got everything in place. And it feels wonderful. I know it's the same old stuff we've always had, but something about new layout and the clean state of everything just invigorates me.      I was almost sad that I had to leave the living room and go cook dinner while P wrestled the sofa covers back on, and that we only had 1 hour of sitting in our "new" living room before it was time to go play some volleyball with our friends. Isn't it great what a small change of scenery can do? Here are my thoughts on why it's a good idea to switch things up a bit now and then:

• Ergonomic opportunities. I've been living in a semi-annoyed state for an entire year because our previous setup didn't have any surfaces for us to place the TV and Xbox remotes, so they were always lost between the couch, or tossed on the floor. I couldn't get P to ever pick them up, so now our set-up is such that there is always a table close by, no matter where you sit. Yay for more neatness.
• Breaking the habit. Oilfied jobs are going downhill these days. P has been home A LOT in the past month or so, and I had grown tired of coming home to him laying in the exact same position on the same couch every day. Thankfully, he now has a job... and a couple of other options of where to sit should he ever have that kind of free time again. 
• The "New" Mentality, without the price. You know how when you buy a new car you try extra hard to keep it clean and fresh and don't-you-DARE-eat-a-hot-dog-in-here? Same principle. I'm excited to just sit and enjoy my living room because it feels new, but it's really just my same old stuff. I want to keep it looking neat, keep the cushions off the floor, and rearrange the pictures on my walls. Above all, I'm downright happy that I created such an atmosphere so easily. 

Please Hear What I Am Not Saying

A short time ago I had a deep talk with a friend and I opened up about many things that were troubling me. This person thanked me ardently for speaking up and allowing them to help, and they said "when I see you, I see a person SCREAMING inside and nobody listening, and I'm glad you finally opened up and told someone about it." 

I didn't realize my emotions showed up that much... I suppose I'm not as masked as I thought I was.
Anyhow, those words remind me of a poem I once read, and I wanted to post it up here so that I don't have to go hunting it down again later. It's very powerful, please read:

Please Hear What I'm Not Saying
Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear
for I wear a mask, a thousand masks,
masks that I'm afraid to take off,
and none of them is me. 

Pretending is an art that's second nature with me,
but don't be fooled,
for God's sake don't be fooled.
I give you the impression that I'm secure,
that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without,
that confidence is my name and coolness my game,
that the water's calm and I'm in command
and that I need no one,
but don't believe me.
My surface may seem smooth but my surface is my mask,
ever-varying and ever-concealing.
Beneath lies no complacence.
Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness.
But I hide this. I don't want anybody to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed.
That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind,
a nonchalant sophisticated facade,
to help me pretend,
to shield me from the glance that knows. 

But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope,
and I know it.
That is, if it's followed by acceptance,
if it's followed by love.
It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself,
from my own self-built prison walls,
from the barriers I so painstakingly erect.
It's the only thing that will assure me
of what I can't assure myself,
that I'm really worth something.
But I don't tell you this. I don't dare to, I'm afraid to.
I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance,
will not be followed by love.
I'm afraid you'll think less of me,
that you'll laugh, and your laugh would kill me.
I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothing
and that you will see this and reject me. 

So I play my game, my desperate pretending game,
with a facade of assurance without
and a trembling child within.
So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks,
and my life becomes a front.
I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that's really nothing,
and nothing of what's everything,
of what's crying within me.
So when I'm going through my routine
do not be fooled by what I'm saying.
Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying,
what I'd like to be able to say,
what for survival I need to say,
but what I can't say. 

I don't like hiding.
I don't like playing superficial phony games.
I want to stop playing them.
I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me
but you've got to help me.
You've got to hold out your hand
even when that's the last thing I seem to want.
Only you can wipe away from my eyes
the blank stare of the breathing dead.
Only you can call me into aliveness.
Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging,
each time you try to understand because you really care,
my heart begins to grow wings--
very small wings,
very feeble wings,
but wings! 

With your power to touch me into feeling
you can breathe life into me.
I want you to know that.
I want you to know how important you are to me,
how you can be a creator--an honest-to-God creator--
of the person that is me
if you choose to.
You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble,
you alone can remove my mask,
you alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic,
from my lonely prison,
if you choose to.
Please choose to. 

Do not pass me by.
It will not be easy for you.
A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.
The nearer you approach to me the blinder I may strike back.
It's irrational, but despite what the books say about man
often I am irrational.
I fight against the very thing I cry out for.
But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls
and in this lies my hope.
Please try to beat down those walls
with firm hands but with gentle hands
for a child is very sensitive. 

Who am I, you may wonder?
I am someone you know very well.
For I am every man you meet
and I am every woman you meet. 

Charles C. Finn
September 1966

Sleep Talking

Last night I was reading in bed and Philip fell asleep next to me. He didn't seem to mind the light, so I stayed up a little later than what I usually do. When I decided it was time to sleep, this is what happened:

Me: lets book fall off the side of the bed *loud thump!*
Phil: ninja-jumps awake and sits straight up
Phil: "My fifteen minutes for tomorrow are up!"
Me: "Your fifteen minute break?"
Phil: "Yeah, my break is up!"
Phil: falls back onto the pillows and is instantly asleep

It was pretty hilarious. I bet dropping my book woke him up and he thought he was sleeping during his break at work, so he jumped awake. Today, he remembers nothing.

It's Bedtime When It's Bedtime

Apparently small children are not the only ones who get crabby when they are ready for bed, 25-year-olds do so too. 

P and I got home around 12:30 last night and this was our "conversation" as he was parking.

Me: Those stupid annoying people,
 with their stupid annoying leaf blowers,
 got stupid annoying dirt on my car this morning.
 I paid $10 for a car wash yesterday. Now it's covered in dirt.
(..... paused for air.....)
Our stupid annoying neighbors better not have their stupid annoying music on tonight or else I'm gonna grab that cat and throw it through their window.
Philip: Man babe, it's time for you to go to bed.

Me:

Walgreensing

I ran out of my favorite shampoo yesterday, and that's a BIG DEAL for a couponer/stockpiler like myself, so I had to do something about it today.

I am not usually a Walgreens shopper (I find their coupon policy confusing) but a new store opened up in my hometown and last week's newspaper contained a coupon for $3 off any $10 purchase valid at that particular store, so I thought, heck, why not? 

I perused online couponing sites for Walgreens deals and found some great prices on Scrubbing Bubbles this week, so that's what I went for (in addition to my shampoo, of course). 

Here's the deal breakdown (it's a bit confusing, so it takes extra typing to explain it all):

This week's ad has a points booster: spend $30 and receive 5,000 Balance Rewards Points from 1/11 to 1/13. This must be reached before manufacturer coupons but after sales and store coupons. 

Scrubbing Bubbles products have several promotions:

• SB Bathroom Cleaners = Buy 2, Receive $1 Register Reward & Buy 3, Recieve $3 Catalina 

•  SB Fresh Brush Starter Kit & Caddy = Buy 1, receive 3,000 Balance Reward Points

So here are my purchases: 

•  2 Suave (Shampoo&Conditioner) 28oz
• $3.99 each, regular price
• Used two $1.50/1 mc
• 2 Finish Power Ball Dishwasher packs
• $5.29 each, regular price
• Used two $2.15/1 mc
• One Scrubbing Bubbles Fresh Brush Starter Kit
• $7.99 sale price through 1/31
• Received 3,000 points
• One Scrubbing Bubbles Fresh Brush Refill, 12ct
• $3.50 when you buy 2 sale price through 1/17
• Used one FREE Refill (took off $4) wyb Starter Kit (coupons.com)
• One Scrubbing Bubbles Bath Foam Cleanser
• $3.50 when you buy 2 sale price through 1/17
• Used $1.00/1 SB Bath Cleaning Product (coupons.com)
• Received $1.00 Register Reward (Buy 2)
• Received $3.00 Catalina (Buy 3 products)
• Additional Coupons:
• Used 5,000 Point Booster Coupon in ad
• Used $3 off $10 purchase Walgreens coupon

Total Before Coupons: $36.57

Total OOP After: $18.something

Credits for next purchase: 5,000 points ($5) + 3,000 points ($3) + $1 Register Reward + $3 Catalina = $12 total

$18 - $12 = $6 Overall for 7 household items :)