Con Troll

Hm. I may have just experienced what the kids these days call an 'epiphany'...or at least a slight kick to the frontal lobe that has me thinking about things.

I was recently reading a friend's blog post on the birth of her new baby girl. She talked about their birth plan, which was incredibly detailed and specific. I felt a momentary twinge of guilt. When I was pregnant with Eli I never once even thought about a birth plan or course of action when labor hit. I knew I wanted drugs, I knew I was going to be in a hospital, but that is about where it ended.

Pondering on this I thought maybe it's because I'm ok with things being out of my control. That's not to say that people who make detailed plans and have very specific expectations for things are control freaks or any other pejorative phrase. I greatly respect those in my circle who are detail oriented. I just have never been like that. I seem to thrive when a a bit of chaos is present. Not too much, mind you, but just a little.

I think that's one reason epidurals and pain medication makes so much sense to me when thinking about labor. I don't have to plan anything really. I can leave it up to someone else to get things going and get the pain managed. It's probably also why I really do get a bit of a rush flying standby when I travel. I never really know what is going to happen but the decision on whether I go or not is left to a system, not to me. It's as close to gambling as a little Mormon girl like me can get.

I do love organization, don't get me wrong, but I also enjoy situations that are unplanned and unpredictable. I probably will never have a detailed birth plan when I have a baby because there are so many thousands of variables that come up I just would rather let things happen and go from there. I will probably never be the type of mom who can manage to remember every single item needed for a successful trip to the pool, beach, park, ect. (mostly because I am so scatterbrained) but at least we go, right?

Re-reading what I wrote here this all sounds like self justification for disorganization. Let me just sum up by saying I do believe very strongly in plans and forethought, but I also love when things go differently (in most situations) and life takes me by surprise. Ugh. Now I just sound like Oprah.

Harvest

I'm laying in bed resting while Eli naps. I'm not quite tired enough to sleep, so I thought I'd put some thoughts I've been having lately in writing.

I have a little garden in the back yard. It's small, just a few tomato bushes and a sprawling zucchini plant, but it has been a lot of fun taking care of it thus far. Last week I was out pulling some weeds and I noticed four or five little green tomatoes poking out from the screen of green leaves. I was thrilled! To be honest...I sort of forgot that what I was working for; actual harvest.

That made me think about the relationships I have in my life. I think sometimes I treat life a lot like I treat my garden. I work really hard on the maintenance parts of things, the diaper changing, the counter wiping, the budgeting and church duties, that I forget that I get to harvest at some point.

Let me put this in perspective. Eli is a lot of work. I could spend all day (and have) tending to my Eli garden, just doing the necessary things to keep him alive. Many times I have to remind myself that I need to harvest. I need to sit down with him, play a game, go to the park, or just give him a hug. There's no sense in having a garden if you don't ever gather the fruit!

This analogy may seem corny (no pun intended!) but I really do think I forget so often that life is meant to be more than just a series of weeding, watering, and pruning. We are meant to harvest! Sometimes the harvest comes later, and the maintenance is essential, but the fruit can be so sweet.

Those are my ramblings for today.

*Cue Circus Music*

***I wrote this last night but Blogger was being a pill and wouldn't let me post it.

Ok...I know two posts in two days is a bit excessive. But I would be remiss if I didn't eulogize the events that transpired today. In retrospect they are almost too horrifyingly comical to be real. But believe you me...they were.

Enter Eli...stage right. He woke up at a nice 8:30 thank you son. That was about the only thing positive he did for the day. First item of business: orange juice all over the carpet. That wasn't so bad. I cleaned it up and fixed us some breakfast. Breakfast ended up all over the floor. Cue the dog. That wasn't so bad.

As I was cleaning up from breakfast somehow I managed to whack my hand against the bookshelf in our kitchen. A few muffled profanities later led to the discovery of a massive bruise and some nasty swelling just below my thumb on my left hand. Lovely. Ice.

After nursing the hand a little energy kicked in and I decided to deep clean my kitchen. 2 hours later and things were shiny. Unfortunately all my cleaning brought back the nausea that had subsided during the morning. I had a really good day yesterday and I over did it. After two or three offerings to my favorite porcelain god I put Eli down for a nap and laid down myself. 30 minutes later he was up. Bad nap day. Headache commenced. Went to get Eli out of his crib only to find a massive poopy had erupted.

At this point I called my dear friend Katie. Katie is wonderful. She came over and helped me. No. She came over and saved me. She made me lunch, made Eli lunch, took Eli out for a walk while I napped, and helped me clean my living room...which was buried in toys and wrappers and what-not. Dinner was spaghetti and meat balls, but spurred the second bath of the day after Eli painted himself in sauce.

Ten minutes later I noticed an odd smell...a bad smell...coming out and around my son. Then I noticed poop...massive amounts of poop...coming out of his diaper. So much poop. On the carpet, on the chair he was sitting on, on him. I grabbed him, Katie grabbed stuff to clean the carpet, I dry heaved a few times, put Eli in his 3rd bath of the day, and we started the reparations.

Ten minutes after poop-agedon Dan came home. I was almost crying, Eli was sobbing, and Katie was still cleaning the carpet. Dan got Eli's pjs on and took him with him to run Katie home. I sat down for the first time in a few hours and thought about making a run for the hills. But I was too tired. So I decided to bore you all with this epic post.

That was my day. Here's to better days tomorrow.

(Crawling) Out of the Woods

Well...since I have absolutely nothing else interesting going on in my life I thought I'd give a little update on this whole baby making mess I'm in. It does seem like things may be getting a little better...yay! I can't tell if I'm just living with it better or if I'm actually feeling better. I still have zero energy and get super sick at night but mornings and afternoons are getting better. At 11 weeks now, I'm hoping things clear up sooner than they did with Eli..which took until a good 16 weeks to get feeling %100.

I do, however, have another strange problem that maybe someone out there can help me with. When I was in labor with Eli I remember feeling the most intense brunt of the pain in my right hip. It was a searing deep pain that wouldn't go away during the contractions. Now pregnant again, I've started getting pain in the same joint. It's so bad that I wake up two or three times a night in intense pain that won't go away. I haven't taken anything for it, mostly because I'm pumping myself so full of Zofran right now I hesitate to add any more chemicals to the mix, but I really need to find a solution. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning I have to limp around for a few hours because of the pain. Could it just be the baby is getting bigger? I don't remember this little jewel with Eli at the beginning.

That is my whining for the day. Other than the constant reminders of baby, life is going very well for us. Eli is the funniest little thing. I can't get enough of him...unless I've had too much of him...in the which case Dan takes him for a walk.

A Few of My Favorite Things

I've been so caught up in myself lately what with all this being sick and what-not that I really need to spend some times focusing on the good things in my life. Last night Dan asked me how I was feeling and it hit me that even though I may temporarily feel like crap, I am so blessed with so many things health and life related. Here is a short list of all the things I am thankful for right now, in no particular order.

*I have the best husband in the world. He really has shown his true colors these last few weeks with me being down and out. He cleans, cooks, changes diapers, and most of all takes care of me with so much love and thoughtfulness that I quite often feel very undeserving.

*Eli is a stellar kid. He is the bright spot in every day. I can't get over how independent and smart he is! Each new day brings a new trick, a new skill, or a new word. Man I love that little guy.

*I am thankful for a wonderful place to live. We really do have it good here. We have a great back yard, a lot of usable space inside, and good neighbors.

*I have been so amazed lately to find out once again that I really do have the best friends in the whole world. These last few weeks we have received so much service, so many calls, and so much love. Good friends are what make living in Utah County so much more tolerable for me.

*My faith. Yesterday I was unable to attend church and Dan had our home teachers come over and bless the sacrament for me. I am so very grateful that I have the power of the Priesthood in my home. I feel it daily. I am thankful for my Savior who bore all trials and knows all suffering. I am thankful for inspired church leaders who continue to give poignant and needed counsel. I love the peace the gospel brings into my life. I love the comfort of the Holy Ghost. And I love that I can be with my family for eternity.

*Last, I am grateful for my parents. They are so dear to me. Last week they came down and spent all morning taking care of Eli and cleaning the house. I constantly amazed at how much energy and love they share with all their children. Life is so much better when they are around.

That was mostly an exercise in pulling my head out of my shirt and seeing how much good there is in my life. I have so many blessings. So much love in my life. Now onward and upward to happier times and calmer tummies.

Whining.

Cat's out of the bag. I'm with baby. Bun in the oven. All that. I am not, remarkably, handling this one well. I know I am not a tough woman. I cry when Eli gets hurt, I tear up at stupid movies, I voted for Nader once, but this whole pregnancy dealy has brought out a level of wimpiness I did not know I possessed.

Eli was a hard pregnancy. I remember being sick, I remember certain instances of close calls and feeling icky. But I do NOT remember it being this bad. In one week I have lost 7 pounds and counting. I've already had to go get an IV once and will probably have to go again soon. Every day is a massive challenge. I can't get out of bed, usually puke once or twice when I do, and have a hard time even getting off the couch when I finally make it into the living room.

All this would suck, but what I feel the worst about is how much I feel I am not giving to Eli right now. He's such an independent little guy that I can lay around and he pretty much does his own thing. I feel sometimes that the only time I interact with him is when he does something nefarious. I need to figure out a way to really interact with Eli while I'm down and out. It's hard because he isn't really a lap sitter or a cuddler. Mostly we watch Sesame Street and he plays around the house by himself.

Oh well. I guess three or four months of a dead beat mommy can't scar him for life, can it?

On Mothers

****I wrote this post about a week ago but hesitated posting it because I thought it sounded self-serving. Then I realized that my mother's entire life has been spent serving her children...so there's no way to write about her without writing about my own life. Also, I can't find a good picture of her...will find one later.***

There hasn't been a good decision I've made in my life that wasn't the direct or indirect result of something my mother taught me. For any of you who have met my mom, and I pity those who haven't, you know she is indeed the most mothering, nurturing, caring and loving woman you will ever meet. I was fortunate enough to be born at the end of my family, and therefore had a lot of one on one time with my mom over the years that I cherish now more than ever. As this Mother's Day approaches, I pay a brief recap of the lessons my mom taught me through the years.

My mom taught me, when I was in elementary school, to learn how to fight my own battles. I remember coming home on a few occasions seething because something another student or a teacher had said. My mom would always listen, and offer counsel, but she would never intervene. She taught me that I needed to stand up for myself, but also to consider where other people were coming from.

In jr. high I started having problems with the church. I rebelled in the usual ways, ditching seminary, hooking up with dubious youths, talking on the phone at all hours. My mom was very patient, never yelled, and just loved me. I knew I could tell her things, even when I was sure she wouldn't like what I had to say. She was the driving force for me when it came to rebuilding my testimony. I remember hearing her pray for me and my siblings, seeing her love of the scriptures and the gospel, and the reverent way she always spoke of the Savior. This drew me closer to the Spirit and eventually led to my reactivation.

In high school my mom was there on the front row for all my choir concerts and plays. She murmured not as she watched some of her favorite clothes walk out the door to get used as play props...some never to return. She drove me to early morning diving practice and reminded me that modesty was always the best choice. She sewed costumes, attended young women activities, and baked cookies for my gaggle of cohorts. I guessed that secretly my friends wished she could be their mom.

As I headed off to college I took my mom with me, at heart. My first few years I went home almost every weekend. All I wanted was to sit at the kitchen table and talk to my mom about all that had happened that week. My mom was always available. She was always ready to talk. I told her about boys I was dating (not all the juicy details...she was still my mom...) and about classes I was taking. She listened, offered advice, and followed up on past counsel. She was truly my greatest ally.

The first letter I received in the MTC was from my mom. It made my very sad and lonely day so much better. I struggled in the MTC but my mother's comforting and motivating words through her letters kept me going. She wrote every week, and quite often it was the only letter I got. I read some of those letters a while ago. She was always so positive, so reassuring.

Now that I'm married and have a little guy, my mother's advice and counsel has become all the more valuable. I'm often amazed at how someone 42 years older than me can offer such contemporary and relevant input. She knows what I'm going through usually before I do. Recently she called me and said, "Roby, I couldn't sleep last night because I was worried about what you will do if you get pregnant and have Eli running around. That sounds like too much." After all these years, her children still keep her up at night.

My mother is a mother through and through. The years of advice and counsel have been invaluable, but I've learned more in what she has done than what she has said. I've watched her take food to sick neighbors when she herself has struggled with health problems for years. She taught me through example that when a person loses a loved one they like to talk about it, and need people to listen. She has loved those who are hard to love, cared for the difficult, and reached out to those who most have turned away.

This Mother's Day, I pay tribute to my mom, and to all the other women who have influenced my life. Thank you all for being examples to me. Thank you for listening, for talking, and for being friends, sisters, sisters-in-law, nieces, aunts, cousins, and most of all, for teaching me how to be a better woman and mother myself. Happy Mother's Day. You deserve it.