Jan 3rd

Ugh.  Yuck.  I absolutely HATE being pregnant.  It's the worst of the worst.  And I will definitely not be doing it this way again.  This way being 'newly pregnant' in the winter.  It's already hard enough being normal when the sun goes down at 5, add in some pregnancy exhaustion and I am constantly counting the hours after naptime to when Handsome Husband will be home.  I thought I looked at the clock a lot in high school.  It doesn't even compare to what it is now.

Found something else that I NEED for Alaska's birthday bash.  Check this out - http://caravanshoppe.com/product/birthday-trimmings-poster-pack/


SO CUTE!  Right?!  I am doing it.  It's a steal of a deal considering I can use the same files for 4 kids.  Yeah, I know, what am I saying.  We still have two more pregnancies to go before I can call this era of life done and over.  Let's all pray I am blessed with a pregnancy of twins, only because I think triplets would be praying for a little much.

I've been doing a lot of thinking and I do believe it is to be just as painful to pop them out one after another as it would be to wait a couple of years between.  So... why not make it hurt bad and get it over with if it's gotta hurt, right?  The only con I am coming up with right now is what happens when they all four get married the same year?  Who's paying for those weddings?

Ok, and I am also on a pregnancy rant because I was looking around in pinterest and ran across this bane of a blog - http://www.annasaccone.com/search?updated-max=2013-12-19T01:20:00Z&max-results=2&start=4&by-date=false

Who can't take a freaking break with all the !!!!! at how awesome it is to be pregnant.  Makes me want to barf, which I already felt like before even sitting down at the computer, which is why I am at the computer and not mopping the floor.  Which is why the floors haven't been mopped in two months and just today I stepped down on something sticky and the day has come when someone is going to have to man-up.  And it isn't going to be me.

And also, I decided, I am the worst ever, most miserable person to be around when I am pregnant.  I just don't give a cheeze-nip about anything.  Things that used to make me mad now leave me feeling like, "Oh well, get comfy." and things that used to make me happy are now like, "Crikies.  I don't have enough energy for that!"  And things that used to make me laugh and smile or all like, "Get that look off your face before I slap it off"  And being nice to people??  Don't even make me come out of the house, because that aint happenin'.

I am remembering it all now.  The 9 months we lost in Farmington from making friends and hanging out with people because I very honestly could not stand it.  And now the same thing is happening here.  Another reason I should have all 3 more babies asclosetogetheraspossible is because then we can maybe just make one last move where I am the anti-social snob and leave everyone there looking after us in a "I can't believe that woman calls herself a mother" kind of way instead of spattering 9 months here and 9 months there, ultimately ruining this move and two more before I can get my party on.  9 months of people wondering, "Where in the world did that wonderful family go that just moved here a few months ago?

Jan 2nd

We do things a little backwards around here.  When Alaska takes a bath it's after breakfast and a soggy night-time diaper.  We wait to do hair until after nap because two hair-dos in one day can be tiring.  And why do hair if we're just staying home?

I LOVE Valentine's Day.  I love the feel good "I love yous" and the pink and red and the glitter and my favorite used to be decorating Valentine boxes for school.  Planning Alaska's birthday party for this month will tide me over for Valentine's.  So glad I have a little girl who doesn't mind if I use lots of pink on her special day.  Someday that will change, but for now, it's a pink day.

Things to get:
party hats for her, guests, and her little friends (I should call them the dynamic trio.  When we have to round up the specials for naptime and bedtime I can more often than not find them all together having a joyride in the baby stroller)

cake or cupcakes.  Still not sold on either, but I figure while pictures and cuteness are the priority we need to use it to our advantage.  As opposed to some yummy food and games for teenagers and building memories out of birthday craziness when the cake can be slapped together with some frosting and sprinkles because it won't be the crowning jewel of the event.

balloons - pink with curly ribbons to tie to chairs

birthday outfit.  Every girl needs some ruffles to wear.

It was been a quandery as to when we should do our birthday party, but after a look at this list, we should definitely do a day when I can be at home and gathering everything up.  I'll send out memos for Friday, the 17th.

New Years

January 1st.  Time for resolutions.  Except for the fact that I don't like making resolutions when it's so cold, dark at 5 and wet.  Worst time ever to say, "Hey, I think I'll start exercising every day."  Or "Hey, I think I'll start eating my vegetables and fruits again"  Let's just not.  That stuff needs to be saved for the spring.  Especially if said exercising and better eating will induce weight loss.  Who needs weight loss in the winter when you're wearing long sleeves to cover your arms, jeans to cover your legs and a cute scarf to distract from any growing belly?  No one.  Carry on and eat more left-over Christmas goodness.

But you know what I am going to do?  I am going to start writing.  Every day.  For myself.  Funny thing, though, is that it's not so much fun to make a good story if no one is around to read it.  And also, another funny thing, is that writing doesn't do a person much good if they can't write what they're feeling because someone may just read it.  Huh.  I'll take the audience and if the audience doesn't like where it's going, they can skip it.

Last night we had a party.  We watched Wreck it Ralph (not that good, but there have been worse) with Alaska.  She sat through all but the last 15 minutes.  Win!  We ate pizza and drank soda because everyone knows it's that combination that makes a true party.  We were all finished up by 7:00 and since it was dark outside and we've had a couple of late nights the past week we called it a day and put Alaska to bed.  I stayed up reading An Abundance of Katherines by John Green.  Also not that good, but when you're reading everything by said author, you gotta read everything!  The other three books I have read by him have been stellar, I am letting this one slide.  I predict it will take a week to get through, the other three I read in a couple days each.

Got bored with reading around 8:30 and went to sleep.  Steven stayed up looking at gun stuff.  'Cause that's what boys do, I guess?

This morning Steven went up to his parent's house to shoot his gun and came back down when it was time for us to go to the church for a game of volleyball.  AND THEN I find out he didn't even do any shooting!  3 hours and no shooting and no spending time with me.  Makes me REALLY mad.  AND THEN he leaves early from the volleyball game to help his dad with tires (which is fine, helping out is awesome, but I don't like how it couldn't wait another hour) AND THEN he takes off to go shoot his gun again.  I am so mad I don't even care and I say, "Two hours" which turned into three and now I am mad again.

It's just 1) the volleyball game was his idea 2) I didn't really want to go 3) He leaves first and 4) I have to be with Alaska all day, all by myself.  Sucky.  Tomorrow will be better.

Baby Barnes #2

Well... we're pregnant!  Yay.  It has been a couple of really miserable months.  Alaska knows how to stand by me and flush to toilet each time the heaving lets up a little to get the smell out.  And she knows to pull some toilet paper down for me to blow my nose afterwards and knows that if there's nothing in the bowl but I am still bent over it to come around behind me and rub my back.  'Cause she's got a good dad to show her how to do all those things.

They say you forget about all the bad of pregnancy by the time you have another.  You don't.  My first time bent over the toilet I cried.  I wasn't ready for this to all start again.  The sickness.  But it was what our family needed.

I am only hoping that it goes away soon, rather than lingering like it did with Alaska.  It's easier for me to count the days that I don't throw up than the ones that I do.  And that's been going on for a month a half.  I have to eat every two hours or it gets unbearable and I puke.  By the end of the day I am tired of eating, tired of making things to eat and tired of thinking of things to eat.  Because the other tricky thing about pregnancy is if you eat something that you don't want to, it usually finds it way back up regardless of when I ate it.

It's officially unofficial, though.  Because I don't want to tell people and then have them asking me when the due date is, when will I know it's a boy or a girl, blah blah blah because that means doctor appointments and I haven't even had one yet.  So... yeah.  As long as there is no doctor appointment it's still unofficial and my time counting down until the birth-date can't happen yet.  I want the biggest head-start possible.  With Alaska we managed 13 weeks.  They wanted to do an ultra-sound to make sure she was progressing as much as she should be, etc. by the time we got in there and they were able to tell us she was a girl right then.  That wasn't all that bad.

I have already started to notice that I think I am showing.  Perhaps I am just parnoid and I feel bloted a lot of the time, but I am pretty sure my waist has thickened considerably, even if there's not a bump unless I have just eaten.  I feel comparable to a boa constrictor.  A huge ball in my belly as soon as I eat something and nothing as soon as it's gone.  But it is dang obvious.

With Alaska I was still just barely, barely showing at 20 weeks.  The kind of showing you could do without sticking your belly out just a little.  My muscles were tight, keeping her in, this time, not so much.  My clothes already feel like they are wearing me, instead of me wearing them, and I am dreaming of the day I can slip into my pregnancy pants to even out the muffin top that has already started to appear.  That's a sad, mature grown-up wish.

Mysterious Veggie Plate

It baffles me.  You think you know.  And then you don't.  Like so much of life.  Too much of life.

I have decided my signature "I'll bring the..." will forever be veggie plates complete with ranch dressing made from greek yogurt.  It's a crowd pleaser and something I feel comfortable bringing as more and more people are coming out as gluten free and less carbs and more healthy stuff, please!  The people-pleaser in me, I suppose.

Rummaging through thrift-stores is an all-time favorite hobby and I picked up a most excellent crystal vegetable tray.  A little more rummaging produced a little bowl for dip that more often than not is being used for cereal when all of our bowls are dirty.  Even now, I use my pampered prep bowl for dressing because it has a lid that fits snug and guarantees no surprise ranch-messes in the trunk upon arriving.  No one seems to mind the the center of my vegetable trays holds tomatoes or olives more often than dressing.

It's not super often that I get to pull the crystal platter from its home among the other things we don't use a lot, but you gotta have, like pitchers and trifle dish.  But when I do, it gets a good use.  This past week I used it twice, and you know what?  I am so confused!

I took it to my parent's house for thanksgiving loaded up on all colors of the rainbow.  The only thing eaten?  The celery.  Thanksgiving dinner was delicious and there wasn't much room for something that probably should have been served as an appetizer instead of the spinach dip and bread.  But the celery got munched on as people's plates winded down and needed just a touch more.

Took the exact same plate to a Young Women event, and what do you know?  The only vegetable left was the celery!  Everything else was dipped and eaten.  It is so weird to me.  Had I known, I would have had less celery and more of something else.  But I didn't know there would be such a difference in opinion over a vegetable plate.  Proves that vegetables are not all equals.  I did find it interesting, though, that as I gathered up vegetables that are often found on veggie plates, there were more vegetables than I remember as a kid.  Which must mean that I am becoming more aware of what's out there and how to jazz up your ordinary plate.  We don't use cauliflower as a filler around here, that's for sure.

One of Those Awesomely Horrible Days

It's been one of those awesome days.  The kind where Alaska Paska was the biggest punky in all the world, short of the kid who throws a tantrum complete with kicking and screaming.  We obviously haven't been working on our shopping etiquette very much since moving back to Oregon where it takes 40 minutes to get anywhere note-worthy.   Note to self, we need to work on this so that she can shop beside me before this baby comes.

A lady at Walgreens today asked me if I got my boots locally.  Her granddaughter would love a pair.  "No, I got them at Macey's."  The man next to us chuckled and says, "You'd have to shop pretty hard to find something local around here."  Meaning, if you don't like what WalMart of FredMeyer has to offer, you've got a little bit of a drive to look forward to.

I knew Barnes and Noble would be the hardest store to take her in, especially since I left the mini-stroller at the house.  That meant it would be her and her two hands up and over everything.  It had to be our first stop.  Before she became The Punky that we all know and love.  I needed my Alaska Paska.

It didn't go well.  We did get out with only one time-out and one run-away moment and one 'crying 'cause you're holding my hand' moment.  Pretty good that the numbers didn't rack up higher than that.  But I was a haggard mess by the time we left.  I didn't feel well enough to be stretched to any kind of limits and had definitely over layered in layers that were impossible to take off without losing my dignity.  Like a jacket covering my ugly sweater and a scarf to bustle out the front so that the high neck of my ugly sweater couldn't be seen, as well.

We stopped at two more stores, both with carts that she refused to stay buckled within and though I had a list a mile long, I was done.  You couldn't pay me to take her grocery shopping.

Got home just in time for a nap and I puked into the toilet.  We had to have a white elephant gift and a favorite Christmas treat to share for our party that night.  I dropped Alaska off at her Grandma's and pretended to know what I needed.  I fell back on chocolate for our white elephant gift, you can never go wrong with candy.  I wasn't entirely sure of our group, whether gag gifts were going to be ok and all that.  Always tricky playing with different groups of people.

Too sick to make a treat to share, thought I could take spinach dip.  Found it and looked around for some pre-sliced bread.  I didn't even feel well enough to cut bread!  Couldn't find the bread and instead I bought a plate of 7-layer dip that looked like it had been sitting around for a couple of days and a bag of chips.  No shame.  I took it and it was eaten.

The party was a success and it was fun.  Gag gifts were definitely invited, although you gotta have the good gifts to make the gag gifts even more horrendous.  The worst, a knit your own bikini kit.  It was hillarious and hideous.  Most likely will be making a return next year.

Setting Boundaries

I have had a lot of time to think.  Lots of time to reflect on things that are most important and how to live a healthy life without regret or doing things I say 'yes' to just because 'yes' is easier than, 'no thanks, no interested.'

It's just something that has come naturally, after seeing a counselor, I have one more appointment and I will be 'cured'.  Almost cured?  Almost the person I was a year ago.  A few scars that still need fading, but for the most part, I've got it back.  And I am so grateful that I got up the courage to get an appointment and even went through with it as I saw the people smoking 'just outside the premise' because smoking isn't allowed within the premise.  And I kept going as I passed the couple of haggard, greasy haired people at the front door and even pushed forward past the high school boy who very well was a foster-child and has had a rougher life than I could even imagine.  Pushed past it all and spilled my guts, even if my guts were more thought out and organized and 'smaller' than most people's problems who were there my first day.

My counselor asked me what I was taking away from this 'almost last' appointment and I think I got it.  I got the greatest gift a person could be given.  I told her, "I don't feel so broken anymore.  I can see the progression and the growing that has happened."

I wouldn't have seen that if I hadn't enrolled in counseling.  I would still be fuming with disappointment that I wasn't what I was before.  I wouldn't have been able to look at the progression that I have made, but would always be sitting on the pavement looking towards the stars and their light that I used to hold and be frustrated that I wasn't there.  But having gone to counseling, I accepted out-loud that I was sitting on the pavement.  That it was cold and not where I wanted to be.  And slowly I began to pick myself up and give myself the wings that I need to get back to the stars.  Instead of always being frustrated about where I wasn't, I could sit back and watch the progression as I became again what I wanted to be.

My current homework is still setting boundaries.  Something I have had problems with since the beginning of time.  Doing things that I don't really want to do.  But saying yes because nice girls say yes.  So instead of saying an automatic 'yes' to anything and everything, I have to say, "Let me think about it" even if I know after I think about it, the answer will be yes.

And I have two victory stories to tell about sticking to boundaries and comfort zones!

1) We are living in a low in-come apartment complex and out of the 8 apartments that make up our block only three people have a car.  We are one of those three and I am mostly home and I get asked for rides often.  Someone asked for a ride and I was extremely busy getting ready for my first bazaar.  I had my hours limited and was counting them down like precious seconds.  I told her I could give her a ride in a couple of hours and she was all like, "Oh, well I think I'll just walk, then."  I was fuming mad.  But felt rightfully justified in a, "I said no" kind of way.  I had felt bad about not making her problem an emergency when, to her, it wasn't even an emergency.  I am so weird.  But she's weird to.  Asking someone for a ride would be my last step in solving a problem, when for her it was her first idea.  It's a crazy world we live in.

2) I had a Pampered Chef party set up.  I didn't want it.  I didn't want the perks that came from setting it up.  I didn't want to worry about people showing up or not showing up.  I didn't want to plan a party.  I didn't want any of it.  But I had said yes because it was the logical thing to do.  So, I took a big breath, and I told the lady I didn't want to do it.  I cancelled it before it was even an event.  That is something I never before would have dreamed of doing.  I like to think that I am responsible, and if I say 'yes' than you can bet it will happen and get done.

Something I have learned and become bolder in over the past few months is watching out for myself, feeling the tension inside me rise, and listening to the worries that wake me in the middle of the night and taking them by the throat and strangling them rather than letting them haunt me until the day of.  I have become more inclined to listen to my inner well-being and stand up for it rather than being the girl who can conquer anything.  I've been that girl.  And she doesn't get much credit.  So if it doesn't hurt, I am going to slip out every once-in-awhile.