Strep and Vomit and Flooding...Oh My!

Everyone I know has been sick or is struggling with being cooped up in the house and just ready for spring. I have to admit, that's exactly where I am. I am so sick and tired of bad news and illnesses and all the CRAP (literally) that has come our way the last few weeks. I am trying to keep my chin up and stay optimistic, but I swear, there is only so much one mom can take. I keep thinking there must be something I am supposed to learn here but still haven't because it seems like the same cycle repeating itself over and over again. Grr...

Yesterday Dylan started complaining that his ear hurt. Well, a week after his cold symptoms set in, I thought for sure it was an ear infection. I had Anthony over so I scheduled an appointment that afternoon when Anthony would be gone. I've done that before....three kids at the doctor's office is OVERWHELMING when you're alone. About an hour before Anthony left, Dylan came running down the stairs, "Mom, something just happened to my ear. Something is coming out of it. It hurts, Mom. It sounds like I'm talking out of my ear instead of my mouth." I like the way he describes things. I looked and couldn't see anything, but I assumed his ear had ruptured and was glad I'd scheduled the appointment. Thankfully Marcos got home in time and was able to come with me. I was completely SHOCKED when he didn't have an ear infection but tested positive for strep. CRAP! No wonder my stupid throat hurts. I assumed I was just so worn down from so many hard days in a row and this cold that doesn't seem to go away, but that made WAY more sense. At least the timing worked out and I was able to call in before my clinic closed and get an antibiotic for me too. Wa-hoo!

After dinner, Dylan went up to the bathroom and a couple minutes later started screaming. The toilet in the boys' room has been running nonstop. I don't know how else to explain it. You know, the water keeps kind of trying to flush and you have to jiggle the handle to stop it. We've been meaning to call someone, but right now, we are trying to make due. Things are tight and we still have no idea what the tax return is going to look like. It's been a rough year! Anyway, the toilet was overflowing and water was EVERYWHERE! It took all the towels in the linen closet, some plunging (I don't know if he used too much toilet paper or if this was a disaster waiting to happen) and a bunch of messing around with the parts in the tank to get the water to stop flowing and clean that mess up. HONESTLY!

By the end of the day, I was feeling really sick. You know the feeling - tired, achy, like you swallowed a golf ball. And of course it was Thursday so Marcos had a soccer game. Timing always seems to suck. He helped with baths and then I started reading to the kids when he left for his game. I tucked them in on time and decided to ignore the talking and giggles since I couldn't send Dylan to school in the morning. As long as they didn't get out of bed, I was going to go relax and ignore it. Well, Preston's giggling soon turned into a coughing spell, which ended in his losing his entire dinner - all over the bed, sheets, and carpet. Gross! Pregnant, strep throat me did not want to deal with vomit, but what was the choice. I stripped Preston down, put both kids in my room with a movie and started the clean-up process. Seriously, it took a good 45 minutes to clean everything up and then I had to let the room air out. It was a disgusting combination of vomit, lysol and carpet cleaner - a little too strong of a smell to let linger.

Thankfully both kids eventually drifted off in my bed and I just carried them to their beds after everything was settled. I was so grateful to just rest after that. I had to wash all the towels (we literally used them all to clean up the plumbing mess) and then wash Preston's bedding an hour later. It was all I could do to get that much done. Tylenol really doesn't touch a sore throat so the only relief I could get was possibly sleeping it off. Dang it! Anyway, thanks for reading. I just wanted to document another crappy day. Some day I'm sure my kids will appreciate knowing life wasn't all dreamy and perfect. This is real life, baby!

The Bread-Making Incident

You'd think I make these stories up, but nope. They seem to be a regular part of motherhood. Today I decided to be productive. I got up, got Dylan off to school and was all set to make a double batch of delicious homemade wheat bread. The plan was to keep two loaves and give a couple away. We have a couple WONDERFUL neighbors who have been giving Dylan a ride in the morning and my heart-felt thank you is LONG overdue. Anyway, I was going to be super mom. I was ready to get my bread going, play with my darling Preston, clean bathrooms (it's Tuesday and so far I was still on my "cleaning" schedule for the week) get dressed and then head down to my grandma's house for a much needed visit. I had Preston next to me helping count the measurements and dump in ingredients. If you missed the post a few months ago, my mom gave me her old school bread maker that still works like a charm. So occasionally I bust out the machine and make some homemade bread. Anyway, I don't know much about making bread, but our recipe calls for mixing all the ingredients except the flour and then adding the flour one cup at a time until it is the right "stickiness." So we mixed all the ingredients and then turned the machine on low while I scooped up each cup of flour to add to the mixture. A few cups into the process, I dropped the stupid measuring cup in the bowl and the disaster began. First, a big blob of flour and goo jumped out of the machine and hit me right in the eyeball. With one eye shut tight, I reached for the switch to turn the machine off. Even though I got the switch, the hook still rotated around several times and each time it hit the measuring cup, it kind of jumped out of the bowl a little spewing gobs of liquid bread goo everywhere. I kid you not, it was like a geyser.

I ran over to the sink to take care of my eye that now felt like it was glued shut. Once I could see again, I stepped back to assess the situation. Let me just say it was NOT pretty! There is no possible way to do justice to this story. It was the biggest mess ever! Thankfully it was bread though (right, Lau? :) My sister-in-law had a poop incident recently that makes me want to die!) I should've been mad, but I could only laugh at the whole thing. I mean, really, are you kidding me? By that time, Preston had his stubby little fingers in the flour and was shaking the powder off his hands making an even bigger mess. I guess after witnessing this he figured throwing flour was a completely acceptable activity. But he had the biggest smile ever! I couldn't help but laugh at the sight of both of us in this gooey kitchen. I was going to dump everything, try to clean up and give up on the bread, but decided I'd finish the batch and see how it turned out. I had no way of knowing how much "stuff" had been lost so I really had to judge the amount of flour by feeling the dough. But the good news is, I did end up with four pretty good loaves of bread.

Let's just say that bread goop with only a few cups of flour in it is REALLY sticky. And then it hardens just like a loaf of bread if you leave it out. The stuff was EVERYWHERE! It leaped across the room to the refrigerator, covered the counters, walls, pantry door and floor and even managed to make its way to the ceiling. My utinsil holder was covered so every wooden spoon, spatula and spaghetti scoop I own needed to be washed. I finished the bread, set it out to rise and started at the top of the kitchen. I figured everything was a big mess so I just let Preston pretend to "do the dishes" while I was cleaning so he would feel helpful. Kids love playing in water and his making a mess was the least of my concerns. :) I guess I should feel grateful. I don't think my cabinets and walls have been washed so well in years. By the time I got to the floor, Dylan was home from school. It took me 2 1/2 + hours to make bread and clean up the big fat mess I made.

I tell you, this stay-at-home mom business is not for sissies. Give me an office job any day and I will be fine - I can go in early, stay late, work hard and tackle any project, all while helping build office comradery. But put me in a kitchen with children standing by and you never know what you'll get. Sorry Marcos, I'm doing the best I can! :) Actually, I will NOT apologize to him today. I tried to get some sort of empathy from him for that many hours of what I consider to be HARD LABOR and he said something about not feeling bad for me for cleaning up a mess that I made throwing flour all over the place. Oh no, you did not just say that! He is so on my list! :)

These pictures do not do it justice, but they were all I could manage to get with sticky hands and no place to set a camera, not to mention attempting to keep Preston away from the mess while I cleaned.

You gotta LOVE this kid! He thought the whole ordeal was a fun adventure.

The flour on my face after I washed most of it out of my eye

Goo and flour all down my pants (thankfully I was still in pajama pants)

My shirt

Yep, that is really how I looked for a good three hours today

You can kind of see how the goo is everywhere - the counters, cabinets, utinsils, microwave, etc

I know it blends into the tile, but it was EVERYWHERE!

I had to scrub the grout with a scrub brush to get the stuff loose

It really was such a mess! I can't believe I didn't manage to get a picture of the pantry door. It was covered from top to bottom. That door alone probably took me 45 minutes to clean!

Stroke of Genius...

...(a.k.a. spiritual guidance). If you read my previous post, you know we had a bit of a rough week. So sick kids didn't help, but relatively speaking, sick kids was not a big deal. We had croup one week, which was caused by some virus that both the kids ended up getting and by the end of this next week, Preston had developed an ear infection and Dylan had an eye infection. Thankfully very easy to fix with an oral antibiotic for Preston and antibiotic eye drops for Dylan. Here's the bad news. Dylan is quite strong and really determined and the idea of eye drops makes him a little crazy. The first attempt was less than pretty. Marcos even came downstairs asking what was going on during the ordeal. I ended up having to straddle him with my legs tight to his body so his arms couldn't move and holding his head/prying his eye open with my left hand while I put drops in his eyes with my right hand. And he is a pro at stalling so I'd get close to giving him a drop and he'd turn his head quickly and yell, "Mommy, mommy, can I tell you something? I just have one question." Poor kid.

For some reason Dylan has recently become completely obsessed with Star Wars. Why? I don't know. Don't mock, but I can honestly say I missed that whole Star Wars thing growing up so I know it wasn't from me. I'm fine with Star Wars, but I'm just saying, there was no coercion from the parents. I'm guessing it was older cousins and friends who like Star Wars that peeked his interest. Anyway, we borrowed the old VHS tapes and have started watching them together the past week. With Preston being sick, he took a couple naps this week so I'll be honest, I ended up dosing off during most of the movie, knowing Preston was sleeping and Dylan would be totally occupied.

I was trying to figure out a better method for the eye drops, other than possibly needing this to be a two-person job when it hit me. I know it sounds lame, but I really think it was some type of spiritual guidance. I stopped suddenly and said, "Dylan, what was the name of the bad guys on Star Wars again?" His gigantic fit came to a screeching halt when he looked at me with his answer, "battle droids?" "Yeah, that's it. Battle droids," I said. (I really didn't care what they were, I just wanted him thinking about the bad guys.) Here's how the rest of the conversation went. ME: There are battle droids inside your eyes right now and we HAVE to get rid of them. Anakin is in there too trying to fight them, but he needs his light saber. And the light saber is inside these drops. DYLAN: Mom, Anakin already has his light saber. He just needs the force. ME: Oh yeah. Well, we need to get the force to be with him. See this bottle with the force? DYLAN (with much more enthusiasm than I expected): Yeah, I do mom. Okay, we'd better send in the force. He laid down on the ground and put his hands behind his head while I quickly and gently lifted his eyelid and dropped in the eye drop. He kept his eye shut tight for a minute while he talked about killing those battle droids and then opened the other eye for his second drop. He shut that one tight for a minute and then hopped up, thanked me for giving Anakin the force and proceeded to do some killer fighting moves with his pretend light saber.

Marcos walked down the stairs halfway through the procedure and could honestly not believe his eyes. Could this really be the same person who had physically fought me just hours before? It's amazing what a little creativity will do for this child. Not all children would respond this way, but for a kid like Dylan, it was MAGIC. Never underestimate the power of imagination. It really works wonders!

Peace

I couldn't figure out what to call this post. I hate whining and complaining all the time, although I never tire of reading other people's "hard day" posts. I guess it makes me feel more normal. But, although not an optimist by nature, I try hard to make lemonade out of my lemons, especially now that I'm a little more mature. But sometimes things can hit like a ton of bricks. And let's be honest...that is never a good thing when you're pregnant and hormonal.

Wednesday I had a really chaotic day. It was basically one of those days where so much was scheduled that I literally did not have time to do one extra thing. I even had to have Marcos pick Dylan and Kambrie up from school because one of my "meetings" could not be rescheduled. I won't go into detail here but let me just say it was a humbling day full of eye opening experiences. Not fun, but probably necessary. And then of course after the crazy day, it was still Wednesday so I had to squeeze in YW that night. Actually the YM had a really fun combined activity of human foosball. Although I took a crazy hard hit a few times, including one right in the eyeball, I survived the night and even enjoyed the experience. But at the time, it really was all I could do to get my butt there and not be teary-eyed the whole time. It was what I thought was a pretty hard, kind of bad day. You know the kind, phone call to my sisters complaining about my hard life. Nothing big, just a bad day.

That was until Thursday hit. Then I realized how truly grateful I was for Wednesday and wished I had taken advantage of it. It was another way too scheduled day. Not on purpose, just stuff I'd scheduled way forever ago, forgotten about and scheduled something else on top of it. I ended up having two meetings and some assessments/tests for Preston that didn't go quite the way I'd hoped. It's pointless to talk about right now because more than anything the whole day just brought up more questions than answers. I don't know if you've followed our little saga with Preston, but the kid has had a million things we've had to check up on - ever since he was born. We've been to quite a few specialists, but thankfully everything has been pretty mild and manageable. But still, just a pain. It's really an emotional process to hear that you need to take your kid to a specialist for this, that or the other. Maybe I just handle things with my kids poorly and get WAY too emotional. It's very possible that again that's what we are facing. I guess the problem is knowing something is probably wrong (although I'm still hopeful) but not really knowing what. And knowing that the range of possibilities is so wide and varied that it could be quite manageable or it could be more on the scary side. Again, I won't go into detail because right now everything is speculation and truly is UNKNOWN but it was a super hard day. I dare say one of the hardest days I've had in close to three years. I literally cried for 7 hours at the thought of what we MIGHT be dealing with. Holy crap! I promise I will talk about it more when we know more, but I am having a difficult enough time wrapping my brain around all the of possibilities that were given to me.

I ended up talking to a couple friends and a few family members about my day. More than anything, I just had to talk about it. Yet I couldn't really deal with it so talking just made me cry more. It was HORRIBLE! One of the people I talked to was Lisa, my best friend since clear back in high school. She has been through some trials with infertility and is facing her own set of unknowns. It's not my story to share, but it's on her blog here if you want to read more. Anyway, she was telling me about how she was able to go to the temple twice this month while they were in LA and how much it helped her. Her husband was on call the next day so she suggested we try to meet halfway (she lives in Spanish Fork) and go to a temple session together. Marcos agreed to watch Preston and Anthony's dad was taking Dylan for the night so it was set.

We ended up meeting at the Draper temple and hitting the 7:00 session. I tried not to think too much about the trial before me and just concentrate on the temple itself. It was honestly so great! I guess it helps when you go to the temple with an actual purpose. It wasn't one of those "this is what you should do" or some other direct inspiration that I received, but it was complete peace. The "now I'm crying because I feel so at peace not because I'm scared" type of feeling. Obviously I've had the gift of the Holy Ghost for quite some time now (8 years old was a long time ago), but it never ceases to amaze me how powerful that gift really is. I mean, to go from a state of complete stress to overwhelming peace during the relatively short amount of time in the temple is nothing short of miraculous. Am I still really nervous? Yes. Do I worry and think about it way more than I should? Probably. But it doesn't change the fact that I know the Lord knows who I am and how I feel. And for whatever reason, this is something we are going to have to pass through. Whether it's super serious, mildly serious, or (fingers crossed) not as bad as we think.

It was a great "girls' night out" if you call it that. We had our temple experience and then went to grab some yummy soup and paninis at Zupa's. They closed and we ended up chatting in the car until 1:00 a.m. Whoops! We had a lot to catch up on though. ;) Anyway, for what it's worth, I am eternally grateful for great friends and family who are understanding and know what I need and for the peace that being close to our Heavenly Father brings. If only I could ALWAYS remember that...

Adventures in Motherhood...Happy Valentine's Day!

I'm warning you ahead of time, this is not for the faint of heart. There will probably be way more details in this post than you want to read. Then again, since I was so sick the past few months and pretty much all but neglected this poor blog, there aren't that many people following closely anyway. I am going to get it up and going again though. Because I read a friend's Valentine's blog post about how much she loves her blog and it made me really miss mine. Sad, but true. It somehow makes my day to share my life and think others care enough to read and comment about it. Even when the thought of what I'm sharing scares me a bit. So I'm on a quest to get my readers back, private blog or not. :)

So Preston caught some bug. I don't know what it is...cold related I think. The whole congested, coughing bit. He went to bed fine and woke up in the middle of the night with the worst case of croup he's ever had (and that's saying a lot). I had a steroid pill left from our last croup experience that I gave to him in a bite of ice cream and put on a movie hoping to distract him until it worked. In the meantime, we took him outside all wrapped up in the freezing cold air to help open his windpipe and then I ran hot water in the bathroom until it was slightly steamy in there. Oh man, we are good at the whole croup drill! Even with all my so-called croup expertise, I ended up spending a good couple hours at the doctor's office. He just couldn't breathe well enough. Turns out, he needed more steroids to open up his airway. He's a big boy, it was really closed off, and we only had one pill left. Middle of the night adventures with the pregnant lady are not fun. I was a complete mess the next day.

Which brings us to part 2 of this brilliant adventure. I'm guessing the steroids were the cause of the next part. Poor Preston was so constipated and I just didn't know how to help him. He was in such pain and crying for me to help him. We tried 2 suppositories that evening/night and nothing. We ended up just putting him to bed. The next day, we had another couch potato day. Can I tell you how guilty days like that make me feel? But I could feel a cold coming on as well so I was not at my best: tired from missing part of a night's sleep, completely stiff with horrible knots in my back (I don't know if I need a new pillow or what) and well, just a mess. So, I let the kid watch TV hoping he was getting over whatever he had caught a few days before. He seemed FINE! Dylan, Marcos and I were watching a movie together that didn't interest him so I put "Go Rocket Ship" (a.k.a. Little Einsteins) on for him in my bedroom. That stupid TV has been a big source of debate in our house, but I have to admit, when I have sick kids, it's nice to have a TV in there and just let them lay in there and not be completely in the way. Part way through our movie I hear him coming down the stairs, "Mommy, I pooing. I need to go uuhhh (think of a grunt-that's how he describes it) Can you change a bum?" That means he's already pooped. So good. Let's go change him. I sent Marcos since I was still feeling lazy and tired, but ended up running when I heard screams.

So here's what we think happened. (Here's the part you may want to avoid reading if you're feeling at all squeamish). The kid pooped, but the first little bit was pretty hard. A few hard marbles (again, we think probably because of the steroid pill/shot because he doesn't tend to have this problem). He was laying on the bed and they must've bothered him because he reached in his diaper and pulled them out. We found three marble/golf ball-sized poops on our bedroom floor. Okay, pick them up, get out the carpet cleaning stuff and clean it up. Marcos took Preston in the bathroom and pulled his pants off and put him in the tub, which is when he realized both hands were covered in poop. EW!! I went back to the bedroom to do some cleanup, but with my cold settling in my sinuses, I don't currently have the keen pregnant sense of smell that I have had lately. I couldn't tell what I was looking for, but soon looked up to realize the true disaster. After he pulled out the source of his discomfort and threw the "crap balls" on the ground, he was grossed out that there was poop on his hand and he wiped it all over our dry clean only bedspread. NICE! So I switched Marcos jobs and went to clean up Preston while he and Dylan took the comforter over to the dry cleaner.

I know this is super long, but these are the stories I have to remember some day. Here's the part that makes me remember why I LOVE being a mommy. Dylan rushed into the bathroom, curious as ever, to figure out what was going on. When Marcos pulled Preston's pants off and started to clean him up, Dylan grabbed his pants. Marcos quickly reacted thinking he was going to get all dirty, but Dylan was calm and sure of himself. He took the pants, put them in the sink, turned on the cold water and started rinsing off the pants. Oh my word! He replied to Marcos' slight freak-out simply by saying, "I'm just helping, Papi." I went in to take over bath duty and Dylan ran to get a black garbage sack from under the kitchen sink and helped Marcos put the bedspread inside. Then he put on his shoes and went to the dry cleaners with Marcos. Marcos said he ran in ahead of him and said, "We need some help here with our bedspread." So dang cute! When they got back, I had washed all the poop off of Preston and then ran new clean water for him to bathe and play in. I was just watching him while he splashed around just happy to be alive. When Dylan got back in, he walked into the bathroom, realized Preston wasn't washed yet (his hair wasn't wet). He stepped onto the side of the tub so he could reach the shelf with the soap, got a squirt of baby shampoo and proceeded to bathe Preston. I didn't say one word. I just watched in awe. When that kid wants to be helpful, he's a super star! He finished bathing him and rinsed him off without a word so I decided to push him a bit more. "Do you want to help get Preston ready for bed?" He replied with an enthusiastic, "Sure." He got him out of the tub, dried him off, helped put on his diaper and put his pajamas on. All with very little help from me. Hmm...this could be really good timing. His helpfulness might peak at the perfect time for a new baby to join our family. :)

Of course this story is mainly about disasters so I'll finish with the rest of what happened this week. We ended up taking him to my niece's birthday party. He had been fine for two days (minus the constipation problem) and didn't seem sick at all. No fever, no cough, nothing. So of course we were shocked when we got home that night and he came down with a fever. SERIOUSLY! I hate that so bad. When you think your kid is fine and they really aren't. Sorry to expose people at the party to whatever crap Preston just caught. Grrrr... So we ended up needing to deal with the "Sunday swap" again. Marcos had meetings in the morning and had to take care of stake releasing and sustainings in our sacrament meeting so he took Dylan to sacrament meeting and came home during Sunday School so I could go back for YW to teach my lesson. Holy cow! Sick kids just throw everything off. So the couch potato moments continue. I think he's just got a really bad cold coming on (I'm guessing that because of my sinus pressure that is quickly becoming major congestion but who knows).

So that was our week. That is why very little took place this year for Valentine's Day. We ended up letting Dylan deliver a couple of valentines in an attempt to help Preston fall asleep in the car and just drove around little neighborhoods quietly talking while he slept. But I guess that's the comforting part to me. I have a husband who tries to be helpful (it doesn't always happen, but his heart is in the right place). One who will go up to change the poopy diaper. Yes, he screams when he realizes there's a disaster, but at least he was willing to change the diaper in the first place. Now that's true love! And even though it's a lame, romantic holiday meant to get people to spend money on pointless things, I still wanted to give a shout out to my Valentine. I don't know where I'd be without you, Marcos. You really are the love of my life! I love you from here to Argentina and back again...till I die and forever more!

This is BEAUTIFUL!

I loved this too much not to share it. I have watched it over and over and it makes me cry every time. It really is powerful and touching. I saw it on my friend's blog, who saw it on another blog. It was made by Katherine Center.

It's a . . . .

...GIRL!

Yesterday was a long, crazy day. I got Dylan off to school, super excited that he was getting new crayons and then he remembered we were going to the doctor. He said, "Oh, I really hope it's a girl!" For some reason he just really wants a sister. For his sake, so did I. And I didn't dare hope for a girl because honestly having a girl scares me a little now that I feel like I'm a pretty good boy mom, but part of me definitely thought it was a girl. It's just been a WAY different pregnancy than my other two, which makes you wonder if that could be why. My body does NOT like any extra amounts of estrogen apparently. :) Anyway, I dropped off Preston to my sister-in-law, thinking I'd be back in 1 1/2-2 hours max. Nope! It took 2 hours just for us to be seen. Sorry Amy! Too many crazy doctor emergencies that morning. And I would've rescheduled, but we'd built ourselves up so much to thinking we might find out that I couldn't do it. Marcos and I sat there in the waiting room working on Sudoku puzzles. Thank goodness I brought something to entertain us! Anyway, my midwife finally came in our room to see us and busted out the ultrasound machine. What a roller coaster. First she thought it might be a girl, but she didn't have a good view. She measured the head and a bunch of other things and then went back to it. Both Marcos and I were sure we saw boy parts. And so was she. She said, "Actually, I think that might be a boy." But let me look to make sure. I just can't seem to get a good view. The baby's head was facing my spine so there was a lot we couldn't see. We had more of a view of the back and side than the front. AND the baby had its feet and legs folded up right by the bum. So the position was weird and the baby was not cooperating. Anyway, she finally went all the way to the back as far as she could (clear over by my left hip) and could get a decent view. To me it still looked like nothing. I was as confused as can be. I just kept saying, "So should we not tell people yet because if we really don't know, I don't want to be telling people that we think we know what it is." She finally stopped, looked at me and smiled. I was confused as ever and said, "What?" "It's a girl." Still the skeptic, I said, "Are you sure? I really don't want to be making stuff up if you can't see very well." She looked 2-3 more times and said, "Yep, it's a girl." "Really? Are you sure?" My midwife is so cute. She finally said, "Well, if it's not a girl, I owe you one year's worth of diapers." Oh man, talk about changing my mind. Now I secretly hope it's a boy. I mean, a year's worth of diapers. That would be awesome. I was totally teasing and said, "Can I get that in writing?" Sure enough she wrote on one of her prescription pads that if it's a boy, she owes me a year's worth of diapers. So either way, I am thrilled. We're either having a girl or we're getting free diapers. Both are great! I'm still in shock and trying to digest what it really means to have a girl, but I'm sure at some point it will be like anything else. I won't know any different and won't remember what it was like not to have a baby girl. I am super nervous though. Marcos is a pushover. And for a little girl! We are in SUCH big trouble. That girl is going to have him wrapped around her finger before she's even born. :)

Feel Free To Skip This Stupid Whiny Poor Me Post...

I apologize in advance for my complete negativity today. And I'm sorry to post it out there for all to read, but I want to remember (and my kids to know) that everything in life isn't fun and joy and loving and playing with your kids. Some things are difficult inner battles that we all must face - like it or not.

I think I've got my needs and wants mixed up. Okay, not really, but my "want" list somehow keeps growing. I don't know if I'm struggling with the whole "Thou shalt not covet" commandment or what, but sometimes it's hard to watch everybody around you get new nice things all the time and just wonder when you will be in a position to do so. I guess depending on your point of view, people could say that about us. Have you ever gone to dinner with someone and had them pick up the tab for you? Even when you were expecting to pay for yourself. As generous and helpful as that is, I guess it hurts my pride a bit. I always pictured being the one able to offer to pick up the tab for the entire table and I hate that we aren't that family. It's probably for a reason. I'm sure the Lord knows me better than I think I know myself and maybe money really would go to my head, but I like to think that I would be such a giving, generous responsible person with my money that no one would begrudge me for even having it.

Even as I write this, I seriously am considering not publishing it. I sound like the biggest ungrateful, whiny person ever. But it's true. It bugs me. I hate living paycheck to paycheck. I hate that things never seem to add up no matter how careful I try to be. I hate watching how hard my husband works and knowing how valuable he is to his company (and boss and coworkers) and yet realizing that he has chosen a field that will always undervalue and underpay him for what I consider to be not only a good work ethic, but his God-given talent. I hate the internal battle that I have with myself every day trying to decide when and how to go back to work so that we won't always feel so strapped. It makes me crazy! We are still trying to catch up from all the unexpected "August disasters" that we were "blessed" with. AND...we have a swamp cooler that is literally falling apart. Two of the four legs are completely rusted through and every year Marcos has to baby that thing to get it going again. Our hope was that we could put in either a new swamp cooler or central air this year (my secret desire, but I was trying to be okay with whatever we could afford). Truly we can't afford either, but we're hoping the tax return is decent enough to give us some leeway.

Marcos' family is going to California for spring break. We are fortunate enough to have a house to stay in (courtesy of some friends of Marcos' mom) and are trying to get a good deal on a couple tickets. Plus, we're all eating together and splitting the cost of meals, so all in all, it is going to be a really great trip that is quite affordable. But being affordable and even being in our budget at all are two different things. We didn't feel like we could pass up an opportunity to take a trip together when so much of the vacation is going to be taken care of for us, but still. It's not like we've got that money sitting in the bank. Like I said, we're still trying to catch up from expenses that caught us off guard 6 months ago. So between the payments we HAVE to take care of and the upcoming trip, I'm pretty sure there will be no tax return left. Hmm...anybody have any great hookups on air conditioners?

Maybe I'll play the pregnancy card now. I'm sure I'm feeling much more negative because my stupid hormones are making me even more emotional than normal (heaven help us all!) And even though my nausea is getting a bit better, I have these crazy hormonal headaches that never end. I go to bed with one and wake up and it's still there. GRR... Or maybe it's a combination of everything. Money seriously stresses me out. I like to know there's plenty in the bank. I'm a saver and a frugal conservative type by nature so just getting by is definitely not my style.

Maybe I'm just overwhelmed in general. This Young Women's calling has been a blessing to me. It really has. I have gotten to know some amazing women working in the YW organization and am really enjoying my time getting to know the girls better. BUT...YW is a dang busy, kind of hard calling to have. Instead of being able to just love and teach the girls, there is always a "to do" list that never seems to get smaller. That's how a lot of callings are I suppose. Marcos feels the same way about his. He had to finish scheduling all the stake baptisms for the month and send out an email to all the bishops and Primary presidents last night and was asking me to help him. SERIOUSLY! No, I have my own calling that I need to do. Yeah, I was not a happy, nice wife last night once the headache set in. Marcos said I was completely pale when I walked down to the computer to help him. Um, yeah, because I feel like I'm going to die right now! Back to my calling... I have to teach the combined lesson this month (which wasn't on my radar but another member of the presidency had to trade me - normally no big deal and totally fine, but my December and January was very busy and I was just looking forward to being able to breathe for a minute). Oh well, probably better to have less time to stress out about it. Something about teaching a big group like that stresses me out more than it should.

Well, enough. That's my whining for the morning. I guess I'll go play with Preston for awhile and try to remember why it's all worth it. I need to remind myself why it matters - why I stay home and sacrifice things so my kids will hopefully learn and grow and develop the way we hope they do and not the way some daycare administration hopes they will. I know it's worth it. I really do. But some days I just want to scream!