10 Things That Make Me Happy

Since I have absolutely nothing else to write about, and I can't find the camera-to-computer cord, so I can't post pictures, and it's been over a month since I posted, and I figure you all are salivating to hear about MY THOROUGHLY ENTERTAINING LIFE!!!!!! you're getting a list, in no particular order, of things that always make me extremely happy.

1. BOOKS!!! Oh how I love books. Fiction mostly, though I consistently try to get myself to read non-fiction books. I love to learn things, but non-fiction books are hard to get through. Most of the time. The bookshelves we have in our house are crammed, mostly, yet I still don't feel there are enough. I must be surrounded by books. They are soooooo comforting. Also, I love the library.

2. Nice weather. And no, I'm not just saying that because the weather is actually nice today (hallelujah!). I hate winter with a passion that drives me to stay in bed until spring. And if spring isn't springy enough, I will stay until it changes enough to make me happy. I'm also terrified of freezing to death, which may contribute to my love of nice, warm weather. I also like the green.

3. The Man (I would be a bad bad wife if I didn't put him on the list). He's so HOT. And nice to boot. He picks on me all the time, but I think I can live with that. The last particularly memorable thing he did, was tell me not to make noise when I threw up, because it was gross. I was leaning over the garbage can, just waiting for it to come, and trying not to cry, because I was soooooo sick of being sick and throwing up. He asked what I was doing, I told him, and he said to keep it quiet. That made me laugh, which, thankfully, also made me feel better (though he did tell me to shush when I gagged a few minutes later).

4. Soft serve vanilla ice cream. I love the stuff. And I'm not boring because I like vanilla. Chocolate ice cream looks like poop on a cone, and tastes nasty. I just have more refined ice cream tastes than most people.

5. Fresh cherries. Do you have any idea how happy I am that cherry season is coming? Do you? Do you really? I don't think so. I plan every summer to eat enough cherries to make myself sick. And I enjoy every delicious moment of it. Too bad frozen and canned aren't nearly as good. Lack of cherries is one more reason I hate winter.

6. Heaters. Of all sorts. We have a small portable one we keep (mostly) under our computer desk, and I almost always have it on, even when it's 80 degrees in the house. I'm not cold, not really, it's just comforting. I blame the old furnace vents in the house I grew up in. They blasted hot air when the furnace was on, and me and The Little Brother would sit in front of them until they turned off. Sometimes we would stay there huddled, until it came back on. I'm sure it drove my parents nuts. But it was SO WARM. Made it very hard to get dressed for school.

7. Colors. I love colorful things. I'm too lazy to be very proactive in making things colorful, like painting my walls, but I love to look at them. I can't really describe what I mean, because there are certain colors, or maybe combinations, that don't make me very happy, but aren't necessarily ugly. Then there are others that just make me want to stay in one place and stare.

8. Baths. Again with the heat. If I don't want to get naked, I will fill up the tub just enough to cover my feet and have the water go up my calves a little, and just sit on the edge of the tub until my butt is numb and read, with my feet in the water. I will periodically drain some of the water when it gets cold and refill it with hot. I used to do this in the sink, when we didn't have a tub.

9. Sunlight. Also having to do with heat. And the fact that it literally makes me happy. I have Seasonal Affective Disorder (probably yet ANOTHER reason I hate winter), so being in the sun gets my vitamin D thing on, and I get happy. Just ask The Man. I am much easier to be around in the spring and summer than fall and winter. And it's warm. I can't pass up warm things. I'm like a cat. My dream home will have a window that constantly has a patch of sunlight shining through, just so I can lay on the floor (sitting in a chair just isn't as good) in it. I will negotiate with God to get the sun to stay in one place. Or maybe I'll just have an all glass house and follow the sun around.

10. Animals. If I could live on a farm, all I'd want to do is take care of the animals. I love them all, as long as they aren't mean. I have had a multitude of pets growing up (dogs, cats, turtles, rats, hamsters, guinea pigs, and fish mostly), and I would love to house a zoo at my home. Mostly I want a couple of rats, but The Cats would probably try to eat them, since they seem to be mousers. I would also like to have an iguana, turtles again, maybe some frogs, a ferret, a tortoise, an owl because they are just cool, a pig, a horse, a goat, and a cow (I think cows are cute. Stupid, but cute). Just to name a few.


The End.

P.S. I'm 20 weeks as of yesterday! Halfway there baby! Though I'm barely showing yet, which is annoying. And I'm not feeling any movement yet, which is a little worrisome, but I think everything is okay at the same time. I can't wait for all this to be over. Then I can worry about something I at least can SEE.

P.P.S We will be finding out in June what it is. We want a girl. We will probably get a boy (which we won't be sad about. Girl clothes are just so much cuter though!). We waited as long as we have because
A) this being our first, it kind of came up fast. We are still in a semi-state of shock. At least I am.
B) We also wanted to make sure that (if it's a boy) his junk was big enough to actually see without a lot of guessing and thinking it might be a thumb or something. Though that may happen anyway.
C) Probably a little bit of fear mixed in there. Hearing the heartbeat at our first midwife appointment also did that. Actually seeing it, wow. And what if something is wrong with it? But, we will be making the appointment for the ultrasound this Wednesday. I'm guessing we will then have it done at our appointment after this one, which will be in June.

WARNING: Extremely Long But Critically Acclaimed Novel To Follow

I. Hate. Eating.

I finally was able to cook dinner tonight, which made me quite happy and made me feel like I accomplished something today, other than sitting in front of the computer with terrible posture reading other blogs. The nausea just wasn't as bad. So, I dished it up, sat down, and realized, though hungry, I just didn't want to eat it. While I haven't had it as bad as some people, the nausea has made it extremely hard to eat much, and lots of times, if I eat enough, I end up getting those disgusting vomit burps for hours after, and getting even more nauseous than I was when I was hungry.

But tonight, I made a connection.

When I try to eat, I feel like I've jumped back in that wonderful cesspool of learning to re-feed myself. I had to learn how to eat again, basically, and I had to do it twice. Once in the hospital, and once on my own. It sucked giant hairy balls. I would just sit and stare at the food on my plate, knowing that one bite of that salad with RANCH DRESSING (DUN dun duhhhhhn) would make me gain at LEAST 10 pounds, and if I ate the whole thing (which I really wanted to do but would never, ever admit to), well, just roll me out the door. But I knew I had to do it, because I knew I was killing myself, and I didn't really want to die. I would cry almost every time, and I would be ranting and screaming and throwing plates and things in my head, but I would choke it down, just telling myself, "One more bite, just one more, and then you can stop."

I remember the day that I managed to drink a glass of lemonade from Barnes and Noble instead of just getting water (that bloated feeling from drinking too much just sucked). While I don't know about my friend who was with me, a small part of me was glad I did it. I was a little proud of myself. This progressed to eating 3 pieces of pizza, without feeling like crying, or hating myself afterwards. And eventually (especially thanks to The Mother-in-law, who is a cooking GODDESS), I learned to relax and just eat. It wasn't (usually) torturous to me anymore, and I didn't worry about how much weight I was going to gain from it. I just enjoyed it.

Well, that wonderful feeling of having to force myself to eat is back. Thankfully though, very thankfully, it's not because of feeling like I'm going to get fat. I just don't want to feel sick anymore. I'm pretty certain that my stomach has shrunk because I've been avoiding eating a lot at one go, and that's why it's gotten hard to eat a full meal (unless it's Cafe Rio. I can down that pork salad like I'm going to die in 10 minutes). The Man has gotten very harsh with me on my eating habits, because now it has very little to do with me. And I know that, and it doesn't make it any easier, let me tell you.

But I managed to eat my dinner tonight. It wasn't a lot, but it was more than I have been able to eat for dinner for a long, long time. Here's hoping that I don't get nauseous and throw it up later. I'm quite proud of myself (hence the posting).

In other news, Dog 2 had to have exploratory surgery on her neck yesterday. It all started when we took her to the vet because we thought she was having ANOTHER allergic reaction to her food AGAIN (stupid dog has the digestive tract of a wet paper bag). We almost didn't bring her, but when I went to pick up some food that we know she can eat (she just doesn't gain weight on it), I just went ahead and made an appointment. This poor dog was miserable (just ask our New Mexico friends, and the Dog Friends). She was hot, she was listless, she had goopy eyes, and she wouldn't eat or drink anything. While the vet was checking her over, she found a lump in her neck which we hadn't noticed, thanks to the fact that she has too much skin on her head. It was soft and squishy, so she was pretty sure it was an abscess, caused by a small puncture wound, either in the back of her mouth, or from playing too rough with Dog 1. So she put her on pain pills and antibiotics. By the time The Man got home from work, it had already gotten bigger, and harder. We realized that the reason she wasn't eating was because her neck hurt, so we started soaking her food (HOLY BANANAS wet dog food stinks!) and putting her food dish and a water dish on some kind of elevated surface so she wouldn't have to bend her neck to get to them. And she started eating and drinking again. And the thing got bigger. And bigger. We brought her back to the vet to see if she could drain any fluid, but couldn't, so she took a needle biopsy to send off to see what it could possibly be. It came back negative for anything except blood cells, which brought up the C word. By this point, it had started leaking fluid, and it looked like she needed a bib or something. It was quite gross. SO, we scheduled her for exploratory surgery/core biopsy surgery. The exploratory was to see if there was a foreign object in there that was causing the lump, though since it was so hard, and so big, the vet was pretty sure that it wasn't an abscess. I got up at the unholy hour of 7:30 and drove her to the vet (we go to Payson. The vet there is totally worth the drive) for surgery that morning. The vet who performed the surgery said that (after getting in there) it looked to him like it was just an extremely fibrous abscess, but couldn't find any foreign object, so he got a sample to send to the lab again. The lump, which was between the size of a baseball and and a softball before it started draining, is now about the size of a golf ball, right in the middle of her neck, so they must have gotten a lot of fluid out. And now she is wearing one of those lovely collars to keep herself from scratching at the drain that's in her neck (dripping fluid every where. So gross). It's pitiful, because of the attempts to back out of it and the whining, and funny, because of the attempts to back out of it, and because she doesn't know how big her head clearance is now, so runs in to absolutely everything. She goes in on Saturday to get the drain removed, and hopefully, have a good, long, and satisfying scratch at that spot.

Pictures will be posted if I ever get around to taking them and uploading them and then posting them. I'm extremely lazy, and it's a long process.

Here's hoping that this is the last of her health problems, and we can just enjoy her as a dog, and not a sick dog.

Burnt Like My Husbands Steak: Randomness

That's his.^

That's mine.^ (Okay, not really, but it's pretty close.)

So yes, I'm feeling a bit burnt out. I have so many projects that I'm supposed to be doing right now. I'm STILL not done with "Christmas" gifts. I was seriously over ambitious on how quickly I could get those suckers done. And I have 2 quilts that need to be finished, one of them being The Man's gift. And I have a kitchen to finish de-wallpapering, and now, I have baby stuff I'm supposed to be thinking about. We'll probably be buying all the needed stuff 2 weeks after the baby is born. That's how we roll in our house. So, I'm burnt out. I have no motivation to do any of this, even BEFORE the nausea (which I think is easing up, but I'm trying not to jinx it, so pretend I didn't say that) hit me like a ton of galloping hippos in my stomach. AND now I have to study for a test at work, and school started up again and it's a class that moves fast and has a ton of studying at the same time. How I loathe those kinds of classes. Plus I have to work. Shut up, 2 days a week is a lot for lazy me.

I locked my keys in the car last Saturday. The same day I had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day at work for something I would totally love to spill all over the Internet, but it's really not a good idea to do because of lawsuits and all that fun stuff. I so want to quit. I finally got my keys out yesterday, because we were trying to have to not pay a locksmith, but no luck. Automatic locks are not wire hanger friendly. Though I did get lucky and find a good locksmith who didn't charge me my arm to unlock my car. Oh, and the check engine light is on. Yippee.

I can see a bump. The Man thinks I am imagining things. But when you spend 15+ minutes a day naked in front of a mirror trying to see something, you're definitely going to be seeing it before anyone else. I swear the little dip above it isn't just how my fat likes to roll. It wasn't there before!

Oh yeah, my zipper broke on my pants at work. Thank goodness for aprons.

The door to our breaker box has been open for almost a year. I'm not sure why. It's starting to bug me, but I have to move our monster computer screen to get it to shut. That's probably why it's still open.

I was at a loss on how to decorate our baby's room until reading some Calvin and Hobbes comics recently. I'm not a fan of cutesy stuff, or the anthropology look. It works so well for others, and it always looks so good, but I just don't want it in my house. I actually love stuff from the 60's and early 70's, but The Man thinks most of that looks like throw up, so that's out too. But I announced yesterday that The Man should totally draw cartoons on the walls, which I would then paint. Nothing fancy, I'll just be using those paints you get at craft stores. Because we are cheap. And poor. But I'm quite proud for finally coming up with something to do in there that we will probably both like. Though I'm not sure if it will just be a hodge podge of different stuff, or if we will try to go for some kind of theme or story. All I know is that it is going to be awesome. If I actually get around to painting it. Our kid just may grow up in a bedroom with penciled in cartoons on the wall.

I've started going back to the library. I have discovered that if I don't get on the computer as soon as I get home, and stay off after The Man goes to sleep, I get to bed hours earlier than I did before. I like to force myself to stay awake well past my sleepy time. But I had nothing to do instead, so I started going to the library and checking books out and ACTUALLY READING THEM. Weird, I know. I'm on late tonight for 2 reasons. 1) school and 2) I ran out of reading material days ago, but I couldn't go to the library because I had no car (yes I'm close enough to walk. No, I'm to lazy to do it. I already said I was lazy!). Reading blogs counts as reading, right?

I don't get peoples fascination with Lost. I am glad this is the last season. Survivor should be the next to go. Along with all the other "reality" TV shows.

Maybe I should go to bed now.

It Was Too Hard Not To

I know, I know. But hey! It's my first! I'm entitled to be obsessed with it, and I want to force everyone to see my little parasites progress! So :p At least it doesn't have a "tail" anymore.

In Case You Haven't Heard Yet

Totally not my test. Gross. I'm not going to take a picture of something I peed on. But I can certainly count on the Internet to host multiple pictures from people who do not have the scruples I do. (Would that be scruples, values, morals, or cleanliness?)

I did check the test I took 5 or more times to make sure it didn't change. It was all quite surreal, let me tell you. I always imagined when I did get pregnant, that I would be so excited, so happy.

But noooOOOOOOoooooo.

I freaked.

My first thought was that the test was wrong. I've taken so many tests, and they've never been positive. I didn't even bother to tell The Man that I was taking one this time, I was so certain that I wasn't pregnant. All the tests say that it takes 3 minutes for the test results to show up. Yeah, that's a lie. MAYBE 30 seconds. I was gearing myself up for the let down when THAT showed up. Oh man!

My next thought was how was I going to tell The Man? He would be mad! (I don't know why I thought that, I just did.) I ended up just showing him the test, mostly because he heard me say "Oh my G**" and asked what that noise was. He was a little upset, but only because I hadn't told him that I thought I might be pregnant, and that I didn't tell him I was taking the test. Then he told me to let go of my hands, because they weren't going anywhere.

After some major panicking in the kitchen because I didn't know what to do next, we started calling family. After all the phone time, I eventually calmed down and got busy getting excited.

We planned on keeping this all under wraps for another week, but my all-day-sickness made it pretty impossible to keep telling people I must have the flu or something. So I gave up and gave The Man permission to tell his work, and I posted on Facebook and announced it in Relief Society this morning. So, if I have previously informed you that you can't tell anybody, the cat's out of the bag now, so spread the word.

We are so excited, and so happy. But let me tell you (multiple times. Deal with it it), the nausea alone is enough to make me wish I wasn't pregnant. I was so hoping I'd be one of the lucky ones who didn't get it. I haven't thrown up yet, but I sure wish I would. Nothing helps for very long, so I keep having to try new things. I can't eat much (who wants to eat when they feel like blowing chunks?), which makes the nausea worse, so I eventually choke SOMETHING down, that generally doesn't help at all, unless it's night time. Saltines are gag-inducing (as is the smell now coming from my refrigerator), so don't suggest those. I tried them. I could barely choke them down. I think I got three down in about 10 minutes before I gave up. I'm praying that this only lasts another month, tops.

But, I would go through head-in-the-toilet-unable-to-work nausea, though, if it meant that I get to keep this baby, and that it's healthy.

I just forget that sometimes.

Anyway! Congratulations to us! We can make babies! All that practicing has paid off.