Natural Sceptre

Happy Fourth of July!  I was just reading the Star Spangled Banner (yes…reading, not singing) and came across the line from whence I drew the title of this blog.  There are no better words to hint at the kind of feelings I’m having this year- very deep.  But I’ll leave them to stand on their own, spare you my exact patriotic and political thoughts this celebratory season- and just take a moment to hope for better things to come and appreciate all the good things we do have.

We haven’t really left the house today- for a few reasons…really.  #1: Hannah Montana happens to be performing a couple miles down the road- which doesn’t bode well for traffic or annoyance levels. #2: I hadn’t really realised this until I was browsing some other blogs…but we didn’t get invited anywhere.  Honestly, we wouldn’t have gone for reason #3, but still…it has contributed to our lack of festivities.  #3: I am sick.  No, not a cold.  No, not the flu.  No, not pregnancy grossness- the doctor thinks that I have a honest-to-goodness parasite.  For shizzle.  And if you don’t want the details, you might want to skip the next paragraph.

So- I haven’t pooed normally since…well, probably last summer.  There were a lot of reasons, but mainly- I was just irregular.  Until a few weeks ago.  Some time around the beginning of June, I got sick.  It was like someone flipped a switch in my colon and I went from no action at all to WAY too much action.  I thought it was just pregnancy-related (weird stuff happens all the time when growing another human being) and moved on.  Until it got worse- and worse, and lasted too long.  I called the nurse at my doctor’s office and she told me to take Imodium….which I had been banned from…but I did for a couple of days to get through church and work and stuff.  Well…when it hardly helped, I went to Urgent Care.  It had been too long, and I was too uncomfortable…and yeah.  The doctor asked me if I had been swimming recently…not so much.  Then he asked if I had been around cattle or livestock…farm animals.  Enter the cutest little sheep ever that I fed with a bottle the last weekend in May.  And the horses and the ducks the goats and the other animals on John’s parent’s property.  I was SO CAREFUL about washing my hands after touching the animals, but apparently, not careful enough.  Either that, or washing isn’t enough.  Because I apparently have something.  The issue is..because I took Imodium for a couple of days I can’t take the “test” to find out what it is until Monday.  So that means a weekend of agony…which means….not BBQs for us.  It’s been fun, that’s for sure.  I’m just hoping we can find out what it is and that they have something that won’t hurt Camper that will get rid of it.  Because I gotta tell you- well no, I don’t gotta tell you.  And I’ll spare you.  You just don’t want what I have, promise.  It does make me feel a little better though…I thought I was just a super-weak pregnant woman- no stamina.  Turns out- I have plenty of stamina, it’s just been used up quickly by my little boy and his neighbor…the parasite…who I hear can’t hurt him at all.  More news on that on Tuesday, probably.

It’s been a rough week or so.  I’ve loved visiting family this summer- and although our visits were short- they wore me out.  I think I’m ready for some rest and for no more road trips or planes for a bit.  Work and school and getting ready for Camper are about all I can handle at the moment…all week I’ve just been singing that Alanis Morrisette song in my head…

that I would be loved even when I numb myself
that I would be good even when I am overwhelmed
that I would be loved even when I was fuming
that I would be good even if I was clingy

So, that I would be good.  I’m lucky for a husband who can roll well with all the crazy things I try to do, and then the freak outs when I can’t achieve every single thing I put my mind to.  At some point in this life I have to learn exactly how many hours there are in a day, and how much one person can do.  I guess that’s why I’m so glad there’s two of us.  If I need John so much now, with Camper still internal- I KNOW I am going to need him come September.  Good thing this family thing is a group project.

Oh the trip home.  I can’t tell how you ridiculously fabulous it felt to lay on the couch and take a nap and open the fridge and find my Mom’s food and just…smell New England.  Our flight out wasn’t too bad- I was a bit uncomfortable but it was manageable, and we arrived late on Thursday night.  Friday morning I slept a bit and my Mom went to pick up one of my BEST GIRLS at the airport- Emily had flown in by 8am from Baltimore.  Friday we mostly just sat around and talked and ate- it was SO NICE.  We watched Fools Gold and Emily and I fell asleep on the couch for an hour or so.  It was an excesses of relaxation and conversation and food- and it was wonderful.

Saturday we waited for Christine to arrive.  She was driving up from Jersey to join the group, and when she got there we all headed up to Otis to attend a marriage celebration-type function for some kids in the church who had gotten married in various parts of the United States and then come home during the summer to share the joy.  The picnic was….well, I’m sure it would have been amazingly nice if it weren’t for a few odd interactions with people better left behind.  The funniest part of the whole thing, though was when I walked up into the party area one of the guys from church applauded me (and my belly, I presume) and issued a hearty: Good job! I love seeing him, he is ALWAYS the entertainer.

Sunday was THE SHOWER.  It was more of an open house- but my cousins came (including Sara and Cutter, who I stole as soon as she got there!) and my Auntie Paulette and Aunt Cheryl and my Scranton girls (minus Jess, we missed you!) and a myriad of other people there to visit and eat and just be.  My Dad’s best friend Del and his wife Kelly came again (the photographers from our wedding in MA last summer) and they took some more pictures at the shower.  It was nice because I actually got to TALK to them this time around- I got to talk to EVERYONE this time around.  Last summer it was just “How’s my hair? Where’s my lipgloss?  Can you hold my dress? Bye!” It’s hard to capture how nice it all was- so I’ll just let that do.  Thanks to my parents and everyone else who made it such a wonderful day.  Especially all you peoples who drove to visit and catch up.  It meant so much!

Monday we ran up to UMass Amherst so John could check out their MFA program- it was nice to get some facetime and some realistic expectations for what the program is looking for.  Then we went home and packed up (correction, John packed…because apparently whatever I pack he RE-PACKS…interesting huh? ) and headed off innocently to the airport.  I should have known at security when they almost didn’t let me through (temporary license, which finally sports my married name) and then the long lines to everything and everywhere…but I thought’d we be ok.  The first flight was fine- we got through it.  But the second flight…oh that second flight.  It was hours longer than it needed to be, and so uncomfortable- and I felt SO sick.  Finally I just cried, I put my raggy little blankie on John’s shoulder and just cried and cried because of how much I NEEDED to be off that plane.  It was honestly the most trapped I’ve ever felt in my entire life, and it didn’t help that they had the seatbelt sign on the entire time and the flight attendants didn’t seem to understand my absolute need to use the bathroom.  When they announced landing I said, “I don’t believe them.  I’m going to have this baby on this plane.  I hope there’s an OBGYN on here somewhere.  And a first grade teacher.”  We got home about 3 am (we were supposed to be home around 11, I think?) and crashed.

Granted, it was a bad trip back here…but it was worth it.  I’m so glad I got to go home and relax and really think things out.  Perhaps we’ll have some announcements soon- but we’ll see.  Still trying to work out this whole future thing.

Home.  So tired.  Never, never going to fly again. I’m so tired I’m not even CLEANING MY HOUSE after the trip.  Phew.  Ok, more later, but here’s one of my favorite pictures from the weekend. More details on how much I love much I love my family and friends later.

-My Parent’s Couch

-Rain, and mists, and more rain.

-Homemade hot fudge with friends.

-Weird, unexplainable rashes. (OK, maybe not this one.)

-The drivethrough guy at Taco Bell burping instead of saying “Please pull forward.”

-Not being on a plane.

-My Scranton girls.

-My husband and his chill-ness.

-New, updated drivers licenses.

-Zipping through an AT&T rebate card in two days.

Ahhhhh, vacation.

Another weekend come and gone. Friday night we…what did we do? I can’t remember now. We probably literally sat around and then fell asleep… most likely. Neither of us can really recollect- so that means we were wiped out. Saturday we slept in quite late and then moved a LOAD of stuff to storage. And I mean…a LOAD. We still have a few items to go through and figure out, but for the most part the baby’s room is empty of office furniture. Now it’s time to start making it a real place for Camper to live and grow and do his thang. We basically ran ourselves ragged on Saturday- followed by a good night of sleep.

Sunday we went to church and then made our way back home- we made a nice lunch and Jonathan came over for some movies. I think there was a nap in there somewhere, too. It was all nice, but all too short.

Cut to today- manic payroll Monday full of people forgetting things and or not doing things add to that NOT SHOWING UP AT ALL- and I’m looking forward to a new day of it all tomorrow. But don’t despair- it all leads up to the GRAND FLIGHT of Thursday when we get to go to Massachusetts. I fear for my tail bone, but am excited on behalf on my true New Englander’s spirit.

By the way- check out Andrea’s comment on what my baby might be thinking in there- VERY interesting reading. Thanks Andrea. Now, if only you would update YOUR blog, I’d have more things to read!!

And OH MY GOSH- I just looked at the sidebar and we are sub 100 days for baby!!  I mean, it’s not an exact science, but the weird floaty sidebar baby says sub 100 days until pop time. CRAZY!

So I’ve had a few requests to see our “nursery.” You’ll have to understand…our nursery at the moment includes a crib with some fabulous bedding, and then a wall full of stuff and boxes we still need to go through…and two bookcases full of John’s books. So, pretty much…just the crib. But it makes me happy We got the mattress today- and we’ve got to alter the bumpers a bit so they tie on our crib securely- but I think it looks GREAT.

Take a look:

I love love love this quilt. I love the colors and the thickness and the way I picture Camper looking at it and patting at the different patterns. And here you can see some of our friends- frog with diaper, (that was practice), “I want to hug you” dinosaur, two hand puppets, guardian moose, OTHER moose, fuzzy llama, and Aristotle the penguin.

It’s a good start, very very good.

And DON’T WORRY - I know you can’t keep a load of things in a baby’s crib. I know I know…but I figure they can just keep it warm for him while he’s still internal.

The week FLEW by.  So busy- running to work, school, trying to get over my cold (and watching John try to get over his) and just feeling Camper explore his little universe.  I slept in a lot this morning, and even after I was awake I stayed in bed with my eyes closed and concentrated on my little baby- moving around inside me.  I wonder what he’s thinking, if he’s thinking, or if he’s just chillin’ out in there.

We ordered our crib last week- I got home on Tuesday night and John had already put it together.  It’s SO heavy I can barely move it- and I already put the things my Mom made in it in preparation.  The mattress should arrive this week and then I can REALLY set it up and have something to look at.  It just makes me feel happy.  This is the kind of crib we got:

I’ll take a picture when we get it set up with my Mom’s quilt and everything else.  We even have some friends to stick in there so camper isn’t alone

If anyone is wondering where to get a really good crib for a REALLY good price: try Amazon.com.  We have Amazon Prime, so we don’t pay shipping on all items eligible for Prime…I picked this crib out a month or so ago after reading a million reviews on which types of cribs can suffocate/injure my child- and the Storkcraft brand won out.  I love that it will grow with him, even turning into a bed frame for a full-sized bed.  But seriously- Amazon was the cheapest I found it ANYWHERE.  I think the gods were smiling on me.

Ok- off for the day.  We have some SERIOUS cleaning/moving to do.  A guy from our church is bringing a truck over to help us move my desk over to our chosen storage unit, and then we’ve got some nursery rearranging to do

Hey world.  Just wanted to let you know that I am doing much better.  Still crazy, but today went pretty well at work.  Despite being recklessly busy and the fact that our house looks like someone hit it with a stuff bomb, I think this week is going to be ok.  I can feel my baby boy kicking as I write, I have a loving, zany husband, and today I got a wonderful box full of nursery bedding that my Mom made.  Good things.

Well, this is sure to be a downer. But I’ve got to vent a bit….

I realised that my Grandma June was a little crazy the day I heard that she had a stroke. The stroke wasn’t the thing that gave it away- the tell-all was the fact that I’m pretty sure someone said that when she had the stroke she fell off the top of the fridge…where she had been cleaning. She had the cleanest home in the world. Whenever I was around her she was cleaning- cooking- cleaning again. But she didn’t SEEM crazy because that’s just how it was. She had time to take care of her home the way she felt she needed to, especially since I don’t think she slept over 2 or 3 hours a night since she was in her 60’s. I often come back to these pictures in my head. Grandma June wiping something up, cleaning dishes, vaccuming, sweeping the patio, mowing her own lawn. She was a fanatic. I can see this fanaticism for cleanliness and routines extending from her through some of my nearest and dearest and landing …on…me.

I’ve always been a cleaner- and I’ve always had my little “habits” that make a day a success. There have been times in my life where my inability to attain perfection in my routines has caused me downright fear, absolute anxiety that somehow my lack of attention to prescribes details would end in some catastrophe for my parents. I spent fourth grade in the bathroom in the nurse’s office because things weren’t the way they were meant to be….I spent the summer before my Junior year in Scranton in my house in Massachusetts just knowing that if I left nothing would ever be the same. It was an awful, awful fear. But I always got over it- even though my routines were my sanity, and breaking expectations meant anger and fear and anxiety- I broke them anyway. It was my way of coping. I went to Scranton. I went to England. I came to Utah. And aside from being known as a “neat freak” and having “high expectations” when it comes to cleanliness, I think my symptoms have abated some and I’ve been able to just go with the flow. I left my safe places and suffered through the anxiety until it just went away.

Until now. I am absolutely consumed with the need for things to be better, cleaner, more perfect. And, being pregnant, I’ve got less ability to force them to be so. For about a week now I’ve had this really strange anxiety around my heart. It makes me close my eyes and try to breath, and the only way I can make it go away is by straightening up my house and making sure the dishes are done and cleaning the bathroom. I plan things, and if they go well..well…things are great. But if they don’t it’s like my whole world is falling apart. I keep reading things on the internet trying to figure out how to cope with my feelings, but I can’t find anything except “OCD symptoms can worsen during pregnancy.” Well….thanks. That’s helpful. And I cry and cry and try to explain to John why I’m so crazy- and he just holds me and lets me get it all out…but then it just builds again.

Am I going to be crazy forever? Cause here’s the thing- while this disease might have been acceptable or even HANDY during a time when all I’m expected to do is to keep a clean house and wipe my children’s noses raw….I don’t live during that time. And I want more for myself. And while I’ll always, probably, be that “neat freak”….I need to be able to go with the flow and be a little more flexible without breaking down. I wish I could explain how it feels- I really do.

Even as I’m writing this I’m thinking that I probably shouldn’t put this out there for everyone to see- more than anything I want to be pleasant and easy and delightful to be around and think about. I want to be a strength to my family and not someone to worry about (so don’t worry Mom, ok?) but I think that perhaps the only thing that will make me feel better…even a little…is to know that everything’s going to be ok. This isn’t just “nesting” and it’s not just “pregnancy stress,” I know it’s more than that. Most likely, the pregnancy hormones that makes some women cry at sappy commercials are taking those parts of me that make me crazy and shooting them around my body like ping pong balls. But just getting it out there just maybe, might, MAYBE help me reconnect to the world instead of pulling inside of myself and attempting to achieve perfection all alone and failing. Because who can be perfect?

I’m not perfect. My home is not perfect. And I can’t do everything.

So there ya go.