Little Kite Girl

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!

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.

Hello world.  This week has been a long one, for sure.  I think I’ve been coming down with something since Monday or so- and as I write this I’m sitting on my couch with my head spinning wondering what is piling up on my desk at work.  I came home from work last night and laid down, slept until 7pm, got up, ate, and went back to bed when it was still light out.  I had a restless night, up and down and up and down, and when I did sleep I slept too hard.  Does that make sense?  When I woke up (on my side, because the pregnancy gods-that-be tell me I can’t sleep on my back) my shoulders and hips felt like someone had been stacking library books on me all night and crushing into myself- which then began the laborious process of turning over, which makes me feel a bit like a drunk turtle.

Anyway- the REAL disturbing thing last night were the dreams.  I don’t remember EVERYTHING but I do remember having to go to MA for a week without John- he seemed to be there with me in the beginning, but then I drove him to the airport and dropped him off to come back here.  He was supposed to come back a week later, which is why I was so frustrated.  I didn’t see why he couldn’t just stay with me on our week off…but on the way home from the airport I met my friend Shanna (hi Shanna!) who told me that she went back to work for the Railroad (John’s nickname for my previous employers) because they offered her 10k more a year.  It was a really weird conversation, complete with a stop at a middle of the highway McDonald’s to use a Jetson-inspired bathroom.  ANYWAY, next thing I know, I’m going back to the airport and arguing with some annoying woman about my last name (because my license stills says my maiden name) and trying to prove to her that I’m able to use the credit card in my married name.  I kept going through my wallet looking for something to prove it to her and finding coupons for free golf games and parking.  ANNOYING.

So now I’m looking at a day where I desperately want to clean my apartment but can’t stand up for more than 5 minutes without getting dizzy.  I remember this morning John leaving and saying, “I’m going now.  Sleep more, ok?” and amazingly enough- those magic words allow my subconscious to completely relax and get some rest.  Now that I’m up, though, I wondering how functional I’ll be today.  I’ll guess we’ll see people…I guess we’ll see…..