belly pics

Today I went lap swimming for the first time in, well, a long time. It was great, especially since I didn't leave frustrated with how slow I've become since I didn't try to do any sprint sets or anything like that. Now I smell like chlorine.

Anyway, the purpose of this post isn't to talk about the swimming. It's to talk about my attempt to take belly pictures today before I went swimming. I've read articles that it's a good thing to do but I keep putting it off and think that I may regret it later. Doubtful. So since I was in a swimsuit and it seemed like the least pornagraphic attire for such a picture I decided it was as good a time as any. But first, how often do women purposely take up close and personal pictures of their stomachs straight on? I can think of zero times unless you count the entries into weight loss competitions with one handing hold the newspaper, face scowling, slumped over, purposely sticking out the belly, trying to look as horrible as possible. So besides that, it just doesn't happen. Now, since I am pregnant, I guess my belly is supposed to look "cute." I tried frontways, sideways, sucking it in, sticking it out, even the take- one- picture- after- the- other- while- rotating method to get a good angle.

Newsflash: it ain't cute.

It looks weird and I honestly think that my belly button is off center. So I think I am going to wait to attempt the whole belly photo journal again when I can't fit into my jeans anymore. Right now, yes it sticks out, but without knowing can you tell that I am pregnant? Nope. Just looks like I ate too much at dinner and who wants a picture of that?

Definitely not me.

. . . and I definitely don't want it documented for my progeny.

*Disclaimer: there are some women in the world who just love everything about being pregnant. I, on the other hand, think it is very possible to be amazed by the whole process, immeasurably grateful, excited, overwhelmed, happy, and still think that it makes your body do weird and not necessarily attractive things.

**note to self: Take a picture of your stomach every now and then just to see what you find out, i.e. your belly button is crooked.**

you'd think I'd figure it out.

I guess technically I should consider myself lucky because the number of times I have thrown up so far are relatively few. But when it comes to throwing up, I am a wuss, so each instance is horrible and really quite tragic. With this in mind one would think that I would be smart enough to learn from my previous experience's and avoid the food(s) that have made me sick in the past. But no. Once again, I didn't learn and paid the price. 6 times in one night/morning. So gross. If I ever even hint at a desire to eat beans of any sort in any type of mexican food and/or soup- PLEASE STOP ME.

Last night was the first time that I really started to question whether I am ready to be a mom yet. After puking all over myself and the floor in the bathroom the thought that kept running through my head was, "I want my mommy." (Note to self: Growing up, I never remember calling my mom "mommy" it was always just "mom"-- the "mommy" is a sure sign of desperation on my part.) So then I started to wonder how in the hell I was going to take care of another tiny human being when it was about all I could do not to call my mommy on the other side of the country, in the middle of the night, to make me feel better.

Ang says that it is easier to be the one comforting and cleaning up than the one doing the throwing up. I sure hope so because I am pretty sure that the cleaning-up-of-puke ball is going to fall solely and squarely in my maternal lap.

The good news: I was able to call my mommy this morning at 7 (9 her time) to ask for suggestions. Jeff was a champ and went to the store to pick up some coca-cola before he headed to Brian Head to go skiing. And now that I have 24 ounces of soda and some saltines in me I am feeling a lot better. I am pretty sure that if a fetus is capable of backflips and cartwheels, mine is twirling like a pro because this is the only caffeine/soda that I have drank since I got pregnant. Which also made it possible for me to read the entire book Tricia suggested, HypnoBirthing: The Mongan Method that came from amazon.com the other day. Really cool book, I like it, but it deserves a post of its very own so that will come later.

stupid stupid house. stupid stupid real estate market.

I have been stressing out about our house in AZ on a pretty regular basis. Regular as in at least once an hour I think about it (in between thinking about what I feel like eating next and actually eating it). Long story short: the house is worth at least $50,000 less now than when we closed on it in June. Fanfreakingtastic. I just got off the phone with the real estate agent and learned that not only is the builder selling the homes for a lot less than what we paid for it but the other 2 houses for sale in the neighborhood are short sales. Short sales meaning they are selling them for whatever they can get out of them while damaging their credit score but avoiding foreclosure. But even with the super low price 1 of them has been on the market 6 weeks and the other 8 months.

This is the part where I want to swear really loud and a lot.

Ignorance is bliss because before that fun little phone call I was thinking we were probably gonna lose $30,000. Now I know that it will be considerably much more than that I am going to have to cut back on my thinking about eating time to make more time for the worrying about the house. However, the good news is that the house is only in my name so if we got real desperate we could short sale it and blow my credit rating into smithereens while leaving Jeff's untouched so when we buy another house in 15 years it can just be in his name.

The realtor said that it will probably be a couple of years before the market bounces back. And that QC was the hardest hit area in the county. Sweet. I am not at all opposed to moving back. I love that house and the weather there and wal-mart would be about .25 seconds away so what more could a girl ask for. Arizona has teaching license reciprocity with Utah seemingly few hoops to jump through so I bet Jeff could get hired there when he is finished with his student teaching this summer.

What a mess. Is it worth taking the hit so that Jeff can start working in Utah now? Or would it be better to just go back to AZ for a few years until we can sell that house for what we paid?

bluh

I did not get one single thing done today. Unless you count watching every single show I DVRed last week while I was out of town AND today's Heroes episode. I feel like crap and when I went to the doctor the strep test was negative so I have a stupid make-your-throat-bright-red-and-swollen-and-achey virus but not strep. AKA I get to just deal with the annoyingness and no medicine will make it go away. wahoo. I need to get my new passport tomorrow so that should be a pretty sweet picture- especially since I am broken out like crazy.

Fantastic.

stupid daylight savings

First, can I please just say that yesterday felt like the longest day of all long days? The combination of daylight savings time and then moving back and forth through 3 time zones messed me up big time. At 7 o'clock last night it felt like 11 pm. I don't even know what time I went to bed last night I just know that it had been dark for about 8 hours already. This morning, I woke up when Jeff got up and tried to fall back asleep but then I opened my eyes just enough to see how bright it was outside. It looked like it was noon because the room was so bright. So then I realized I was probably missing Price Is Right (pathetic? Yes.) so I got up, got dressed and headed downstairs. Then I looked at the clock. It was only 7:24 am. *Way too early. Price is Right wasn't even going to start for another hour and a half! I sat around downstairs until Jeff left and then came back upstairs. Now I just have about 50 minutes to kill before the show starts.

And I am still trying to figure out why the heck Jeff woke up so early in the first place!

*I don't expect anyone to be too extremely sympathetic because I recognize that with kids 7:24 a.m. feels like noon and most people with full-time jobs are on their way to work.

venting

Right now there are 7 adults living in this house. 2 grandparents, 2 parents, 2 marrieds, and 1 unmarried. More importantly, this makes 2 daughter-in-laws, 2 mother-in-laws, 2 father-in-laws, 2 moms, 2 dads, and 3 sons. Simply put, too many.

Luckily, I am able to head upstairs as soon as *Price is Right is over and sew the rest of the day. I convince myself all day that I am handling the pressure cooker pretty well until Jeff gets home and I start picking on him. Probably because he is the only one I can get away with picking on. I'm horrible. He finally said something last night and I realized what I'd been doing. I feel bad.

If I wasn't leaving town next week I'd be out looking for a job- at least then I have being tired to use as an excuse for being ornery!

*I may be the only person who likes Drew Carey better than Bob, but I do.

change.

I've always thought that I adapt to change fairly well. I think that maybe I am not as good as I thought- I just have never given myself to actually think about the changes as they were occurring-- I just dealt with the aftershock. Sometimes with medication.

My parents moving to Kentucky just hit me tonight. My mom probably thinks that I am a callous wench because she has been emotional off and on since I got here on Monday night. I have been pretty stoic and level-headed about the whole thing. Until of course I was talking to Jeff on the phone tonight about spending conference weekend here (at my parents) instead of at his parent's because some friends were coming to his parent's for part of the weekend. I need to learn to just tell him how I feel about something rather than try to convince him why he should change his (our) plans. I should have learned by now that we are both equally stubborn but that he has such a kind heart that if he knows that I am hurting or sad he will do whatever he is capable of to eradicate my sadness. Or at least whatever it takes to stop the tears.

It has just hit me that I won't be able to just "go home" for the weekend anymore. Really, my home is wherever Jeff is, but I don't know if I will ever grow up from knowing that if I am sick of taking care of myself and want to be somewhere that I can hibernate or whatever- I can just go to my parents house.

My dad told me that I am bossy. He's probably right. But there is part of me that would love to just be somewhere for a little while where somebody else was making the decisions and worrying about things and I could be the one to be 'bossed' for once. Although who am I kidding- that would last for about 15 seconds and I would be outta there.

Maybe it's a good thing that I haven't gotten pregnant yet- cause here I am whining about having to take care of myself, let alone a baby.

I don't know- I'm tired. And I miss Jeff. But I am trying to somehow balance spending time with my parents and seeing him. I like to be the one who is leaving/moving. I don't like to be the one who is getting left. Living in AZ this whole thing wasn't as harsh because I wasn't able to be around much anyway. But now, knowing that my parents would have been a quick car ride away such that I could have driven down and back while Jeff was in school to go to a movie with my mom if I felt like it, but in less than 2 weeks it will be a long flight to see them, after making that drive. The timing just sucks.

I think I am going to go to bed, read a book, and feel sorry for myself. Speaking of which, my mom gave me a pair of ear plugs to try out- so that I don't end up on the couch every night before I get used to Jeff's snoring again.