Decisions, Decisions

I have always and forever HATED making decisions. I can be opinionated, bossy, obnoxious, and gassy, but regardless, big decisions are always hard. We are in the midst of a HUGE, MIND-BLOWING decision that has me all wrapped up in turmoil and uncertainty. (OK, I’m dramatic, but it’s still a big decision).

Jake lost his job several months ago. It has been a trial for us, unlike anything we’ve been through before, but we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we have looked on from a power greater than our own. Even on the day he was laid off, I never felt stressed because a peace came over both of us - that we would somehow be OK. It was only the week after he lost his job that we found out we were pregnant. It has been confusing to think that we felt so strongly we were to come to Boise, for Jake’s job specifically, only to lose it and then be blessed with something we always wanted but not know how to take care of the future…. again we somehow felt we’d be OK.

Jake was wonderful to bounce back and applied at hundreds of places, from Home Depot to selling cell phones. I have been amazed at his attitude during this process. I also know I have been fortunate to have a good job, but it pays nowhere near enough to support our family, including an expensive, diaper-wearing miracle that will soon join us.
A few weeks ago Jake got a job painting – definitely not the dream but something he was willing to do to get money in and to make ends meet for our family. That same week we heard from a web design company down in Orem, Utah that he’d applied to more than a month ago. We had decided after he applied that we should stop looking for jobs in Utah because it is just not good timing…. We had kind of written it off.
Jake still did several phone interviews with this company and not surprisingly, because he is FABULOUS, they loved him. They met with us last week when we were down for Easter to offer Jake a position. It is a good offer which would enable us, if we’re careful, to be able to have me stay home with Piddley.

Here’s the problem: our wonderful house. We had every intention of being in Boise permanently and bought our house because the buyers market truly was awesome. We have called our realtor back and even though we got our house for an amazing deal, the market up here is still horrible to sell and there’s no way we could sell it. Yeah. Crap. It also means having to change insurance/doctors/hospitals for my big old preggo self. It means leaving so many good friends and familiarity that we have made, and probably moving into a 1 bedroom basement apartment.

Pros: Jake would be HAPPY in his job (they have rock band parties every week, come on!) and we would be closer to family (Becca is cringing).

We have been fasting and praying and thinking hard. What do we do?

Ramblings of a Freaking Crazy Preggo

So I have determined that being preg-a-saurus is not so much an easy thing. Really…. Yeah. We have wanted a baby for a long time, and we are so thrilled (thanks for all your congrats!) but I never thought much about the pregnancy thing…. So I feel guilty for complaining about being pregnant, because it’s a miracle, but it is TOTALLY not what I expected. I have such new-found respect and admiration for all my friends that have been through this, and even so many more that have felt it worse than I have!

I do not have morning sickness – I have all day long sickness. The smell of my very own dear husband sends me into instant gagging and convulsions. The other day I exorcist vomited over my friend’s shoes because she ate yams in front of me, and just the name of ‘yams’ made me sick. We can no longer watch food commercials because I need a bucket close by.
And to make it worse, my boobs have NOT gotten bigger yet. What's the deal??
Then there’s the tired thing. I think I could sleep for 4 million years. I actually kind of like that, but it doesn’t help when it’s 11 a.m. at work and I’m in a meeting and I start drooling. Yes, it happened. They call me Drooly, the 8th Dwarf.
And I swear, I already waddle. I am 12 weeks along…. I shouldn’t even show, but I waddle. Sigh.

So let me sigh to you about the drama of this weekend. My body has been going through all these wonderful changes and if you can even imagine, the hormones have made me even MORE crazy. I decided it was time to get a new haircut and highlight so I could feel somewhat better about myself. The hair change ALWAYS helps. The lady that normally does my hair quit because she had a baby, so I made an appointment with another lady at her salon. I was paranoid and she re-assured me the hair dye and everything would be perfectly safe and normal. She was a liar.
Everywhere she tried to put brown, it turned fluorescent orange. No joke. Like a hunter hopped up on 80’s pills. I started BAWLING right there in the chair. I told her to just shave it. Bald is better than looking like one of those things they flag planes with. She told me that she has never seen it happen, but my hormones must have been so crazy they made my hair turn orange. Cry. So she ended up putting blonde everywhere to get rid of the orange, but now I look like a wanna-be Dolly Parton. I am BLONDE. I am too afraid to get it fixed, for fear it could turn green or rainbow or just fall out…. So the next 6 weeks I will be a waddling, Dolly-Parton, drooling, cry-at-car-commercials psychopath. It’s going to be a long time until October…….

BIG, HAPPY NEWS!!!

I've been waiting to say this news for over four years....

WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A BABY.

Somehow miracles and tears and prayers all worked together and I am on my way to being a baby mama.
Little Piddley Poo will be here around October 23rd. (Considering our family history, though, we should expect an 80 pound monster sometime around Thanksgiving).

I just want to say... YAY!

Like, Totally 80's!

Last week we had a ward activity where you were supposed to dress from your era. We are totally 80's, BABY!!
Jake and I had a lot of fun pulling out the stretch pants and Aqua net. I thought it would totally come back to me naturally, with my previous big bang skills and moon-dancing.
Sadly, I was mistaken. I could not do the 80's very well. Could not pull it off.
But Jake is even worse. We couldn't decide if he was a lazy, New Kid on the Block with a big kid or a 90's pedophile.

Word to the wise, don't ever add your own Madonna beauty mark. By the end of the night, it was a mustache.

I might always say I'm getting old but I think I'm glad the 80's are a thing of the past. Ugly.

Forts Rule, Chickens Drool

We have been under a lot of stress lately, and I know most of you are as well. Life is stressful, period. But being as crazy as I already am on a NORMAL day, I crack under stress. I lose it. I have two stages: stage one, you will find me huddled in the fetal position, wearing a towel as a turban, and rocking a Barbie doll to sleep. Stage two: I go nuts. I get uncontrollably hyper, constantly rambling about nothing that coherently makes any sense whatsoever. This is when people often accuse me of being on drugs.
I AM my own drug, just as much as Chuck Norris IS his own weapon.

We have done a few good things to cope with the stress. We decided to just ignore it and went down and stayed in a condo in Wolf Creek with our friends Kisty & Andrew. The weirdest part about this little weekend trip was that chickens seemed to follow us around. They were all over this cute little restaurant we found, and then again were found in the condo. I don’t get the whole decorate-with-chickens thing. To each his own, I guess. I just prefer to keep farm animals out of my decor, especially in kitchens, because we are constantly eating them. I don’t want that reminder.

Jake named this chicken 'Donk'. Good name. We are thinking about it for a prospect for our future child.

I am not trying to eat the chicken. I just am showing my lovely big mouth.

Fun thing #2 – the best, cheapest way to deal with stress, is to build a fort. We built a fort in our living room last weekend. We were laying around, whining about stuff, and I thought…. Forts rule. Forts TOTALLY rule. We watched a movie under our fort. You can totally tell we are getting old, though, because our butts went numb after laying on the floor and we ended up tearing it up halfway through the movie so we could sit on the cushy couch.


Anyone have any other positive ways of stress management? I would prefer no chickens to be involved, though.

Secretly, I totally wish a vampire would bite me. For real. Jake always tells me that he has never seen a day where I don’t trip or spill on myself. I am like Bella, times one million. I have been waiting for the day when a vampire will bite me for the sheer fact that THEN I would be somewhat graceful.

So I have been feeling gross lately. Usually it’s all I can do to drag myself out of bed, throw a ponytail in, and do a double-take smell on my socks to make sure they’re clean. I decided this morning that I would have a very classy day. I got up on time, SHAVED (not my back, but my legs), froo-frood my hair, put on a cute skirt, and wore my heeled hooker boots. I finally was able to look in the mirror and not break out into sheer terror. Yes, I was feeling quite classy.
I felt super classy in my shiny black car on my way to work. I wasn’t even late today! I also felt very classy when I got out of the car, grabbed my matching bag, my water bottle, and my banana. Only really classy people eat bananas, and since I was classy today, it was a necessity.
So I walk into the office and see a family waiting for me up front. As I’m walking to greet them, I think an invisible midget grabbed my heels, because all of the sudden the earth gave away underneath me. I just in-explicably went FLYING. Seriously, FLYING, not tripping. I flew backwards. I think I covered a ten foot distance. To make this scene even more awesome, I dropped my banana, and landed in it. Mooshed banana on a classy skirt is not so pleasant.
I’m not so classy anymore. I would give anything to go back home, get out of my banana skirt, and put on my pink sweat pants.

:)

Challenges are what make life interesting; overcoming them is what makes life meaningful.
-Joshua J. Marine

Isn't life funny? I have often looked back on my rantings and ravings and totally realize that I can be ungrateful and complain too often. I am sorry for being a whiner. I don't want to be. I try to be positive, because I know that what happens to us in life is a lot about attitude. As stated in my previous post, I truly do have much to be thankful for.
I have now determined that Satan is a loser. Boo Satan. He tries to get into my head, make me whine, make me not see past the current situation, and tries to get me to neglect the bigger picture.
I am truly grateful for the belief I have that there is a greater purpose than sometimes we can see right in front of us.
That's right. Boo Satan!