searching for silver, part 2.

{around the campfire, with no idea what was ahead for us}

after stopping for dinner and multiple potty breaks, getting lost, then being pulled over for speeding just outside of city limits (our first-ever warning ticket only! we couldn't believe our luck.)  we pulled into the campsite after dark.  the kids were bursting with excitement, and i found myself joining in as we bundled up in jackets, unpacked the car, and began to set up the tent.

a short while later, we gathered around a big campfire with the other ward members, chatting and roasting marshmallows.  caleb showed up at my side with a cup of hot chocolate in his hands.

"are you doing okay, bud?"  i asked, remembering the last time he drank hot chocolate while he was on the fathers & sons campout with ben just a couple of months ago.  in the middle of the night, he randomly threw up an enormous amount of liquid, covering his entire sleeping bag with a puddle of regurgitated hot chocolate and marshmallows.  it only happened once, so we figured his upset stomach was due to an overdose of sugar.  (throwing up is a common occurrence when caleb has too much many sweets)

"don't worry mom, it's only half a cup," caleb replied confidently.  we talk a lot at home about listening to our bodies and taking care of them and i let go of most of the control so he can feel confident in his decisions--and learn from his own mistakes.

for a couple of hours, things went great. the girls told us they were ready for bed around 9:00, so we set up our sleeping bags and planned on getting the kids to sleep and then joining some of our friends outside of our tents for games.  leah and caleb snuggled into their sleeping bags, laughing and talking for a few minutes before quieting down.  june however, had other plans.  she hadn't had much of a nap that day, and was overly tired and really grouchy.  after an hour she finally lay down beside me on the air mattress.  (yes, i said air mattress.  this is still considered "real camping" in my book.)

the temperature had dropped so much i could see my breath in the air and i put a third pair of flannel pants and another pair of socks on.  i looked across the row of children to find ben already asleep, huddled so far into his sleeping bag all i could see was the top of his forehead.

i settled down and just as i was drifting off to sleep, i heard caleb's voice--in a much higher pitch than normal.

"mom, my stomach hurts.  i think i'm going to throw up!"  his tone was panicky.

i jumped out of my blankets as quickly as i could without disturbing june, and frantically grabbed for the backpack i had stuck several unused garbage bags in its front pocket.  i'm no fool--we've been down this road many times before, and i came prepared.  as one hand was retrieving the garbage bags, the other was smacking ben's sleeping bag by his feet.  he sat up, his eyes squinty and confused.

i loudly whispered, "caleb's gonna barf, get up!" and ben sprang into action.  he helped caleb up while i unzipped the tent for the two of them to walk outside.  i heard caleb begin to retch and knew then, we were in for a long night.  after he had finished, we tried to give him some medicine and only a minute later, he threw that up as well.  even though he had made it in the garbage bags, there was some residual on his shirt and he needed to be changed.  his entire body was trembling from the cold as ben and i worked to quickly switch his clothing.  to warm him up, ben sat down with him in his lap and wrapped a blanket around the both of them.

"i'm so sorry you're sick, buddy," i said softly as i wiped his mouth and nose.  "and i know you're old enough to make your own choices, but i'm just going to go ahead and take the lead with this decision:  you're off of hot chocolate for the next couple of years, okay?"

he nodded with a little smile on his face.

for the next few hours, this is how they sat as caleb continued to vomit.

i was awake the whole time, but laying down across the tent next to june, who continued to stir.  i could tell she was cold, and kept trying to put more layers on her but she would irrationally thrash around and scream when i would try to help her.  the only thing she would let me do was stand and hold her wrapped in a blanket, but would wake back up again if i tried to lay her down her own.  i finally rocked her to sleep, and carefully inched my way to lay back down while still holding her.  i was hoping my body warmth would be enough to keep her comfortable, though by this time i was also trembling.  the blankets on top of us were stiff with cold, and anytime i moved, a breeze of freezing air would chill me to the bone.

i remembered i had brought essential oils, so i motioned to ben where they were and he put them on caleb, speaking calmly and encouragingly to him as he held the garbage bag near his mouth.  a few minutes later, caleb fell into a deep sleep.  ben continued to hold him and hummed songs softly as he waited to make sure caleb was okay.  once he was sure, he slowly laid him down, and climbed back into his sleeping bag.

i hugged myself around the stomach to try to find warmth and closed my eyes to go to sleep, when june woke up again, crying loudly and waking up leah.  she said she was scared, so i told her to climb up on the air mattress, on the other side of me.  she did, bringing all of her belongings with her, and i realized there was not enough room for the three of us and our piles of blankets.  june settled back down, and i tried to find a way to get comfortable, but ended up waking her up again.  this time, she was ticked.  she screamed and yelled something i couldn't understand but was positive it sounded like cursing in toddler language.  she climbed down and tried to walk, immediately falling and becoming even more enraged.  this woke up leah again, who whined loudly, saying she didn't want to sleep by me anymore.

and this was when i had had it.  vomiting children is hard enough on its own.  freezing, and having freezing children is hard enough on its own.  camping with kids is hard enough on its own.  serious sleep deprivation is hard enough on its own.  but combine all of them??  it felt like too much.

delirious with exhaustion, uncontrollably shivering from cold, and extremely frustrated with the situation, at the sound of leah's whines and june's cries (again), i said under my breath, "oh my hellllllllllllllllll,"  and it was from the heart.  then i realized we were surrounded by families from our church who could have heard me, and was embarrassed, but only for a second.  :)

i looked at the clock on my phone.  3:48 am.  i helped leah back to her original sleeping place, while ben picked up june.  i was feeling so done with this night.

then i heard it, ben's soft humming again.  i looked up to see june wrapped in his blanket, as he stood in the tent in only his thermal shirt, pajama pants and socks.  he rocked her patiently, humming several songs.  she quieted down, and he kept rocking.  i looked at my clock once more, 4:13 am.  though i was still shivering, i somehow found a way to finally drift off to sleep....

the morning sun was shining through the red fabric of the tent as i was woken to caleb's frantic pleas.  "mom, i think i'm going to throw up again!"  ben sat up at the same time as i reached for the last garbage bag we had, and held it next to caleb's mouth.  when he was finished, i wiped his face and looked at the time.  6:09 am.

ben scooted closely to me, and looking directly into both of my eyes, said with a serious tone,  "that's IT.  we're outta here."

"oh, THANK YOU!" i replied.  ben turned on the car with the heat blasting, we helped caleb in with the garbage bag, then picked up each of the girls and strapped them into their carseats.  ben told me to stay in the car to help entertain the girls and assist caleb if he needed to be while he began taking down the tent and throwing our belongings into the back of the van with a determination i hadn't seen in a long time.

within 20 minutes, we were ready to go.

we told our friends good-bye, to enjoy the warm breakfast we could smell cooking, and began our 2 1/2 hour drive back home.  within 10 minutes of leaving the campsite, leah announced she needed to go to the bathroom (yet somehow didn't when i had asked her before we left?  anyway.) so we pulled over, took out her travel potty seat and ben helped her.  while of course i took a picture.

i wanted to be in a bad mood--i really did.  it was a long, extremely arduous night.  our optimistic attitudes had definitely been deflated.

instead i forced myself to start searching for the silver lining, because i believe there always is one, in every situation no matter the difficulty.  as i thought through the details of the night, i started forming a mental list:  the vomit was contained--that was a blessing, no one else vomited, we had a car with a working heater to turn on in the morning, there were flushing toilets at the campsite, soon we would be in the comforts of our own home/shower/bed..... but through all of the positive things i could list, one stuck out more significantly to me:

"i want you to know, as awful as that experience was, my love and appreciation for you grew even deeper over the past 24 hours,"  i said aloud to ben.

"oh, really?"  he said with surprise.  "how so?"

"i watched you and was amazed, yet again, at your unending patience--sitting there with caleb and taking care of him while being so close to his vomit, talking to him kindly and keeping him warm.   then with june, doing the same thing when you were so tired, standing and rocking her while she was insane.  your patience never wore out....well, maybe this morning it did.  but in the middle of it all, you were so great at handling it.  i definitely wasn't so fabulous at this, and it made me realize how grateful i am for you.  i have several friends who married men who are not helpful with these things--saying ridiculously that it's the 'woman's job' and checking out.  thank you for not being that kind of a man, or husband, or father."

"well, you're welcome!"  he said with a small laugh.  "sooooooo....does this mean you'll go camping as a family again?"

"are you seriously asking me this right now?  seriously.  so you're delusional then.  NO.  i'm not even entertaining the idea for at least 5-7 years.  i love you, but even love has its limitations,"  i said, and we both laughed.

we happily drove the rest of the way home in the morning sunlight, talking, eating snacks, and realizing that if you search for it, you can always find the silver lining---even after a horrendous overnight camping experience.

searching for silver, part 1.

{the beginning of the end}

it's no secret that i'm not a fan of camping.

when ben and i were dating seriously, we discussed the fact that i'm a self-proclaimed 'indoor-girl', and i asked if this was something that could potentially damage our bright and shiny possible future.

{side note:  my definition of 'indoor girl' is this:

• an absolute lover of the outdoors and nature, until it requires me to:

1. sleep on anything aside from a mattress and box springs.
2. sleep/eat/live inside four walls made of material that cannot provide protection from inclement weather, dangerous 4-legged predators, or shriek-inducing creepy crawly things (when the enter/exit door is left unzipped, of course)
3. dig a hole in the wilderness, or hover over a non-flushing, fly-covered latrine, or even worse.... (cue the dry heave) asking me to "pack it out."  for any of you reading who knows what that statement means, i am so sorry.
4. sleep while sharing the same 100 ft space with my three children (whom i love and adore) because of their severe inability to sleep anywhere unless they're tucked in their own beds.  (and even then, their sleeping habits are extremely questionable)

other than those requirements?  nature and i get along quite well.  there's no place i feel closer to God than when i'm surrounded by the beauty He has created.  i just don't like to sleep, or use the bathroom there.  end of side note.}

ben thought long and hard about my question.  he was not only a self-proclaimed 'outdoor guy,' but he had actually communed with other nomads/hippies/earthlovers by joining in the "rainbow gathering" and accepting this way of life as his own, for a time.  this was who we were when we met in high school... my curly hair, overly-mascaraed eyelashes and show choir uniform vs. his poofy white-boy fro, Grateful Dead tie-dyed t-shirt, frayed jeans and ever-present hacky sack.

i told him i wouldn't stifle his love of sleeping under the stars with dirt in his teeth and the next morning's trail mix near his pillow--he was welcome to go on trips and expeditions when he pleased.  i asked the same of him, to marry me without the thought of changing me, knowing i would prefer always to sleep in a hotel, with flushing toilets and my tube of mascara waiting by the bathroom mirror.

we agreed that our love for each other and immense compatibility in other areas far out-shined this measly indoor girl vs. outdoor guy conundrum.  for the past almost 11 years, this has worked for us.  ben has found male friends and family to go on weekend explorations through slot canyons and steep mountains, while i've found girls who appreciate a night away tucked into egyptian cotton sheets and showering with small tubes of complimentary shampoo.

but then our children grew up, becoming old enough to love the idea of sleeping in a tent and eating fire-roasted marshmallows until their bellies distended with sugary goodness.  

i wrote about the last time we went camping as a family; the sleepless night and flustered morning when i handed 5 month old leah over to a stranger while i made a mad dash for the outhouse before my bladder exploded.  i still remember that moment of panic.

we hadn't been "real" camping as a family since that time, until the ward campout was announced a month ago in church, and immediately the kids begged us to go.  my instincts told me to pretend i didn't hear them, but i looked into their adorable, pleading eyes, then into the chocolate-y brown eyes of their father, and i found myself saying yes.  i knew it would be a sleepless night, but my sense of optimism took over.  i pictured dirty faces, hiking among trees together, sitting around the fire playing games...and convinced myself i could just take a nap the next day.  i wanted to be a good sport, to try again.

in the back of my mind, i knew i didn't want to be someone who always says "no" to things just because i don't love it and know it's going to be a lot of work.  how could i teach my kids to try again and do hard things, if i wasn't willing to?

knowing it was going to be cold, we packed multiple layers for each family member, and left mid-afternoon, ready for our adventure....

rash.

yesterday she woke up with just a few spots, on her arms and legs.  


do they itch? i asked.  no momma, it's just a yittle rash, she replied.  {she has such a big vocabulary and yet still cannot pronounce her "L's" correctly if they're at the beginning of a word. and the truth is, i kind of hope she always talks this way.} 


and carried on her sunshine-y way.  but i knew better, i'd seen something similar before.  several years ago, on our nephew.  an allergy to amoxicillin.  just to be safe, i didn't give her the morning dose, prescribed from an ear infection last week.  and i called the doctor.  


i got her ready for her morning fitness class, and as i was pulling her out of the van to go into the class, i noticed the rash had spread.  a LOT.  she skipped her class, and we went straight for the doctor.  


it will get worse before it gets better, the doctor informed me, confirming that it is, in fact, an allergy to amoxicillin.  


worse? the doctor wasn't kidding.



this is what she looks like today.

there are certain areas where they're hurting her, around her elbows and knees.  but other than that, the rash's bark is worse than its bite.  


still, poor little girl.


{side note:  this is about the 5th or 6th time she's had amoxicillin in her life, and she's never had this reaction before.  i was under the impression that she wasn't allergic to it because she'd had it before.  guess i was wrong.}

why i slept with the light on and with my hand over my mouth last night.

i was determined to go to bed at at decent time last night.  

decent for me these days though, is somewhere around 11:30, and that is on the early side.  mainly because i've been a little OCD about making sure everything is ready "just in case" the baby spontaneously decides to spring into action in the middle of the night.  i like to feel prepared.  also, i've been up a lot with these wonderful contractions that seem to come and go whenever they please.

i digress, that is completely off the subject.

but yesterday had been long....meaning that i didn't get my middle-of-the-day nap {don't judge me}, so i got all ready for bed and was messing around on facebook for a few minutes, when i felt something on my arm.  thinking it was a random loose hair, i absentmindedly swiped it away, only to feel it a second later, on another part of my arm.

i looked down and saw a small but incredibly fast-moving baby spider crawl up my arm and go somewhere down my shirt.

i screamed.

ben, who thought that either a car alarm had gone off in our bedroom {he told me later that the sound i had made didn't sound even close to human}, or that my water had just broken and i was leaking amniotic fluid all over, came running.  to find me hysterically pulling at my shirt, jumping around and squealing like a baby pig.  

"where did it go???  WHERE DID IT GO???"  i shrieked as i squirmed around, trying to find the 8 legged creature while still keeping my pajama shirt on.  i didn't need to feel exposed as well as violated in the same instant.  

"what? where did what go?"  ben thought i had cracked, completely lost my mind.

"the baby spider!  it went down my shirt and i can't find it!"  i shrieked even higher.  he looked at me like i was insane.  this was what i was screaming about?

but i hate.... i mean, HATE spiders.  of all kinds and sizes.  they are on the top of the list of things i despise, even above sharks, the deep ocean in general, and cats that jump up on my lap unannounced.  {and the only reason they are at the top of the list is because i realize that sharks are only dangerous if i'm actually in an ocean, which doesn't happen because i'm afraid of the ocean, and i keep a sharp eye and close watch on cats whenever i'm around them. spiders are the only actual understandable and rational threat, because they can be anywhere i am and appear when and where they want to.}

i searched like a crazy fool for a few minutes, but never found the spider.  i had to calm myself down by basically convincing my brain that i knew, i just knew that the baby spider had been mashed to bits during my freak out.

and then ben, who had been watching me with a mocking interest, distracted me.  i stood next to him, and suddenly he scrunched up his nose and then his eyebrows in a disdainful look.  then he smelled my arm.  then my shirt.  he kept sniffing around, when i realized what he was smelling.

"oh, i bet you're smelling my anti-stretch marks lotion,"  i said, and grabbed the lotion so he could hold it up to his nose.

"ew!"  he said when he put the bottle of lotion up to his nose.  "yeah, that's it.  EW.  it smells like moldy laundry {which i will say, we are probably pretty near mold-smelling-detectives by this point in our lives}, or something disgusting."

"hey, be nice!"  i replied with a defensive tone.  "i know it's stinky, but so far it's totally working!  not a stretch mark in sight."

"gross.  you need to go and wash your stomach in the washing machine," was his completely immature {in my oh-so-mature opinion} reply.

i ignored him and lay down in bed.  i opened up my scriptures to read them before i went to sleep.  ben went back to whatever he was doing before i was violently attacked by the baby spider.

i got a couple of verses in, when what do you know?

another baby spider, a different one, crawled across the book!  i shrieked again and slammed it closed on the spider, this time verifying that i had crushed it.

ben came in again because of the shriek.

"i'm under attack!"  i said dramatically, with goosebumps covering my arms, as i told him about the interruption of my spiritual moment.

and just then, i'm not even making it up, another baby spider crawled across my pillow.  i screamed a good loud and high-pitched scream this time, squashed the spider across my sheet {i know, it's disgusting, but i was freaking out and desperate!  and it was tiny.  but still.  i know.}, and stood up on the bed.

"THAT'S IT!"  i yelled.

i jumped off of the bed and ran out into our hall closet, grabbed the vacuum and hauled it into the bedroom.  

"pull everything away from the walls!"  i ordered ben in a very serious-don't-you-dare-question-what-i'm-doing-right-now tone.  and i fired up the vacuum.  i vacuumed thoroughly and frantically.  i had to, even though it was now close to midnight.  i knew that my mind wouldn't rest until i had done something to take back order of my environment, even if realistically speaking i had an idea that i wouldn't be able to destroy every baby spider out there.  

once i was finished, and my skin had returned to its normal, anti-goosebumps state, i warily climbed back into bed.  my eyes darted around, looking for any sight of quick and tiny movement.

nothing.  

i took a deep breath, and turned out the light.

but then, because my brain is so awesome, i suddenly remembered my junior year ecology class.  

follow this random thought pattern.  

i loved that class. not because i had a hankering to grow up to be an ecologist someday, or because i had a particular interest in the subject at all.  but because i had heard that it was fun, and an easy way to fill a science credit.  and boy was that true.  

our teacher ms. paulson, who was a sweet lady, was going through a hard time.  she was a bit spacey to begin with, kind of flighty, but likeable. when she would teach, she would begin by talking about something ecology-related, when the next thing you knew, you were hearing about her messy divorce and how she had to pick up in the middle of the night to take her and her child away from her abusive husband.  i genuinely liked her, and sympathized with her situation, but looking back and being honest....i don't think she was in the emotional place at that time in her life to be handling a class full of 17-18 yr olds.  

and it showed.

most days i spent in class talking with my friend tracy about the latest gossip, or when we actually had assignments, they were some type of coloring page or other time-filling, mind-numbing activities to get through our 50 minutes of class.  when we apparently we had fulfilled our coloring assignment allotment for the year, the videos started.

which is where my brain brought me to last night, during my baby spider attack.

i vividly remember watching, "when animals attack, part 4:  insects!" one day during this ecology class.  {i can't remember if it was really part 4, but you get the idea.}  you could tell that the producers of the show "when animals attack" had become as desperate as my ecology teacher when it came to not knowing when to stop.  the difference between this version and the ones previously is that those were clips of people who had caught spontaneous and amazing footage of non-premeditated real animal attacks.

this version was completely different.  each "attack" was a set up....something that the creators or whoever of the show had purposely timed and planned with a camera crew waiting.

during the video, we watched poisonous spiders hide in unsuspecting victims' shoes, just waiting for the bare foot to be slid in.  there were scorpions that were recorded biting adults, and bees stinging childrens' bare skin.  

i had goosebumps the entire time watching this video.  i found myself wondering, doesn't the camera man/woman feel guilty at all for recording these things?  for literally watching a huge spider crawl into a shoe and then just sitting there for hours, waiting to catch it bite someone so that they could make money?  watching children suffer as they just stand there and film them being stung by a bee, knowing the child was reaching their hand into an enormous beehive?  what kind of sick, sadistic people would do such a thing?

and then, the producers and filmographers {or whatever they're called}, went too far.   

we watched a man in some sort of 3rd world country, lay out a straw mat on the floor of his hut and go to sleep.  the camera was placed on the floor, so that the man's face was in plain view.  then.  THEN.  i am not making this up!  this memory is burned into my skull for the rest of my life.

the camera caught a maggot inch its way up to the man's face, and crawl up his NOSE.  the camera zoomed in on the man's nostrils, and amped up the volume so that the man's steady sleep-breathing was so loud that it was blasting through the speakers.  

at this point, my entire class yelled, "EWWWWWW!" and we all instinctively covered our noses.

but it just gets worse!  how???  warning:  this is not for weak stomachs.

well, as the camera has zoomed in on the nostril that the maggot climbed up, suddenly, you hear a squishy noise and the maggot falls back out of the nostril--covered in BLOOD-- and slowly inches away!!!!!  {seriously--how did the camera person go through with this??  doesn't anyone in hollywood have a soul these days??!?}

that was the moment i asked for the hall pass.

i blasted out of the door of that classroom ready to full-on vomit.  i was shaky, and cold and had to sit down before i even made it to the bathroom and put my head between my legs.

you just can't show something like that to a girl who has a nasty combination of a wild imagination and a weak stomach!

i didn't barf that day, but i'll tell you what.  i could never sleep on the floor again...whether it was when camping, or during sleepovers with friends, or whatever...without that image popping into my head of the maggot squishing out of the nostril all bloody and then gooping away.  i had to sleep with my face either covered by a blanket, or my hand put over both my mouth and nose to protect them.

and yes i know, i know.  i don't live in the same country.  the narrator of the show itself explained this to the viewer.  where things like that happen there, not here, and i'm a basketcase to freak out when it would probably never happen to me.  but i just couldn't fully convince myself that it would never happen to me.

so last night as i lay there in the dark, after my showdown with the baby spiders, that is the memory that came to my head.  the maggot memory.  and the goosebumps reappeared, and the queasiness came back.  except in the place of a maggot up my nostril, i imagined 3 baby spiders climbing up there while i slumbered away.

and at that thought, i immediately reached over and turned on my light.  i know it does nothing, really.  but it made me feel safer.

and you'd better believe that i slept with my sheet pulled up, and my hand over my mouth and nose.

because who knows?  those producers might have set up shop here in arizona and could be currently filming: "when animals attack, part 193: crazy baby spiders let loose on easily provoked pregnant women!"  

i mean, anything is possible....  

when weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth meet a hormonal pregnant woman.

that is IT.  


IT!


i was waiting to write about the woes of this pregnancy when the black cloud of plague had finally parted and moved away from our house, but it seems like that is never going to happen.


never.


so i'm just going to write, and write honestly.  it may sound like complaining, and it probably is.  but i just don't care anymore.  if anything, this a reminder to myself when i am no longer pregnant what actually happens to me when i am, so that i will be well aware next time of what i am getting into.  you know, in case the next one is planned and all of that.


i am laying next to a sleeping-in-between-violently-vomiting-caleb, and listening to leah cough into the baby monitor, and i am propped up sitting in my new sleeping position so that i can breathe between my own coughing attacks.


here is the thing about this pregnancy.


i had the normal everyday-24-hour-nonstop nausea that started at week 2 {i'm not exaggerating here, that was how i knew so quickly to take the test} and went until almost 4 months along.  but i endured it, hoping for that soon to be rush of feeling better and having more energy.


into the second trimester, the migraines started.  knock on wood, i can actually say that those have calmed down. 


at 20 weeks i suddenly felt like i was punched in the nether-regions so severely that it was painful to put on a pair of pants, roll over in bed, not to mention actually walk.  that feeling has not subsided, and there is nothing so far that i have found that can ease the pain.  i thought i was going crazy until i sent a facebook message out to my recently pregnant friends, asking if any of them have experienced the same thing.  and was relievedslashdisappointed to find out that it is, in fact normal.  not for everyone, only for us lucky ones.


this is separate, by the way, from the sharp, jabbing pain {aka round ligament pain} on both sides of my abdomen that i get every time i roll over or get up too quickly.  not the same thing, or even close.  that is a fleeting pain, like a charley horse.  this nether-regions pain is constant.


at 22 weeks i had what i can only imagine was a pelvic bone pop out of joint for an entire day, leaving me bent over, unable to even stand up straight.  that day i had to call ben crying, asking for him to please come home early because i couldn't even imagine picking up leah to put her in the tub & pull her back out, let alone walk up the stairs to get to the bathtub.  my fear was that it would continue, and i was going to have to call in for extra help.  luckily, at about 2am that night, i sllllooowwwllyyy rolled over in bed and cried out in pain as something in my lower abdomen/upper left thigh made a loud POP! and i immediately felt relief.  


but let's just try to chalk all of these things up to the woes of pregnancy, shall we?  


that's fine, i can deal with it.


what i can't deal with, and had a somewhat emotional breakdown last week over....is that i have these things going on combined with what has felt like continual sickness between caleb, leah and myself since, oh....october?  november?  


two sinus infections, strep throat, the stomach flu twice, on top of just the "normal" flu and colds multiple times.  round and round and round we go.  i was so excited during spring break that we were actually healthy and the thought crossed my mind that we were through the worst of it.  then the weekend came, and it looks like we still aren't, and with this new barfing caleb i am doing all i can to muster up positive thoughts that the rest of us will avoid this one.  because honestly, i'm still recovering from my last one that started two weeks ago!


it's interesting for this self-proclaimed germaphobe to now have the tables turned.


when now, we are are the germ.


i have done more laundry in these few months than i have in my entire lifetime combined, i'm sure.  i keep changing sheets, pillowcases, washing blankets and stuffed animals and towels.  i have sanitized everything.  i wash our toothbrushes in the dishwasher. i vacuum and dust, and lysol wipe it all down.  bathe the kids every day. it's never ending.


so yes, i had an emotional breakdown.  last thursday to be exact.  after coming home from my doctor's appointment, discouraged that i had another sinus infection, that it hurt just to walk, that both of my kids were sick, and that i felt like i hadn't really enjoyed this pregnancy....that is the truth.  not really, not for one minute.  


i had called ben who was watching leah during my appointment, to tell him that the baby was confirmed a girl, and he said on the other line, "oh, that's great.  congratulations."  not in a mean way, but in a somewhat distant way.  and i became really sad, because i knew the tone in his voice echoed exactly my own feelings.  i have been distant from pretty much any joy i am supposed to be feeling right now, because the only thing i have been feeling for the past few months is,


push, push, push.


i push myself to do just the daily household responsibilities.  i push myself to do anything more than that like deep clean.  i push myself to wake up to take caleb to school in the morning.  i push myself to fulfill my church calling....which should be a relatively simple one, yet in true karma fashion, we are constantly getting sick either the day before or the day of that 11-15 girls are supposed to show up to my house for an activity.  i push myself to do anything fun with my friends, i push myself to put make-up on.  i push myself to go on a vacation, and while i'm on that vacation, i push myself to do anything but sleep.


not only have i pushed myself physically when i haven't felt well, but i think the real straw that broke the camel's back is that i've pushed myself emotionally.  i have been worried about caleb, and about his legs, but i haven't really let myself go there yet.  because we've just been coping with so many other things, i have not dealt with and really let myself feel the worry.  a couple of times i have talked about my concerns, and that i'm anxious about the upcoming tests.  but mostly i've just pushed through.  


i'm also anxious about this upcoming baby....i always get anxious about newborns.  probably because my first experience with one was traumatic and my second experience with one was just exhausting.  those 10 hour crying bouts took their toll as well.  i'm usually the one pregnant girl who doesn't want the baby to come early, no matter how uncomfortable i am.  so knowing that the months are creeping by and i'm getting closer to "go time" without really working through or dealing with my anxiety about it is also taking its toll.


for 90% of the week, i am on my own in this.  ben is gone almost every week day by 6:30 am, and not home until somewhere around 9:30 or 10 pm.  he used to have fridays clear, which was so fantastic.  but lately his homework has been piling on, so he has been gone most fridays to meet with professors or to do hours worth of homework.  saturdays are our only day to work on the yard, and try to help me get caught up, and to spend a little time together.  on sundays he has a church calling, so even if i do feel well enough to go, i am usually home with one of our sick kids and have to go to the 1:00 sacrament meeting by myself.


so thursday, i rushed home from the doctor so that ben could leave for class, and walked in the door feeling completely deflated and discouraged.  


and started to cry.


"iamjustsosickofbeingsickandtiredandourkidsbeingsosickandtired!" i blubbered with tears streaming down my face.


and ben, who is so good to me, gave me a big hug and told me how sorry he was.  


i knew that he is just as overwhelmed in his situation as i am in mine.  i know he feels alone with the weight of his schoolwork and providing and helping, just as alone as i feel in my position.  we are both being pushed to the brink again.


and the problem is, when people have offered to help, i don't know how to take them up on it.  sure, want to me to send over my vomiting child to play with yours?  can you help pop my pelvic bone back into place?  can you put some mascara on for me?


so instead, i isolate.  


which i know isn't healthy, i just don't know what to even ask for, when asking for help.  so i just don't.  


except on facebook, which i am absolutely certain my friends are seriously sick and tired of me venting about our million diseases and how sick of it i am.  i'm grateful for their support though, and even though i feel like a total whiner, it helps just to have someone say that they're sorry for what we're going through, or that they've been there & it will get better.


i'd like to say that once the tears with ben were through, that i felt better.  but holy cow, thursday was an emotional roller coaster for me.  


i completely fell apart in my therapy group, so much so that when i could feel it coming, i almost got up and left just because i knew it was going to get ugly.  and i think i should have listened to that instinct, because i have never cried so hard in front of a crowd before.  you know when you can't even get words out because your throat is so tight?  and then when words come out, they squeak out instead of sound normal?   and when i was actually getting the words out i felt like such a big, enormous baby.  


i'm sobbing over being sick so much?  really?


the girls were all really nice, and didn't treat me like i was a wuss.  and have been really kind and concerned since then, but it's just so hard for me to get all vulnerable that way with people.  i have had support.  andrea has been such a good friend, and so great to listen to me complain, and to show up with a treat at just the right time.  and there are friends in the ward who have reached out, and i know i need to let someone help.  like i said though, i just don't know what to ask for.


sigh, sigh, sigh.


this writing is good, it definitely helps.  it helps me to put things into perspective.


life is not unbearable right now.  but i'm also going to let myself say that it has been hard.  i've been through harder things, but that doesn't mean that this isn't hard on me.  


i have been taking care of caleb in between writing this.  my poor little guy.  it's so hard to not be able to take this from him.  the way things have been going though, i'm sure i will get my turn.  okay, that's cynical.  honest, but cynical.  


i'm going to go and cough up a lung and then get as much rest as i can now, since caleb is finally sleeping.  


and as soon as this black cloud has parted, you will see the most positive post ever from me.  


i know i should edit this, a re-read it before i post it, because i may regret it in the morning.  but i'm totally not going to.








thanks for letting me vent.








and p.s.?  i just emailed our landlords with a request for a mold inspector to come out here.  just in case.

denise richards is a scary actress and other halloween frights...

last night, in honor of halloween, i sat down to type about my history of scary movies and how coupled with my over-active imagination, halloween is pretty much the worst time of year for me to watch any type of t.v.  {or commercials for that matter}.

but my scary thoughts were interrupted by an even scarier sound.  i had been on the phone at the time when i heard a loud and fast thump-thump-thump-thumpthumpthump coming from upstairs.  

i asked ben, "what was that?"  but he was in the middle of watching james bond {the cheesy pierce brosnan one with denise richards.  because i had put a stop to any and all scary movie-ness.  sidenote:  denise richards is a terrible actress and puts a whole new spin on the word "scary."} and had been lost in the moving emotion {snort} of the movie so he didn't hear it.

thump-thump-thumthumpthump it came again.

"that!  did you hear it??  what IS that?"  i told my friend i'd have to call her back and took off running up the stairs.  

my over-active imagination ran with me, convincing myself that i would find freddy krueger leaning over one of my children, just about to make them his tasty snack.  or that the poltergeist was hiding in leah's closet and had snatched her in to our t.v. to try to make her his forever.  i had almost resigned myself to give a call to the creepy little psychic lady who helps rid possessed houses of their evil demons. {sidenote #2:  that lady's voice creeped me out almost as much as the clowns in the movie.  almost.}

i told ben to check on caleb & i would check on leah.  as i opened her door, i let out a huge sigh.  she was safe in her bed, bum up in the air, arms wrapped around her blankies and stuffed hippo.  but she was awake, and held up her head and let out a little cry.  i couldn't believe she was still awake, it was almost 10:00 at night.  she hadn't been feeling well for the past couple of days but seemed to be over the worst of it.  i wondered if i was wrong though, and decided to give her a little drink of water, change her diaper and assess whether or not she needed some medicine.

i met ben at the stairway who confirmed that no clowns had captured caleb and drug him under his bed, and we went downstairs.  leah was fussy, whining and wiggling around.  i should have recognized the signs, but my mind was on other things, more worried about men wearing hockey masks peeking through our windows.  

when suddenly, leah barfed.  all over.

about a million green beans from dinner, a gallon of curdled milk and who knows what else came forcefully out of her and onto her favorite blankie.  she had been sitting on my lap but luckily i missed the gushing nastiness.  ben and i went into what i call "barf mode" {caleb made us professionals in this area} and as i tried to wrap the blanket to catch whatever else was coming, ben ran for the nearest bowl...which in this case held the rest of the halloween candy we hadn't handed out.  luckily ben is good in a panic {unlike me} and dumped the candy out before reaching us just in time to catch the next geyser.

it went on for a couple of minutes and then her body finally calmed down.  but leah herself was not calm at all, she was screaming at the top of her lungs.  as ben cleaned up the mess downstairs, i took her upstairs for a bath.  back in the days of caleb regularly throwing up every 48 to 72 hours, the bath would always calm him down.  but it just sent leah into more of a fit, freaking out and repeatedly trying to climb her way out of the tub as i frantically soaped her up and washed away the vomit from her hair and hands.

once she was out of the bath, she wouldn't calm down long enough for me to even put a diaper on her.  she squirmed and rolled and screamed her head off, to such extremes that i actually started wondering if we were re-living "the exorcist" and needed to tie her to a bed.  as i softly spoke to her, trying to convince her to put on some clothes, she ran around her room buck naked,  screeching at top volume.  

she carried on this way, even involving ben trying to help out.  as she screamed i could tell she was cold.  and then the next lovely moment came, when she peed on her carpet.  and it disturbed her so much that she then started yelling, "UH OH!  OH NO!  OH NO!  SOWEEEE!"  over and over.  i wiped her off, and decided to momentarily give up on the clothing, wrapped her up in her towel again, held her close and rocked in the rocking chair with her.

her little body shook with the hup-hup's and finally calmed down.  she looked at me through swollen, red eyes until i could finally tell that the need for an exorcism was over.  she sat up and let me get her dressed, then she ate some goldfish crackers, drank a little bit of water, watched a baby einstein show and finally went to sleep.

i climbed wearily into my own bed a few minutes later and soon realized that there are scarier things than my over-active imagination, such as:

-leah's post-barfing breath

-caleb waking me up at 3:30 in a sneezing fit, letting me know he didn't feel well and needed some help

-having both kids sick at the same time

-my 2 day stint in just pj's

-leah's hair, after going to bed with it wet & unwilling to let me brush it before she went to sleep

-6:30 am, when caleb woke me up again, asking me to get him another tissue

-the dark circles under my eyes, after my mostly sleepless night.

someday i will write about my history of fear that began with a halloween episode of "the facts of life" and spans up to the present time that even now causes me to have to sleep with the closet light on some nights {ben is a very patient man}.  but for today i will deal with the real, and un-imaginary. 

and i never did find out what that thum-thump thumping noise was.

the moment i realized his bachelor's degree wasn't just a waste of time.

hi.

let me paint a picture for you.

you're driving along, in the middle of nowhere, arizona.

listening to some good tunes, enjoying the road trip with your husband and two kiddos. the A/C is blowing your hair in a fantastic supermodel head-shot kind of way. you've just enjoyed some chocolate and a swig from your water bottle. you lean your head back against your seat, close your eyes and are letting the lyrics of a familiar tune take you away...

when suddenly
from the backseat, your 5 year old says,

"mom! i need to go poop!"

your head snaps up from its resting place and whips around to survey the situation.

"well buddy," you say calmly and with a twinge of hope in your voice, "we'll get off at the next exit. you're going to need to hold it for a minute or two."

and you hear the unfortunate reply,

"but i caaaaan't!"

quickly losing the twinge of hope, you then attempt the firm, there-is-no-other-option-so-you'd-better-just-hold-it-voice {also at the same time trying to channel a motivational speaker},

"HEY. you can do this, buddy. tell your body to listen to you. you are in control. mind over matter. we'll get there as soon as we can. come on, give it a try."

and you watch as your son squeezes his eyes shut in concentration. only to see a second later those same eyes pop back open as his rear end starts to raise off of his chair.

"it's not WORKING! my body is telling me that it needs to go poop NOW."

you and your husband steal worried glances at each other and realize the situation is dire.

so,

you see a small clearing off of the shoulder of the road.

your husband veers off immediately, tires screeching, and stops the car.

"what are we going to do?" you whisper with urgency in your voice. "hold his arms while he squats?"

and you can tell with the look that your husband gives you that there is no way he will volunteer for this job and you are going to be stuck with it.

not pleasant.

however, just in the nick of time, you are saved.

see, up until this point in your almost-8 year marriage, you have wondered when your husband's BA degree in recreation was ever going to serve useful in your combined life together. granted, he can roll up a sleeping bag quicker and tighter than most. he can recognize a poison oak rash from a mile away. he knows how to fashion a tourniquet out of twigs and twine and could probably survive several days if he were thrown to a barren wasteland bear grylls-style, partaking on only grubs, cactus meat and some random snake venom.

however, this was the time that...to reiterate...the degree became useful. to you.

your wilderness-savvy husband jumps out of the car and begins scouring the desert ground. you jump out and run around to rescue the 5 year old who now has beads of sweat forming on his forehead and is arching his back in an awkward position and lifting the edges of his t-shirt up and out of the way as if to say, watch out! this baby's going to blow!

you glance back at your fearless leader, wondering what in the world he is thinking and why in the world he is wasting so much time thinking it, when he yells out,

"this'll work!"

and you see that he's holding up two 3 foot sticks.

you might say that you roll your eyes in disappointment at his obvious fail. you realize that you're going to have to muster up the courage to do the hold-and-squat for your son without letting him see you dry heave when you see your husband then walk around to the trunk of the car and pull out the potty seat you have had in the back since this little adventure.

and suddenly you get it!

he is going to save the day!

you see this knight in bearded armor go behind a bush and start to dig a hole with one stick, then lay each stick down on both sides of the hole, and place the potty seat on top of the sticks.

then he turns around and with a triumphant grin says,

"wha-lah!"

and you don't care that his beard is now so long that it's starting to develop some serious curl, or that it's a thousand degrees outside, or that there is major dust in your eyes from the oncoming traffic breezing past you, or that your son still hasn't relieved himself.

you just want to make out with this miracle of a man standing before you.

and you stare at him with such admiration in your eyes that you're ready to renew your vows right there on the spot,

when you're quickly brought back to reality.

"MOM! its coming OUT!"

and you run to the strader-made porta potty and help get the little fella into the "go" position.

then, because you are an awesome mom, you take a picture.

or two.

until you're informed that he "needs his privacy" even though there is clearly none to be had. so you walk away.


meanwhile, these hooligans



decide to make the most of their time out of the car



and walk to the few surviving flowers in this climate to take pictures.








you join them for a minute, when you are called to return to duty to help "wipe" {a job no one wants to do}

and because you have been made acutely aware of the silver-dollar-sized black beetles



that seem to like the flowers as much as your daughter, you gratefully skip over to your son to assist him.

once it's all over with,

you are rewarded with a flower for being the best mom in all the world




and you smile.





and then plant on the mouth of your bearded wonder who put his degree to use today,

a reward of his very own.



********