Morning Sickness is a MYTH!

So I found out on Wed April 7th that I'm officially pregnant. I was relieved.

It totally explained the Barf-o-thon that had been going on for about 3 weeks. "Hi porcelain god, how are you today? Enjoying the extra offerings? Really? Huh, well, I'll try to shake up the saltine offerings. How does Ginger Ale strike your fancy?" (Conversations with inanimate objects should be considered normal for the author and not a bizarre symptom of a first time pregnancy.)

"Morning Sickness" is a myth, a down right lie, a freaking pseudo-definition for feeling ill during any darn time of the day that the inclination strikes and supposedly lets up after the first 3 months. Various sources say that's iffy.

Then this past week was finals plus exhaustion. I felt like I was wading through syrup and my brain laughed at me when I pointed it in the direction of final projects. My gray matter basically hung a sign reading "do not open until Christmas" which incidentally is about 2 after my due date. But, you can breathe, my frontal lobes and others, will be reinstated before I'm trusted with my little one. That's why I have a husband. :D

In all seriousness, I'm excited. Nervous, for sure, but excited about having a little son or daughter. Right now, I'm just concentrating on keeping my stomach where it's supposed to be.

Writing is a Riddle

She wandered the halls of this strange place looking for something that did not yet exist, but was still determined to find. It wasn't a hallway per se, but it was a semblance of one with a series of doors that didn't belong together in one apartment complex let alone in one confined area. Oak, Cherry, plastic, glass, cloth, they all mocked her knowing her mission was in vain. The real problem would begin when they would start mixing themselves up and jumping on top of one another. Doors that didn't stay put made it difficult to find things that one misplaced or didn't misplace at all, for one can know behind which door exactly said thing was placed, however, if that same door doesn't stay put, one should say that they have misplaced the door and not the thing. It's a shame that some would believe misplacing a door to be silly as they must have lost many things looking for the wrong one.

Shadows teased her peripheral vision so much that she learned not to whirl suddenly to find nothing there. Instead she continued to plow on ignoring the jumble of wire, twine, yarn or what have you that was accumulating on the floor. With each brush of her bare feet against the bizarre bramble, she was met with a sensation that either made her smile or frown or delve deeper in thought or lapse into some sort of day dream. Subconsciously, she realized she must be getting close. As an afterthought, she stooped down and disentangled wire from twine and yarn and was met with vivid images and sound. So abrupt was it that she dropped the piece of twine and yarn in surprise and the assault on her senses faded.

Once again startled, she dove back into the knotted mess careful to touch only one string of thought at a time. She avoided the ones that were made of barbed wire and wondered when it was that she had conceived them. Oh well, that riddle was for another day. Her fingertips brushed against a lone vine and a world of trees sprang up through her vision. The air was clean and somewhat humid, her clothes were already heavy with the extra moisture. The scent of flowers of all kinds saturated her nose and the sound of animals large and small whispered in her ears.

"Ah, this is the one," she murmured to no one in particular. The more she followed the vine, the more the way cleared and became less cumbersome for her journey. She met a red head and her grandmother and a man that was not a man at all. She met good people and some evil. There was magic thought to have been gone and cowardice and bravery, cunning and stupidity. She halted when all around her went inexplicably blank.

In her hand, the vine had come to a brown and withered end. Yes, this was what she had been looking for, dismal as it was. Gently as she dared, she breathed onto the little vine and began to whisper to it. Slowly at first, saplings sprouted from the ground and then with a roar, shot into the clouds. The cry of wild life rose from a stifled whimper and flowers were in full bloom once more. The heroine was falling to her death and a dark enemy was on the horizon. What to do?

She smiled, "Ah yes, I know." She began speaking again. This time the words spilled and pooled as they fell from her mouth and connected with the vine. It continued on beside her, never in front and never behind. It was her companion as she went in search of her ending.

Tosillitis and 4am Story Tid Bits

Yeah, so being able to swallow comfortably is definitely one of those things you take for granted. Then you get tonsillitis and its all kinds of "ow."

4am comes along and you realize you need another 500mg of penicillin, two Tylenol or IB Profen, and some throat spray. After that all kicks in you're amazingly happy and bizarre little stories and fanfiction crash through any hope of sleep.

You wake up your in-laws parakeet in the process, so you stick it in the bathroom and resume writing. By the time you're semi done writing, the kids are up for school and you're not quite sure if you want to crawl back into bed or keel over.

I'm opting for bed. And I hope I sleep until I can take my next dose of penicillin. If I sound out of it and sporadic, I probably am. Good night and good morning.

The Explosion of Stuffs

Wow, my last post was really just a few days before I got married?!? Holy crow!

Hmm, well, I got married (happy to boot thank you!), traveled to Ohio, saw awesome family and friends, went to Cedar Point, came back, went to Boise for a bit, chilled at home, looked for work, Mother-in-law is an angel on earth and gave us work.

I've also been finagled into getting a Farmville on Facebook. It's the new cyber crack. I've been playing with sketches and some graphic design shtuffs, and I've been kicking around some original novel ideas. I breathe some where in between all that and house stuffs and cooking.

For the moment Dustin and I are in Idaho Falls with his family. It's a nice break from the Burg.

Work is cool because it involves invoices and flowers and I can handle that. :D Yay!

Thoughts

Thoughts, I've always conceived them as something tangible, having mass, taking up space. They have to, that's the only reason why I can figure that thinking "'too much" can give you a headache. And I say "too much" because there's no such thing, in fact, it is my belief that the act of inner reflection is actually becoming an endangered past time. "Too much" is relative and in by saying means that you are thinking only more so than what you usually do. Like working a dormant muscle, it aches after use and slowly or quickly becomes accustomed to the new demands depending on your mental regime and/or expectations.

There's been many a time where there has been a cranial thunderstorm and my proverbial buckets couldn't keep up with the down pour. I simply was swept away and cleaned up after the typhoon ceased.

Then there's the act of being derailed. You may get to your destination at some point and time but the price is usually the loss of your luggage or the loss of someone else's...And that's just perturbing.

Being squished between this conjecture or that introspection is always fun too. Because, like a party, people will congregate where the fun is, so to will your thoughts. Next thing you know, you're up to your mental armpits in deliberation. It's more often than not that once this point is reached, someone will make the complimentary derogatory comment that they can smell your gray matter charring to a fine charcoal. I've often been tempted to reach up to my ear in hopes of finding that they were indeed correct and that I could cut back on some of my art costs. Alas, the insurmountable pressure in my skull would convert the smoldering mess into a cache of diamonds. I say "alas" because it certainly wouldn't be myself enjoying the profit. Diamond, Charcoal, or squishy lobes, its my brain and contrary to popular belief, you really should have one. Use is optional as we so sadly see in today's society...

But I guess I should put out a warning that some thoughts really shouldn't be entertained or allowed to expand past their birth. Take this post for instance, it shouldn't have been allowed to continue after the first word. However, like most things of importance, such as tangents and nonsense, I simply run with it. Catch me if you can!

Gone

I want to be gone. No longer have the ability to think, to exist. I want a moment apart from aching for someone who can't be here. I want a moment where my brain doesn't default to my family calmly falling apart. I want to time warp back to last year where apparently God and I were a lot closer. He's still there, hasn't moved. I've just somehow become despondent and forgot that knees were meant for bending.

Being in this apartment sometimes feels like I've been buried alive with only my thoughts to keep me company. They aren't always pretty fantastical things of mystery. Sometimes they make me question what I do, what I think, what I feel, what I know. It's enough to make me want to crawl out my own skin, my own skull.

The worst thing is, I know this just a rough patch. Tomorrow, it'll be gone, but, it doesn't make today any easier.

One thing that I always used to do when I my thoughts got too heavy was to be grateful for everything. Make a list. So here I go.

I'm grateful for the gospel even if I don't always live it as I should.
I'm especially grateful for my Savior and His Atonement. While I can never fully comprehend it, I know enough. I know when I've screwed up royal, I don't have to be afraid. I just have to acknowledge Godly sorrow, know that its my dear Savior I have offended and disappointed. Offer Him my broken heart and contrite spirit, so that He can mend it and I can move forward again.

I am grateful for my mind and my body, that they work and function as they should. I'm grateful for the scriptures Heavenly Father gave us to nourish our spirit while we are away from our Home. I'm thankful for the direction and lessons found in them as well.

I'm grateful for the Holy Ghost and his companionship, especially during moments like this.
I'm grateful for uplifting and edifying music.
I'm grateful for the people around me that serve as my examples in giving of themselves. I'm thankful for the diversity of those same people.

I'm grateful for kindness, honesty, virtue, love, trust, sunsets, thunderstorms, second chances, talents, beauty. I'm grateful for learning moments. I'm grateful for "ah-ha!" moments. I'm grateful for quiet peaceful moments.

I'm grateful for the temple. I'm grateful for keeping a journal. I've learned more about myself in keeping a record of my thoughts, experiences and habits than if I hadn't. My goal is to get back to serving in the temple once a week. The strength it offers is staggering and I haven't realized that I've missed it until now.

I'm grateful to whoever told me to make "I'm Thankful Lists" when I'm frustrated or depressed. They work.

I'm grateful for those who love me despite my quirks, my imperfections, and other oddities. I'm thankful for patience and kind words. I'm grateful that if I've crumpled under the weight of whatever is happening in my life, God gave me the strength to stand up again. There was a story shared about a woman, Donna, who when teaching about Lehi and his dream she said, “I’d put myself in that picture on the strait and narrow path, still holding to the iron rod but collapsed from fatigue right on the path.” I know how she feels. Later Bruce C. Hafen said of her, "In an inspired blessing given just before her death, Donna’s home teacher said the Lord “accepted” her. Donna cried. She had never felt her single life was acceptable. But the Lord said those who “observe their covenants by sacrifice … are accepted of me.” I can envision Him walking the path from the tree of life to lift Donna up with gladness and carry her home."

Lately, I've been caught up in not knowing everything, but I know enough. A thought taken from Elder Neil A. Anderson's talk from Nov 2008. Couple that with Bruce C. Hafen's talk, Atonement: All for All, and I should be comforted in knowing that "our spiritual journey, is a process of a lifetime."

In moments where I fell like I've been shoved into a blackhole, I'm grateful God gave me the tools to dig myslef back out. I'm grateful He gave me a mind that can bring to rememberance articles, talks and scriptures that will combat the negative thoughts that creep in.

Okay, I'm spent. I don't have the energy to poke and prod my thoughts into any semblence of coherency anymore. And that's okay, because in the words of an exceptional four-year-old, "Jesus will make everything all right." And He will, whether its helping my words make sense, or healing the broken heart, He'll make everything all right. Don't forget it.

The Mis-Adventures of Colon Cleansing

"You'll experience a ... productive bowel movement in the morning..."

Yep, those were the sales clerk's EXACT words before I purchased one of their natural cleansing products. I went this route as opposed to a store bought laxative in hopes of gently correcting inner plumbing problems... Yeeeeah...

The first step in this little cleansing ritual is called the Purifier and you take it a half hour before you eat dinner. Apparently it detoxifies my liver with an arsenal of Milk Thistle Seed Extract, something called Cracked-Wall Chlorella, and other stuff that I've suddenly been wondering if I should be taking by mouth.

Anyway, so liver has been detoxed. A half hour after I eat, I then gag down what the bottle calls Capture. This step requires every fiber type under the sun being jam packed into 8oz of water and chugged. (I liken it to drinking grit and can imagine it scrapping down the walls of my intestines)

The third and final step is Remove, and I take that before I go to bed. All of this promotes a mass exodus in the morning, sometimes, and more often than not, in two or more shifts. ...I guess the definition for "productive" has intensified since I last met it in a dictionary...