Ben was reading in one of my pregnancy books the other night. He skipped ahead a few chapters and he started reading a section aloud that said something like, "Are you having very vivid dreams lately? Do you remember your dreams more when you wake up? Do your dreams seem more bizzare and real than normal?" As he read aloud I kept saying, "Yes....Yes...Yes!" I have super weird dreams. At least now I can blame them on pregnancy.
The book had a little table of explanations like: if you dream about your mother, it means you're feeling anxious about becoming a mother. Or if you dream about past loves or relationships, it means you want to feel attractive. That makes me laugh. Anyway, I looked down the list for an explanation of aggressive behavior in dreams, because mine are like that quite often. I've had dreams about being annoyed that some guy left a sock on the floor so I beat him up and shoved him down a set of stairs, or my brother was being annoying so I kicked him to the ground. What is wrong with me?! And the dreams are so real to me that I wake up and I'm all stressed out. I say to Ben, "I had a bad dream" and then he's sweet enough to ask me to tell him about it. It's turning into a daily wake up routine for us.
Last night I had a dream that I was on SPAC again (SPAC is the backup folk dance team at BYU). This other girl and I were sent out to find tour clothes, and we found some skirts that were really cute. So we come back, and Lindsay O. says we can't wear those and that she's deciding that we're going to wear black pants and white shirts. So I'm all, "Who made you in charge? You don't get to decide. The rest of us like the skirts." So then Lindsay gets mad, steals my tap shoes, and tells a bunch of guys to play tennis with my shoes. I was so mad and crying because I could see my shoes getting whacked and the taps breaking in half and I couldn't do anything about it. Gosh Lindsay. Thanks a lot.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Monday, August 2, 2010
Time to Move
Ever since we moved into this house last year, it's been nothing but trouble.
#1: Bugs.
I don't know where they come from, although the holes in the floor and the ceiling and the cracks in the windows that have been cleverly hidden by the landlord with duct tape might give me some clues. Just a few highlights: waking up in the morning and having to turn the shower on early to get all the little bugs down the drain that have taken over the tub; sitting in bed reading a book when I turn the page and find an earwig crawling up the page; going in the bathroom and finding a box elder bug in my hair, then a few minutes later finding it on the front of my button-up pajama shirt--I was trying to scream and communicate to Ben that "It's ON my shirt" but he translated it as "It's IN my shirt" and proceeded to tear off my clothes to save the day.
#2: Birds.
There's a dumb looking breezeway built in front of the house. And last fall we knew that a bird was living up in the entryway. It's scary enough to walk outside and have a startled bird fly out just above your head. But add a NEST and babies this spring and it gets worse. Highlights: admiring the never-ending poop running down the front of the house every day; coming home and almost stepping on the dead baby bird(s) who didn't seem to pass the natural selection test and was now resting in a very shallow grave on my front porch.
#3: Mice.
When it started getting cold in the fall, we started to find poop in places it shouldn't be. It got to the point where we had about 5 mousetraps set up around the house at one time. And not just any mousetrap--I'm more partial to the kind where the mouse goes in, doesn't come out and the indicator light let's you know it's done it's job. No unsightly mess. But I'm a girl and didn't grow up on a farm. Ben is a fan of the old-fashioned "snap-you-in-half-let-your-eyeballs-bug-out-and-your-blood-splatter-everywhere" kind. He also assures me that peanut butter is the best bait--not cheese. So which kind do you think we got? Here's the highlights: getting to the point where I didn't even freak out anymore when I saw a mouse running across my counter and onto the floor (that's right--one counter. About 12 inches across. ONE counter.); lifting up the stovetop to find a colony-sized amount of caked-on poop sludge underneath; having to take care of 2 dead mice myself with Ben on the phone cheering me on--and yes, they were buggy-eyed, had splattered blood on my floor, and rigor mortis had set in (I'm serious. Imagine that stiff body all the way to the end of the tail)...
Which brings me to today. Since I've been feeling so sick for the past 4 months, Ben has been the man in charge of food and the kitchen. And the other day, after cleaning the kitchen, he informed me that he found mouse poop on the stove and backside of THE counter. *Ugh* I thought we'd solved this. So he smeared on the peanut butter and set up the last mousetrap right next to the fridge. This morning, I finally got out of bed around 10am (don't judge me-I'm pregnant) and walked into the kitchen to get some breakfast. What do I find? A mousetrap turned upside down, with a sprawling dead mouse laying underneath it. I called Ben at work and he came home right away to dispose of the corpse (I am no longer brave). After throwing it away, he comes back inside and says, "At least he had a good last meal."
It's time to move.
#1: Bugs.
I don't know where they come from, although the holes in the floor and the ceiling and the cracks in the windows that have been cleverly hidden by the landlord with duct tape might give me some clues. Just a few highlights: waking up in the morning and having to turn the shower on early to get all the little bugs down the drain that have taken over the tub; sitting in bed reading a book when I turn the page and find an earwig crawling up the page; going in the bathroom and finding a box elder bug in my hair, then a few minutes later finding it on the front of my button-up pajama shirt--I was trying to scream and communicate to Ben that "It's ON my shirt" but he translated it as "It's IN my shirt" and proceeded to tear off my clothes to save the day.
#2: Birds.
There's a dumb looking breezeway built in front of the house. And last fall we knew that a bird was living up in the entryway. It's scary enough to walk outside and have a startled bird fly out just above your head. But add a NEST and babies this spring and it gets worse. Highlights: admiring the never-ending poop running down the front of the house every day; coming home and almost stepping on the dead baby bird(s) who didn't seem to pass the natural selection test and was now resting in a very shallow grave on my front porch.
#3: Mice.
When it started getting cold in the fall, we started to find poop in places it shouldn't be. It got to the point where we had about 5 mousetraps set up around the house at one time. And not just any mousetrap--I'm more partial to the kind where the mouse goes in, doesn't come out and the indicator light let's you know it's done it's job. No unsightly mess. But I'm a girl and didn't grow up on a farm. Ben is a fan of the old-fashioned "snap-you-in-half-let-your-eyeballs-bug-out-and-your-blood-splatter-everywhere" kind. He also assures me that peanut butter is the best bait--not cheese. So which kind do you think we got? Here's the highlights: getting to the point where I didn't even freak out anymore when I saw a mouse running across my counter and onto the floor (that's right--one counter. About 12 inches across. ONE counter.); lifting up the stovetop to find a colony-sized amount of caked-on poop sludge underneath; having to take care of 2 dead mice myself with Ben on the phone cheering me on--and yes, they were buggy-eyed, had splattered blood on my floor, and rigor mortis had set in (I'm serious. Imagine that stiff body all the way to the end of the tail)...
Which brings me to today. Since I've been feeling so sick for the past 4 months, Ben has been the man in charge of food and the kitchen. And the other day, after cleaning the kitchen, he informed me that he found mouse poop on the stove and backside of THE counter. *Ugh* I thought we'd solved this. So he smeared on the peanut butter and set up the last mousetrap right next to the fridge. This morning, I finally got out of bed around 10am (don't judge me-I'm pregnant) and walked into the kitchen to get some breakfast. What do I find? A mousetrap turned upside down, with a sprawling dead mouse laying underneath it. I called Ben at work and he came home right away to dispose of the corpse (I am no longer brave). After throwing it away, he comes back inside and says, "At least he had a good last meal."
It's time to move.
Friday, July 30, 2010
It's a....baby!
It's been over a year. Maybe it's time for a new post.
Big news for us: baby on the way, due Christmas day! We had our third ultrasound a couple weeks ago--and it finally looks like a baby! It's exciting. Oh, and we're old-fashioned--we're waiting for the "It's a....(insert boy or girl)!"
I just don't understand those women who say they love being pregnant. I hate it. I keep telling Ben that this might be the only baby we have. Is it really possible to forget how awful this all is? Obviously, because people keep having babies. Or maybe I'm just a weenie and can't handle the nausea and barfing and headaches and backaches and heartburn and everything else that this adventure has in store. Sigh. But look how cute that baby is!
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
We have joined the blogging world. I can't believe it.
We are trying to make a blog. Okay, Ben doesn't really care...so I'm trying to make a blog. I have just successfully added a photo to the page. Now I don't know how to make it smaller or do anything else. But it's kind of exciting!!!
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