A Quarter Century

That is how old I turned today...it feels a little odd...and slightly empowering, in the sense that I can now legally rent a vehicle were I to become stranded in a foreign place. And my insurance rates should go down a bit. Score!

I want to say thanks to all the fabulous folks who sent me sweet/happy/funny birthday messages on Facebook, in text messages, and phone calls. Y'all made my day! (By the way I did get my wish from last night: today's workload was way less strenuous. Two patients in a 12 hour day. That's about 20 minutes of actual work, and 11 hours and 40 minutes of paid knitting time. Sweet.)

I wish I had something more profound or humorous to say in this moment--I feel that 25 years merits some kind of showing of how much wisdom I've been able to garner through life's experiences thus far--but the truth is: It's late and I've got nothing.......wait.......Nope. Nothing... Maybe inspiration will strike in the morning when my mental acuity is functioning on a higher level. (We can but hope.)

In the meantime, I'd like to say thanks once more. Life wouldn't be as much fun without all of you. Thanks for the memories.

(P.S. I did just think of one random funny thing I heard today that I thought I should share with you. 

I was listening to the lab tech preparing to take a blood sample from a kid who was about six or seven. She was in the zone and kind of went on autopilot when she said to this little kid, "Are you right or left handed?" He just looked at her like she was stupid and held up his hands to prove his point as he said, "Uh, both." 

Me and his mom snorted and had ourselves a good laugh while the tech just shrugged and carried on. It must be boring to live in such a humorless state of mind...)

I'm sensing a pattern...

Today was a long...odd...workday. It's a little known fact that many x-ray techs have "themed" days--days when you see a lot of the same kind of injury or body part--it's strange, but true. I have had days where I've done nothing but knees all day, or chests, or broken toes...but today's theme seemed to be unusually proportioned patients in groups...

I saw three guys in a row who were all over 6' 5". Three. In. A. Row. After the third I poked my head out of the room to see if I was being Punk'd or something, but no hidden camera crew leaped out at me. These gents were followed by three broken clavicles...who were followed by three very large ladies...who were followed by three geriatric patients with acute hearing problems...who were followed by three boys with various snowboarding injuries...and so on.

It was the weirdest thing ever...

The pattern of threes stopped at about 4:30, but the patients kept on coming. My average twelve hour day usually has me doing 10-18 exams spaced randomly throughout the day. Today, I did 32. It was non-stop craziness. At one point I started to (half) joke with the next door lab tech that I might be calling out for help as I went into labor from all the bending and lifting... Luckily everything but my muscles seems okay.

I really hope my shift tomorrow is mellow. It would be nice to relax a little on my birthday. Plus, I need to finish those other presents. Plus, I have the feeling that I'm going to be very sore in the morning. Hmm. Wish me luck!

Cutting Myself Some Slack

Today I did a lot of things...but you wouldn't know it to look at me or my surroundings.

We've got a big celebration weekend coming up with two birthdays and a wedding. So I worked on making gifts today. I finished one and the other two are in progress. (I also got a surprise visit from my Dad and we went on an unexpected grocery run. Thank you again, Dad! The groceries are a blessing and getting to spend time with you and chat was fun.)

I made excellent use of my new crafting space, and even cleaned everything thing up despite feeling sapped by my spurt of creativity...so now it looks like I haven't done anything with my day at all...

I almost feel like I should have left a little mess behind me, just to prove I was there. It's a weird feeling. But it's probably just because I'm feeling a little deflated looking at all the things I didn't do today that I can still see--like my untidy front room, the sink full of dishes, the unmade bed, and the hamper of dirty laundry. However, I am choosing to cut myself a little slack today.

I did a lot of manual labor yesterday, and (all evidence to the contrary) I spent a huge chunk of time today focusing on ways to make my friends and family happy; so instead of feeling guilty for not having a "magazine clean" space when I go upstairs, I'm going to call in some "me time" tonight and just let the stress of it go. They are not insurmountable tasks. I can tackle them tomorrow. And I know I have a partner I can rely on to help me manage both the house and my stress levels.

Life is good.

Rearranging Our Life: Part 1

Today's shout-out goes to my sister Chrissy: for being awesome and helping me move furniture up and down stairs despite being sore from moving all her own stuff around the day before. And also for doing my dishes. Thank you! :)

With her help I was able to completely finish organizing the downstairs office/craft room today. We also made quite a bit of progress on the future nursery--but it's not quite ready to be revealed yet. (In fact, I'm thinking of saving those pictures for when it's all the way done--meaning painted, decorated, etc., and not just de-junked--I think it will be a more dramatic reveal.)

But here, without further ado for your viewing pleasure, are the before and after pictures of the downstairs. I stole Patrick's phone to take them, since it's the only thing that allows me to actually upload the photos to the computer; hence, the scope of the photo shoot is somewhat limited. (Also, please don't judge my clutter too harshly--it kind of accumulates when you never have reason to use the room other than to put stuff in it.)

Top of the landing on the stairs. There are no after shots because it got too dark for the cell phone to compensate. But imagine nothing but pristine, flower scented carpet and you've got the general idea. :)

Bottom of downstairs. It is now also pristine. (P.S. Can you make out the improvised "cat flap" that Patrick cut into the basement door? One day I will have a real cat flap there. Until then, this little portal serves quite nicely.) 

Craft Room Before
(I would stand here in the doorway and think, "There's just no way I can tackle this right now." And then I would shut the door and repress the memory.)

Craft Room Before
(Once upon I time my sewing area was in the process of being organized...and then somehow everything sputtered to a halt and never picked up momentum again until today.)

Craft Room/Office After
Patrick has been so excited to use this space. I'm kind of excited at the thought of having some "parallel play" company. When I want to work on a project, he can come down, pop in his headphones and play a game, or watch a show with me.   (P.S. Do you see the bookshelf? I cut my collection back to just two shelves and was able to use the rest for crafting storage. I look at my one little shelf of fabric and think of my sister's twenty-something totes and shake my head and laugh. I'll probably get there one day. Maybe. I'm not as prolific a seamstress as she...)

Craft Room/Office After
This is as much of the sewing area as you're gonna see because Patrick was in charge of taking the after shots while I got dinner ready...I think we can safely assume he's more excited about the computer stuff. :) So, you'll just have to take my word for it when I tell you that the sewing/knitting area is now immaculate.  By the by, this shot also features the horribly ugly, yet inexplicably comfy chair that will move into the nursery once I slipcover it. (P.S. Can you find the new wall decoration that Patrick picked out while I was getting some organizational drawers? Ten points if you can name the character.) 

Before I close this post, I would appreciate it if you would all join me in a moment of silence for the tragic passing of a project.

As I was going through all my yarn I found two sweaters I had knit that were nearly finished. One required some ribbing around the neck, and the other had one sleeve waiting to be cast off. They were 98% done and represented a significant portion of my time as well as a sentimental attachment (one was the first thing I ever made for myself, and the other was the first sweater I had made for Patrick)--and they had been eaten by moths. I sat stunned for a moment when I found them, and then wept bitter, silent tears as I placed them in the trash bag. They would have been beautiful sweaters--one had a very intricate cable pattern and the other some fun colorwork motifs--lovely, soft, and warm...and now they are gone too soon from my life. It was a harsh lesson to learn, but I have taken steps to protect my budding stash and current knit projects from the same dismal fate. I would like to urge any fellow knitters out there to learn from my mistake and protect themselves before having to toss away nearly $80 worth of wool and a whole lot more in love, sweat, and tears.

Thank you.

Oh, oh, oh! I almost forgot that I could end on a happy note! I would also like to say a big thank you to my Mother-In-Law, who surprised us by buying the baby's crib for us as my birthday present! Thank you, Lisa! It's such a relief to be one step closer to bringing our daughter home without having to worry about the added financial burden. Thanks a million!

I Just Needed a Little Push

Today I would like to send a thank you out to my sister-in-law, Laura for giving me the push I needed to get started on the nursery.

I know I said something about trying to get all my de-cluttering done during the month of February...but that obviously didn't happen. You see, it's very hard for me to get motivated about large projects like that unless I can visualize the end result. And, try as I might, I just couldn't see the nursery coming together. Until yesterday.

I got a message from Laura, asking if we had found a crib yet. We hadn't. We had done some browsing online and in a few stores, but we could never seem to get our financial stars aligned. We either had the time to go get the crib, or we had the money...but never both together. Story of my life. (I'm sure you can all relate.)

Anyway, Laura was kind enough to do some digging on this perpetual Facebook yard sale and found gently used crib with mattress for $50. I was at work, and love Patrick though I do, this is just not his kind of thing...She went the extra mile and contacted the seller and organized everything for us so that we could just go pick it up later that evening. Talk about angels on earth--I'm so grateful to have such sweet family members.

When we got to the seller's apartment, they were very nice and helped us load everything into the back of the car. And as we drove home I realized the time had come. This whole pregnancy thing just got real...I mean, sure I've got all these physical reminders of what's going on; but somehow, knowing that we had a crib to put together made it feel like I was running out of time and that I better get ready to have this kid now.

So today, after church, we unloaded the crib from the car and started to crack down on all the projects we needed to do before we can focus on the nursery.

Patrick rewired our cable so that we could move the computer desk downstairs. I started de-cluttering and deep cleaning the carpets downstairs. (FYI, it's the first time I went down since the flooding incident. I know it's irrational, but I was so scared about finding major water damage when I opened the craft room door, that I convinced myself it was better to just avoid the room all together and hope for the best. Stupid, but true. And, thankfully no--there was no damage of any kind. Whew!) And while he was hauling furniture up and down stairs and  re-setting all the electronic equipment, I also started to clear out the upstairs room to make a place for all the baby's stuff to live until we get the nursery floor plan settled. It doesn't really look like anything has changed at the moment, but believe me, it has! I keep having the lyrics of a Disney song run through my head, and it's turning into my mantra for tackling this project:

Watch the baby tortoise inching up the hill,

It may seem to you he's merely standing still,

Though the steps he takes are infinitely small,

They're a step in the right direction after all!

I did take before pictures, but I refuse to post them until I have the afters as well...I don't want you to see the shameful amount of clutter and random crap strewn all over my house until I have proof that it's all been taken care of. I will do my best to make sure I can post them tomorrow though... Chrissy is coming up to help me haul some stuff around so that Patrick can move the last of the furniture when he gets home from work. It sounds eminently do-able in this moment--fingers crossed that tomorrow's events prove my theory true!

On the upside, I didn't die...

Remember how last night I mentioned that I was afraid I wouldn't blog if I had to wait until I got home? Well, turns out that premise was totally true, just not for the reasons I thought. As it happens, I actually had a very eventful (read: stressful) evening last night--and it all started almost the second after I had finished posting. So, settle in with a blanket and bowl of popcorn because this story might take a while...(Disclaimer: this post will contain some curse words. I thought about editing them out after I read through this, but the effort seemed like too much after all the writing I had just done. If you're offended, I'm sorry. Maybe you can replace them with more innocuous phrases when you read this to yourself...like "stars and garters" or "darn-tootin.")

Let us set the stage, shall we?

It seemed to be a typical after hours shift at the clinic. People were arriving in en masse to been seen for a variety of cold and flu symptoms from the lingering winter weather; with a smattering of teenage boys and grown men being seen for sports or manual labor related injuries. We were unlucky in the fact that there had been no lunch earlier that day, and as the time worn on to the middle of the shift our collective stomachs began to rumble--sending us to forage through the candy jars and our co-workers "secret" stashes of snacks. But all was not as bleak as it seemed...We were fortunate enough to be working with one of the more thoughtful and generous providers; and he very kindly offered to buy us all dinner. However, there was just one catch: he could order and pay for the meal, but someone else would need to go pick it up.

Well, I thought, I could do it. After all, he can't go because he needs to be here for the patients, and same goes for the nurse and MA. The lab has been slammed running all those throat cultures, and we only have the one receptionist...and I haven't had a patient for about an hour since that kid who slipped at recess... "I can go," I said. Little realizing that those three small words effectively strapped me onto a roller coaster of hair-raising stupidity that would last for two hours. Everyone thanked me, and he was handing me his card and the written order when I realized I had no idea where the heck he had even ordered from.

"Um, where am I going?" I said as he turned to walk away. "Oh, Maddox," he said. "It's out in Perry right before you get to Brigham City." He then proceeded to describe the area as I nodded and tried to look like I actually understood his directions. (I totally didn't understand his directions.) I waited for him to walk away and then quickly swiveled around to my computer to get directions from Google Maps. I should have just printed the damn thing off then, but I was overly confident in my navigational abilities...after all, it looked like a straight line from my office to the restaurant.

Yeah, well, turns out that a straight line doesn't feel so straight when you are on an unlit back road trying to squint as you pass street signs making sure that you're still headed in the right direction. Everyone had described it as about a 10-15 minute drive but it felt like I had been going for much longer than that. I don't know for sure, because I didn't think to check the clock and time myself as I pulled out of the parking lot. But I started to lose my confidence...I thought about the time I had tried to drive to Logan by myself for the first time and only realized something wasn't right when I started to see signs saying Pocatello in 30 miles...Or the time I almost turned onto the off-ramp of the freeway because I was at an unfamiliar intersection in the dark...you get the picture.

Well, I was so focused on trying to drown out the voice in my head saying, You can't do this! You got lost in Bountiful, moron! That's your own hometown...how the hell are you going to find your way to Perry--a town you never even heard of-- in the dark without a sense of direction or GPS? that I almost died.

I was just cresting over a slight rise on the road when not ten feet in front of me I saw three deer strung out across the road. (Just so you know the speed limit here was 55 and I may have been doing something more like 65 as I tend to get "lead foot" when I'm stress driving.) Well I let loose a scream and a stream of very un-lady-like language while one hand flew down to cover my belly as I clenched my entire body. (Not like my hand would have helped the situation much, but I can safely say that I was not thinking rationally at that moment.) I thank heaven above for granting me a moment of ninja-like reflexes as I swerved between the two does that were farthest apart...narrowly missing them by about 3 inches on either side of my vehicle...I never hit my brakes, I just took my foot off the gas until I coasted to a stop on the side of the road, and slowly unclenched my muscles and discovered I was crying. I also discovered that my bladder had started to react to the sudden appearance of the deer before I did, because as I tried to relax I realized I had involuntarily peed somewhere in my brush with death. Not a whole super lot--but enough to leave a damp spot between my thighs. Now I was crying out of frustration.

It was at this point in the drive that I said "screw it" and called the receptionist so she could give me directions to the freeway. At least that road would be lit and deer-free. Somehow my voice stayed steady through the entire conversation, so I was spared having to explain my tears, although I did apologize profusely for getting lost. (I found out later that if I had kept going straight for about five more minutes, I would have been there. I hate nighttime driving. And deer. I now feel that Chrissy may have had a point all these years...)

While I was calming down from the whole deer incident and had managed to find the freeway, I was still flustered enough that I didn't realize I was in the wrong lane to get on the Northbound I-15...

Yeah, I got on the Southbound instead and wasn't able to get off until I was almost back where I had started. Now I was pissed...literally and metaphorically. I turned around and got back on the Northbound and called my husband. He answered with a friendly "Hey, sweetheart" and it was all I could do to try and speak around my hysterics and tears. I demanded that he get to a place where he could look up where I was and give me turn by turn directions on how to get to the restaurant before my night descended any further into the seventh circle of Hell...he did. And he also did his best to calm me down, which admittedly wasn't much, but I do appreciate the effort. Now. I'm not sure, but I think I may have called him some names at the time...I love you, sweets, so you know I didn't mean it.

With his help I was finally able to find the stupid place. However, there had been a fender bender type accident at the intersection where I needed to turn so I sat staring malevolently through the traffic for another 15 minutes until it was my turn to go through. Seriously?!, I thought, There is no way this night could get any worse. Oh, but it could.

Turns out that Maddox isn't just a one building restaurant. No, it's a sprawling complex of three different buildings. And, wouldn't you know it? I picked the wrong one.

I got confused trying to figure out which entrance I was supposed to go to, and I finally got fed up. So, I parked in a handicapped spot--which was pretty much the only open spot in the entire lot-- and started to march up to the front doors looking splotchy from crying and--I suddenly realized--probably still smelling slightly of urine. Great. Now, in a rush of embarrassment I was trying to take small, mincing steps to hide any possible pee stains that I hadn't had time to check for yet, and I was drawing funny looks from the sizeable crowd of people waiting to be seated. It wasn't until I got to the front desk that I realized all these people were in Sunday clothes...I had picked the "fine dining" portion to walk into and pick up my order while wearing pee-scrubs. Even more awesome.

When I finally reached the line of people waiting to talk to the lady behind the desk, I looked up and saw a wall clock that said it was ten to eight. My clinic closes at eight. I called our receptionist again, told her a bit of what happened to make me so late, and asked her to check if I should even bother picking the food up at this point. Surprisingly she said yes; apparently we'd had a spurt of last minute check-ins and would be staying a little late anyway. Well, at least this trip wouldn't have been for nothing. I also felt very lucky that the woman at the desk was so nice and professional; despite my mistake of coming to the wrong door, she let me pay for everything there and called the kitchen to tell them to bring the order up to me.

I was standing around in the fancy people's lobby, trying to be inconspicuous, when I suddenly heard someone calling my name. I turned around, thinking it might be the food already, but no--it was a group of ultrasound techs from my department. They had just been about to leave when one of them recognized me and they all came to say hi and pat my belly. Normally I wouldn't have minded, and would have loved to chat with them for a bit, but the only thing running through my brain was, Please don't let them see I peed. Please don't let them smell I peed. Please just let me crawl in a hole and die right now.

Thankfully I was saved by the arrival of my order after only two minutes of standing with a forced smile and my legs clenched so hard together that I was getting sore. I grabbed up the bags while saying my goodbyes and trying to make the most graceful exit I could while still attempting to perfect my weird little "geisha walk." Based on the looks I got, I think I still have some practicing to do...

The drive back to the clinic was much less eventful. I think Someone finally took pity on me...I walked through the doors about two minutes after they finished with the last patient, so everyone just sat down in the break room to chat and commiserate about my driving experience. Well, they sat. I tried to lounge nonchalantly against a wall while eating...I had declined to tell them about my incontinence issues and they were all so focused on the food that I don't think anyone noticed that I kept my back to them at all times...But as soon as I had finished, they all pressed the leftovers on me, saying I should take them home to try and make up for the drive. (Yeah, right. Still, it was a nice gesture and it meant I wouldn't have to worry about what Patrick would attempt in the kitchen...so take them, I did.)

Patrick called to check on me as I was driving home, and wanting to know if I'd like to see a movie or do something fun after my freak show of a night. I thanked him and asked if I could take a rain check on the movie--all I had left in me to do that night was bathe before falling into bed.

Yeah, I totally wouldn't have blogged then...But on the plus side, I didn't die--from a collision or embarrassment--and I have a movie date to look forward to when I get off work tonight. Monty Python was right: "Always look on the bright side of life."   

Taking Care of Business

I do apologize for (once more) missing a night of posting. Luckily it was the last day of February, so I still can make the goal to do better in March. What happened was this: I picked up Patrick from work after spending a lovely, comfy afternoon at my sister's. (I was debating about not going because I had to do stuff around the house, and then she pointed out that she now has two sets of washing machines so I could bring laundry...I wasn't about to pass up the chance to get away from my own messes while playing around with her new space-agey equipment. Plus I actually did put a sizeable dent in my laundry pile. Happiness!)

Anyway, usually after his workdays all Patch wants to do when he gets home is vegetate in front of the TV and unwind, but last night he was bitten by some kind of productivity bug and spent most of the evening rearranging our auto insurance to ease some of our financial stress. I just went to read and lie down... Unfortunately, it turns out that the website's server was experiencing a glitch so that instead of purchasing just the one auto policy to bundle with our homeowners insurance--he bought six. The page had become unresponsive so he tried refreshing it...six times. I was woken by a stream of muffled cursing through the bedroom wall and I heard him making a terse phone call. Luckily he was able to get a hold of an insurance representative who put everything on hold until he could call during normal business hours in the morning. I was mainly surprised that I didn't get very stressed out at all by this...I just chuckled and went back to sleep.

Fast forward to today. I was scheduled to work a twelve hour shift while Patch had the day off, so we knew he'd be spending most of his morning on the phone sorting everything out. Which he was able to do--just so you know. However, it was a fairly lengthy process of back and forth phone calls between him, me, the bank, and the insurance agent...And after a busy spurt this morning, I had a lot of time on my hands so I sat down and decided to do all those annoying tasks that I keep putting off: like clearing out my email, updating my information for my student loan financing (I've been getting increasingly acerbic reminders for three months now), making a list of all my user names and passwords for the important sites that I rarely have to use--so I don't have to keep making up new ones, and paying some more bills.

Not the funnest day ever, and not much to show for the hours of work it took me to finish it all; yet, I feel like I've accomplished lots of things today. Which is good, because I'm betting that I'll probably use up the last of my motivation/energy trying to get through the last hours of this shift and I'll go home and crash. (FYI that's why I'm blogging now. I'm trying to avoid this dreaded missing post habit I've developed. Maybe if I try to blog earlier, I won't miss so much...and maybe it'll be more interesting and less of me saying how sleepy I am.)