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I apologize...again...for the lack of updates this blog has seen in recent weeks. I have had the most incredible run of sicknesses, whether hormone-induced or naturally acquired from some anonymous source. It became more important to me to keep food and drink down than update our blog. The past month and a half has seen a few golden moments in the blackness of ill health, but how was I supposed to blog about it when it was all I could do to sit up? Anyway. Things are looking up, if today's consumption of about 5 sugar cookies is any indication. I thought I'd take a few minutes to at least blog about Halloween, even though there was a visit from Grandma Cheryl and Aunt Courtnee to relay as well. That will come later, when I am not still trying to make up for over a month's worth of dirty house.
So: Halloween! Yeah, I was pretty sick that night, too. The week before found us at our ward's annual Fall Festival, where the youth have various activities planned for the kids and then the ward participates in a trunk-or-treat. Gavin had (still has) a cold and was not in the best of spirits, but he did love playing with the balloons in the "pumpkin patch" and running around in his costume. He was Blue from "Blue's Clues," and even though I got the costume for $8 off eBay it fit him like a glove! He even kept the mask on for about 20 minutes! A Halloween miracle!
We thought he ran out of a crowded room at one point, and that was the absolute WORST feeling I have ever had. We ran around the church looking for him, but it turns out that he was really in the room the whole time and Casey found him in about 10 seconds. I could have used that information while I was running around the church and outside in the dark. Horrible. I don't even want to re-live it. But he's safe and sound, and he even got a few pieces of candy that we might let him eat.
On Halloween night we carved pumpkins and decorated the house. Gavin didn't like touching the pumpkin guts but he did like trying to eat the seeds raw. Casey's Batman symbol turned out great! It's too bad we old farts didn't dress up this year, but I promise it would have been different if I weren't still throwing up. Gavin ran around in his Blue costume again, and Casey had fun answering the door for Trick-or-Treaters. I wish you all could have been a fly on the wall to hear the old fart things he was saying to these young whippersnappers. It was classic. All that was missing was a walker and orthopedic shoes.
Here's hoping that next year will be healthier, because I LOVE Halloween! What a fun holiday (at least in theory...)!
I love how Stephen Colbert addresses his audience as, "Nation." For example: "Nation, the crisis we find ourselves in at the present time is unacceptable." Since this form of address is already taken, I choose to address our reading public as "Gawkers." Just kidding.
With that pointless interlude, let me segue into the reason for today's post: I've been tagged. For those who don't know what that means, someone in cyberspace comes up with some sort of quiz or series of questions to answer and posts them on his or her blog. After answering these questions, they "tag" people they know who not only read their blog but also have blogs of their own. This means that those who were tagged now have to answer the same questions and post them on their blog for the world to see. It's kind of like a cyber chain letter, only less intrusive, because it doesn't show up in the inbox of everyone you know and promise a horrible death if you don't send it to everyone you know and Bill Gates. I have mixed feelings about tagging, but in any case it helps you get to know a different side of the bloggers you keep up with. Therefore: I shall now favor you, Gawkers, with a taste of "Brittny."
8 Favorite TV Shows:
Seriously, 8? That's a lot of TV. These are in no particular order, by the way - I'm writing as I come up with them. Apply that to all of these "Crazy 8's!"
1. Project Runway
2. Blue's Clues. One of only 3-4 QUALITY children's programs I will ever let my son watch.
3. Chuck
4. The Office
5. Sesame Street. ("And now I have to ask you: Meal...or No Meal?" Greatest parodies ever.)
6. Wife Swap/Trading Spouses. Strange, I know, but I LOVE to examine human behavior.
7. Unwrapped (Food Network)
8. Still Standing. One of the most overlooked sitcoms ever. SO funny.
8 Favorite Restaurants
1. Bombay House (or Haus)
2. P.F. Chang's
3. El Paso
4. Olive Garden
5. Firebird Rocky Mountain Grill
6. Wherever we ate at Pier 39 in San Francisco - the most divine sea bass and mango salsa EVER
7. Macayo's or Micha's
8. TCBY. Yes, it is a restaurant, because I would eat their yogurt as a meal any day.
8 Things That Happened Yesterday
1. It was COLD in Tucson - yes, you read right! It was about 45 degrees when we woke up and it stayed relatively cool - about 72 - all day! I can't even begin to tell you all how refreshing it was. It was like something awoke in me that has been dead for a long time...you know, that part of you that yearns for a visible change of seasons so you don't want to tear down all the snowmen decorations people put up here at Christmas just because you find it a horribly cruel joke...
2. Gavin went to nursery for the first time...sort of. The nursery leaders didn't show up to church, so Casey ended up substituting for the first hour and two other elders for the second hour. Next week will be his first "official/legal" week in nursery, and hopefully he will have his permanent nursery leaders there. Not to worry about him taking to this nursery thing, though - he practically shoves us out the door!
3. I didn't prepare a lesson for my 9-year-olds, as per our schedule that was handed out to us to follow, and as it turns out I was supposed to have prepared a lesson. Sigh. My solution was to combine gospel topics with fun: we played hangman. I had the kids ask any question relating to the gospel that they wanted to, and whoever asked the question came up with a word for the game based on our discussion of the answer. I decided that lynching people in church was not very spiritual, so we changed it to "dancing man." The kids were now able to create a crazy dancing man (or woman) who stood on a stage rather than hung from a rope. I think it went rather well, considering the lack of preparation and the near-creation of a disco legend on the chalkboard.
4. Our Bishop asked us from the pulpit to discuss Prop 102 on the Arizona ballot with someone this week. Prop 102 is like California's Prop 8: it would add an amendment to the Arizona Constitution that defines marriage as between one man and one woman. As members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we fully support this amendment and invite others to do so. For more information, go to yesformarriage.com
5. We figured out that Gavin knows how to tell us what a sheep says, and it is extremely amusing. If you ever want to hear it, I'll try to upload a video sometime or you can try to Skype with us on the webcam.
6. I talked to TINA for a longish time! I love her so! She inspires me.
7. I endured playing the piano for the ward choir in the absolute coldest chapel in America. I think I came out with frostbite. On the bright side, at least we are singing "My Shepherd Will Supply My Need," as suggested by yours truly.
8. As I was hanging up the phone from my evening conversation with Tina, I walked into the dark kitchen barefoot and felt a crunch. I looked down, saw a dark spot on the floor, and knew exactly what it was. A dang cricket. That's right - I crushed a rather large cricket with my bare foot. For those who have read prior blogs relating to bugs and my general attitude towards them, I'll leave it to your imagination to decide how I felt about that. Casey's reaction? He tried not to laugh. Tried and failed. He thought it was pretty darn funny. I sat there with Bert-like mad, furrowed brows, cleaning off my foot, and he tried hard not to crack. At least I made him clean it up.
8 Things To Look Forward To
1. Fall weather, at last!
2. Good food in the Fall. Mmmmmm.
3. Gavin dressing up as Blue from Blue's Clues and getting to go Trick-or-Treating this year.
4. Thanksgiving and Christmas when we finally get to be with our whole families again.
5. Casey getting into USC.
6. Getting landscaping in our backyard.
7. Having another baby...someday!
8. Casey graduating from USC...in 3 years...sigh.
8 Things I Love About Fall
1. As before noted: the weather! It is my absolute favorite season, and I love the crispness of the mornings and evenings.
2. The food, of course! Bring on the creative Halloween and Thanksgiving-themed foods for my culinary expression and my family and friends' enjoyment! This includes applesauce doughnuts, cakes, cookies, turkey, mashed potatoes, stews, soups...I need a snack.
3. The color changes in the landscape. At least theoretically. The color change here? Green from monsoon season to brown. That happened in all of a week.
4. Fall clothing - and yes, blankets are a part of my wardrobe.
5. Baseball season, or at least the postseason. I know, I know - why would I love a sport? It makes Casey so happy, so therefore we watch and enjoy it together.
6. General Conference, though it has come and gone. What a wonderfully uplifting conference it was!
7. BYU football! GO COUGS!!
8. Anticipating Christmas!!
8 Things On My Wishlist
Warning: I am totally boring.
1. Financial stability for all those who struggle in my family at this time. This really is Wish #1 for me.
2. An awesome wheat grinder. No, make that an awesome electric wheat grinder and a hand-held one.
3. An armoire for my TV. I'm growing weary of my living room looking like a college apartment, especially since there are few accessories due to the necessity for childproofing.
4. A brother or sister for Gavin
5. The ability to fly at any time to see family, or the funds to fly them down here any time
6. A Family For Joe (Just kidding, Adlishes!)
7. The ability to do some of Casey's homework for him to help him have more time (even though that's cheating...good intentions?)
8. To live closer to family. Any family.
LAST CATEGORY!!
6 Quirks
1. I make an unidentifiable noise in my sleep, not unlike grinding but it isn't really grinding. I also smack my lips. I'm no Sleeping Beauty, that's for sure.
2. I have 2 very bad pet peeves. The first is when people don't clear the microwave interface if they take their food out of it before the allotted time is up. Just press "Clear/Off," people!! The second is when people drive at an inconsistent rate of speed and I am behind them. Either drive slowly or speed by me, but pick one or the other!!
3. I am a nut for the human body. I was a teaching assistant for 3 years at BYU in a Human Biology class, working alternately with a reproductive physiologist and a neuroscientist. Chances are that if you ask me a question relating to the biology of the body, I will go into deeper detail than you ever wanted or needed to know. One plug: I honestly believe that everyone should know way more about the body than they do. I can't tell you how useful it is in medical situations to know what the heck the doctor is talking about!
4. I used to eat a teaspoon of butter-flavored Crisco dipped in sugar if I was having an intensely insatiable craving for something sweet. I will also admit that I would eat a few spoon-fulls of Jiffy muffin mixes to accomplish the same satiation. I no longer do this, I promise, but if I ever get desperate again...I better have something on hand.
5. I am losing the vision in my right eye and have been for about 5 years. It is getting progressively worse, but very slowly. Luckily, my left eye compensates and I have no special restrictions. I will say that I miss the handicap placard I used to have that allowed me to park on campus all the time!!
6. My secret ambition is to be a singer. Maybe it's not such a secret, but not in the way that every other "high school musical program" graduate dreams of. They all want to go to Broadway and think that they are talented enough to get there, but I am not that delusional. I only want to tour with an excellent orchestra and sing all the songs I love on the stage. Think Linda Eder or Christiane Noll...and if you don't know who they are, you better look them up and buy their music because they are two of the best singers in the world, hands down. If I had the talent, the time, and no family to worry about, send me on tour! For now, though, I'll just have to settle for what is the REAL best job in the world: being the mother of the world's most darling child.
I'm too exhausted to tag anyone. That was way too much work. I hope you got to know me a little bit better, though, and maybe I'll just tag Casey and let him tell you all about him sometime!
Here is just one example of why we can never leave Gavin by himself - not even for a minute:
I heard him pushing the high chair around the kitchen, not unusual, but when I looked at him 2 minutes later he was hanging out in the high chair all by himself, having climbed up into it. Did we know he could do that? No. I decided to buckle him in so he wouldn't fall out and capture the moment for posterity's sake...or for Santa Claus' sake, naughty boy!
Gavin has crazy hair. He will have to deal with 2 cowlicks going opposite ways in a helicopter-like fashion all of his days. The way I dealt with it last week was to have his hair cut pretty darn short. I like it a little bit longer so that I can spike it, but at least this way I won't have to cut it every 2 weeks. My only lament over my blond-haired, blue-eyed baby is that he looks so OLD now - he's not a baby anymore, but a little boy; a wonderfully vibrant, curious, expressive, and happy toddler who is the joy of his mommy and daddy's life and who brings joy to everyone he meets. Auntie Rachel came to visit Saturday, and we went to Golf 'N Stuff to do the Stuff part. The following are pictures of the bumper boats (notice how Joe, Rachel's innamorato, seems to be trying to drown her as he ruthlessly uses the water gun feature on the bumper boats.), our dinner at Sakura, a Japanese steakhouse, and our wandering through Traildust Town, which is a manufactured Old West town. Little did we know that there is a secret candy store in the train station! Yay for $7 worth of candy! Thanks, Rach, for the fun times and for dinner! We love you and can't wait to play again!
I'm thinking of making this a weekly feature.
No, I'm kidding. I won't pester you with tales of the largest bugs I've ever seen...except for this last one. People, I have to do it - when one goes through a traumatic experience, an outlet is needed to release all of the anxiety produced by the experience itself and now, by the memories of it. (Shudder.)
I'll spare you the dramatics, but I had an encounter with a tarantula today. (Please re-read that last sentence, shudder, clap your hand over your mouth in horror, and read on in suspense.)
It is normally Casey's responsibility to take the trash can and recycling out to the curb on the appropriate morning, but he was out of town on business and the task fell to me. I put Gavin in his high chair, loaded his tray with mandarin oranges, and set out to pull the cans to the curb. I noticed when I opened the garage door that there was a large dark shadow on the driveway. I thought little of it, thinking it was a large leaf or other foliage (looking back: a leaf? From what tree? There are leaves here?). As I strained to pull the trash can down the driveway (lest ye think I'm a total weakling or that my little try-to-be-earth-conscious family of three produces inordinate amounts of trash, I had no idea Casey had loaded the thing with two large buckets full of broken rock from when he knocked down part of our back wall. I nearly pulled my arms out of my sockets on the first yank.) and passed said "shadow," I realized to my UTTER HORROR that it was a tarantula, presumably dead, definitely hairy, too many legs, sprawled on its back in dramatic fashion, as though it had fought for its last breath by reaching one hairy leg up to the sky and falling down dead at the effort. Rather Shiz-like, if you ask me.
Let me sidestep the current story to make a comment: how many legs are appropriate and absolutely necessary for a living creature? I say the limit is definitely 4. Any remotely cute creature, human or animal, comes with a number from 2-4. (To all you devil's advocates out there, I sympathize with those who have lost limbs, were born without them, or came out of a recent surgery with one too many limbs [shout out to Brian Regan fans!]) 6 limbs are too many, which leaves the most dreaded number of all: 8 and above.
Back to the story: as I passed said dread horror and realized what it was, there were oh so many reactions. First, mental: is it really dead, or just playing dead? You might laugh at a spider who "plays dead," but I've had several experiences with such little beasts, and so has my mother. It's true - they can and do deceive us. Second, my sympathetic nervous system kicked in, initiating the fight-or-flight response. My pupils dilated, I was breathing hard, my heart was pumping very fast, and I suddenly had enough strength to chuck the trash can over that mountain, there. Sorry for the nerdy human body reference. Third reaction, which was mental again: should I ask the landscaping workers across the street if they will take care of it? I don't speak Spanish, though...how do you say "spider" in Spanish? I have to go get the other can and walk past that thing again! WHAT IF IT MOVES???
In hindsight, I really don't know what I would have done if it had moved or twitched in the slightest. I may have had a heart attack and died right there, and as I fell to the driveway I almost certainly would have tried to position my dead body as far from that thing as possible.
I had no time for dramatics, though (okay, so I lied about writing a non-dramatic treatment of the events), because I had left Gavin inside with food on the tray, and I can't do that for too long lest he choke. (Is it even possible to choke on a mandarin orange?) I scooted up the driveway, not looking at the spider and hoping that was enough to make it either lie still or disappear. Trash can number 2, which was considerably lighter than number 1, was practically shoved from the edge of the garage down to the curb without human help, and I just prayed it would stop at the curb. I ran back into the house and shut the garage door and door into the house as fast as I could, just sure that I was about to be followed.
I was shaking and sweating as I went back into the house. I was happy to see that Gavin was not choking and was in fact smiling cheerfully and waiting patiently for phase 2 of his breakfast. As I started to get his cereal ready, I called Casey because I was literally about to cry. If this experience (coupled with encounter #1 with a different, live tarantula 2 years ago) didn't show me exactly how arachnophobic I really am, I don't know what would have done it. Casey was appropriately sympathetic, but I made sure to let him know I was NOT touching that thing and he'd have to take care of it when he got home late that night. This of course had two purposes: number one, do you really think I was going to go near it?? I wasn't even going outside the rest of the day, in the back or front yards. Number two: I may have a tendency to exaggerate things for effect when the story is re-told (the size of a spider, for instance, is apparently subjective. I don't think that's true. Most are huge.) and I was darn well going to make sure that Casey saw the hairy beast in all its "dead" and poly-legged glory. He saw it all right, and I felt validated. He also may have used a shovel to chuck it back to Hades, but I did not witness that. No victim wants to face the perpetrator again.
That's my story for the day, and because I refuse to even look up a picture of a tarantula to post on this blog - no picture of a spider shall ever darken the brightness and light of this 2-legged blog - I drew a remarkably accurate representation of exactly how the thing was positioned on the driveway. You might ask how I know this, seeing as how I refused to go near it. Well, since you can see a tarantula from about a half a mile away, and since the image is burned into my brain like any traumatic experience would be, I have a very good idea of how things went down. Or at least how the little (I mean HUGE) faker would have me BELIEVE they went down:
If you will turn your attention to the red arrow, I have pointed out a leg that was draped across its body, as if it experienced some sort of great distress before keeling over. I spared you a representation of the hairiness.
Needless to say (or repeat, anyway): Why, oh WHY do we live here?
This post is intended to be a response to my last post, and a commentary on the commentary of others who chose to comment on my own less than cheery commentary. Get it?
I am truly humbled by the outpouring of encouraging words, sharing of deeply personal struggles, and the general concern for my mental (and physical) welfare that so many who read this blog showed in my last post. I received many a comment, email, Facebook message, and phone call regarding the mite of personal information I divulged about my prolonged sickness. Thank you, everyone, for sharing a little bit of your day to make mine better. I can't believe I know so many good people - how lucky am I!
I must reassure my caring public, however, that I am doing just fine - nay, better than fine: I feel normal! If "normal" seems like an underwhelming adjective to use, please remember that three years of "sick" followed by a fantastic onslaught of "normal" equals more than I could ask for. I used to get small doses of "normal" for a few weeks (and a whole 9 months of pregnancy) followed by months of yuck. I am so blessed to be on the mend, and so excited for the opportunities I can now participate in as a fun young mommy to the busiest and most darling child two adoring parents could ever hope for!
If I shared too much or caused my dear friends and family to think that my self-esteem was suffering, please don't think so. I just had an introspective day, and we all know that feeling ill makes everything look more bleak than it really is. I feel pretty good about myself as a wife and mother, but there are always always going to be things I can do better at. That day just happened to be a time in which my laundry list was slightly more lengthy than usual and the items on it were more pressing (get it? Pressing? Laundry? Wow, I'm back!). I may have made my more mellow self seem like an unwanted change, but if a level of maturity has reached me that has caused a mellowing, who am I to revert back to the hyperactivity of youth? I understand maturity, but not feeling well made me rather walking corpse-like at times. In the next few weeks I hope to leave the bad sort of mellowing behind in favor of returning to the random fun-ness that used to characterize my personality - only this time I'm sure it will be peppered with the wisdom of the post-college years (if any has seeped through, that is). Side note: Reed - my brother - turned 17 last week so I am suddenly feeling old. Somebody get me a walker and Dulcolax.
Here's to the fun times to come in which I am not lying on the couch watching my baby run around, but am the cause of his running at a fever pace across the room and away from the mommy monster!
No, really - WHY DO WE LIVE IN SOUTHERN ARIZONA?? This is not a trick question. I obviously understand that we technically live here because Casey has a wonderful job with great benefits that provides a lovely life for us (see? I'm grateful, right?). I only pose a whiny, half-serious question to illustrate an incident that happened just a few moments ago. (Oh, the suspense.)
I've been sick for three years, and after a different sort of sickness for the past week I finally felt better today. This is a big deal for me, because it meant that I didn't have to do the bare minimum to keep my child and husband alive with limbs intact - it meant that I could vacuum the floor (gasp!) and mop the kitchen floor (no!) and even venture to measure the panels for our bedroom window that I have been meaning to make for 2 years (amazing!). I'll admit that sickness has been really hard on my family and myself, not only because the house has been less than clean much of the time but because I haven't been able to do nearly any of the things I have wanted to do as a wife and mother. Those who knew me pre-chronic illness know that I LOVE to host parties and be a complete idiot (translation: have stinking piles of fun). My college photos are replete with messy, silly memories that may not have happened had I not been a completely immature 18-21-year-old with a penchant for making those who seemed to be a little more shy act like idiots in a puppet-on-a-string sort of way (i.e. for my own amusement, I guess...you know who you are...and I did it for your own good, right? Right??). We dressed up, we sang at the top of our lungs, we had food fights and kidnapped blow-up plastic chairs and held them for ransom; we made sugar cookies that looked like Middle Eastern countries, we had a Christmas tree up year-round that was decorated in accordance with the current season; I even wore spandex and a side ponytail for our Napoleon Dynamite night. But with the onset of my sickness, it was all I could do to go to class or work, much less make or even eat a meal. I have completely mellowed out the last three years, and some of my friends have noticed. I had big plans to decorate my home, go on fun outings, dance with my baby, play and laugh and run and do - but these events are few and far between for us.
Why do I regurgitate such seemingly uninteresting, unrelated to the topic and personal information? Today seemed to be a day of reflection, of trying to let those closest to me know that they can trust me to follow through on things I want and need to do but haven't had the strength to. My husband sort of started the ball rolling in this direction last night when I realized that he didn't ask me to do things not because I was sick and couldn't do them, but because I promised to do them and they seemed to never get done. Do you see the difference? I did, at least, and that one hurt.
I'm here to say, though, that if that is the impetus for change in an upward direction, so be it. To bring this semi-introspective discussion full circle, the aforementioned reason is why I was furiously sweeping the entryway tile this morning, and it is why I posed the question that I will now repeat: WHY DO WE LIVE IN TUCSON?? (I mean, just south of Tucson, of course...)
As I was sweeping, a tan-colored something caught my eye that was half stuck under the front door. Upon pulling it out with the broom, I realized it was a SCORPION!!! Yes, folks, a scorpion, complete with a stinger and arms and way too many horrible characteristics to spout off. It was about and inch and a half long, dead (thank GOODNESS - I wasn't sure at first), and I could not figure out how it got under our door.
Oh, so many things come to mind from such a small incident. First, yes, I have a decent enough vocabulary and skill as a writer to compose a somewhat amusing account of the mundane in my life. Second, I obviously need someone to talk to since this is the sort of thing I spend my "free" time doing. Third, which should probably be first, is that Gavin plays over by the door, and what if he had encountered this before I swept it up? Worse, what if he found a live one??
That settles it. We are never going outside again unless it is to get in the car, drive to an airport, and fly to a place where everything doesn't try to kill you, from the bugs to the foliage to the weather to the wildlife. Then again, this one was halfway inside before he kicked the bucket, anyway...
