This last weekend, Brandon finally dragged me out to the field for a camping trip. I love camping; I'm not sure why it took me getting pregnant to decide to go! Bad idea! I had to have been the worst student Brandon's ever had. The heat was kicking my butt and I was peeing every 15 minutes to an hour. I really tried hard not to complain because I know how much he complains about students :)
The first thing we got to do was hike up a steep trail to a log cabin! How dreamy, haha! Of course, my daughter was leading the way like a pro and I was so off balance and trailing behind. I had to have help up the treacherous parts, which Brandon scoffed at. "I would never help a student up! I laugh at them!" Yeah buddy, well you didn't impregnate them with your evil spawn either!
The log cabin was beautiful when you got past all the wild animal pee and poop everywhere. This guy knew how to build a house. A tree had fallen over on it and it hadn't budged! The chicken coop was still standing and there were remnants of the outhouse. We picked lots of huckleberries that were surrounding the cabin. Well, no, they picked berries while I stared at the log cabin and pretended I lived there :)
While we were watching Brandon chop down wood for the fire, Liberty picked a bunch of wild strawberries. Man, they were good! Liberty got to play in a little brook that was close by. It was so peaceful. I think it should be mandatory that SERE wives have to go there. We need to understand the beauty and the hardships. And we need the peacefulness! Getting back to those hardships...
Pregnancy is disgusting. Luckily, I found a made up toilet lid on a box. Obviously I brought along a roll of Charmin Ultra Soft. So, the peeing ALL the time wasn't too bad after you stopped caring if anybody was going to walk up on your naked butt sitting on a box. In the morning, however was a different story. I had to poop. It happens. I get to my toilet box and scope the area for anyone watching. It was clear. Too clear. I mean so clear that I couldn't find my Charmin! Someone stole my Charmin! Maybe an animal, but I'm betting some crappy SERE instructor trekked out to use the toilet and laughed at such a stupid civilian accessory and swiped it! If that wasn't bad enough, there was a squirrel who obviously hated me in his territory. He threw something at my back and started barking like mad at me. Can't I just poop in peace?
There's also nothing like morning sickness out in the field. I love my toilet. If I'm going to have to puke up my guts every day, I try to make it fun. I put one of those blue discs in the toilet so now my puke can look like colored art. It makes it so much better! I have a perfect sitting stance and routine. That all goes away when you are left lying in the dirt puking into a hole you dug up.
I spent one night in the woods and I was so drained for 2 days afterward. I couldn't imagine these guys spending 25% of their time in the woods. I have a new respect for all of them. It's fun, but it's so hard on the soul. Unless your soul doesn't care about beautiful blue toilet water and Charmin Ultra Soft toilet paper.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
We passed 5 graves today... traveled 15 miles.
There are young women in this world who get knocked up by different guys and say, "It is against my religion to be on birth control." Is it not against your religion to be a whore? Stop the picking and choosing with what you want to believe in! Having said that, I love 16 and Pregnant and Teen Mom.
I was informed today that I may be taking the pioneer thing too far in my life. A friend of mine dreamed that she asked me for a tampon and I told her I don't use tampons/pads anymore. I use rags and just wash them over and over. I could never go THAT far, but it sure is funny!
I am scared to death that this baby will be a boy. I'm sure I would love a baby boy; don't get me wrong. Boys are disgusting. I've noticed this a lot more now that I'm constantly running for the toilet. There is nothing worse than throwing your head down a toilet and having to taste that awful prune juice a second time while trying to avoid touching/seeing/smelling urine all over the rim. If I accidentally have a drop of pee fall onto the lid, I wipe it off. Easy. Done. Why can't men/boys do this as well? Why didn't the men's mommies teach them this? Will I be able to teach a little boy to have some respect? To end this rant... I'll have to admit that after this past incident, my only thought was to plot rubbing period blood all over men's toothbrush handle. Let's see how they like to get that up close and personal to our bodily fluids.
I never get shocked when I see that God has caused a natural disaster. It's horrible, I agree. I am just never blown away or have to gasp when I see this stuff on the news. On the flip side, I am constantly shocked when I'm reading my Facebook news. How did God create these train wrecks we call certain humans?!
The Bible says not to judge. God is the judge. I can't quite wrap my head around this. I must judge. It comes naturally to me. It's an actual need. How am I supposed to be cautious? I have to protect my life from psychotic people. I need to know where to draw the line. I have to protect my kids from murderers, rapists, ect. We must do this and we must expect to be judged. Isn't your "gut instinct" really just a natural judgement?
I was informed today that I may be taking the pioneer thing too far in my life. A friend of mine dreamed that she asked me for a tampon and I told her I don't use tampons/pads anymore. I use rags and just wash them over and over. I could never go THAT far, but it sure is funny!
I am scared to death that this baby will be a boy. I'm sure I would love a baby boy; don't get me wrong. Boys are disgusting. I've noticed this a lot more now that I'm constantly running for the toilet. There is nothing worse than throwing your head down a toilet and having to taste that awful prune juice a second time while trying to avoid touching/seeing/smelling urine all over the rim. If I accidentally have a drop of pee fall onto the lid, I wipe it off. Easy. Done. Why can't men/boys do this as well? Why didn't the men's mommies teach them this? Will I be able to teach a little boy to have some respect? To end this rant... I'll have to admit that after this past incident, my only thought was to plot rubbing period blood all over men's toothbrush handle. Let's see how they like to get that up close and personal to our bodily fluids.
I never get shocked when I see that God has caused a natural disaster. It's horrible, I agree. I am just never blown away or have to gasp when I see this stuff on the news. On the flip side, I am constantly shocked when I'm reading my Facebook news. How did God create these train wrecks we call certain humans?!
The Bible says not to judge. God is the judge. I can't quite wrap my head around this. I must judge. It comes naturally to me. It's an actual need. How am I supposed to be cautious? I have to protect my life from psychotic people. I need to know where to draw the line. I have to protect my kids from murderers, rapists, ect. We must do this and we must expect to be judged. Isn't your "gut instinct" really just a natural judgement?
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Pioneers knew a thing or two that we should learn
1. When your grandma tells you in your last month of pregnancy to aggressively rub and squeeze your nipples, listen and don't laugh or disregard. Have your husband do it for all I care. (Though I'm sure your grandma won't tell you that part)
2. Dogs listen to commands, not to manners. I'm not telling you to disrespect animals, but when you tell them to get down; they will. However, when you say thank you they will forget the down part and jump on you to try to figure out what thank you means.
3. After dinner, wait until the dishes are cleaned and put away before your cigarette. We really need to get back to the mentality of waiting for gratification. If you argue with me, I'll politely remind you that studies have been shown if you prolong your orgasm; it will be extraordinary.
3a. Please do not read that last line as, "wait too long in between orgasms. That does NO ONE any good.
3b. If you receive an extraordinary orgasm, do not think of a pig's 30 minute orgasm and get jealous feelings. It will ruin what you had. Pigs need some perk in their life. Deal with it and get over it.
4. Music can be a bad influence. When you sing MY BROWN EYED GIRL over and over, your blue eyed daughter will eventually feel insecure. She will then condenscendingly inform you that you have muddy eyes and can't see as well as her crystal blue eyes can.
5. Technology is for the ego; hard work is for the heart. A good heart and mind does not boast about hard work. Do not attract attention to your tribulations and your profits.
5a. This really means to look at your facebook statuses. The majority of the posts I read have to do with, "omg, I have to do this and I hate it", or "I did this at the gym today!". Not one person cares.
5.1 OK so one person cares... you. That's it. If you can't get "high" off of your own satisfaction then there is something wrong with you. This isn't about the occasional "I need a pick me up" post. It's about the habitual posters.
2. Dogs listen to commands, not to manners. I'm not telling you to disrespect animals, but when you tell them to get down; they will. However, when you say thank you they will forget the down part and jump on you to try to figure out what thank you means.
3. After dinner, wait until the dishes are cleaned and put away before your cigarette. We really need to get back to the mentality of waiting for gratification. If you argue with me, I'll politely remind you that studies have been shown if you prolong your orgasm; it will be extraordinary.
3a. Please do not read that last line as, "wait too long in between orgasms. That does NO ONE any good.
3b. If you receive an extraordinary orgasm, do not think of a pig's 30 minute orgasm and get jealous feelings. It will ruin what you had. Pigs need some perk in their life. Deal with it and get over it.
4. Music can be a bad influence. When you sing MY BROWN EYED GIRL over and over, your blue eyed daughter will eventually feel insecure. She will then condenscendingly inform you that you have muddy eyes and can't see as well as her crystal blue eyes can.
5. Technology is for the ego; hard work is for the heart. A good heart and mind does not boast about hard work. Do not attract attention to your tribulations and your profits.
5a. This really means to look at your facebook statuses. The majority of the posts I read have to do with, "omg, I have to do this and I hate it", or "I did this at the gym today!". Not one person cares.
5.1 OK so one person cares... you. That's it. If you can't get "high" off of your own satisfaction then there is something wrong with you. This isn't about the occasional "I need a pick me up" post. It's about the habitual posters.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Try driving a wagon up and down a mountain... with a migraine.
As much as I'd love to live 150 years ago, I'm not sure I could live without certain technologies. Like an ER. Or hot doctors. Or really, 5 hours of people watching entertainment.
I had the pleasure of going to the ER last week. Honestly, I was a little excited about getting to go somewhere alone. I had a horrible migraine; the worst I've ever had. I couldn't talk in a normal fashion and felt like I had a slight case of amnesia. I sat in the waiting room for 5 hours. It was packed except for the sole chair next to me. Of course that means that when the drunk homeless man comes in to sober and warm up, I get the luxury of smelling him and listening to his babble. He came in with a backpack full of Reeses Peanut Buttercups. He handed them out to most of the chicks in the waiting room. I refused it, but had to wonder how he got a backpack full of them. If he is so clever to hijack a Reeses truck, he should really look into joining up with the mafia. He could go far.
I ignored him for the most part. He was asking everyone what they were in for and what medication they thought they'd get from the doctor. I told him I was there for my head. He went on about how he had the same problem and he understood how bad it was when doctors weren't helpful. It took a few minutes of his rambling before I realized he was talking about his pain would only be under control by jumping off of a bridge. That's great. Maybe I should have been more specific about what was ailing my own head, but then I wouldn't have anything to write about :)
I went back to ignoring him and that didn't settle with him. He reached over and grabbed my leg and said, "Hey gorgeous, I'm going to tell them I'm your husband and you need to be seen right now. I can't stand to see gorgeous women in pain". For the next 60 seconds, I felt no pain. I could speak clearly. I could speak loudly. I could throw my finger up in his face and be intimidating. I'm still wondering why the full waiting room just sat and watched. He did listen to me and got up to move, but his pants slowed him down a bit. Oh yes, he had his pants undone. A few minutes later a cop came and escorted him out.
The nurse later told me that they have to watch him because he waits for people outside and asks about their prescriptions and try to get their good stuff. And to think I thought the guy forging his own prescriptions and carrying a knife into the pharmacy was bad. Maybe the world was a better place in the 1800's, when anyone could buy Laudanum through a catalog. When did the world start caring more about the person at risk for overdosing or suicide, and caring less for the innocent bystanders? God gave us free will for a reason, right?
I had the pleasure of going to the ER last week. Honestly, I was a little excited about getting to go somewhere alone. I had a horrible migraine; the worst I've ever had. I couldn't talk in a normal fashion and felt like I had a slight case of amnesia. I sat in the waiting room for 5 hours. It was packed except for the sole chair next to me. Of course that means that when the drunk homeless man comes in to sober and warm up, I get the luxury of smelling him and listening to his babble. He came in with a backpack full of Reeses Peanut Buttercups. He handed them out to most of the chicks in the waiting room. I refused it, but had to wonder how he got a backpack full of them. If he is so clever to hijack a Reeses truck, he should really look into joining up with the mafia. He could go far.
I ignored him for the most part. He was asking everyone what they were in for and what medication they thought they'd get from the doctor. I told him I was there for my head. He went on about how he had the same problem and he understood how bad it was when doctors weren't helpful. It took a few minutes of his rambling before I realized he was talking about his pain would only be under control by jumping off of a bridge. That's great. Maybe I should have been more specific about what was ailing my own head, but then I wouldn't have anything to write about :)
I went back to ignoring him and that didn't settle with him. He reached over and grabbed my leg and said, "Hey gorgeous, I'm going to tell them I'm your husband and you need to be seen right now. I can't stand to see gorgeous women in pain". For the next 60 seconds, I felt no pain. I could speak clearly. I could speak loudly. I could throw my finger up in his face and be intimidating. I'm still wondering why the full waiting room just sat and watched. He did listen to me and got up to move, but his pants slowed him down a bit. Oh yes, he had his pants undone. A few minutes later a cop came and escorted him out.
The nurse later told me that they have to watch him because he waits for people outside and asks about their prescriptions and try to get their good stuff. And to think I thought the guy forging his own prescriptions and carrying a knife into the pharmacy was bad. Maybe the world was a better place in the 1800's, when anyone could buy Laudanum through a catalog. When did the world start caring more about the person at risk for overdosing or suicide, and caring less for the innocent bystanders? God gave us free will for a reason, right?
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
The beginning
I'm going to start blogging. I had a lot to say... about an hour ago. Then I started to create this blog and design it to perfection. Now I'm too tired to think and am going to bed... stay tuned. The beginning is NEAR.
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