A Rant of Sorts

Guys. 

I'm sorry. 

I'm officially the worst blogger in the history of blogging. 

New Years resolution to write and blog, right out the window. 

I do have an excuse of course. I've got basically no internet. What I used to do was to type up the post to a document then when I got to work I could slap it onto blogger, post a picture and call it good. Well the last two months were spent training my replacement at work so I really didn't have time then, and now that I'm done working (I'm done working by the way, yay!) the only internet I have is my phone. Do you have any idea the nightmare that formatting and pictures are on an iPhone? 

Disaster. 

Not to mention, pregnancy is exhausting. For real. Like you always hear that and you're like yeah sure, you're growing a human,  but it's the worst kind of exhaustion I've ever felt. And I was basically an insomniac all through high school. 

Here's the deal. 

I go to bed at night at a reasonable hour. Sometimes too reasonable honestly, as the rest of the world is still very much awake. And I lay on my left side for awhile until munchkin decides to change positions. Then I lay on my right side awhile. And my shoulders burn so I have to fluff up my pillow. Then my stomach starts feeling like it's pulling me down. It's the weirdest thing and I can't explain it but it's only solved by putting another pillow under my tummy to hold it up. Then my hips start to hurt so of course a pillow goes between my knees so that it straightens out my pelvis. And while all that is going on I'm trying to explain to Jarod without hurting his feelings that I don't want his arm around me because the pressure on my stomach makes me feel like throwing up. Then my hands fall asleep. Constantly. Then maybe I'll actually fall asleep. Or maybe I'll just toss and turn for hours. Sometime around five thirty I've got to go to the bathroom, and after that nothing is comfortable and there is no more actual sleep. Come morning I walk around like a zombie for about half hour, trying to remember how to clothes and breakfast. Then I might go do chores with Jarod. And try like heck not to fall asleep during the drive because that's about the only time we'll be alone the rest of the day without people and high stress work to occupy the time. After chores I'll probably help him with whatever he has to do. Or more likely just sit nearby and be an immobile cheerleader. Or sometimes I don't go with him, and I stay home. Always with the intentions of being productive. And I usually force myself to be. At least for several hours. Because it's not healthy to just lay on the couch day in and day out no matter how bad I want to. And feeling miserable. Because honestly Maddie, it's not like washing dishes is a strenuous activity. Same goes for folding laundry. Or vacuuming the tiny living room. None of those activities are hard or stressful. But when you're thirty pounds heavier than you've ever been in your life, standing feels strenuous. Your feet hurt, your legs hurt, and your hands are still asleep. It hurts to sit down, but it also hurts to stand up. And it's not just the extra weight, it's the fact that all that extra weight is strapped to your front in a big clumsy ball that randomly moves around and throws you off balance. 

And heartburn. Oh the heartburn. How dare you eat food. Heartburn for you. Oh you think you can avoid heartburn by not eating? Guess again chica.
Stretch marks!!!!!
Top that off with constantly having cotton mouth, living in the bathroom, headaches, hot and cold flashes, and just generally wanting to curl up and die, and you're off to a great start for the day. 

Then while you're dealing with all the physically draining aspects of pregnancy, let's introduce the mentally taxing parts. Because guys, come on, you're having a baby. That means you have to feed it, and take care of it, and did you know there is a correct and incorrect way to lay a baby down to sleep? What if you don't want to take the prenatal classes because the nearest one is an hour away and we discussed, you're tired, and driving- icky. But what if you need to know something from them? Does not taking the class make you a horrible mother? What if the end of the world happens if you don't take that class? And all the doctor appointments. Driving an hour to have a doctor tell you that you're gaining weight good and see you next week. Thanks doc, sure glad you think this weight is great. Can I go back to bed now? And no of course there's not anything that can be done about all the stuff you're feeling. Nothing at all. Just something you have to deal with. But do not under any circumstances get depressed. Let's throw in the people who grumble and complain about "why are they having a baby so early?" And "shouldn't they have waited?" "Oh that's why they got married" (because no one can do math apparently and figure out that nine months back from April, they were already married). Or, "why would you quit your job? You should have saved money." Because $60 a day for daycare, coming out to $1200 a month, out of my $1300 paycheck saves tons of money. And all the helpful people telling us that we're gonna have to get on birth control right away, because this can't happen again. I guess because us having a baby that we take care of and pay for by ourselves without asking anyone to fund us is somehow a burden on people? And the lovely people who think it's perfectly fine to call you Chubby. Like it's your name. No, thank you, my birth certificate says Madeline. You don't look so skinny yourself. You mean you're not pregnant and that's all just pure fat? Wow. And, oh do I really look like I'm having triplets? Wonderful to hear. Because everyone wants to hear that the extra pounds they have (that perfectly match the healthy pregnancy weight gain numbers) look like there's three people inside you. Or the people who, when someone else says you look great and you just seem bigger because you're five foot tall and don't have as much room as taller girls, those people that are so quick to argue that that's not true at all, because your grandma was short and she was walking around waiting tables when she was eight months pregnant! ....Because saying your short and don't have as much room somehow translates to not being able to walk around and do things. Thank you, sir. Besides those kind of stresses there is the generic stress of I'm having a baby. Never done that before. Not really sure what to expect. I'm not seasoned in the way of the baby. Taking care of little sisters isn't exactly the same thing. The hospital is over and hour away. What if we don't leave on time. Did we cover everything in our birth plan? Did we pack the right stuff in the hospital bag? Actually, more like, I need to get a hospital bag packed and the car seat should probably be installed before we absolutely need it. And freezer meals. Better make some of those, because it gets old living on ravioli when you don't feel like actually cooking. And just wanting a stinking pop out of life, and a coffee with ALL the caffeine in it. Is that too much to ask? And the random uncontrollable mood swings and crying your eyes out, and of course it's not Jarod's fault, but it's absolutely Jarod's fault, and I really have no idea who's fault it is, but it has to be someone's cuz no one just cries for no reason whatsoever. Please.

But you know what? Aside from being the absolute worst thing ever, pregnancy is also pretty darn fantastic. Because, duh, babies. Who doesn't love a baby? And when you can feel the baby, and see the baby, and start to recognize his patterns that hey, this isn't an alien life form, it's a little person and he has a personality. A personality that wiggles like crazy when Needtobreathe is on the radio and does absolutely nothing when you play the country station. A little person that gets hiccups, and apparently likes The Legend of Korra because he sure does move around a lot while it's on. But goes completely still if you pause it and doesn't start again until you push play. That stuff is great. And it's the funniest thing when daddy puts his hand on your tummy and the baby kicks it. Because that's his tummy. Getting to see all the little toys, and shoes, and outfits. Feeling all the snuggly soft blankets. Buying a tiny little frog outfit and putting baby photography ideas on Pinterest. Thinking about what the little guy will be like when he's not so little. When he can walk and talk and learn things. All the stuff you want to show him and teach him.

It's the best. 

Wouldn't trade it for all the sleep in the world. 

Hello 2017

Well hello there 2017. I hardly noticed you arrived over the weekend. Good to see you finally. What have you got in store for me this year, eh? What maddeningly amazing and diabolical schemes are you going to throw at my plans in the next twelve months? One can never be sure.

There are a few things I'm banking on you delivering this year. This month I'll be in charge of training a new employee. When February rolls around I'll see the end of my job at the eye doctor. Come April I'll see my little boy in person. July will be my one year wedding anniversary. 

But there are many things that I don't know. Will this new batch of months bring with it a house all our own? Less stress than years past, and more time to accomplish the things that are important to me?

Will I finally paint those dressers that I've been saying I was going to paint for the last six months? Will my house actually be clean when I'm not going to work every day, or is that just a silly fantasy I've painted myself? Will I have more energy to write, play guitar, decorate, invite people over, and cook?

There are things I'd like to do this year. I'd like to get back to reading my Bible again. I fell off the band wagon the last few months of the old year. I'd like to keep my house in better shape more often. I'd like to be kinder, and less prone to random bouts of grief and anger. I'm hoping April takes care of that issue for me. I'd like to be healthy. Healthier than I've been in all the other years. I'd like to learn. Learn about children more than what my sisters have shown me. Learn how to nurture and cultivate their growth into something beautiful and healthy. I'd like to find a better solution for some of the health problems that have reared their ugly head last year. I'd like to devote more time to my creative side; to writing, and reading, and playing songs, and rearranging everything in the house until it looks like a picture from a magazine. 

And eyeliner. I will conquer the winged eyeliner this year, if it is the last thing I do. 

So here's hoping and praying that I actually accomplish half of this. That you're a good year. That you bring growth and happiness along with you. That you're more than just a new set of numbers, but a new life. That maybe this year some of the resolutions made might actually be kept. 

And may we never lose the ability to write somber pieces and mix random gifs in at the most inappropriate moments.

2016 Through the Lens

JANUARY:

First plane ride, and first time to Arizona. 

FEBRUARY:

Jarod's baptism. 

MARCH:

......

March must have been boring. I find no pictures from March. 

Jarod turned 21. He refused to take a good picture. 

APRIL:

Engagement pictures on a 10 degree day, and VOTA concert. 

MAY:

Wedding prep....

JUNE:

Twas the month of random selfies and dad loving what he heard on the radio. 

JULY:

Weddings and honeymoons. 

AUGUST:

Eem the turtle, yummy food, and the Maddie cave. 

SEPTEMBER:

Scout and the spider who is friends with Hagrid. 

OCTOBER:

Harvest time and an announcement. 

NOVEMBER:

Mighty deer slayer, and getting to see his face. 

DECEMBER:

Cheater alert! This was taken the last day of November. But I haven't taken a single picture so far this December aside from screenshots of recipes. 

Ta da!

A Review of 2016

I'm looking at my calendar and realizing that the year is almost over. Say what?? That can't possibly be right. But it is. It's December 16th already, and time just keeps marching forward till it can roll over into a whole new year. Craziness.

Lots of people are saying that 2016 has been the worst year ever. And I would agree with them. 

Lots of people are saying that 2016 has been the best year ever. And I would also agree with them.

My estimation of the year is that it has been an uncontrollable roller coaster of the highest highs and the lowest lows. Which, to be fair, most years are, but this one just seemed a bit more...more intense, more monumental, more effective. I feel like this year has kind of been all up in everyone's face, and you better have your hat on tight or you'll get lost in the whirlwind. 

The whole year has been kind of like this. 

This year has presented some of the most terrifying, challenging aspects I've ever had to face in my life. Dealing with people who don't want you to get married is difficult at best. Dealing with people who want to try and tell you how you should get married, and how you should be when you are married is no fun either. Dealing with people who you've known for years and counted as friends who suddenly decide to run around town telling stories that you're some kind of boyfriend snatching, abusive, promiscuous, piece of white trash was something I never thought I'd be put up to, but that's exactly what 2016 offered. And it wasn't just horrible things like that. It was stress in general. Stress about planning a wedding. Stress about planning a honeymoon. Stress about moving. About living an entirely new sort of life. Managing a home by myself. Bills and finances. And then stress about telling my husband of one month that he's going to be a daddy much, much sooner than we had ever planned on. Stress about telling those people who didn't want us to get married, and most certainly didn't want us to have children right away, that the newly established Wilson clan was growing. Stress about the people who look at your swelling tummy like it's something dirty, when it was obtained in the most innocent and pure way possible, within a marriage that started off pure from the start, but there's no way to prove that and no way to defend it. People will be people. Stress of feeling sick for months on end, only to be replaced by complete exhaustion no matter how much rest you get, and always feeling behind on work because you just cant some days. Stress of feeling like you've somehow failed if supper wasn't perfect and the laundry isn't finished, even though there is no one there to say those things. The food is eaten heartily, and there are clean clothes to wear, but there's still stress. Stress of feeling like you want to cry all the time, or feeling like screaming at someone when they've done absolutely nothing wrong, and you know it, but the feeling is still there like a knot in your stomach. Stress because your body is changing so rapidly, and it doesn't fit into the clothes it used to, and its swelling and bulging in places it normally wouldn't, and feeling completely unattractive and having a hard time believing anything else. Stressing about a living soul growing inside, and how to keep it safe until it gets here, and how to keep it safe after it gets here. It's enough to give a person a headache just typing it all down. 

But apart from all the doom and gloom of the terrible year of 2016, the year has held so much joy, and promise, and beauty. So much to be thankful for. I got to start the year off engaged to the person I love most in the entire world. I got to stand in front of four hundred of our family and friends and pledge my love to him for the rest of our lives. I got to put together a house for us, that's not perfect, but its ours. I got to cook him things I know he likes, and have him come home to a clean house and a good movie after a long day of working. I got to ride with him to do chores every Saturday, and sit next to him in church every Sunday. I got to tell him he's going to be a daddy, and see him smile at my tummy before he goes to work. I got to rebuild some of the damage that the stress of having a dating sister/daughter did to my relationship with my family. I got to tell him that he's going to be a daddy, and see him smile at my tummy before he leaves in the morning, and tell my mom that she's going to have a grandson. I got to see my baby stretch and yawn on a screen in front of me. I got to see his tiny fingers and toes. I got to work at a job that I can do, and save up money for our future, and turn in a resignation from that job so that I can be home with our little bundle in the new year that's coming. I got to grow closer to the friends that I do have. I got to share their joy as they are starting new lives of their own. The nation got another chance at taking our freedoms here seriously. I got to have a new second cousin come into the world. And find out about another one on the way, when before there was heartache over one lost. I've got to spend time with my friends and family, and meet the new family I've acquired. I've got to see God working in my and the people around me's lives in an amazing way. 

So, yes. It's been a hard year. But good has come from it. I've learned. I've grown. I've matured. And it's opened up a whole new box of opportunities for next year. 

A Discovery

Minions!
I have made a discovery. A Discovery of epic proportions. A discovery so monumental it may alter the course of history for all mankind....Ok, so maybe it's not quite that huge, but I was still pretty excited. 

You guys remember way back when I did some character interviews with a boy named Jake? A character in one of my stories that I have literally hundreds of scenes written for, but none are in order and not really following any plot line, and I was just trying to figure out how they all fit together. Well, several years ago, probably two or three at least, me and Minion #1 took and numbered each scene, laid them all out on my bedroom floor and arranged them in some kind of chronological order. We then wrote the numbers down in order on several pieces of paper so I could get into my computer and arrange them accordingly. It was exhausting. 

Well, long story short, the notes with the order of things on it disappeared. Couldn't find it. And since I couldn't find them, I couldn't arrange them, which meant I couldn't write the blasted story which meant it got shelved. 

But. 

The other night while watching a movie a ship flashed across the screen, old Spanish Galleon type, and Jarod commented that he really liked old style ships. Which spurred me into a flurry of activity to dig out all my old sketchbooks and start looking through all the old drawings (the horror. It was bad friends. It was bad) to find one I'd done of a pirate ship. I did find the picture.

 Also, tucked inside the pages, I found my notes for Jake's story. It was like a Christmas miracle!

I couldn't believe my luck, so I grabbed my laptop, only to find that the story was not actually saved on that computer. 

But. 

I found the thumb drive where it was saved. In the very first place I looked. 

And then. 

I found the tablet that had some of the actual chronological story that I had written down. That took about two days, but I was successful. 

And now, I have all the pieces. I can start. Which means I might temporarily postpone my Hang the Stars story. Jake has been near and dear to my heart for years and years. He's possibly my most tragic creation yet, and I don't know if I can equally split my attention from him to any other story. 

I feel like the fat little hamster on Bolt.....

Let it begin, LET IT BEGIN!!

Little Mister

Hi guys! I hope you are all enjoying your fall. Here it's been acting more like summer for the last few weeks. We had thunderstorms, hail, tornadoes...not winter weather at all. Until this morning. This morning it turned cold. BAM. And it even flurried a few snow flakes.

I've decided that I need to acquire a Christmas tree, as we don't own one, and I should probably get all of my ornament collection from my mumsie whenever she gets their tree out and ready to go.

I've acquired seven chickens. They were all layers, but I haven't gotten any eggs yet. But, like I said, crazy weather has been happening, and that will mess them up, plus traveling to my house in the back of a pickup probably rattled them a bit, so it might take them a couple days to get back in the swing of things. They are named Agnes, Florence, Edith, Margo, Dorothy, Alta, and Irma, and no, I don't have the slightest clue which one is which. 

We moved Scout's doghouse up to the porch, because he only wants to sit on the porch when we are home, and he looks so pitiful when its cold and wet. He's thoroughly enjoying it. Mostly he sits on top of it a lot. When he's not dragging things into the yard from who knows where. He found a big like gym bag the other day....No clue where it came from. It's not like we just throw gym bags out in the weeds around here. And he has decided that the wood shouldn't be in a pile, it should be in a maze on the front walk. But oh well. He's a puppy. A massive, nearly knock you over puppy.

'Im the turtle is doing really well. We got him his very own aquarium, and he still looks cranky, but I know deep down inside he's happy and actually likes me. Even if he does tear holes in my sponge if Jarod tries to give him a bath.

Thanksgiving went well. We went to see Jarod's mom's half of the family, so there were lots of people I've never met. The food was good, but I'm really missing getting to eat Thanksgiving leftovers for a few days since Jarod's aunt handled all the food prep.

Minion #1 and Daddy-kin had birthdays back to back last week so we had to go celebrate with them. We played Pinochle and watched miserable football game losses.

With Thanksgiving gone I'm getting super stoked for Christmas. I've heard a few Christmas songs on the radio, and I completely approve.

So, the original point of this post and the whole reason for the title has nothing to do with any of the stuff I just rambled about, and much more to do with the fact that we found out that our little bambino is a boy.

We are absolutely thrilled. Not that a girl wouldn't be thrilling, because it would. But you have to understand. I come from a family of three girls. My mom is one of three girls. And both of her sisters so far have had girls. So...a boy is kind of like a rare discovery around here. 

Now the really difficult part is the naming of the little fella. We had a girl name picked out for like, ever, but that doesn't do me a whole lot of good now. You would think a name wouldn't be so hard. I mean, I'm a writer. I name people for fun. But the difference between naming a character and naming a baby is that the baby isn't solely yours, whereas the character is. So the other participant in the venture may not approve of Cannon, or Talon, Tell, or Riley. 

But not to fear. We've got a book of 60,000 baby names. 

That's a lot of different options. Odds are, one of them will appeal to the both of us.

Hopefully two, because it would be odd if our baby was the only person around to not have a middle name. 

So there you have it! That's a rundown of what I've been up to lately.

What about you?

My Nano

Hi guys! I thought I'd tell you a little bit about my story for Nanowrimo. First off, I'm not going to win. Not even going to come remotely close. But that's ok. I was aware of that when I started. I have however, been doing more writing than I have in the last year or so. So its a win, for me. 

What I titled it on the Nano website is Light the Stars. It will work for now. Not sure if I'll keep it. It's better than the title of its Pinterest board, Little Boy Story. 

This is the synopsis I've come up with:

Aiden is seven years old, and lives with his mommy, and his daddy. Mommy is very sick, and lots of times she has to stay in bed now. But that doesn't stop her from telling Aiden his bedtime stories every night. They put on their jammies, climb into Mommy's bed and snuggle down into the pillows, and together they draw pictures while Mommy tells her story of the little creature Gus and his adventures in the land of Aisling. But suddenly, mommy is gone, and Aiden doesn't know what to do anymore. Daddy tries to help him, but he's not having any easier of a time coping. Aunt Cindy comes to help them out and try to keep them busy, but she's not mommy. She cant tell bedtime stories. Aiden starts having bad dreams that wont go away. Upon waking from one of these dreams, Aiden finds Gus perched on the foot of his bed with a worried message. Aisling is sick and turning dark, and they need Aiden to help save it. 

I let Jarod read the notes I had with all the random plot lines and ideas I had. It confuzzled him a bit, so he said to write a few chapters worth and then he would look at it. Which is giving me incentive to keep writing. I'm like the story quite a lot. It's fun to be able to write the perspective of such a young character. It makes the details I include or leave out interesting for me. I've been studying my little Sunday school students a lot to really get a grasp on how they process things. It's been fun.