Meanwhile back in the desert...

Well the trip home was painful... and not just because we were leaving the good weather and family... ;-)
my lower half kept going numb, both on the planes and in the car.  We did stay in Boise until Sunday, hanging out with more family and a couple friends.

We went to dinner with some friends we hadn't seen in a while and toured their family's ranch on fore-wheelers.  At one point, I got off the fore-wheeler so Anton could go off jumps and do donuts and stuff.  He was having so much fun!  And then he did a donut  too tight and flipped the fore-wheeler over.  It was so cool to watch--he was like a ninja, rolling in the air as he flew off, just barely escaping being trapped under the fore-wheeler (which is about twice the size of the one we have at home).

I was so sure the fore-wheeler had nabbed his ankle, but when I got to him he was totally fine.  Then he got back on to do more.  :-)

Anyway, we adopted a baby kitty from the pet shelter.  He's so cute and little.  I wanted to keep him mostly outside but Anton will only agree to a pet if we keep him inside.  City boys.
I was reading this article about happiness and it mentioned pets promoting emotional well-being and that people who have pets are usually happier.  So, I decided Anton could use some emotional well-being and a little more happiness, even if it's in the shape of a little ball of fur with claws.  This semester's been pretty tough on him.

We've both been smiling a lot more since we brought the little rascal home.  :-)

Bringing him home from the shelter

He likes to play behind the computer.

Then he cuddles after he plays.

May is the Prettiest Month

Because everything blossoms and smells nice.  Anton brought me a branch of lilacs yesterday morning.  He put them right by my face so I could see them when I woke up, but I noticed as soon as he put them down because I could smell them.  Happy start to any day!

Well, life is pretty uneventful at the moment (or at most moments).  No nausea, no hormone-induced breakdowns... okay maybe there was one...
Last week, I got really mad at Anton for drinking my Green Machine Naked drink.  Really mad.  I started crying, called him an insensitive jerk, and told him not come home when he got off work.  Yeah, I really did.  Maybe I didn't get a nap that day...?
Fortunately, he ignored that last part and came home anyway.  Bearing gifts, no less.  Of course, I realized how weird I was being and apologized... after I saw the gifts... ;-)

But I was talking to a friend in our book club, and she was the same way when she was pregnant--same lack of symptoms-- and she freaked out at her husband for putting the chili on the bottom  when they had chili cheese fries for dinner one night--like cried and insisted that he didn't love her... so, that made me feel a little better (that I'm not a lone weirdo).

Anyway, school is out for the kiddos, which means I'm out of a job until August.  Not really sure what to do with myself until then.  I could look for another job, but I would feel kind of awkward saying I can only work for you for two months...
No matter.  I'll enjoy the break.  Except I'm really going to miss playing soccer, tag, and jump rope.  Now I have to work out on my own...

I'm going to the doctor for the first time.  In June, like the first week.  I'll be 12 weeks by then (according to my phone).
I was kind of freaked out after coming home from my pregnancy class the day we discussed gestational diabetes... the women who gave birth to those babies we saw, went through hell.  I don't care how prepared they were, nobody's vagina is that big.
So, I decided to eat as little sugar as I can.  Not that I was eating much of it anyway, but I'm now looking at the ingredients of the stuff I eat to make sure it's not too loaded.  And I will force myself to work out.  No premature, twelve-pound babies (who are addicted to sugar) for me.  Nope.

Pregnancy is Weird

Well, I got the flu... I think.  Head cold + fever and stuff.  I can tell when I have a fever because my back aches in a funny (but not really funny) way.  And sadly, the cold means I can't sleep because every time I lay down, I can't breathe.  I've also been really dizzy, but that happened before I got sick...
Anton is being a huge sweetheart and taking good care of me.
He's so patient, especially since I am super fickle about my food.  Poor guy listens to me go back and forth about what I "feel" like eating... yikes.
Actually, I wish I could just go without food because I rarely feel like eating anything these days.  Except apples. And dried cranberries.  But I really hate how differently things taste.  And I went from being only slightly picky, to obscenely picky.

I know I don't have any reason to worry, but I'm nervous for the changes my body is going through.  I do not relish not being able to sleep on my stomach in the coming months.  Or having to find space for a new wardrobe (of course I love getting more clothes... I just don't have anywhere to put them this time).

The worst thing about being pregnant so far... having to pee every ten minutes.  Seriously, nothing is more maddening.  Especially in the middle of the night.  Anton can always tell when I have to go because I first let out a very obvious sigh that clearly indicates I'm irritated.
Oh, and I think the baby has made my ears even more sensitive... everything feels too loud.  I flinch every time I hear something above 50 decibels.

Anyway, Anton and I talked, and we decided I can't be a full-time teacher and have a baby, and I would feel badly about leaving them in the middle of the school year (which is when the baby's due)--these kids should have as much consistency as they can in their lives, anyway.
So I'm back at the after-school program.  It's slightly more fun, and I get more exercise.  Plus I only work 2-4 hours a day... which gives me more time to nap, yay!

Stuff is Now, Definitely Going On

Well... it's finally happened.  Yep.  I'm Pregnant.

I smell everything (not that that's unusual, anyway)... most of the time it's horrid, but occasionally it's glorious--like cherry tea.  Cherry tea is glorious.
At least I get a baby out of it this time.
Honestly, I feel like the most blessed person in the whole world.  I have been completely swept off my feet by the reverence and importance with which my husband regards parenthood.
Just a blurb about the beginning-ish:
He took me to the temple in Idaho Falls, same place where he formally asked me to marry him (he was so nervous that night, it was the cutest thing EVER), and proposed that we for real have a baby (we had been talking about it but not actually trying for real).  Then we celebrated by eating out at Barnes and Noble... I know, not the kind of place you would think to eat out, but it has a cute, European-style cafe that we love, and he was so excited--I just got a glimpse of what it will be like to have children with him, and it makes me weep tears of gratitude.

I also fell in love with him all over again when I saw how disappointed he was that I didn't get pregnant immediately after we decided to have a baby--it's adorable how optimistic he was!  And I mean that in a completely endearing way.  And I love how he's a stickler for making me take my pills.  It's sweet.

Anyway, Anton is convinced we're having a boy (who will be named Andre--a girl, we would name Katya).  He says he's the one who gets to pick the sex of the baby and he already picked boy... hehe.

Okay, so when I really think about it, Anton's being a nazi about pretty much everything... even how I'm going to have the baby, but I don't really mind, because I'm just happy to have a baby at all.

P.S. I am now a full-time teacher at the EICAP Head Start program.  I have my own assistant and everything!  They are a very impressive program--I'd send my kids there.  I feel so professional and legitimate.

Not Much Goin' On Here

I've been dying to cut my hair lately.  Every time I feel like I need to, I go through all the reasons I shouldn't:

     1. My hair has never really looked as good short as it does long.

     2. If I hate it, it will take YEARS to get as long as I like again.

     3. I can't do anything with it when it's short.

     4. Anton will freak out if I cut it as short as I actually want to... and by freak out, I mean for real get mad.

     5. I've never let it grow past my butt, and wouldn't that be cool to see?

It's like I'm a recovering addict of cutting my own hair... is that a thing?  Anton says Mom warned him about this before we got married, but he didn't really understand until he witnessed me breaking down about it.

Well, I satisfied my hankering for change by rearranging my bedroom.  Anton said no, every time I suggested it, but I did it when he was gone and now he loves it.  :-)

Also, I'm not going out with a bang with the afterschool kids because they decided to hire me for real.  Which means I get paid for something, finally.  AND this is the highest paying job I've ever had!  The degree pays off!  Or working for a government-funded school program pays off...
Did I mention I'm a graduate?  Yay!

Anyway, I've decided laser eye surgery is in my somewhat-near future.  Contacts are incredibly irritating, so I usually wear my glasses, which seriously messes with my depth perception.  Like... I sometimes hit myself in the face when I open my car door (or any door, but the car door gives me the nastier bruises).  And run into walls (just the corners).  And miss steps when going up or down a stairway (but only when people are watching).

And because I'm usually wearing my glasses when these things happen, they're kind of bent up, so they fall off my face every time I look down (or run into something), which is where I'm usually looking because I'm trying not to trip.  It's a little frustrating.
I went to get them fixed so they would fit on my face again... the same day I got them back, I got whacked in the head by a cupboard door that came out of nowhere.

Someone Tell Me What To Do

I was really excited or happy about something the other day... and now I can't remember what it was.  Probably feelings from a dream carrying over into my real life.  That happens a lot.  Which means most of my mornings start off with me being really weird-ed out.  Like the dream where I built a new house and Jana was in there with me (and we had barbies...?) when some cowboys started shooting it up, so in the process of running for our lives, I met Luke Harper in the driveway, eating a spit-roasted rodent.  Yeah.

Hey, I could start a dream blog.  Those would be some crazy stories... and some scary ones... I die in some of my dreams.  Never mind.

Anton's been gone on a camping trip for a class and I feel lonely.  So I've been cleaning.  Found some cool stuff.  Money, candy, jewelry, hairbands.  I really feel like throwing away the rest of the stuff in my house, though.  I usually feel that way when I don't want to do the dishes... bleh.

Well, the end is in sight... for my bachelors. Now for the masters.  I've been debating what to go into-- and I realized that I'm just as fickle now as I ever was.  I like everything (except math stuff), and I feel so restless.  I need someone to tell me what to do.  But not Anton because he only tells me what not to do.
I plan on staying home with my kids, whenever that happens.  But I still want to be educated, not just for a back-up plan, but because I want a degree in something useful.  For me, for my family, for the community I live in, etc.  And when my kids are gone, I'll need something to do.  I'm planning out my whole life, here.
I've been considering Children's Literature.  Still feeling fickle, though.

Meh.  Anyway, things are good.  I do wish Rexburg had a pet store so that I could go there and hold the babies, but not have to deal with them when they're not cute anymore.  Cal Ranch has baby chickens and baby ducks, but we're not allowed to hold them (although I did convince one of the employees to let me hold a baby duck for minute).  :-)

Is It Wrong To Force-Feed My Husband?

It's cold and windy, and I'm feeling grumpy today.  So, I've turned on my favorite-smelling wax and prescribed myself a nap.

That was all I got written down before I actually fell asleep.  Now it's 2:00 A.M. and I'm wide awake-- but no longer grumpy... that's what I get for napping after 4:00 in the... evening?  Afternoon?  4:00 is an odd one.  Because 3:00 is definitely afternoon.  And 5:00 is pretty solid for evening.  I'll call it evennoon.  No.  Afterning.  Four O'clock in the afterning.  heheh.  Reminds me of a song I heard called 9:00 in the afternoon.  I was singing it one day when I realized... there is no 9:00 in the afternoon... mysterious.

Okay.  Anyway, Anton has been a little on edge the past couple weeks.  He's gone into "hate Russians" mode.  There is a special place in the heart of every resident of any former Soviet Union state that is dedicated to hating all things Russia (except Russians, of course--they love themselves enough for everyone).  He's getting better, though.  I think he's either letting it go, or finding someone else to rant to.  Probably finding someone else to rant to.

I switched topics with the after school kids and am now doing food... but not advertising it because then every single child in the whole school will come to my class, and that would be a nightmare for me to plan for.  So, we do mostly food crafty things and include a little dance so that we don't have to change the name.  But I am trying to think of activity plans that include kids doing something with food.  So far we're making peach pie pops, banana snowmen (because it snowed today, blast this weather!), and edible paint, which we will use to paint food.
I need to come up with the grand finale lesson in three weeks--we're supposed to go out with a bang!  So any suggestions are appreciated.

Speaking of food, I asked Kyle for some recipes of things he's been learning to cook in Arizona.  He gave me some good feedback, but I can't make most of it because it includes barbecue sauce, which my husband doesn't like.  You know, he complains about me not cooking (and I admit I don't really cook that much anymore) but I tried when we first got married.  He just didn't like any of the things I was used to making.  He won't eat anything barbecue-esque, he hates the way I cook potatoes (or any kind of breakfast food), he won't eat my goulash (something I could live off of for days), he dislikes anything whole-wheaty, and he doesn't even eat my potato salad (Mom's potato salad).  I'm not saying I'm blameless, because clearly there are other things I could learn to make, but cooking is more stressful for me than I thought it would be (with such a picky, demanding husband, anyway...maybe if he suffered through my child's-size serving of burnt vegetables, it wouldn't be so bad).

P.S.  I am proud to announce that I made a very delicious chicken gravy from one of my recipe books!  Just the gravy, though...  One step at a time, I guess.