Uterine Adventures

It all began when my uterus got the mistaken idea that I was pregnant with the spawn of Satan. My uterus became fixated on the belief that it was only up to itself to rid the world of this demonic fetus that actually didn't exist. Thus every menstruation my uterus attempted to remove all vestiges of my insides in the belief that this would stop the imaginary devil-baby from entering the world. 

At first I just dealt with it. I mean, that's kind of womanhood. We are bonded together in this monthly ritual of un-fertilization that is at the least uncomfortable, and at the worst a little piece of hell on earth. So I just let my uterus do its' thing. But then early one morning I was gently asleep. 

 Then quite suddenly I wasn't. 

 It was here. The moment had come. My period was upon me. The pain builds up fast, so if you don't take a bucket full of pain-killers the moment you become conscious, you're out of luck. There is no hope. You will suffer. I quickly tried to find a water source. Water. Water and pills. I headed to the bathroom where the cool tiles beckoned to my sweat-covered body. Alas I did not make it, which can be considered pathetic, considering that the bathroom door is INCHES away from my door. But I didn't make it. I collapsed in the hallway, staring at the bathroom door in desperation, writhing in the fetal position and praying I would one day be found. 

My 11-year-old brother came around the corner, just looking for his backpack. He saw me. 

 His adult sister on the floor in pain-dazed delirium. I reached for him. "Medicine," I whispered. "I need medicine..." I gave him his instructions with all the severity of Gandalf giving Frodo the Ring. I told him what kind of medicine, what kind of bottle, what cupboard, and even what shelf. I watched him depart and fervently hoped he could accomplish the task.  

"Uh...Brianna?" He called softly when he returned, the demeanor on his face appropriate for a beloved and sadly delicate pet. "I couldn't find it. But I brought some of these." 

 I clawed at his arms, desperate to find the bottle I needed. Like Gollum going through Frodo's pockets. Where iss it?! Precioussss...

 But no. It was not meant to be. His armload was full of vitamins, children's allergy medicine, iron, calcium, anxiety medication. None of it was any use to me. I sent him away and dragged myself into the bathroom to lay my cheek against the cool floor, like Frodo after he loses a finger. My brother stared. 

 My sister is dying. 

Then, after several doctor's visits and analysis of my delusional uterus, everyone decided that birth control would help bring my uterus back to reality. 

I approached this next step with a budding excitement. Birth control. This is also a part of womanhood. There was a faint hope that maybe, just maybe, one day I would have sex. And if that was so, birth control would become a part of my life, as it is for nearly every other woman I know. So I did it. I tried it. 

Worst decision of my life. 

The factors against me were that I had never tried birth control before, I was babysitting 4 days straight, for four children ages 2-12. The other factor was that I am highly sensitive to medication. I once got a colonoscopy at 6 years-old and almost had to stay the night because no one could wake me up. 

But ignoring all this, I tried it, and 15 hours later (aka 4:00 am) I found myself thus:

 I was nauseous, dizzy, my head splitting with pain. So I simply circled the toilet with my arms and waited for it to go away. This would have been an ideal moment to have a Samwise in my life. I kept thinking of my friend who had told me, "That's the birth control I use, and I love it!" Oh the cruelty. 

Long after any food remained in my body I slunk back to bed, sweaty with a migraine and the feeling that someone had shoved their arm down my throat and pulled out my ilium. 

Then at 6:45 am the four-year-old found me. 

I stared at him. 

Please. Leave me alone to die. 

The poor bloke couldn't understand. "Come on, I'm hungry!" I was all, "I'm sick. I don't feel good." He just looked at me in confusion. "But I'm hungry." 

It took me 7 minutes to send my frantic text because I could only look at the screen for 3 seconds at a time. The walk downstairs to get him a piece of bread resulted in 10 minutes in the bathroom. And it wasn't even 7:00am. 

I soon found a replacement babysitter and was rescued by my mother ("The Eagles are coming!"). She tucked me into bed and lathered me with peppermint oil, which is supposed to help with nausea. I slowly was able to drift into a peppermint-induced sleep and woke up feeling like I would maybe recover. One day. It's either that or sail to the Undying Lands. 

Needless to say I will NOT be trying that again. 

Surprise Party!

Yesterday was my mother's 50th birthday, so we celebrated her by surprising her with a lot of people, a lot of food, and homemade ice cream. It transpired thus:

My mom was planning on dinner with just her children, and it was going to be later because the little boys have football practice til 8:30. So we all played along and let her make call in and make a reservation. But before then Nik took her out for ice cream with his girlfriend, who couldn't come to dinner but had still gotten her something (a likely story). Then while driving my aunt called Nik, completely frantic and concerned, "Nik! Grandma has fallen down and we can't get her up. We need your help! Where are you?! Can you come?" So Nik and Co. headed up to my aunt's house.

Meanwhile, the rest of the party was in my aunt's kitchen, doing last minute preparations. We all stationed ourselves in position and then Teeny got a sudden idea. "Let's really have Grandma on the ground!" and though most people didn't seem to think this was a good idea (she is 99, after all, and already broke her back this year) Teeny was insistent, and with the help of several gentlemen they lowered Grandma onto the floor in the front entryway. They gave some pillows, dumped her walker strategically, then turned her wig so it was just askew.

When my Mom and Nik entered Grandma started moaning in great pain (she is quite the actress, that lady), escalating in pitch. Teeny and my mom fumbled, explained, and suggested for a minute, then Teeny said, "She's just so hot. Could you go get her come ice or a cold rag in the kitchen?" (My uncle was all for saying, "Go boil some water!" or "Grab some towels," but we opted for something slightly more logical) So my mom dashed into the kitchen where she met a crowd of people who shouted "SURPRISE!"

Ahahaha! She was shocked. "That is cruel!" she said, "You guys are so mean." She covered her face, and Grandma came walking in, her wig on straight and a very satisfied smile on her face. Mom had no idea. It was wonderful. Nik was laughing, as was must every one else. A few were disappointed there were no tears. Teeny thought she ought to have milked the tragedy a little more, but it was all good. After the initial shock wore off she was delighted.

*Chuckle. I am very satisfied.

Family White Elephant

Every after Christmas and before New Year's we have a family adult Christmas party that includes the passing of white elephant gifts. This year this is what my brother brought:

In case you can't tell that is a drum cymbal with a self-help relationships video, a glow stick, and hand warmers taped onto it. It was voted as one of the worst gifts present. The other gift that tied for worst was my cousin's sack lunch that he took out of his car and wrapped up with the host's wrapping paper.

This party is usually very fun, as my family can get quite creative with what they bring. There were also some Cialis pill boxes (empty, but containing money), a plethora of dollar-store man-candy calendars, a jar full of homemade puppets' heads, and I think my personal favorite was a live lobster wrapped up in a macey's clothing box. Ah, family.

Bear Lake Weekend

My family typically goes to Bear Lake for the 4th of July. Typically, as well, the boys check out Lake Bloomington, which is a small lake surrounded by coldness. Look hither:

Notice those little dots on the snow? That would be the male members of my family plus a knee board which they used to sled down into the water.

Like this!

Does it not look ridiculously fun?

Exactly.

That's why I didn't go for it. I let stupidity reign only so much.

Here is one brother attempting to warm up afterwards.

And here is my dad suffering from a similar brain freeze. We're sitting in the sun judging the rope swingers. Obviously I was not that impressed. Most the attempters were show-offs with no talent (which is a little contrary to the point of a show-off, don't you think? It's like fat people in small swimsuits. If you don't have it, don't flaunt it.)

Also at Lake Bloomington we saw a small dog that was 1/2 golden retriever and 1/2 wiener dog. Now isn't that a question to the universe? Who in the world allowed that? And how in the world did it happen?

The result was actually quite fun, despite any misgivings you may have; the golden retriever personality in a much more containable size.

Jackson Sleep-Walking

This is Jackson--with his clothes on.

The other night we watched Inkheart for a little family movie night. Jackson, who was most insistent about renting it, fell asleep in the first ten minutes. After the movie was over the rest of us retired to the kitchen for a late night snack while Jackson snoozed on the couch (rather loudly as a matter of fact). A few minutes later Jackson walks by, bleary-eyed, and confused, and also completely naked.

Zak and I looked at each other. Cole went over to the couch and found a pile of discarded kid clothes.

Then Jackson returned, still naked, still confused, with this pinched looked on hi face. He walked around the kitchen's perimeter, then circled the island counter, and walked back into the bedroom. We all just watched him, not impeding or talking---Just watching. After he walked back out my mom followed him and found him in the bathroom--with the lights on-- running into the walls with that pinched look still on his face. Still naked. My mom helped him find the toilet and that seemed to solve his problem.

Today Nik came upstairs looking sticky with smugness. "Beat him." He said. He had been playing Jackson at pool. Mind you, Jackson is six. Nik is 25. Jackson followed up the stairs, upset and exasperated. "I can't believe Nik beat me!"

Also today, Mom asked Ben to help her carry something out of the garage. "But it'll be all muddy!" Ben cried. "And I'm wearing my nice white shirt!" World, please note; wife-beaters are not "nice white shirts" and anyone who thinks otherwise is white trash. No exceptions.

Little Brothers

My three little brothers were sitting around, debating who to call over to play basketball with them. It had to be someone within walking distance with a decent shot. 

Noah: We could call Jake.

Cole: He wouldn't want to play. 

Jackson: and he sucks. 

(pause)

Noah: I know! Nate Ward! 

Jackson: Yeah! 

(Noah runs over to the phone)

Cole: No! Nate Ward is a cry baby. 

Noah: No he's not---ok maybe he is, but he's just as bad as Jackson.

Jackson: What?