Chicken bits in my hair

It's no secret that I love to watch TV.

Wait, no.  I take that back . . . it comes as a surprise to people who don't know me all that well, because it's a bit of a guilty pleasure that I don't advertise that much.  But if you really start to engage me in conversation, it's bound to come up and my secret is out.  Whether it be something I saw on the news or a quote from HIMYM, the truth always comes out.  Please don't judge.  Are you judging me?  If so, just keep reading, because this post has very little to do with television. 

I have a trusty DVR to keep me entertained as I work, cook . . . or breastfeed.  One of my favorite things about the first few months of my baby's life is the excuse to lock myself in a room with just her and watch whatever I'd like.  Because of my love/hate relationship with breastfeeding, this is sometimes my motivation to keep it up.  It's well documented that I think the best time of year to have a baby is right before network sweeps.

Obviously, with each subsequent child that gets more difficult.  Right now, I'm often nursing while quizzing Jack on spelling words, pondering Ben's "what if" scenarios and/or reading "Are You My Mother" to Claire for the 55,000th time.  But during those late night nursing sessions, or when Kyle's home and I get that chance to sneak away and watch something, I savor every moment.

One show I added to the lineup this time around is the Pioneer Woman's cooking show on Food Network.  I love her blog, so I was sure I'd love her show.  I can bake pretty well, but I'm not much of a chef.  Watching her in the kitchen, though, makes me think that I can do it, too.  You just throw a little of this and a little of that into the pot, give it a stir, and viola!  A culinary masterpiece!  It's truly mesmerizing. 

On last week's show, she made chicken and noodles.  As I watched her cook and create, I was inspired.  It seemed so simple. In a moment of pure stupidity, I added it to my menu as tonight's dinner.  Why would anyone with a newborn add to her menu a meal that requires more than heating and serving?  I really don't remember how it happened.  I'll just blame Hattie.

The recipe calls for a whole chicken already cut up. They didn't have that at our local grocery stores.  I probably could have looked harder and found one, but when your baby is on a feeding schedule, and your grocery shopping trips have a very specific time limit, you take what you can get.

I asked the guy at the store if it was pretty easy to cut them up.  He looked me up and down and replied, "For me?  Yeah." 

Um, excuse me?  Challenge accepted, buddy.

I asked google for information on "how to cut up a whole chicken" and found this tutorial from the New York Times Food section that made it look so simple. Just cut here, and pop there . . . it just kind of came apart for the lady in the video.  Oddly enough, it didn't do that for me.  The fat lines are not, in fact, a "grid for where to cut", and the joints do not just "appear" when I pop bones certain directions.  That tutorial is full of lies and I'm vowing here and now to never subscribe to the NY Times. 

It was a disaster.  At one point, I considered chucking the whole thing and making something else, but this chicken gave its life for our sustenance and it would be totally ungrateful to just waste it (see that right there . . . that's from watching too much Naked and Afraid).  I got the legs off (kind of) and then just decided to throw the whole thing in the pot, NOT cut up, to see what happened.

I let the whole thing boil, and it seemed to be working out okay.  When it came time to take it out of the pot and shred the meat, I grabbed a slotted spoon that I THOUGHT would be strong enough to support the chicken, but as I was lifting it out of the pot . . . SPLASH.  That sucker fell right back into the broth, leaving my whole kitchen, and me, covered in little bits of chicken.  And chicken fat  Oh, and not to mention . . . boiling hot water.  You don't realize how greasy chicken is until you're having to wipe it off of your floor, cupboard doors and counter tops. And let's not forget that moms of littles don't get to take showers whenever they feel like it.  In fact, this post was inspired a few minutes ago when I pulled a tiny bit of chicken out of my hair. 

The meal was tasty and Jack even asked to take the leftovers in his lunch. So all's well that ends well, am I right? 

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take the first of the 1,000 showers that it will take to get the chicken smell off of me.

The best worst day ever

By all accounts, Friday was a complete disaster.

We have an annual tradition of taking our staff* to Warren Dunes on Lake Michigan at some point toward the end of each summer. Friday was the day and the temperatures were insanely high. We all piled into one 15-passenger van with no air conditioning and one car with sporadic air conditioning and departed around 10. After a stop for gas, we were on the road and didn't look back. Jack came with us and was so excited to go to the beach with the counselors for one last day of summer fun with them.

Here's a run down of the day.

11:30 a.m. About 40 minutes from our destination, we noticed smoke coming from the van and we had to make an emergency stop. As we were exiting the interstate, the temperature gauge hit the danger zone and the power steering quit. Fortunately, we managed to land safely in the parking lot of a Pizza Hut.

11:45 We treated everyone to the pizza buffet while Kyle tried to figure out what we needed to do.

12:30 A mechanic tells us it will take 2 - 3 hours to repair the van. Fantastic. We stayed at the Pizza Hut talking, laughing and playing games. Our waitress, Diane, was friendly and hospitable, which resulted in a nice tip for her.

2:30 Kyle was able to get a loaner vehicle. We used it to take everyone to the nearest mall.

3;15 We had an impromptu mall scavenger hunt. I'm pretty sure the rules of the hunt broke several mall policies, but everyone had fun and no one got kicked out. The team that took Jack with them got 20 bonus points.

4:15 Finally, we were on the road again. We asked if people wanted to head home or keep going to the beach and everyone seemed determined to get to the dunes, so we did it!

5:00 The van started smoking again and we noticed that something was leaking and spraying our windshield.

5:15 So, we pulled off at the rest stop and determined that the van was NOT, in fact, going to make it to the beach. We called for people to come rescue us, but it would be hours before they could be there. We threw down beach towels and got out the frisbee at the rest stop.

5:45 It probably wasn't the greatest idea in the world, but we decided to use our one working car to start shuttling people to the Dunes. 30 minutes there, 30 minutes back. 3 trips. As I left with the first group, the "check engine" light came on in the one good car. Awesome. Turns out that it needed oil, which we managed to get on our way home, much later that night.

9:15 We're finally all at the beach together. The sun had set and as we're walking to join the rest of the group for our "picnic lunch" dinner, we saw lightning in the distance. All we could do is laugh. It was at that point that we realized the park was closing at 10. Our rides weren't going to be here until after 10. Shoot.

9:20 We took this picture to prove that we did, in fact, make it to the beach.

9:25 With dinner in my hand, I started shuttling people OUT of the park to the McDonalds near the exit at which we would be picked up.

10:15 Our rescue vehicles picked us up at McDonalds. We still had to get gas, put oil in the car and stop to get the van.

I swear to you, I'm not making any of this up.

But here's where it gets good . . . we had an AWESOME day. I don't think I'll ever forget it. We literally just enjoyed each other's company all day because there was absolutely nothing else to enjoy. With most other groups of people, it would have been miserable. We all commented on how much fun we had, we laughed when things broke down, encouraged each other when we were tired and sweaty and just had fun. Even when I put Jack to bed that night (er . . . morning), he commented on how much fun he had. I asked him what his favorite part was and he said, "going to the beach." We really did spend the whole day "going to the beach."

On Friday, I learned an important lesson about unity. This remarkable group of people taught me that true unity comes from the love of God flowing out of us into the people around us. Their joy was contagious on Friday. Loving each other is about more than just liking them when things are going well. It's more than just the meaningful tasks we do together or how interested we are in the same things. It's about serving each other and being "for" each other even when life hands us lemons.

We definitely made the proverbial lemonade on Friday.

*Kyle and I are program directors at a youth camp and supervise a staff of 15 - 20 college students each summer.

What is "normal" anyway?

Now that Jack has been weaned for over a month, the symptoms of my PCOS have returned. The good news is that my insulin, thyroid and cholesterol levels all tested as "optimal" so I'm not facing any of the significant health risks. Just the annoying ones. And it seems that if we do decide to get pregnant again, I'll have to go through all of the same fertility treatments that I did with Jack. Which is fine because I was trying to decide what to do with the pile of cash I have sitting in my back yard. Glad I have that figured out.

I was hoping and praying that the pregnancy would have kind of . . . well, I don't know . . . maybe re-set my body so that it started behaving the way it's supposed to. Not so much. It's actually worse now than it was before I got pregnant.

The main treatment for PCOS is the birth control pill. My doctor put me back on that four weeks ago and I felt overwhelmingly nauseous, tired and emotional since then. Yeah, we'll just call it emotional. This, combined with all of the fun I had last Saturday, my ability to cope hit an all time low and anxiety hit an all time high. I wrote anecdotally about the situation, but honestly, I was struggling to function. So, I stopped taking the pill and I had an appointment on Thursday to find alternative treatment. And I think we have it all taken care of. At least I hope so, because I'm going to need to be as stable as possible when I receive the bill for all of my doctor's visits and tests over the last month.

So, the last few weeks have been pretty stressful. Everything seemed bigger and more catastrophic than it really was and I'm glad that this little episode is nearing its end. I'm also praying that I can regain a sense of normalcy and routine as we head into the summer. Oh, and that I'll win the lottery.

I'll start over tomorrow

If I didn't already have a "bad day" tag for my blog posts, I would have created it for today's post. The day started out well. I woke up early and was able to shower and get dressed before Jack or Kyle got up. I made breakfast and was checking my e-mail when Kyle let me know that we needed to bring the pack and play to camp for Jack to play in today. This was when things started to get messy.

As I was getting ready to take Jack to work and lugging the pack and play, the diaper bag, a bag of toys, my bag, and my camera out to the car, it struck me that both the door from the house to the garage and the garage door were wide open. I panicked.

Before I go any farther, I need to give you a little background information. Murphy loves to run. That dog is so dang fast. And once she escapes, she does not come home willingly. She cannot be bribed with anything. Well, she can be bribed, but she's choosy about when and for what she will be persuaded. For instance, she'll sit when we offer her a treat. However, if we try to offer her a treat to go into her crate, she is completely uninterested. She'll roll over for a treat. But if we tell her to stay, she gives us the dog equivalent of "heck, no." Some say she's a clever dog. I say there's a fine line between clever and just plain dumb.

Back to my story. I panicked because I heard the pitter patter of little paws down the steps into the garage. In split second, Murphy took off out the open doors. I know it was a split second, but in my mind I saw everything happen in slow motion as I dropped the bags I was holding and start chasing after her. This proved even more challenging because of the invisible layer of ice covering the pavement. I almost wiped out twice. I offered her a treat (which I didn't actually have with me) and she looked at me as if to say, "You're kidding, right? A treat or my freedom . . . which would you choose?"

So, I started chasing her in and out of yards. I tried to corner her, but inevitably she would fake me out and get away. By this time, Kyle realized I was gone, put Jack in his car seat and chased after me in the car hoping that she might fall for the "Do you want to go for a ride?" trick. We chased her down Hillary, Dublin, up and down Bradley and finally we cornered her when we got to the lake. Stupid dog.

After we got back inside and I shared a few choice words with my dog, I realized that she has no idea how frustrated I was. She just sat there licking her paws and staring out the window looking relaxed after the nice walk she got today.

By the time we caught Murphy and I finished loading the car, I was way behind schedule and was rushing to get to camp. Jack was buckled in and I did a quick double check to make sure I had everything. I hit the gas to back out of the garage. I hit the gas a little too hard. I backed the Explorer right into the Saturn and took the side view mirror clean off. I also broke the taillight on the Explorer. By this time, I'm in tears. I know how much it costs to fix the side view mirror because, unfortunately, I have done this before (also when trying to leave in a hurry).

Kyle came rushing out wanting to know what happened and I asked him if I should just take all of this as a sign that I shouldn't leave the house today. Ugh. It was just one of those days, I guess.

An adult would have let it go and moved on. A mature person would have laughed about the events of the morning and kept a positive attitude. Today, I failed miserably at being both adult and mature. Poor Jennie had to sit in the office with me and listen to me be cynical and sarcastic for the rest of the day . . . well, more than usual I guess. I even caught myself yelling at the girl on the radio for talking about things that were uninteresting and irrelevant. I couldn't snap out of it.

Halfway through the morning I realized that I did not give Jack breakfast this morning. I mean, I nursed him, but no cereal. What kind of mother forgets to give her son breakfast?! Probably an un-adult, immature one.

I'm home now. I know that nobody likes a whiner. I know that I have a lot to be thankful for, and other people have days far worse than I do, and if this is the worst day I ever have I should feel lucky, and blah, blah, blah . . . I keep trying to 'look on the brightside' and 'cheer up' but I'm wonder if at this point my goal should just be to make it through this day and start over tomorrow.

I'm in a recession.

Today was a rough day. If you don't believe me, just ask my husband.

To be quite honest, the last 6 weeks or so have been difficult. I don't know if it's possible to suffer from post-partum depression 5 months after the fact . . . and I'm not sure depression is the right word for what I've been going through. I think that might be a little too strong. I think recession is probably a better description. I've been going through post-post-partum recession. How's that for a diagnosis?

For the last week or so, things were looking up. Circumstances haven't changed, but my outlook on life and my stress level had both seemed to find balance. Today, however, the floodgates opened. With tough decisions hanging over my head, frustration over unmet expectations, deadlines looming, financial stress at a peak and my hair still falling out by the fistful, I just reached my breaking point and ended up crying at my desk in the little corner of our office that isn't filled with papers, boxes and other trash for which we have no other storage area.

As I was driving home for the third time today, I remembered a prayer that I've prayed on other "bad days." Here it is:

Father, give to us, and to all your people, in times of anxiety, serenity; in times of hardship, courage; in times of uncertainty, patience; and at all time, a quiet trust in your wisdom and love; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

I'm praying it as my own tonight.

I'm in a funk.

I work full-time and I'm a stay at home mom. Or maybe I should say I'm a "bring my kid to work with me" mom. The details of this arrangement are much too difficult to explain without using diagrams and flow charts. I'm trying to finish my master's thesis, which I feel completely incapable of doing. I have a cloud of financial stress constantly hanging over my head. My house is a mess. I need something to wear to a wedding this weekend and have nothing in my closet that fits and have no money to buy anything new. I have projects at work piling up on my desk. Our insurance is inadequate and I really need to see a dentist.

I'm not complaining. I'm just really, really tired. I'm in what I like to call a funk.

Jack hasn't been sleeping well lately. He woke up FIVE TIMES on Saturday night. Actually, he probably woke up 8 or 9 times, but there were only 5 times in which we had to get out of bed and help him fall back asleep. He wasn't upset or anything . . . just awake. The hard part is that he was AWAKE almost all day Sunday too. The kid wouldn't nap for anything. Kyle and I were EXHAUSTED.

On the bright side, he took a 3 1/2 hour nap this afternoon. Most days, the total of his naps don't even add up to 3 hours. He woke up a couple of times but went right back to sleep again. It was nice to have a long stretch of time to get things done around here. And, I'm hoping because he slept well this afternoon, he'll sleep well tonight. Fingers crossed. His mood has been remarkably pleasant today.

I think I'm usually in a funk every year around this time. It's probably the change in the weather, or the lack of interaction with people outside of camp. Maybe it's just my down time of year. . . who knows.

Last year was the exception to this, I suppose. Last year I was thrilled because I was finally pregnant! October 9 was the first time we heard his heart beat and I've never been so relieved in my life. Actually, Jack's laying on my lap sleeping right now and I can feel his hearbeat against the arm I'm not typing with. It's amazing that it's the same heart that we heard for the first time a year ago when he was the size of a grain of rice.

I just realized that it's hard to stay in a funk when I think about these things.

I was not right.

I wasn't wrong . . . I just wasn't right.

We had plans to go out to dinner with our small group tonight. I'm not going to lie to you - I didn't want to go. I really didn't want to go. I'm sorry if you're reading this and you're in my small group . . . please don't take it personally.

I just didn't think I was in the right frame of mind to be social. Jack didn't sleep well all week. He did sleep well last night but, of course, I couldn't sleep. I really do love the people in our small group, but I was just tired and cranky and if I was going to have a child-free night, I wanted to stay and home and sleep. To top it all off, we were meeting at a barbecue place to eat. If I'm going to spend money to go out to eat, I didn't want it to be at a place I didn't like. I was sure that I wouldn't have a good time.


Fortunately, the night turned out way better than I had anticipated! We had so much fun! Kyle and I both commented on the way home that we needed the night out with friends more than either of us realized. It was great to have an entire evening without saying things like, "I'm gonna get your belly!" or "Does someone have stinky pants?" Though the guy that passed me on the way to the bathroom in the back of the bookstore did, in fact, have stinky pants. Also, I LOVED the restaurant.

All in all, it was a great evening.


We picked Jack up from Kyle's mom's house and he just now went down to bed (at 10:30). One of two things will happen now: 1. He'll sleep later and with less interruption or 2. He'll be cranky all day tomorrow. I'm hoping for #1.


By the way, The restaurant we went to is called Mat's and it's on the corner of Mechanic and Cortland in downtown Jackson. I highly reccommend it.

Wishing I could start over . . .

I just want to get through with this summer and start over next summer. I know that's such a bad attitude to have (and I'm working on it), but I feel a little like we've failed miserably. We've offered our staff very little accountibility and it shows. They're great people, but they have lousy bosses. I'm just super bummed that we haven't been able to invest more time than we have. I guess this summer is just feeling a little too familiar . . . like one from 5 years ago.

I think none of this is made better by the fact that I'm tired and feeling like I'm coming down with some sort of illness that involves a sore throat. Jack has been giving us 5 & 6 hour stretches, which is nice. But I'm finding that I'm so stressed over camp stuff and financial stuff that it takes me over an hour to fall asleep.

3 more weeks. Well of camp, at least. I wish that all if my distressing issues could be gone in three weeks.

The Waiting Game

I have to admit that I'm really frustrated with U of M right now. Really frustrated. Remember how two weeks ago, my doctor said that I didn't need to come in for an appointment this week because I would be induced on Friday. And then, the doctor I saw last week said that she really thought it was important for me to come in so they could do an exam and see if there was any progress?

Well, my doctor came in yesterday and listened to he heartbeat and that was it. I told her that the doctor last week had insisted that i come in for this appointment so they could do a full exam. My real doctor said that she didn't feel an exam was necessary. So, basically, because the doctors don't communicate well, I wasted 1/2 a tank of gas and almost an entire day driving to Ann Arbor for an unnecessary appointment. I burst into tears (well more like sobs) as soon as we got into the car because I was so frustrated . . . and because I've had so little sleep and cry a lot more easily when I have little sleep. So, Kyle tried to make the wasted trip a little more worth it by going to walk around at IKEA and took me to get my hair cut.

I had every intention of trying to convince my doctor yesterday that I needed to be induced sooner than Friday. However, on Tuesday night I had a panic attack about how much I still had to get done PLUS I got about 3 hours of sleep . . . which is definitely a record for the last two weeks. SO, I was feeling pretty good when I went in and didn't try and persuade her at all. Last night, I was regretting that decision.

So, they call me tonight to schedule tomorrow's induction. Please, please pray that the induction goes smoothly and quickly. The doctor said that it can take up to 24 hours to get labor going and then who knows how long before the baby is delivered. And, I'm really starting to feel guilty about having staff training as soon as we get home . . . I don't want to deprive Kyle of time with his son or the baby of time with his father. My mom is coming to stay with me while he's on the campout so I'll be ok, but I just feel like maybe we're already going to be messing this kid up by having kyle be gone for 2 1/2 days during his first week of life. Ahhh . . . let the lifetime of guilt begin.

I'm feeling pretty good today. My hands are still killing me and my feet are like tree trunks, but other than that, my spirits are high and I have a relatively positive attitude about everything. I'm nervous about tomorrow, bu the nervousness is outweighed by excitement. I have my e-mail list ready to go so we can send out an announcement (including the long-awaited name) sometime after he's born. Aren't you glad we kept the name a secret? Think about how much excitement that adds! :)

Oh, and I mentioned my haircut before . . . just a word of advice to those who are pregnant . . . don't get your hair cut until after you have the baby. If it doesn't turn out the way you'd like it to, it seems a whole lot worse than it actually is. Let's just say that in my baby's first pictures it will look like he was born to a 45 year old woman.

Ok, I've got a lot to get done today, so I'm headed to camp.

Bummed out.

Today's been a down day. I just have felt "not right" all day. The baby's moving and there's nothing really that I can put my finger on, but I just feel different. I had to sit down to rest twice all in the time in took me to make the bed this morning. I'm constantly worried that there will be something wrong with the baby. I think part of the reason I want to go into labor so badly is so I don't have to sit around wondering if he's healthy or not. And, every time I walk by a mirror I want to cry. There was just a Yoplait commercial on tv that begins with a voice saying, "Wouldn't it be great to have a smaller waist?" Yes, yes it would. I completely lost my cool with Murhpy today which made me question my ability to be a good parent. I lost my keys which about pushed me over the edge. I tried to make two casseroles to freeze for after the baby's born and ended up with spaghetti sauce all over my shirt. It was just one of those days.

Fortunately, I sat down this afternoon to make a list of things that I'm thankful for and they far outweighed the things I'm bummed out about.

On a brighter note, I got a gift in the mail last week from Julie Bayer containing onesies that made me laugh so hard. Seriously, you won't think they're funny unless you were on our staff two or three years ago, but here they are:

Just our luck . . .

It has been one long week. On Friday, I felt like it was Tuesday . . . not because the week passed quickly. It felt like it was Tuesday of next week. Unfortunately, this weekend is flying by and I haven't gotten anything done that I had planned on getting done. So, instead of doing it this morning, I'm writing this blog.

On Thursday, when it was raining, our bad luck struck again. I had to run some flyers to Addison Elementary and when I got back to camp, I turned of the wipers, turned off the explorer and put the keys in the cup holder. Only the wipers kept going. I looked at the keys, looked at the wiper switch and sat there for a minute trying to figure out what I had forgotten to do. Is it possible that the wipers can still run without the keys in the car? For us, it is. Only us.

So, I called Chuck and he came to look at the situation. He looked under the steering column and after consulting the car manual, he pulled the fuse for the wipers. They kept going. I was ready to have our staff lay hands on our car and pray out of fear that it was possessed by some evil spirit sent by the rain gods. So, he finally unhooked the battery and they stopped. Hoping that it would reset them, we reattached the battery, but lo, the started back up again. So, for a little more than 24 hours, I just unattached the battery when I got somewhere and reattached it when I went to leave again. A little inconvenient . . . and I got some stares from people who couldn't figure out why the crazy pregnant lady had her wipers on at the second highest speed and detached her battery everywhere she went.

The next day, Dave was able to find the fuse under the hood that turned the wipers off. So, if it rains we're screwed but at least we don't have the wipers going in all of this sunny weather. We googled the problem and found several answers . . . everything from needing to clean the wiper motor to needing to replace the steering column. If we have to replace the steering column, I can honestly say we'll become a one-car family because there is absolutely not way we can afford that.

On top of all of this, our basement still smells like sewage and we can't figure out why.

I'm not being whiny . . . I just find it amusing that we have the most unfortunate luck of anyone I know. At Kyle's baseball game yesterday, foul balls kept heading toward the parking lot. I estimate that we are at least 10 times more likely to have our windshield hit by the ball than anyone else.

Here's some good news: the past two or three days I've had more feeling in my hands than I've had in a while. And my ankles have only been mildly swollen! I'm thankful for that.

I went shopping for nursing clothes yesterday . . . no luck. The ones that fit well are way out of my price range and the ones that are cheap are not comfortable AT ALL. I guess I need to hit a few more places up and try some more clothes on. I really don't think that the size "XS" should be allowed in maternity or nursing clothes. First of all, it's a downer for most of us. Second of all, I think even the smallest girls are at least a "S" and probably usually a "M" by the end of their pregnancies.

We have the SBC summer kick-off today. I hope it goes well and that we get a lot of kids there that have never been to camp before. Our camp registrations have been UP from last year, which is a really pleasant surprise with the state of the economy in Michigan. I just want kids to experience everything about camp that I was able to experience as a kid. I would say that my summers at camp and my four years in college are the most important experiences I had that shaped who I am today.

Well, Kyle's outside trying to get the lawnmower to start . . . and if I had to guess, I'd say that our chances of getting it to work without paying out a lot of money to get it fixed somehow are slim, but stranger things have happened. :)

My own personal drama

So, it's confession time. I had a little bit of a breakdown this morning.

It kind of started last week when I got my hair cut. And when I say "cut," I'm being gracious because it looks more like the lady (who did not speak English) put my hair on a chopping block and swung and axe. I didn't go to the place I usually go, because with our budget crunch I know we couldn't really afford it. So, I went to a cheaper place in the Briarwood mall. That was a mistake.

Prior to the haircut, I was already feeling self-conscious about every other unattractive thing that has been happening to my body over the last two years that we were trying to conceive (acne, facial hair, weight gain, etc.). These things have only gotten worse over the last 12 weeks. So, my hair was the last thing that I could still feel good about. It was a simple cut, but Lin managed to screw it up. The cut is a shorter version of Jennifer Aniston's, circa 1994.

My hair was kind of the last straw. And I've been holding it together pretty well up until today.

I got up and started getting ready for church. My eyes started to well up when I was in the bathroom getting ready, but when I got into the closet and started searching for something remotely attractive that fits I lost it. I was crying harder than I have in a REALLY long time. Kyle came in to tell me it was time to leave and I was sitting on the floor of the closet, half-dressed, sobbing. It was at that point that he made the call that we were going to miss church today. And I spent most of the day avoiding mirrors as much as possible.

A lot contributed to the breakdown: stress over my stupid thesis, hormones, nervousness over having a baby, total disgust with my appearance, fatigue, etc. I just am realizing that I still have 28 weeks of pregnancy to go and it's going to feel like 50.

So, I'm thinking a little more clearly now but am still a little down. I'm just thankful that most days will be better than this one.