Can't Won't Don't and other contractions too.

At the hospital 33 weeks pregnant trying to stop these silly contractions.  
After two weeks of nightly contractions that I refused to acknowledge as being anything more than Braxton Hicks, my doctor gave my tensing belly one poke and sent me off to the hospital to be monitored.
This on the tail of a maelstrom drive back from CA with Pam, barreling into our new home at midnight last night.
Once at the hospital things just rollercoastered.  Worse contractions then medicine to stop them that made them really hurty and made my heart race and teeth chatter, etc.
Did I mention I had all three kids with me, of course?  They were excellently behaved, Mimi especially.  Hush showed up after work and took kids for food an errands.  The nurses have to tell him everything they tell me bc he doesn't trust me to obey medical advice if I find it inconvenient.

The tests say there will be no baby tonight and that is good.  This kid needs to cook another month.
Hopefully I will be able to go home tonight and we will all find a place to sleep amongst the moving boxes that currently fill the home Hush found for us. Many many thanks to those of you who helped us move; and apologies for having an inadequately prepped home. We locked in the house on Friday and had to move the next day.  More about our new situation when I stop contracting.


The Never Ending Arena

At dawn I was awakened by a child's panicked sprint to the bathroom so she could find a place to vomit.  The bathroom was locked because yesterday, in keeping with this summer's theme, the toilet had become clogged and overflowed.
That kid made it to the garbage can and the next came staggering into my room with barf all over his face and hair, "I barfed on my bed, mama." 
And so it goes.
Last week we made some offers on houses, none of them worked out.  During the weekend we took an overnight break from the last three weeks of house hunting and went to St George to see the Little Mermaid, tickets we'd had as gifts for Christmas from Hush. 

 It was a much needed respite (though it was 103) and we also stopped at the Fillmore hot springs as per our tradition.

But on the way home we were again confronted with our interminable homelessness and I started weeping. I just do not want to start all over again.  Sure we could find a place that's too small for a bunch of money, but there goes my kid plan for next year and see you later to the last year of investment in friends.  We've moved every year.  More packing, another change of schools, another preschool search, a new ward to trick into thinking we're normal, friends that will not measure up to my adored neighborhood friends. Forced change.
So down came the tears.

In the words of Wayne Campbell, "What the hell is going on? I lost my show. I lost my best friend. I lost my girl.  I'm being shit on, that's all, shit on."

After our five hour drive from St George on Sunday my sweet wise husband banished me from Utah until he finds us a house and moves us in.  He loaded us all back in the car at 7 at night and drove us 12 hours to Dville. 

And six hours into the drive Jude barfed all over himself, no warning and no bag.  Hush looked at his watch and said,"Right on schedule."  Then Jude barfed seven more times apparently unaware of the utility of a plastic bag.  Poor sick boy trapped in the car. Poor all of us getting covered in vomit.
We arrived at 6am and put Hush on a plane at 10.
Then somebody overflowed the toilet yesterday and today more barfing.

None of this is funny yet. Of course we could play the at least game (at least my husband is wonderful and supportive and doesn't ditch us, at least we have sufficient funds, at least we have working air conditioned cars, etc) but any way you slice it this forced move at 8 months pregnant sucks. And I am ready to be finished with the compounding series of unfortunate events.
Edited: Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's just Tuesday in Nor's life."

As for attitude, I'm also done being positive as I generally am during my biannual life crisis.  Not all of them have been blogged, but literally every six months I am slammed with a random and unnecessary trial.  I think I might be cursed. I set up and plan for a simple life and the rug gets pulled out.  Things improve and I think finally, finally we are out of the trials crosshairs and then the bottom drops out.  It's getting to the point where I'm nervous to get out of bed in the morning.

I wrote bit of prose during my previous crushing life blow. It seems to apply every six months.  If you're wondering how I manage these challenges, the answer is I just wake up every morning. I don't have any choice but to live through this.  Anger, yes. But mostly resignation.

The Never Ending Arena

I guess I'll stand in the arena
I'll be there standing in the cold
With weather beating on me
And yes, it's getting old

I'll watch as I'm encircled 
By the lions and the wolves
I'll stand there solo, if I'm bidden
Stand there naked, stand there clothed

My oar will be thrust deepest
I'll be in up to the hilt
My hands they will be messy
My body gone full tilt

It'll rain until I'm soaking
My heart buried by the jeers
Trip and fall as usual
I long gave up on tears

But still I'll be recipient
Of another deadset blow
Designed to push me lower
Unnumbered sly arrow

And though my spirit sinketh
And my body begs give in
I still stand up each morning
I still seem to begin

Because the next day always wakens
The first light a disappoint 
That the end of trouble isn't 
That I'm still here in this joint

Perhaps because I will it
The dread fight lingers on 
My unsinking spirit drowning
In this arena I've made home

Brought low each passing season
With another arrow's sling
The next wave of of misfortune
And my ever living being.


Dear Life, I demand you take these lemons back!

This is what our basement looks like now:
This is just the beginning stages. The rest of the drywall is coming out too, in all the rooms.  Right now all of our furniture is crammed in the kids' rooms.  We can't access it even to pack downstairs.
We were out of town for three weeks and then in hotels for about two weeks. Right now we are staying at a ward friend's house for a few days.
The official word on our house is that we have to move out permanently. It won't be fixed for months.  I was hope hope hoping they could get stuff figured out and we could move back in and go on with our lives, but nope. God doesn't like that plan.

Every time I go near that house I cry and cry. It was the first house in my life as a parent where we had a complete happy family.  It's ripping my heart out having to pack up all those memories because the carpet was ripped out from under us.  The kids are being troopers, but it really is tragic as far as I can see right now.

So we are hunting for a house. We have to move south. That palatial blue house is near where we're looking, but every iron we put in the fire is coming out cold.  It's very frustrating and stressful.  Every day is like "Yay! Our house problem is nearly solved" and then "Just kidding, back to square one."  Every day is one day closer to a baby coming and every day we don't have a contract signed is another day of stress. 

And then there's the pregnancy.  I'm 32 weeks.  Oh, and it's 100 degrees here so tack that on to "things that will make a pregnant woman want to lay down and die".
Seriously, can I just have ONE normal year? One pregnancy without major life upheavals?  I am an ace at trials, but frankly this one is putting me over the edge of misery.  Yes, I have a thousand blessings but I am 8 months pregnant in 100 degree heat with three hot, tired children, and no foreseeable home in sight. Give me a freaking break. Enough is enough. I have done my super hard trials year after year and had a good attitude.  This is just uncalled for.
Even my body agrees: last night I was laid out with straight up hurty contractions every five minutes for three hours. I nearly went to the hospital but I was just so frustrated that I passed out.


Chips in Bed: update on our Nomadic lifestyle

Just a quick update:
Currently staying at an extended stay in Murray.  All our stuff is locked up and inaccessible because of asbestos in the air at our house. No idea when we can get back in. 
Full demolition started on basement, house is currently untenable until inspected by people who inspect and certify stuff.
We have three possible living options starting in August in SLC (one may include moving back into our rental house for a few months) all of which allow me to keep the children in their school, which is top priority considering the big changes happening with the new baby coming and our intentions of finding a permanent house in the next six months.
After a few months we are hoping to buy somewhere between SLC and Am Fork.  If you have a great idea of where we should look, I want to hear it.  Sell me on why your area is more wonderful than Sugar House (which is too far of a commute for Hush).  Convert me and explain to me how I won't be massively offended when my new neighbors parrot whatever crazy talk Bill O'Reilly has been whining about that week.  Please find me a place with some unicorns.

In the meantime, thank you for your couch offers and prayers!  We have other places to stay through Sunday, then we are hoping to do a tour of friends in Vegas and beyond.  Beggars can't be choosers, but I am discovering how weird I am about being a houseguest with three kids.  At this stage in pregnancy I need to not worry that my kids woke everybody up and feel awkward that someone not related to me is letting me use their kitchen.  I have houseguest hangups, but if you're out of town I am not above begging for a few nights out of a hotel.  Is that weird that I can't stay WITH people? I'd worry all day that we'd left dishes out.  Sooo... are you going on vacation the last week in July? 

At hotels you can eat chips in bed and lounge around in your underwear.  Not so as a houseguest.


Apr├Ęs le deluge

We came back from CA to a flood in our basement. A flood of sewage.  It's a rental house and we have a good landlord, but the plumber guys needed the environmental disaster people, and they needed the asbestos people, and they needed some hazardous substance people and after over a week in hotels we have officially lost our house.
Silas' face says what I've been feeling all week.

Now would be an appropriate time to make "No room in the Inn" jokes or VonTrapps chased out of their home by poisonous substances.  But I'm really in no mood for jokes. We have a family of five, nearly six, and no home.
We did score a visit with my sister wife Mardee and her kids.  We are pregnant at the same time (with the first three kids) and then she got one ahead of me while I was unmarried.  Now we're both expecting again.  Friends from WC2 ward in CA.

The five of us are bouncing from hotel to hotel and looking for a short term living situation so that the kids can stay in their school and we have a place to put this baby.  We have to stay in Utah this week because of prior (paid for) commitments, but after that if we don't have a place to move into the kids and I will likely go back to CA and leave finding a house to Hush.  We are hoping to buy in the next six months so we really do not want to change the kid's school.
Kids being Honey Badgers at the Monte Bean Museum at BYU

The minions are being troopers!  They all pile in one bed at night at whatever hotel we happen to be in. We stayed in Provo for the first few days because we wanted to reduce Hush's commute time from American Fork.  I also bought pass of all passes so we have spent the week going to waterslides and doing fun activities.  It's a lot of close togetherness though and that is definitely wearing on all of us. 

That's today's update, live from some random hotel in Murray. 
Sometimes you just need a cool place with little chairs to sit and read for a bit like the dapper gentlemen you are.