A Pick(le) Me Up

We've had a crazy week.  I should be posting about everything that has been going on, like moving to a new state, but I have a final tomorrow and I have to pack and sell a house...so...diversion time! 

Last time we went to Disneyland Ethan and I were talking in line about random things.  We talked about the "old" movies my parents and aunt and uncle made based on Indiana Jones.  That got us  talking about how funny it would be to make beloved movies (Frozen, Star Wars, etc) entirely out of pickles. 

Even though this is the worst possible week, and we are all super sick, the kids really wanted to make it happen today.  They had spent all day coughing while packing up, so for the last hour of daylight Eric calmly sit and taped them do take after take.  I edited as soon as they were done, and here is the first Picklemation production:

Not Much Dignity Left

While waiting for Ella during her piano lesson I got to talk to several other parents and our teacher's wife.  I mentioned how unhappy I was with my professor's lack of actually teaching, and that I sometimes get a little stressed out doing my homework. 

Livi chimed in, "Mommy cried and yelled and screamed when she did her homework."

 

Everyone stopped and looked at me.

Thanks Livi.

I'm BAAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKKKKKK

Things have been a little hectic in our house.  I could list all the things that have kept me away, but I want to document them here so I don't forget this crazy, horrible, wonderful summer and fall.

 Recently Eric decided that we needed to refinance.  It is a smart financial move, based on the original loan we got and the amount of sweat equity we've put in, and the future we have ahead of us, but that means that for the last 10 days we have been finishing every project I started or wanted to do in the last 4 years.  Everything we did would have taken about 6 months for normal people but we crammed it all in in a week and a half.

How did we do this?  Caffeinated soda and candy.  We would get kids off to school, Eric would go to work and I would start work around 8am.  Taking breaks only to get kids and take them to activities I would work until at least midnight almost every night.  Almost, because there were a few nights I was up until 1:30 or 2am.

I feel like I was hit by a truck, I am so physically exhausted.  After hiking Crypt (that will be another post) I felt refreshed compared to what I feel now.  It will have been worth it after a few nights sleep, and a little time, but right now I just feel tired of my house.  OTBS it is really nice to not have projects hanging over my head.

Stott home from Nicole Stott

Want To See What Going Crazy Is Like? Try Sinus Surgery!

After three years of constant sinus problems I finally went to an ENT to see what could be done.  He basically told me that I had no one big problem, but lots of little problems, meaning there was no one way to fix everything.  He agreed, after looking through my records and noting I had 7 sinus infections in the last calender year, (which means I was sick more often than not last year!) that something needed to be done, so he recommended surgery.

Because there was no one problem I ended up getting three different surgeries at once.  The tissue in my nose was cut back, the sinus' were drained and my septum was straightened.  When I asked him what the recovery was going to be like he looked me right in the face and boldly lied "You will be uncomfortable for about a week."

What he should have said is: "For two full days your nose will be completely closed off which mean you will be unable to sleep more than 5 minutes at a time without gasping yourself awake.  Your mouth and throat will eventually get a slimy film on it to protect itself from being constantly open.  You will slowly go insane from the lack of sleep, pain, and claustrophobia from feeling trapped in your own head. You will barf every time you even smell food, let alone eat it.  Every time someone accidentally bumps you it will hurt.  If you touch your own nose to even move away a hair you will scream out in shock at the pain.  You will pass out every time you even think of sneezing."

When the office called to check on me I told them how hard it was for me.  I cried the entire phone conversation.  They said it would get better when I could take the packing out.  What they should have said was:

"You will barely stay sane by holding onto the idea that you get to remove the packing after two days,but when you finally can remove the packing you will realize you have airways the size of coffee stir straws to breathe through.  You will still be unable to sleep.  You will still have crazy pain and feel trapped in your skull by the amount of blood and mucus you are producing but can't expel.  That realization will cause you to have a complete mental break where you sit in front of a window and chant to yourself quietly under your breath."

Swollen nose.  It was easily the coolest and scariest thing I have ever seen on myself.

I finally got the inserts out after a week.  The whole thing was the same width as my pinkie with a tiny opening down the center to breath through.  Why not make the whole thing a giant tube so a person can actually feel like they can catch their breath once in a while?

I ended up going back after a few days because I was making so much mucus and wasn't allowed to blow my nose for 3 more weeks (try going 3 weeks without blowing you nose!  It is crazy hard!).  My fabulously deceptive doctor was unavailable so I got to see his colleague who talked to me for 2 minutes and said "Why don't we get you an anti-anxiety pill.  I think you could use a good night's sleep." 

2 minutes to realize "this woman is suffering mentally and maybe I could solve this easily with a safe pill."  The other doctor brushed me off after 2 phone calls and an office visit which all consisted of me breaking down and crying.  Guess who I am going to next time I need an ENT?

Was it worth it?  I can breath better, I don't have constant sinus headache pain, and my nose is even a little straighter, but right now, no, it wasn't.  Maybe if I can stay healthy for a while I will look back on it and say it was worth it, but right now I am still petrified of ever having to do anything like that again.  I have had 3 c-sections and 2 organs removed and I'd rather go through ALL of that all over again than have sinus surgery ever again.

So if I've been a little absent, or distant, or cranky, I'm sorry.  I've been trying to overcome the pain, panic attacks and depression I've had since the surgery.  Things are looking better now.  I typed this whole thing without crying or needing to walk around the house singing songs quietly to myself, so I think my brain is slowly learning to forget what happened.  Which is why I am writing this now so I NEVER FORGET HOW HORRIBLE THAT WAS!  DO YOU READ THIS NICOLE?  DON'T DO IT!!!

Stop Ordering Me Around, Chocolate!

I remember Dove Chocolate having cute little fortune type messages on them. Sometimes a deep or funny thought. These just seemed like they were telling me what to do.

It says "Sleep under the stars tonight."

No, Dove, I will not. 

Lesson Learned, or Tonks Gets To Come To Christmas!

Things get pretty hectic around Christmas.  I have so much I have to remember: making travel plans, packing, prepaying bills, utility and services to put on hold, etc.  In the hubbub we may have forgotten to get the Tonks into a kennel for Christmas.  By the time I remembered to remind Eric it was too late, and there was no room in the tiny doggy inns.  So...she got to come too.  It turns out it was exactly the same price to leave her here or bring her with us, so I thought "Wow, this will be amazing!  We will have her with us for Christmas for the 1st time.  It will be awesome!"

Nope.

I don't like flying on airplanes so I knew it would be hard on her.  Because I am ridiculously invested in my dogs well being we went to the vet, got her papers and some doggy Valium.

We got to try out the Valium right away at the hotel.  It did help keep her moaning down to a manageable volume where we could actually get a little sleep.

Even wrapped in a security blanket, flanked by the girls wasn't enough to help the poor dog sleep.

Blurry picture, but Tonks is in her carrier on the express train in the airport.  She was pretty good in the airport.  She must be a people watcher like me!

I tried to help Tonks with the air pressure by giving her treats to chew on, but I think she caught on and started whining as soon as she finished a treat because she knew I would immediately shove another one in her kennel by my feet.  She was worse than any of my kids ever where!!!

Tonks just about met her limit when we got to my parents house and she was assaulted by a GIANT loving mass of Casey.  She did NOT want to get off my lap.

and it pretty much stayed that way for the entire trip.  If she couldn't be on my lap she was hiding under the desk in our room where Casey couldn't love her to death.

Seeing her constantly on laps or on the couch made Casey a little jealous.  I'm not sure who wished he was a lap dog more here, Casey or Dad.

Toward the end Tonks started seeing that Casey really did just want to be friends and they started bonding over food.  Or basically Casey let Tonks have all the food all of the time...

Until he didn't.  He finally broke on one of our very last nights.  He had been so good, so kind, always letting her lick the plates first, but then Dad made bacon.  The bacon was the end of it all.  Casey tried to let Tonksie lick the pan first, but...well...it was BACON.  He finally snapped at her, and luckily I was there to yank her out of the way from his giant mouth.  I don't think he wanted to hurt her, he seemed really chagrined afterwards, but she didn't leave our room, unless forced, for the rest of the trip. 

Trying to Stay Motivated... ok... kind of trying to stay motivated

For some reason (a long, wonderful break in sunny California), I find it very hard to stay motivated right now. Everything seems so insurmountable. The dishes seem like alps I have to climb wearing Teva sandals, and my carpet seems like a field of wheat I will never get harvested because all I have are nail clippers (okay not a perfect analogy, but I'm too unmotivated to even think of a proper one).

I have been trying to find little ways I can motivate myself. The problem is I am started not caring. After the 5,000,000th load of laundry, 12,000,000th load of dishes, or clearing the counter for the 150,000,000,000th time I tried listening to funny pod casts while I cleaned, but then we all got sick and even the humor wasn't enough to get me to do more than the laundry that was building up. Looking around my house I realized that I had two choices: continue not caring and die buried beneath papers brought home from school, and Pokemon cards; or find something to get me going.  Haven't found it yet, but hopefully something will pop up.

 Blogging has been a little of the same. There is too much I haven't gotten to that I have been avoiding it. So, I'm going to break it into manageable pieces and try. If I don't do it now, memories of the little things will get lost, and that would only make things worse.

*Little Snippets*
 For some reason I thought I should help with the 12 days of Christmas for the teachers at the school. The kids saw me getting out ingredients for sugar cookies and asked, very nicely, if I would make some for their classes too. Interesting fact: Icing over 120 sugar cookies can make your wrist hurt. Now you know, and knowing is half the battle.

I bought the kids a fun little treat of Lindt chocolate bears, or at least I thought it would be fun. Turns out we were all sorely mislead and the bears were hollow, which lead to much howling and gnashing of teeth. The kids weren't too happy either. Turns out we may not have been the only ones to be surprised. I saw this the next day at Walgreens:

When I stopped our newspaper for the holiday break I had to fill out a form online. This is a FORM that our NEWSPAPER created for people to fill out. I didn't type in anything, just picked from their selections. Someone, at a NEWSPAPER didn't think to maybe, I don't know, edit, their form (hint, look at last few words):

Because it was December I had to keep with tradition and make sure one of my hands was unusable. While cleaning a pasta maker I cut my finger tip almost all the way off. I'll admit it was not as obscure as homemade marshmallows, but it was unbelievably painful, and a little bit cool to look at. Luckily I have friends in high places who have access to sophisticated medical equipment, (my best friend's hubby had liquid stitch).

 Also, I found these. They made me laugh out loud in the middle of Target and people looked at me like I was crazy. I love that feeling, because I secretly know they are right, and they can only guess at it.

Reason 1,000,000 I Love Disney (and it's not theme park related!), or My Crazy Ward Strikes Again

Just to clarify: Will didn't record any of the adult students, plus my songs take a little longer to get through and polish, so I wouldn't have anything to record anyways.  Also, I did teach my kids for over a year, so it's not like they were newbies when they started with Will.

New Stuff:
I had a truly...unusual experience last week, and I wanted to write it down before I head off for Christmas craziness.  I know it sounds hokey, but really it felt truly amazing to me, and I don't want to forget it.

The last 4 months have been hard for me at church.  We had a new family move in, and the wife was put into the leadership position in the organization I work in at church after they had only been there a few weeks.  It seemed like a great thing that we got a strong family and they were willing to be in hard callings.  Over the course of the last 4 months I have found myself dreading going to church more and more because of this woman.

I didn't really think that one person could affect me to the point where I questioned whether I wanted to continue going to church.  I have a very strong testimony of the Gospel.  I have faced harder threats to my testimony and willingness to go to church, and I have come through them all feeling stronger.  I think the difference is they were clear threats, powerful, immediate threats.  This was more gradual and sneaky.

I don't think I need to get into specifics, but lets just say that it came to feel like junior high again very quickly, and I tried very hard to just hide behind my piano and enjoy the calling I love.  Last Sunday she decided that my behavior was such that I deserved to be publicly ignored (for realsies.  Straight up "I can't see or hear you so you don't exist" ignored).  Being the Beesley that I am, I started crying.

She decided that I needed to go in the hall with her and she proceeded to tell me all the things that were wrong with me.  All the ways I am bad, rude, and ineffectual.  Being a Beesley I cried even harder, but being me I didn't take it laying down.  I explained how I had been effected by her, and I left church that day feeling horrible.  I don't know how many people have been reamed out for their personality at church, but it was actually pretty traumatic.

Intellectually I knew the Gospel is true, emotionally I didn't know how I could ever go back.  I spent a good 4 solid days of crying, praying, and talking to those I love, to try and get myself to a point where I felt like I wasn't going to throw up if I walked back in the church.  Nothing seemed to be helping.

On Thursday night the girls had been listening to the Frozen soundtrack and asked if I could play the song "Let it Go" on the piano for them.  We looked up the music, and we took it over to the piano.  My girls started singing with all their hearts, and suddenly in the middle, my heart was touched so deeply that I started crying again, this time from happiness.  The words aren't a perfect match to my situation. I had heard the song several times before that day and was not this affected. It is not that I heard it and went "Wow, that is perfect for what I am going through."  It was honestly just a few key lines that touched my heart through my beautiful girls earnest singing.

 Specifically they were "It's funny how some distance makes everything seem small. And the fears that once controlled me can't get to me at all."  It was a subtle reminder that eventually, with time, it wouldn't hurt so much, and also that I couldn't let that experience rule me.

It was only the second time that has ever happened to me, where I felt a personal message to me, through the Spirit, from a song, but both times have been life changing for me and I will treasure them forever.  I went to Church on Sunday, didn't throw up, and actually had a good time being there.  I am so grateful.

I Said I Was Taking A Year Off...And Then I Was Too Proud Of My Little Geeks

I think I have finally calmed down enough that I can talk about Halloween without howling and tearing clothing.  I told myself that this year we would just do store bought costumes since last year was so hard and I needed a 2 year break... at least.  Unfortunately we had just completed watching the whole Dr. Who series (to date) as a family (except a couple episodes I deemed too scary) and Ella really, really, really, wanted to do a Dr. Who theme.

As a nerdy/geeky mom and Halloween lover, this was heaven.  One of my kids wanted to do something amazing for costumes.   As a crazy person and realist I thought of a few reasons this was not a good idea: 1) You CANNOT buy Dr. Who costumes; 2) I get soooooooooooooooooo tired of everyone not knowing who we are; 3)  I am still tired of sewing from last year.

I debated back and forth for a while, but realized that they wont want to do Dr. Who forever, and they may not even want to dress up in a couple of years.  Plus, I love a theme.  We started planning in July, and though the costumes were deceptively simple, it took me to the first day they wore them to be completely finished.

Here is the fruit of my very bizarre, self imposed labor:

Ella really wanted to be Rose Tyler.  She is the Doctor's first companion in the rebooted series, and in one episode they go to the 1950's.  Ella was very specific about her costume choice.

Inspiration:

Ella:

Olivia flip-flopped about her costume.  First she wanted to be Amy, another companion of the Doctor, but then I asked what we would do without a TARDIS, and she immediately changed her mind and wanted to be the Time And Relative Dimensions In Space (the Doctors time machine).
Inspiration:

Olivia: Since the TARDIS is stuck as a 1960's phone booth we went with a kind of 60's feel to her clothes.  Her pillbox hat has a flashing light on it, just like the TARDIS!

Ethan really wanted to be a Dalek.

 I was a little concerned about how he would move around, go up stairs and trick-or-treat in a Dalek costume, so we talked about it and he agreed a Cyberman would be an ok alternative.
Inspiration:

Ethan:

The three kiddos together:

 Eric had agreed early on to dress up this year (most years he tells me 2 days before Halloween that he wouldn't mind dressing up, after I've asked repeatedly for weeks).  He had BY FAR the easiest costume.  He went as my favorite Doctor, number 10, and was able to wear his clothes from work to the Halloween party.
Inspiration:

Eric (with girls):

I had big plans for me this Halloween.  I was going to be one of my favorite Dr Who characters, a Weeping Angel.

I started the costume, tried it on and realized I looked less like a statue and more like a giant, grey circus

tent, so I scrapped it and ordered a pre-made Venetian costume I dyed to make look more like the grey I wanted.  I painted the hair piece, and made the wings out of thick foam board.  I was racing the day before our ward party to finish everything and I stabbed my thumb with an exacto knife finishing up the details and spent over an hour to get it to stop the bleeding.  Discouraged, I wanted to keep going, but when I went to screw the wings into the backing and the screw went right through and ripped up all my hard work I decided I was done.  They wouldn't be able to hold up the weight on my back with the ripped parts (but I might use them in Halloween decorating next year OTBS).

I wasn't going to dress up, but then I realized...

I could EASILY be Dr. River Song.  I happened to own all the elements of her costume, except the gun, which is easily remedied at Halloween time.

Inspiration:

Me (with my happy to be there Cyberman):

It took 2.5 hours to curl my hair like River's, but when I was done I realized that I happened to look a little bit like the 50 year old actress that plays her.  At least she is a young looking 50!

Also, OTBS (on the bright side) it gave me the best 2nd day hair EVER:

Here is our group shot:

Lots of blood, sweat and tears involved (all on my part now that I think about it), but in the end so worth it!!!

On The Bright Side of Crazy People

I am having a VERY hard time with our new primary president.  We have fundamental difference on how to interact with children, other adults, and even basic gospel tenants.  The only week I haven't come home crying from church was the week she wasn't there.

We have our ward primary program next week and it has been a crazy fest.  I don't enjoy being told what to do and micromanaged like a low level lackey in a huge corporation, but there was a bright side.  She informed me I would be playing a duet with Ethan.  Didn't ask either of us, just told us we would be doing it.  She told me to just write a piece to play.  I informed her I don't write music and she told me her 12 year old daughter was musical enough to do it if I found myself lacking.

I luckily found a Sally DeFord piece that required minimal changes to it for Ethan.  Ella found out and felt left out.  I couldn't find any other duets for any of the songs we are performing so I was at a loss.  I asked my piano teacher and in his infinite wisdom he basically said "Quit whining.  You can write one."  So I did.  It's not amazing, but it IS prettier than the original and Ella is very proud.  I've ended up rewriting the arrangements for 3 songs now and even though they probably all sound the same I am pretty proud of them.

I still don't want to go to primary but I am thankful to that crazy woman for pushing me.

Here are the kids playing their songs. They originally were playing with both hands, but they were getting nervous, and this is their first time playing in front on anyone, so we simplified.  (note to self, do not wear baggy shirts next to tiny people):

Unlucky Number 13, or I hate to ask how my year can get worse

I ran a google image search for "scary number 13" and what popped up was kind of...odd.

Okay, Maleficent IS scary, but "13"???

These clearly Canadian-TV-kid's-show monsters? Creepy, yes.  Scary or 13, no.

Google is clearly losing it...

Pancakes and chocolate milk? Health advocates may shake in their boots, but what about my stupid search for "Scary Number 13"????

At least it is a 13.  More of a "dirty, dilapidated, and fuzzy 13" but I'll take it.

To preface, I know how lucky I am.  There is LOTS in my life that is great.  This post is more about the impossibly unlucky week, and year that I have had...SO FAR!!! (maniacal laughter here)

I am not a superstitious person.  I don't avoid ladders, or throw salt over my shoulder (after a recent Dr Who villain I will make a point of NOT throwing salt over my shoulder).  I don't believe numbers or dates can be in-and-of themselves bad luck...well, I didn't.

2013 has not been a stellar year for me in anything.  We reached our health insurance co-pays by the second week in January.  My mind, body, and metabolism seem to have all broken.  The kids have been sick a lot, and I will never live down the marshmallow incident.  I have had weird interactions with people which just make me crazier, making people seem even weirder to me.

We had to replace a few things around the house, get a new lawnmower, but honestly, financially things didn't feel too bad until...da duh DUH...Eric's car died.  

It was very sudden, but not totally unexpected.  The car was over 15 years old and had a lot of wear and tear.  Still, we were hopeful to get a few more years out of it, but then the shaking started.  It would shake like a tiny purse dog, and then not shake, and then shake even harder, all in the course of one drive.  It would idle high and then impossibly low.  We took it in and got the bad news: the car was in critical condition.  Basically everything that wasn't the motor or the transmission needed to be replaced URGENTLY.  The poor mechanic looked at Eric and said "if I were you I wouldn't even bother."  Wow, when the mechanic tells you not to dump money into a car you know it is bad. 

We debated what to do, but eventually decided to use the money we would have spent fixing it as a down payment on a new (to us) car.  Although I think a little piece of Eric died not getting the truck he wanted, we were able to get a great used 2012 Toyota Camry for $4000 less than blue book. 

 Still, we muddled through.  We depleted all our resources, but we made it work.

This week has made the rest of this year seem like child's play (or jello, because jello seems nice, quiet, easy going, and generally non-upsetting). 

-On the 4th of July our front door broke.  Some of the framing split and the door wouldn't close...at all.  Eric and I managed to man handle it back in place, but then it wouldn't open.  At all.  Luckily we have a garage that we go through most of the time, so we started looking at replacement doors to order.

-On the 6th my vacuum stopped working.  It turns on for a while, doesn't suck, and then over-heats and shuts off.  

-On the 8th we were just going in the house when we heard a large bang and the garage door seemed to fall.  Turns out IT is now broken.  I was afraid we would have to enter and exit by the front windows for a while but Eric managed to rig the front door using unsightly screws so the door opens now (who knows for how long).  

-On the 9th Eric noticed our sprinklers are having major problems (but he managed to fix most of that).   

-Today...I came home from buying a new garage door opener and the lights in the garage wouldn't turn on.  Yep, something funky is going on.  After much jiggling and crying they came on.  I hope it is just the unusual heat, but I know in my heart it will be something crazy and expensive with our electrical.

I am not sure if I want to know what is next so I can prepare, or if I just want to be turned into an ostrich and put my head in the sand. All I know is I probably should go on a plane or buy any lotto tickets right now.

The Busiest Weekend, EVER... or It's Dance Time Again

There are a lot of jokes I could make about dictators, feeling like an incompetent ninny, and probably a knock knock joke about a donkey and a chicken, but honestly, seeing what the girl's dance teachers were able to pull off I have to give those women some serious recognition. Not only do they put in 1,372 hours, they have to organize all of the dancers, the annoying parents, and they pull off a pretty good show. There were 3 shows this year, with each girl dancing in 2 (or all 3 for some unlucky parents). Since Ella turned 8 and was going to be baptized this year anyways we decided to do it the same weekend as the dance extravaganza so everyone who traveled out here for the baptism could go to the recital as well. 9 birds 1 stone type of thing, or to quote a better blogger than me "Twice up the barrel, once down the side."

This year was a "high" year, meaning that our bills were very high.  Ha ha.  No, what it means is that the costumes (and sometimes props) are more elaborate, which in turn means our bill is very high.  This was Livi's very first year which made it extra exciting for her, and Ella was in 4 dances herself, so between the two I felt like half the show was my girls (slight exaggeration, but for the time we spent preparing it sure seemed like it).

 I vowed this year that I wouldn't be a behind-the-scenes stage mom, like previous years, because it stresses me out, and I always end up getting yelled at.  I can handle a lot, but being yelled at by another adult is not one of them.  I tend to cry, as is the family tradition.  As the show got closer and closer no one signed up for Ella's classes so I decided I could help with ballet.  Ballet was 1st in her show order so I could help at the beginning and then pass the girls on to the next set of moms.  Less stress, right?  Well the last week of dance and still nobody had signed up for Jazz.  I should have just walked away, but I would worry more about Ella backstage with no one to help, than about being yelled at.

So I ended up being a stage mom for ballet, jazz, and for the left-over girls in the finale (not like put in a fridge left-over, just not with a big group).  It was slightly more than I had wanted, but I want the recitals to go well for the girls almost as much as Miss Kathy.  Almost, but no one cares more than Miss Kathy. On the bright side I was the stage mom for 3 dances but only got yelled at twice.  My percentages are getting better!

With such beautiful costumes I had to take lots of pictures, so rather than have lots of scrolling I pre-digitally scrapbooked them (are those even real words).