Strange Dream.

I had this very realistic dream last night.

I was pregnant, and seemingly the same age I am now, except my mom was in charge of me as if I were ten years old instead of an adult.

My mom had called my childhood doctor to come over to our house (which was a house I have never been to before in reality...) in order to diagnose my mysterious illness.

I told the doctor the symptoms of my illness and she seemed very serious. The "symptoms" involved describing my constipated pregnancy poop in great detail, and my mom had pictures to share of my poops!

Then the doctor was flipping through a binder and writing things down for the longest time. I was so incredibly nervous. Normally the doctor was cheerful and talkative, but this time she was grave and quiet.

Finally, after an eternity of nervous silence, she spoke. She asked me if I had a pain right outside of my left arm pit on a regular basis.

Why yes, actually, that was a symptom I forgot to mention!

Mhm, she nodded and frowned. Then she went back to her binder. For some reason I was unable to read or understand what was in the binder, though I was trying desperately to look at it over her shoulder. I was confused and scared.

Then she announced that I had cancer. My mom agreed and said she had suspected this all along.

I was shocked. I didn't feel like I had cancer!

I asked the doctor what was going to happen to me, and she pulled out another binder with glossy brochures in it. She flipped to a blue brochure with series after series of pictures of kids who had been treated with this chemo-like drug I'd have to take for my cancer. For each child there was a before photo of them looking healthy and happy, then a during treatment photo where they were looking a little bloated and missing patches of hair, then a near death photo where they all had no hair, very fat bloated faces, and depressed nearly lifeless eyes.

I was horrified.

I told the doctor that I was pregnant and she said that IF my baby survived the treatment, she'd never be allowed to breastfeed and that I should just give custody of her to my mom because after the treatment, should I still be alive, I'd be an unfit parent.

I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.

The doctor left, smiling and waving goodbye as her normal friendly self. I just sat there on the couch silently.

My dad came home and started discussing my cancer with my mom, as if I wasn't even there. I kept asking them if I should take a blood test or something to be sure that I actually had cancer before I got this horrible treatment, and they yelled at me to just trust them and stop being such a pest. I was scolded for interrupting their conversation.

I went in my room and sobbed my eyes out. I was so terrified. I could feel my baby kicking hard inside of me and I didn't want anything bad to happen to her. I didn't want her to be born without her mother to love her.

The day came for me to go to my first treatment, and as we walked into the hospital I completely panicked.

Then I woke up sobbing! I had been crying hard in my sleep. The baby was still kicking hard.

I felt shaken by the dream for hours. It was completely and totally random, but very emotional. It feels as if it really happened.

*shiver*

In other, less depressing news, today has been a fairly normal day.

Rosie has been busy painting, coloring, cutting with her kid scissors, and playing with the dogs. We also played outside with the fowl tribe for quite a while earlier.

Right now she's building with her wooden blocks. She says she's making castle libraries. Then Abby (the dog) knocks over the tall, tall towers with her tail or her nose and Rosie screams with laughter. Over, and over, and over.

By the way, this is what happens when you use my expensive wonderful camera as a point and shoot....it's so crappy! My big flash is out of batteries, so I used the camera on automatic with the on-board flash....

A kid and her dog...she loves Abby.

Tyler asked Rosie what she was painting and she responded, "A mess! I don't how know to paint."

I did some laundry today, baked brownies then ate too many of them, and spent an unmentionable amount of time watching my ducks forage in the yard for bugs and weeds.

Benny is a lot cuter than June, but that's not why I always take pictures of him. It's because he stands still and quacks at me for two seconds...June just walks off. Funny thing about ducks, when they sense danger they turn their backs to it. I'm pretty sure they think I am actually going to shoot them with the camera, so they turn their backs to it and waddle off.

A daily photo of Benny...this would be a fun project except that he looks the same everyday.

I also have a love (err...obsession?) with breeding chicks to have the largest beards possible.

I don't know why. I just can't help myself.

This hen is from a batch of chicks carefully selected for beardage. She's nearly fully grown now!

Isn't her beard GREAT? I love to stroke it.

I can't wait to find out what color eggs she will lay. They will be either brown or a shade of green.

I somehow managed to create three more of these hens, all of them totally identical to one another.

The fifth chick in the bunch turned out to be a rooster. He looks absolutely nothing like the hens, no clue why.

But he's bearded too! His name is Buzzy.

This little thing is from my attempt to make chickens with small crests.

Unfortunately they seem to die easily, and this is the only one I have left.

They aren't thriving for some reason. I think they are too timid.

I've started pampering this one in an effort to keep it alive....

First Snow!

To Rosie's great delight, we woke up to snow flurries this morning.

She immediately had to run outside in her coat and gloves to play in the tiny bit of snow we got.

Apparently cold biting wind makes her happy.

My chickens were not quite as amused with the snow. It was the first time they've seen snow! The oldest ones were just little chicks under the heat lamp last winter.

They didn't want to step out of the coop and onto the snowy ground!

(You'd be shocked at how difficult it is to take properly exposed and in focus pictures with a 3 year old throwing snow balls at you and chickens pecking your butt every time you squat down.)

Usually they bound out the door with glee...today, however, came with much hesitation!

The ducks were even funnier. I wish I had a video...they ran to jump into their duck pool not realizing it was frozen!

Instead they slid and quacked hysterically on the icy surface for a minute before hopping out and going to investigate the snow.

Benny has the cutest fat cheeks I have ever seen.

I know I've written about it before, but I am in love with my ducks.

Everyone should be required to own a pair of soft, quacking, waddling ducks in order to fully enjoy life.

The way they eat out of your hands tickles like crazy!

Benny was curious about the snow...

He discussed it with June, his female companion, for a few minutes.

He quietly says, "mwack mwak? mwak mwak?"

And June responds, practically honking, "QUACKITY QUACK QUAAAAACK QUACKITY!!"

Right, so I think that means it's safe to taste the snow...

Snow cones for everyone!

Evil Cackle.

When I was growing up we had two cats.

I always begged my mom to let them come inside, but they were never allowed. Occasionally they could come in our basement for a few hours in the evenings when we sat down there around the fire place, but that was it. They weren't allowed upstairs or anywhere in the rest of the house. At night they were locked in our garage, so they didn't get into trouble prowling the neighborhood with stray cats in the dark.

So of course as soon as I moved out, I got my own indoor cat.

It's only natural, right?

And then Tyler found another cat who was going to be put to sleep at the humane society. She was so friendly, he claimed. She'd already been there more than a month, that's a long time for a cat to stay alive at the shelter.

He begged and begged and begged, and so we brought her home.

Then one hot August afternoon I went out on the porch and there was this tiny ball of fluff laying there right by the front door. It was matted and coated in fleas and too weak to walk.

Hum.

I couldn't just leave it there.

So it was bathed, fed, watered, re-energized, and became a bouncy, hyper, ADORABLE kitten.

I took it to the shelter, as planned, but there were billions of other cats and kittens stuffed 3 or more to a cage.

I couldn't just leave her there. I got her spayed instead, and back home she came. Now she's a full grown hairball barfing cat machine, sleeping on the back of my couch.

THEN...

For some reason, God only knows why, Tyler brought home another fluffy little kitten from a cat rescue that had animals for adoption at Petsmart. Because, he claimed, we already had three cats...what's one more?

That little kitten turned into a 30 pound bag of purring fat and fur a year later.

Now I have four cats.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate cats?

Mainly, I hate their poop. How can something so cute produce such a horrible odor???

And I hate their fur. I made the mistake of getting a dark brown couch cover that seems to suck white cat fur right onto it. I vacuum daily, but still...FUR! Why are they so attracted to my clean laundry pile, you know the mountain I keep not getting around to folding until it's fur coated and I have to wash it again?

I also hate their destruction. Not so much clawing, but they prowl in the dark and they run around like crazy and knock things over. No water glass is safe from being tipped over by a paw. This has caused much, much anger. I've resorted to only using bottled water or cups with lids.

One of my cats goes outside for most of the day. Another cat will go out for a few hours at a time every couple of days. That helps a little.

It's pregnancy that really makes me hate cats. I feel like they are everywhere, destroying everything.

I mean, they probably aren't...they are just purring and napping and triumphing over imaginary Evil lurking about our house.

It's just the nesting phase...I CANNOT GIVE BIRTH INTO FUR.

So I mentally go through the cat roster and wonder which one I could re-home...and I can't pick one.

Dammit. I love them all.

But I hate them.

And I can't get rid of a single one.

I'm sure it's all a part of their master plan to take over the world. The moment you try to *really* hate them, they hop in your lap and purr.

Bah.

*insert evil cackle here*

The Peace of the Wild Things

The Peace of the Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry

December Daily Photo #2

I make no promises to keep it up, but here's a picture for today's daily photo...I took it yesterday afternoon.

Rosie never, ever stops moving. Not for one single second. She also does a horrible fake picture smile, and usually has food or scratches or marker on her face. So, this is all you can capture. Bonus, however, is that it's actually a capture of Rosie herself, how she really looks. She was in the shadows and bright sunlight from the blinding afternoon sun coming through the back door.

I'm somewhere in between a state of disbelief and uncontrollable excitement at the thought that I will one day soon, God willing, have two beautiful little girls.

<3

For anyone curious, because I always get asked this...

My camera is the Canon 40D. This picture was taken with the Canon 85mm lens, which is one of my favorite lenses ever. The camera was set to 800 ISO, f/2.5, and the exposure was 0.001s. I use all manual settings, except for the focus because I have not the ability to capture a fast moving target (Rosie) in focus without it on automatic. In Photoshop I used my favorite black and white action (Boring Old B&W from the Totally Rad! action set), bumped the contrast up a little with the Boutwell Magic Glasses action from the same Totally Rad! action package, and that was it.

I usually get a lot of photography questions when I post pictures, but I suck at answering comments. So, if you have any questions feel free to ask them here and I'll do my best to answer in the comments section. I don't know even close to everything about photography, just basics...just enough to make it fun!

Little Red Riding Hood and her little sister.

Yesterday Rosie saw a picture of a Waldorf Doll in a Flickr picture I was looking at and she asked me to make her one of those.

We got scrap felt from the scrap bag and I made Little Red Riding Hood.

Rosie then insisted that Little Red Riding Hood must have a baby sister and a sling to carry her in, so I had to make those too.

Baby sister comes out of the sling to play, of course.

Their little faces are simple.

They only took a couple of hours to make. I just used a needle and thread because I hate fighting with my sewing machine. It would take longer to wind the bobbins and all the sewing machine requires than it did to just thread a needle and sew it. My stitches are far from perfect, but Rosie doesn't mind. Adds to the homemade charm, right? Haha.

These were so much fun to make. I want to buy more colors of wool felt and peach jersey knit for their heads and make more dolls! I'm sure they'll get better with practice.

Genetics are mysterious.

I think I must be anemic. That could be part of why I've been feeling so miserable.

I *finally* got some Floradix. It's a natural iron supplement. It doesn't interfere with digestion and is readily absorbed since it's made of herbs/food based rather than an iron pill.

I've taken Floradix before, it's full of B vitamins that give you a great pick up.

I've been wanting to start taking it for awhile, but it tastes strong...like a shot of liquid raisins, and I felt too sick to even try. I took a dose of it the night before last, and yesterday I woke up and actually had energy. I didn't feel like I was going to die! I didn't even dry heave yesterday, that I can remember.

Then I forgot to take it all day yesterday. Oops! I need to take it today, because I feel funny in the head this morning, again. Kind of dizzy but not exactly. Just..yuck. Lay down, close your eyes, don't gag, don't gag, don't gag...crap, I'm gagging...don't vomit, don't vomit, please don't vomit. SWALLOW hard. Don't move. Cry.

If I take the Floradix everyday and feel human again, I can accomplish my to-do list for this week!

I want to make salt dough ornaments with Rosie. I need to go buy some white flour to make the dough with. I'm not sure how pretty whole wheat ornaments would look. We also have to buy some paint and paint brushes.

Vacuuming is on my to-do list. I need to stay caught up with it, unlike the past 5 months or so. I usually vacuum every day or every other day because of pet fur, Rosie crumbs, and dirt that gets tracked in. We have all hardwood (except for linoleum in the bathroom and kitchen) so dirt and fur just spread everywhere, rapidly. Our backyard is very muddy, and any mud that gets tracked in will dry and get knocked across the floor. It drives me insane! Also, our kitchen floor is white linoleum, which means any tiny spec of dirt or black dog fur makes it look absolutely filthy.

Yeah. So I really want to keep up with that again.

I got Tyler to clean out the crusty nasty crud around the kitchen sink this weekend. It was so disgusting. I left the dishes to him while I've been pregnant so far, and it has not been pretty. Now that the crud is all cleaned out, I might be able to attempt doing dishes again without throwing up in the sink. I desperately want to do dishes every day like a normal person.

I really want a garbage disposal for Christmas, but I don't have enough money to buy one and get it installed. I hate fishing wet, soggy food bits out of the sink. GAG GAG GAG. I mean, I hate it while not pregnant, but while pregnant it's just not happening.

I don't want to overwhelm myself with to-do's because then I will just lay down and dry heave and cry. But I found my green home organization binder and I want to get back on track, I really really want to get back on track.

I have a laundry mountain of clean clothes to fold, and dirty clothes are piling up again.

Can you believe it's going to be December tomorrow? Time is flying! I made it to 20 weeks. My baby girl is half cooked. I cannot wait to meet her and see what she looks like, and what her personality is.

Rosie is an exact clone of Tyler. The only differences are her hair and eye color, and she randomly has my mom's lips. Not my lips, but my mom's. My grandfather, great-grandfather, and great-great grandmother all had those same shaped lips. I have my dad's lips though. How odd is it that Rosie managed to get the lips from my mom's family and I don't have them??

I wonder if...oh I almost typed her name. I wonder if the baby will have those lips, or my lips, or Tyler's lips. She could have any eye color too. Tyler has green/brown eyes. Sometimes his eyes look very green. I have blue eyes. Obviously Rosie somehow got blue eyes. My mom has blue/green eyes, so if I have her lip gene I could have a green eye gene also. The baby could have brown, green, or blue eyes.

I also have no clue what hair color she might have. I have always had copper colored hair, and it sometimes just looks brown. When I was a baby it was sort of orange for a few years. Tyler has always had dark brown, almost black, hair. Rosie was randomly born with blond hair! My mom has blond hair. (Another strange generation skipping thing, like the lips!?!) I have no idea how two people with dark hair could produce a blond child. So the baby could have any color hair too. Brown, blond, or red.

Baby pictures of Tyler and me are funny to look at.

Tyler, as you can see, clearly used my womb to clone himself and create Rosie. He's the baby, on the left.

That's Rosie, of course. See the cloning factor??

On the other hand, here I am as a baby. I had troll hair and elf ears. (Hey, Rosie did get my pointed ear tops...see above photo.)

My mom said she tried constantly to slick down my hair but it would just pop right back up. Eventually that point turned into a single curl, and it spiraled (literally) from there.

Other than making the same expression in the above two photos, baby Rosie and I don't share much resemblance.

However, I think the baby might share my nose. Maybe.

I was a really chubby baby.

What if I produce a baby that looks like me??

I can't wait to find out!