If you're not feeling compassionate, or are in any way feeling all on top of your game and unable to relate to a sniveling, exhausted, feeling a wee bit sorry for herself preggo without starting in on a "count your many blessings" lecture, then you may want to forgo reading this post. Because it will probably annoy you. And giving me a "count your many blessings" lecture will likely result in a homicide. As in yours. By me.
You see? Even just that little bit of overdramatic-ness made me feel a little bit better. Because I've spent pretty much my whole summer checking my emotions and taking deep breaths and trying to keep perspective. So sometimes I just have to get irrational.
Speaking of getting irrational, Sam and I reached a milestone in our marriage this summer that may just give hope to marriages everywhere! A milestone previously thought to be impossible for men. And it has to do with Sam going ahead and letting me get irrational once in a while. Without trying to fix it, or change my mind about being pissed, or discourage my rage-filled unhealthy perspective. He has learned that the cure for my occasional emotional outbursts is to simply let me have them, give me a nice, firm tushy squeeze, and carry on. And maybe sometimes even root my raging on... making me feel nice and validated. It's taken lots of years, my friends, but he's got it! And it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, this "milestone" outburst may have happened directly after two days of severe puking on my part due to some mystery illness I contracted and may have gone something like this:
Me (Sobbing): Nobody is treating me special cause I'm sick! Everyone is ignoring the fact that my face is covered in broken blood vessels cause I've been puking so hard for two days straight! Nobody is worried about my unborn child even though I haven't been able to keep down a sip of fluid FOR 48 STRAIGHT HOURS! Everyone just keeps trying to make plans with us like I'm just faking this or something and my sickness is imposing on THEM! I HATE UTAH! WE'RE NEVER COMING TO UTAH AGAIN! I HATE FAMILY AND I HATE YOU!
Sam (instead of telling me to cool my jets and stop being such a whiny biz): Well let's get the hell out of here then! We're going to Park City, just you and me and Leah! Screw everyone else! I don't give a crap! Let's do exactly what you wanna do.
And I stared at him in bewilderment for a few minutes, sniffling. And then I felt much better. And then I delivered a small lecture on how we need to be grateful to our hosts and how it would be rude if we left to Park City.
Now, back to me complaining. You know when you're going through a period of time and just kind of plodding along, enjoying some and struggling some, and it's not until the end that you look back on it and say, "Ok, that really, really sucked." And you realize that your memories of the time are a bit fuzzy because you just had to sort of paint on a smile and numb yourself subconsciously the whole time to get through it? Well, that's how I've been feeling about my summer. It's not that it was all horrible. In fact, I spent a lot of it having fun with my family. But it was just a really hectic, less than ideal, spouse is absent and going through hell, keep it together man, kind of summer. And when your whole summer is that way, it starts to feel a little overwhelming and desperate.
I flew home to Chicago last Saturday night, marking my 8th flight of the summer. 5 of my 8 flights were cross country and only 1 (my flight home) was with Sam. The rest were by my pregnant self with my two year old and three 50+ lb suitcases. You'd be alarmed how amusing people find watching a sweaty, bulbous woman, heavy with child, heaving suitcases from the baggage claim conveyor belt, while simultaneously trying to wrangle a two year old... turns out it's super funny.
Anyway, my summer itinerary, for documentation sake, went as follows:
Chicago to Baltimore (2 weeks)
Baltimore to Salt Lake and onto Idaho Falls (3 weeks)
Salt Lake to Baltimore (3 weeks)
Baltimore to Phoenix (2 weeks)
Phoenix to Baltimore (1 week)
Baltimore to Phoenix (1 day)
Phoenix to Salt Lake (2 weeks)
Salt Lake to Chicago
Sam had to stay in the forsaken little cesspool of Balticrap the whole time, participating in a bit of cruel and unusual punishment in the form of a sadistic internship. And he returned to me with translucent skin, dark, hallowed out eyes, and his little bright-eyed and bushy-tailed enthusiasm about the world of big-shop investment management dashed to the ground.
Needless to say, it's been a relief to be back in Chicago... even though the first night we got home our car got broken into and some of our crap got stolen. I like to think of it as reality's way of saying, "Vanessa, while you're feeling all smitten and starry-eyed being home and back with your husband and friends again, this is just a friendly reminder that you live in South Side Chicago... and if you don't wipe that silly grin off your face, your a@$ is gonna get shanked."
Anyway. I've already documented my time in Idaho and Phoenix in my last few posts, so all I have left is the last two weeks we got to spend in Utah together after Sam's internship. And aside from Sam's PTSD symptoms, they were a glorious two weeks, indeed.
Picture overload!
We started out on the 4th of September, celebrating Meradith's 27th birthday. I thought I was super clever and bought "28" candles as a little joke... but Meradith found them in her pantry before I could put them on her cake. I was alarmed when I heard, "You betch!" (pronounced with the "e" to make it "curse legal") reverberating through her kitchen when she made the discovery, and then became overcome with rage that my little joke had been spoiled. So she got "82" on her cake instead. For being nosy.
Please note my big, blue nighty in this picture. I bought it at Walmart and wore it all day for no less that 3/4 of the summer.
We jaunted up to Temple Square and when my mom saw this she literally yelled, while looking around all shifty-eyed, "They can't pick those! We'll get arrested!" Seconds later the Temple Square swat team came summersaulting over the wall and rubber bulleted poor little Le and Lu. I thought it was a tad excessive, but my mom just stood there nodding her head in support of justice being served. Then she lifted her shirt to show me her own spray of rubber bullet scars... and her new belly ring. Ok, I'm tired... and I've taken this all a little too far.
Leah got a taste for living outside of the law and spent the remainder of our time there plotting to outrace Grammy back to the flowers... you can see the sinister plan formulating.
This little game ended abruptly after they accomplished their third stranger heel clipping.
I like to call this one, "Bowling for Buzzards." Lucy saw these two sister missionaries, turned the stroller on a dime and went barreling towards them. They actually had to jump and stumble out of the way. I was enjoying myself watching, pretending they weren't my kids... but Grammy is more civilized and put an end to the splendor.
I've never heard Leah more excited pointing and yelling, "Yee-sus! Yee-sus!" and then she and Lucy immediately attempting to scale him. Warmed me wee little heart.
While we went up the mountain, my mom got to work beautifying Leah... I'm sorry but babes in makeup are always startling to me.
Sam's parent's neighbors have an alpaca farm and house all sorts of other of miscellaneous creatures on their property as well. Here I naively held out an apple to attract some of the local fare to amuse the littles. Little did I know that satanic emu was going to attack me through the fence and nearly make off with my finger. It swallowed the apple whole and Sam, Mera and I tried to make a run for it after we thought we had killed it because the apple sat jutting out of its neck for like 30 seconds before it worked it down... in the words of my elder sister, Bethany, when I recounted the story to her, "Oh yeah, there ain't nothing behind an emu's eyes." Amen, sister.
The littles were feeling snobbish about the colder pool water and spent most of their time flailing around the hot tub.
This was actually our first of two trips up the Sundance ski lift. If you'd like to pee your pants continuously and develop a severe case of swoot, or sweaty foot, then I highly recommend taking your two year old on a lift up the mountain. She spent the duration wriggling around, trying to climb on my lap and struggling to force the restraint bar up to "get down!" It was thrilling! You'd love it!
After we made it back safely on the ground Leah took a little reflection time next to the fish pond... to ponder her behavior and various suicide attempts on the ski lift.
Grammy, Lucy and Carson soon joined her... because surprisingly they had all tried to do the same thing. Even Grammy.
Marmelade about to make her dismount, shouting at the conductor to slow down and trying to detail her recent hip surgery as an excuse. We all had a good laugh when she ended up dive rolling off to the side to avoid getting clipped by the seat.
This is a classic shot of toddler "smack and regret" syndrome. Leah just doesn't quite know her own strength yet. But she always feels a lot of guilt and anguish after she lashes out.
This shot was taken right before my mom and I experienced our own little episode of "smack and regret" syndrome.
Sam also developed a severe case of "creepy smile" during his internship. I assume it was from too much forced butt-kissing. We've just started to get that smile back to normal.
You can see my hand trying to wrench her face towards the camera in this one. It wasn't happening. She slapped my sunglasses right off my face.
They really look alike in this one
Me and Mer loving each other
The mood changed abruptly when Lucy decided to swipe a bit of Leah's popcorn...
And one final little shot of the Turkey Sub looking delish at the park for good measure.
You can probably sense I started petering out on this blog post about half way through... turns out writing it was nearly as exhausting as my summer. BUT, there you have it, dear friends. I'm sorry I've been neglecting so long and thanks for reading.
