Driving on

i was at subway the other day, getting irritated by a women's leopard print purse. it wasn't the fact that it was tacky and in poor taste, or the fact that it was fake leather, it was just really, really busy. all black and white and busy.

then it hit me.

the reason I was getting all pissy at her purse was morning sickness. there had been whispers of the nausea for a few days. But, I passed it off to eating pop tarts. Same with the boobin soreness.

but this purse, it was making me nauseous. Same thing when Mr. Hall swirled the kids' oatmeal in the morning. Then it was a purple sweater. And it was cute, these last few days. The little morning sickness whispers. It made me weepy a little. Because the baby is speaking to me.

Well, this morning she is roaring. I all but threw up in the parking lot at work today. Gah. Thankfully no coworkers were present.

I can say this. I've had morning sickness with each pregnancy and I am an old pro by now. I plan on sipping and eating bits of food and driving on. No trips to the ER to get IV fluid. I can do this, just like when I pregnant with Mac. I couldn't let his sister run around while I threw up, so I put her in the dry tub and locked the bathroom door.

Or I held her on my lap while I got the deed done.

This one time she felt pity for me. She rubbed my back and said, "oh Mommy, it'll be ok."

And indeed it will! The deafening dual siren of pukiness and exhaustion is my baby inside. Speaking to me.

Bring it on!!

i rocked the drums . . . when i played rock band 2

So, I've learned that I really like rocking the drums while playing rock band 2. It's like whack a mole and aerobics combined.

I also learned that I don't give METALLICA ENOUGH CREDIT. Cause even on easy that stuff kicked my butt!! Now, every time I hear they're songs, I bow to the masters. It's crazy awesome.

And last but not least. I learned that I really like foo fighters. Well, I love all hard rock heavy metal drumming. You just bang away, trying to keep up.

Which is just the ways I like it.

And now, let's all listen to my favorite song to drum away at.

And the lyrics that make me blush every times I hear them:

"You've got to promise not to stop when I say when"

Is this the real life, is this just fantasy?

Either way, I continue to have a deep and nourishing love of the Muppets. :)

What is that sound coming out of my mouth?

So, met with a midwife on Friday. Then, on the way home we stopped at a car supply store to buy bulbs. "Your tail light is out babe" says Mr. Hall. And for some reason, that was the funniest thing I had ever heard. I mean, someone told me that my taillight was out like 4 weeks ago but I forgot to tell Mr. Hall because I've been so wrapped up in my crazy. Crazy over this wonderful pregnancy.

So I started laughing at how funny it was. And then I started cackling, then belly laughing, then tearing up it was so funny. Then I remembered, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's laughing and giggling.

And I can say this, I've been laughing pretty much all Easter weekend. I'm tickled at the littlest things. I've been so quick to smile and giggle. So yeah, looks like we'll be going with the midwife option. I never feel like laughing after leaving my ob-gyn's office.

:) Feels awesome, I must say. :)

Someday maybe today

Someday, it'll be warm and springy. But today, it's a cold, damp day that chills me to the bone.

Someday, I'll travel around the world with Mr. Hall. Becoming touristas in the best possible way. But today, we'll be going two hours south, to my SIL's wee farm. It will still be chilly.

Someday, I'll think about dumping my high powered OB GYN doctor, who talks a mile an hour and makes me dizzy. Someday, I'll stop being scared and say no, no more poking and prodding to check if everything is ok. Someday I'll choose faith over fear.

Someday I'll choose a holistic healer to attend to my pregnancy. Then, instead of being scared, I'll start feeling natural and awesome. Then I'll start getting excited. My belly will grow round and big. Then, I'll start having home birthing fantasies running in my head. Someday, I'll meet with a midwife and be soothed, calmed and cared for.

Someday I'll choose faith over fear.

Today is that day. Wish me luck.

Take care ya'll and have a good Easter!!

the elephant in my room

When I call my doctor's nurse I get edgy. I cannot get OFF THE PHONE FAST ENOUGH. Every time I've called her in the past year it's been about me not being able to get pregnant or losing a pregnancy. Only these days, it's about my pregnancy. It's about good things. It's about unbelievable things. But, I can't shake this huge elephant in the room. The unspoken uncertainty that if I keep talking about it, I'll lose this one.

When I told my doctor's nurse I had two positive pregnancy tests she said, "OH! Congratulations!" And it took a while for me to figure out what she meant. Then I realized, these positive pregnancy tests are not bizarre artifacts in my life, but a reason to celebrate. I'm five weeks pregnant this week.

Then there is the Easter family gathering this weekend. Many a sister in law, mother in law, and aunt in law will be in attendance. I don't know if they remember the last loss. I don't know if they remember me actually announcing I was pregnant last winter or that we lost the baby a few weeks later. I don't know if they see me as a woman who lost a baby. I didn't tell them about the second one. But they are busy, accomplished women. I hope they have some faded recollection of me saying something but what was it again? What happened to Holly's pregnancy last year?

And really, I don't want them to remember anything. When I tell them I don't want them to pretend there is nothing to worry about. I want them to be all blase and carry on with their lives like nothing special is happening. Just Holly, pregnant again. But, i don't think I'll tell this weekend. Not yet.

Because there is a ANOTHER HUGE ELEPHANT IN MY ROOM.

Oh God I hope. I hope with every cell in my body I hope. I hope I hope I hope I hope I hope . . . I hope this is for keeps. I hope this baby grows bigger and bigger inside me. I hope she is developing big and strong and then nine months will pass and she'll be here, in my arms. And as hard as I try I can't help but let this hope grow. I can't help but feel this hope creeping in all over me. I try to stuff it down because that way, if something happens, it won't hurt as much but there it is, another elephant in the room. The hope.

I can say this. I will have my first ultra sound Monday. I will be six weeks. They'll check for a heartbeat and I hope I hope I hope I hope I hope.

I asked Pancake to pray

My daughter, the 8 year old Pancake, has been affected lately. The emotional impact of church is affecting her. She feels the spirit when she sings. One day she says, "I feel God in my heart when I sing.", she says. That was an awesome day.

When we drive home from church, when she is all fresh and a bit tender, I ask her about it. During those drives she is a ball of emotion. She'll cry easily, be joyful or befuddled. Sometimes she just get real quiet.

Such was the case last Sunday. I could sense something was wrong. Come to find out, it's something that's been wrong for a while. Pancake has a fear of the boogie man. "When I lay down I hear breathing and it's not me but you and Daddie don't believe me. Then I hear him talking and I think he's going to get me."

And it's true, she has this fear of the boogie man. We've tried comforting her in several different ways. We look under her bed, open her closet, pull back her curtains and show her nothing is there. We point out that we are literally 20 feet away in the next room. We put a sound machine in her room. Eventually, we just told her to suck it up. That was about 3 months ago. Apparently she just stopped telling us about her fears.

After her breakdown in the car, she bucked up a little. Later that night, I went to her room to prep her for bed. She told me she was scared and we ran through the routine of opening closets again. She was still scared. And crying. And afraid.

So I told her what I do when I'm really scared. "Sweetcheeks, I pray to help me not be scared." And I asked if I could pray for her and she said yes. So I prayed. It didn't help though, tears were still wet on her little cheeks.

I was exasperated. I looked her right in the eye and said, "Well, you pray then. You pray for God to help you and he will." She blinked a few times, nodded and snuggled with her blanket. "I'll try", she said.

With that I gave her a hug and flipped off the light.

And the next morning, while eating her oatmeal she said, "Mommy, it helped praying to Jesus. I wasn't so scared anymore." Then we high fived. That's right, high fived at the awesomeness of it all!!

And THAT'S all I got to say about that!

Number 14: I use to shoplift and steal, a lot

Welcome back to "Getting to know Mrs. Hall" Numbers 1-13 are HERE

I started shoplifting when I was about 13. Just when malls starting sprouting up. I remember I stole these black jeans with white polka dots. I was good at stealing. So good in fact, that the sales girl was helping me try things on as I stole it.

I went on to pilfer eye liner and mascara. I didn't need to though. I didn't wear make up. I stole because it made me friends. I stole and gave stuff away.

I also would take things from the people I babysat for. Trinkets and whatnot. I wasn't intentionally trying to do anything against them. I just saw stuff I liked and took it. It never occurred to me that that was wrong. It never gave me cause to pause why I kept losing babysitting jobs. (I hang my head in shame typing this.)

Then, one Friday fish fry night, at the Knights of Columbus no less, I found myself face to face with a mirror just like this:



I was fascinated by the little round light bulbs. So, being a thief, I unscrewed one. With my finger prints dully burnt, I put in in my pocket. That's when I realized I HAD MYSELF A PROBLEM.

I had gone from shoplifter to klepto. Thus ended my five finger discount career.

Then. THEN. Last Thanksgiving.

We were at my Aunt in Laws house. The kitchen is huge and my Uncle in Law makes the best Thanksgiving eats ever! Only my AIL kind of ruins it. She hovers and bosses. Even though she is not cooking anything.

Well, the food is still fantastic. And I've learned how to tune her out.

Also, this Thanksgiving, Mr. Hall was late. Mac needed stitches after all. When he got to the house my AIL had everything wrapped up and put in the fridge. Which really? I mean, food on Thanksgiving is meant to be eaten, then you go lay on the couch with mulled wine, then you go back. You don't hurry your guests. You don't start wrapping food after one plate full.

Mr. Hall got a bunch of stuff out and heated it up. Which is awesome.

But my AIL kind of hovered. Hurrying us up. The men folk don't seem bothered by this. They all stretch out on the couch, watching football. Drinking old timey nogg.

I was kind of miffed about it though. I mean, we traveled two hours. They didn't start dinner till 5. We were out of there by 8. This is no good.

So. I stole a beloved catalog of my beloved AIL.

THIS CATALOG



Which is filled with high priced crazy gear. And is a catalog I love so much but never get because I would never buy anything from it! So I took hers!

mmwwwhhhhaa haa haa!!


Janes Addiction - Been Caught Stealing

Rab | Myspace Video

I want a squirrel

That's my pool up there. With my daughter staring at it. And Mr. Hall is cleaning it. But he's not in the photo. He's busy disposing of a dead squirrel that he found. In the pool.

Gross!

Well. Soon the pool will be up and running. And I will cannonball until the cow comes home.

But first, we must teach the squirrels NOT TO JUMP INTO THE POOL. We can teach them other skills.

LIKE THIS!


hee hee, have a good weekend all :)

Just when you think they're not listening

The kids have been all about hearts and stars lately. Drawing them, coloring them, cutting them out to leave snitzles on the floor. You've heard of snitzles right? They're the bits and pieces of paper strewn about after a good hour of craft time!

Then. My little daughter steps up to the computer to draw herself a little something something.

And she draws this:



It's a heart that says "MOM + DAD".

This is what we are to her. A mommie and daddie in love.

Be still my beating heart. :)

Then, THEN. We've been working on the boy. As we are trying to get pregnant we are teaching him NOT TO JUMP ON MY BELLY OR WRESTLE WITH MY BELLY OR HIT MY BELLY and in general--be soft with me. This is hard for the boy. He's four. And a boy.

It's confusing for him. He likes to pretend he has a baby in his belly too. So he's actually being more careful with himself.

But, I still have to remind him to be careful because there will be a baby in there soon, not yet, but soon.

Then. THEN. My daugher pipes up.

"I heard you with Grandma, you can stop pretending now, I know there's a baby in there."

Just when you think they don't listen or pay attention, they do!

:)

First, I raised my hand

Raising your hands is funny concept. I mean, we are taught as little kids to raise our hands to be called on versus blurting out an answer. We raise our hands when the magician asks for a volunteer. We raise our hands to hail cabs or to flag down a friend while we wait for him in a crowd. All kids raise their hands to be picked up by their Mommies and Daddies. It's pretty cool signal.

It's a way to reach out, to get attention and be singled out.

I was thinking about this as I was singing in church. When we sing, some people raise their hands high. I never knew why until I asked somebody. Little did I know-raising of the hands is all over the bible. It's a sign of worship.

This church I go to, it's different than any church I've ever been to. They have a band, complete with guitars, drums and singers that blow me away. When I sing I get all choked up, moved by the spirit. Mr. Hall and I have started to really let loose and sing louder. It's hard not to feel self conscious at first, with all this singing. But the spirit takes over. After a while I find myself forgetting to feel like people are watching me. Then I reach for Mr. Hall and we hold hands.

It's a pretty incredible sight though, watching people throw their hands up. Singing all joyous with their eyes closed. I feel Mr. Hall and I will get there. Holding our hands high in church.

I've already started practicing. But for completely unexpected reasons. I throw my hands up in elevators, in the living room of our home, at work, in the bathroom, even in the car. I am praying and praising pretty much constantly these days. This is the first step.

The next is settling down and feeling God's love. Letting my prayers be answered. So that's my next step. Slowing down after the prayers. Being still and knowing.

And so it shall be :)

Last night 12 women laid hands on me (repost)

Originally posted September 2010



Last night I gathered with my women's bible study group. We are studying The Book of Acts. It had been a lovely meeting with pastries and pleasantries. I was light hearted and smiley. Then it was time for prayer requests. People ask the group to pray for them for various reasons. Prayers for employment, for guidence on things, for healing and prayers for sick aunts. I was going to cop out and say something about praying for more patience with my patients. I felt the need to keep it light.

Instead, this came out:

"Well, maybe I should talk about what's really on my mind."

Then, I could barely choke it out. In the prior six months of last night, I've had two miscarriages. We are trying again and I'm scared. All of this is running through my mind and I'm weighing out my words. I'm measuring how to say this without losing it. But then, I seriously lost it. It came on like a hurricane and I COULDN'T USE MY WORDS.

I just kept heaving and choking forcing bits of words out. "Lost baby. . . six weeks . . discovered it with the ultrasound . . . we are . . . then we lost another . . three days after we tested . . ." I was all snot bubble cry. Unable to form sentences. And someone came behind me and rubbed my back. Another fetched tissue. "Trying again . . we are trying again. I'm so scared . . . I don't know what's happening . . . ". And I heaved and sobbed. Then it went softer and I started breathing a little bit more.

Then one of the women said, "I want to do a healing ritual. Let's do a laying on of hands. Is that ok?" She looked at me. This particular women had hugged me in church the week prior. She's a hugger. I let her hug me.

I really didn't know what "laying on of hands" was, but I said yes. And that photo up there, that's kind of what happened. Only that's not me. But, that up there, that's what happened!

Then the hugger said the words I couldn't say, all wrapped up in prayer. "Please Lord, let her lay down all the hurt and pain from losing her babies, let her give all the pain to you. Let her heal Lord. Let her know your love. Let her feel your presence her now."

At that point I was kind of freaked out because well, do you see the photo up there? Then I made a conscious decision to deep breathe and let it all come.

The women went on, "Lord let her know she doesn't have to carry this, this is yours, let her lay it down, right here, let her feel your arms lifting her up. Let her feel the joy of making another child, of creating a miracle. Lift her up lord, right here. Let her feel the joy."

And did I mention one of the women started speaking in tongues? DID I??
Speaking in tongues was a freshly explained concept to me, just that night in fact. It's in the Book of Acts.

This went on for about 20 minutes. All the while these hands were laid on me. Some where gripping, some were lightly touching and some were just laying there. It was kind of crazy but I let go and let it all happen.

And I can say this. Today I feel absolutely fabulous. I am joy upon joy. Praise be indeed ;)

Taking one for the team

No matter what happens in the next coming weeks, I still have an awesome husband. And awesome kids. I am blessed beyond belief.

So let's all listen to this awesome song, which is my new favorite with the following lyrics.


Your mom cooked meat loaf,even though I dont eat meat
I dug you so much,I took some for the team


ROCK ON MY GOOD PEOPLE

The other JC in my life

Two stories:

1. A patient of mine reached in his pocket today and produced two teeth. He had a tooth abscess and doesn't have dental insurance. So he tied floss around the tooth, then tied the other end to a pipe. While sitting in a chair he grabbed the pipe with both hands and yanked. Pulled it right out. Abscess fixed. It was weird though. Why bring it to me? Thankfully it wasn't a gift. :)

2. You know that game, light as a feather, stiff as a board? After a long hot yoga class I was laying in the corpse pose praying to God. I would pray and say, "Lord, hear my prayer, take all my worries from me. Take all my worries and burdens. I give to you, Lift me up." I kept repeating this, each time it would get shorter till I kept repeating, "Jesus hear my prayer, lift me." And wow. I felt lifted from my mat, ... almost levitating. He has such power. I will never stopped being awed by Him.

So, that was just a slice of my week. And now, let's here from the other JC in my life.

Have a good weekend all.

Made me laugh

One of the best part of my job is the different types of people I see. I am a mental health nurse practitioner btw. Some of my most favorite patients are the big, tough biker guys.

Which is funny really. Mental health is a place of venerability, a place to tell stuff you never told anyone. There are a lot of breakdowns and break throughs. It's awesome.

So how do I get the big, tough, biker dudes to tell me their pain? How to I make them feel comfortable so they can share stuff? It's actually pretty easy.

I'm a nice person. I extend mercy. I'm not judgemental or easily shocked. I have a poker face if I do become shocked but it doesn't happen that often. Ya see, most human beings hurt in much the same ways. Divorce, booze problems, Mother beat me with a stick, Dad didn't love me, both parents were crackheads, etc etc.

I rarely hear anything new. So this pain they've been carrying, that they bring to me, I welcome this. Once they start telling me, they snot bubble cry and hyperventilate and THAT'S when the healing begins!

After a while they start to really get better. They drink less, they don't fight with the wives so much. Depression lifts and anxiety recedes. Then, they start to include the mental health team in their world. Because for so long, it's been them against the world. And sooner or later, they include us on their team.

Then the visits get fun. We can joke, talk motorcycles, sports or fishing. I know nothing of these things. But I love to learn things so they tell me all about it. Plus, the straight talk is a relief.

So many of my patients are in some sort of existential crisis. Not the biker dudes. These guys just need a good kick in the pants. Someone to tell them to knock it off, grow up a little and go to therapy. They respond to directness. It's good times.

So. What made me laugh this time you ask?

So this one guy I see, he's a big biker dude complete with sleeve tattoos. Has a scowl on his face that seems permanent. But he's been seeing me for about a year. He smiles and jokes in the office now. So we start joking and talking about fishing. Then he mentions that can't fish so much on account of his broken hand.

Last week he punched a wall and hit a stud.

D'OH!

Then I says, "Huh, well, we have a new anger management class coming up . . ."

He replies, "Anger management ain't gonna change the fact that the world is full of dumbasses and I gotta deal with 'em!"

(awesome answer I must say)

I laughed out loud at that one. It was so funny. And for him, so true!

good times, good times!

Better than the originals (Disclaimer: I never saw the originals)

Movies like Tron 2 and Star Trek (2009) carry a certain weight with them. It's not that they are part of a franchise, I mean, Big Momma's house is a franchise. It's that they are part of people's childhoods. Once upon a time, little kids sat back and their imagination went absolutely apey in the theater with these movies. I was not one of those kids. I never saw the originals.

All the better for me to get all judgey judgey no?



I did however, see Tron 2 in 3D. It was a freak occurrence. Mr. Hall never takes me to the movies. In our entire 10 year marriage we've never set foot in those "money sucking multiplexes". But for Tron, he ponied up. Also on that day, I saw pigs fly. True story!

I really loved Tron 2. It carried elements that both honored the reverence people have for the original and poked fun at itself. Plus, it has the Dude in it. I will follow that man to the end of the earth. As long as it's in film I mean.

I highly recommend watching it. Watch it with someone who watched the original. It's more meaningful if you are near someone who loved it from the beginning.





Which brings me to Star Trek (2010). I am aware of the series but have never seen more than a clip here or there. I've never seen any of the movies. However, that didn't stop me from loving the pants off this film.

I've come to the conclusion that these remakes, they are better than the originals. They mine the rich territory of good and evil inside the main characters. Which spirals off into guns that go PEW PEW!! and gigantic ships going warp speed that blow up into white sparky showers.

o. and Scotty (as in beam me up), WAS PLAYED BY SHAUN. OF.. THE DEAD!!! I would follow that man to the end of the earth. If the end of the earth was in a movie I mean.

I dare anyone not to have a riot watching this film.

To not feel anything would be illogical.

(couldn't resist that one! :)

Long weekends

These weekends, when Mr. Hall has guard, they are long. It's a matter of context I think. I mean, he's done two tours in Iraq. He does two weeks now and again. All of that I'm mostly fine with. Well, they suck but at least I have work and household tasks to keep me busy. Keeping busy keeps me from missing him so much. But these weekends when he's gone for a day and half, these are the longest.

I get the full bed to myself. I get the full driveway too. I have everybody ready for church a full half hour before we have to go. Noone is putzing or delaying us.

These weekends are just long that's all.

So I'll listen to this and perk up my mood. Because these weekends are numbered. Oh sweet glory day . . . these weekends are numbered.