I'm getting too old for this...

So I had the perfect weekend planned out. My in-laws wanted to take Andrew for the weekend. It worked out great. My best friend was having a Mary Kay party Friday night and I could go without having to wait for Clayton to get home from work. Then Saturday, I was going to get up early and go pick up more peaches and some pears to can about 7:00am. Go home; clean my house; maybe doing some canning or dehydrating; take a nap; watch Women's Conference....

I dropped off Andrew and headed to my friend's house. It was so wonderful. It's been a long, long time since I did anything with "the girls" and I was so in need of the recharge. So much so in fact that I didn't get home until almost 11pm. I had totally forgotten in all the excitement that I had to get up super early. By the time I got home and unwound, it was after midnight before I got to sleep. My alarm went off at an offensive 6:15am. 6 hours of sleep wasn't close to enough. I went to pick up my produce, only to wait for over half an hour because the truck was late getting there. I got the stuff home and I was POOPED! I couldn't even hardly muster enough energy to eat, let alone all the other stuff I was going to do. I struggled along until after lunch and passed out. I'm still tired, but feeling better. I'm still good to go on the Women's Conference, thank goodness.

This weekend just reminded me that I'm not 20 any more and my "old" pregnant body can't handle the late nights and early mornings of it's youth. So if I ever come to your house for a party and I'm not gone by 9:30pm, lovingly kick me out and make me go home. I'm just getting too old for this...

How "Canny"

So I took my first foray into the wonderful world of canning this week. I had the opportunity to buy tomatoes and Utah peaches for a pretty good price. I bought enough to make canning worth it and decided that I'd give it a shot. Now, I have to admit, I'm not a complete beginner. I spent a lot of time during my growing up years helping my grandma with her canning. But I had never attempted the process myself.

Saturday was tomatoes and the peaches that had bad spots that had to be used right away. To be honest, I didn't do it alone. I had my mom come and help me. And she had done canning when I was young. But being 5 months pregnant with a bit of a trouble-finder of a two year old, I couldn't very well attempt it alone. I couldn't even lift the pot of water to boil the jars in for goodness sake. So we spent all day making a huge mess and canned 28 quarts of tomatoes and made two batches of peach preserves. It was supposed to be jam, but it turned out to be somewhere between a jam and a syrup. But it still tasted good! By the end of the day, I was completely spent. My feet hurt; my back was killing me... And I still had at least one more day of canning to go to get the rest of the peaches canned.

Thankfully, the peaches were ready to go yesterday while Clayton was home to help me. Here it was... my very first attempt at canning by myself. No one with any experience to help me. Just my hubby who did what I told him to. With the exception of a momentary bought of dizziness and lightheadedness (I'm sure because it was so warm in the kitchen), we were able to work straight through and got all the peaches done before lunch time. And it was a complete success. 20 quarts and a pint later, my body was again hating me. But every single jar sealed. And for a first time and having done 48 quarts, 5 pints and 12 half-pints, that's pretty darn good, if I do say so myself.

And though my body still hates me today, I haven't felt this good in a long time. I actually accomplished something that I can see...I can show people...I can eat. I now have the canning bug and want to can all the time. It's such a great feeling to know that I am capable of a skill that will help me to build our food storage and provide healthy food for my family. Of course, I still have yet to attempt veggies that require actually pressure canning. That will be the next skill. Maybe I have a little Holly Homemaker in me after all!

Thoughts on Ike

There's been non-stop news the last few days about Hurrican Ike and all the devastation it could cause/did cause. Clayton and I were talking about the people who decided to stay behind even though they were told to evacuate. Then they needed to be rescued from their homes. First of all, I don't understand why people chose to live in a hurricane prone area and then dare complain about the destruction caused by them every year. If you can't deal with it, why don't you just move somewhere else? It's like people (though I'm one of them) who complain about the heat of the summer in Arizona. If you don't like it, move. I have adapted. I just avoid going outside as much as possible during the 100+ degree days.

Anyway, back to the hurricane. I'm sure the government has spent an outrageous amount of money rescuing these people who didn't abide by the instructions they were given. Why are we, the taxpayers, now responsible for bailing them out? In Arizona, there is a law in place that if you drive through one of the many washes that flood during storms and get stuck, you have to reimburse the govt. for the cost of the rescue. Basically, if you are dumb enough to go against the warnings, you should have to pay for it. I think they could solve this problem by simply instituting a "Stupid Person" law. If these people feel like they don't want to evacuate when they are told to, fine. But when they decide that they need to get out and can't of their own accord and need to be rescued, they should then be responsible for paying the cost of that rescue. I think something like this would really make people think long and hard about whether or not it is really worth it to try and stay when they have been told to leave.

Along these same lines, why are we, as taxpayers, bailing out people who used risky mortgages to buy houses they couldn't otherwise afford and have now found themselves in foreclosure trouble? I feel for them and their families, I do. I know people who have lost their houses. I just don't think that I should have my hard earned (okay Clayton's hard earned) money be used to bail them out. When we bought our house, we agreed that if we couldn't get a fixed-rate loan, we couldn't afford the house. And as responsible home-owners who pay our mortgages and other bills on time every month, what are we getting in return? Nothing, other than bailing out those whose choices landed them in a very rough spot.

I don't want to offend anyone, so if I have, I am so very sorry. Just remember most of this is the rantings of a pregnant, hormonal housewife with a lot of time on her hands to think about things that annoy her. :o)

The curse of Grandpa Myers...aka Testostrone Way

So I went to the doctor's office yesterday for my ultrasound. I was a little nervous. I'd been reading too many horror stories of babies with problems and was kind of freaked out that mine would fall into that category. I know...not smart. And who's brilliant idea was it to make a pregnant woman (whose bladder can't hold as much as it used) drink that much water? I thought I was going to pee my pants before it was all said and done. So we waited and waited while the tech did all the diagnostic images...only to find out the baby had it's legs so tight together we weren't sure we'd be able to find out what we were having.

Someone loved me enough to have the tech let me go pee and shake up the baby a bit. After some gentle prodding, the legs spread to reveal... a boy. Honestly, I was a little disappointed. I thought it would be a girl because my pregnancies have been so different. Goes to show that every pregnancy is different and is no indicator of gender. After some reminding from Clayton of all the good things:
Two boys to be friends with each other
Not having to start from scratch with baby stuff
Father and Sons outings (leaving mommy home in the quiet)

I am now excited about having another boy. Doesn't mean I may not try again for a girl. So without further ado, here is the newest member of our family... Baby Boy Myers~

I do have to admit, we think this is all Grandpa Myers' fault. See, Clayton's dad is the only boy of 8 kids. Grandpa Myers so wanted to have more boys in the family and was so excited when Clayton's family ended up with three boys and two girls. Grandpa died when Clayton was about 18, so we've decided he's up there "directing traffic" and pointing all the boys our way and sending the girls off to some other nice family. And so far he's done a good job. Of the boys in the family to have kids, this will make three kids and three boys. And one of the boys hasn't even started his family yet.

So, I get to look forward to at least a couple more years as the only queen of the castle and get to enjoy my fair share of testosterone.