Hy-PO-tension

If any of you had been here this morning to witness the little meltdown I had (and I'm awfully glad you weren't), you would probably be certain that I had a problem with high blood pressure, a.k.a. hypertension. Truth is, it was probably the closest my blood pressure has come to normal in a few weeks. Like 19, if you're counting. Every doctor's appointment I go to, I'm complimented on how great my blood pressure is. And I nod, and laugh, and quip the same joke about how hard I work at it. I'm starting to rethink that response. Because low blood pressure doesn't always equal great blood pressure.

I remember waiting in line to pay at a store when I was about this pregnant with Addie and suddenly feeling dizzy and faint. When I mentioned this to my OB, she told me it was just my blood vessels relaxing in anticipation of the increased blood volume that my pregnancy was bringing. Because it was my second pregnancy, my vessels already knew what to do and were either

1. Eagerly anticipating their increased job responsibilities.

Or, and I feel this is the much more likely option,

2. Slacking off and "relaxing" early just because they could. Incidentally, they decided to get my intestines in on the action. Those intestines of mine are so relaxed about doing their job I'm thinking we could shoot a whole episode of Hoarders up in there.

My blood vessels have gotten increasingly lazy with each pregnancy. With Maggie, I ended up needing to teach all my lessons at church while sitting in a chair because I couldn't stand for more than a minute without feeling woozy. But this little fetus has taken it to a Whole. Notha. Level. It has completely cut off the blood supply to my brain.

This pregnancy, I get light headed when standing still for seconds. Without the movement of my legs, my body can't be bothered to get the juices flowing all the way to the top. I end up bending down quite regularly to "play with my kids" while waiting for Chloe after school when in reality, I'm debating just completely laying down on the sidewalk to clear my head. For the last 4+ months, I've been too lazy to even get mad at myself for being so lazy. I sleep 9 hours a night and wake up craving a nap. I stood under the water in the shower this morning, rinsing my hair, and couldn't remember if I was rinsing it in anticipation of washing it or if I was rinsing it because I had just washed it.

I leave gallons of milk on the counter for hours. Last night I put the dinner leftovers away in a container, then brought the pan over to the sink to wash it, along with all the pots from the last three night's dinners. I'm hoping I actually remembered to use soap when I washed them. When I finished, I turned around to find that despite thinking I had put the leftovers away, I had actually left the container on the table with the lid off. I'm sure pretty soon, something I've forgotten in the kitchen is going to give me a nasty case of salmonella. But hey, that might be the wake-up call my bowels need.

Even funner, I've been getting some really nasty headaches throughout this pregnancy. I've come to realize it's not my body telling me how desperately badly it wants Dr. Pepper and is actually my brain telling me it needs blood. Then, just this week I've started having a stiff neck and upper back pain. Initially I thought it was because I was spending too much time playing Bubble Blaster on my phone, but on a whim today, I googled "pregnancy hypotension" and guess what? Fatigue, light headedness, headaches, stiff neck and sore upper back are all symptoms. So, I took my afternoon rest with my feet propped up on the back of the couch. And now my back doesn't hurt as much.

Basically, I'm just looking for a way to justify all my bad behaviors this pregnancy. I'll keep googling until I find a diagnosis that also covers "extremely short temper" and "loss of ability to cook." But in the meantime, expect to find me lying on the couch with my feet over my head, cursing at angry birds while something in the kitchen smokes.

(And I will bring it up with my doctor at my next appointment, though I'm sure the response will be, "Just take it easy and drink more water and have your partner give you a back massage.")

Booger McSnottyface

For the second week in a row, I took Maggie home from church early because I didn't want to share the products of her nasty nose with the rest of the nursery. You're welcome. I will also admit I was eager to come home early myself because

1. I had the beginnings of a really special headache coming on.
2. Sacrament meeting had run about 20 minutes over, which in kid time equals 3 extra hours of trying to keep them "reverent."
3. I love to ditch church. Yeah, I said it.

I still wasn't clear as to whether or not my motives in coming home early were entirely pure (i.e. Maggie really was sick) until this morning. Here's the thing. Maggie gets colds like I get colds. We both start to feel rotten for a day, maybe have a scratchy throat, a little mucous, nothing super specific.

But day two, the faucet opens. Seriously. My nose runs so hard and fast, it's all I can do to stem the tide. The snot pouring from it is the consistency of water, and if I don't keep a tissue in hand at all times, is likely to just flow forth onto all surfaces. I once had a roommate remark that I wasn't using my tissues very "effectively" because she couldn't believe how many I was going through. During this portion of my colds, I have often had to resort to sticking tissues up each nostril just to do basic household tasks, or even go to sleep. You're right. I am very, very sexy.

After day two, the tide usually stems and the flood thickens, allowing me to function for a couple days until it thickens so much that it glues my throat shut and I have moments where I can't breathe. On those days, I use one of these. If you haven't tried one for allergies/colds/sinuses, you really should.

Today when I went in to get Maggie up for the day, I knew I was right in keeping her home from church. Because she looked like this.

Like an old man in a toddler suit. I say old man rather than old lady because her hair growth still puts her more in the old man category. Although Maggie is usually very willing to let me wipe her runny nose, and can even blow it when I ask her to (Unlike Addie, who still sucks in. Special.), I am not there to help her in the night. And in the night, she rubs that runny snot over every last inch of her face, right up into her hairline. And as a result, when that mucus dries and cracks, she looks like she's aged 70 years.

I've spent all day chasing that little monkey with a tissue, but I'll admit, I haven't worked very hard at cleaning the rest of her face. I'm kind of hoping if I let it build up, by tomorrow morning I will be able to find her work as a circus freak.