Still. just... still.

Yes. I'm still here. mostly there, but still here.


There really are no proper words as to why I haven't been posting. The biggest factor is that it's 4th quarter. I feel like I have literally been going non-stop since September. between the new school year, Rachel's passing, Rhena's birthday, consignment sale, the Avon Walk, Halloween, Trying to appeal the new scholastic birthday cutoff date that will be taking effect in NC next year (means rhena will not be able to attend kindergarten with the rest of her class cause she will miss the new date (which she currently meets by well over a month, btw) by being a mere 17 days too late starting NEXT year, a kick-ass round of bronchitis that has EVERYONE out of sorts, Danny's birthday, and now with thanksgiving, birthdays, christmas parties and all THAT fun stuff.... mix it all up with the REGULAR happenings like cooking, cleaning, laundry, take a shower and shit occasionally... and again.. I'm busy.


and tired.



Also? two other things. One.. I've been working with Troy a lot on a side project. I'll do a big reveal in the new year... once we can tweak a few more things.. but it's exciting. SOME of you may know what it is already.. it's not a complete secret.. but I'm also not willing to go totally public yet. so just 2 more months.. I promise. more info is coming.

ANYWAYS.


the other thing I'm finding is that maybe I'm a little TOO publicly available. Now there's the rub. the girl who wanted all that attention is now thinking maybe it's not such a great thing? I mean... I'm not out doing anything I need to be embarrassed about... so that's not an issue...


I guess I just have less to say? or maybe the more 'real people' that know of my blog, the more filters I feel I need to have. But that would insinuate that I'm either talking shit about everyone or leading some secret life that I'm afraid of friends finding out about. And that's not the case, either.

now.. that's not to say I don't talk shit. I certainly do plenty of that. But how much negativity can one person promote? And really? in the olden days when it was just a bunch of random readers and a handful of family around the country that read of my adventures and trips into embarrassing situations.. it was fun. cathartic. validating. safe.


can I REALLY say here on my blog that I had the shits so bad the other night I thought my boobs were going to implode? well.. I guess I CAN, as I just DID... but do I need my neighbors knowing that? I dunno. double standard, I guess. I mean... it's ok if you live across the country and know my bowel and menstrual habits.... live on my street, and suddenly... shit's not so funny anymore.

literally.

Anyways. I need to re-search myself and remember why I blog. I think once I can sit down and find the time to figure that out.... I can get back to doing so. Maybe this will become just another window for people to see into my/our lives. I mean... it always HAS been... but there's no doubt that lately the blinds have been shut.

And part of me misses blogging. there is SUCH a good world of people (readers and writers and friends and strangers alike) that I have been very blessed to have come across in the past four years of being on the net. But then I get back to being busy again.. and bleh. so even though I'm not INCLINED to write anything lately.. I still like the IDEA of blogging.

anyways. I'll get there.

but now? for now I'm still here. just... very still.

Stressing Out

So this weekend is the Avon Walk.


I am stressing out.


On one hand, I'm VERY excited to be doing the walk again. After losing Rachel, my affiliation with the fight against breast cancer came to very razor-sharp focus. So there is no question in my mind that this weekend is as necessary as BREATHING to me right now.


however.


Did I mention I'll be camping overnight?


uh-huh.


me. in a tent.

I know, I know.. quit my bitching... I don't even have to walk this year, so sleeping in a fabric contraption on the cold wet ground outside with bugs is the LEAST of the physical sacrifices my body can make for this cause.


but still.


I haven't even attempted putting UP a tent since I was in the girl scouts... and judging by my calculations.. I think that was ABOUT twenty years ago. if not, longer. so there's that.

also?? I'm kind of fearing the team leader thing. If I'm being PERFECTLY honest.... this was not something I signed up for last year. I mean.. I was thinking I would be WALKING this year. then.. you know.. the whole broken toe and shower-door incident. So, ok.. decided to crew.

turns out I was put on a team where the leader MAY or may NOT show up for the weekend of the walk. not once did I get contacted... not once did I get welcomed. but whatever.. I was all new to the crewing thing.. didn't know what to expect.

The week after Rachel died, the Coordinator for the entire crew for the Charlotte walk sent me an e-mail and asked if I wanted to be a co-team leader... explaining that the current leader may not make it the weekend of the walk, and someone should be a point of contact for the team for the event.

ok. So I committed to doing that... and over the past month I have attempted to contact the other leader about 3 times. I WANTED to contact the entire team.. but didn't want to step on any toes... so I kept my attempts to the other leader.

I never heard back from her. NORMALLY... this would have been my green ticket to just bulldoze my way into the group and take over.

BUT I DIDN'T.


I really can't explain why I haven't. I ALSO can't explain why I lost my gumption to confront the coffee shop as to why I didn't see my donation pig on display... or at the very least ask for it back. I just have chickened out.


I do not like feeling like I'm sitting with my tail between my legs... too frightened to go forward, too timid to go back and confront. but yet.. here I am.


I NEED to man up and contact the team, cause I know for sure if I was on the other end I'd be frustrated that I hadn't heard anything yet, and the walk is this weekend. And it's clear the other leader is a flake. (not saying she doesn't have a reason.. just that it is what it is, and she has been totally void of communication.)


I also need to pack my gear bag. and food shop so Troy can keep our kids well-nourished this weekend while I'm at the event. and wash the sleeping bag. and write my thank you notes to everyone who has supported the cause, Rachel's passing, or just me in general.

perhaps 'stressed out' is not the word I'm looking for. Overwhelmed may be more like it.


anyways... I'm here. I'm excited. nervous. ready. TOTALLY not ready.

sigh.


I'm going to go breathe into a paper bag or something.

And so it grows....

I'm going to apologize ahead of time for this post. I'm still a bit out of practice with my blogging habits, so I imagine this will be choppy and full of tangential thoughts at best.


I've been very 'off' since Rachel's death. not the full-on depressed and mournful as I was in the beginning of September... but yet.. I've been feeling raw. exposed. weak. tired?

like I said.. off.


Don't get me wrong.. things are returning to normal. Rhena's back in school, we have our schedules to keep, I'm baking again, and just life in general is just moving right along. this is good. Even though for quite a while I have just been going through the motions of life and not necessarily FEELING them.. I look with confidence on those actions in a way that I can say at least I was moving.


But this moving along has brought me back to a sense of remorse.. kind of similar to what I felt when I first discovered I was pregnant with Danny. not that I was sad that I was pregnant with our second child.. no.. I was SO deeply happy and feeling blessed about that. but yet... I felt a nagging guilt that i WAS pregnant, and I had friends that were still unable to conceive. I even kept the news from my cousin Rachel for several months because I felt guilty that she would never be able to be pregnant again.

Nowadays, I see myself trudging forward in my daily activities... little by little moving on and becoming whole again... and once again I feel guilty because Rachel can not. who am I kidding. because Rachel is no more. It's not right. and don't get me started about it not being fair.

so yeah.. there's that. and I KNOW I need to let it go, and accept. and I am. I have. ok... I'm trying.

but the guilt. and anger. the anger more than anything. like the kind of anger that makes me actually see myself punching someone. like a real Rocky Balboa punch.. not some weak-wristed bitch slap. bleh. I'm trying.


The walk (and my involvement in it) is helping. To date... over $1600 has been raised... and I have some piggy banks out in the community, hoping to wrangle in more just on spare change and generosity of strangers.

The walk is next weekend.. October 25-26th. Being there and around all that PURPOSE is surely going to be healing. It was last year.... and I didn't even think I needed it last year. This year? I NEED that walk. I need to be around survivors and others who have lost and are still living and know that it's ok to say goodbye. Because as much as I know it in my head... I still can't wrap my heart around it.


Anyways... I was pruning the trees in our front yard yesterday, and it really made me think about all of this. Rachel, me, loss, moving on... the works. I hacked and sawed major branches off. big, leafy, HEALTHY limbs from the tree. gone. When I was done with the two trees, there was a MOUNDS of branches on the ground. like taller than my kids MOUND.

It made me wonder if the tree knew I knew how it felt. I mean.. over time.. pruning those limbs away will be healthy for the tree. It will be taller, stronger.. BETTER for having lost them.

still.


Last night I went back out and cut up the pruned branches to be placed in our yard waste bin. I looked at the trees. While I feel I was pretty conservative in my pruning yesterday... I couldn't help but notice those open spots on the trunk. they were ME.

now if I was a good writer, I'd find some poetic way to end this ramble that would encourage you all to comment.. but I'm not. I'm just a girl who misses her cousin and is trying to deal with that. Take my word when I tell you that I'm here and I'm fine. or at least I will be. me and the trees.

The Guilt Trip

Y'all know I'm Catholic. and we Catholics LOVE us some guilt trips. at least I am. I am GOOOOOOOOD about guilt.


I get this mostly from my mom. She has an innate way of taking personal responsibility for just about everything. Having shitty weather? meh... it's cause my mom said something the other day. Constipated from eating too much junk food? must be my mom's fault cause she didn't cook you a meal. even though she doesn't know you.


ok... so that's exaggerating just a LITTLE... but you get the point.

Anyways.. as the whole apples-tree-and-not-falling-far saying goes.... I also tend to walk around with an extraordinary amount of guilt at any given time. did I do enough? did I say too much???

Take this morning for instance... not 10 minutes ago, I left a comment on one of my favorite blogs.... Erin Cooks. Erin is awesome.. always hosting contests (btw.. go.. enter!! free books!!) and if you recall.. she's the one who hooked me up with the free ice cream. LOVE HER for that.

She makes amazing stuff, and takes even better pictures of it. I told her once how I had to stop reading her for a while cause I caught myself wanting to lick my laptop. but seriously... love her blog.

so the comment I left remarked how it would have been nice to see some chocolate in the icing of her cookie creations. and while there was absolutely NO ill intent of what I wrote... I TOTALLY have been second guessing what I wrote. so much that I immediately stumbled her page. and started this post about guilt. BAH!

Anyways... me and guilt.. like I said and you can see... we go back. (btw... go and take a peek at her cookies.. they DO look fantastic, and you can tell her as much. and that I'm a jackass for talking about the chocolate. I totally deserve it.)


Now with the Avon Walk, I've been feeling a whole NEW set of guilt. first off... holy CRAP.... we totally blew by the $500 dollar goal in like what.. 2 days??? and donations are still coming in. The generosity and love that has been so quickly given is BEYOND humbling. I have been regularly crying with appreciation.

But yet.. now that the goal has been officially 'met'... I'm at a quandary. TRUE.. I don't HAVE to go out and seek more donations. but yet... something's.... missing. i totally do not feel like I have spoken about it enough. Because while the amount of money that has been raised so far is awe-inspiring... I feel like it should be MORE. but not MORE as in dollar amount. MORE as in number of people.


Am I really doing enough to share my vision? Is it greedy that I think people donating just ONE DOLLAR can inspire hope? and that I want MORE people to donate just that one dollar? Is it crazy to think that I CAN get 100 people just to make even the most minimal donation so my cousin and many many other women and families like her can see the VOLUME of people that believe in LIFE for her?

Part of me feels SO incredibly guilty for wanting that... that VOLUME.... because honestly??? the VOLUME that HAS been given thus far is, as I said.. humbling. I certainly wouldn't want to shadow anything that has been done so far.

but last year.. when I arrived at the walk before sunrise, and I looked around in the stadium.. I couldn't help but feel PART OF SOMETHING as I saw the hundreds of men and women that were there for the very same thing I was... that hope.

I dunno. that's where I'm at. I'm kind of percolating on an event of some sorts... either at church or local pub or grocery store where I can set up camp until I can get x-amount number of donations. Maybe charge everyone a dollar to sign a big assed banner to be hung at the walk or something.

something.


but so far??? I can not express my thanks enough. 11 donations so far representing 31 people who believe.

11 donations, and we're OVER $800. incredible. INCREDIBLE, I say!!!!


so again.. thank you to all who HAVE donated, or WILL donate. every dollar DOES make a difference. And if you have any ideas of how I can shake some of this guilt for not doing more??? I would love to hear them.


I may start off by apologizing to Erin.

Of limits and limitations

Recently, a blog I've been reading had a post about 'naked blogging'. By her description, I'd generally say that MOST of the blogs I read tend to have a 'naked' side to them. sure, I like humor, but I also prefer to read sites written by real people. and by real, I mean authentic.


Being authentic in this world (at least in MY observed world) is an art. All too easily, we can smile and say all is fine, we can make small talk with a neighbor we truly do not like. We stuff, we fluff, we hide when we're snide. To be authentic... to show, act and speak as one truly feels takes a tremendous amount of courage. Granted, when one can finally find some congruency between head, heart, and external environment.. the rewards can reach limitless levels.


Lately, I have had something heavy weighing on my heart.


Last year, I participated in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer here in Charlotte. I spent all of last August seeking donations, and reflecting on my desire to be aligned with the cause. I spoke of my cousin, who is living with and fighting cancer. I spoke of my Gram, who passed away after battling cancer. I spoke of my girlfriend Denita, whose mother passed away from cancer when she was 15 years old. I had CAUSE. I had PURPOSE. I wanted to make a difference and raise money to not only help support those suffering from cancer, but for research so MY daughter will not have to blog about HER sense of loss and helplessness to the varying forms of cancer. I wanted to walk for those who couldn't. I wanted to walk so Rhena would never have to.


and so I did. I walked. and walked. and cried and walked and laughed and cried and walked more. I made it through that first day, and I collapsed into the love of my supporting husband, daughter and son. And then.. my legs stopped moving.

The next day, I was still unable to move my legs without extreme pain, much less get out of bed, head back downtown and walk 13 more miles. I was so physically out of shape, and my body called it quits.


I was heartbroken. I was guilty. I was angry. I was SO disappointed in myself.

To know my cousin FIGHTS TO LIVE so she has that much more time with her daughter, and I could not will my legs to move was the most devastatingly humbling experience I have ever had. My cousin once again proved how strong she was and forgave ME and made ME feel better about not being able to complete the walk. my friends forgave me. my family forgave me.


it took a long while, but I eventually forgave myself. Mostly, in part, because I consoled myself in thinking I would train more and be better prepared and COMPLETE THE WHOLE WALK in 2008.


well.. here it is.. 2008. on the eve of August, where I would begin my month of seeking donations and speaking about a cause and disease that rests around my wrist every day. that sits on my soul in every good and bad parenting moment. that filters my eyes when I go to jersey and see my cousin. that affects TOO MANY PEOPLE right this very second.

This year, I have dropped a 10 pound barbell on one foot and a shower door on another. and guess what? I'm not in any physical shape to walk 39 miles in less than 90 days.


Despite my vowing last year to make amends this year, I got caught up in life. I succumbed to grueling temperatures. I've been sidetracked with surviving Daniel's recent stage of violent tantrums. I have not been training like I should. and I know it. yes, I've gone to the gym, I've walked here and there, but deep down.. I know I haven't done enough.


So... to avoid feeling like a failure AGAIN... I did not register to walk this year. I registered to be a crew member. support staff, volunteer, behind-the-scenes..... call it what you will.

I know I should be happy about this decision. I'm still aligned to a cause I feel SO PASSIONATELY about. I can still raise money. and I can be right there cheering for those who do walk.

but it hurts.

it brings back the feelings of regret. regret for not preparing more. regret of incompletion.

it brings back feelings of anger. anger that I have an able-body and I'm not doing more with it. anger that I can't fix my cousin.


like I said.. I know I should be happy about still having the chance to be part of the walk. cause believe me.. I know me making my body walk for 39 miles will not be what cures cancer. I DO know that. and I feel that being part of the 'crew' will be every bit as rewarding, if not MORE SO, since I will not be physically distracted from taking part of the event in both a give and take fashion. I have no doubt that I will be SO rewarded when the Walk weekend is done.

it's just that right now?? well... it just is what it is. but i'll get there.

The Nose Knows

so.


yesterday Moosey had his (belated) 18-month well check. I wasn't too concerned about him going in. CURIOUS, if anything, how big he's gotten, but overall just another appointment in my book. ok, well.. if I'm being REALLY honest.. I DID have some questions for my pediatrician about his penis and his nose.


I've said from the beginning that I'm no expert on little boys' parts.. but in the past few weeks of babysitting, I've lended a hand with potty training and diaper changes for some little boys. Let's just say that getting a look at other junk made me concerned about Danny's Donut Shop. DONUT SHOP, you say? well.. yes. In the past, we were told that his lack of 'protrudement" was a result of an oversized 'fat-pad'. (uh... he didn't get the nickname Moosey for nothing, ya know?)

Now, I will admit that in the past year he's upgraded from a doughnut-shape to a mini-muffin.... so I KNOW he's thinning out a little... but still. poor kid! He definitely is not looking like the eclairs I've seen on some of the other local boys. So.. I just wanted our Doc to check his junk to make sure he's ok down there.

As for his nose... again.. nothing MAJOR, but the Moo-Moo has been producing these dark brown (almost dried-blood color) boogies in his right nostril. I've noticed it within the past few months (maybe 2?) and chalked it up to him bonking his face on something. I mean.. the way Rhena has bloody noses, a little brown boogie every other day is NOTHING in our book. but still. I figured I'd ask about it.

In terms of his 'stats'.. Doo-Doo did just great. just under 34 inches, so he IS starting to lengthen out. (between 75-90th percentile on the charts) WEIGHT clocked in at 28 pounds (a mere 3 pounds lighter than his sister, who is 2 years older and 8 inches taller!) I was surprised that his weight was only at the 75th percentile. he just seems so damn HEAVY! His noggin was right in the middle on the charts. so yeah.. all is good.


The Doc checked his goods, and she quelled my concerns saying it's still a fat-pad issue. This made me wonder about how fat men have sex.. but that's SUCH an aside right now that I won't go there.

As for the nose... well... this is where things kinda came to a screeching halt. I SHOULD have suspected something was up because she was looking up his nose for a LONG time. I figured it was because danny did NOT like this type of probing and was kicking and screaming like a mule. BUT.. I did have him restrained, and my Doc is GOOD, (like catch-a-fly-with-chopsticks-and-take-a-temp-of-a-passing-train-in-the-dark-GOOD) so her extra time up his nose was a result of concern.

Daniel has a growth in his nostril. This growth, or Polyp, can be caused by a variety of things.

Multiple polyps can occur in children with chronic sinusitis, allergic rhinitis,
cystic fibrosis (CF), or allergic fungal sinusitis (AFS). An individual polyp
could be an antral-choanal polyp, a benign massive polyp, or any of a number of
benign or malignant tumors (eg, encephaloceles, gliomas, hemangiomas,
papillomas, juvenile nasopharyngeal angiofibromas, rhabdomyosarcoma, lymphoma, neuroblastoma, sarcoma, chordoma, nasopharyngeal carcinoma, inverting papilloma). Evaluate all children with benign multiple nasal polyposis for CF and asthma.

hang on a second. BLEURGH! ok. sorry. just had to go throw up again.

so. yeah.


The go forward plan is to not stress. ( I've failed that plan already.) BUT. We KNOW danny doesn't have cystic fibrosis. so that's good. and there IS a possibility that my son just has a very odd-shaped membrane that you know... looks like a tumor. (stress stress stress)

I mean, we've never had anyone do a detailed exam of his nostril before. so is this a growth? is this normal for Danny? True, the new symptom of blood-tinged boogies is prompting concern, but lack of other symptoms (heavy bleeding, trouble breathing, other allergic reactions) are keeping danny out of the HIGH CONCERN category, and placing him in the 'raised awareness/watch' category.

So yesterday when this was told to me, with Danny kicking and screaming and my thoughts EVERYWHERE except in a calm and rational place... The Doc said we could wait it out and check again come his 2 yr appointment (or soon should any new symptoms occur) or we could seek advice from an ENT specialist. I believe my auto-pilot said we would just watch it. (at least that's what I saw my body saying when I was mentally running around in circles in the air puking and crying and screaming at the body to keep my shit together and pay attention)


As of this morning, I've put a call into my doc's office to request a specialist referral and one more review of my Doc's prognosis. I think just the blunt shock of what she was saying really prevented me from HEARING all she said and understanding what we're up against and how concerned I should REALLY be. cause this is my child. and I'm ALWAYS going to have more concern than what is probably necessary.

anyways.. that's where we're at. more to come as I know it. until then, my sanity shall continue to leave me about as fast as the tears have been.


__________

edited to add: Danny's appointment with the specialist is set for Wednesday morning, July 16th. The constant-need-to-puke feeling has been downgraded to a slightly unsettled ill feeling. Glad to have him scheduled, and I'm off the ledge in many ways.... just think good thoughts, ok?

choices

so every day I run across a series of choices to make. inevitably, each choice I make has some impact on the flow and outcome of the rest of my day. I'm sure you're saying "well no SHIT, sherlock.. that's how it is for EVERYONE."


True... that is how it is for everyone. and anyone that has a child knows that the IMPACT of said choices gets exponentially more impactful on a day depending on how many children you have. If you don't believe me.. try choosing to go out to lunch with a friend you haven't seen in a while with a sick child or one that needs a nap. go ahead and make that choice and tell me how things work out.



ANYWAYS... I'm VERY cognizant of my imaginary project timeline and how every milestone is linked to previous actions. take something as small as stopping by a starbucks drive-through for a coffee for myself at 12:20pm. That 5 (if you're lucky) to 10 minutes in the drive through may make or break my entire day. on ONE hand, it will give ME the energy and kill my appetite long enough to drive home, change a diaper, get lunch prepared and served and get everyone down for naps by 1:30 so they get in enough rest (so they're not completely melting down at dinnertime) before they have to wake up by 4pm (no later!) otherwise they'll be up too far past their bedtime (and be completely cranky the next day cause they still get up at 6-6:30am regardless of when they went to bed.)

on the OTHER HAND.. if the drive through DOES take closer to 10 minutes, the kids could fall asleep in the car on the 20 minute ride home and wake up in the driveway THINKING that they've had enough sleep and they refuse to nap which would result in a complete emotional breakdown for everyone under our roof by dinnertime, OR they will be dead to the world upon arrival and then not GET to eat lunch thus waking up from said nap too early from hunger and being completely cranky until bedtime finally arrives..


perhaps my kids and I are just cranky by nature. either way... it's a big balancing act here at the fever, and every decision made is with timelines and personalities in mind. and pooping. we revolve our day around poop a lot, too. but I suppose that could be another post.


Troy, after being at this now for 3 1/2 years, is JUST beginning to understand the BIG PICTURE SCHEDULE. but he's still got a long way to go. I say this because he regularly offers chocolate to rhena AFTER she's brushed her teeth and is already up past her bedtime (= sugar rush = longer to settle for bed = extra time to re-brush the teeth = overtime for momma and did I MENTION I don't get paid overtime???) and many other cases that I'll not get into now.

my point is that every day, choices are made, and consequences are had.


now every once in a while, you get to make those choices that don't necessarily impact the day-to-day flow. Like right now... I'm debating on getting my foot checked, or getting my hair done.


I know... sounds dumb, but I've been mentally listing the pros and cons of each, and I'm kind of at a tie.


if you recall, I dropped that big assed shower door on my foot a few weeks ago. it took well-over a week for the bruise to even APPEAR, but whatever. it finally came and has finally left. The thing is, aside from a slight dent on my foot, it looks and feels better. (DEFINITELY a faster recovery than the big toe debacle, FYI) the problem is... it HURTS like a motherfuckingholyasscrackerBASTARD if you so much as even TOUCH my foot. hmmmm. now, I'm not so sure just HOW LONG the recovery is for a foot that has had a shower door dropped on it, and have been too lazy to google it. (ok, strike that.. I just did. nada, except for this story about another very klutzy person...)

ANYWAYS.. not sure what's normal for the foot. Foot "post-dropping-a-shower-door-on-it", that is. SO. I COULD go to the doctor's. I probably SHOULD go to the doctors'. but the problem is that my foot LOOKS fine. and it IS fine, except, you know... when you TOUCH it. so what will they say? probably tell me to go to the ER and get x-rays. now, up front, that all sounds normal... but you have to remember who I'm married to.

Troy, AKA "I change jobs every 6 months cause I'm a contractor and like finding new places to code my ass off", is, as stated, a contractor, so we're usually in some form of insurance change. in fact, we change insurance policies ON AVERAGE of three times a year. which means that we are ALWAYS starting over when it comes to the deductibles. bottom line.. if I get x-rays, I'm going to have to pay for them. maybe not right away, but I WILL get the bill for $200 dollars or so at THE most inconvenient time.. like right after I've ordered favors for rhena's 4th birthday party. or when her preschool tuition is due. or you know.. mortgage.


and $200 isn't so bad.. it really isn't. but that's a haircut and color for me, people. now.. before y'all judge.. I KNOW I can go out and buy a box of color for MUCH cheaper and do it myself... but I HAVE done that in the past, and believe me.. it does NOT look good on me. my ears always end up a tinted color and I burn my scalp and I miss spots... ugg. just not good. I'd rather grow the roots and pray that my grey (I mean PLATINUM BLONDE) hair stars to come in to make it look like highlights.

so what's my point, what's my point. I suppose nothing, really... just that I'm hemming and hawing on whether to go get my foot professionally looked at or get my hair done.

I know! shallow! dumb! get the foot taken care of, you freakin knucklehead!

but.. the foot. if it IS broken; they can't really do anything for me. At least I don't think they can? and if it ISN'T, then I just wasted the money on getting xrays. and the hair... well... getting my hair done will certainly make me feel better. and not just for the physical appearance upgrade... seriously.. getting out of the house sans kids for a few hours is like ordering a dish of SANITY.

oh, who the hell am I kidding? I know I'm going to get my hair done. seriously-- troy's gone this whole weekend, and after being home all week on lock-down cause we were afraid we might be contagious... momma NEEDS a slice of sanity.


I guess I'm wondering if I bother with the foot. I mean.. I would KNOW if it was broken, right? (hmmm... that's the third time I recall saying that this year for different reasons. I may just be a bit more clumsy than I thought I was.) hmmm. I'll think on it some more.


speaking of thinking.... I was looking at the back of my tongue the other day, and saw these weird spots... But there's this really cool DRESS I was looking at, too.... what's that? oh yeah.. nevermind. I'll be quiet now.



.

This, That, and the Other Thing

so it occurred to me that I haven't posted here in a while. granted, I haven't really posted over THERE, either.


and that's not to say that I DON'T have things to say/post/whatever... I just haven't done it.


the week has gone by quickly from my perception. mowing the lawn, working out the new deck details, rhena's school, dance class, troy working late, an upcoming bake sale, and a few other normal snafus along the way... you know.. LIFE.


anyways... I'm here. the dolls didn't get me. I'll be back around more next week.

End of an Era

so today... I officially quit bunco.



I have a LOT of reasons why.. one of course being that someone threw up all over my house... but that for sure is not the only reason.


I suppose that's perfectly natural considering I went to bunco for all of about MAYBE three times in 2007? despite having a set date once a month.. I just was NOT able to get it together most months. either the kids had issues or troy was working, or we were out of town...


the biggest reason I think is the guilt. NOT GOING month after month has started to bother me. I mean.. for no lack of planning, like I said.. I just couldn't make it most months. this would leave me pissy, frustrated, short-changed.. you name it. month after month.


so I decided to stop kidding myself, and remove my tendency to get my hopes up and inevitably get disappointed each month. which is all a bunch of bullshit mind games to myself.. cause deep down I know I quit cause I have to keep putting my family's schedule and needs above my own... but on the surface I guess I at least feel like I was able to make the decision to quit. like some reverse-psychology empowerment or some shit.


oh well. bunco nights come and go. having a happy and harmonious family takes work and maintenance... and I feel (at least I'm hoping on this premise) that with enough investment now... I shall reap the rewards of free time in the future.

(yeah.. like when the kids are old and grown and doing their own thing and I have no friends or sense of self to do anything with?? I'll have PLENTY of free time then, right?? crickets chirp.)

ok. sarcasm aside.. I feel ok about this decision. I mean.. I don't get much time with my husband... and family time (meaning the four of us) is even rarer... so do I REALLY want to whittle away the few occasions a month that troy IS HOME on a night in some one's house surrounded by a bunch of women that I haven't seen in months? on the effort-out-reward-in scale... I'm just not feeling the balance there too much .

and once again.. I see I'm using words like balance again. can you TELL I haven't found it yet???


oh well. for now.. I'm cool with dropping out of bunco. I seriously doubt I'll see the women involved any more or any less now than before... and if the action of quitting takes away just one more thing that I stress about.. well, then I guess that's a good thing, Martha.

unleashed

so lately, I feel like I've been exposed to.. in some fashion or another... questionable parenting techniques.


today was a doozie, and I SWORE I was just going to walk away... not say anything. "let it go, let it go...." I told myself.


I went upstairs and folded some laundry. but that got me fired up even MORE, cause I was folding the kids' clothes... so that just made me stew.


so as you may or may not know.. a few weeks ago, I took a parenting survey. sick.. unsettled.. the whole deal. you can read back.. it's only a few posts ago. so TODAY.. I'm reading online about a friend who has a friend who is smoking. while pregnant.


ok... I see isolated cases of stupidity like ALL the time.. most of the cases from myself, as chance would have it.. cause well.. I'm around myself the most. but the smoker apparently admitted to knowing that smoking while pregnant is bad... but JUSTIFIED it by saying that HER mother smoked while she was pregnant with HER, and since SHE turned out ok, that she's going to smoke, too.

right... because APPARENTLY the nicotine exposure she had in her life has had no effect on her cognitive reasoning ability... and since she herself is now not addicted or anything.. she's just CHOOSING to expose her unborn child to nicotine. cause you know.. she's fine and everything.

or you know.. spanking. "my parents spanked ME, and *I* turned out ok!!" Cause I guess bullying, hitting or otherwise ABUSING a CHILD 20-30 years younger than you is considered 'ok' behavior.

I find a cases like these behaviors for someone in my age group to be as equally appalling as racism. I mean SERIOUSLY. That old adage "well it worked for my parents, and *I* turned out ok" is shameful. I mean, UNLESS your parent is like 3 or 5 years older than you... I do not see how ANYONE in my generation could subscribe to that line of thinking.

in 'my parents' day"... yes... they drank a few beers while driving. we as children sat on laps.. or in the back-back with no seat belts. wooden spoons and belts and waiting for fathers coming home were feared. people smoked. indoors. drugs were done and unprotected sex was had. and hey.. we came out ok. right?

but that was then and this is now. I'm not saying that what my folks did or didn't do was right or wrong. what I AM saying is that we're playing a different ballgame now. in the last thirty years... information has become available. research has been done. medical documentation has PROVEN the effects on a fetus of smoking, drinking and/or doing drugs while pregnant. We also have learned that SHAKING a baby to quiet it while screaming can cause brain damage.

I mean.. I'm no doctor.. but some of this shit is SO BASIC and considered common knowledge now that I can't understand how people can say ... "yeah, well.. I'll take my chances".

For whatever parenting techniques my parents might have employed that I do or do not agree with... I do so because I'm making my choices based on the information available to me... as in right here and now. just like they did thirty years ago. (ok.. thirty PLUS years ago) I do not in any way fault my parents for anything they may have done "wrong' by today's standards. They did the best they could based on the knowledge, resources, and history available to them at the time. SHIT.. there's things that I do differently with Danny because shit changed over the 2 years that passed between his and rhena's birth.

Were my parents WRONG for pulling a britney and having me on their lap while they drove to get their cheetos fix at a local store? NO. they didn't even HAVE car seats back then. SO why was the media so agog at Brit-Brit's choice to go without the car seat? I mean.. hey.. SHE turned out ok, right?


And listen.. I know my argument of things working for parents etc doesn't hold up in ALL categories. I feel that my parents did A SHITLOAD of things right... and many many many are behaviors I chose to expose my children to. But being a sensible adult now.. being a parent myself now.. I feel it is my DUTY... for the sake of the innocent humans I brought into this world.. to make the best decisions based on information available to me... and not just press play and repeat.

Win some, lose one

bleh. I knew this would happen. Troy whooped my ass this week in our diet challenge.


He lost 3.8 pounds this past week, and I only lost one. I SHOULD be happy, considering I ate at wendy's on friday (junior bacon cheeseburger AND french fries... I about died from the delight of it all) AND I have yet to go to the gym.... and hey.. one pound is one pound!

but still. I hate losing. losing in a competition, that is.. not losing weight. we've already established that I like to do that.


The prize this week is that the winner receives a half-hour, full-attention (meaning no tv, no excuses) massage from the loser. bleh. I HATE giving massages. I have weak hands or something (read I'm lazy) but man.. I just lose interest in the giving after like... 2 minutes.


oh well. fair and square.. I'll pay up. my total loss is up to 6.2 pounds. not bad for 2 weeks in.



in other news.. I participated in a north carolina university survey yesterday. it was based on parenting techniques/discipline behaviors. there were a lot of questions that established environment.. such as race, income, neighborhood, and marital status as well as primary child care situations.


after all that was established, they asked my and troy's habits in terms of interaction with Danny. they stated that their line of questioning comes from statistical findings of discipline methods from around the country as well as around the world. so yeah, yeah.. I started answering. the questions started off easy enough... how often do I praise Moosey, cuddle with him, read a book to him. then they got into the negative disciplines... asked how often I or my husband hit danny with an object such as a belt, spoon, or hairbrush on his buttocks.


This question didn't strike me as too alarming, as I know there are people (some of which I consider friends) that consider 'spanking' as an effective method of discipline for their children. This is NOT a method that Troy and I believe in or will ever be convinced to employ for our children for SO MANY reasons that I shall not list here... as that is not my topic. not that I've ever been afraid to go off topic or say something that might piss other people off... I just want to get back to the survey.


anyways.. I was easily able to answer the questions seeking to know that troy and/or I have never smacked, swatted or otherwise hit our children with any object or with our bare hands on their buttocks, back, head or other part of their bodies. Then the questions went further. have we ever pinched our children? intentionally put spicy food in their mouth as a form of punishment? called them names like stupid or useless? threatened to leave and never come back? locked them out of the house? scream or curse at the child? shake to stop crying? scald, brand, or otherwise burn?


at this point in the survey, I could not contain my emotions. the 'focus group' of the survey were children UNDER the age of two. answering these questions and watching Moosey play in front of me made me want to throw up. do people REALLY do that? to BABIES???


overall, the survey made me sick and unsettled. are we as a society THAT uneducated and barbaric?

again.. it made me sick and unsettled. and perhaps there's no point to my writing this other than to get it out of my system. I know where I stand in terms of what I feel is acceptable methods of discipline for my children, and I will do my best to always rise above the symptoms of the situation so that my children can learn to do the same in THEIR future without resorting to violence. my only question is that I wonder if that's going to be enough.


note - If you want to comment, I encourage you to keep in mind the following. First and foremost... this is NOT about you. If YOU do or don't beat, curse at, swat or otherwise hit your children in the past, present or intend to do so in the future... that's your business. Frankly, I don't WANT to know. I just wanted to share my personal experience and reactions to something that happened yesterday. and to let it go.


at the end of the day, I found myself able to love my children even MORE. My resolve to be a positive influence on my children was re-established and recharged. and while I know that's no sure-fire guarantee that my kids will turn out to be GOOD people when and as they grow up, it's still what's going to work for me and troy.

only 120 minutes

so today was Rhena's first day of preschool.

She was only there for 2 hours... part of some ease-in period they have for the little ones. And the full-length class is only three hours, so when added to the idea that she'll only be going twice a week... well... I suppose it doesn't sound like a big deal.

but it is.

At least to us it is.

My baby boogie-loo... my rhena-beana... my monkey, my monster.... did I say my BABY??? went to school today!!!!

SHE--- was thoroughly excited, and is already asking when she gets to go again. This is big stuff, considering that the only responses she's had around humans other than Troy, myself, Moosey and our folks is that of hiding, crying, or pretty much hiding AND crying.

So again.. for her to want to go to a place that requires her to be around people (and SPEAK to them, for that matter) is like an ass-hair short of a phenomenon.

ME---- well... I had my tears and fears about a month ago, and a teeeeeny little bit again for good measure last night. I told Troy that it was kinda like the night before a big exam. nothing I could do at that point would change how rhena would behave, react or perceive her school. Nothing could be done to change HER. she was either going to be ready or she wouldn't. I would have either done my job in raising a tolerable (dare I go for PLEASANT?) little girl who would respond well in a classroom situation. (two weeks shy of) Three years in the making.. all boiling down to 120 minutes.

ok, ok... so maybe everything wouldn't be riding on today's 120 minutes, and that's just my flare for drama and suspense coming through... but you know what I mean. It was still a pivotal point in MY mind.

So I let go of the worries last night, and was able to enjoy today. We took pictures. we sang songs while getting dressed. we took more pictures. we had a dance party, we packed her snack, and we went to school. and you know.... took a few more pictures.

we did not cry.

Not when the three kids in her class erupted into full-on terror fits when THEIR parents left. nope. no tears. Not when she said goodbye to danny and told him to be a good moo-moo for his mama. nope. no tears then, either. And definitely not when I got *MY* kiss goodbye. we both did good.

In fact, there was nothing but celebration and happiness today.

SO I guess that's why I find it strange that as I sit here, looking at the little girl below with the big ole happy face, full of excitement and anticipation of all that the day would bring... that the tears are slow and steady to run down my cheeks.

Maybe they're left over from last night, maybe it's the pride I feel in how well she did today... maybe it's just that little tiny tugging at my heart knowing that my baby is slowly but surely growing up. even if only 120 minutes at a time.

Rest in Peace

The fever will be on a slight hiatus. not as long as the beginning of the year, I promise you that.

I just found out that my great uncle passed away.


This fact in and of itself is sad news to me, but it is also drudging up a LOT of emotions and memories of my grandparents. I can't recall feeling this lost in quite a long time. but NOT lost.

I have a lot of shit to figure out; primarily (and quickly) whether I'm going to drive up to jersey or not. and what to do with all this shit I've got going on in my head.


Anyways.. I'll be back in a day or two when I can type out something a little more coherent. got some funny shit to share, so I definitely won't be gone long.


Rest in peace, Big John.

in the wee small hours of the morning

Danny was up early today.

I'm not going to get into how I'm really really trying to teach him that it's ok to sleep through the night right now, cause that's just a sad sad topic. period.


Anyway.. he was up at 6am, so I decided to hit the streets.

we got a good 20 minute walk in, and while I have to clock the mileage, I think we did a little over a mile and a half. not bad. definitely a good way to get the blood pumping for the day. oh, and to burn off the big-assed sandwich, beer, and two cookies I had for dinner the night before.


it's interesting what a different place stepford is in the morning. It's so quiet. I love it!


no screaming kids, no gossiping hens, no toothpaste commercial smiles on every corner with their perfectly practiced queen's waves.

don't get me wrong.. I actually do like the elements of stepford that make it, well.. stepford. I ENJOY the friendliness and sense of community... the warm and welcoming smiles, the friendly banter...

but I also like to be left alone occasionally. especially after a long night of screaming and crying. actually gives me a chance to think.


so today I was thinking about friends. Granted, I've been thinking about them for a while now, but this morning, I was thinking about certain friends that I haven't seen in a while, then I started thinking about some friends that have been around the whole time.


it's funny how you can have friends that things are always good with, others that you kinda get into a rut and go on auto-pilot, then others still that were always kind of there all along, but recently you realize just how very similar you are with them and you wonder why in hell you're not at their house right now drinking coffee.

but I guess in some respects, the friendships I have and maintain are just reflections of my own life as it has its ups and downs. ... and the wheels go round and round....


ok. that's enough babble. I guess I'm just saying that it was a nice walk this morning. Nicer still when I got home and was able to unstrap the Moose from my chest. you don't think about what a difference losing 20 pounds is until you strap it on, have it bounce around for 20 minutes. Hard to realize I had that much extra bouncing around for about 7 YEARS. yikes!



happy friday, gang!

pulse point

yeah, yeah... I'm still here.


good news, Susie had her baby boy last Friday... all is well. We here at the Fever are totally in love already, and we haven't even met him yet!

Seamus Daniel.

(that's pronounced Shay-mus, for all you non-Irish folk out there)

congrats to my Lovah and her entire family. Truly, they are blessed.



ok. moving on.

Camp "Keep the panties dry" is thriving. there have been many many funny sayings these last few weeks alone, and I almost wish I had written them down. However, given Rhena's insistence of just how "berry punny" she is, I don't think we're at the end of her off-the-cuff remarks. I almost think I need to start another blog entitled "Actually..." where the entries would all consist of her sayings.

but that's an ALMOST. cause doing so would require more work on my part, and in case you can't tell.. I'm not exactly pumping out the writing over here these days. so yeah. almost.


I've been missing things lately. and not the missing things like last year when rhena would hijack things from my vanity drawer and hide them.. I mean people.

My friends. I really REALLY miss my friends.


BTW---- Debbie J--- seeking an echo, momma. e-mail me your number in colorado... please!


I've been so busy with trying to get through each day that I've once again disappeared off the map. And the only thing that I can honestly say I've gained is the insight as to why everyone nags couples about when they're going to have kids.

I THINK.. and I could be wrong.. but I THINK the reason why so many people (read as 'established couples with children of their own') constantly badger other people (read as 'single people or newly formed-slash-newly-married-but-still-no-kids-couples) about when they will have kids is not because they love a good baby story.. it's cause they're looking to absolve some of their own GUILT!!

people... I've become a REAL ASSHOLE. I am SO CONSUMED with my own life, that I have NOT been a good friend. I've missed birthdays, weddings, graduations, parties, housewarmings... you name it. but a-hah!!! when the 'miss-ee' has children.. THEY UNDERSTAND why you're a total fart-knocker and haven't been around on the regular. Most of the time, cause they've been there/done that/still doing that themselves, and realize that when you only get 15 minutes of silence a day between the hours of 6:30am and 7pm (wait, no.. baby's crying again.. ok... 8pm.. oh, wait, no.. there he goes again, shit.. make that NINEpm) anyways.. when free time is limited...it's understandable when you miss shit.

So to all of the two readers I have out there that haven't been scared off by my redundant tales of mommy-dom... just know that if someone asks you when you're having kids.. it's most likely cause they feel like a jackass for forgetting you, and want you to have kids to even the score a little.


well, except me. it's no secret that I've been missing shit cause my head has been up my ass for a while now. And I really do love a good baby story.


hope all is well, everyone. I need to go fishing under the couch for some lost toys. and maybe my sanity. I know it's got to be around here SOMEWHERE.

Settlement

feels like lately all I've been doing is going from one stage of settling to another.


whether it's a new routine, a new location, my blog, a new job, a diet, or new face in my/our lives... we're always getting settled.


now.. this is either a sign that I'm a very grounded person, or that my life is always in a state of upheaval.


hmph. I guess we all kinda know which one applies, huh?


oh well... variety being spice and all that shit, right? I guess.


I wonder if I'll ever feel "stable". granted, after the week we had last week, it's a far cry from a miracle to think I'd have stability any time soon. But... I look at my parents, and some other couples I know... and it just seems like they're so... TOGETHER.

do I want that? I guess I do. but on the other hand... I guess I already DO have that. I mean... my children and husband are together with me in this chaos called life... and that alone is comforting. and if our lives were so predictable and without variation, I'd probably be bitching up a storm about that... or sleeping.


oh.. how sleep sounds so delicious right now.....


oh well. maybe that's just one of the side effects of the early stages of parenting. the constant sense of frenzy. no... chaos. no.... uncertainty. no... that's no quite right either. maybe it's all of that and then some. I think just the fact that I can't put a finger on the state of my environment goes to show just how very un-stable shit is.

but again... would I have it any other way?


anyway.. hope all y'all out there are getting settled into summer. it's hot here, so if you need me, I'll be holed up in the house with the AC on full-blast.


oh... btw... I finally started adding links back to my sidebar. if I've forgotten you, or have you on and you don't want to be... just let me know. M-baby... are you still super-stealth, or do you want linkage? lemmee know, k?

The most expensive week EVER

ever have one of those weeks where shit just can't HELP but to fall apart all around you???


yeah.



so things started last week when our washing machine broke. on thursday. apparently, God decided that draining the water from the washer's drum would make shit a little too easy here at the appollo... so here I am, with a screaming moose and pooping boogie, and a shitload of water in the machine that won't drain. oh, and my folks on the way. sweet.

fine fine... take care of the kids... call sears and schedule an appointment for someone to come fix the damn thing, and finish cleaning the house so my parents don't personally witness what a chaotic mess the house can become.

sears says no one can come until monday. fine. well, not really fine, cause did I mention the screaming moose and pooping boogie? I'm pretty sure we have enough clothes to get us throuh til monday, barring any major illnesses and atomic spills, so let's just pray the machine will be fixed on monday.


ok fine. folks get in, and visiting begins. all is fine.


staurday morning, troy, my dad, and I go about roto-tilling the back yard so that we may assemble the son of satan... I mean this playset. 2 days of HARD ASSED labor, rhena's park was erected. did I mention the 40 bags of regular bark mulch and THIRTY bags of rubberized playground mulch??

yeah.. so anyway...

Monday, Troy's car kinda died on the way home from work. when I was cooking dinner. while my folks are here. ... the good news is that he was able to get it going and got home safely... more importantly, without us having to call a tow, and me truck my ass to the interstate to get him.

so tuesday didn't fare as well, cause the car REALLY died on his way to work. got it towed to the local honda dealer, and we waited on an estimate. the initial estimate came back at $600+ dollars to fix the timing belt and some other oil leaks. yeah yeah.. better than having to buy a new car... go ahead and fix the damn thing.

well.. I guess when they actually got under the hood to look at the stuff, it turns out shit was melted and fused together and now the DETAILED estimate of work was in the ballpark of $5k.


uh.. can I get a giant FUUUUUCK!!????!!!!

24 hours full of crying, heartburn, stress, more crying (this time by the kids, not me), ANOTHER missed bunco... we are now the owners of this truck.

I need a nap. and a night out. and then maybe another nap.

but now the chilluns are up, and it's go time again.

oh... remind me later to tell you about how you shouldn't leave standing water in your broken washing machine for 4 days while waiting for the repairman, cause your whole house and 50 ft perimeter of such will smell like rotten eggs. and as you pay the repair guy $250, you wonder if you'll ever walk into your house again without the smell of putrid ASS choking you.

Feeling Itchy

well... I had a feeling this day would come, and sure enough.... it did today.


there has been scuttlebutt around the streets of Stepford, and most especially at the recent Bunco gatherings of someone hosting a toy party.


a sex toy party.


I just got my invitation this morning, and I have to tell you... the whole idea makes me feel itchy. ok, ok... I'm sure many (if not MOST) of you are wondering what the problem is with someone throwing one of those sex toy parties. To be completely honest... I don't find anything wrong with someone HAVING one of those parties... I just have major issues with the idea of ATTENDING one.


I mean.. let's face it.. I'm not single anymore... (not that I ever had sex before I got married, mom and dad....) and as much as I enjoy my neighbors... these ladies are NOT my girlfriends. I mean... I don't discuss my marital sex life with these women.. why in hell would I want to purchase an accessory for it in front of them???


I guess it goes back to my little barometer I have when it comes to friends. There's the kind of 'friends' that you would allow to see you without a bra, the kind that you let come bathing suit shopping with you, the kind you can get drunk in front of, the kind you talk about your husband with, and finally... the ultimate level of trust in friendship.... the kind you would go to vegas with.


so... being that only a few of them even qualify for the no-bra level, you can imagine my apprehension for browsing things I would use wearing LESS than my bra.

and of course... if I've said it before, I've said it 100 times. I have issues. my brain??? it's one of those things that just does NOT shut off. the visuals keep coming no matter WHAT I do to cover my eyes. Think that part of Fight Club when Tyler is splicing in pornographic images into kids' movies. it's as perverse as it is horrific. This is about as best I can do to describe the visuals my brain conjures when I think of knowing what toys my neighbors are buying for use with their husbands.

insert itchy feeling here.


seriously... I've MET these women's husbands. and while there is no way I want to be thinking of the bunco girls themselves naked.... I SURE as hell don't want to picture them doing it with their husbands. then to add an element of kink??? my eyes burn just thinking about it.


so no. I do not think I will be attending the party thursday night. I'll be bleaching my skin that night.

Now Ear This

oiy.


I think I'm getting a hang of this motherhood thing. For the first time that I'm consciously aware of... I have a sneaking suspicion that something is wrong with Moosey. sure, the constant inconsolable crying is a big hint, but let's talk about one thing at a time.


The past two nights have been a rough time here at the Apollo. THANKFULLY.. Rhena has been fine. Other than the fact that it seems to be Bloody Nose season again, she has actually been a joy. so hooray for that.

Danny, however... not as good. VERY irritable, hasn't been eating as much, hasn't been napping as much, (forget about night-time sleeping either.. the last two nights he's been training for the Fidget Olympics....) all in all, he's been a pissed off little boy who wants to be held and tries to break free the minute you pick him up. Laying him down has been a bad idea, too. Honestly, I'd keep him upright in his exersaucer all damn day if I wasn't afraid he's konk his head on one of the attached toys.

Add in a boogery nose, and I'm thinking this may actually be an ear infection. I gave him some Motrin twice yesterday, and shortly thereafter he actually calmed down a little. SO!! today at 8:30, I'll be calling our pediatrician to give her the symptoms and see what to do next.

It's weird... Rhena was never sick, but this Moose of mine... he's putting me through the ringer! (ok.. so technically, this would only be the second time he's getting sick, but compared to rhena's once-in-two-and-a-half-years... this twice in less than 5 months business is ringer material.)

so all in all.. it makes me wonder. is Danny really just more prone to getting sick cause he's the second born? because rhena is secretly putting germs in his mouth when I'm not looking? Maybe am *I* becoming a better parent and am more in tune to what is healthy and non-healthy behaviors?

I mean, really... I think back to rhena's first few months... and there were a LOT of times that I just figured she was generally pissed off and I was a complete idiot as a parent cause I couldn't make her happy. Maybe she was sick back then? I don't know.

oh well. water under the bridge now, right? Only a few more minutes and I can call the doc. like I said, I'm imagining that they're going to say he has an ear infection. In which case, I imagine it's going to be another round of 'wait it out'.

Last Supper

yeah... so ironically.... I celebrated my own little version of a Last Supper last night.


no... I'm not about to get crucified or anything... I just mean to say that last night was my last meal of gorging on meats and cheese with a side of more. (more meat and cheese and potatoes and junk and.. and... and...)

Yes... I have to admit it... my fat ass has started Weight Watchers.


today.



My starting weight was only 2.4 pounds above their published 'healthy' range for my height... but at 143.4.... I have to say it's about time I do something.


Now.. I WILL admit that although I wasn't hungry for them.. I DID knock back 4 chunky chips ahoy cookies (each cookie is approx 700 calories and like 30 grams of fat) AND I also took an extra spoonful of my homemade macaroni and cheese. This wasn't necessarily a 'last hurrah' kind of gorging... it was strategy, you see.


so I FIGURED if I stuffed myself to the bones and wore heavier clothing (I'm wearing cords today!) to the weigh-in... then THEORETICALLY... my very first weight in would be a devastatingly high number. SO HIGH, in fact, that it would be virtually IMPOSSIBLE for me to NOT have good results (read big weight loss) by next week's weigh-in.

I feel like I just won immunity this week on the Biggest Loser, and I'm setting myself up for a significant loss at the NEXT weigh-in so I can be above the yellow line!!


*chirp chirp* said the crickets as Carrie realizes she's gone on such a tangent that no one even gives a shit what she's saying anymore....


anyways... I've always rationalized that I look fine, and for someone in their mid-30's, I don't need to be super skinny. after all.. I'm a MOM now!!! I'm SUPPOSED to be soft, right???

maybe not so much.


So while I'm not so bad off that I'm COMPLETELY disgusted with myself and crying while looking in mirrors (strike that... I tried on a bathing suit the other day and was pretty grossed out by my rear view) ANYWAYS.... I think I need to drop 10-20 pounds. Not so much for the idea of being the magical weight of 125... but for feeling good about myself and being happy in a size 4 or 6.... not an 8 or 10 where I am now.

so now it's time for me to put up or shut up. I'm hoping by being honest about my standing weight (and not the 30 glorious seconds a day after I wake up, pee, take a crap and am naked on a scale that I clock in at 138.4) and stop blaming the doctor's office scale for being off, or my clothes for being heavy.... or one of the many many many other reasons why I justify some number for being ok even though it makes me puke a little in my mouth to hear someone tell me that THAT particular number is my weight....


anyways.. I'm hoping to find the real Cze-Johnson under all these thighs. you know the girl.... she's the one who swore she'd never ever EVER buy 'mom jeans'... especially for herself.


wish me luck! oh, and apologies in advance if I end up being a little bitchy in the next few weeks. Apparently, in addition to having loads of fat in each cookie... those Chips Ahoy bastids also put mild sedatives in every bite!