Date night!

so one of the things I touched on in the new year's letter to friends and family is that Troy and I are going to start having a monthly date night. I'm proud to say that tonight we have reservations at Ruth Chris, and I have a dress that miraculously still fits me after all the eating I've done this Christmas. ok.. so no miracle.. it's a stretchy material, and I bought it in the REGULAR women's size instead of the petite size. but still! even in the regular size it's a very single digit size, so that's good.

I could go on a really long tangent about my deep-rooted fear of become crazy fat again like I was when I was in nevada. and some people could easily get pissed off or more so have no sympathy cause my neurotic self-image makes me feel that me in a size 10 is absolutely disgusting, and for a while I was packing size 12s in nevada. this is not to say that I look at someone who may be a certain size with utter disdain. just myself.

but this is my blog and my issues, and I'm telling you my petite 4s are not fitting me and I feel fat. but hooray for psycho-crazy mind games... the dress I'm wearing tonight is a 4... albeit REGULAR size 4... but that knowledge that I can still wear a size 4 combined with a glass or two of wine will allow me to push through my OTHER deep rooted issues of lacking any semblance of a sex drive and perhaps.. just perhaps have a conjugal visit with my husband. just sayin'.

ok. not bad. only a short tangent.


so anyways. date night! tonight! babysitter.. SCHEDULED! annnd... the best part? well, not sure if this is the best part or just another really good part or what.. BUT... I already have our babysitter lined up for a date night in February! woooo! (see? TOTAL "WOO!" girl, I am, I am!) so yeah.. 2 for 2! this is big, people!


last year we gave ourselves a goal of going to 6... only SIX restaurants over the course of a year together. we went to 3. THREE. over a WHOLE YEAR. and only ONE of the restaurants was together. not good, dude.


so our date is tonight (WOOO!), and next month, our date is on valentine's day. TOTALLY corny, I know... but??? but! I have NEVER been on a date for valentine's day in MY LIFE. I have been out drinking... I have been home crying, I have been home sick, pregnant, or otherwise tending to a child in some form of distress... but never out with my man on the day itself.

so next month we continue our journey into LIVING together by having a date on V-day. again.. corny, I know. but corn is a vegetable, and I need to be on a diet, and vegetables are good for diets, so bring on the corn.

and wine.

you know... just a glass or two.

Public Apology

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this is an open letter to any client of Victoria's Secret that happened to shop at the Southcenter Mall in Seattle, Washington during the years of 1998-2002.

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I am sorry.


I am sorry NOT for giving you confidence in your purchase. I am NOT sorry for giving you a perfectly fitting undergarment. Despite my position only being a part-time one while I worked as an engineer at Boeing.... I know I did a DAMN good job with bra fittings.


I AM sorry for not listening.


Not listening when you told me how depressed you are/were of the condition of your breasts. I'm sorry for convincing you that you did NOT need surgical augmentation. yes. I am sorry.

WHY? cause I GET IT NOW.

I now personally understand the effects of pregnancy, nursing, weight gain and loss, and the last bitch... TIME.


yes. I certainly get it now. I GET looking at yourself in a mirror, wondering when and where did the VAST PLAIN below your collarbone appeared, and just what are those droopy flesh-bags flanking it?

I now understand what it's like to look at yourself and SERIOUSLY have a mental debate whether lifting/enlarging the breasts would really be any better than chopping the remaining sacks off altogether.

Granted, I'm MORE SORRY for the lack of designers that cater to women like us, who deep down.. under all these 'mommy' layers... would just LOVE to wear a flouncy and cute sundress that doesn't cover our entire upper-body because of the bras we have to wear to keep previously mentioned sandbags from sliding off into the oblivion called our armpits.

but yeah... you ladies of Southcenter's Victoria's Secret???

my bad. I totally hear you now, and no longer will tell you you're crazy for wanting something else to go on 'up there'.

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.



.

It's a Wrap!

ok... not sure if any of you know this, but I LOVE a nicely wrapped present. I mean... don't we all? but really. the art of gift giving is one I embrace like a toilet while preggo.


wait.. that didn't sound good.


what I mean to say is that I LOVE being able to find, give and/or GET the right gift. from the off-the-wall to the sentimentally long-lasting... I cherish when the moons align and I find IT.


most of the time I'm a cheap.. sorry.. FRUGAL bitch. but I have also been known to be generous, too. but it's not even about money spent.. and anyone who has gotten something.. ANYTHING that was just SO special can attest to that.

to that point, I'm always on the lookout for the right gift for my loved ones.


today.. I found a small-scale moment of bliss when I came across a deal in my local hallmark store.


I had to go in there to get the 15+ cards for my students' upcoming First Holy Communion. and cause they're just students.. you KNOW I want to get the 99 cent jobbers. cause yeah.

ANYWAYS... while I was in there, I was thinking about trolling the wrapping paper and ribbons, cause you know.. school's year-end is coming up, and I like to have something OTHER than child-themed birthday wrap in my closet. Turns out they were having a promotion that if you purchase $5 worth of wrapping products, you could get a roll of their new self-adhesive wrap for free. ($4.99 dollar value.. sweet!)

so I picked out stuff I needed for teachers, upcoming babies, mother's day and some birthdays, and turns out I dropped $25. I casually mentioned that it would be nice if you got a free roll of the self-adhesive stuff for EVERY $5 you spent...

call it luck, but they gave it to me!!!


________________


um.. I interrupt this previously started post to tell you all that I am a predestined FOOL, people.


so.. earlier today.. well before I began this post, I whacked my left foot into a wall when getting rhena off to nap. I saw stars, I felt sensations of hot and cold.. and I coulda swore I broke a toe or two.


thinking I am a bit on the more dramatic side than not.. I let it go. I twittered something along the lines of wondering if you know if you've broken a toe or not.

fast forward a phone call, some groundwork in completing the paperwork necessary for getting our deck extended, and I decided to take a break and blog about the AWESOME deal I got on the wrapping paper (and later ribbons at target.. sorry to ruin the earlier story, but seriously.. this one wins out.)


ANYWAYS... I got to the point JUST before the solid line (again, sorry.. no links added yet.. I always do that last and now because I'm on to a different topic I'm not going back)


I thought.. OH! I'll take a picture of all the awesome wrapping paper I got!!!


so I go get the camera.. still grumbling cause my left foot has two toes that are feeling rather hurt.... and I begin to retrieve the wrapping paper from the paper/craft supply closet.

next thing I know.. holy ASSHATS, my foot is set ABLAZE IN PAIN as I hear a disgusting THUD.

in slow motion, I look down to see that a 10-lb barbell-shaped hand weight dropped from a shelf approximately 20 inches and LANDED ON MY TOE. My big toe. on my RIGHT FOOT.


people.. this shit HURT SO BAD.. I believe I stuck my face in a pile of laundry and yelped like a sick dog. a pile of DIRTY laundry. a pile of TROY'S dirty laundry. and didn't notice cause my HEART was trying to SNEAK OUT OF MY BIG TOE!!!!


my body temperature then began to escalate from raging hot to icy cold as I ass-dragged myself to the fridge for an ice pack, then to the tv room for the phone.

I called troy.


I was hurting so much that I didn't even notice that when I told him I thought I broke my toe that he actually had the nerve to ASK if he should come home. (truth be told.. the conversation is fuzzy to me right now.. troy was the one who came clean about this detail.)


once he got home, I drove myself (with my left foot... my 2 toes are hurting left foot, that is) to the doctors.


I could go into detail about how the toe by this point was varying shades of purple, completely swollen and BLEEDING... but I don't want this to overshadow the visual that I barely had half a nail on there to START with (see earlier post about close-toed shoes and losing my nail from the walk)


I WILL tell you, however, that when the doctor busted out a LIGHTER and a silver pokey thing.. I about threw up a little. yes. hot silver pokey thing ... IN my nail/flesh toe area.. to release the swelling. I may as well have been pinned on a ferry and had izzy with a drill in my head for crying out loud.


3 needles (real needles this time, not the hot pokers) later, a set of calipers (forceps? tweezers??) and one partial nail removed later, he then began to cut away some skin.


2 1/2 hours later... I am now home, my foot is all wrapped to the high heavens, and I should be resting.

I just had to share.


I'll fill in this post with links to my random streams of un-consciousness and italics and bolds and such later. I just gotta find me some pills for the pulsing going on in the toe now that the numbing shots are wearing off. as for the FIRST foot that I thought hurt... fuhgettaboutit! it's frigging MONEY compared to the toe. MONEY, I say!


happy tuesday folks!

I need a head check

seriously.


WHY why why why why whyyyyyyyyyy do I bother buying shit at old navy?


just bought these.. and I was like.. cute color, decent look, longer leg.. cheap price... yeah, ok.


uh... DIDN'T notice the 'twisted seam' business until I was home. which is 20 miles away from the store.


does anyone know what twisting a seam to the front of a leg looks like on a girl with an ass????

it looks bad. like I bought a defective pair of shorts bad. like.. your-momma-can't-sew-and-your-thighs-are-thick bad.


bleh. I just really need to get it into my head that I'm 35 years old, and I need to stop trying to buy clothes there for myself. cause driving 20 miles (one way!) to only spend $15 on a pair of shorts that I invariably don't have the opportunity to try on while IN the store, then will have to drive ANOTHER 40 mile round trip to get RID of ill-fitting shorts, or worse, get suckered into picking out ANOTHER pair of something that will not fit just ends up costing me 3x as much in gas as the price of the shorts in the first place.

grrrrr.


I need to shop elsewhere. seriously. cause stores like old navy and forever 21 may have cheap prices.. but again... it JUST doesn't cut the mustard. I need a store that's called "forever feeling younger than the age you really are but aware that you're a mom so you don't want to look inappropriate, either". Of course, it would help if Ann Taylor lowered their prices just a tad, too.

torture!

no.. not talking about bathing suit shopping. though that'll have to be done soon, and I am NOT looking forward to it.


nah... today's dish of bitch is Danny. love my lil moo-moo, but holy ass baggers, batman!!! the child is cutting like 100 molars, and he is NOT HAPPY.

well.. he IS, (except, of course, when he's NOT) but he's been chewing on everything in site like a dog with rabies. add in his inability to use real words, and well.. the grunts seem very fitting.

I do feel bad for the kid. especially during the day. he just looks so MISERABLE. but night time.... uggg. he just lays there crying.. no.. SOBBING.

I finally caved and gave him some tylenol. I'm not a big fan of medicating when not absolutely necessary... but I think it's time. hopefully they'll cut through soon and we'll get over the hump. cause damn.. I miss me some sleep. sleep is absolutely necessary.


also on the missing front and still sticking with the torture theme... I've been spying some of my favorite foodie blogs lately.

uhhh.. what in HELL am I thinking??? let's see.. give up meat, drinking, and all desserts for lent... oh, *I* know what to do!!! put on Food Network HD!!! look at foodie blogs!!!!

I've even been formulating a plan to make some home-made petit fours and truffles. issues. I might as well go take a bath in hot fudge with duct tape over my mouth. I mean.. seriously.

11 more days to go. I can do this.

A Letter To My Body

There's a little exercise going on over at BlogHer. and despite screwing up the link back to this post to show that I participated.. well.. whatever. I did it. see below.

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Dear Body -

Although you and I have never had an 'official' conversation before, it goes without saying that we have shared some exchanges over the years. It's no secret that you've overheard the things I've said about you, felt the icy glares and sighs of disgust when our eyes have met in the mirror, and I know that in my heart of hearts you've sensed the jealousy in my blood when I've looked at other women. Despite TOO many of the 35 years we've been acquainted being filled with animosity... I want to see if I can break the cycle. I really feel compelled to make amends for past misgivings and hopefully lay a groundwork that will allow for a better future together.

I've had a chip on your shoulder for a long long time. As a child, I didn't think your skin was colorful enough. I WILL give you credit for being so resilient at such a young age. not once did you blister when I dipped your fingers into melted waxes of different colors. Not once did you cop an attitude and stay the shade I applied to you with various not-as-magic-as-I-hoped-they-would-be-markers. Whatever I burned, broke, or tore... you healed, fused, and or re-grew. you kept. coming. back. seriously, your nickname should be Terminator.

As a teenager, I loathed you, but didn't say as much because angst was fashionable. Over the years I have chided to all that would hear that your misgivings allowed me to be the one with the magnetic personality. But let's not lie anymore, shall we? I wanted to be the pretty one. I wanted to be the tall one. The exotic looking one. SURE... you got me compliments that ranged from 'cute' to "really cute"... but let's face it. CUTE SUCKS. I already had an older brother who was smarter and did everything perfect.. screw being CUTE! OH, how I just for once wanted to be the 'hot' one. so yeah.. this whole short and cute thing? didn't really help your case.

You stepped up your game in my early twenties when you started releasing blood from places that shouldn't bleed. And this whole if-I-eat-seafood-I'm gonna-shit-and-puke-til-I-end-up-in-a-hospital-(again!!) thing you pulled??? touche, my comrade!! You really had me there for a few years when I was having to take 5 pills a day just to eat like a normal person. Looking back, though.. I think you could only agree with me when I say that your power play only made me dislike you that much more.

But ours is a relationship much more complex than that, isn't it? We had our moments, and even I can admit that not all of them were bad. For starters, I know we agree on music. THANK YOU for all those nights. I may have never been hot, but the music got us close to being sexy. So thanks.

And you know.... props to you for the whole child-bearing thing. I don't know WHY, I don't know HOW.. but for all the shit I put in, on, and through you... you gave ME the two greatest gifts I could have ever imagined. you humble me. Now, I'm not saying that you made it EASY by any way shape or form to RECEIVE such gifts... but wow. you really hooked me up. talk about a guilt trip.

So as I write you this letter today, I can honestly say that I don't hate you any more. I recognize all that you have done for me over the years, and I would officially like to apologize for the abuse. I really do appreciate you, Body. I am SO MUCH because of you, and there is no doubt that I value you. I DO want you around for a lot longer, and hope you'll stay with me.

But... (oh c'mon... you knew there'd be a but!!) I hope you'll understand when I tell you that I still don't like you. I WANT to like you.. I really do. I'm TRYING to like you. But you know. you see it in my eyes. and I wish I could just use something cliche like "it's not you, it's me" and be done with it and live happily ever after, but it IS you and you ARE me... so yeah. not so happily ever after.

But I am trying. and I will continue to try to find ways to like you, however small they may be. So please; stay resilient. ignore my defeatist comments and my eye rolls and pinches and grabs and suck ins and lift-ups. Stay with me, ok? cause as long as there's music, there's hope for us.

with appreciation,
me


PS... you know.. you could REALLY up your standings by letting me eat some seafood. just saying!!!

Jealous

so yesterday morning, I was taking a shower.

this is my time of day to let the hot water calm and soothe, as well as mentally plan my upcoming day.


for the most part, the kids have been agreeable for me to indulge in this hot-water therapy every day. I mean.. they're still running around like banshees... but they're kind enough not to get hurt and to stay within my proximity during the process.


so that morning... just as I was soaping up and looking at my body.. I caught a flash of a very naked rhena streaking through the bathroom.

sigh.


for once, I did not stress about my child's tendancy to strip her clothes and run 'free' as a regular part of playtime. I actually got a little jealous.


it's not that *I* want to run around with my girly bits exposed... but there was something about rhena's unabashed comfortability that made me wistful. When did I start to hate my body? and more importantly.. how can I keep that from happening to rhena?


I'd LIKE to think we're doing a good job.. cause this child LOVES herself. just ask her, and she'll volunteer how she IS the prettiest dancer and that God made her 'just perfect', and that she's LUCKY to have 'crazy hair' and so on and so on. So it would APPEAR that she has a good body image. So how come I can teach her to be that way, and not take a dose of my own medicine?


I seem to first remember hating myself in high school. It was somewhere in the vicinity of 12th grade. which is odd enough, because ALL through high school it was common knowledge that certain girls had eating disorders and/or took laxatives so they would be thinner. But despite knowing what OTHER girls put themselves through.. I was always fine with myself. I was ME. and I was fine with that.

But just when all was going fine.. settled into senior year, I was class vice president, captain of this and that team... college planned out.... something happened. In true high school fashion ONE girl got a bug up her ass about SOMETHING, and all hell broke loose. I became the target of one girl's hormonal fury, and next thing I knew, my whole world was up-side-down. girls that I had known since GRADE SCHOOL gave me icy stares and muttered "fat" under their breath as I would walk down my row to my seat. one girl, in particular, who was quite homely and had me by at least a good 20 pounds, snarled at me and gave me the treatment. That, I think, was the deepest cut. For all the times I included HER at the risk of being seen as 'uncool'... SHE was turning on me.


needless to say, I shut down. To this day, with the exception of maybe one or two friends... I still harbor an indifference for the people I went to high school with. That period in high school taught me the true value of friendship, and that people in high school were only in my life because of the coincidence of where they lived. By graduation, all the 'surface' appearances and behaviors were made nice and cleaned up. But I left SWMHS a hardened person.


in many ways I suppose it provided me with an invaluable education in life. the next 10-15 years allowed me to socialize, date, and be professional without too many people ever being able to get under my skin. well.. except maybe myself.


since then, I have never really been able to be thrilled with what my body looked like. sure.. I spent a FARE amount of time in college and in seattle dancing on speakers in night clubs, and wore very little clothing in the process. though wearing 'very little clothing' at a club in the 90s seems so PRUDE compared to some of the outfits I see worn on TV these days.


but back to my point. here in stepford and around charlotte, I see MANY women wearing outfits that flaunt and accentuate their bodies. I know of some hens here in the hood that insist on wearing clothes in a tighter size because they can. (not saying that I or anyone else in the free world think they SHOULD... just that they can and do.)

I guess it makes me a little jealous. jealous that they have the confidence or enough self love to not cringe when they look in the mirror. maybe they, too, have a secret self-loathing, but are better at faking it. I personally, am tired of faking it. I just want to feel good in the skin I'm in.

and it's not to say that I don't APPRECIATE the body I have. it successfully conceived and gave birth AND nourished two of my greatest accomplishments. my feet have walked miles for a cause very important to me. my legs have stood against and helped me walk away from ridiculous situations. my hands and arms have touched and held people that this world is truly better off for them being in it. but when I look in the mirror... I don't see that. or at least I FORGET to see that.


I was just reading another blog the other day about surrounding yourself with people who accentuate your life. and that idea is SO applicable in this scenerio, too.


Rhena is happy in her own skin because she is surrounded by people who love every inch of it. I continue to have issues with my outer shell because I choose to associate with people who place high value on external appearances. And have 'friends' who remind me that my arms will always be fat. of course.. I also have friends and family who love every inch of me... but I tend not to hear them as much as I hear the unhealthy 'friends'. I need to stop that. especially before rhena starts to follow suit.


and maybe now, after writing this out, I understand that I'm not jealous of rhena. I'm happy. happy for her, and happy that despite my own image-issues, she remains unscathed and accepts everyone and everything as just right in shape and size.

even me.

we are SO married

said the husband to the blogger one lazy afternoon----


"you know... one of these days I'm totally gonna blow your mind in bed..."


said the blogger to the husband ----


"what... you going to fall asleep to something OTHER than military channel?"




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I think we're going to skip anniversaries 4-24 and go straight to silver.

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.

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?

Nightcrawler

I am a shadow.

I creep around our house at all hours in the night. tending to this one, wiping up that one, kicking the other to stop snoring, and peeing like a stealth soldier.

for the past week... I have been getting up.. on average... about 6 times a night.

can I tell you how very fucking tired I am???


oh well. goes with the territory of trying to teach your baby that it's ok to sleep in a crib by himself in his own room. of COURSE... NEXT week, I'm going to try to start teaching him that he does NOT need to eat every hour and a half. I'm thinking this might be met with much resistance and for sure.. even more crying. perhaps this weekend will be a good time to stock up on coffee. And did I mention we are once again in the season of the nosebleed???? yeah.. rhena's been waking up every other night with a nose bleed. not sure if it's the onset of our warmer weather, the air conditioning, or maybe I need to add ANOTHER humidifier to her room??? poor baby, though. her bed's been looking like a murder scene.

On an obsessive-compulsive note, however.. I've become pretty neurotic about this whole damn diet thing, and I've taken to weighing myself at odd-hours of the night. cause you know... after waking up and shushing your babies.. why not check your weight???

issues, I know. but so far I'm down like 11 pounds, and I'm hoping to be down even more tomorrow when I weigh in. but the lack of sleep is not helping. at least when I'm asleep, I'm asleep. brain is off. this getting up in the middle of the night means my brain is awake, which means I start thinking about wonderful things like cheetos and fried chicken and chocolate and pies... yes.. a pie sounds SO good right now....

perhaps salivating burns calories??? I guess we'll find out tomorrow.

Closed for Rennovations

Happy New Year, everyone.


Here at the Fever, we've noticed a slow decline in the quality of the management as well as the overall appearance and frequency of blog posts. To serve you better, we've decided to take a temporary hiatus from the internet while we make some changes. Rest assured, all is well in real life; it's just needing a little more attention than it's been getting lately.

I will continue to visit and comment at other sites, and I will still post some pictures over at the photoblog.... but for now.... there will be no new content for at least the month of January.

Thanks for your patience during this time, and may you all be off to a wonderful 2007.

The week that wouldn't end

sometimes, especially when you're a raging post-partum bag of hormones, you have a bad day.


sometimes... those bad days are really only a few shitty events in the morning that set your mood to foul for the rest of the day. I seem to be a master of those kind of days. Even back in my swingin' single days... I can recall waking up late, slightly hungover, only to find that my period had unexpectedly arrived and ruined a super-cute pair of underwear, and... well... you get the point.

And now... well, now that I'm married and the parent of two other beings, I'm four times as likely to have shitty events, cause there's my OWN propencity to welcome misfortune, and as well as the likelihood of Troy, Rhena and/or Danny being in a bad mood and passing it on to me.


So with that in mind... trust me when I tell you this week doesn't seem like it will ever end. cause you know... SOMETIMES you get hit upside the head with shitty events for four days in a row.

and that's the catch you see. cause while I WANT this week to just be over already.. (cause trust me when I tell you this has been one humdinger of a week for me) yes, while I want the week to just be over, I then realize that we're one week closer to Christmas, and I think of all the things that aren't done yet and I start to breathe funny and sweat.

Come to think of it, since becoming pregnant, I've been spending a lot of time on that emotional fence. I often find myself just surviving by repeating the mantra of this only just being a phase, and how it shall too soon pass, whatever the "this" or 'it' may be.

and just as suddenly as our house can turn into an utter screaming chaos, I find myself wrapped in a moment of wonder and accord and I find myself wishing I could freeze time.

oh well. 'tis the season, right?

Displacement

so lately I've been feeling a bit out of whack.


Now that my 'secret' is out, I'm sure you're all "well, duh.. you're preggo, of COURSE you're out of whack"

but it's a little more than that. I mean, sure the hormonal imbalance has something to do with it, but the out-of-whackness seems to be creeping into all aspects of life.


I'm not quite in synch with my friends lately.... I'm even pretty much a week behind (if not more) in ALL of my e-mails. my girlfriends here in town are all off on diets and exercise regimes and one-night-out-for-drinks-and-a-movie together, and I'm here not wanting to go to the pool cause I'm pissed I spent $70 on a bathing suit that just doesn't fit me right yet.

perhaps it's the shift to summer, and my lack of scheduled events for the booger has left me with too many weeks of "uh... what should we do today" days. I do admit, I work better on a schedule. (please, if anyone goes back in time, do NOT tell my 20-something self I just said that. she would be so disappointed in me!)

so what to do, what to do. OBVIOUSLY, I need to find some shit to do. and it's not like there's a shortage of things that NEED to be done... just bleh. haven't felt like doing them.

(so BASICALLY, CARRIE..... you're saying that you have a ton of shit to do, don't feel like doing any of that shit, but are bitching and moaning cause you're bored and feel like there's nothing to do)

hmmm... when I put it THAT way..... perhaps I should have labeled this post as REGRESSION... as in back to teenage years, when I was always saying that I had a ton of shit to do, didn't feel like doing any of that shit, but bitched and moaned cause I was bored and felt like there was nothing to do.

on a productive note... I finally started reading again. started it last night, and am now on page 98. it's a far cry from my ability to devour a whole book in less than a day days... but it feels good to read again. we actually finally bought davinci code, too. perhaps after I tune up the brain with a little James Patterson, I'll push a little harder and go for the code.


One of my friends in NYC mentioned going to a pottery place with her son... I think I may do that with the boogie... you know... so I can have something scheduled.


of course there's always returning e-mails.


My cousin wrote to me last week, and I've been wracking my brain for the right words to use in replying to her... which is stupid, because she is like my sister, and I should just e-mail her, but instead I internalize and stress over the shit she's going through, and yet waste another day not talking to her. stupid stupid stupid. I really need to e-mail her.


I have another friend who e-mailed me almost a month ago. and yet another whom I haven't spoken to since december. Perhaps I'm ashamed at how long I've let myself go without contacting them. well, not perhaps.. that's a definite. I'm embarrassed. and it's not like I don't love these girls... I really do. yet. silence.

maybe talking to my long-time friends is what I DO need to set my ass straight and get me out of my out-of-whackiness. it's just hard knowing I'm going to have to start off each conversation with "I'm sorry I'm a distant bitch who hasn't called or written in forever; I swear I love you and have been thinking of you, but I'm a LAZY and distant bitch, and oh yeah, hormonal cause I'm 4 months pregnant, and by the way I'm sorry you had to find out about me being preggo through someone else or worse by reading it on a random blog post.. but I swear I do love you and miss you and have been wondering how you've been?"

oh well. bite the bullet, right?