Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Girlfriend's Guide: Lesson 17

I am dumb.

It's hard to admit that.

Smart is the thing I could always cling to.

But no.  It's time to come clean.

I. Am. Dumb..... as rocks.

So... I was in CPR/first aid training all day today.  It was fun and I'm all certified again, so that's a good thing.  When we got there, there were bagels and muffins and just drank the chai latte (semi sweet) I'd brought and didn't have a one.  For lunch pizza was brought in.  I went across the street and got some chili from Wendy's.  As soon as class was over I had to hustle over to the dentist because a crown came out yesterday and they were good enough to fit me in today.  Then when I was done at the dentist it was just about time for Teddy to be picked up from chorus so I ran over there to pick up him, Matt, and Kevin.  I dropped Kevin off and brought the other two home.

The plan for the evening was for Brad to take Teddy to his 5:00 baseball practice while I shoved some food into Matt (our neighbor and friend) and then took him to his 5:30 soccer practice as his parents needed some help.  Then go back and pick Jack up from school and get him some food and then get him to his football practice at 6:30.  Then Brad will come swap with me at Jack's practice and I'll take Teddy home when they get there.

So... I get home with the boys at 4:46 and I'm hungry.  I had that chili at noon and now I. AM. HUNGRY.  But I only have a few minutes and first I have to make a sandwich for Teddy - because did Brad have food ready for Teddy to eat in those few precious minutes.... uh, that would be a no.  I get Ted some food, I get Matt some food.  And I'm still HUNGRY!!  What can I have that's fast and easy?

A protein shake?  Yes!  That's easy.  That's fast!!  protein shake... protein shake... protein shake... I keep those Special K shakes in my fridge for just such emergencies... Great idea!!

Uuuh no.  That never even crossed my mind.

I know...   I'll just inhale some more quiche since that went so well yesterday (not!).  Yeah.... that's what I'll do.  Quick, pull it out, throw some on a plate, get it in the nuking machine... quick quick.  Time's a wasting!  Chop chop (as my Grandma used to say).  Get it out, grab a fork and dig in.  The first few bites shoveled in go just fine.  I'm so much more smart today than I was yesterday - today, I'm really, really chewing.  I'll show you, Hilda.  Snarf snarf snarf... barf barf barf. 

And that's not the worst of it.  Jesus Christ.  I run to the bathroom.  I throw up a couple of times, shaking my head the whole time.  What the hell was I thinking... uh, that would be not a God damn thing.  But then..... I threw up again and guess what... it went right up my nose too.  Yup.  Now that was pleasant.  And there it stuck.  Seriously,  In.  My.  Nose.  I finally had to blow my nose to get it out.  Have any of you ever blown quiche out of your nose?  Well I have.  I bet you all want to be my friend now, don't you?!!  And of course - then I had to go to football practice and smell and taste quiche the whole time.  I am seriously the single coolest person I know.  I know you are all completely jealous.  I hope some of my vast awesomeness will rub off on all of you!

Monday, March 28, 2011

Ranting about no control and the weather...

I was just sitting here reading some blogs and it seems all you wonderful bloggers are sparking me to write my own tale of woe... or something like that so....

First I read Gilly's post about being out of control - and let me tell you - I feel her!  I was having a good day - nothing exciting going on except I did notice that all day I was feeling a little bloated, but.. Tom's not coming for another week so... eh? whatevs.  I packed my lunch like I always do and I ate the things I brought and all was right with the world until... duh duh duh.  I got wrapped up in something later in the day and didn't eat my late afternoon snack like I usually do - but since I'd eaten lunch kind of late, I didn't think too much about it.  I got home and I was h.u.n.g.r.y.  Okay, no biggie, I made a yummy quiche last night - I'll heat that up lickity split and I'll be good to go.  Yeah well.. That worked until that quiche did not want to stay down.  I think there was a little too much lickity in my split.  But, again... eh, move on.  And then.  Then!  I remembered I had probably an avocado worth of that to die for guacamole made from the Dos Caminos recipe... yummmmooooo.  And chips too - have you guys eaten the multi grain tostitos - they're really, really yummy!!  Cuz after that quiche - I was still hungry, right...???     Not!

Then Brad realizes he put some frozen shrimp in the fridge a couple of days ago and he has to cook it.  So I set about figuring out what to do with it and we make a modified version of scampi which I certainly didn't have much of, but I did eat it.  Like a normal bandster's size.  But as this was after the quiche and the guacamole and the rest of the chips - well I'm not sure that counts for anything at all.  And then there was the ice cream.... And just plain.. holy shit.  The way I was eating (and feeling for that matter) is very hormonal which I'm pretty sure is what's at the root of this, but still - I'm totally annoyed.  This is one of those nights where I wonder what the band is doing in there.  I ate the quiche too fast and it yelled at me for that.  But it didn't mind the guacamole and chips (which I wouldn't expect it to), or the pasta and shrimp (which I would).  My cycle has been doing stupid things for a couple of months which is a whole other thing to be annoyed about.

And just to continue on with that thought - the band.  I do not ever want to be so tight that I have to seriously restrict what I can and can not eat.  But I would like the band to speak up and remind me it's there from time to time.  I want to be able to choose what I do, but I think a little tap on the shoulder (sometimes literally) is not too much to ask.  And while the band, what's her name?  Hilda I think.  And while Hilda did express her dislike for my inhaling the quiche - that was the last I heard of her.  Oh I even had a bite of pizza - which I totally had because I said to myself.  I could totally eat that pizza right now - even after all this other shit I've eaten - what's that about.  So I took a bite and I completely believe that I could have eaten five whole pieces, but I managed to stop after the one bite.  

Okay - now let's talk about the weather.  The lovely Amy W. sparked my thoughts on this matter, with her... we have to turn the AC on talk... Geesh.  It was forty-freakin-one degrees here today.  I live in MD.  It should be 60, but nooooo.  And while I can live with that and my heat on high and my fireplace roaring... I can't.. JUST FREAKIN CAN NOT live with watching my boys play their first 2 baseball games in 40 degree weather.  Last Friday night they both had games.  I was wearing jeans, thick wool socks, 2 long sleeve layers on top, my winter parka, gloves and a hat.  I was totally annoyed I didn't think to bring a scarf... and I WAS FUCKING FREEZING.  Seriously!  OMG - that's football weather - didn't anyone tell the powers that be that it's baseball season!  AND they both have games again this Friday and the high for that day is forty-fucking-one again.  Their games are from 5 to 8ish.  It's going to be 35 degrees by the time the games are over.

(right this very second my dog is burying himself under the covers of my bed to get warmer.)

The boys are going to be wearing even warmer layers under their uniforms this week!

I suppose as I keep reading blogs I could keep adding to this little rant - but I think I'll be done now.  I hope you all are plenty warm enough wherever you are - and that you're not overstuffing your poor little bodies!

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Jenny's been here - come see!!!

Can you stand it??? Look what Jenny did!!!  I'm so in love with the new look.  How cute is that bee and that turtle?  OMG.

It's sort of like spring on steroids!!!  So much fun!

If you haven't already, I totally recommend hiring Jenny to re-do your blog.  What a fun, fun process!

Thank you so much!!

Friday, March 25, 2011

BYOC Bring Your Own Crazy!!!

In case it has escaped your notice….it is indeed Friday. And with Friday comes BYOC…Bring Your Own Crazy. Five little questions you can paste into your blog and answer in order to get to know your fellow bloggers better and to give your blog brain a break.


Enjoy!

1. How do you handle criticism?

Um.... I internalize it and berate myself for hours/days/years.  AND I stuff it tightly in a small compartment that only has an "in" hole and no "out" hole.  Outwardly, I say the perfectly appropriate version of "thank you so much for pointing that out to me, I'll make sure I address that at once."  Inwardly.. I throw up a little in my mouth - but of course I keep the smile perfectly in tact.  You'd never know I'd been beaten to the core.  It's one of the things I'm working on - being more honest in my reactions about all manner of things.  I'm not sure criticism has made it to the top of that list yet, but hopefully it's moving up.  Cuz - I know, I swear I do - it just is what it is.  I'm not perfect, and I'm really, really okay with that.  I'm good (in theory) with people, well people who I know like me giving me critical feedback.  I think it's a natural part of life - 'think' being the important word in that sentence.  One day I hope to have my feelings match - or at least meet - what my brain knows.

2. Who had or has had the greatest impact on your life?

OMG.  OMG.  OMG.  This sucks.  I don't know how to answer this, much to my own horror.  This one sort of clearly points out the biggest problem with me - the one I'm trying to fix.  I. Don't. Let. People. In.  I don't let people touch me.  I'm so afraid of something that I stay off to myself, while doing a damn good job of hiding that fact.  At first I couldn't think of a single person I could write - but that's because I stand alone, damn it.  But then I thought - okay, don't be stupid (okay people you are walking with me through my deranged mind here) Who are those closest - you are not a frikkin' island.  Okay - Brad... He's been here for 20 years and he was the first one with the key to the door in the big wall that protects me and he knows not to use it unless it's an emergency.  What's his impact? OMG!  He has made me feel wanted and beautiful for the vast majority of those 20 years.  And he's been my safety net that has allowed me to try things I might have hidden from.  Holy Shit! (you have no idea what this is doing to me).  Jen - She's been around almost as long as Brad and she has a key too.  She was my first grown up friendship - really my first real friendship.  With give and take and honesty.  She's taught me that honesty isn't always easy, but it's always important, she's made me a better person. Camille - Camille doesn't have a key, because with Camille the door's wide open.  Camille has made it easier for me to open the door a little to the rest of the world. She makes me feel more sane.  Because I think my goal is to not need such a big door to hide behind - to be more a part of what's going on around me - that's a pretty damn big impact on me.

Of course, now that I've calmed down some from that freak show I just had there in that last paragraph - I think the real answer - over the long term - has to be my mom.  I am her in so many ways.  She's a freakin' goofball and I get that right from her.  Her mind is wide opened and she's given me that gift as well.  I've no doubt gotten all my fears from her as well.  She doesn't know about my band and I don't know if I'll ever tell her, but other than that little fact - she'd love this blog - vibrators and all. 




3. If you had a friend that spoke to you the way YOU speak to yourself – would you keep them as a friend and for how long?

Draz was in a serious mood today....

I actually don't think I speak to myself too badly.  I have this overwhelming belief that if you're not going to solve the problem then don't complain about it.  Sort of... put up or shut up.  So - there's no sense in telling myself things - there's no sense in complaining.  I don't believe in the negative - what's the point.  I have to lose weight - I'm not blind, but I've never said or thought - OMG you are such a cow - or whatever is similar.  OR You are such a bad mom.  I know I'm not perfect at it, but I also know I do okay.  Really - I hide any kind of mean self talk in one of those impenetrable boxes in the back of my brain.  I don't believe in the negative without a solution so shut the hell up already.  I don't tolerate it well from others so I don't tolerate it from myself either.  But in the spirit of the question - if someone was mean to me in the way people are mean to themselves - no fucking way would they have access to me for more than those few minutes that it took me to discover that fact.  End of story.



4. Do you think crying is a form or weakness or a form of strength?

I think it's both.  (I started to type "it's definitely strength" but then thought - fuck that it can be both).  I think it can absolutely be a form of weakness.  There are absolutely weak minded little nitwits out there that use tears as their method of getting their way.  Because they don't have the balls to say what they want or do what they want.  (I think question #2 has shored up my kiss ass cloak for the moment).  I have no use for people who use their tears for personal gain and I think those people are the epitome of weak.

But that said - in general - I think true, honest tears are a sign of strength.  I think it takes balls, the big and hairy kind to be able to cry when you feel it.  To be able to be vulnerable in any way - it takes trust and strength.  When I was young I was told I was too shy and too emotional so I stopped being both, or rather I covered up both aspects of myself.  People have a hard time believing I'm shy (except maybe Brad and Jen) to this day even though I think I do a much better job of being honest with myself and the world about how I'm feeling.  I think 35 years or so of masking it has made the physical actions automatic.  The words are always true now, but I think I walk into a room sometimes like I own it and couldn't be bothered by anything or anyone, when that isn't remotely true.  I imagine someday my actions will match the words and the feelings.  For probably 20 years, maybe longer, I wasn't capable of crying.  I didn't know how - or maybe I only knew how to stop myself.  In a sad movie, for instance, I would closely examine the exit signs if I felt even a little bit... something - I was going to type weepy, but it never, ever got that far - it was an automatic, knee-jerk response.  I would just shut the rest of the world out - completely missing that scene of the movie while I slowly traced each letter and light and bit of each exit sign in the room.  I had other tricks for other parts of life.

Eventually, sometime after I was married I started allowing myself to cry at hallmark commercials, or maxwell house soldier coming home from the war commercials.  And it grew from there - now I cry at ANYTHING passionate (well not sex kind of passionate) but a kid going to kindergarten - that look in their eyes, or in their mom's eyes.  I'm a puddle.  Any wedding - I don't need to know the people involved.  It's the emotion that gets me.  The truth of the emotion; the raw, honest, place that it comes from.  Maybe it's pure jealously as I never experienced any of those emotions during those moments of my own and now I'm making up for lost time by experiencing them along with every stranger I see.  I can't take the kids to school on the first day each year cuz I am just a puddle and I don't want to scare my kids.  OMG and then on the last day of the year in elementary school all the adults go outside and clap and cheer for all the students (and even typing that I'm totally tearing up).  All the kids are so proud of themselves (the first tears just slid down my cheeks) for being promoted to the next grade - everyone's so happy.  If at all possible, Brad goes to this for the same reason I skip the first day of school.  Poor Jackson would think his mama's all sad when he's all happy.

I think my kids think I'm a crier and I'm so so so okay with that, I can't stand it.  They've seen Brad cry a few times - like when he had to take our dog and put him down.  They know crying is just as valid as laughing and smiling.  It's just one of the many outlets to emotion that exist.  It has it's place.  And in my mind - that's just one sign that Brad and I are doing okay with our kids.



5. Repeat question: Summarize your week in blog land and in real life.

Real life - I'm completely and utterly dragging.  I have been all week long.  For the second month in a row I'm having something like a mini-period between my real normal periods (I know you don't want to know this, but eh...) It lasts longer and is much, much lighter - but I swear I think it's affecting the iron levels in my body - because the last time I felt like this it was because I was anemic (is that the right word).  Anyway, I left work early yesterday and after running some errands I fell unconscious at 7pm (7pm people!!) non of my family was even home yet from various places and I was asleep.  I slept straight through till 7am.  That's 12 hours.  In a row.  I'm going to go buy some iron today (assuming you can buy that) and I think I need to make an appt with a doctor.  It's probably time anyway.  And... the whole cycle thing - I think this must be the first sign of menopause, cuz I'm usually so damn regular.  I think I should be unhappy or something about this, but I'm just too tired.

Blog life - hmmmm.  People are so delightful in blogland.  I continue to feel so lucky to have met all of you.  The fact that I got to meet, in person, a bunch of you in NY on Sunday - well.. dude, I'm the bomb!  There aren't enough hours in the day to read all the blogs I want to, but I do try.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Could I be in denial???

Here I am, most of the way through and E.N.T.I.R.E. full sized plate full of egg noodles and cheese (and some other stuff).  Maybe it's not the salad that's kryptonite?  Maybe I just need a fill?  I've only had a couple of bites here and there of pasta since surgery - cuz I was told not to eat it as it will fill the pouch quickly.... um... not so much.

I sometimes struggle to eat yogurt and cottage cheese and chicken and... well anything really; soft or hard.  But, if I am in a mood to eat I seem to be able to get it down, whatever it may be and however much of it there is.  I made this plate and I said to myself - "hey dorko, did you forget you have a band?  There's no way you'll be able to eat all that."  And I replied "eh, I'll stop when my band tells me to"  Yeah well, it's mostly gone and the band has remained mute on this point.

I did just get up and throw the rest away - not because I couldn't eat the rest, but because I was grossed out by the concept of what I'd already eaten, let alone the rest.

I read Linda's post today about being motivated even more since she got back from the NY Brunch.  She totally rocks - but man, for me - I've been basically eating non stop since I got back.  I had that seriously to die for guacamole two nights in a row for dinner.  (and it's not like I skipped the chips).  And then the noodles tonight.  Good god, someone stop me!

But back to the denial.... I'm thinking that despite the fact that there are lots of times and lots of things I struggle with eating at any given time - the fact that I can clearly eat WAAAAY more than 1 cup (let alone 1/2 C) of food some of the time is a sign that I need a fill.  What do you all think?  Or is it just that the band is fickle?

Monday, March 21, 2011

Mini BOOBs?? (not me)... BOOBs 1.5??... NYC Brunch

Seriously!  Could that have been more fun?  I'm not sure it could have been - I guess it could have if those who couldn't make it from around the world had been there too.... I'll just have to wait for Chicago for that!



Though I was totally in denial about it, I was completely nervous about going.  I had hives on and off for all of last week, but completely pretended they were just odd groups of mysterious mosquito bites - not stress induced hives.  Nope.  Not me.



Bonnie, Linda, Angie, and I took the Mega bus up and despite the obscene hour had a perfectly lovely trip up.  We were a little early and wasted some time getting coffee and walking up and down the street in the sun until the restaurant opened.  AND THEN!! Guess what?  They can't serve alcohol in NYC before noon.  I don't know if that's just on Sunday or what.  But what??? they stop serving at I'm guessing 4 or 5 am and then must wait till noon.  Totally funny to me. (thought definitely not at that moment as I seriously wanted a drink.)

We had some seriously yummy guacamole and chips, cuz we're all seriously health conscious like that!  I was telling my friend Camille about the guac and she immediately Googled it (as she is the undisputed Google queen) and this link is a chef at Dos Caminos talking about making it and the recipe is as follows:

* 2 tablespoons finely chopped cilantro leaves
* 2 teaspoons finely chopped white onion
* 2 teaspoons minced jalapeno or Serrano chilies, seeds and membranes removed, if desired
* 1/2 teaspoon Kosher salt
* 2 large ripe avocados, preferably California Haas, peeled and seeded
* 2 tablespoons cored, seeded, and finely chopped plum tomatoes (1 small tomato)
* 2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lime juice

This is a bad picture of the beautiful Vanessa reaching for their seriously yummy guacomole.

I had to enlarge to the nth degree as this picture was really of a bunch of people in the bar with Vanessa way in the back - but it was the only one with their guac in it and it was seriously good!

Guess what I had for dinner tonight!!!!!


It was so easy to make and so so so so good!!!

I was lucky enough to be sitting with Bonnie on my right and Gilly on my left and Carmen and Jen across from me with Linda and then Joey on the other side of Jen.  Sooo much fun!!  It's not like I wasn't already madly in love with all these women, but now... seriously... I can't stand it.  They were all just exactly as I thought they'd be and I had just so much fun laughing with all of them.  The connection was immediate as if we're all old friends.


At one point Joey was saying that it was sort of like meeting celebrities - as in you've seen their pictures and know what they look like and you know all this info about them - like you were on the lookout for some other famous bandy people. It's totally true. I swear I totally came to New York so I could be in the presence of the celebrities Joey and Gilly and all those other wonderful woman who's journeys I've been following. And I got to meet several others who's journeys I'll soon be catching up on!


Speaking of celebrities...


After brunch we went back up to the bar we saw Lindsay Lohan.  She was just standing there texting.  Susan just leaned over and asked.. Excuse me, are you Lindsay Lohan?  Lindsay totally denied it, but I've decided to believe it was really her and she just didn't want to tell us and really, that's okay right?  She totally deserves privacy and anonymity in her life... she's such a sweet girl.


On the drive home, poor Linda had to endure my singing as I was in a totally mellow mood and just had to listen to some Zach Brown band (and a little Steel Magnolia's too).


I didn't get to spend time with everyone, but everyone that I did get to talk to was - to a person - absolutely delightful. Warm, real, generous, open, funny-as-shit and just plain lovely!  You know, everyone says how women are these mean catty bitches - and I'm here to tell you (though I know you already know) that this community is filled with nothing but support and praise.  What a lucky girl I am!

 
And okay - this last picture of me and Carmen was taken on my phone just as we were leaving.  I was at my drunkest and have no idea who took it - it was a total surprise - I was so excited - when I got home and found it there as I was showing Brad the pictures.  I've also determined that, clearly, I need to have all my pictures taken when drunk because while Carmen is as beautiful as she always is - I look great in this picture - all tan and whatnot when I'm really white as a ghost.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Thanks!!!

To whoever it was that taught me to keep ziploc bags and napkins in my car. 'nuf said.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Friday, March 18, 2011

B.Y.O.C. Bring Your Own Crazy!!!

It’s BYOC Friday – Bring Your Own Crazy! Five little questions – some funny, some serious – that you can copy and paste to your blog. We do this in an effort to get to know each other better and to give our blogging brains a break! Enjoy!


Side note: Some of the questions today or upcoming may be repeats BUT some newbies have asked that I ask them so if you don’t mind re-answering that’d be great for all the new bloggers who are getting to know us “oldies”!

1. Regardless of what stage you are in - in your weight loss, get healthy journey – do you still consider yourself “fat”? Was there a point when you stopped feeling that way?

This is a hard one for me because I think the word fat has such negative conotations that I've pretty much banished the word from my brain.  It makes me cringe to hear it whether someone is talking about a fat little kitten, or if it comes up while playing catch phrase "the opposite of thin".  So, I would never use that word to describe another human including me.  I do think I'm overweight and in fact I am, so I'm not sure how helpful that is.  Perhaps when I'm closer to goal I struggle with thinking I'm still overweight when I'm really not (or not much) we'll see.
2. Tell us about your first kiss.

It was in the back seat of my friend's boyfriend's car while we were driving home from the skating rink (the first date).  I was 13 in the 7th grade and my friend was 15 in the 9th grade and her boyfriend and this guy who I was with were both 16 in the 10th grade.  (can you imagine letting your 13 year old daughter go out with a 16 year old boy).  I remember the very first contact was with his mouth wide opened and my mouth compltely closed (as I didn't have the slightest clue what the hell he was doing) so it was like he was eating my mouth.  But I figured it out pretty quickly and there we were making out in the back of the car with these other people in the front seat.  I was completely mortified, but had no idea how to make the situation stop.  He wasn't being agressive, I just didn't know how to be assertive.

As a side note - I told my parents that I had a date and brought him home to meet them because I thought that's what you were supposed to do (I didn't really have rules when I was growing up I just sort of did what I thought you were supposed to do)  Anyway, of course they didn't love the idea that I was going out with a boy who was 3  years older than me, though they didn't tell me not to, just that I couldn't be alone in a car with him.  But - it was an interaction that I didn't like.  So the very next boy I introduced them to was my husband when I was 24 years old and he was 21.  I'm pretty sure that my mom, to this day, believes that I only went out with two boys in my whole life.  I've never told her otherwise.
3. Describe your parenting style (either current or what you hope to do or what you would do if you ever had kids)?

I call it gentle parenting.  I have friends who from the moment their kids were born they have been enforcing the rules.  Sit this way, act that way, do this, don't do that (and I'm not talking about in any kind of negative way - just the way I see lots of people do it - and they end up with lovely polite children).  Their goals are to be commended and I want my kids to end up the same way, with the same rules and knowledge.  But I have a bit of hippy in me.  My biggest wish growing up was to live on a comune - I still want to.  I sort of see me as a border collie herding my kids in the right direction - towards the small end of a funnel - sort of pushing them closer and closer into where I want them to be - but we didn't start that way.  I am really big on "fly and be free" I want the 'who they are meant to be' to come through loud and clear.

I'm not sure it was the right choice - we'll just have to see.  It's certainly true that my first born is ready willing and able to question authority and I love that, though we're still working on when that's not a smart idea.  Of course my second born is naturally worried and shy and he struggles with just being himself because he's afraid - mind you, he's much better at following all the rules society gives... I just don't know. 

I'm big on being polite and nice and my older one struggles with that right now as he's entering his teenage years.  All this said - I'm so much more tough than my parents ever were.  There are rules and consequences and lines in the sand they'd better damn well not look at much less cross..... Who knows.  We'll all see how we did at some point in the future.
4. How would your best friend describe you?



Hmmmm.  I'd say I'm a lucky girl as I have two.  There's the one I've known for many, many years - who was with me through depression and marriage and children all the ups and downs of life and I know without a doubt I could tell her anything and she'd always have my back and she'd always tell me the truth no matter how hard - this is Jen.  Jen would say... I'm loyal and smart and tough and principled and fun to play with.  She's who I'm going to JazzFest with.  We will have lots of fun and I am totally hoping I'll get to meet and play with Tessie Rose and her lovely hubby.

Then there's Camille.  I've only known Camille for a few years and we've never met in person.  I met her through a kinky board we both belonged to once upon a time.  We have an IM window opened every day, most of the time.  We talk throughout every day - a little of this and a little of that.  She knows me so completely it's amazing.  There isn't anything we haven't talked about - seriously anything - big, small, personal, world views - whatever.  If she didn't read here I'd tell you what she told me yesterday and you'd know just how much we share - LOL.  On the face of it we couldn't be more different and if we'd come across each other in person - we wouldn't have done more than be polite to each other.  But at the core of who we are - we sync beautifully and without the internet I'd have completely missed that - and that would have been tragic.  So.. Camille would say... (and she'll correct me if I'm wrong) hmmm.. I'm funny, and smart, and a smart ass.

I just asked Camille and this is what she said: "inquisitive, caring, funny, intelligent, determined, insightful about others (not always herself lol), and charming"  Hmmm. Very interesting.


5. Repeat question: Summarize your week in blog land and in real life.

In real life - The madness has started.  We had four baseball practices and one soccer practice this week and that's just the very tip of the iceberg.   Soon all four sports will be in full swing and we won't get a break till school's out - of coures that's when summer stuff starts, but whatever.  Today it's 75 degrees and I'm driving around with my top down and it's just hard to be too upset about much when that's the case!

In blogland - I feel totally inept at keeping up.  I try and try and try and completely fail, though I think I'm finding a rhythm that is sustainable. 

And Jenny is going around sprucing up everyone's blog - she's just flat out amazing.  That's really all I have to say on that point!

Thursday, March 17, 2011

'I'm listening' turned me into 'I'm thinking' - he's a MOB

So... 'I'm listening' over at Married to the Band (who has an spectacular new blog look thanks to the amazing Jenny) asked a question that I found very intersting and really tough too...

He was talking about how Tessie Rose blogged about being so much happier now than she was in a picture from a year ago.  He questioned that as they’d been just as happily married then as they are now.  And …“She explained that the unhappiness was with herself and for the longest time it caused her to question most of the affection and love I had for her. Looking back....that really made sense...pretty enlightening information for me. Theresa can get up in front of a room and do a standup routine but wasn't self confident enough to truly accept things in a normal relationship as they were. Those days are gone. But what if you gained all the weight back now but the relationship didn't change? Would you revert back?“

That gave me pause

.
.
.
(that was me pausing)

I can only answer that as me – the person not quite half way to my weight goal.  The me who’s been overweight forever.  And I say – yes, I’d revert right back.  I’ve lost weight before, felt good about myself and confident about my place in the world (hoooo now – let’s not get carried away!)  Okay, more confident about my worth (that’s better).  But if I lose all the weight I want to and blossom even more fully into the person I know I am underneath all this stuff – and work out all my issues with all my relationships and am good and confident and happy about it all.  (understanding the normal ups and downs of life still fully exist.)  And then…. I gain it all back. Well, after I’d kill myself.  I’d hate myself.  I just would.  Not only would I have the comfortable hate (or at least dislike and strongly disapprove) of myself I’ve known and loved (or rather loathed) all these many years – but I’d have the added pure fires of hell hatred at what a spectacular failure I am.  I’m smart and if I know I’m a failure and I know I’m unworthy of this or that, and I know you’re smart – well of course I’d believe that you’d know I was a failure and unworthy too.  I could easily see myself believing those around me were just staying with me cuz they felt stuck or maybe just felt a profound sense of pity and didn't want to hit a girl when she was already so obviously down or however unworthy or icky I was didn’t outweigh every one of the feelings they might have.  It was close, sure, but maybe the scale tipped a little bit to my side (all puns intended).  But then I’d feel badly that they had to settle for something so unworthy… yadda yadda yadda.

So… my question is… Will that thinking ever change?

I’m not planning on gaining the weight back.  Of course I wasn’t planning on it before either.  But I have this thing now and I truly believe it’s gonna help me maintain whatever weight I lose.  So… Once I’m in a truly comfortable place – and in all honesty I’m not that far right now mentally – will I get to a place where I’m so confident that I’m insulated from those kinds of thoughts?  I just don’t know.  I’ve heard many of you talk about having to get your mind to catch up with your body – I wonder if it happens?  Or happens all the way?

I’ve talked about how my marriage is not completely smooth right now but these next comments don’t have a single thing to do with that…

My husband has a huge ego.  I don’t know if it’s a male thing or just a Brad thing, but it’s hilarious.  He’s the first to admit it - and quite proudly too.  He will say, quite often.. I’m the best fucking AE in the world.  That’s his title and when he’s had a particularly good conversation with a customer, there’s no doubt that’s the first thing he’ll say.  We all roll our eyes.  Yes dear, we know.  But he could gain 300 lbs and while he’d be mad at himself, it would just not affect how worthy or loveable he believed himself to be.  Maybe there is a number over which that’s not true, but you get my point.  What I’m trying to say is – I don’t think he’d ever have the feelings I described above.  Ever.  No matter what he saw in the mirror. 

He’s put on weight in the last decade or so, but maybe it’s because he didn’t grow up that way?  Or is it a societal man/woman thing where the value on appearance is so much higher for women than men?

I realize I’m rambling a bit here – but… what do you think about this stuff??

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

A PSA about SPAM

So, I happily and thankfully got rid of the word verification thingy on my comments.  Which was only there cuz it comes defaulted that way and I never really thought about it as I'm not posting a lot of comments on my own blog.  I did that three nights ago.  Today I got porn spam in my comments for the first time.

It showed up in my email as if it were a comment to the Salads are kryptonite post, though it doesn't show up in the comments.  I don't care and am not planning on putting the word thing back unless I start getting it constantly and it gets on my nerves to have to delete them constantly - but I just thought I should pass along my experience.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Salads are my kryptonite - WTF

First of all, my husband was appalled that I asked him to spell kryptonite for me.  As I've mentioned I'm a terrible speller and he's the rock star of spelling - but seriously - he's the comic book geek in the family (and well, so maybe are my kids - at least the older one) why the hell should I know how to spell the made up shit that oogs out Superman?  (yes I do know it's more than oogs out, but still).  I do know that the Green Lantern can't handle the color yellow - I think I should totally get some points for that.

Anyway.  I think I've just determined that I seriously can not eat salads.  They are like a gateway drug for me.    Whenever I eat a salad it does some sort of magic thing to my band - it sort of removes it completely.  It was immediately after eating a salad (a huge one) that I first tried pizza (the one and only time I have since I got the band) and I ate three frickin' pieces of regular crust Papa John's pizza - after a big salad with chicken on top.  What the fuck?  Then another time I had a salad followed by fajitas.  Yes that word was plural.  There are days or times of every day that I struggle getting cottage cheese or yogurt down and then I eat a salad and I could eat a small horse - shit I could probably eat a large horse.  I think ever since the pizza incident I've sort of suspected this was true but I've tried to keep it hush hush even from myself (I do a lot of that). 

Self, I'd say, it's good to eat salads.  You are eating too much protein and not enough green stuff.  Go... have a salad.  If there was a small little tiny compartment of me thinking... (while rubbing my hands together and grinning evilly) hmmmmm maybe then, I'll get to eat something else interesting that I'm not normally able to eat... well.. that's besides the point, right?  So - part of my subconscious avoids salads for just this reason and part of my subconsious says - salads are good salads are good salads are good.  everyone's doing it.  go on, it'll be alright.

But I'm here to say publicly... I.  Can.  Not.  Eat.  Salads.

Today I ate a salad at lunch.  It wasn't planned, just sort of happened that way.  It was a yummy Cobb salad with Gorgonzola which is so how they should always be made.  And since then... Oh my holy fucking God.  Mother Mary full of Grace and all that shit.  (Okay I'm not catholic and I really hope I'm not offending anyone but Jesus Christ!)  I had the egg substitute and sauteed onions I'd brought for lunch in its nice 1/2 cup container, some chocolate covered soy nuts.... right there is way more than I would normally eat... oh wait.. and a small piece of a french baguette with butter...   AND it took a whole hell of a lot to stop eating at that point.... But then I got home.  (hanging head in shame)  I've had three, count them three pieces of raisin bread, toasted with butter.  This is the first time I've even tried a piece of bread since surgery, (not counting the baguette this afternoon which was really the first time) there's no way I could eat it normally.  An entire slab of eel (which is my very favorite food and I've not had any sushi as I'm afraid of the rice.  But just eel....  I remembered I had some in my freezer - SCORE!  Some Oreos.  A few bites of Jackson's mac n' cheese (not normally something I could eat).  That could be it.  AND I could totally still eat.  It's like I'm on vacation or something - I have NO restriction at all after eating a salad and clearly my little pea of a brain thinks - Party On folks!  I'm full - but it's normal (or old normal) full.  Like my band hasn't said a god damned thing.  I'm fairly sure it's taken the afternoon off.

So.. to repeat.  No fucking salads for me.  Ever.  If I never eat anything green again - I will survive.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

What's the band give you?

I struggle with this.  I'm analytical by nature; just plain curious too.  I want to understand things.  I want to really figure out how things work.

I've not experienced the band's G-Spot (from Sandy Lee a cross between the Green zone and the sweet spot).  I believe it exists.  I'm not sure I believe it exists for everyone - that answer is yet to be discovered.  When I was too tight for about a week a few months ago - I truly didn't think of food - it just wasn't on my radar, not even a little bit.  It was very, very odd and it's why I believe it exists.  (Did I mention I'm a doubting Thomas too or in a more positive light an experiential learner).  However during that time, I really struggled getting water down before early afternoon so it wasn't something I could sustain and thus not any kind of G-Spot.  But, I've still managed to lose 45 lbs (I'm going with my ticker here, damn it) and I'm feeling pretty confident with some hiccups here and there, it's gone for good.

I struggle every day with same food demons I have struggled with my entire life.  Nothing's changed about that.  Maybe it will some day, maybe it won't.  I've been toying around with the idea of therapy for a variety of reasons and the fact that I believe concretely that my weight is 100% rooted in mental issues and not in eating issues is certainly one of them.  But the point to my post is... what is the band giving me?  What about the band has me losing some weight and feeling confident about it?

And for me - I think the band does not help me lose weight.  I think the band helps me not gain weight.

I truly believe that fat people on the whole are more nutritionally educated then the general population.  We've read zillions of books, listened to lots of people, read articles, tried a variety of things for a variety of reasons.  So it's not as if we didn't know what we should do.  How we should've eaten, how often, what portion sizes we should have had.  How often to exercise, what kinds we should do.  What things help metabolism, yadda, yadda, yadda.  It's the actually doing it consistently, day in and day out - that is where we got/get hung up.  For me it was always about self sabotage - as soon as I'd be in a good sustainable groove my evil self would notice and quickly run to the kitchen an eat a bagel with butter and cream cheese - or maybe two.   If I could find some chips and cheese and make a plate of nachos as well, well all the better.  The only times I ever ate nachos or bagels was during these times, well I suppose I've eaten a few bagels in my life for breakfast, but very few and very far between.   But as soon as I inhaled all that food, phew, I'd go right back to eating the sensible, good, real, healthy food that I truly enjoy.

I could honestly say that for the most part - my breakfast, lunch, and dinners were on the whole good healthy things - and have been for years.  Things that I could eat for the rest of my life at a perfectly normal weight.  It was just the in between times - the times when I wasn't hungry, but afraid of succeeding that kept me way overweight.  (It's that whole fear of succeeding thing that is rattling around thinking about therapy).  But... The band doesn't let me eat a plate full of hastily created nachos (though just typing this is making me think I should give it a try god damn it) or two quick bagels (or really two quick anything).  So - I can eat how I normally eat.  Relatively well - even better I think as there was a period after the Johns Hopkins program where I was eating a lot of protein bars and I've definitely gotten out of that habit.  But fear or no - I can't eat the things that I used when my evil side needed to step up and freakin say - no way Jose! to getting to my goals.  I can still eat a bunch of shit when I'm afraid - melted chocolate and peanut butter are no match for the band - but it's just not the same.  The band keeps the sabotage from really, truly working.  It keeps my progress excruciatingly slow, but it doesn't reverse it - and that's a very beautiful thing.  I sort of feel like I'm going to hop from one good willpower place a place where in my past life I would have lost a bunch of weight (and I will in my current life too) to just sustaining (especially if I keep my weights posted publicly) when in the past life I would have gained and in the current life I'll just maintain.  And I think I'm more than okay with that.  If at some point I discover that I too can experience this mythic G-spot - well maybe that will play a role too.

So... I'm not sure what the real point of this is - other than I guess I wonder, what does the band give to you?

Weigh in day

First my weigh ins.  I didn't really realize I'd skipped two weeks of weigh ins.  I think that's not a good thing for me.  I truly think the accountability of weighing in here publicly is an important piece of the puzzle for me.  It isn't always true, as sometimes I'm just an airhead, but often if I don't lay it out there publicly it's because I'm not doing well.  And as we all know too well it's just damn easy to pile one bad day onto another and one bad week onto another, etc. 

In this case - hiding was definitely the reason for the first skipped one as I'd gained roughly 1 million pounds in a one week period and refused to even get on the scale.  I did get on for the start of the spring challenge on 3/6 and I weighed in at a whopping 197.4.  And I'd been below 190 the week before.  Oops.  Some of that was no doubt water weight as TOM came to visit the very same day, but certainly not all of it.  Then I decided to move my weigh in day to coincide with the challenge weigh in - so today's weigh in was 194.2.  Still too much - but seriously not bad considering how I ate after Jack was so damn bloody earlier in the week. 

Onward and updownward!

Saturday, March 12, 2011

B.Y.O.C. The PG version...

For those of you who felt compelled to skip the XXX rated BYOC from yesterday - here's Drazil's normal PG rated version so everyone can participate.


Enjoy!

1. If you were a salad, what kind of dressing would you want on you?

Avocado ranch (which I've recently discovered from Uno's which they use on their cobb salad - AND they use Gorgonzola cheese instead of blue cheese - which in my opinion has always been the problem with the Cobb Salad - I find blue cheese icky.)  It's tangy and sweet and spicy - just like me - LOLOL.

2. What is your quirkiest habit and how long have you had it?

hmmmm.  Well I sing constantly.  In the aisles at the grocery store, at my desk at work, in all kinds of inopportune moments - any time, any place, I don't care - really I don't notice - who's listening.  I don't have a great voice - well it's okay.  I can carry a tune, people generally know what song I'm trying to sing - but it's not that I'm singing to showcase this amazing voice - I just don't even realize I'm doing it.  My mom does it too and her parents told her that if she sung at the dinner table she would wet the bed hoping to keep her quiet during dinner - it apparently didn't work and she discovered they were liars.

3. If I looked in your fridge, what’s the first thing I’d see?

Right at this moment you'd see MOUNDS of leftovers.  Holy shit we did not plan our food consumption well this week at all.  With Jack's run to the ER and guests visiting and Brad's penchant for making WAY too much chicken right before he travels and can't eat the leftovers.  It's a little frightening and embarrassing.  I just see the money that will be wasted when some of it ends up in the trash.

4. Who or what inspires you and why?

Man!  Jeez Draz - this is the kind of question I was trying to hide from to begin with.  I don't know.  I think lately (as in the past few years) it's been me.  I am doing my best lately to be the best me I can be.  The truest me.  I'm not completely successful yet but this is after a lifetime of acting like what I believed I was supposed to be in whatever situation I was in - there was no me - there was only the expected outcome.  It took a long time to peel away enough layers to be able to figure out who I am - but I think I'm getting better at that one.  I spent a lot of time rebelling against all the parts of me that were the things people saw the quickest - like doing the opposite of that - but then I was able to calm down and embrace the truth in me of those parts.  Okay - so see.... this is why these questions throw me - I go all deep.

Certainly my kids do too - as it's very important to me that they grow up to be who they are and not what me or anyone else thinks they should be and that inspires me every day to work hard to give them a good model for that.

5. Repeat question. Summarize your week in blogland and in real life.

I answered this on the “naughty” BYOC – it's all good!

Friday, March 11, 2011

B.Y.O.C. - The XXX rated version...

Apparently I and a few of Drazil's other followers were feeling a little sassy, and maybe a little vulnerable at some of her more serious questions and so I they suggested some other less vulnerable but perhaps a bit more racey questions.

So these questions are not from Drazil, but are from me and a few of her other followers.  So today, we’re going to spice things up a bit in the BYOC world…courtesy of some suggested questions from me and Drazil's followers.

One of her followers (me) said her questions were too hard on her brain, too serious...and she needed more "distracting, fun" questions.  And it turns out she's not the only one with questions like these - so today...I'm obliging them both.
That’s her disclaimer – these questions are not hers. They came from multiple perverted followers and who is she to say no when asked so nicely to put them out there?

Obviously – very personal. Obviously – probably borderline offensive for many. For that, I apologize. And obviously, you don’t have to answer these….and I realize many of you with public blogs with family readers aren't going to be able to.  You can answer in comments below if you'd like.

Oh it’s gonna be a fun Friday here in blogland, don’t you think?

Anyone wanna guess how many followers I’ll lose today?Here we go.

BYOC – Bring Your Own Crazy - *usually* 5 harmless questions we answer to get to know each other better. (today we’re gonna get to know each other better than our own mothers do I’m afraid) Also used as a break for your blogging brain. Copy and paste if you dare.

Try to Enjoy!

Please someone answer these so I'm not the only one!

1. What is your favorite position for sex? (I just went back to my email to Draz and this is from me - sigh)

Okay, I didn't really think she'd ever in a million years actually use these - geesh.  LOLOL.  But okay, if she can do it, I absolutely can too - and as I mentioned in my previous post (nice timing Draz) - I'm all for open sex communication.

So, favorite position.... hmmm...  I have a particular affinity for doggie style.  I am very sort of take charge in my normal every day life - kind of right out there - and I like very much to not be in charge in the bedroom (unless I'm in the mood for that) and doggie style, in addition to feeling really good also feels a little more submissive to me.  But there are few things I don't like... Well I don't like 69 at all.  I absolutely want to be able to concentrate on one or the other and I just can't when we're doing that.

2. How many orgasms have you had in a 24 hour period? - yeah okay this was mine too.

(and yes I owe you one Drazil)

I'm not sure I have any idea.  (clearly I didn't think this through when I originally suggested it).  I don't think I've ever had more than two, maybe three in one single... 'encounter'.  And we've certainly had multiple encounters in a given 24  hour period.  hmmmm.  My best guess would be 8, but it's really a guess.  I'm not so much a counter as an enjoyer - maybe it's my inability to do basic math in my head - add in an orgasmic state and jesus, I'm a screaming, blathering idiot.


3. Do you like to be spanked? (yup, mine too)

And holy jesus this is a hard one for me to answer. (this definitely doesn't fit into the less serious more distracting kind of questions).  Okay..... here I go...  I very much like the idea of spanking.  I like the idea of submission, of being submissive.  Of someone else being in charge.  Of rules and of consequences.  I also can't handle if someone tells me what to do - so there's a little problem with the previous comments.  I know people who use spanking (as in discipline) as an intregal part of their marriage dynamic with extremely successful results (as in extreme connection and love and respect).  I know people who use spanking with or without role playing in the bedroom with lots of fun and orgasmic results.  We've dabbled with one type and not the other and I'm interesting in exploring it further.


4. Do you think it’s ever okay to fake an orgasm – and when/why? (for real – this is a serious ? a follower wants to know) (phew - finally not one of my questions)

• Drazil's follower is asking this in the situation where the woman is possibly suffering from depression and her husband really really really tries and she just isn’t feeling it and so she fakes it – but then feels guilty. She wondered if any other women did this or thought it was okay?

To answer the question - yes, I think it's absolutely okay to fake an O.  Of course it is.  If doing so will bring less stress, will make you or someone else happy, will bring an end to something you'd rather not do even though you were willing - eh... whatever.  However - if the cost to you of faking it is bad - as it sounds like it is for Draz's follower, then no way!  If someone is thinking they may be sliding into the the firey pits of Hell depression and they are doing soemthing that makes them guilty - please stop doing that - you don't need that too.  You need all  your energy to slow and stop your slide. 

In my wilder days I absolutely faked a few here or there, when I was having fun, but the guy was just a guy who was young and clueless and thought pump pump pump and I'd get there.  I didn't care enough to educate - that's a lie - I was way too self concious and didn't want to draw any more attention to me to ever suggest how to do it differently - then I'd be on the hook to perform.  Sex was never intamacy for me - it was fun and to have those kinds of conversations would be way way way too intimate for me.

I think I may have once faked it with Brad when I was just in a mood and had decided mid way through that I wanted to be done and in that instance it was easier to fake it so he'd then finish (always ladies first here) and move on.  But there wasn't even a little tiny bit of guilt with that.  Eh.. He can absolutely do it for me, I can do it myslef.  We've been having sex for 20 years and eh - I just figured that one time who cares.  To have not done it then would have been more of a pain in the ass and more energy then I wanted to expend - again this was about my mood.  But there have certainly been times when I just didn't feel like 'going for it' and I've absolutely told him and that's no big deal.  He'll double and triple check that I'm good - and I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true - and we both enjoy ourselves.  It's not like sex without orgasm is a bad thing, it still feels good. 

I would say to her follower that if faking it is causing her stress or guilt, she needs to tell her husband.  If you want to keep having sex - if the intimacy is a comforting thing - or just cuz it feels good - or whatever the reason - then tell him that too.  If you need a break because you feel like you're on stage and have to perform then tell him that.  He's your husband, not just some guy you picked up.  I urge you to talk to him.


5. Thank God those are done. Repeat question #5. Summarize your week in blogland and in real life.

Blog land has been good.  I feel like I've had a little more time to begin to catch up, though I'm not completely there yet - but it feels like I'm back in town if that makes any sense and that's really fun.  Real life has been a mixed bag - if you read earlier this week you saw that my baby had to get 14 stitches in his face and that was awful!  But Brad and I are connecting more and more in really good ways and that's a truly beautiful thing.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Tonight's brain farts...



I'm totally stealing from Tessie Rose and Kagead... so sue me.

  • I totally want to do a whole post using the authentication words you get when commenting on a blog post.  Today's favorite is synfele - (Latin-to sin with feeling)  Or maybe just start dropping them in here and there - maybe with a little index at the bottom with my definitions for them included....  (I even kept a word document going for a while listing them because I was so amused and maybe also a little obsessive.)
  • I've recently discovered that 1 10 year old son + 14 stitches = way too much eating of way too much comfort food for mommy.  Perhaps I should have just gotten bombed that first night instead of eating like this for a couple of days.  I hate that it was such an easy and comfortable coat to put on that I didn't even notice I was wearing it for a while.
  • I'm totally annoyed that Kindles aren't backlit -like the kindle ap works out to be on my iphone.  I'm not yet sure I'm totally sold on it - though I think the lighted cover I just ordered which will make it bigger (which I want) and more expensive (which I didn't) and usable in bed at night while Brad's sleeping will go a long way towards me loving it - but the jury is definitely still out at the moment.
  • Why is sex such a taboo subject?  I so want to make that less true - can we start a revolution?  I think some of the best conversations are when people can just be open and honest about what they like and don't like and what works and what doesn't.  Doesn't it make sense to be able to share our knowledge about this subject just like we do about so many others?  Though, oddly I find people look at me funny when I suggest that perhaps they should go home and get laid - or take matters in their own hands - or drop to their knees in front of their partner and rock their world.
  • I've got this crud that's going around and it's fucking pissing me off.  It's not quite bad enough to really knock me down - but it's just slowly leaching the life out of me.  I want it to either kill me and get it over with or leave!
  • I can't spell to save my life.  I wish I cared about that more.
  • Using a 10 key calculator all day everyday has robbed me of the ability to do simple math in my head  (it's a common occupational hazard). I find it a little embarrassing.  People will often look to me, the accountant, when out to dinner to figure out how to split the meal (equally) and determine the tip (20%) - and I seriously can't do the math up there in the little old noggin anymore.  I generally refuse - please don't hate me for that if we're out to eat together in the future.
  • Why does Reese's insist on making peanut butter eggs at Easter time? (and hearts for Valentine's day, and trees at Christmas?)  They're evil I tell you.
  • I think the owner of the Orioles and the owner of the Redskins both have exceptionally small penises that they work hard to overcompensate for by believing they can be the sports directors of their respective teams in addition the owners.  And the years and years and years of evidence to the contrary doesn't seem to stop them from continuing to do it.  (it just goes to show you that the size of the penis is not in direct proportion to how it effects the brain from which it is hanging).

screaming like a little girl...

Do you all have stink bugs?  They are these stupid shield shaped bugs that someone thought it would be a good idea to import from China.  Only they don’t have any known predators in the states and so they are slowly taking over the country.


In the summer they swarm on sunny windows by the hundreds (I’m not kidding).  Then they can squish themselves really flat and slide on into your house and hang out there as the weather starts to get cold.  Like me, they don’t like to be cold.  Last summer was our third summer with them – we’re about a year ahead of most people in our area – I think it’s because we live in the Patapsco River valley, though that’s a total guess.  They stuck around throughout the winter this year for the first time – oh how delightful – they want to be inside where it’s warm – yay us!  Exterminators are at a loss for how to deal with them and when you kill them they emit an odor only other stink bugs can smell that attracts more stink bugs – so it’s best to flush them.  They are super slow and somewhat noisy when they fly around.  They make this little buzzing sound as they fly and then they land on something and it’s easy peasy to pick them up and dispose of them.  They are harmless, but annoying – sort of like a fly – only much easier to catch.

Every single day I have to flush 1 or 2 stink bugs. (last summer that number was more like 10-15).  The scientists have apparently just created some sort of non-stinging wasp that will eat their eggs and that is supposed to keep them from taking over the world – I’m, of course, sure this means that the wasps will do something unintended like eat all the trees – but that’s not for me to worry about right now.  I’m here to tell you how this strong powerful woman was reduced to blathering screaming little girl by the likes of a stupid, harmless stink bug; the kind I have been dealing with every single frickin’ day for quite a while now.

That was a seriously long build up to a really, really stupid story – so I apologize in advance as there’s really no payoff here.

So… there I am sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner with Brad.  I’ve got a bowl of mashed potatoes in front of me (I apparently was in the need of some comfort food).  When all of a sudden from out of nowhere – a super, rocket powered, turbo boosted stink bug dive bombs into the middle of my potatoes.  I screamed and turned white (according to Brad) and couldn’t speak for a minute.  I was so mad that a stupid stink bug could scare me that I was embarrassed too.  So there I am staring at my husband – willing him to get rid of that mean ol’ bug for me like a good man should do.  And there he is staring at me thinking someone had done a quick body snatch or something.  Actually he was scared to death that I’d somehow sustained a serious injury while sitting next to him eating mashed potatoes.  He claims the only time he’s ever seen me react anywhere near to what I had done was when my back is out.  It took several long minutes while I was believing he’d have to turn in his man card for not getting rid of the bug for me and him thinking I was never going to walk again before I managed to get him to look in the damn bowl and see the stink bug.

He quickly swept it away – man card still intact – and asked me if I still wanted the potatoes – man card got a gold star, husband card had points removed.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Holy Freakin' Sh#t!!

Holy freakin' shit.  That sums up last night for me.

I decided I could beat that demon apathy and got my ass on the treadmill.  I was building up a good head of steam at about the 20 minute mark when Teddy burst into the room.

Ted: Mom, come quick!  I think Jack needs stitches.
Me: Fuck!  (cuz you know Brad's out of town!!!  Things only happen when Brad's out of town.) 

Jack has a kitchen towel (thankfully he grabbed a clean one out of the drawer as I discovered when I went to get another one and found blood spatter in the drawer) pressed to his forehead and he's screaming.  I get him to show me and it's a 2.5 - 3 inch gash in the middle of his forehead - think Harry Potter only it's straight.

Sure enough Jack needed stitches.  They were playing frisbee and Jackson was running for the frisbee at top speed and his forehead collided with a metal mailbox.  Ted says his head shot back and his feet kept going, I'm damn glad I missed the visual of that.

While in the ER waiting room, my anxiety prone child spends a fair amount of time hunched over the toilet thinking he's going to throw up at just the prospect of stitches.  Eventually we make it back to the doctor (the nurse has already numbed the area with this cool topical paste) and she looks to see how deep it is and discovers it's straight through the muscle and down to the bone.  How delightful.  She wants a plastics consult - which I wanted as well - though our hospital doesn't have plastics on call.  It's affiliated with Johns Hopkins, but it isn't Hopkins.  She calls plastics and she has two little kids at home and her husband is out of town so she can't come.  We discuss transferring down to Hopkins to see plastics - while Brad is arranging via phone a plastics consult for the next morning with a friend of a friend.  Ultimately I decide more waiting would be just too much for Jackson as it had already been several hours by this point and get the pediatric ER doc to do it.  She was great.

So picture this my good friends...  I've gotten them to give Jack some medicine to relax him so he's a little less freaked out and now she goes to clean the already numbed wound.  Only - I guess the numbing paste stuff didn't penetrate all the way into the deep recesses of the wound because as she starts gently squirting it with whatever she was squirting it with - he starts screaming!  MOMMY! IT HURTS, IT HURTS, IT HURTS, MOMMY!!! MAKE HER STOP!!!  It was really fun.  She stopped and got Lidocaine to numb it further.  But as you know, Lidocaine stings like the holy fires of hell for a minute or two - so the entire time she was v.e.r.y.  t.h.o.r.o.u.g.h.l.y. applying Lidocaine to the entire area and for a minute or two more, he was screaming bloody murder.  IT STINGS IT STINGS MOMMY MAKE IT STOP, MOOOOOMMMMMYYYYYY. Sobbing and sobbing.  I swear to god I almost passed out.  I'm not the least little bit squeamish so I was watching what she was doing, waiting for the stuff to fully take effect, willing it to happen faster.  So I don't know if it was that I became squeamish because he is mine - or if it was just the helplessness of having him squeeze my fingers until the bones were rubbing together while he begged me to make it stop or a combination of both - but I started to get all sweaty and the room got a little wavy, and I became all kinds of nauseated, and I was completely afraid I was going to pass out.  I could reach with my leg a little stool on rollers and I got it under me and sat down.  I just knew if Mommy passed out, Jackson would die - so I somehow managed to get myself the fuck over it by concentrating on a picture across the room and mentally leaving for a few minutes - but holy fucking shit that was close.  I am so not a fainter.  I think I've fainted once in my life and that was due to extreme pain.

We're driving home from the hospital and....

Jack: will this be a scar I have for the rest of my life?
Me: It sure will.  We'll have to come up with a good story.
Jack: Well... Teddy's already used the "knife fight" one.
Me: yeah, well I think you could still use it if you wanted to - or, how about Harry Potter's apprentice?
Jack: Hmmm? Yeah.  I haven't earned the rest of the lightening bolt shape, I'll need a few more knives for the zig-zags. 

Apparently he was fine by that point.  (Uh, Jack... Mommy needs a little more time and a lot of alcohol to be able to switch gears back to fine - I'll have to get back to you when I'm there)

Anyway - he ended up with two stitches inside for the muscles (I was surprised it was only two, but it was just such a straight thing she said it went together perfectly) - and 12 stitches outside.  Frankenstein in the making.  I've talked to the most delightful plastic surgeon this morning who completely reassured me and gave me all kinds of wonderful advice for after care and wants to see him in a week to remove the stitches.  And I'm pretty sure that by the time I wake up tomorrow I'll be able to relax some of my muscles.

Before and after pictures - don't look if you get squeamish!

 

Monday, March 7, 2011

Some randomness...

Complete Apathy
First of all can I just say that TOM is visiting (totally still love that acronym) and he has sucked the very life right on out of me.  I'm hoping this click click clicking I'm doing with my fingers right now is going to be the single most strenuous thing I ever have to do for the rest of my life.  My head knows this lackluster, blah, I don't wanna, attitude has to be an extra special gift from my good buddy TOM this month, but seriously, if I could just sit here forever and a day, I'd be one happy camper.

My optimistic husband... (not)
So... Brad and I are watching True Blood last night.  (we got the series a million years ago but never got around to watching it until I finally got around to starting the books which I passed on to him and now we're both enjoying the books and have enjoyed the first several episodes of...)  At some point we hear some noises outside.  It sounded like fire crackers - like you hear all night long on the 4th of July - but it was odd, of course, since it was the 6th of March.  But... eh.  We've got 300ish kids in our neighborhood and who knows what someone might be doing at any given time.  We made note of it and kept watching.  A little while later we see flashing lights reflected on the TV and get up to be nosy see if we can lend any assistance and discover a fire truck and an ambulance making their way slowly and silently up our street and then down the side street opposite our driveway.

Brad: Oh great.  That was gunfire.  (not that it isn't possible, but we live in la la land suburbia where the only gunfire we hear is when they do scheduled deer population reducing hunts in the state park behind our house).  Had to have been at Gene's house.  (um seriously?  Gene's house?  I haven't seen hide nor hair of this neighbor two houses down from us in... well all winter).

Me: The slow and silent ambulance and firetruck have tapped into your super powers so you know those pops we heard earlier was gunfire at Gene's house?  Okay, I'll bite, how do you get from A to B in this story?

Brad: Jamie (another neighbor) told me there have been some domestic disputes between Gene and his wife who left a while ago.

Me: Don't you think a cop might show up if they thought there was gunfire?

(meanwhile the 2 pieces of emergency equipment make their way to the end of the cul-de-sac and slowly turn around and come back towards our house, stopping across the street from Gene's house.)

Brad: See!  I told you so!  They're going to Gene's house.  I knew it.

Me: uh... I'm thinking they're going to the house across the street - you know, since that's where they parked.  I'm pretty sure they'd stay on the correct side of the road and pull up right in front of Gene's if that's where they were going.  And I'm thinking it's not a serious emergency as they're not speeding or even sort of hurrying.  And I really think the absence of a cop car make the gunfire choice really unlikely.

Brad: No, watch them, they're getting out of the trucks - they're going to go into Gene's.

They went into Tony's house across the street. Where they'd parked.  They left about 15 minutes later.  I patted Brad's arm and drug him back to the TV.

Spring sports insanity
I completely get I'm not alone here and I also know I've already whined about this before - but that in no way means I'm not going to whine about it again.  All the initial sports emails have started to circulate and it got me a little worried so I wrote down what our sports weeks are going to look like when everything is in full swing and holy fucking shit.  In each seven day period, in addition to the grownups' full time jobs and the kids' school and homework we have.
1 soccer practice - 1 hour each
1 flag football practice - 1 hour each
2 baseball practices - 1 hour each
2 batting cage practices - 1 hour each
1 soccer game - 1 1/2 hours each
1 flag football game - 1 hour each
4 baseball games - 2 1/2-3 hours each
That's 19.5 hours of stuff.  And that doesn't include any driving time to and from those things or the waiting time that inevitably happens because an earlier game went long.  We've done four things before, but we've never done two time sucking America's past-time baseball's at the same time and one of the four was always something like swimming lessons - so it was just an hour a week for that.  We only have two kids!!  How did this happen?  And how in God's name do you all manage it when you've got more than two?

Trapped!


It's freakin' pouring on Sunday!!!  Like seriously.. it's time to build a new ark.  But our first little league practices for both of them (at the same time thank you Jesus!!) is scheduled for 4:30.  Will they cancel it thinking the dogs and cats falling from the sky might hit one of the cute little kids up side their heads?  Nope - we'll still get together and talk and pass out uniforms yadda, yadda, yadda.  All four of us go so I can go with Ted and Brad can go with Jack.  We get there and the three boys fly out of the car while I am putting on my rain coat and readying my umbrella.  I tell them I'll be right behind them and they leave.  And then a minute or two later... I hear it.  The dreaded sound.  The car's being locked with the remote.  Brad's forgotten I'm in the car.  (We have a very strong relationship)  I get myself ready and debate what to do.  I know good and well, the second I open the car door the alarm is going to go off and everyone in the park (oh did I mention that of all the baseball organizations in our league - only ours is at the park - the rest of them were smart enough to leave the hurricane to mother nature).   I call him, does he answer?  Nope.  I think the thunderous rain probably drowned (lol) out the sound of his phone.  So... out I go to a cacophony of horns and beeps and the strobe of flashing lights.  It's all very exciting!!  Is all this fuss about little 'ol me?  You shouldn't have.... seriously!

I just love love love to have lots of people looking at me (NOT!!!)  Is one of those people my husband?  Nope.  How about one of my cute little kids?  Not a chance.  Where are they, you might ask.  Who the fuck knows, I might answer.  I have to get out of and walk away from the flashing and beeping car.  People are pointing and laughing - man she sure is an idiot - how can she just walk away from all that racket.  Poor, pitiful thing, must not know how to turn all those lights and noises off.  Should we tell her to just hit the button on the remote, or should we just keep laughing???  I'm searching high and low for a random member of my family.  Hell, by this point I'd settle for a mechanic who could disable the damn thing.  Finally I spot Brad happily reconnecting with his fellow coaches from last year.  HEY BRADFORD!!!!! (I didn't say - 'you fucking idiot') THAT'S YOUR (God forsaken fucking) VAN!!!  YOU (fucking) LOCKED ME IN THE (fucking) CAR!!   Again - did I mention loving being the center of attention? Jackson looks up at him - I told you that sounded like your car, dad!

Friday, March 4, 2011

B.Y.O.C. - Bring Your Own Crazy!!!

Even though Drazil's sick, she still managed to give us our Friday dose of BYOC - Bless her little heart!!

BYOC - for any newbies here - is 5 little questions you can copy and paste to your blog and answer in an effort to give your blog brain a break and to get to know each other better!  Enjoy!

1.  If you could be a weather forecast, what would you be and why?

I could probably make a case for just about any kind of whether out there - okay, no tornados or hurricanes or things of that nature - but I just flat out LOVE LOVE LOVE weather.  I love big blustery winds, and driving thunderstorms and light spring rains and pretty white snow storms (as long as they only happen at the ski resort you can drive up to with the convertible top down) and seriously HOT and HUMID days.  Okay, I really don't care for seriously, bitterly cold, but to have all the rest I'll happily take it.  I think it's why I like living in MD so much.  There are 4 very distinct seasons here and I love them all.  okay I love winter WAY least of all, but please don't tell Mother Nature. 

But... to answer the question, I'd pick... Bright sunshine, little white puffy clouds, 78 degrees, very light breeze.  It's a happy kind of forecast.  One that makes me think of playing at the pool or the beach, long drives with the top down, just generally playing.  All lovely things.

2.  Would you break the law to save a loved one?

This is an easy one.  Absofuckinglutely.  It wouldn't cross my mind not to, and I wouldn't have the slightest guilt afterwards (how do you spell that?) and if history holds true, I'd be able to talk myself out of any trouble in the end.


3.  If Happiness was the national currency, what would make you filthy rich?

Peace.  Confidence that I understand and belong in my little place in the world.  Much more time at home.  Sleepy, sweet sex every morning and wild, scream-into-your pillow sex every night.

4.  Can you sum up your life in a six word sentence?  (Example:  My heart continuously expands in joy.)

Hmmmmm.  Six words.... Seriously? 

Continuously searching for peace and belonging

5.  Repeat question.  Summarize your week in blogland and in real life.

Blogland - Other than Draz's BYOC #4 this week which totally through me for the loop, it's been good.  It's going to take me some time to recover from that one.  I'm looking forward to the springtime challenge starting on Sunday.

Real life - continues to be be busy - We have basketball playoffs, and a skills challenge competition on Saturday and the first baseball practice on Sunday.  I'm looking towards what we've gotten ourselves into this spring - two boys, two sports each.  Teddy has been playing baseball and soccer in the spring for a while now and Jackson does flag football, but this year we've added baseball for Jack too.   - What the hell were we thinking?  Baseball games are as long as three hours each on a Saturday or a Sunday - and now there are two.  Maybe they'll be mostly at the same time and Brad and I will just split up...  Aaaah well, what are you gonna do?