Betty's Command Center-Stage 1

So... On my list of intentions for 2011 I said I wanted to let Betty, my inner neat freak, out of her cage.  Well good grief it's time already!  Geesh!  I'm such a freaking perfectionist.  I've been planning and thinking and planning some more on just what I should do first?  How should I get the kids involved?  How do I make this as painless for all of us as possible?  I sought advice from seriously organized humans - our own Drazil among them.  Finally I decided if left to my own devices I would plan for it for the whole year without doing a god damn thing.  So... I (and this is big for me) decided to just do it.

I decided to just start with something knowing it may very well - in all probability will - change in form and function along the way.  But - stage 1 was to get a central place up and functional where some key things for our family are posted.  A calendar, a list of chores for my far-too-spoiled kids, and a whiteboard for those staples we need at the store (I totally stole this from Drazil).  Have I mentioned recently, Draz is 'da bomb?  And, since I feel fairly confident this will change, I decided to not go all out and create the world's cutest yet most functional thing ever seen (I was really contemplating whether painted or stained wood would be best for the box I was going to build.... and other stupid things of that nature.)

Without further ado - here is stage 1 of Betty's Command Center.

The little red paper has a list of chores that alternate between weeks; A-week and B-week so the boys trade chores each week - this is going to be such a pain in the ass getting Teddy on board with this.  He says he's ready, but man, he's the laziest thing - it's a good thing he's cute.

I was worried about where I'd put such a thing because there are very few walls in my kitchen, well really on the first floor, but then I thought... d'oh.  What about the little hallway-ish between the kitchen and the rest of the floor - it's sort of partly in the kitchen and it's totally a wall AND!!! you see it when you walk in the house through the garage which is how we walk in.

This is from the mudroom (between garage and kitchen).  Why it never occurred to me to use this wall before I have no idea.  I think Teddy is playing on Facebook, I can't believe I have a kid old enough to have a facebook account.

The boys immediately LOVED the idea of having somewhere to write what we they needed wanted at the store.  As you can see, my boys are extremely health conscious.  The 1st four and last items are from Ted (I wonder if he's looking for sausage flavored gushers) and the middle three are from Jack (Marshmellow Fluff!!!!!  - Jack comes by his inability to spell and his love for exclamation points honestly).

And really, just because he was there - here's Teddy wondering if this whole Betty thing is really a sign that I've finally completely lost my mind.  Because first I've created an alternate identity for myself which I've totally named, and now I'm taking pictures of it to show to people.  Seriously, he's worried.

As I was trying to get a picture of him I liked, my phone's flash went off on one of them and I thought it did a decent job of showing how wildly green this boys eyes are and thought I'd share.  One day he's gonna be a killer - I pray he stays total nerd boy for as long as possible!!!

And last but not least...

If you look closely behind Teddy's head in that first picture of him you can see the kitchen Christmas tree box and tree.  Which is because the tree WAS STILL UP,  standing in the corner.  Yes, I know it's February.  (I swear it's down now.  If the box is now in the living room instead of the garage - well that's just a little detail, right?)

Oh and there was a message on our answering machine last night when we got home.  It was from Ricky, my mother-in-law.  She was trying to get a phone number in Virginia.  Somewhere between the dialing and the bringing the phone to her ear, she forgot she dialed the 11 digits of our number in MD and thought she dialed 411.  And I guess her son's voice on the recorded message did not dissuade her from that belief.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone.

I got my hair chopped!

What I got cut off was a touch too short to donate and I wasn't brave enough to go even shorter in one fell swoop - but... what do you think?  I love it - I feel sort of... free or something.

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

BYOC Friday….5 little questions you can copy and paste into your blog to get to know each other better and to give your blogging brain a break!


Enjoy!

1. What day of the week do you love and what day of the week do you hate?

Love - Saturday's are the best.  My 10 year old is up at 6 every single day, but he's extremely self sufficient so he gets up and watches TV or plays a video game or whatever and when he gets hungry he fixes himself breakfast and lets Brad and I sleep.  The 12 year old is not even a little bit self sufficient but will easily get trapped by the TV and totally forget he has a stomach - or as he gets closer to his teenage years, he might just sleep right on through the morning.  Sunday's are pretty good too - Brad and I have a long standing tradition of trading off Saturdays and Sundays so that one of us can sleep in as late as we want on at least one day each weekend.  This doesn't always work as our kids play year round sports so sometimes they have early weekend games which totally pisses me off!!

Hate: hmmmm.  I'm not sure I hate any days.  Maybe Tuesdays - it's still right there at the very beginning of the work week with most of the week left to go.  Monday's aren't that bad because there's a newness to it. 



2. What is your middle name and is there a meaning behind it?

My middle name is Read; pronounced 'reed'.  There is no meaning behind it, but the story of where it came from tells you something about my parents.... I'm not sure what exactly, but it's definitely something.  So - growing up there were two stories as to where my middle name came from.

Story A (the most commonly shared story) - At the time of my birth, my mom had brown hair and my dad had blond hair so they thought blending those two colors together I might have red hair and figured they might want to call me red.  As you know read can be pronounce 'reed' or 'red' - as in "Tomorrow I will read a book" or "Yesterday, I read a book".  They liked how 'reed' sounded with my first and last name better than how 'red' sounded so they went ahead and spelled it Read so they had the option just in case I didn't have red hair.

Story B (told only once by my father while he was drunk (I think)) - "We bought all her baby supplies at Read's (pronounced 'reed') Drug Store down on Main Street and needed a middle name for her.  It sounded pretty good with the rest of the name so we went with it."

My mother vehemently denied story B.

So there I am on my merry little way towards growing up wonderfuly thankful that I didn't have red hair so that my insane parents hadn't had reason to call me red and I end up in Mr. Moonyham's 7th grade science class.  At some point during the year we did a basic lesson on DNA and how traits are passed from one generation to another and it was here that I learned the impossibility of me having red hair just because my mom had brown and my dad had blond.  Man, what tools they were!!  Totally stupid!  I can't believe they thought it worked that way!  But wait!!!  Stop the presses!!  While it's true that my dad is a lawyer, his undergrad degree was in zoology.  And my 12 year old brain was plenty smart enough to know my dad had to understand how traits were passed down WAAAAAAY better than I had just learned in Mr. Moonyham's 7th grade science class.  I had been had!

 I marched home and confronted my mother with this new found knowledge - you've been lying to me my whole life!!!  It's not the hair thing is it?  It was totally because of Read's Drug Store wasn't it???  Um... well... shit.  Yes, yes it was.  And it does sound really good with your first and last name.

Read's Drug Store was in fact a lovely little store right on Main Street in downtown Annapolis (where I grew up) for many, many years though sadly it's been gone for decades.  And ammusing to me - I now do have red hair which Brad totally pestered me into trying many years ago.  I've got green eyes and he always thought I'd look good with red hair.  Finally I gave in and tried it and I've been red ever since. - I love it.



3. Since I’m dreaming of my next tattoo, I’m going to ask this one. Do you have any tattoos? How many? If you don’t have one – what would you get if you did have one?

I have one on my upper right thigh.  It's completely hidden in just about anything I wear, but it's plenty low enough that I can easily share it with whomever I want to without flashing them.  It's a couple of small yellow flowers and it desperately needs a little bee flying around them.  I've always had a thing for bees and wanted to add a bee to it even when I got it, but I was too poor back then.  It's completely on my list to add the bee one of these days, but every single time I have been somewhere - like on vacation or something and I think of it - the local parlor has been closed.  Perhaps I'll get it in Chicago at BOOBs II.  In fact as I'm typing that, I'm thinking that's a fantastic idea.  I've got plenty of time to research a good place and find the perfect bee before then. hmmmmm.  So.. anyone from the Chicago area who wants to suggest a good parlor - I'm all ears.

And just for the hell of it... a bit of my insanity.  So, I always always always wanted a tattoo.  And when I was in high school I seriously contemplated getting one (I didn't need to be 18 back then) but talked myself out of it as I am a seriously practical person and I thought - hey wait, I'm really young - what if I get this permanent thing and then in a few years I decide it was stupid that I got one and regret it.  I hate regrets.  So I made myself wait until I turned 18.  Then I got to be 18 and I still desperately wanted one, but I talked myself out of it again for the same exact reason - what if I regret it in the future... wait until you're 21.  At 21 I talked myself into waiting till I was 25.  By then I was dating Brad and just didn't get around to it.  We got married in April just before I turned 27 in May.  Within the month of getting married I or maybe it was Brad finally said enough is enough, go get the damn tattoo.  So I did and I got it where I could see it but no one else could (unless I so chose) because I got it for me and my own personal enjoyment - just a little happy thing on my leg.  But as soon as it gets warm and I'm wearing shorts - if you're hanging out with me, I am known to say - HEY LOOK!!! (as I lift up the leg to my shorts) IT'S TATTOO WEATHER! YAY!!!

4. On that same theme of dirty little secrets…how many piercings do you have? Any you wish you had?

You'll be relieved to know, I have no silly little anecdotes for this one.  Though the answer is... I guess I'm not sure.  I have gotten a total of 5 holes in my ears, 3 on one side and 2 on the other, but it's been so long since I put earings in anything but the bottom holes I would assume the other 3 are closed up.  So somewhere between 2 and 5 is the answer.  I have no desire to get any others especially not in my ta tas. 

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

Blogland - I'm totally excited about BOOBs II.  I love Chicago and I love all of you - what could be better!!  And now a BOOBs bee tattoo - totally fun!!

Real life - I've got nothing exciting to report here.  Brad's in Dallas being a geek at a Comic book retailers show.  He's a big comic book guy and runs the Baltimore Comic Book Convention along with a Retailer friend of his.  So they're down there soliciting sponsors for the awards ceremony and generally geeking it up.  To those BOOB committee members.  I have some experience helping put on a conference as I work with Brad and Marc each year, I'm happy to help.  We've had 2 weeks in a row of relatively low stress between us which is such a relief I can't tell you.  I don't think we've solved anything yet, but we don't hate coming home anymore and that's a very big thing.

Weigh in day

It's a Christmas miracle.  As I whined mentioned before, on Tuesday of this week I weighed 199.8 which came as a scary slap in the face and I've been on the straight and narrow ever since and...

Today I weighed 194.0 which is .2 down from 2 weeks ago (I forgot to weigh in last week) and 41 down in total.  I'm still not moving my ticker up.  I just don't wanna!

Help! I'm still clueless....

Thank you all so much for helping my clueless self out - but I clearly need remedial training!!!

I'm not sure I even knew the dashboard existed, though it is ringing some distant bell... but that's a whole different story.

I've now gone to the dashboard and it mostly looks like google reader.  It seems to show the most recently updated posts first, and it has an alphabetical listing of all the blogs on the left - this is a great place becuase I know I've followed a few blogs but then forgotten to add them to my roll and until I trip over that blog again I'm out of luck. 

But it only shows the first paragraph or so of each post before it moves onto the next post and in order to read the rest of the post it seems I have to click the title of the post which then opens up the whole blog in a different window - just as if I'd clicked it from my blog roll.  I'm hoping to avoid actually going to the colorful blogs (or at least have that option when I'm not doing what I should be doing at work).  Am I missing how to use the Dashboard most effectively - or does it in fact just open the entire blog in order to be able to read the rest of the post.

Thanks for your continued support of this dense little girl.

A question for my friendly neighborhood bloggers...

How do you read the blogs you follow?

Seriously - I'm trying to figure out the best way.  I do my best to add a blog I'm following to my blog roll on the side of my blog and then I sit down and click from one to the other.  Of course that's hard to do at work as we all have such beautiful and colorful blogs and they... well draw attention to the fact that I'm hanging out with you guys instead of working.  And while they say - attention is good... who needs that kind of attention.

I've heard people talk about using Google Reader.  As it happens - I'm stupid.  It always totally annoys me when I discover this fact.  But I open Reader and first of all there are roughly 4 million blog posts (if I'm reading it correctly and you ignore the exaggeration).  I'm immediately overwhelmed of course.  But seriously, I can't figure out how it works.  I mean I get that it lists 1 blog at a time and has all the unread posts listed.  But... I can't figure out in what order these blogs are listed - though I'm thinking it must be alphabetical since I seem to remember Joey's being very near the top, but I'm not sure.

See what happens is - I open up reader and I stare at it in the little half window I have opened up on my desk top at work (so I'm only seeing half of the screen) and I click on this or that and and get all confused because I can't figure out how to find a blog I might be looking for without reading the first 3,999,999 other posts first then I quickly close reader for fear that my head might explode.  I take a few deep breaths.  I wish I had some whiskey nearby for a quick shot.  Then I think about how I wish I didn't have that unfortunate evening in highschool where I lost both any hope for ever being able to drink whiskey again and my virginity - because even if I did have the whiskey I coudln't drink it.  I do so love the idea of downing a shot of it now and again to calm frayed nerves... But I digress.

So, my friends... What method do you use to keep up?  And do your methods also make you think back to too much whiskey and the nakedness that ensued? 

The wake-up call

Why do we need them?  I don’t know about the rest of you, but it sort of pisses me off that I do.  I’ve been struggling for a couple of weeks now.  It all goes back to this new fill.  I have ½ cc more in me now than I did before, and in some respects I am tighter.  I definitely have a harder time eating in the morning.  But for the most part, it’s opened the world of food back up for me.  I hadn’t eaten any pasta, bread, or rice since surgery because that was a rule my doctor gave me; none of that for six months.  He says that those three things more than most others expand and that’s not a good idea while still getting used to your little stoma.  When the six month mark came, I had enough restriction that I was still afraid to try eating it. 

Then I got this fill and well slowly but surely I’ve been able to eat…. Anything.  Nothing is off limits.  And if I eat slowly enough, sometimes I can eat way more than I should be able to with no issues whatsoever.  Of course on other days I can’t get past bite two before I’m done, but that’s just the fickle nature of the band I think. 

I didn’t really eat a lot of pasta, bread, and rice before the surgery – it’s just not my thing.  But as I’ve been able to eat – really just capable – I’ve been seemingly experimenting non stop.  We just celebrated Christmas with my dad and step mom this weekend (yes, I know it’s February) and we ordered some pizza for the kids and some chicken pasta pesto for the grownups.  I fully expected to eat a few bites of the chicken and call it a day.  I wasn’t at all worried about it.  I knew Dad and Pat wouldn’t notice how little I was eating and if they did, an easy comment or even lie would placate them.

But then I had trouble telling the pieces of chicken and the penne apart – it was all the same sauce color and the same size-ish – and I had a few bites of pasta.  And guess what?  My stoma didn’t explode.  In fact, it went down with no problem at all.  When I had the chicken which was totally dry, that was a little dicey, but the pasta – no problem whatsoever.  So, of course I had more pasta.  Then, Brad and I took the left over pasta home with us – added more sauce because it was a little dry and I had more of it all weekend long.  Hell, I hadn’t had a bite of pasta in more than seven months – this was totally cool to me.

I had forgotten to do my weigh in on Friday, but had weighed myself last Wednesday which marked seven months since surgery and I was back in the right direction at 192.8.  Then the experimentation hit full swing.  OMG.  I can eat pasta.  That probably means I can eat sushi too – though I haven’t tried that one, maybe even ½ a sandwich.  Okay – really I have to back up.  I learned about the pasta over the weekend…. But the pizza.  I swear to god – honest to goodness pizza – that was on Thursday or Friday. 

Brad was away and there was a fundraising night for Jack’s school at a local pizza place.  I carefully reviewed their menu online from work and ordered a salad for me and some pizza for the boys.  Weeeellllll… I ate my salad – which I think must be a super band expanding food for me – and decided to take a bite of the pizza (which I also hadn’t had any of in seven months) and guess what.  I had no problem with it at all.  None.  I ended up eating 2 ½ pieces of pizza – and not any mamsy pamsy thin crust either – without even the tiniest comment from my band. (and of course this was after I ate the entire salad which I thought I’d only be eating a little bit of).  Holy shit, I had a whole salad and 2.5 pieces of pizza for dinner.  Are you kidding me?  How is that even possible?

Then we went onto the weekend where I had pasta – drenched in a creamy pesto sauce I might add.  Anyway – to the wakeup call.  Oh wait.  Have I been working out?  um… nope.  I even took Drazil’s challenge to workout the remaining – oh 6 or so days of January… I failed the first day.  I’d love to say it was all because I hurt my shoulder, but that would be a big fat lie.  There were probably a couple days in there where even the treadmill would have hurt my arm, but for the most part it was shear laziness.  I hate being lazy.

So to the wake-up call.  I have always weighed myself on Monday mornings – for many, many years.  Only since the band have I started making Friday’s my official weigh in day – but I still dutifully record my weight every Monday morning – of course it’s on a spreadsheet that goes back for years.  Well, my friends, I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t make myself get on the scale on Monday morning.  I was too afraid of what the number might be.  Did you see what I ate?  Can you imagine?  But on Tuesday I had to do it.  I was afraid of continuing to not get on the scale – fearing that would start a big huge unstoppable slide back to where I started or worse.  (The other thing not getting on the scale is a sign of for me - is running away - like I do with blogging I think too - sometimes I only blog about the good stuff (band wise) and I really think that's unhealthy for me.  I need to just get it all out there - the good and the bad.  I just don't want to hide anymore.)

I got on the scale on Tuesday morning totally fearing I’d see a number that started with a 2 again.  And I did – but only for a second while it settled on its final number of HOLY SHIT 199.8.  OMG.  Seriously OMG.  So, I decided drastic measures were called for – something to whack my system back to where it needed to be.  I did liquids yesterday – I had plenty of protein – just all in liquid form.  Today I’m back to my normal if boring mostly protein food that I eat during the week.  I exercised yesterday and this morning.  I think the call (or weight, as it may be) woke me up sufficiently.  I don’t want to go back there.  Apparently it’s pretty easy to do – band or not.  Usually this current fill level doesn’t let me eat much – the pizza night was a total anomaly – but it does let me eat whatever the hell I want.  This is a good thing.  But it’s a very scary thing too.  We’ll see how it goes.