Archive for the ‘My life’ Category

Oh how I love this time of the year. I am counting the days until I have a summer unfettered by schedules and drop off/pick up lines. I can sleep late, stay up late, indulge in  teenage behavior until my heart is content. Bliss.

This year is no different but the added relief of fewer trips to the gas pump has me down right giddy! Honestly, it might be cheaper to rent a house in that district instead of paying for all the gas, but we have a perfectly good home here…

But, who cares? It’s all out the window for now. I get to harass kids all summer long while resorting to my night owlish ways. Giddy!

I have added a yearly tradition to my schedule. I have been to pick strawberries twice this year and I plan to make it a habit. They are so much better than anything you can get at the grocery. Hands down a million times better. E has eaten so many that I think she’ll turn red any moment. I know for a fact that she’s eat an entire quart herself since Thursday. She’s still pretty tiny! I knew when our little plants were only producing a ripe berry every few days that I would have to do something. She would check them and say, “Meme, can I have that straawbwery?” hardly waiting until I washed it. The darn critters are beating her to her little treats, they like them very much, too.

Happy spring’s end to one and all, I plan to usher in the summer sleeping in, swimming, and otherwise enjoying our little domestication type situation. As aggravating  as kids are, they are so much fun to have around. I’m one of those parents who really does hate to see summer come to a close. I miss my little minion, they should be here doing my biding, no one else’s. TYVM.

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That I write with this ridiculous mix of text speak and some archaic nonsense. It’s not on purpose, I think that I actually speak this way.

While editing some written work, I keep thinking, “WTF? No, the heroin wouldn’t say something like, ‘I will leave your entourage as they are. Dr. Allen will have moved him away from where I am likely to show up. She’s freakishly keen.’ No, no, that won’t do.” *edits* I look up and it says something equally redonk. This is why I’ll never be published. I’ma go hang out on ff.net now, FTW. They’ll love me there. Awesome.

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is still up in my living room. I knew this would happen. I undecorated it, I packed all that stuff away, yet there the naked tree sits mocking me. It says, “Suck it, Biotch. I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re too lazy and full of excuses and no one else cares, so HA!” Stupid christmas tree.

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With the holidays my diet has been completely mad. For most people this is a fact of nature. For me it’s pretty dang scary. I’m searching for some ghost craving and it’s making me miserable. I eat foods that I don’t really want, then an hour later I’m looking for something again. It’s purely psychological, I think. It is possible it’s a need for nutrients, I’ve considered that, I am not good with the vitamins…

I should probably do the five day pouch reset, I’ve heard it can do pretty good things. Excuses, excuses, I know, but I hate protein powder. The reset consists of a lot of protein shakes and liquid dieting to which I’m no stranger. However, post surgery, I find that I am incredibly lazy and the protein powder has to be a certain brand. Which I have to order and I have to play holiday catch up first. I’ll probably try to modify the reset diet and watch what I’m consuming a little closer. Probably. I hate feeling this miserable, though.

It has been three and a half years since I took the trip to Monterrey, Mexico to have Gastric Bypass with Dr. Rumbaut. It was a terrifyingly exciting decision and for the most part I haven’t regretted it one bit. Losing weight didn’t change the things I thought it would. I’m still incredibly anxious and people shy. I am not able to start or hold conversations well. I still don’t like to get out of my house when I’m in a funk, which is a lot. I had thought when I was ‘skinny’ that would change too. No more depression because the fat wouldn’t be holding me back. It turns out, the depression wasn’t because I was fat. It was because I have a pretty serious tendency toward depression and severe anxiety. I still hate to shop, even if I can go into any store and buy clothing off the rack without worrying if it might fit. Funny how you can’t go into Victoria’s Secret even though you’re a size six because you’re convinced that everyone in the store knows you don’t belong because you’re way too fat. Hi, eating disorder.

Yet still, I’m happy with the outcome of my weight loss. I feel better physically, and I know now that the pain I was experiencing wasn’t just because I was ‘overweight’ as my PCP constantly suggested. It’s funny how people stop looking at your ailments as caused by your weight when you weigh 140lbs instead of 300+lbs. Same issue, but now magically it’s possibly RA or another auto-immune disorder instead of just Fatassitis. Sweet. Heh. I have a gorgeous two and a half year old that I wouldn’t have if not for the surgery.My kids don’t remember their mom being so unhealthily large and my husband thinks I’m great. Still. A pretty good dude, if a tad bothersome now with the ‘oh look a shiny new play thing!Eleventy!1’. Still incredibly cute though.

Life is a beautiful tragedy and no one makes it out alive. I have been blessed many times over and for that I am thankful. I haven’t the slightest idea how 2011 will go (one can only hope it looks better than 2010) but I do wish everyone a prosperous New Year full of joy, love, and good things.

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and building a house else where. It’s incredibly stressful and my anxiety is about a 15 on a scale of 1 to 10. Two procrastinators should never decide to do something or you know, decide to be mates. We are both horrid about putting stuff. He does this stuff for a living, and I imagine it gets way old. I’m just ready for something to happen. Standing on the edge looking over isn’t helping. I don’t know why change upsets me so.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m incredibly excited thinking about having a home built exactly the way we want it. We’re doing it all, design, execution, and follow up. I just hope this flare up goes away soon, it’s not helping my mood.

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I’m not sure when the word cancer became synonymous with the end. Perhaps it is a lack of happy endings around me when it comes to cancer. My grandmother is 82 and quite healthy. I’m sure I’ve mentioned that before. She isn’t the typical frail older lady. She is still robust and head strong. She is quite certain she can handle any situation that life throws at her. She routinely offers to watch my twenty month old angelic little beast. Anyone with a not-quite-two-year-old should be able to appreciate what a job that is for anyone, let alone someone who is eighty years her senior. All of my life she has been a constant, sturdy and steadfast. She was the ultimate matriarch that kept our family functioning. Now, things have settled and there isn’t as much need for a matriarch, but when the need arises she handles it just fine, thanks. My mother passed away less than three years after my grandpa, who was the love of my granny’s life. That changed things considerably, it broke her heart, of course. But here are three of her girls still, my aunt, my cousin, and myself. She still cares for us like she always has. I have given her great-grandchildren and she is crazy about them, they all adore her, too. The baby has taken to following her around, begging to be picked up. No matter what she’s doing. Cooking, cleaning, whatever other chore she has given herself, that baby just does not believe in the word no. Granny picks her up and says, “I don’t believe I wanted you!” and gives her hugs and sugars all the while not putting her down until the task at hand has to be attended to at once. Things to do you know!

Last week the test results from a stomach scope came back. She’s been having gastric issues for at least two years that I can remember. We were talking about it with her GP when I was pregnant with Eva. She has a huge ulcer in her esophagus and her H.Pilori is out of control, apparently. There were also a few cancer cells coming from the ulcer. The gastro wasn’t too concerned, he suggested to my aunt that she may not even need treatment. They have referred her to an oncologist for consultation and he will make the final decisions where that is concerned. Her gastro also put my aunt to ease by saying that it wasn’t as serious a situation as my uncle has going on with his own gastro issues. She was happy with that and feels like things will be just fine. I am also feeling quite positive.

BUT, I  can’t help but panic. I can’t help but feel like I’m losing something. I know that she won’t be on this earth forever. With both of my parents gone, it feels like the only string holding me down is slowly unraveling. Only now, life is holding a blade to the string, taunting me. I’m not dealing with this situation.

I know that she will fight for what life she has left. She has an abiding love for her kids, especially these little ones. Her new ‘friend’ is a good incentive to be well. I know that her faith is unyielding. I know that her prognosis will be good and her grace will pull us through. I just wish my heart would quit with the dramatics.

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I’m so sad, I hate the beginning of the school year. The adjustment to having the kids here at home and then not is hard on me. I miss them and the lazy summer days we spend together.

It’s a big transition this year. One starting 7th grade which in our little district is technically high school. One going into Kindergarten, a big transformation for her. A third grader thrown in for good measure and I have a full schedule. I am concerned about the big boy blending in with high school life and being able to hold on to the small grip of academics he had going on the end of year last year. Being socially awkward is incredibly hard, add in the other issues and my brilliant boy is hard pressed to withstand the pressure. I think he will do ok, it seems that he is ready, excited even, to go back. My big girl is also ready to start this new chapter in her life. She’s asked every day for the last three weeks if school is starting tomorrow! I imagine after the first few days she’ll be done with all that nonsense and want to stay home. None of that this time, no dropping out like we did with preschool.

The nursey girl is going to be none too happy. I imagine that I’ll be insane by Friday. No one to keep her busy? What? Crazy talk people, crazy talk.

My schedule is also lamenting the return of school. I do not want to get up at 5:30 am. That’s generally a time I don’t care to see ever. I like to sleep until at least 10am, thanksverymuch. I don’t have time for this, when will I facebook and tweet? When will I ever have time to like, do some nothing? Argh.

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