Day at the Park -- repost

 I was looking for some info about Little, bc my blog is her baby book.  I came across this lovely little post, from when Big was 3 & Little was 4 months old, August 27, 2006.  I don't even know the woman who wrote this, she has so much energy!  This whole deal was actually pretty funny.  Thought you all might enjoy it.


I mentioned that I’m checking into a new mom’s group for Little. This group has playdates several days a week and I decided to attend one with both girls last week. The location for these playdates can vary but the typical choice is a location somewhere in our neighborhood (the group is created by neighborhood/city). It is my experience with Big’s mom’s group that occasionally a park that is considered to be so cool that the group will agree to hold a playdate there even though it would be considered geographically undesirable. In this case, the location was at a park about 6 miles away, a distance I would consider to be geographically undesirable. I figured it must be one of those ultra cool parks. Yeah, umm, not so much. Especially after I got done with it. Only one other mom and I showed up. (Not the mom who organized and choose the park either.) AND I was an hour late, partly cause the park so freaking far away! The other mom also had an older child (her daughter “A” is 2). She brought her kids’ lunch, bathing suits for the play area and was on time. I showed up an hour late, w/ a couple snack paks of crackers, a bottle of water for Big and I to share and needed to nurse BS like crazy. My lovely 3 YO showed all of her maturity by promptly announcing she “didn’t want to play with A”. Nice, thanks for helping mommy meet some new people there Big. Big also wanted to play in the water area (damit I pulled her backpack with her change of clothes and bathing suit out of the car the day before to make room for the outlaws!) After a few minutes of negotiating (me trying to talk her out of it) I finally realized my boobs might explode if I didn’t nurse Little like now and told Big to go ahead and play in her underwear. Yeah, I am white trash that way. I am also a mom who can only take so much and I had breast milk on the brain at that point. She slipped about 5 minutes into it, scraped her hip and decided she was done with it, so she went commando the rest of the day. I’m training my kid in the finer points of white trashiness as well. Then she asked A’s mommy to push her on the swings (nice, insult her kid and ask her to play—very classy.) After that she came over to tell me about the swings and asked if she could do it alone. I said sure. Well this playground had two areas (both gated) and what she was asking was if she could go alone to the other playground, which wasn’t very close to us, so the answer was no if I’d realized that’s what I was being asked. When I realized she had walked past the swings and was opening the gate I yelled at her to stop but she couldn’t hear me. Just then “A” fell on the closer playground so her mom had to go deal with that (since I wasn’t imposing enough on her already). I didn’t know both playgrounds were completely gated so I was freaking out; my kid was going through the gate! Who knew what freaks might be hanging out in the toddler playground! Toddlers even!! I got up with Little still hanging on my boob and started walking/running toward her as "best I could," baby hanging on boob. I’m not so good at the whole mobile child feeding thing. Remember I'm still yelling at her to stop, so as to draw as much attention to myself as possible. Next thing I know, I stepped on a bee! Yes, a freaking bee!!! Of course it was the foot that was the same side I had BS hanging off of. So I’m standing in the middle of the park at lunchtime (very busy time of day), trying to juggle a baby on my boob and balance on one foot while pulling a stinger out of my other foot, all the time yelling at Big to come back. Little, of course, took this moment to pull herself off of me, so now my boob is hanging out for the entire world to see. Thankyouverymuch. I pulled the stinger out, pulled my shirt closed as best as I could and hobbled over to the toddler playground. Got Big to come back & sit with me until I was done nursing. “A’s” mom left not too much after that; “They still take naps.” Yeah, I bet they do and you need to get away from that crazy lady who is letting her kid run around in her underwear and flashing everyone her right boob.

Think they’ll let me in the playgroup?

Happy New...Meh

I know that being a new year & all, I'm supposed to be all reflective & stuff. Meh. I want to set resolutions this year, (which is really a first for me to be honest).  And there's a litany of obvious items I want to resolve to change, but really, I can't be bothered to think that hard about it.  Doesn't say much for how well I would keep said resolutions, does it? 
My real issue, is that I'm not sure exactly what my issue is.  (I'm a freaking one-man philosophy course.)  I want, no need to lose weight.  My current status is beyond embarrassing.  I've basically put on 10 lbs every year for the past four years.  No, that's not exactly how it happened.  Yeah, I (obviously) contributed to it.  (As I shove a doughnut in my pie hole.  No, not really, but hey, did someone say doughnuts???)  But it also happened/started in relation to something that happened TO me, (herniated disc/surgery).  For some reason, I can NOT get past that.  It seems that all my "issues" come down to that problem; "I didn't have fun getting this way.  It's not fair and therefore I shall ignore it and hope it goes away!"  When it doesn't go away, I shall have an adult-style temper-tantrum; and eat my feelings.  (They all taste like chocolate, how lucky for me.)  What might take most people years of therapy to get to, I've managed to boil down in a single paragraph.  Look, at the money I'm saving!  As usual, I can see, hear, touch, and taste the problem, but I don't know how to get to it emotionally.  Therefore, I'm not really sure how to fix it. 
Maybe it's that you don't really "fix" it.  Maybe, just maybe, the answer is that you "fake it till you make it."  You act like whatever it is you want (a size 6 waist,) and eventually you get there be default.  Obviously, if it's my weight, I need to start eating like a supermodel if size 6 really were the goal.  It's not. But you get the idea.
In that vein, (faking it,) here are the things I'd like to change in some manner this year:

Lose weight (diet & exercise)
Pursue something more serious w/my photography (actually get some info on how to do that.)
Be able to do more physically w/my kids (exercise)
Stop feeling like I'm stalled out (I feel like I'm waiting for something to happen, but I don't know what & it makes me feel stymied.)

One thing to note.  Usually, I'm more or less a mess at this point after the holidays.  I did pull back on a LOT this year.  And, as of right now, (even though I don't want to jinx it,) I think it's worth noting, that I'm more or less holding it together.  (knockingonwood)  One thing I do know is that I really, really need to listen to my body.  If it's telling me it's too tired, it's too tired.  I'm not going to get a 2nd wind.  That's just not how it works for someone like me. (Someone w/Fibromyalgia.)  I'm a slow learner, but I'm getting better at listening to my body and heeding the warnings it gives me.  Maybe, THAT is key to all of this & I just need to be patient and see how it all unfolds.

Christmas Chaos (No More?)

 
I'm a big proponent of the less is more philosophy, but was raised in a "more is more" household.  That's not to say I don't appreciate all that I have or was given, because I do.  A couple years ago, I got fed up with all the "expectations" of what we should do and who we need to see and exchange gifts with.  I wasn't alone & luckily, my SIL and I were able to convince my mom to make some changes.  We stopped doing the Christmas day race; open gifts at home, race to g'mas to open more gifts, quickly put away all gifts & clean up bc guests were coming for early dinner, while being yelled at to hurry up.  Screw that.  We now celebrate/open gift w/G'parents a day or two before Christmas.  We nosh on tapas that everyone contributes and can take our time to open & appreciate what we've received.  It's a much better way to go.  Christmas morning is just our immediate family, so we can sit around in our pjs all morning and enjoy our time together.  This year, we even had Christmas Eve "off" as the hosts of the dinner we usually attend have moved a few hours away.  We decided to opt out bc we didn't want the kids to be up too late.  We were thinking we'd drive around to see the Christmas lights at some of the more dedicated homes in our area.  Instead, we had an impromptu dinner w/neighbors.  Turned out to be one of the best Christmas Eve's ever.  Kids all played together, I made mulled wine & we got properly tossed.  Very fun.  My folks even toned down the gifts this year.  They spent the same amount as usual, (I'm sure,) but when w/the focus on quality instead of quantity.  In the past, the kids have gotten "present fatigue."  This year was pretty much right on.  After opening gifts, all the cousins piled into a back bedroom to play.  They played some with their new gifts, but really, they played with each other.  They get it too, the part of this really being about having fun together.

For many years now, we've gone to see the Nutcracker Ballet.  This year, the Girl Scouts took care of that one for me.  We had a tour of the theater; including the back stage, large props (& how they work,) old costumes and practice stage.  Then we had a hour to eat dinner and then all watched the ballet together.  It was a late night, but the girls really loved it, and it was fun to go with our friends as well.

Christmas in the Park is another tradition we try to take part in every year.  Unfortunately, I got sick the week school got out.  My parents took pity on me (or maybe on my girls,) and took them to go see the event one evening.  (It's way more fun at night.) Not only did my kids get to do the Park at night, (like they wanted.) I was free to curl up on the couch with a blanket and not feel bad about feeling bad. 

We added something new this year.  New for my girls, but sort of a revived tradition for myself.  When I was a kid we would head up to Union Square in San Francisco every December to go see the store windows.   It's crowded and parking is lousy and forget it, if the weather isn't cooperating.  This year I was offered tickets to see "The Grinch, The Musical."  I thought the girls might really like it, so I said yes and invited my mom to join us.  The day of, I was kicking myself for getting us involved in it.  I had tons still to do and had no business driving up to The City.  The musical was awesome and my girls LOVED it.  In hindsight, I'm really glad we went.  The weather was perfect, we got their early, and got nearby parking.  We had time to see some of the store windows and each lunch before the performance.  We had ice cream at Macy's after and when we came out, the Christmas tree was lit up.  It really was a fun day.  I believe it's going to be added to the list of traditions that will continue on each year.

Lastly, one of the big traditions my mom has been big on continuing is Christmas baking.  I have the best kitchen set up for all of us to do this together, so it's at my house.  The day before, I mentioned to DaddySpeak that we were baking at our house & to say he was not pleased, might be a bit of an understatement.  He then voiced that his concern was that I'm always a wreak after we're done.  If it were just the baking or just the cleanup, I'd probably be ok, but all of it together does me in.  I realized he was right.  It was silly of me to kill myself for baked goods that will probably mostly get tossed anyway.  I'd already purchased a gingerbread village, so the girls could decorate, because decorating is really what they're most intersted in doing.  So, I decided not to bake.  I think it might not have been something my mom was thrilled about. But you know what?  I was fine.  I helped the girls with decorating their houses.  I helped my  mom & SIL w/their cookies.  And guess what? I was ok that night & the next day.  Totally doing that again.  One of the smartest moves I've made yet.  For the neighbors we usually exchange baked good with; I printed up 5x7s of their kids that I'd taken over the year & wrote in their cards, "Some people bake, I take pictures."  I got personal thank yous from each of them, so I think it was a hit.

I took a lot on, with being the room mom for LittleSpeak's class.  But I did manage to pace myself this year.  The kids still got to do everything they wanted. And I'm not a complete loss now.  In fact, today we all went bike riding, as a family.  Someone remind me to read this in October next year. This has been a great way to end this year.

All I Want For Christmas Is A Full Night's Sleep

So Mir, wrote this post that pretty much encompasses how I'm feeling right now. 

Since beginning of November, (right after our trip to Maui,) I've been feeling overwhelmed.  It's been building and is more or less coming to a head this week.  I'm averaging about 4 hours of sleep a night.  Six day of this, so I'm kinda a mess right now. 

Required Annual Santa Pix
Check!

Usually, I'm more or less done w/my shopping by December First.  This year, I started my list on Monday.  December 5.  Gah!  I'm pretty organized about it, Thank Gawd!  If I wasn't I'd probably be institutionalized by now.  I have spreadsheet of everyone I buy for and add new columns for each year.  It has columns for item purchased, budgeted amount & actual dollars spent. I can see how much we're spending each year and where we can cut back if needed.  But, this year, I'm having trouble w/what to get everyone.  I've sat staring at the list for several nights now.  I'm working on it, and it's getting done, but I'm nervous that it's ALL going to happen before the actual holiday.  I'm pretty sure the gifts that have to be sent are either going to be way over budget (shipping charges,) or be more like New Year's gifts.  Maybe even Lunar New Year, at the pace I"m keeping.  I'm also doing a lot of online ordering bc I can't get away from my kids.  My Fibro isn't great (lack of sleep and cold weather contributing,) so I've managed to go on three shopping trips so far.  (1 a day.)

Part of my problem is that my mom is one of those people who thinks Christmas should be nothing short of a "Norman Rockwell-esk" event.  (It's been drilled into me, and I'm getting over it, but old habits die hard.)  A few years back, us kids rebelled & told my mom to pick a day BEFORE Christmas to celebrate as a family. (She goes nuts w/the amount of gifts they bestow on the kids, so it takes a while to get through them all.)  We were tired of getting up at the butt-crack of dawn to do Santa gifts & rush through our families' opening of gifts on Christmas morning. Just so that we could rush through gifts at her house before all the extraneous relatives showed up.  We were lucky to have a cup of coffee, much less breakfast during those years.  Moving it to an earlier date, has taken some of the heat off, but not all. 

It's also important that we participate in several family traditions.  I'm not taking issue w/these.  For the most part, I want to do this stuff and want my girls to have these experiences.  Mostly, I'm just bitching bc it's my blog and I can, (neener-neener- neener,) and bc this is part of what makes me feel like I'm going to lose my ever-loving mind.  There are three "must-do" Christmas related activites: 1) Christmas in the Park, 2) Nutcracker Ballet and 3) Christmas baking.   This year, BigSpeak's brownie troop took part in a special showing of the Nutcracker, so we got to go to a tour of the back stage, costumes and props departments before the performance.  Had an hour dinner break, and then got to see the actual performance.  (I'm pretty sure, it was their dress rehearsal.)   Kudos to the Girl Scouts for arranging that one for me.  Christmas baking has become my thing in the past few years.  Not because I love to bake, but because I have best kitchen for all of us to work in.  I mentioned to DaddySpeak that the baking event is occurring Saturday, and he rolled his eyes & muttered under his breath.  (I believe that he feels about Christmas the same as what he feels toward Disney.  Told you I married the anti-Christ. I think Christmas would be okay, but it comes right in the middle of college football AND basketball seasons! Yeah, he's not real motivated to participate in anything else.)  I told him the girls had actually been pestering me about doing it.  To which he replied, he was fine with it, but he's not fine w/how I'm always wreaked for days after.  And he's right.  I had already purchased a "gingerbread village" for the girls to put together & decorate.  (All they really care about is the decorating anyway.)  I decided that I'm not going to bake.  I might use some refrigerator dough & cook a few batches, maybe.  I'll helping the girls decorate.  No one cares if I make cookies or not. Except my mom, so I'm not telling her till she gets here.  Not participating in the actual baking would throw off her Rockwell vibe.  The last thing is "Christmas in the Park."  It's really cool and we try to get to it every year, but it is the same every year.  Last year my parents were upset that we weren't taking the girls, so they took them.  I liked that version.  I think they should continue doing that & make it the new tradition.  Personally, I'm not all that into hanging out in the cold.  A few years ago, DaddySpeak and I mapped out the best local decorated houses & take the girls to see them.  We've hit Vasona's Fantasy of Lights, in past years, but it's pretty crowded & it had more cache w/the girls when they were younger.    I think there's something extra cool about seeing a house or entire street all decorated.  Even though we know it's there, there's still something unexpected about it, that makes it seem cooler.

I hadn't written anything, bc I was feeling so overwhelmed.  Maybe getting it all out there will help and I'll start sleeping again. 

Yes, There is a Santa Claus....

My 8yo happily believes.  A friend outed Santa to her last year.  She told me about it & I asked her what she thought.  She reasoned out why her friend was wrong!  I'm sure there's a part of her that knows, but obviously, she wants to believe for now.  And I'd be lying if I didn't admit I'm pleased she still does.  I'm starting to wonder if the 5yo is going to know before her though; she had questions about the characters at amusement parks recently; "They're just people dressed up as that character, aren't they?"  However, she was hard to contain when we went into a mall week before Thanksgiving & spotted Santa.  She HAD to go see him & tell him how much she loved him! Her devotion is somewhat troubling. When you put it in the context that we're basically encouraging her sit on a strange man's lap, and take pictures with him.  It makes me VERY uncomfortable, but I do love that they believe in magic, so I try not to think about it TOO hard.  In the case of both girls, our local mall has helped me out by providing a skylight that is best viewed from the Santa photo booth.  You can just see the tops of the reindeer's antlers in the skylight.  That's where he parks his sleigh, you know.  A few years ago, we go an Elf on a Shelf.  If I'd thought it through, I may not have signed up for that one.  You have to move the guy every night!  And I make sure to keep him up high so that neither of the girls can get to him, because if they touch him, he'll "lose his magic!"  And if the elf lost his magic, that would kinda put a damper on Christmas.  I was smart enough to make sure Elfie (girls' named him,) doesn't show up till December 1st, so there's at least one less week of that to deal with.  At the end, I'm scrambling for places to put him.  That first year of Elfie, was when Big was 4.  She, naturally, wanted to know, "why didn't Elfie come to visit us before that year?"  I quickly concocted an great answer; "When I was pregnant with you, we signed up to get a house elf for Christmas.  There's a limited number of house elves and we were placed on a waiting list.  We didn't realize the wait list was THREE YEARS long!  So we were lucky to get one, when we did."  As much as I complain sometimes about the maintenance of Elfie,  I do love the excitement of the girls trying to locate him each morning.  I need to remember that, I know the days of magic are numbered.

I think, part of the reason Big still believes has to do with the tale I've got going for them.  We also celebrate the religious aspect of Christmas, and I've explained to my girls that Santa gives to them because he was so taken w/God sending us his son as Baby Jesus that he wanted to show his love and gratitude to God as well. We are NOT super religious, but I think knowing that someone beside their parents loves them unconditionally is part of what makes the "lie" believable.  There's much comfort in knowing there's an adult out there, who loves you, even though he's never met you.  When the time comes I hope to handle the subject with half as much grace as Martha did here.  But I've also done some research of my own.  I plan to direct them to websites that talk about St. Nicolas and the legends that surround Santa.  And, like Martha, I plan to show them how to make the magic continue for all of us who believe.

Not Quite a Train Wreck & Happy Halloween!

We have a Rainbow Fairy & a Pirate this year.

Last Saturday, was our school's big fundraiser.  We actually only have one, so saying it's "big" is somewhat redundant.  It's a Fall Festival, which includes a costume parade, carnival games, inflatables, food; including a chili cook-off & cake decorating, a haunted house, and silent auction.  I think I missed a few things, but you get the idea.  It's a BIG. FREAKING. DEAL.  Each class puts together a "basket" for the silent auction.  This task is put on the room parent...and now you know where I'm going with this one.  LittleSpeak's class did something fairly low-key; we decorated a tote w/all the kids hand-prints and had each child bring in a new copy of a favorite book.  I put together a list of the books as a 'book-club' recommended reading list, and we included gift-certificates to Barnes & Nobel and Starbucks.  It wasn't a huge deal and I had lots of help, so it seemed mundane.  I, sort of, blew it on the day of HFN.  I volunteered to pass out pre-paid tickets/bracelets from 1-3.  The parade, which kicks off the event, starts at 4.  I thought I was so smart, getting my volunteer hours before the actual event.  I did not, however, consider the fact that I was going to be at the school from 1 in the afternoon.  So, at 3, DaddySpeak, brought the girls over to the school so I could apply "make-up" and finishing touches on their costumes.  Everything went well.  The girls had a blast, the school raised tons of money.  (We personally "won" 3 of the baskets, which means I have more than done my part for the school this year.  AND quite possibly I've finished some of my Christmas shopping.)
By 8 PM though, we were shot.  We walked home, put the girls to bed and collapsed on the couch.  Big was supposed to go to CCD at 8:30, but I couldn't get her to wake up.  I could've forced the issue w/her, but I could see she was in the middle of a dream.  I decided she needed sleep more than religion that morning.  The fact that my whole body felt like it had been run over might have contributed to that decision.  The short version; I overdid it and spent my Sunday in bed.  More details?  I used up most of my spoons for the week.  Sadly, quite a few things like dentist & doctor visits had been pushed to this week bc we were so busy leading up to the event. 
We made our appointments, but lets just say I wasn't winning any beauty contests this week.  Sweats and baseball hats were the wardrobe rule, and anything I could schedule out, (working in classrooms,) walking in the morning, grocery shopping, cooking diner, etc...was put off.  I did not win any domestic medals this week.  I need to remember to pad my week after events like this.  I tend to get burned by this kind of stuff.  You'd think I'd remember, but it's like my brain loses those part of the memories.  We survived.  The house, laundry and food situation could be better.  But honestly, they've been worse, (not that I'm proud of that).

I started to write this post on Wednesday of this week.  It was supposed to be about what a mess I was this week.  And I was, a mess.  But now that I'm at the next weekend, I'm actually able to be more objective about it.  Yeah, no one is putting the merits of my domestic skills in a magazine.  But I got the stuff done, I had to.  I listened to my body and rested when I could.  And I had enough stuff in the freezer and with leftovers that we, (Daddy,) made a decent dinner for all each night.  So instead of being a train wreak, maybe I'm just a car accident?  (KNOCK ON WOOD!) I guess that's progress, right?

My So-Called Trip to Vegas

I'm dying to write about my weekend.  I went to a Digital Scrapbooking "Fest."  I've been telling my In Real Life, (IRL,) friends, that it's a 'digital graphics users group.'  It is, and if they had a Public Relations, (PR,) person, the organizers might know that.  I suspect it would've been much more costly though; good PR people are expensive after all.  ;-)  They want to call it a "Fest," if it's keeping prices down, I'm all for it.

So, I spent the weekend in "Vegas Baby!" (You have to say it like that you know.) And I didn't even put a nickle in a slot.  Ha! That would imply there were nickle slots.  I didn't put a quarter or dollar even, then!  Honestly, there was a time period, approximately 11 years ago, when the thought of going to Vegas would've made me cry.  I worked for a chip maker and had to go to Vegas about every two months for their tradeshow circuit.  I grew to loath the place.  I could have and should have written a travel book on the place, because my knowledge on what to do and not to do was vast, but like I said, it would be too soon if I'd never gone there again. When DaddySpeak, (DS) found out where I was going he was shocked.  I told him I didn't burst into tears at the thought, so there's that.  Guess I'm past my PTSD finally.  ;-)  I did have fun, but it was actually a bit stressful, not because of the conference.  I suppose, the stressful part of my trip put any issues I might have had related to the conference into perspective.  I traveled w/LittleSpeak's Godmom, H.  Her husband, A came as well.  He was going to gamble while we were in classes and they could go out at night.  About two hours after we arrived, we convinced him to go to a see a doctor at walk-in clinic.  He had a really bad cold & he looked and sounded awful.  He had planned to get a day pass at the spa we were going to, but instead agreed to go to a walk-in clinic which was right off the strip.  (My knowledge of this place, it still applies.)  So H & I went to the Spaaaaaaa.  It was the same spa I went to w/DS a year and a half ago.  I was afraid it wasn't going to be as good.  I was sure I'd built it up in my mind to be much better than it really was, but I was not disappointed.  It was amazing & relaxing.  Exactly what I needed.  Our plan was that when we got done, we were going to shower & head to the opening reception for our "Fest."  It didn't work out that way.  Well, it did for me.  Poor H, had 4 texts from A about all the places they were sending him from the walk-in clinic; the last one being that they were going to admit him to the hospital.  H didn't shower or anything, she threw her clothes on and headed to the hospital.  I was able to check-in for her at the reception and told them what was happening with her.  The reception seemed so weird to me.  My head was really more over at the hospital with them.  I was getting updates from H.  Apparently, Friday night at the ER closest to the Vegas Strip is a bit sketchy, who woulda thunk?  They did release A with strict instructions to take his antibiotics and get lots of rest.  They'd hydrated him and administered IV antibiotics.  Told him they'd caught the pneumonia  early, so he should bounce back pretty quick.  They got back to the hotel about 9:00 PM.   On Saturday, I woke to the sound of my cell phone buzzing.  It seems that around 3:30 AM, H realized that A wasn't getting any sleep and seemed to be not breathing very well at all.  They had headed back to the ER.  She was updating me with their happenings since that time.  At, 5:45 AM, when I woke up, the doctors had declared he needed to be admitted for 2-3 days.  His oxygen saturation was extremely low, so low, that when I discussed it w/DS he was sure I heard it wrong.  He couldn't believe that A was functioning at all w/a saturation so low.  I confirmed it w/H 3 times though, it really was that low.  A was actually stuck in ER for 14 HOURS on Saturday.  The hospital was so crazy busy that they couldn't get him to a room w/a bed.  When they finally did, he was so bad that they put him ICU.  H missed the Saturday classes and tour we had planned.  She got home late that night, once things had more or less stabilized with A.  On Sunday, things seemed a bit better.  She went over to see him in the morning and they had just managed to break his (very high,) fever w/an ice bath.  After an hour or so, things seemed to moving in the right direction and he had fallen asleep, so H came back to the hotel and we got lunch.  We went back to the conference room and started to cut papers on  a hybrid project we'd (myself & other attendees,) worked on that morning.  I figured she could get some of it done and I'd finish whatever didn't happen for her.  At least she'd walk away with something, right?  Only while we were doing that, she got a text from A implying they might discharge him that afternoon.  Some of his "bloodwork had come back very positive."  H was packing up to head back to the hospital and called him to find out what was going on.  (He'd been in no shape to leave when she'd left him that morning.  He was better, but the guy was still requiring oxygen to breathe.)  While she was talking to him on the phone, he was overcome w/the shakes.  No fever, just uncontrollable shakes.  Not long after H got the hospital, he finally spiked a fever around 103.7.  They'd given him meds to try and knock it down, but he couldn't keep them down.  They had to used ice packs and IV meds to try and get the fever under control.  They did get it back down, but there was no mistaking he wasn't going anywhere soon.  I forget what time H got back that night, but it wasn't early.   Monday, was the day we were all supposed to come home.  I attended the closing of the "Fest," while H updated me via text from the hospital.  A was still running a low-grade fever, he was still on oxygen and he obviously wasn't flying anywhere that day.  But, he seemed to be slightly better.  He even got out of bed and walked around the nurses desk w/H.  Then he fell asleep exhausted.  I was VERY torn about leaving H and A.  If something awful happened, H had no one there with her.  If my folks weren't traveling overseas, it would've been a no brainer, I would've stayed.  But, as it was, I had to ask my Sister-In-Law to pick up the girls from school.  I offered to stay, (it was via text,) but I don't know if H never got it, or just didn't reply.  All the medal in the hospital and casinos made it so that we didn't always get our text in a timely manner.  Luckily, things really were improving.  A was discharged last night and they flew home today, Wednesday.  I actually haven't talked to them since they've gotten here.  The last text I got was when they were boarding the plane.  I know they're both exhausted, so it can wait.  He's still very, very sick.  She's got to go back to work and they have four year old twins to deal with too.  I'm still reeling from this weekend and I'm not the one who spent all the time in the hospital worrying about my husband.  I can NOT imagine how overwhelmed they must be feeling.  So, if you would, please say a little prayer, or light a candle or send the good karmic vibes.  They could use it right about now.

Also, go give the people you love a hug.  It's so easy to forget how fragile life can be. 

In my next post, I might actually talk about what I did, beside text w/H all weekend. ;-)

Learning to Love

When I read this, I kept thinking about all the crushes kids at this age, (around ages 4-8ish,) have;  lots of boys want to marry their mommy's & girl's their daddy's  (I suspect visa versa too.)  Many, many kids have crushes on their kindergarten teachers.  No one thinks much of these "school kid crushes."  They're considered normal.  This is the way in which a child at this age processes love for the people they know.  I know both my girls claim they are never moving out.  They'll just move their families into our house with us.  They can't even imagine wanted to live away from home for college.  This makes me laugh, because, I suspect, they will be "chomping at the bit" to get out by that time.  And I do hope they're excited when it's their turn.  But they're kids and they can't imagine loving someone any more than they love us right now. As they get older their world gets bigger, and so does their idea of what love is.  My point is, that I totally agree with the author.  She's right, we should imagine as if all of our kids are being targeted by the hateful anti-gay rhetoric.  Even people who "aren't anti-gay" but are against gay-marriage need to stop deluding themselves.  While you might not be a hateful person, the message you send our kids is that they aren't equal.  And that is not okay. 

When the whole prop 8 thing started here in CA, it was interesting to me how many of our neighbors posted pro-prop 8 signs in their yards.  Churches were passing them out at their services.  To me it felt like they were going out of their way to point out their feelings.  So, in turn, several of us made calls & got anti-prop 8 signs for our yards.  Listen, I'm fine with the whole we can agree to disagree thing, but not when it comes to my child's self-esteem.  If it turns out, a child of mine is gay, then I want them to know that I will not tolerate them being treated differently. I will fight for them and their rights always.  I'm their parent and they are my child above all else.  There are no conditions on that.  That's why they call it unconditional love.  At the time of the prop 8 discussion, an older family member indicated that they "weren't anti-gay, but they just didn't think they (the gays,) should be allowed to marry.  They can have civil unions, why do they need marriage?"  I have to admit was I was shocked.  There are several people in our extended families who feel this way, but I was surprised by this person.  This person wanted to "agree to disagree," but I was really having a hard time with leaving it like that.  I finally asked them, "What if one of your grandchildren is gay?  Do you want any of them to be told they are a lesser person because of that?  Do you think it's okay to deny them the right to a marriage? They already legally can be on each others' health care, have children together, purchase a home together, (which is harder than any of those other things,) so why not marriage?"  Initially, the person wanted to drop it, so I let it go, but I made it clear I didn't like it.  The day after the election this person told me that they voted against prop 8.  The idea made them uncomfortable because of what they've been told are their life.  But when I put it in the framework of their own grand kids, whom they love and cherish and truly just want them to be happy, that made them realize they could live with uncomfortable.  Their grand kids deserved more."
Are either of my children gay?  I don't know, neither do they, they're too young to know.  What I do know, is that they are loved no matter what, and I will not tolerate people judging them harshly on that subject.  I know that any "crushes" they have at this age are just a normal part of growing.  It tells me we're doing something right; our children know how to love.

Monday Moring

I do get the irony that my blog is named "Mommy Speaks," yet I haven't been saying so much for the last several months.  Life is hard dude.  I often feel like I start feeling better, but when I start to participate in real life, I end up falling on my face.  It's that fine line I've mentioned; the one where you need to do just enough to help yourself move forward and feel better.  If I stay on that line, I'm OK, when I cross it....splat.
For me it seems like everything is ok, until it's not, but that's not totally true.  I take on extra responsibilities, which is fine at that time.  But then my sleep starts getting messed with, and little by little it chips away at my energy reserves.  My pain starts showing up again...and it feels like it's sudden, but really it's been building for several weeks.  I'm better at recognizing it.  I make myself slow down, back off, get to bed earlier, but eventually, it's not enough.  So, that's why I've been very spotty in my attention to writing.  It's too bad, because my writing is a big outlet for me.

I just reread my last post about "thriving."  I know, I jinxed my self in writing that.  BigSpeak being sick and DaddySpeak being out for a week is what started me onto my current status of lack of sleep and pain. (LittleSpeak waking me 2-3x a night is also part of the problem.) I play catch up a lot on the weekends, but this weekend was worse than most week days.  Monday morning, we all overslept,  Little too.  It's the first time this year, and I was able to get the girls to their classes w/out having to check in tardy, so that's still leaps & bounds from last year.  (I think I'd already gotten a letter from the school at this point last year.) I hate that feeling of being behind.  You know the one that comes w/a morning like ours; you're rushing around, can't find the things you need, going to be late regardless... I've had that rushed/hopeless feeling since sometime last week.  This morning's episode did not improve it.  Today, I'm trying to basically do nothing.  Right now, I'm on the couch, trying to find the least painful position.  My afternoon is full of doctor's appointments and lessons (for the kids,) so that doing nothing is relative to the time of day.  I'm heading to a scrapbook conference this weekend.  I'm excited to go, but I'm also really nervous for my family; getting to all the places they need to be.  I wish there was a way I could be reassured that would happen.  I also want to make sure I can do all the things I want to do on my trip too (spa time).  I need this feeling to go away, so I can enjoy what's going on around me right now. 

Mean (Little) Girls...and Boys

We're into our 4th week of school, (I think).  Things seem to be going well.  BigSpeak really likes her teacher, as expected.  LittleSpeak is thriving.  And, knock on wood, but I seem to be doing pretty well.  My cocktail of meds seems about right.  I have small set backs; Big was home sick all of last week, and DaddySpeak was out of town for work, but I didn't collapse.  I had to scale back a bit this week to recover, but I seem to be doing well.  I feel like we're finally thriving, instead of just surviving.  It's a nice feeling.  I hope it lasts. 
One thing that's new is the stories Little has been coming home from school with every day.  At first I thought she was embellishing, as she's prone to do.  But as the days pass, and each day I get a similar tale, I'm starting to think maybe most of it is true.  Little's class seems to have an awful lot of chiefs and almost no Indians. Everyday she comes home with a story of how E told K she can't be in their club-du-jour.  Or how D threw his blocks at the teacher when she told him it was time to clean up.  Every day I hear how A told the teacher, he "hates school and the rules." 

What the heck???  Who are these kids???

I'm not sure if it's because this grade has a lot of siblings or if we're just paying more attention, but none of that type of stuff EVER came up in Big's class.  They were what you would expect of five year old boys and girls.  They were mostly sweet and very young.  This group?  These kids are like five going on fifteen.  

Little tells me these stories, pointing out, of course, how she isn't the perpetrator in any of these cases.  I fear, in fact, that she's one of the "good" kids. Which is really kinda scary for her teacher.  We know how strong-willed Little can be, and I think she might not hold a candle to some of these kids.  In fact, she has been a "victim" of the Mean Girls on more than one occasion.  (I've witnessed it going on during Big kid pick up.)  When I saw it happening to her, I wasn't entirely surprised.  The major culprit is a neighbor and Little and her are "hot & cold."  They're either the best of buds, or ready to go to blows.  Honestly, I'm not that crazy about this other girl, but Little seems to hold her own, so I'm going along for now.  The last time I saw the Mean Girl action occurring, I called her over and confirmed what I was seeing.  ("E says I can't be in their club because all their shoes flash and mine don't. It hurts my feelings.")  Little doesn't take it lying down either.  She gets all up in E's face, points her finger and tells her off.  And while her feelings are hurt, she doesn't turn into a puddle AT ALL.  But, anyone's self-esteem is going to take a hit at some point, so last time I saw this and called her over, this was our conversation?

"Ummm, yeah.  Little, first of all, there are NO CLUBS at school.  The only clubs that exist are ones that ANYONE can be in.  If they exclude someone, then that's not fair, or nice and it's a form of bullying.  There is NO Bullying allowed at school." 
"Also, E is not your firend."

Yeah she is mommy. And I want to play pink pony tag." (Or whatever crap they're into that day.)

"No Little, she's not.  A friend doesn't put conditions on being included.  A friend doesn't care if you have flashing shoes, or any shoes for that matter.  A friend, sees you have different shoes, and either points out how it's cool you're different.  Or suggests everyone take of their shoes, and be equal.  When she talks to you like that she's not being your friend.  Tell her you want to play, but not if she's going to be mean.  Then walk away and find someone who is a friend." 


They're FIVE!  It's gonna be a long year is all I'm saying.

Remember...and pay it forward

There's so much emotion for this day.  I feel like the whole world, or at least all of the US, we're holding our breath.  Just hoping to get through this day.  Through the memorials, the reminders of how much time has passed and how much hasn't.  Ten years can feel like a life time and a blink of the eye.  Ten years ago, I was newly married.  I remember at some point during the day, watching the TV, thinking, the year I was married will be remembered for this awful tragedy.  Such a happy time in my life was marred by such blackness.  It was a selfish thought.  So many had lost so much and I was concerned about myself.  At that point, I was allowed that kind of selfishness.  I was young and in love and all I needed to worry about was me.  And that's how it should be at that point in your life.  Watching the attacks on September 11, 2001 changed who I am, and how I approach things.  I lost a large part of innocence.  I know that sounds so cliche, but it's true.  I feel like something in me broke that day.  How could people hate so much, that they would kill others to show that hate?  Not just one or two crazy guys, a whole group of them, willing to carry out such an awful deed.  You could argue, that in someways the people in the buildings were of no consequence to them because they would never see them.  They were the nameless, faceless enemy to them.  But the people on the planes? They sat by them.  There were kids on those planes.  How can you be willing to hurt them?  I still can't wrap my head around it.
When the first tower fell, it was so surreal.  It was like you were waiting for an announcer to break in and say it was a movie, and now that you were hooked in, you had to come see how it ends.  Only it wasn't a movie. It was real.  I remember as that first tower fell thinking, "Oh my God, there are still people in there.  There are emergency personal who ran in to help and they can't be out yet." And everywhere you went that day, the image of those planes, the buildings, where all you saw or heard about.  We went into work that day, but no one did much.  Most people spent the day trying to contact loved ones on the East Coast and watching the footage on the Internet.  I have family in New York, they contacted my parents in relative short order & informed us of who was where and that they were safe.  We were learning of what a mess the communications were there, so much of it was linked to the buildings.  We were grateful to know they were okay and that they were able to tell us so. It would not be that easy for some many others. After several days, I had to stop watching TV and listening to the radio.  I think they call it "catastrophe porn."  It's like you're hooked on the image of the terror.  We've seen it with other situations, where the media play images of tragedy over and over and over again.  In this case, it didn't desensitize, or numb you.  In this case, it just made you feel sad and helpless.
I spiraled into depression after September 11, 2001.  It was the last straw, in my case.  It's really hard for me to see all the footage again.  I'm doing my best to minimize it.  I don't want to feel that sense of helplessness or hopelessness again.  It's hard for me to think about this event without feeling that way.  I have kids now.  I don't have the luxury to wallow in that kind of pain. 
What I do want to remember is how Americans behaved for the next several months.  People were generally nicer to each other.  We stopped cutting each other off in traffic.  We held the door or elevator for each other.  We made eye contact and smiled at each other.  On airplanes, the pilots asked us to greet each other.  We weren't nameless or faceless, perhaps if that had been the case, the terrorists might not have been as inclined to act.  It seemed everyone had a picture of an American flag in their rear car window.  We collectively agreed that life was too short and that we were going to show those who hated us that they were wrong about us.  We're naive about how the rest of the world views us.  We're brought up to believe that everyone is jealous of us and wishes they could be American.  Not true, by a long shot.  But the thing that is true, is that we are strong and we have each others' backs.  The terrorists assumed we were weak and afraid of death, but they were wrong.  The people on Flight 93 showed them that while we don't have a death wish, we will protect our own however we need to.  The emergency personal who ran into those buildings to get people out; showed them, that we will sacrifice if that's what required of us.  Our spirit and resolve is strong.  I can't explain to my kids why those people had so much hatred that they wanted to hurt us so badly.  But I can show them, that most people are generally good.  And when it comes down to it, good always wins. 
I know we're supposed to pause in memory at 8:46 EST.  We'll be asleep here on the West Coast.  But I'm going to try to remember the sense of family we had for months after.  I'm going to let people in, in traffic.  I'll hold the door for them. This week, I'll go donate blood.  Maybe pay for the coffee of the guy behind me at Starbucks.  I'm going to pay it forward tomorrow;  And the next day and the next.  Because the terrorists didn't win 10 years ago.  And they don't win today either.  I hope you'll pay it forward this week too.

10 Years

I'm watching all these upcoming memorials for the 10th anniversary of 9/11. I'm torn about how this makes me feel. This 10th anniversary is going to be hard for me. It's what prompted me to write after not feeling like I needed to for a month or so. So much of writing here is for me, to help me work through things in my mind. Help me see the forest for the trees, so to speak. I've been feeling tired enough, but well enough, not to need the therapy that writing is for me. I'd been able to exercise and sleep w/out needing to write. That's huge for me. I fear that this anniversary may set me back some. I hope not. The time period after 9/11 was a very dark time for me. I didn't lose anyone I knew. But still I felt the pain of the day so deeply. I still do. I'd managed to put it behind a closed door in my mind. Then a week ago, I was walking through a book store, and the display of all the 9/11 books was put up. It stopped me. Left a lump in my throat that hasn't really gone away. Made me realize how easy it was to just open that door and let those feelings overcome me again. I'm one of the lucky ones, if I had lost someone directly, I couldn't put it away like that. I don't know how those people have survived this long.
I just need to get that off my chest. I'm hoping this will be enough. I fear not, but maybe.

Progress

I'm still around. Just busy, and while at the beach exhausted. Too exhausted to deal w/PITA wifi issues. Busy living. So I did write some posts, but they never posted to the site. I'm debating if I should post them or not. I probably will, just after I get "caught up."

School has started. Little is in kindergarten, and as predicted, there's no living with her. Big has started 3rd grade. I'm working on figuring out schedules w/2 soccer teams, practices, dance classes, gymnastics, (maybe,) etc... I've been walking every day for a week now. That's big for me. My pain level has reduced significantly. Not always; like not this morning, because Little had me up half the night. But I believe (knock on wood) that my good hours are starting to out number the bad ones. I'm not sure the last time I felt like that; maybe when I was pregnant with Little. It's been a while. So there's that.

To The Winner - The Spoils

I told my husband, if he keeps bringing it up, he's taunting me into writing about it. It's already taking on epic proportions that will be an ongoing private joke between us.

Last night around 9:30ish, I was downstairs on my computer, editing photos, and skimming some rerun. He'd gone upstairs about 9 to take a shower before going to bed. I could hear him walking around, opening windows, etc...usual bedtime routine stuff. All the sudden, he comes racing down the stairs calling the dog. Poor Merit, was sound asleep next to me. She jumped up and was running to the front door barking before she was completely awake. You could see she was perplexed from the look on her face. Daddy was calling for her, so she was on it! He sent her out front barking. I assumed there must be two cats out front fighting or a raccoon or something. (He wouldn't send my preshus babah out after bad guys who could hurt her, right? Though, that might be better than a flea infested rat. Gah!) He called her right back in and closed the door.
"What's going on?"
"Teenagers!"
???
"There was a group of teenagers coming down the street w/toilet paper. They were going to TP L's house!" (Next door's teenage daughter.)
blank stare
???
"So I sent the dog after them."
"To lick them? Why did you stop them?"
"Well they weren't even being that stealthy about it. They have to at least try!"
??? "Did you tell them to get off your lawn too? What are you 80?"
Only now he was gone & out the front door again. A few minutes later he walks back in w/4-5 rolls of partially used TP.
"To the winner goes the spoils!"
"Wha?? What are you going to do w/that??"

That settles it, I'm buying him a cane, so he can raise it up and wave it at the kids as he tells them he'll keep any of the balls that land on his lawn.

Lately...

Girls had their dance recital today. Their dance school does a very extravagant one every other year; so this year was what they call an, "ice cream social." Dance school serves ice cream sandwiches at the end. They break it into 3 separate half hour shows so the little kids won't totally lose it, waiting around. Of course, that meant my two girls were in the first & the last of those three shows. We spent our day running around before & between shows; standard family stuff.

DaddySpeak and I had taken separate cars for the first show, because BigSpeak had to be there so much earlier for rehearsal. This meant no pain pills as I was driving. Between shows,I came home and felt frustrated because I'd, once again, picked things up as I left, to have them undone in the short time I was gone. I was also in a TON of pain. I started snapping at Daddy and the girls. He finally had, had enough and snapped back. He pointed out that he was dealing w/a leak in our roof all morning, but he "doesn't get credit for the stuff he does do, only the things I feel he missed." He was right. I apologized. I told him, "I'm just so frustrated. I do things and I feel like no one helps, and I know he does. I'm just frustrated by how I feel and how little I can do." He replied, "You're frustrated, I'm frustrated! There's been a lot of downside and very little up(side) these last three years."
He's right; only it's been 4 years. I hurt my back four years ago. I honestly don't know why he stays. I can't be very much fun to be around. I feel like I spend my days apologizing to him and the girls for all the things I can't do. Or the things I didn't do, so he has to pick up my slack. Between that, I'm yelling at him because I'm tired, in pain and frustrated, so I take it out on him.

Lately, I wonder if my family wouldn't be better off without me. I hold them back so much. I'm not fun to be around. Since I can't take the pain pills unless there's another adult around, I never get to the point of relief any more. I don't even eat dinner with them, by that time of the day my pain is so bad I'm flat on the couch. Sitting at a table is hard to consider. I lie on the couch, so I can be there and still be part of the dinner conversation. My reality for everything these days is, I get through it. I get through the day. I get through dinner. I get through their recitals, games, etc... It's not fair to them. They deserve more. They deserve a mom and a wife who can be present and happy. Who is more focused on taking their pictures, than how much longer till we're home for good and I can take something for pain and lie down.
This is not living. I don't want to pretend it is anymore.

Traveling Pants of the Fat-Arce Sisterhood

I'm not sure if I should glad or insulted.

Walked Big to school today and on our way home a neighbor stopped Little and I.

"What pants size do you wear? I have a really good reason for asking."
(What do you say to that?) I told her my size, (which I'm not sharing here, because it upsets me,) and then added, sigh "It's the largest I've ever been in my life."
"I wanted to know, because I thought so. That's the size I was and I've been having a really hard time losing it, hormones, but I've finally gotten to the point where I'm down a size and can't wear these anymore."
She continued, "A friend gave me these pants and they're really good pants. I had a really hard time when I had to dress for stuff, these saved me. I wanted to pass them on to someone else in need. When you're out of them, have lost the weight, (I know you will,) pass them on to someone else who might need them or you can give them to me and I'll pass them along to someone else."

Her intent was in the right place.
Maybe they're magical pants and now the weight will come off.

I'm back trying to tackle my weight and dealing with my Fibro, (FM) at the same time. If you've dealt with chronic pain, you know that taking on other challenges (losing a vice,) is doubly hard, because it's often the thing that gives you some level of comfort. I've had a really hard time wrapping my head around Low-Carb, (LC,) while on Weight Watchers. Problem is, I'll see something I want and know I have enough points and eat it. I seem to forget to deal with the carb issue till it impacts me negatively. At the very least, carbs are contributing to my FM, by making me bloated and uncomfortable. At the worst? They're part of the reason I'm having such bad symptoms. Things got bad enough this weekend where I realized that I would be willing to live on next to nothing if it would assure me a pain-free existence. Once I hit that point, it's not so hard to give up anything.

I just want to feel better.

Hello, I'm still here

Hellloooo!!!

I'm still alive! Things are...well, things mostly just are, that's all. I'm very day-to-day. I overdid Satuday & spent Sunday on pain pills in bed. Last two days have not been stellar; mostly waiting for DaddySpeak to get home so I can take a pain pill. Each day's a bit better than the next, until it's not. In the meantime, we had a softball season; BigSpeak's team came in 2nd overall! The outlaws came for a 2 week visit, during which LittleSpeak turned 5! (Christ-on-a-Cracker! How the heck did that happen???) and Big made her First Communion. This week Big turned 8!!! (I don't understand how these children are so big all the sudden!) (Also, you may have noticed, Big got 12" cut off her hair.) Today, is DaddySpeak & I's 10th anniversary. Woot! No, I don't know why he hasn't gone out for cigarettes, even though he doesn't smoke. I'm extremely thankful and lucky that he hasn't.
I know I haven't written in so long; it's just that I have really bad days and when I have moments (and that's all they are,) of ability to do something (laundry! dishes! my life is overflowing with excitement, no?) I tend to try and do stuff for the kids, instead of something for me. I have this sense that I'm failing my kids, but to date, I've only missed 2 of Big's games. I'm struggling not to let my Fibro be the thing that holds us back. I feel it, but so far I think they don't. They know I'm not well. They know mommy gets really grouchy sometimes (pain related). Overall, I don't think they feel much different about their living situation then their other friends.
So Hi! My doctor feels my meds are the right cocktail at the right times and it's just a matter of 3 steps forward, 2 steps back. It's really slow, but it is moving in a forward direction. Each of those things I mentioned deserved a post of it's own. Maybe they'll be forthcoming in the future (I can re-purpose scrapbook pages for those events. ;-) I'm nothing if not resourceful!
I think I'm at the top of this hill (knock on wood,) or at least, close to it. I'm hoping that I'm about to be on the downward slope soon.

My New CopyWriter...

I always take a quick peek, before bed, to see what Mir has posted. She's the writer I aspire to be; witty, pithy, funny...She's been having a rough time of it lately, and she's shared a lot of it with us. I know she doesn't share it all, she's good at setting boundaries for what is and isn't her story to tell. (Something I probably need to work on.) When I read the paragraph below, my mouth hit the ground; I've struggled to articulate where I'm at, why I'm frustrated and how lost it makes me all feel. Here she is putting it into a short paragraph, when I took up pages. The paragraphs after are my comments to her. Though, I kind of feel like I ought to give her crap for not writing this a day earlier. Would've saved all of us a lot of time and stress, no?

"I am somewhat prone to those sorts of rages. Sometimes I think I majored in righteous indignation in college. As we muddle through helping Monkey and the school deal with his meltdowns, every bewildered “He just gets so ANGRY” from someone who doesn’t quite get it is a little knife in my heart. Anger is a shielding emotion. It’s much easier to be angry than to be sad. Misery is vulnerable; outrage is invincible. I know why Monkey gets mad—being pissed at everyone still feels like being in control, while admitting that you feel lost and hopeless is a free-fall."

This paragraph is me right now. It's me I'm angry with; me and this damn FM. I'm angry w/everyone who doesn't understand, because I feel these are the people who should understand and should help me. I know, in my heart, they are doing the best that they can do. But the fact that I need more, make me sad, and scared...and angry.

I'm glad you have Otto, and I have my husband, who for all the bitching I do about him, is my rock in all of this. (And puts up with all my bitching.) I constantly apologize to him too. I can't understand why he puts up with me and all my shite. He wasn't family, he choose to be here, knowing what he was getting at the time too. (Mostly knowing, nobody really knows till you're physically living with it.) I know when he says he's not leaving he's not, it's just hard to believe when so many others do.

Thanks for giving a voice to feelings I have so much trouble expressing on my own.
Here's to the end of the week, and a large glass of wine.

And then I stepped in it....

I haven't really had the energy to write about my doctor's appointment, mostly because there really isn't anything new to report. I'll tell you more when there's more to tell. Basically, it went well, let's just leave it at that. So onto what that title is about...

My kids are on Spring Break this week. That's, at least part of, why, I haven't had the extra energy to write. Especially considering there really wasn't anything to write. Been doing my best to keep them busy and out of trouble. Simultaneously, trying not to overdo it. Blah, blah, blah...the usual blather I've been putting out lately.

Before I tell you what happened, I guess I need to provide a small amount of backstory here;

My brother's family is moving out of Silicon Valley. (Don't even get me started on my mom's reaction to this, to say she's not happy would be an understatement. She has trouble with change.) It's not my story to tell, so the long and short of it is this; they decided before things got any tighter, (budget-cuts,) they wanted to get into a smaller house payment. (No, they weren't having money problems! They just saw what was happening with public workers and did the long term math. They are being pro-active. I'm not making any kind of declaration about their financial situation; they are fine. They just want to stay that way.) They did some research and found an area they could better afford, with decent schools and from which they could still commute. That's the basics of it. They put their house on the market and it sold in like a week. Right now, most homes here are taking about 2 months to sell. They weren't entirely ready to move; read; kids are still in school. In the interim, they are living with my parents. It's temporary, and it was planned out. But it's obviously not the norm for my family. So that's your back story. My brother's family has recently moved in with my parents.

I think I mentioned a time or two before, that my mom and I have our issues. That many times those issues seem to be more about what she'd like to say to my brother or Sister-In-Law (SIL,) but instead says to me.

As I'm writing this, I do realize that I'm now probably putting my other foot into it as well. At least, if my mom were to read this, I'm putting my other foot in it. She insists she does not, so I guess I'll know for sure soon enough. But, I've mentioned before, this is my blog, for me, so that I might vent and not entirely lose my mind or eat my young.

With my brother's family in her house, I hear everything is hunky-dory, but I suspect everyone is trying very hard to be nice and, perhaps, walking on eggshells a bit. I don't know that, like I said, everyone seems to be in agreement that all is good. What I do know is that my mom has ratcheted up her comments to me as of late. I haven't really been tracking this or anything, but my guess is that it started around the time they started getting the house ready for them to move in. I could just be sensitive, certainly wouldn't have been the first time that happened, but that's my guess. It may also be because, when you come right down to it, my mom doesn't really accept that I have Fibromyalgia, (FM). She would deny that. I think she wants to believe, but the reality is that she just doesn't, and her actions speak very loudly to that. Since my FM has recently really turned itself up, her uncomfortableness with it, might also be the reason her comments have been surfacing more often. Who knows, maybe it's because Venus is in her moon phase. My point is, and I do have one, regardless of the reason, I feel, that my mom has started in on me again as of late.

Example: a few days ago, my mom watched the girls while I went to the doctor. In the middle of small talk, she asks me if the Christmas stuff was still on the dining room table,
(I have 1-2 boxes I'm working on getting completely put away. It's how things work when you have something like FM. You do what you can, when you can, and you try not to stress about the rest. No, my poor children haven't been deprived of other holidays. We have decorated for other holidays, the dining room has just become a Christmas staging area. I agree, I probably should purge some of the Christmas, I'm actually working on that. Different post, for another time.)
So, my answer is, "Yes, it's still out."
"Well, that's ridiculous, there's no reason you can't have had that put away by now." No, I didn't tape her, but that's pretty close to a verbatim quote.

So, now you get what I mean when I say she's started in on me. That little exchange is typical of what happens between us. It's a little dance we do. The whole conversation will be moving along about the kids and whatnot, and she'll throw a little jab in there like that. When I've been dealing with it for a while, I'm better at not engaging her. Right now, I'm out of practice. Not to mention, my defenses are down, because I'm so tired, in pain, etc... If you're still reading this, you are a real trooper, or need to get a hobby. Oh hey, maybe reading blogs is your hobby! Good for you! Because It's taking me this long to get to the story this whole post is supposed to be about. I've never claimed to be short winded.

The Start of the Actual Blog Post: (Cue trumpets!)

Today's event, for Spring Break, was supposed to be at a park w/a dozen or so other families from school. Everyone brings lunch and we have a picnic and let the kids burn some energy. It rained this morning, of course. But, I had a backup plan! We took the girls to movies. You may remember that movie going with BigSpeak, (Big,) has not had great success in the past. But it was raining, and we went to see Hop. It's about the Easter Bunny, how scary could it be? I asked my mom if she wanted to go, partly because I knew she wanted me to ask her, and partly because I knew it would be easier with the two girls, if things did not go well. (They were mostly fine, BTW.) Movie, was all good. We had one little mishap w/candy that G'ma let them pick out, but that was all. (Big picked out "sticky candy," she shouldn't have with her braces. It wasn't a big deal.) My mom got very testy w/me about it on the drive home to drop her off. Told me I should've bought her the candy, if it mattered that much. This was only because she was trying to tell me it was fine for Big to have it once in a while, in front of Big. (It's not. Trust me, I know this because we let her do it once and luckily were able to fix it on our own.) I wasn't criticizing her choice, it was when she told me in front of my kid that it was OK for her to have it, that I said, "Actually, no it's not." That's when she got all testy with me. But that's not the story, it just helps you understand my state of mind. I was tired, and at this point now, a bit testy myself. I got home about 3:30, and the girls wanted lunch, so I made them a late lunch. (They'd had a very large late breakfast.) Then LittleSpeak, (Little) got mad about something, and got in trouble for talking back. I was tired, so I vented. I vented publicly on a "social networking" site. (You just had your "aha moment," didn't you?) All I said, was that, this day was not going down as my favorite day of being a mom. I immediately got several comments from other moms and dads. It was actually kind of funny how quickly so many people were having the same kind of day. One mom suggested it might be the rain. Another told me I should've pawned them off on the G'parents, like her. There were some other things in there, so I quickly wrote into my own comments and replied to them. In my reply, I mentioned to the mom who suggested G'parents, that my kids were not the first grandkids, so the novelty was gone. Not one of my more stellar moments, I can assure you. I did it without thinking and hit enter.

Tonight, I got a text from my mom about it. She was less than pleased. I debated about how to answer her; I don't want to add fuel to the fire, but I felt that my comment, while ill-advised, was defensible. Should I do this via text? Call her? I finally decided to text her back, I felt calling her would be escalating it and potentially turning it into something bigger. I wrote her back and said, "When I ask for help with my kids, because they are a handful, and I say that is why I would like the help. I'm usually told too bad." Good or bad, that's the truth. I have been told "no" more than once, because they are a lot of work. They are a lot of work. I know that. That's why I was asking for the help, right? My kids are a lot of work because they're younger, then their first grandkids, I get that. I also have a child who is, what some might call, "spirited." Let's just say, you don't leave her alone in a room with a pair of scissors; running is probably the best thing she'll do with them. When you get down to it, that basically what I meant by the comment. Obviously, it's not how she took it. She did not write me back. After half an hour, I wrote again and asked if she was mad at me. She answered that right away, "no." I decided to call it even and leave it alone.

I'm spending the day with her, my niece and my girls at an amusement park tomorrow. I'll let you know how that goes.

More of the Same

I go to see my "new" rheumatologist tomorrow. This last week has been more of the same. One day I'm pretty good & actually get a few things done. Next day, I'm down w/IBS or a migraine or both. I'm tracking everything and honestly, it doesn't seem like my diet (low-carb) is the reason for my IBS. But I'm going to stick with it. If nothing else, I will start to lose weight from it, at some point, and that won't hurt.

Last weekend I went to San Diego and stayed at a spa w/my BFF & another of her friends. I was actually really good for the weekend. About an hour after I got home, I got a headache. I had opened a soda about 10 mins prior and only had about 2 sips of it. But I hadn't had any soda all weekend, so I thought maybe I was on to something. But it seems not. I've had that same headache off and on since Sunday night. This afternoon, it got really bad. My meds got it under control a few hours after DaddySpeak got home.

I'm hoping for something enlightening tomorrow. Realistically, I know that's unlikely, but a girl can dream.