So haven't posted in a while. Life got crazy. See, the celexa the dr prescribed me ended up making me have a massive panic attack. Last Wednesday life was perfect. I felt better than I had felt in a long time. Then, Thursday, I woke up and felt weird again, and then had a panic attack. Only it wouldn't go away like a normal panic attack. So I called my doctor's office. Their phone lines were all down. It got worse. I called my husband. His cell was at home. That made things worse. I finally reached him through the office but he was between hearings and unable to really help. So .... I call my mom and an old friend in a complete panic. Both advised me to go somewhere quiet and try to breathe. Well I have a toddler. there's nowhere quiet. I finally reached a gf that works with my dr, and they had me come in. I couldn't drive. Hell, I could barely not hyperventilate. I was able to reach my therapist and another girlfriend. The therapist helped me calm down and get it to a manageable level and the friend took me to the doctor. I got switched to zoloft and given xanax to deal with the anxiety. Then, after we picked up my medicine I slammed my pinky in her car door and ended up fracturing the tip. So that really sucked.
Since then, I had an amazing mother's day. My mom kept peej overnight and we had dinner, then went home and went to bed. Mother's Day was so perfect. I got a new camera, which I wasn't expecting, we ate an amazing brunch at the Arlington hotel, and picked up our darling little bear. It was just an altogether wonderful day.
The zoloft is making me anxious a lot. So I'm having to take xanax to cope with the anxiety so I can at least function somewhat normally. And to add insult to injury, my vehicle died yesterday when I went to pick up little bear after my counselling session. After having someone come look at it, initial diagnosis is that it's the fuel pump. Joy.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Another day, another pill.
Tonight I took pill #4. Today was my third full day on anti-depressants. So far, I'm even more tired than before, I'm very fuzzy, and my body just downright feels funny. If left to my own devices, I could very well sit and stare at a wall for half the day and sleep the other half. Appetite is super weird as well. Today I was starving half the day, and I ate more than I've eaten in days. But until then, I've had absolutely zero appetite, and when I try to eat anyway I am only able to get a few bites in before it's not appetizing anymore. Hopefully at some point, things will get more normal. Tuesday is the MMPI. It makes me anxious.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Teetering
So.... Night before last, darling husband had an intervention with me. He made me admit that I'm having a lot of problems, and they aren't getting fixed on their own. He said I needed to try therapy. So, I did. I went the first time yesterday. It was hard. I cried so much leading up to it, my anxiety levels were through the roof. I get there, and I'm incredibly nervous and on edge. Then, the secretary asks who I'm married to as we share a last name. I tell her. She knows who he is. the therapist also knows him. They work together on cases. My panic level hits a new high, and it's all I can do to not hyperventilate. I know he's required by law to keep all information to himself, but still. He knows him. He will see him, and he'll know the things I've shared and he'll look at him knowing this. Is my husband a bad person? No, obviously not. But still. I wonder if the trust has been shattered before it has had time to even sprout. I want to vomit. I don't know if I can do this. I have to call to make an appt to take a personality test (the MMPI of course), and he really wants to send me to a psychiatrist to make sure I'm on the right medicines. This is pushing me so close to a complete breakdown. I can feel it. I can barely eat. I am shaky and off balance and I want to run away or throw up.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Springing through the weekend
It's been a good past couple of weeks. I've been busy revamping my gardens, planting herbs and my first veggies, and working on converting my previously full sun garden to a full shade garden. This wasn't my original plan, but trees have grown to a point to where it's made it a perfect shady corner garden. Except for the early morning hours, it is in full shade the entire day. Very relaxing indeed. My little bear went with my in laws yesterday evening, and is spending the weekend with them. It's nice. I refuse to feel guilty because he stays over with people on average once a month. I refuse to feel guilty for having weekly or every other week date nights sans the peej. If little PJ's parents have any hope of a long lasting and happy marraige, then he'll have to have some overnights and babysitter nights. Plus, his babysitter and her backup are both cousins. One I babysat myself when she was his age. Ahh the circles that are always turning in our lives. And he only stays over with my sister or one of his many sets of grandparents. It's all good. He loves it. I enjoy the break from 24/7 toddlerdom. When I go back outside, I'm going to take some pictures of my garden areas and post on here. So far, this blog has been very wordy and not very pic friendly.
I 'get' to go to the doctor on Monday. I'm not excited about it, but I am eagerly anticipating it. I've been experiencing fatigue a lot since having PJ. I understand some as a result of the different life, but on bad days, I wake exhausted, nap when he naps, still wake tired, and spend the entire day counting the minutes till bedtime. I'm tired of being tired. Hopefully he'll be able to figure out whats going on. I thought initially it was from breastfeeding him and waking at night with a baby. But then he started sleeping at night. And then he eventually weaned. So then I thought it was because I'd become too sedentary, so I became more active. But that doesn't help whatsoever. Perhaps anemic? Took iron pills, and they helped. But if I missed a day, the fatigue was right back where it started, not to mention I took them for the better part of 3 months with no real sign of them really helping a lot. I currently live on caffeine. My average day sees around 2 cups of coffee and 2 cokes. Bad days will see around 3-4 sodas and at least 3 cups of coffee. Obviously all the soda and coffee fills me up, so I really don't eat much. Sometimes I'll munch for lunch and I usually eat dinner of some sort. Today I had some leftover dessert from our date last night for brunch.
Enough for today. Perhaps a nap is in order. At the very least, Jane Austen is calling my name. It's the perfect weather for some old fashioned romance.
I 'get' to go to the doctor on Monday. I'm not excited about it, but I am eagerly anticipating it. I've been experiencing fatigue a lot since having PJ. I understand some as a result of the different life, but on bad days, I wake exhausted, nap when he naps, still wake tired, and spend the entire day counting the minutes till bedtime. I'm tired of being tired. Hopefully he'll be able to figure out whats going on. I thought initially it was from breastfeeding him and waking at night with a baby. But then he started sleeping at night. And then he eventually weaned. So then I thought it was because I'd become too sedentary, so I became more active. But that doesn't help whatsoever. Perhaps anemic? Took iron pills, and they helped. But if I missed a day, the fatigue was right back where it started, not to mention I took them for the better part of 3 months with no real sign of them really helping a lot. I currently live on caffeine. My average day sees around 2 cups of coffee and 2 cokes. Bad days will see around 3-4 sodas and at least 3 cups of coffee. Obviously all the soda and coffee fills me up, so I really don't eat much. Sometimes I'll munch for lunch and I usually eat dinner of some sort. Today I had some leftover dessert from our date last night for brunch.
Enough for today. Perhaps a nap is in order. At the very least, Jane Austen is calling my name. It's the perfect weather for some old fashioned romance.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Springtime
It's been a fun week. I don't really miss facebook much, surprisingly, although sometimes I wonder what's going on in there. I can't believe how much time I have with myself now that I'm not hanging out online playing the games and whatnot all day. Of course it's a boon that we're finally getting some nice and warm weather. Darling PJ and I have been spending a lot of time out and about, and of course we both like that.
He truly is a gift from God. Yesterday afternoon, he took part of his nap in my lap. I took a break from reading Mansfield Park to admire his features. It's amazing that he started from nothing basically. It's so miraculous that he grew from just one egg and one sperm, and grew perfectly and with no defects. I thought of how small he was when he was born. He was 19" long and 6 pounds, 13 ounces. At his 15 month checkup last month, he was 31" tall and 24 pounds, 6 ounces. It's so hard to wrap your mind around it, that we are capable of creating and growing little people that then will grow and learn and mature into adults who create and grow their own little people. Every day is a new adventure. I can truly say that with him around, every day truly is a new day. Every meal is the best meal. Every activity is the most fun activity ever. Having him has helped me in ways I never knew he could. He is the lighthouse in my sea of emotions, giving me a steady place to focus on. When I feel myself sinking down, I focus more on him and his little mini discoveries and it brightens my day.
Enough of that. Suffice it to say I'm constantly wondering how I could make such a perfect little creature
Today promises to be another wonderful day. We are going with a friend and her little boy to town. A certain little Peej needs some new shoes. :)
He truly is a gift from God. Yesterday afternoon, he took part of his nap in my lap. I took a break from reading Mansfield Park to admire his features. It's amazing that he started from nothing basically. It's so miraculous that he grew from just one egg and one sperm, and grew perfectly and with no defects. I thought of how small he was when he was born. He was 19" long and 6 pounds, 13 ounces. At his 15 month checkup last month, he was 31" tall and 24 pounds, 6 ounces. It's so hard to wrap your mind around it, that we are capable of creating and growing little people that then will grow and learn and mature into adults who create and grow their own little people. Every day is a new adventure. I can truly say that with him around, every day truly is a new day. Every meal is the best meal. Every activity is the most fun activity ever. Having him has helped me in ways I never knew he could. He is the lighthouse in my sea of emotions, giving me a steady place to focus on. When I feel myself sinking down, I focus more on him and his little mini discoveries and it brightens my day.
Enough of that. Suffice it to say I'm constantly wondering how I could make such a perfect little creature
Today promises to be another wonderful day. We are going with a friend and her little boy to town. A certain little Peej needs some new shoes. :)
Monday, April 4, 2011
Hi. My name is Samantha, and...
I'm addicted to Facebook.
Yep. Pretty pathetic huh? It's true though. I found myself connected to FB in one way or another pretty much from the moment I woke up till the second I dozed off. I posted status updates, wrote on walls, commented, uploaded links, videos and pics, chatted with friends, participated in groups, played games. I ignored the love of my life and my baby boy, I neglected to go out and run errands, and I hid from the world. Facebook is so addictive to begin with. And when you don't want to participate in reality, it beckons so alluringly to you. "Come here, Samantha! you can play our super fun games! You can meet all sorts of people that are nice to you! Everyone will like your pictures and everyone will be soooo concerned and interested in all your activities!" For the record, I never just added random people. I do have a collection of online friends that were gained from a pregnancy message board I participated in while .. well.. pregnant. But that's about it.
Hubby has complained of the problem for a while. But I pushed it off, and ignored it as the nagging of a cranky husband. Then I started to think maybe I did have a problem. Maybe he was right, and I HAD gotten sucked into facebookland. But that's idiotic. Who actually gets obsessed with it? geez. Then, we got a phone call from a bill collector about a bill I'd forgotten to pay. Why had I forgotten to pay it? Well, the day I intended to, the weather was icky and I didn't want to get out in rain with the toddler. So I set the cash aside, fully planning to do it 'later'. And got back on facebook. And never did it. *sigh* Luckily it wasn't so bad that it impacted anything except make him incredibly pissed at me. And made me realize he was... right.
Really? I hate when he's right!!! So, I sat down and made a decision on the spot. Those are the ones I'm best at. I temporarily deactivated my facebook account. I took just enough time to change admins on a few groups so they wouldn't be affected by this, and asked one of my best friends to convey a message to the group I populated the most and deactivated it. We talked. We talked, I cried, we talked more, I cried a lot more. We decided I needed a detox from the facebook world for a couple weeks, and would slowly try to work back into it, but only use it in moderation.
M O D E R A T I O N
Well, today is day 3. And it sucks. I miss FB, I miss my friends, and I miss the constant diversions. I also confess that my feelings are a bit hurt. Why? Well, I foolishly thought that a lot of those fb friends, primarily the ones from my old message board, were... well I guess that I thought we were really friends. That's how pathetic it had gotten. So far, I've had a couple stay in contact through other measures, txt and yahoo im, but that's it. In fact, it's like 4-6. One I never even considered would stop talking to me. We're pretty inseparable, despite the distance between our homes. And you know, even though I know it's silly, I feel forgotten. I know that it's nothing so personal as that. But that's how I feel. I was sooo well loved and soooo super cool and sooo sought after for advice and sooo supportive while I was there participating. But now? eh. Time to move on.
So that's the long and short of it. I could have been addicted to alcohol or crack cocaine or any number of things, but I chose the lame way out. haha. :(
Yep. Pretty pathetic huh? It's true though. I found myself connected to FB in one way or another pretty much from the moment I woke up till the second I dozed off. I posted status updates, wrote on walls, commented, uploaded links, videos and pics, chatted with friends, participated in groups, played games. I ignored the love of my life and my baby boy, I neglected to go out and run errands, and I hid from the world. Facebook is so addictive to begin with. And when you don't want to participate in reality, it beckons so alluringly to you. "Come here, Samantha! you can play our super fun games! You can meet all sorts of people that are nice to you! Everyone will like your pictures and everyone will be soooo concerned and interested in all your activities!" For the record, I never just added random people. I do have a collection of online friends that were gained from a pregnancy message board I participated in while .. well.. pregnant. But that's about it.
Hubby has complained of the problem for a while. But I pushed it off, and ignored it as the nagging of a cranky husband. Then I started to think maybe I did have a problem. Maybe he was right, and I HAD gotten sucked into facebookland. But that's idiotic. Who actually gets obsessed with it? geez. Then, we got a phone call from a bill collector about a bill I'd forgotten to pay. Why had I forgotten to pay it? Well, the day I intended to, the weather was icky and I didn't want to get out in rain with the toddler. So I set the cash aside, fully planning to do it 'later'. And got back on facebook. And never did it. *sigh* Luckily it wasn't so bad that it impacted anything except make him incredibly pissed at me. And made me realize he was... right.
Really? I hate when he's right!!! So, I sat down and made a decision on the spot. Those are the ones I'm best at. I temporarily deactivated my facebook account. I took just enough time to change admins on a few groups so they wouldn't be affected by this, and asked one of my best friends to convey a message to the group I populated the most and deactivated it. We talked. We talked, I cried, we talked more, I cried a lot more. We decided I needed a detox from the facebook world for a couple weeks, and would slowly try to work back into it, but only use it in moderation.
M O D E R A T I O N
Well, today is day 3. And it sucks. I miss FB, I miss my friends, and I miss the constant diversions. I also confess that my feelings are a bit hurt. Why? Well, I foolishly thought that a lot of those fb friends, primarily the ones from my old message board, were... well I guess that I thought we were really friends. That's how pathetic it had gotten. So far, I've had a couple stay in contact through other measures, txt and yahoo im, but that's it. In fact, it's like 4-6. One I never even considered would stop talking to me. We're pretty inseparable, despite the distance between our homes. And you know, even though I know it's silly, I feel forgotten. I know that it's nothing so personal as that. But that's how I feel. I was sooo well loved and soooo super cool and sooo sought after for advice and sooo supportive while I was there participating. But now? eh. Time to move on.
So that's the long and short of it. I could have been addicted to alcohol or crack cocaine or any number of things, but I chose the lame way out. haha. :(
Monday, February 14, 2011
It's Me!
Ok ok ok. It's been a minute. I've been otherwise occupied. Being a mom to a toddler is rather consuming, plus we've had several snow days, I've been working on a car and playing domestic diva. Let's see... What to talk about....
I know!
Happy Valentine's Day!
I heart Valentine's day. 11 years ago this evening, my beloved husband asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend. *sigh* He can be so darn romantic! Years ago, we abandoned going out to eat on this heart-y day- too many people to fight and generally poor service. So instead, we go out another night, but I like to make some nice dinner for the day. Soo.... Here's my proposed meal plan for tonight. I loove cooking, so it makes me happy. And this year we'll have a little bear to enjoy the dinner with us!
Appetizer: I'm drawing a blank. I'll have to revisit this.
Salad: Caesar salad, bagged salad that is. :o) Gotta conserve time when possible, right?
Main course: Shrimp and salmon over couscous with a cream sauce. Rolls (yes premade. sheesh. doughs haven't liked me much lately). Roasted potatoes.
Dessert: Chocolate dipped strawberries and homemade whipped cream.
Sounds yummy, right? Need to decide on the cream sauce. Do I want just a basic cream or do I want more of a buerre blanc? He prefers the buerre blanc, but that means I'll need to pick up wine and butter. And a shallot or two. That's fine. he loves it, and it would be a nice topper for the seafood.
I know!
Happy Valentine's Day!
I heart Valentine's day. 11 years ago this evening, my beloved husband asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend. *sigh* He can be so darn romantic! Years ago, we abandoned going out to eat on this heart-y day- too many people to fight and generally poor service. So instead, we go out another night, but I like to make some nice dinner for the day. Soo.... Here's my proposed meal plan for tonight. I loove cooking, so it makes me happy. And this year we'll have a little bear to enjoy the dinner with us!
Appetizer: I'm drawing a blank. I'll have to revisit this.
Salad: Caesar salad, bagged salad that is. :o) Gotta conserve time when possible, right?
Main course: Shrimp and salmon over couscous with a cream sauce. Rolls (yes premade. sheesh. doughs haven't liked me much lately). Roasted potatoes.
Dessert: Chocolate dipped strawberries and homemade whipped cream.
Sounds yummy, right? Need to decide on the cream sauce. Do I want just a basic cream or do I want more of a buerre blanc? He prefers the buerre blanc, but that means I'll need to pick up wine and butter. And a shallot or two. That's fine. he loves it, and it would be a nice topper for the seafood.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Sunshine, oh bitterly cold sunshine
Finally. January is over. I feel so relieved, as I always do after another January has passed. Today has been a good day. It's sunny, but incredibly cold outside. So, PJ and I are having a jammies day. Which we have most days anyway, but it's special because I'm officially designating it a jammies day. I'm working on making some homemade bread today, and I can't wait for it to go in the oven. Parmesan and cracked pepper loaves. :) Yum. I worried about having enough flour, but of course that wasn't until after I'd committed and had it in the mixer. The dough didn't kead out as smooth as I'd like, but it felt pretty good after it rose. We'll see how it turns out. It isn't like I'm out any real amount of money. It's bread, after all.
I find my mind wandering a lot today. I daydream about having one of my closest friends living closer, and all the play dates and lunches and dinners and everything we could share. I watch pj intently playing with his kitchenette and eagerly anticipate the day when he is able to help make cookies and breads and all manner of yummy things. I think he's going to be a good cook like his mommy.
With any luck, he and I will be driving the 90 minutes down to my dad's house to spend the day and night. I'm looking forward to that as well. I miss my dad, and I especially miss his and my step-mom's awesome food. Not that the tummy needs it. I'm not doing great on losing weight. But January is never a good month for me to start anything. I'm going to try to do better this month. I will do better because I want to look cute in a bikini again.
Guess that's it, just random bumbling along. :)
I find my mind wandering a lot today. I daydream about having one of my closest friends living closer, and all the play dates and lunches and dinners and everything we could share. I watch pj intently playing with his kitchenette and eagerly anticipate the day when he is able to help make cookies and breads and all manner of yummy things. I think he's going to be a good cook like his mommy.
With any luck, he and I will be driving the 90 minutes down to my dad's house to spend the day and night. I'm looking forward to that as well. I miss my dad, and I especially miss his and my step-mom's awesome food. Not that the tummy needs it. I'm not doing great on losing weight. But January is never a good month for me to start anything. I'm going to try to do better this month. I will do better because I want to look cute in a bikini again.
Guess that's it, just random bumbling along. :)
Monday, January 31, 2011
:/
I don't feel like coming up with a title today. I'm upset. I'm trying to lose weight. I had a couple of off days- lunch at a decidedly unhealthy establishment with a girlfriend and then a double date at a pub. As a result, I gained 2 lbs. That puts me right back at 181. It is depressing. It is frustrating. I know it's my own fault. But it also makes me want to just cut out a few meals. It's not starving myself, but it's controlling what I eat. By not eating. I had a blueberry muffin for breakfast, and I just keep thinking about how long that could last me. I don't want to have to eat lunch. I don't want to be fat. I don't want to hate mirrors. But even if I lose the weight, will that ever actually happen? I'm guessing no. If I'm overweight, I'll hate myself for being fat. If I'm slim, I'll hate what the slim me represents. There is no winning. I wish there were middle ground. But I don't know. I'm just ready for warm sunny days. They always help brighten my mood. Being down is crappy. Being down on a cloudy icky day is the pits.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Just Like Old Times
The past few days have been stressful. Jan is a slow month for the business, and that is bothersome. It is always a slow month. It probably always will be. It's not the end of the world, but still. And little bear's reflux came back. That was terribly upsetting. You always want your children to be perfectly healthy. And there was a huge drama in the group that I used to be a member of.. and I'm named as basically a terrible person. I don't want to go into it. It's just tiring. Well, when I deal with stress, I usually lose my appetite. Well, I've really lost it this week. Monday, I had a muffin and 2 slices of cheese pizza. I had the pizza after my blood sugar dropped. Yesterday, I had a bite or two of muffin, a bite or two of pj's lunch, and nothing till 8, when I had some homemade chicken strips. Unfortunately you can't just not eat and expect no side effects. And of course I had issues. Yesterday evening, around 5, my levels just crashed. I was feeling disoriented, then as I was trying to get little bear's dinner made, I felt very nauseous and realized I was about to pass out. :( So, I grabbed a coke, and as everything started getting really dark I opened it and took a slurp. And laid down on the floor. The cool tile floor felt nice, and my darling little one promptly climbed on top of me and snuggled. After a few sips of soda and several minutes, I was able to sit up again. Hence why I ate the chicken. Plus, they're a favorite. Usually it's hard to even make myself eat b/c if I do, the food doesn't sit well. So far today I haven't eaten. I'm debating whether I feel like having lunch. I should try to eat something. But. But I've already started down this path. And it's so tempting to just keep it up. The first few days are always hardest, then the body learns to cope with it. I don't know. It's not healthy. But it isn't like I'm not eating anything. I had a plate of chicken strips yesterday, and the day before 2 slices of pizza. That's a normal amount of food, right? I think so. I think it's fine. I'll just wait and see if I'm really hungry or not. I'll eat something for dinner, I'm sure. Otherwise I would get in trouble with DH for not eating. Unless I really didn't feel like eating, and maybe he'll be running late so I can tell him I already ate earlier.. *sigh* I .. i shouldn't even be in this stupid mindset. Not at all. But it's so hard to get out. It's here and it's comforting.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Life on the Soapbox
I feel soapboxy this morning. There's a thread in a group I'm in that is beginning to irritate me. I remind myself that everyone is entitled to an opinion and that everyone has the right to disagree and ya ya ya. And it's not really the debate that irritates me. I will cut straight to the heart of the matter. I am of the firm belief that I'm rarely wrong. It seems to be an inherited trait. I also truly can not stand when people can't use reputable sources to prove their point. I feel, very strongly, that if you are going to tell me something that I'm currently doing is life threatening or unhealthy or bad, I should be able to google it (I'm a googleholic) and quickly and easily find information from *reputable* sources to back up what I've been told. And if I find I'm wrong, I'm quick to admit it. But if the best I can find are articles in natural news.com or vegetarianismisthewaytobe.com or whatever, I'm not going to go for it. I don't think that the world is conspiring against us, the regular joes and janes of the world. And perhaps it's the HFCS in my diet that makes me so complacent. But let's be honest. What does it matter? What can YOU do if there is, in fact, a huge conspiracy to hide the *truth* about the dangers of soy or the US clandestinely trying to outlaw private vegetable gardens or whatever other thing is out there? Get worked up? Cry out against the evils of government? To what end? Not saying you shouldn't fight for what you believe for, but why bother with things that may or may not be true depending on what and who you consider reputable and believable?
That's about it, I suppose.
That's about it, I suppose.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Snowglobin' It
I feel like I should post a happier blog to end the day because today was an overall good day. It was a very nice day. Peej was in a great mood, and it snowed big, beautiful snowflakes all day long. And even better, no accumulation. And while I admit that playing in a snowy yard has a certain appeal to my inner child, we had plenty of playing in a snowy yard last week. I've had my fill for a bit. So looking out the window to see that we've been deposited in a real world snow globe was all my little heart desired. We played and cleaned, and dh, his assistant and her two rambunctious boys came home for lunch. Grilled cheese sandwiches, quesadillas and mac and cheese were the foods offered and greedily eaten. Then visiting, game playing in various corners of the house and just chilling out watching the snow fall until my Little Bear went down for a nap. Our visitors went their merry way to wherever they went, and DH and I played some Fable 3 on the 360.
Ahh, how I miss our co-op gaming time. It's rare that we can do it anymore, but so fun when we can. And it was such a perfect afternoon for the activity. Cold, snowy day outside, warm house inside. I had a cup of coffee with raspberry and milk added to warm my tummy, and my beautiful toddler and his wonderful daddy were snuggling as we played.
If this isn't 'The Life', then I surely don't know what it could possibly be.
Ahh, how I miss our co-op gaming time. It's rare that we can do it anymore, but so fun when we can. And it was such a perfect afternoon for the activity. Cold, snowy day outside, warm house inside. I had a cup of coffee with raspberry and milk added to warm my tummy, and my beautiful toddler and his wonderful daddy were snuggling as we played.
If this isn't 'The Life', then I surely don't know what it could possibly be.
Eternal Repercussions
Last night, we watched the second Twilight movie. I always get the titles mixed up. So, first few minutes, blah blah, birthday crap, blah blah, blood, fight, ya ya, then breakup scene, she gets lost.. Then the scene of her sitting in front of the window as the months go by. And that song that plays. I don't know the name of the song, nor do I want to know. It's an incredibly depressing song, and just hearing it takes me back. Not to some failed romance, but to a death that had enormous impact on my life.
My grandmother and I were incredibly close. I was born the day before her birthday. She took care of me from 3 months till kindergarten, and I had regular overnights with her, and went on trips with her and papa. She taught me how to draw, and read, and how to play memory games. When I was very little, I remember getting to sleep in the bed between her and papa. Then, they moved me to a lounge chair that they set up next to the bed. She and I would stay up past my bedtime putting together puzzles, or doing crossword puzzles. They almost always ordered pizza for my regular overnights. Large thin crust hamburger pizza. I loved playing pretend games in their entryway, and it was not uncommon for guests to walk in on me mid-wardrobe change. When I started high school, I walked the 3 blocks to her house every day after school and stayed till my mom got off work and picked me up. We never traded words in anger, although there were points over which we disagreed. Ice cream flavors, for one. She was a daquiri ice lover, I prefered chocolate chip cookie dough. All in all, our personalities were remarkably similar.
I graduated high school and moved off to college, but still made a point to spend time with her when I was home, and often called her. Met my now dh in college. I was anxious for him to meet her. She had disapproved of every. single. boyfriend. I'd ever had. I'd begun to think that she would always disapprove. But I was wrong. He came home with me one weekend and she liked him. They bonded over daquiri ice ice cream, and things went from there. She approved. That sealed the deal for me, although it was 7 years before we married. Life was good.
Fast forward several years.
2005
Grandma was always very overweight. Then she caught a nasty lingering cold and lost weight as a result. She continued losing weight over the next several months. She was so happy that her appetite had gone down so much and she was losing the weight! Husband (still boyfriend at the time) and I had decided to move out of our 1 bedroom apartment, and were looking for a house to buy. We found a great starter home. Closing date was October 20, 2005. It's funny the things that stick with you. Friday the moving truck moved all our furniture to the new house. Saturday my uncle and his wife and my then best friend and her boyfriend helped move boxes from the apartment to the house. Sunday I spent the afternoon at the apartment cleaning and boxing up more things. I load up the car after working all afternoon, and take it home. Hubby's parents are at the house. He greets me outside. My grandmother was taken to the hospital, he said, and they're calling in family. She had apparently contracted pneumonia at some point and after who knows how long of not treating it, it turned to septicemia- the infection was in her blood. I grabbed a few needed toiletries, and rode the 2 hours to my hometown with my uncle and his wife.
Please pardon me, but things start getting sketchy from here. I remember us visiting her in the hospital. DH (dear hubby) came down the next day and I remember all of us, my mom and step dad, my sister, DH, my mom's 4 brothers and their significant others all crowded in the semi-private room she was staying in. We joked and talked, and eventually all went back to our respective homes. Next day I was back at work. I got a call at work. The hospital had run followup tests on her, got some strange results and gave her a CAT scan and MRI or something. Her body was riddled with cancer. She wasn't going to live long. My heart fell into a black hole and was crushed. I remember crying in my boss' office. I was horrified. I was so upset. Either that night or the next, we were at home and my aunt called. Grandma had taken a turn for the worse. She was dying. They were keeping her on ventilators until we could get down there. I freaked out. I yelled at her. I screamed. I told her she was a dirty liar and asked why she would say such lies. I refused to believe her lies. The joke wasn't funny. I hung up on her. DH spoke to her first, and had started packing a bag for me. Then my stepdad called. It was no lie. She was in a coma and would die very soon. I needed to pack some things and come down. I remember losing the strength in my legs and crying in the floor of our closet. This time, he accompanied me. We followed my uncle down. It was such a dark night, and foggy to boot. We drove recklessly fast.
We get down there and the family is all there. Even one of her brothers. They were huddled in the ICU waiting area. Papa asked if we wanted to go back to see her. So mom, my sis and I did. I walked with him. The closer we got to her room, the less I wanted to see her. I'd been in the hospital room when my paternal grandmother took her last breath. But I couldn't.. I wouldn't do this with her. I could not watch her breathe her last breath. I couldn't. I started to panic. I was being pushed to a reality I refused to accept. Papa told me I didn't have to see her if I didn't want to. But I did. So I went in with them. I held her hand, that same hand that popped my behind if I misbehaved, and loved to play with my hair. I told her that I loved her. I imagined that she squeezed back just the tiniest bit. I left the room. As the wee hours of the night approached, we discussed obituaries and funerals, and where to send the masses of flowers and plants that she'd gotten during her brief stay in the hospital. Some point, around 3 or 4 in the morning, dh and I went to a nearby town to rest at my dad and step mom's house. A few hours later, we received the call.
She died.
DH drove me back to my hometown. He had to leave to go back to classes. It was nearing finals, and he couldn't afford to miss. We were all gathering at grandma and papa's house. I think they were looking for clothes and whatnot for her to wear. I don't know. I wandered aimlessly in the house, unaware that those steps would be the last I ever took in the house I spent so many days, so many laughs, so many special moments of my life in. I recall crying in her bedroom. At some point, papa said he had to go to Mena, a town a couple hours away to make arrangements. They were burying her there. They had bought land there and he was working on building them a house to retire in. I rode with him. I remember a stop along the way for him to get a drink and something. We got to town. One of his sisters flew? drove? somehow got down there from Kansas. We shared a room together. She told me I stank and needed to shower. She was right. It had been several days. I'd ceased to function long ago, and needed to be reminded to carry out even the simplest tasks. I would talk, I would walk, and do things, but it was a husk. I had been pulled into the black hole with my heart. I didn't see anything. I heard little. My love, although he packed several pairs of underwear, had neglected to pack an entire outfit suitable for the funeral. Luckily my little sister packed extra things.
At some point someone brought a sandwich tray, and one morning.. or was it two? we all ate breakfast at this restaurant. Buffet style. On the evening of the viewing, I spent a good portion of the evening staring at myself in the mirror. I don't know why. I spent an equally healthy part looking at who sent what plants, and rubbing my beloved grandmother's hand until the makeup came off. Makeup on her hand. Makeup on my grandmother's hand because it was lifeless. It would forever more be lifeless, and would rely solely on makeup to give it a hint of the life that once coursed through it. There might have been some sort of ceremony, and I have no idea who was there. Funeral day, a local church provided a meal. I ate. DH was back. It was Saturday. I have no idea where the other days were spent. Went to the funeral. I cried and he had to help me walk. My legs were toothpicks trying to hold up the world. I recall them wanting us to leave before they lowered her body into the grave. But we stayed and I watched from the car. It was terrifying. They were putting my grandmother INTO THE HOLE!!! PLEASE PLEASE make them STOP. But they neither heard me, nor did they stop. We drove home. The next day, Sunday, was Halloween. So many children came to trick or treat.
I.. I refused to accept her death for a long time. She wasn't dead, I would say to myself. I just haven't called her. I really ought to call her. They all gathered to go through her things. I couldnt' go, I told them, but all I wanted was the printer's tray that forever hung above where she sat. Ok, that's fine, you can have it. Finally, months and months down the road I called. It was no longer in service. My papa had permanently moved to Mena while he was building his house. Not theirs anymore. Just his. I cried. I cried daily that first year, to work, home from work. Then I started crying every other day, then every few days, then weekly, and now, six long years later, I cry about once a month or so. But every time I cry, the scab is ripped from the wound and it bleeds as heavily as the first time, and the pain is just as deep as when it first occured. Apparently, I didn't smile much for several months. I don't remember. I don't remember much of anything about that first year.
I do recall dreading our birthdays. See, being that our birthdays were back to back, we always shared a family birthday party. And this year.. We wouldn't. The previous year on our birthdays, she forgot to call me. I thouht nothing of it, and called her on her birthday. She was so upset because she missed my birthday. It's ok grandma, I remember saying. You'll remember next year. Except. There was no next. year. There was and never will be another next year.
We got married, and it was terribly bittersweet. So happy to be forever joined with my perfect mate, but forever regretful that my grandmother couldn't be there to see it. A couple years later, we had our beautiful baby boy. And oh..... oh how many times have I WISHED with all of my heart to just be able to pick up the phone and call her. I never knew that you could wish so hard that it made you ache. But you can. You can wish with every breath, every thought and every movement you make until you crack and bleed. But alas. It never comes true. I think of her.
Every.
Single.
Day.
I wish, oh how I wish, that someone else had died in her place. That this has all been an incredibly elaborate and detailed dream. That...... that I was but a little girl again sitting in her lap as we talked about everything.
My grandmother and I were incredibly close. I was born the day before her birthday. She took care of me from 3 months till kindergarten, and I had regular overnights with her, and went on trips with her and papa. She taught me how to draw, and read, and how to play memory games. When I was very little, I remember getting to sleep in the bed between her and papa. Then, they moved me to a lounge chair that they set up next to the bed. She and I would stay up past my bedtime putting together puzzles, or doing crossword puzzles. They almost always ordered pizza for my regular overnights. Large thin crust hamburger pizza. I loved playing pretend games in their entryway, and it was not uncommon for guests to walk in on me mid-wardrobe change. When I started high school, I walked the 3 blocks to her house every day after school and stayed till my mom got off work and picked me up. We never traded words in anger, although there were points over which we disagreed. Ice cream flavors, for one. She was a daquiri ice lover, I prefered chocolate chip cookie dough. All in all, our personalities were remarkably similar.
I graduated high school and moved off to college, but still made a point to spend time with her when I was home, and often called her. Met my now dh in college. I was anxious for him to meet her. She had disapproved of every. single. boyfriend. I'd ever had. I'd begun to think that she would always disapprove. But I was wrong. He came home with me one weekend and she liked him. They bonded over daquiri ice ice cream, and things went from there. She approved. That sealed the deal for me, although it was 7 years before we married. Life was good.
Fast forward several years.
2005
Grandma was always very overweight. Then she caught a nasty lingering cold and lost weight as a result. She continued losing weight over the next several months. She was so happy that her appetite had gone down so much and she was losing the weight! Husband (still boyfriend at the time) and I had decided to move out of our 1 bedroom apartment, and were looking for a house to buy. We found a great starter home. Closing date was October 20, 2005. It's funny the things that stick with you. Friday the moving truck moved all our furniture to the new house. Saturday my uncle and his wife and my then best friend and her boyfriend helped move boxes from the apartment to the house. Sunday I spent the afternoon at the apartment cleaning and boxing up more things. I load up the car after working all afternoon, and take it home. Hubby's parents are at the house. He greets me outside. My grandmother was taken to the hospital, he said, and they're calling in family. She had apparently contracted pneumonia at some point and after who knows how long of not treating it, it turned to septicemia- the infection was in her blood. I grabbed a few needed toiletries, and rode the 2 hours to my hometown with my uncle and his wife.
Please pardon me, but things start getting sketchy from here. I remember us visiting her in the hospital. DH (dear hubby) came down the next day and I remember all of us, my mom and step dad, my sister, DH, my mom's 4 brothers and their significant others all crowded in the semi-private room she was staying in. We joked and talked, and eventually all went back to our respective homes. Next day I was back at work. I got a call at work. The hospital had run followup tests on her, got some strange results and gave her a CAT scan and MRI or something. Her body was riddled with cancer. She wasn't going to live long. My heart fell into a black hole and was crushed. I remember crying in my boss' office. I was horrified. I was so upset. Either that night or the next, we were at home and my aunt called. Grandma had taken a turn for the worse. She was dying. They were keeping her on ventilators until we could get down there. I freaked out. I yelled at her. I screamed. I told her she was a dirty liar and asked why she would say such lies. I refused to believe her lies. The joke wasn't funny. I hung up on her. DH spoke to her first, and had started packing a bag for me. Then my stepdad called. It was no lie. She was in a coma and would die very soon. I needed to pack some things and come down. I remember losing the strength in my legs and crying in the floor of our closet. This time, he accompanied me. We followed my uncle down. It was such a dark night, and foggy to boot. We drove recklessly fast.
We get down there and the family is all there. Even one of her brothers. They were huddled in the ICU waiting area. Papa asked if we wanted to go back to see her. So mom, my sis and I did. I walked with him. The closer we got to her room, the less I wanted to see her. I'd been in the hospital room when my paternal grandmother took her last breath. But I couldn't.. I wouldn't do this with her. I could not watch her breathe her last breath. I couldn't. I started to panic. I was being pushed to a reality I refused to accept. Papa told me I didn't have to see her if I didn't want to. But I did. So I went in with them. I held her hand, that same hand that popped my behind if I misbehaved, and loved to play with my hair. I told her that I loved her. I imagined that she squeezed back just the tiniest bit. I left the room. As the wee hours of the night approached, we discussed obituaries and funerals, and where to send the masses of flowers and plants that she'd gotten during her brief stay in the hospital. Some point, around 3 or 4 in the morning, dh and I went to a nearby town to rest at my dad and step mom's house. A few hours later, we received the call.
She died.
DH drove me back to my hometown. He had to leave to go back to classes. It was nearing finals, and he couldn't afford to miss. We were all gathering at grandma and papa's house. I think they were looking for clothes and whatnot for her to wear. I don't know. I wandered aimlessly in the house, unaware that those steps would be the last I ever took in the house I spent so many days, so many laughs, so many special moments of my life in. I recall crying in her bedroom. At some point, papa said he had to go to Mena, a town a couple hours away to make arrangements. They were burying her there. They had bought land there and he was working on building them a house to retire in. I rode with him. I remember a stop along the way for him to get a drink and something. We got to town. One of his sisters flew? drove? somehow got down there from Kansas. We shared a room together. She told me I stank and needed to shower. She was right. It had been several days. I'd ceased to function long ago, and needed to be reminded to carry out even the simplest tasks. I would talk, I would walk, and do things, but it was a husk. I had been pulled into the black hole with my heart. I didn't see anything. I heard little. My love, although he packed several pairs of underwear, had neglected to pack an entire outfit suitable for the funeral. Luckily my little sister packed extra things.
At some point someone brought a sandwich tray, and one morning.. or was it two? we all ate breakfast at this restaurant. Buffet style. On the evening of the viewing, I spent a good portion of the evening staring at myself in the mirror. I don't know why. I spent an equally healthy part looking at who sent what plants, and rubbing my beloved grandmother's hand until the makeup came off. Makeup on her hand. Makeup on my grandmother's hand because it was lifeless. It would forever more be lifeless, and would rely solely on makeup to give it a hint of the life that once coursed through it. There might have been some sort of ceremony, and I have no idea who was there. Funeral day, a local church provided a meal. I ate. DH was back. It was Saturday. I have no idea where the other days were spent. Went to the funeral. I cried and he had to help me walk. My legs were toothpicks trying to hold up the world. I recall them wanting us to leave before they lowered her body into the grave. But we stayed and I watched from the car. It was terrifying. They were putting my grandmother INTO THE HOLE!!! PLEASE PLEASE make them STOP. But they neither heard me, nor did they stop. We drove home. The next day, Sunday, was Halloween. So many children came to trick or treat.
I.. I refused to accept her death for a long time. She wasn't dead, I would say to myself. I just haven't called her. I really ought to call her. They all gathered to go through her things. I couldnt' go, I told them, but all I wanted was the printer's tray that forever hung above where she sat. Ok, that's fine, you can have it. Finally, months and months down the road I called. It was no longer in service. My papa had permanently moved to Mena while he was building his house. Not theirs anymore. Just his. I cried. I cried daily that first year, to work, home from work. Then I started crying every other day, then every few days, then weekly, and now, six long years later, I cry about once a month or so. But every time I cry, the scab is ripped from the wound and it bleeds as heavily as the first time, and the pain is just as deep as when it first occured. Apparently, I didn't smile much for several months. I don't remember. I don't remember much of anything about that first year.
I do recall dreading our birthdays. See, being that our birthdays were back to back, we always shared a family birthday party. And this year.. We wouldn't. The previous year on our birthdays, she forgot to call me. I thouht nothing of it, and called her on her birthday. She was so upset because she missed my birthday. It's ok grandma, I remember saying. You'll remember next year. Except. There was no next. year. There was and never will be another next year.
We got married, and it was terribly bittersweet. So happy to be forever joined with my perfect mate, but forever regretful that my grandmother couldn't be there to see it. A couple years later, we had our beautiful baby boy. And oh..... oh how many times have I WISHED with all of my heart to just be able to pick up the phone and call her. I never knew that you could wish so hard that it made you ache. But you can. You can wish with every breath, every thought and every movement you make until you crack and bleed. But alas. It never comes true. I think of her.
Every.
Single.
Day.
I wish, oh how I wish, that someone else had died in her place. That this has all been an incredibly elaborate and detailed dream. That...... that I was but a little girl again sitting in her lap as we talked about everything.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
sigh
We have a great dane, Yasmin. Yaz for short. I love her. She's a sweetheart. She's also no spring chicken. She will be 8 years old the end of Feb, which is pretty up there in dane years. She loved PJ when he was tiny, liked him when he was bigger, and for the most part enjoys playing with him now that he's running around. However, she does have issues. Namely her food bowl and her bed. We go back and forth with her being ok and not ok with these two areas. I know the problem lies in her idea that she's either higher up or at least equal to PJ in the big scheme of things. For meal times, I try to make a point to have her eat a few kibbles out of PJ's hand before she gets to eat, and then PJ and I spend at least a portion of the meal right next to her. This solves the food problem for the most part.
Bed... grr. It's rarely an issue I have to address, b/c Peej has way better things going on than to mess with the sleeping dog. haha there's a joke in there. Anyway.... This morning I'm feeling rather shitty- periods do that to a girl- and PJ had free roam of the house- the child proofed rooms, that is. So, he's off somewhere playing. I hear Yaz let out her mean "I'm going to eat you growl" and a few seconds later PJ cries. I realize they're in our bedroom and likely in or near her bed. I rush in there and she's across the room, and already hunkering down b/c she knows she's in trouble. PJ was unharmed. Hurt feelings were the only injuries sustained. That does not reduce my irritation at the dog. I growl at her, "What is wrong with you?? Go OUT." She scutters out of the bedroom, down the hall and to the back door, with me at her heels reminding her that that was a bad dog thing to do. As she slinks out the back door, I kick her in the ass. Grr. Being hormonal is not helping.
I'm sorry, it's getting hard to focus. This will have to be a short post today.
Bed... grr. It's rarely an issue I have to address, b/c Peej has way better things going on than to mess with the sleeping dog. haha there's a joke in there. Anyway.... This morning I'm feeling rather shitty- periods do that to a girl- and PJ had free roam of the house- the child proofed rooms, that is. So, he's off somewhere playing. I hear Yaz let out her mean "I'm going to eat you growl" and a few seconds later PJ cries. I realize they're in our bedroom and likely in or near her bed. I rush in there and she's across the room, and already hunkering down b/c she knows she's in trouble. PJ was unharmed. Hurt feelings were the only injuries sustained. That does not reduce my irritation at the dog. I growl at her, "What is wrong with you?? Go OUT." She scutters out of the bedroom, down the hall and to the back door, with me at her heels reminding her that that was a bad dog thing to do. As she slinks out the back door, I kick her in the ass. Grr. Being hormonal is not helping.
I'm sorry, it's getting hard to focus. This will have to be a short post today.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Hello loverseat... goodbye bed.
Well, any fears of being knocked up were knocked out tonight. Terrible horrible cramping. I hate cramping. It makes me want to just die. Seriously. Mainly because it's not sharp. It's this dull ache that's rough around the edges. It works its way outward, starting from my lower back and spreads like a slow burning fire to my legs, and my stomach, my arms, even my head. I lose any appetite, and I find concentration difficult. Sometimes, it feels like I'm radiating pain. As if somehow it is able to be felt by others if they venture too closely. Ick. Ack. Uck.
Not where I was wanting to go with this blog.. But it's too late now. My original plan was busted by the cramps.
Not where I was wanting to go with this blog.. But it's too late now. My original plan was busted by the cramps.
Hi.
Well, here goes. I've thought about starting up a blog on here a lot recently. Used to have one on myspace, but that place is just weird looking anymore. Let's see. Guess it would be appropriate to say a little about myself. I'm a wife to a wonderful man, even if he pisses me off sometimes, mother to what may possibly be the happiest toddler in the world, owner of a great dane and a tabby cat, daughter to 2 sets of parents, sister to a few people, etc etc. I attended college, but never graduated. Just.. well, it just wasn't my thing. My darling husband used to try to encourage me to finish, but I think (hope) he's given up pretty much. It's just soooo tedius and sooooo boring.
I'm a stay-at-home mom, and honestly it's so different than I anticipated it would be. I have both more and less time than I thought I would. I wouldn't trade it for the world. Being able to watch him learn so much every single day is amazing. He has taught me a lot about myself too.
I will readily admit. I have luggage, baggage, issues, whatever you want to call it. But I"m not in the right mindset to talk about it, so I won't. Perhaps later.
I don't have much else right now. I do, however, have a kitchen that's been neglected the past two days. errg.
I'm a stay-at-home mom, and honestly it's so different than I anticipated it would be. I have both more and less time than I thought I would. I wouldn't trade it for the world. Being able to watch him learn so much every single day is amazing. He has taught me a lot about myself too.
I will readily admit. I have luggage, baggage, issues, whatever you want to call it. But I"m not in the right mindset to talk about it, so I won't. Perhaps later.
I don't have much else right now. I do, however, have a kitchen that's been neglected the past two days. errg.
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