It's evil, so that should be it's urban name. "The pill" is just too benign, too innocent. So, I'm off it and things are looking so much brighter. Nothing like a little synthetic hormone f-ing with your system to make you close to crazy. :)
So, it's been too long. Update: Still looking for a house, no keepers just yet. There are tones of beautiful and cheep houses in the even smaller, rural towns surrounding my tiny rural town, but those towns lack our amazing Catholic culture and we have a really, really nice park--well two or three really, and I like our grocer (even if I can't afford to shop there) and A's grandparents are here....
*Side note, I'm not Catholic, but I should be. I'm probably never going to be, but I really like the saints a lot and also the churches are gorgeous and they have lots of candles and stuff. Just plain cool.
No new car yet, but our Subaru seems to be running like a champ; i.e. the transmission hasn't exploded yet! Notice how I name drop. Like to mention we've got a Subaru whenever I can. Also, she's tan. And a wagon. Are you jealous yet?
So, Simon's doing bad, but we're just off a three day (Subaru) stretch. Tomorrow we have a date! Sooooooo excited. :)
Ohhhh, we brewed beer! Caribou Slobber from Northern Brewer. They are awesome.
And I ran once.
So, there. That should bring us up to speed (Subaru). Well, also, one foray into possible day-shift employment, but that ended up being a dud and I'm sort of happy about it because it was at a different hospital and I love my hospital and my boss.
Later, bitches! I'm having "alone time" with my buddy--kid's asleep, dude is showered and we've got some decarbonated Infinity Grand Cru that really needs to make its home my belly. ;)
8.27.2012
8.19.2012
Honestly
Sometimes life's just hard. And I hate to complain, but there isn't enough lamenting and honesty, so I also hate to withhold the truth.
I struggle. With money and time and passions. There never seems to be enough to get ahead. Not time or money. And I feel like a failure as a provider because even though we have enough, it's just enough. And then I think of Africans with nothing and I'm just discontent as a rich American. But as Americans, we are far from rich. And I'd like to buy free-range meat, but a dollar more a pound is too much. And I'd love to get out of this hell-hole of a house--the walls are eating themselves from moisture (and this is after repairing the brick and mortar and completely re-plastering the walls and dehumidifying) and the basement is crumbing and moldy and fills when it rains and it's tiny. I think the size gets to me the most because there isn't enough room to live let alone breathe (again, according to rich American standards). But I'm stressed and tired from working third shift and being a nurse is exhausting mentally (sometimes physically). And I'm an introvert and never get alone time. And I'd love to can and grow a garden and make quilts and knit and embroider, but practically I only get through the basics. And I think if there was enough money to pay off debt (school loans) and save for a house and car and not just make it, I'd feel better about not doing the extracurriculars, but it just seems like nothing good happens. And I need new clothes because apparently after breastfeeding and turning 30 (almost) your hips get bigger and your boobs smaller so I have no pants or bras. But we also need a new (to us) car (our 14 year old Subaru is on her last leg), so I feel remiss buying clothing. And then there is Simon and his pain. And I do nothing for him. I help him in no real way. He suffers and there is nothing I can do to lesson his physical pain. And I know that the Lord loves us, but I feel He doesn't care about our daily life. And I know it isn't true, but I'd like Him to show me that. And I know it's an arrogant child that asks for a sign, but I think that's what I'm doing. I pray, but I don't ask Him for good things because I'm afraid. Afraid of nothing good ever happening and what that means. Not that God isn't God, but that He doesn't help us in this life. And He has helped me. He's given me Simon who is an amazing husband and rescuer. I would be dead if he hadn't come along. And He's given me peace and joy in life. And I don't believe in prosperity teaching--it's a lie and damaging. But this is my heart.
And this song, "Oh, God," is a really good comfort:
http://marshill.com/music/albums/already-not-yet
I struggle. With money and time and passions. There never seems to be enough to get ahead. Not time or money. And I feel like a failure as a provider because even though we have enough, it's just enough. And then I think of Africans with nothing and I'm just discontent as a rich American. But as Americans, we are far from rich. And I'd like to buy free-range meat, but a dollar more a pound is too much. And I'd love to get out of this hell-hole of a house--the walls are eating themselves from moisture (and this is after repairing the brick and mortar and completely re-plastering the walls and dehumidifying) and the basement is crumbing and moldy and fills when it rains and it's tiny. I think the size gets to me the most because there isn't enough room to live let alone breathe (again, according to rich American standards). But I'm stressed and tired from working third shift and being a nurse is exhausting mentally (sometimes physically). And I'm an introvert and never get alone time. And I'd love to can and grow a garden and make quilts and knit and embroider, but practically I only get through the basics. And I think if there was enough money to pay off debt (school loans) and save for a house and car and not just make it, I'd feel better about not doing the extracurriculars, but it just seems like nothing good happens. And I need new clothes because apparently after breastfeeding and turning 30 (almost) your hips get bigger and your boobs smaller so I have no pants or bras. But we also need a new (to us) car (our 14 year old Subaru is on her last leg), so I feel remiss buying clothing. And then there is Simon and his pain. And I do nothing for him. I help him in no real way. He suffers and there is nothing I can do to lesson his physical pain. And I know that the Lord loves us, but I feel He doesn't care about our daily life. And I know it isn't true, but I'd like Him to show me that. And I know it's an arrogant child that asks for a sign, but I think that's what I'm doing. I pray, but I don't ask Him for good things because I'm afraid. Afraid of nothing good ever happening and what that means. Not that God isn't God, but that He doesn't help us in this life. And He has helped me. He's given me Simon who is an amazing husband and rescuer. I would be dead if he hadn't come along. And He's given me peace and joy in life. And I don't believe in prosperity teaching--it's a lie and damaging. But this is my heart.
And this song, "Oh, God," is a really good comfort:
http://marshill.com/music/albums/already-not-yet
8.16.2012
8.10.2012
Mold Rights
So, we've got ourselves a weeeeeeee bit of black mold in the basement (and in the coat closet and behind the bookshelves and in the bathroom). I was sufficiently freaked out because everyone knows black mold comes alive at night and eats your babies. However, I did a little research, and I think we're going to be okay. No abductions imminent.
To spite the mold, we are looking for a new house. Actually, just pretty sure 630 square feet and no garage, a wet basement, and VERY limited storage will drive a person to distraction in a little under 1 month.
We've been living here for a total of 6 years now. (I say total, and there's a long story in that, all for another day.)
So, the look is on. No keepers yet, but I've got my hopes up and eyes peeled. We've gone through 7 houses, none too pretty. One was in nice shape, had a nice garage and basement and attic, but the main floor was, well, depressing as hell--tiny and claustrophobic. As sort of a main floor dweller, I wasn't impressed.
We're also currently looking for a car. A nice Honda Civic or Accord or the like preferably. I want good gas mileage and no breakdowns. Our little (meaning huge) Subaru Legacy wagon has served us dutifully--the thing's been a trouper. But last week, she started flashing "oil at temp" and was apparently trying to signal us to say that her transmission's on the fritz. After the weekend in the shop, the mechanic (or rather the coordinator) calls (good luck talking to a mechanic) and says, "We can't get the light to turn on, so we don't know what's wrong." "Whatdya they think she's just gonna open up to anybody?! She doesn't even know you guys." On the up side, the light's off and she's running. Not so great = the transmission could explode at any second (we only know it's the transmission because my husband's a whiz with cars, a whiz I tell ya!). And another thing, whose genius idea was it to make it impossible to fix a car without the computer saying what's wrong!?! Engineers! :/
P.S. I didn't just leave all the mold everywhere. I left it in the basement (hey, it's got to be free to incubate somewhere--mold rights), but the rest has been sufficiently bleached, vinegared, tea tree oiled, and scrubbed. Just so you know. I'm not a complete slacker.
To spite the mold, we are looking for a new house. Actually, just pretty sure 630 square feet and no garage, a wet basement, and VERY limited storage will drive a person to distraction in a little under 1 month.
We've been living here for a total of 6 years now. (I say total, and there's a long story in that, all for another day.)
So, the look is on. No keepers yet, but I've got my hopes up and eyes peeled. We've gone through 7 houses, none too pretty. One was in nice shape, had a nice garage and basement and attic, but the main floor was, well, depressing as hell--tiny and claustrophobic. As sort of a main floor dweller, I wasn't impressed.
We're also currently looking for a car. A nice Honda Civic or Accord or the like preferably. I want good gas mileage and no breakdowns. Our little (meaning huge) Subaru Legacy wagon has served us dutifully--the thing's been a trouper. But last week, she started flashing "oil at temp" and was apparently trying to signal us to say that her transmission's on the fritz. After the weekend in the shop, the mechanic (or rather the coordinator) calls (good luck talking to a mechanic) and says, "We can't get the light to turn on, so we don't know what's wrong." "Whatdya they think she's just gonna open up to anybody?! She doesn't even know you guys." On the up side, the light's off and she's running. Not so great = the transmission could explode at any second (we only know it's the transmission because my husband's a whiz with cars, a whiz I tell ya!). And another thing, whose genius idea was it to make it impossible to fix a car without the computer saying what's wrong!?! Engineers! :/
P.S. I didn't just leave all the mold everywhere. I left it in the basement (hey, it's got to be free to incubate somewhere--mold rights), but the rest has been sufficiently bleached, vinegared, tea tree oiled, and scrubbed. Just so you know. I'm not a complete slacker.
8.09.2012
My Kid is a Genius
Right. So, not trying to make you feel bad about yourself, but it's true, my kid's is a genius. Today she picked up the letter "T" and said tee. Then later, a "G" and said gee. The same with "C" and "D." And I say to Simon, "And it's not like those letters even rhyme!" And he's like, "Yeah, not at all." all sarcastic like. And I think sometimes I don't have a brain. But, anyway, she said them differently. I know she did. And it's all due to Sesame Street! Because I don't teach her a damn thing. Well, not true, but not book smart stuff. I just teach her how to be crazy and hormonal like a good woman should be. Baaaaaaaaaaaa.
So, on an entirely different note, I'm thinking of getting the Essure. Well, more than thinking, actually, I am. Not that the Mr. and I wouldn't want more kids, we'd both like 2 or 3 more really. But Simon's not doing well and the degenerative nature of SFN doesn't really make it look like things will be taking an up-swing for him. There is also the unknown genetic factor of SFN. Is it right to have a kid because you want one with the knowledge that they may be very, very sick? Is it better to have lived and lost, than to have never lived at all? I wouldn't judge anyone who chose differently, but it's a factor in my decision. It isn't in Simon's ironically. But anyway, Essure it is.
In the mean time, they put me on the pill (which I'm against for a million different reasons--psychoses being a big one, the possibility of a fertilized egg not being able to implant in my thinned uterus being paramount). But they said I must so they can know my cycle is regular. Again, baaaaaaaaaaaa.
So, I've accepted that we're a family of three. And I'm happy to be so, but honestly, I'm also so sad. No siblings for the kiddo, no more little cuddle buddies for me. No sons. But I have my Simon and my amazingly beautiful and bright and crazy little girl. I can't say I'm not totally blessed. Lots of negatives there, ending in a positive--just like life.
Up next: Houses and Cars and Black Mold
So, on an entirely different note, I'm thinking of getting the Essure. Well, more than thinking, actually, I am. Not that the Mr. and I wouldn't want more kids, we'd both like 2 or 3 more really. But Simon's not doing well and the degenerative nature of SFN doesn't really make it look like things will be taking an up-swing for him. There is also the unknown genetic factor of SFN. Is it right to have a kid because you want one with the knowledge that they may be very, very sick? Is it better to have lived and lost, than to have never lived at all? I wouldn't judge anyone who chose differently, but it's a factor in my decision. It isn't in Simon's ironically. But anyway, Essure it is.
In the mean time, they put me on the pill (which I'm against for a million different reasons--psychoses being a big one, the possibility of a fertilized egg not being able to implant in my thinned uterus being paramount). But they said I must so they can know my cycle is regular. Again, baaaaaaaaaaaa.
So, I've accepted that we're a family of three. And I'm happy to be so, but honestly, I'm also so sad. No siblings for the kiddo, no more little cuddle buddies for me. No sons. But I have my Simon and my amazingly beautiful and bright and crazy little girl. I can't say I'm not totally blessed. Lots of negatives there, ending in a positive--just like life.
Up next: Houses and Cars and Black Mold
8.06.2012
Moron Awakening
Dude, last posting was verbose! I'll try to tone it down a bit this time.
So, I had an awakening last Saturday. I'm at this party, right, and I'm mingling with the Regs, and this 2-year-old comes up to me and says, "Hi, I'm Elaine, I'm two, I'm gonna sing you a song. Twinkle, twinkle, little star...." And I'm like, "Whoa, who let this baby in here?!"
JK. It was a church party.
Anyway, for reals, I'm like, "Whoa, this kid is one month older than my kid. My kid doesn't talk, but holy-hell, her brain is not where I thought it was." Her comprehension and intelligence is like quadrupled what I thought it was. I mean, when someone just stares at you and blinks her little eye-lids when you talk to her, you think 1 of 2 things: 1) "Awwwww, she's not understanding me." or 2) "I must be the biggest moron in the world." I had been leaning toward 1, now I pick 2.
P.S. I promise to start adding pictures soon! This post would be soooooooooo much better if you got to see the little "you're an idiot" face.
So, I had an awakening last Saturday. I'm at this party, right, and I'm mingling with the Regs, and this 2-year-old comes up to me and says, "Hi, I'm Elaine, I'm two, I'm gonna sing you a song. Twinkle, twinkle, little star...." And I'm like, "Whoa, who let this baby in here?!"
JK. It was a church party.
Anyway, for reals, I'm like, "Whoa, this kid is one month older than my kid. My kid doesn't talk, but holy-hell, her brain is not where I thought it was." Her comprehension and intelligence is like quadrupled what I thought it was. I mean, when someone just stares at you and blinks her little eye-lids when you talk to her, you think 1 of 2 things: 1) "Awwwww, she's not understanding me." or 2) "I must be the biggest moron in the world." I had been leaning toward 1, now I pick 2.
P.S. I promise to start adding pictures soon! This post would be soooooooooo much better if you got to see the little "you're an idiot" face.
8.04.2012
I Lied
I lied. I'm not going to do "introductions." How's about you just get to know us through reading this blog.
Ah ha! See, now I've got you. Who doesn't want to know me and my little fam?!
So, phew! Rough start today. Well, second start. I worked last night, so technically I started my day at work. And that was alright. But then I came home from work and slept and got up and that's when things got screwy.
I was sooooooooooooooooooooo tired this morning, unusually tired. But I had to eat some leftover grilled chicken (which was amazing--I will share the recipe sometime) because I was thinking about it all night at work and drink some orange juice because it sounded good (hmmmmm, actually sounds really good right now too, damn! I hope I'm not preggo). Anyway, I dozed off nursing the babe (yep, I nurse my almost 2 year old) and consequently got to bed later than desired. So far, not so bad.
The little one usually comes in to nap with me around noon and did today as per usual, but today she was wired and ended up keeping me awake for a half hour before climbing out of bed. She did pull the door closed on her way out, so that was nice. 1:30 she was back and fell half-asleep and was the wiggliest worm I've ever met! I kept waiting for her to fall full-asleep, so I could sneak out and pee and take some ibuprofen--killer lack of sleep headache--but she never did. Finally, I just take the plunge and tell her we have to get up.
Yikes. That didn't go over well. So now I'm mad. Too tired to deal with wining and clinging (which is excessive when my Paczek is tired). And the best way I can think of to keep from screaming like a banshee and throwing everything in the house away (sort of my coping mechanism)--pick on my buddy. Hey, yeah, that's a good idea. Add insult to injury and blame the husband. After all, he did bring the kid in to nap, twice today. Grrrrrrrrr.
So, after assuring him he ruined my life and making him promise to never bring her in to nap, ever again, after 1P (because that's obviously the problem here), I feel guilty. Turns out he had a terrible night, didn't sleep at all from pain, and was feeling desperate for a break. And to be perfectly honest, the kid is a great napper. Every day about 12:30/1 she's out for the count. Who would think she wouldn't nap?
Well, after apologies, I think, hmmmm, TV! TV is just what my kid needs (we all need). So I go to put a Peep in, and am met with intensified distress cries. Really?! My child has never refused TV, ever. She's a total junkie. I tell her all the time it's going to rot her brain, but she doesn't even care. Turns out she doesn't want to watch Peep, but settles for Classical Baby which is promptly shut off because someone can't listen and pushes every button on the dvd player/tv/receiver. Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggg.
Somehow the boundary setting turns my kid happy and all of a sudden we're all sitting together on the couch and she's happy to play with her purse and bracelets and I'm happy to lie there sipping my delicious black gold (Starbucks Sumatra). And I haven't hurt Simon's feelings too badly (even though I also shimmied in a scold for not fixing my nose retainer and another for being such a softie with the kid). And then my delicate little princess thinks it'd be fun to climb onto the top of the couch and jump on me. Which may well have been fun, but also spilled my coffee. :(
Oh, well. All's well that ends well. Simon wouldn't agree, but I've got no short or long term memory at all, so I'm generally pretty happy. Anyway...
Wadsworth: "And to make a long story short."
Everyone: "TOO LATE!"
I ended up taking the kid outside (she was in heaven) (me too to be honest), Simon got a tiny break, and then I headed into work.
See, fascinating, right? ;)
Ah ha! See, now I've got you. Who doesn't want to know me and my little fam?!
So, phew! Rough start today. Well, second start. I worked last night, so technically I started my day at work. And that was alright. But then I came home from work and slept and got up and that's when things got screwy.
I was sooooooooooooooooooooo tired this morning, unusually tired. But I had to eat some leftover grilled chicken (which was amazing--I will share the recipe sometime) because I was thinking about it all night at work and drink some orange juice because it sounded good (hmmmmm, actually sounds really good right now too, damn! I hope I'm not preggo). Anyway, I dozed off nursing the babe (yep, I nurse my almost 2 year old) and consequently got to bed later than desired. So far, not so bad.
The little one usually comes in to nap with me around noon and did today as per usual, but today she was wired and ended up keeping me awake for a half hour before climbing out of bed. She did pull the door closed on her way out, so that was nice. 1:30 she was back and fell half-asleep and was the wiggliest worm I've ever met! I kept waiting for her to fall full-asleep, so I could sneak out and pee and take some ibuprofen--killer lack of sleep headache--but she never did. Finally, I just take the plunge and tell her we have to get up.
Yikes. That didn't go over well. So now I'm mad. Too tired to deal with wining and clinging (which is excessive when my Paczek is tired). And the best way I can think of to keep from screaming like a banshee and throwing everything in the house away (sort of my coping mechanism)--pick on my buddy. Hey, yeah, that's a good idea. Add insult to injury and blame the husband. After all, he did bring the kid in to nap, twice today. Grrrrrrrrr.
So, after assuring him he ruined my life and making him promise to never bring her in to nap, ever again, after 1P (because that's obviously the problem here), I feel guilty. Turns out he had a terrible night, didn't sleep at all from pain, and was feeling desperate for a break. And to be perfectly honest, the kid is a great napper. Every day about 12:30/1 she's out for the count. Who would think she wouldn't nap?
Well, after apologies, I think, hmmmm, TV! TV is just what my kid needs (we all need). So I go to put a Peep in, and am met with intensified distress cries. Really?! My child has never refused TV, ever. She's a total junkie. I tell her all the time it's going to rot her brain, but she doesn't even care. Turns out she doesn't want to watch Peep, but settles for Classical Baby which is promptly shut off because someone can't listen and pushes every button on the dvd player/tv/receiver. Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggg.
Somehow the boundary setting turns my kid happy and all of a sudden we're all sitting together on the couch and she's happy to play with her purse and bracelets and I'm happy to lie there sipping my delicious black gold (Starbucks Sumatra). And I haven't hurt Simon's feelings too badly (even though I also shimmied in a scold for not fixing my nose retainer and another for being such a softie with the kid). And then my delicate little princess thinks it'd be fun to climb onto the top of the couch and jump on me. Which may well have been fun, but also spilled my coffee. :(
Oh, well. All's well that ends well. Simon wouldn't agree, but I've got no short or long term memory at all, so I'm generally pretty happy. Anyway...
Wadsworth: "And to make a long story short."
Everyone: "TOO LATE!"
I ended up taking the kid outside (she was in heaven) (me too to be honest), Simon got a tiny break, and then I headed into work.
See, fascinating, right? ;)
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