Awkward!

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

There are some people who just have this innate ability to just do just be social. They chat with ease, they engage others, they just are.

I heartily wish I was one of them. My humor does not seem to flow, things seem forced, I just don't know how to do that. I over think everything and then it becomes terribly awkward, for me and for the other person.

So I will watch in wonder how these people do it. It is just like school when the cool kids were, well, cool, and I was just utterly clueless as to how to do that.

In my head I will sit there and play out what 'lines' I should say, what the character I am should do, but what I should say or do remains a mystery. Which then leads me to look odd because I do not say anything, or worse, I dominate the conversation and make everything about me, when it is not. Not even a little.

~yet another confession from me, a clueless mom.

everyday annoyance

Monday, April 25, 2011

Everyone has pet peeves that get under the skin and just fester. One of mine is losing things. It drives me bananas. I can't find my brown shoe. I do not wear this shoe often but I wanted to wear it to Saturday services and I could not find one of them. My daughter was playing dress up with them last week, which in general I am really okay with. But when I can'f find something of mine? Watch out, I can be a little shrew-ish.

I have looked almost everywhere, clearly, not everywhere because I have not found the darn shoe. I WANT MY SHOE. DARN IT. So now I will dwell on my missing shoe- until it turns up.

It is not just shoes; whenever I cannot find something I go a little nuts. It makes me batty. Ask the kids, I lose my mind. I have a laser like focus on locating the lost object and am extremely distraught until I find it. They get recruited to help me search for things. It is not a good sign when the six year old tells me to "just breath, Mama!

Possession May Be 9/10 Of The Law..

Friday, April 22, 2011

But perspective is 9/10 of an individual's reality.

I have been fairly open in the past about my experiences in treatment in Utah. From my perspective it was, interesting. At the time I would have gone on a bitter raged filled diatribe on how my parents were cruel and awful. It was my perspective.

Recently, a friend of mine has struggled with her adolescent son. I see her pain. I see her frustration. I can see her son's side too, I can see what it feels like to feel totallay alone, to feel abandoned to feel just awful. Neither place is pleasent.

This has allowed me to see what my parents may have went through making the desperate choice to send a child away, to people they hoped and prayed would help. I'll admit that I still have twinges of disbelief that my parents ever cared about me that much, or were so worried and so scared. Regardless, this has allowed me to see things through a different set of eyes.

It is a lot easier to paint the other person as the villan. As the teenager it was easy to see my parents as dictators who were cruel and mean. As parents it is easier to see the kids as the problem and not recognize that everyone plays into it.

More than ever I am so sorry I put my parents through that. I am immensly grateful we came out of it ok.

If my parents went through even a fraction of what my friend is, I am more sorry that I can explain. I cannot imagine being in a situation like that. I hope that I will never know.

Some Technical Difficulities

My laptop did not fair well when matched against a tire iron. FYI, I do not think most laptops to fair well against tire irons.
(side note: THIS WAS NOT MY FAULT)

So please excuse the silence- I am not intentionally neglecting my blog

Love,

Me

Pyeloplasty Fail

Monday, April 18, 2011

Remember the stone issues of last year? The numerous procedures? Surgeries? Transfusions? Pulmonary Embolism?

The Pyelopasty was supposed to fix that. Apparently, it really didn't.

My post-op MAG-3 renal scan shows a "worsening UPJ obstruction" but my kidney drains well with Lasix. Even the doctor was kind of baffled by that.

What does it mean? At some point I'll need to have further surgery to work on it. But, that is not now. Currently, I am having only minor discomfort, and I have no new stones. Until, I start to have more stones we'll wait and watch with renal scans every 6 months.

I can live with that. There really isn't a choice is there?

Take it all off....

Sunday, April 17, 2011

When I was pregnant I started getting into the habit of having a bikini wax. I could no longer see there to trim the garden so to speak... and some maintenance is necessary.

After a bit I got used to it and decided to go for everything off. The first time was not nearly as bad as I had anticipated. I was expecting a bloody massacre. Involving and necessitating narcotic pain management. I even wore my crappy hole nasty underwear in preparation for the battle that would ensue.

Since then I have continued said up keep- but as that can get really expensive really fast I have yet to 'bond' with a waxer. Also it seems kind of strange to go to a person only for that.

Thus, I have shopped around a bit. I found one person who is AMAZING but a pain to get to- but it may be worth it after the brutal assault that my lady parts survived the other day.

It was the most painful wax ever. The wax was scalding, and that is not a place that likes to be scaled,FYI. Then it just did not go well. It was not like the horror stories that I have heard from some women about skin tearing and bruising, but it was not the simple process that I have had before.

A girl I take pole dancing with does sugaring- I think I'll give that a shot in a few weeks- and take a few pain pills before hand as a precaution.

Eats on Feets

Friday, April 15, 2011

Recently, the FDA has come out with statements that discourage the mama to mama sharing of breast milk through Facebook or other groups.

I feel a need to address this as a milk donor.

Sure sharing has risks. So does riding a bike. The risks are very different but the idea is the same: you need to be responsible.

I would not give a mother any milk that I would not feed my baby- but that is just me. There are of course some loonies out there. While you cannot guard against every risk you can take basic precautions.

Ask for and look at the mother's prenatal blood work. Meet her and her baby- observe her if things don't seem right pass on the milk- there will be other donors. Ask the basic questions: do you smoke, use drugs... etc.

There are a lot of sites to help you decide what you should ask, MilkShare is a great resource.

Sharing milk is a very personal choice. Personally, I have had my baby nurse from other women when I was unable to do so and I am exceptionally grateful I had women in my life who were willing and able to do so. Because I am personal friends with them, I felt safe having my baby have their milk. But, as a mom who has been on both sides I truly appreciate the leap of faith that a mama must make to feed her baby another woman's milk.

Being able to feed another woman's baby is a huge honor. I feel privileged to be chosen to be able to provide that to her.

Honestly, I wish milk sharing was more common and de-stigmatized. If it was more mainstream maybe milk banks would not charge such an obscene amount for their milk and more mothers would consider it as an option. Human breast milk is meant for human babies. Cow milk is meant for baby cows

My door is unhinged my rope is frayed

Thursday, April 14, 2011

I have posted before about Peas being a lot of person in a little body.. she is. A lot.

and am completely baffled at what to do with her.

It is hard to describe even what she does... it is just A LOT.

She pesters Stinky and pesters (Stinky is far from blameless here). When she gets mad or frustrated she hits and throws and bites.

Stinky did not want her near him she objected, she bent his finger back. Then she would not stay on time out for hurting him.

I am exhausted by her. Trying to be optimistic and understanding is great- but just can't right now.

A kick in the teeth-- or boob

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Mastitis is like a swift kick in the teeth or boob.

A summary-

* I was a little bit tired for a week
* Wednesday my throat was sore
* Thursday I woke up and was fine
* After breakfast I noticed my breast was sore
* Around 10 I thought I was dying
* By 11 I wished I would die
* Around noon I took as hot of a bath as I could stand then dressed in fleece, pjs, long sleeve shirt, bathrobe, sweatshirt and a towel on my head: I was a hot mess.
* I went to the doctor at 4:30- I had mastitis, aka, the flu of the breast

It sucked. Hot showers, my pump, and rice bags became the order of the day.

Why is it when something hurts my kids seem so much more drawn to try and touch me there? Of course they also used me being off my game to act up more than normal... apparently it is possible for my kids to act up even more- who knew!

Friday morning I had an ultrasound and I learned my mastitis had progressed to abscesses. Fab.

Saturday morning I was admitted to the hospital for IV antibiotics and possible surgery.

Great. Just great.

The antibiotic they used was Vancomycin the mother of all antibiotics. It worked.

I also received narcotic pain medication-- good stuff. It made it almost worth it.

At the end though I was begging to get out. It was the first nice weekend of the spring!

Haunted Van

Sunday, April 10, 2011

I was picking up Peas the other day and I had reclined my seat to wait for her- I was sick you see, and I was not going to let the chance to doze pass me by.

My driver side seat of course got stuck down. Of course it did. What else would happen? I turn the car off let it sit then turned it on and tried again.. nothing.

What else to do except get home and deal with it? Put Peas in her seat strapped her in and climbed in and prepared for an interesting ride home.

As we drove down the busiest rode in the area, all of a sudden the seat back started to come up all by itself. So strange. Now it would have been really freaky if we had been driving by a cemetery or something...

The one with the spots

Friday, April 8, 2011

One of the funniest parts of mamahood is listening to the kids conversations especially with their friends.

Princess has one friend who comes over pretty often. The other day they were sitting in the back of my van chatting and I over heard the following exchange (this is not verbatim but close)

Friend, "you know my brother, B? He is getting a car"
Princess "Is he 16? Can he drive?"
Friend "He is turning 16 soon"
Princess "That means he only has a couple more years until he is a real grown up!" (I had a hard time not giggling)
Friend "He is going to get his drivers license"
Princess "Wait, which one is he? The one with the polka dots on his face?" (she meant acne)
Friend "Yes"
Princess "Is that because he does not take care of his skin?" (I did not have the heart to tell her that acne is almost a right of passage....)

Green Playgrounds

When I was a kid we had playgrounds that would never be allowed today. The climbing things were giant, and wood with splinters, cushioned with pea gravel. The slides were metal and in the summer could be scorching hot.http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

Truth be told I kinda miss the days of "living on the edge" in the playground.

But as safety standards have evolved products have also evolved. At a playground near my parents house the surface is made of ruberecyle- or recycled tires chopped up into rubber mulch. It is actually pretty cool. It is very cushy to land on (I may have tested that accidentally). Tires used to be one of the banes of a green-living person. I remember being lectured on how awful they were- so how cool that something is being done with them.

Being that this is April- the month of Earth day and all things green are inherently in now I looked a little more into this trend. I was so surprised to see that they offer Equestrian Arena Footing. This is pretty great. When I would ride in the summer the sand and dust would be unbearable often we had to water the arena to keep the dust from choking the horses and riders.

Mistakes

Everyone makes them right?
Thins spill, get broken, get messed up, it happens its life.

When I make a mistake I am gripped with fear an anxiety. When I was a kid, and I would make a mistake my parents would be mad at me- like I was not supposed to make them. Which led me to try and hide any mistake I would make and appear perfect. This failed. For a long time I honestly believed that no one else was as clumsy or scatterbrained or stupid as I was.

When my friend told me about doing something as a child and then going to tell her parents about it voluntarily I was floored, "wouldn't they be mad?" I asked. They weren't they expected help cleaning it up, but did not degrade or chastise her for it.

I however would live in fear of my parents finding out, I did not want them to be mad or disappointed.

So now I am a mother myself and when things get spilled (as happens all the time) I do not want them to be afraid or feel like less of a person. I want them to learn from the mistake and then help clean it up or fix it. But I still struggle with my knee jerk reaction to get crabby about it and to yell at my kids about it, and I have had to apologize more than once for my poor reaction

To point, yesterday, Princess spilled a large smoothie in my room it splattered everywhere. Initially, I started to yell. Then I took a deep breath and asked her what happened, she told me, and we cleaned it up together, no harm no foul.

I hope that my kids will not inherit the fear of mistakes that I have. I hope they will have the self confidence to know that mistakes happen and that I will always love them no matter what.

Same dream slight variation

Thursday, April 7, 2011

When I am stressed or feeling overwhelmed I often have dreams of Utah- of being trapped there. Typically, there are variations on characters- Alan is always there though. Last night, I had a new variation on the same dream, again, Alan was there, I was stuck there but this time there was an addition: my kids. They were with me, trapped also, and I was helpless to help them.

This dream was kind of strange for another reason: we got out. Somehow- I don't recall how it happened but we got out. This is the first time that has ever happened in a Utah dream.

Default

Monday, April 4, 2011

It has been a stressful few weeks. Sick kids, tired mama, a friends tragedy... just a lot.

I was overwhelmed. Stressed... at my limit.

It is kind of easy to see when I get very stressed and overwhelmed. My eating changes, my tone changes, I have dreams about Utah, and I kind of reset to the Utah rules.

My clothes are folded to PCS structure, my bed is made to PCS structure; as I get more stressed more PCS things come out. I become obsessive about cleaning, schedule crazy.. it is interesting to say the least.

Defaulting to these behaviors is a lot better than the alternative of defaulting to more severe eating issues or other things.

It is a place that my brain can go into neutral for a while. So I can re-balance myself and deal with the issues at hand.

Do you have any default behaviors or habits that you do when stressed or overwhelmed?

what would you do

Sunday, April 3, 2011

The other day I had to go to Costco. You must understand that going to Costco is a little hellish, a big warehouse bright lights, odd smells it is just overwhelming. The saving grace- at least it was not a weekend I had to go because I bought fruit and it went bad in like 2 days. So I had to get my butt there and return it.

After I returned it we took a walk around to see if anything else was begging to be bought (and to get the things that I forgot). After paying (I spent under $50!! a FIRST in my Costco history), I was loading the stuff in to my car Peas and Pixie were still in the double cart (awesome idea, Costco, love these), and a few people approached the kids.

One of the women asked if she could take a photo of my kids to show her grandchildren back in the Philippines... I was totally taken a back--- umm, well hmm. I know my kids are cute but in my little paranoia mind it seemed really weird. So of course I paused for a moment while I thought of a polite reply. When I looked up again the lady was posing for a photo with Peas and Pixie who were eating it all up.

You could have knocked me over with a feather.

The lady took out a photo book and started talking with Peas and Pixie about her grandchildren and showed us several pictures of them.

Honestly, I am not worried about the photo. Maybe that is naive but the way the lady talked, and was dressed (who wears a fur to Costco?)everything really did not make me nervous about her..

How could I have handled this better- while being polite?

A sprint

Friday, April 1, 2011

A day would just not be a day in this house without some level of chaos or insanity.

Of course, today ends in 'y' so we had our fair share.

In an effort to be the most awesome mama ever, I was going to take the kids to McDonalds for lunch.

Coats were on, hats were on, shoes were on, we were ready to go. White Fang was ready to go too. She put her paws up on the glass door and out she went. FYI, that dog is fast . A Siberian Husky, according to breed websites, has a strong desire to run... and run she did. Quickly.

I sprinted out of the house and down the road calling her she would stop, turn and keep going like it was all a big game. Someone saw her run by and me running after her and called the police on her phone.

After a few blocks I gave up sprinted back home to pile everyone in the car to go chase the dog. As I was on the phone with the police, she ran up to my car panting. I oped the door and she hopped in, tail wagging.

My first thought was "crap, again?" because she got out last week too.
Second thought was "F**K, I hope she doesn't get hit by a car."

We got her back though, and I got my exercise for the day.

Memorial For Sweet Baby Rosemary

Our group of friends is pretty awesome.

One of the tech savvy members (not me- clearly) has put together a webpage for a memorial for her.http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

Please consider a donation of a few dollars to celebrate and remember the life of a sweet baby.

Memorial For Rosie