Who Am I To Say No?

My friend Torey suggested I start "Bitch Fest Friday"... and I was like... well... I was probably going to do it anyway why not share the joy?!


So here you go...

Today is Bitch Fest Friday.

That means that YOU are free to bitch about your life in the comments.

Cause lets face it... sometimes you just need to get things off your chest and stop being such a big person about your problems. Sometimes you need to whine about them for a bit and cry like a little baby.

I hear you.

You know I hear you.

The rest of your day you can pull yourself together and put on a happy face... but here... you can be a basket case.

That might be my new motto.

Feeling Tried

Lately I feel like I spend all my time just trying to get back up.
When I let myself dwell on it I can sometimes think we have a lot of bad luck.
It just doesn't seem like everyone else goes through all this.... all the time.
I wonder what it would be like to have a couple of months of just regular life.
A life where things unfold without crisis.
I wonder what it would be like to actually live life instead of react to it.
I feel like I am always reacting.
And it is exhausting.

ER Follow Up

She most likely has Erythema Multiforme. What started out as hives turned into a more severe allergic reaction (so not stress related... I had wondered that too). In retrospect I do know when it changed... so next time I'll be quicker on the uptake.

She's on steroids now. Since she's had hives in the past we'll have her tested for allergies. This could be an allergic reaction to food, etc. or it can be an allergic reaction to a virus... which is what we're assuming right now. Just to be sure we're discontinuing the foods she's had in the last couple of days (of course with Putty dying I wasn't exactly paying 100% attention to that). She goes in for a follow up tomorrow.

We are now supposed to look out for the symptoms of THIS. Cause you know if it's my kids they can't just get the regular version of something they have to get the crazy ridiculous life threatening one. Awesome. Two year olds are super complaint with mucus membrane checks... they love it.

On the positive side I did the right thing. I didn't overreact or under react. They said I followed it perfectly and brought her in just in time.

Well, I suppose that means I should have brought her in last night but whatever... close enough.

I absolutely love it when doctors tell you that things are okay UNLESS they aren't and then you need to RUSH BACK HERE because this can become a medical emergency.

I love that.

I haven't had enough of that in my seven years of parenting.

Good News Bad News

Well the bad news is MY DOG IS DEAD.

The good news is that it has completely taken my mind off of "project change" (or lack thereof... whichever it may ultimately be).


As far as the grieving goes... it's still going. I am shocked at how grief stricken I am. I never really appreciated what the loss of a pet was like for someone before this. I really feel like what I would up until now only have thought you could only feel for a person. I said to Mr F that I have to rank this right below losing either him or the kids. Not just because I have spent everyday all day for over a decade with him (or... yes... maybe that is it) but also because dogs are so dependent on you. They need you. And that is where the guilt comes in. As I said to Kid "unfortunately Putty didn't speak English and he couldn't tell us if something was wrong." And, right now, that is killing me. The what ifs. I'm working really hard to let them go as they come up... but they do come up about every 5 minutes.


I'd love to have something else to write about... but other than watching the horrifyingly large hives that have taken over Baby's body... I've got nothing but tears.

This week has been one of those weeks where I just want to turn my grownup badge back in.

I just want to get one of those beer helmets and pop some cold cans of cherry coke in them and watch 12 straight hours of real estate shows on HGTV.

But Baby just woke up. The hives are now around her eyes. We're off to the ER.

Heartbroken

My chest literally aches. I just keep seeing all his puppy days running through my mind. Then I see his bone left under my desk. His food bowl still filled waiting for him to come home and eat it. His basket of toys overturned in the living room.

I'm devastated.

Just completely devastated.

You can read Mr F's eulogy HERE.

Rest In Peace

We are both grief stricken and shocked to report that today at 12:30 PM our dog passed away of sudden heart failure. This was unexpected and we are having a hard time processing such devastating news.

Putty

March 1st, 1999 - September 28th, 2009

Down For The Count

We had a fabulous time this weekend (really we did... pictures, etc. to come)

Except for that pesky food poisoning...

Should've listened to Barry and gone to Taco Boy!

Taking A Break

We're packing up and heading to the beach. I'll be back in a few days. We need this.

While I'm gone, if you are the praying type... or positive energy type... wishing and hoping type...or cast a magical spell type, please send your thoughts and prayers to my dear friend Meagan up in Alaska. Her husband was just diagnosed with B-Cell Lymphoma. He is currently undergoing weeks of painful tests and procedures as they try and identify what stage it is at. Their first baby is due in late December.

I love you Meagan and I'm hoping for the best and praying for you guys! Hang in there! I'm thinking of you.

Not So Quiet Desperation

I'm stuck and hurting and alone.

I've never felt more alone in my life... than I do now... here.

It's hard to even verbalize the deep pit I feel... the entrapment... the fear that I might not get out.

The loneliness.

The wrongness.

This year has been a hard, trying, learning experience.

And I'm grateful for it. Really, I am. It's changed me and my perspective, and my priorities... and my marriage.

and while part of me feels stronger... like I've been prepared for a battle... the other part is lame, and sore, and maybe lost.

The part that is about me.

Not the part about being a good wife or a caring mother.

The part that is just about me.

Cat's Got My Tongue

I've been asked to zip it for a bit on a certain subject.

Well, for the life of me I just can't think of another stinking thing to say.

It's like if I can't write about the ONE THING ON MY FREAKING MIND then what is the point?! I feel like I need to think up a post every morning and, frankly, I hate that. I've got enough other stuff on my plate that I don't need to feel like I need to come up with a blog post.

So while we wait I'll try to get inspired by something other than the thing which is truly interesting.

But until the gag order is lifted I can make you no promises as to the quality (or genuineness) of this blog.

You've been warned.

Just To Tide You Over

Got My Hands Full

This little fella dropped in today. This is the baby I'll be watching... am watching I suppose I should say. They needed me to fill in at the last minute today. I was happy to oblige as I'm not turning down money at this point.

I hadn't been planning on him or I would have taken care of our errands over the weekend (thank God we had cleaned!). As it stood I had to go today. With Baby and the baby... in the pouring rain. It's been a long time since I've had to juggle one of those ridiculously heavy and cumbersome infant car seats. Doing that in the rain while making (asking... hoping) Baby to walk through the parking lot holding onto my purse was STRESSFUL. But we made it. Kids are funny like that. I often am amazed at how they'll rise to a challenge when they have to... almost like all they needed was for there to be a real need for them to take up appropriate behavior.

I did my best to be as quick as possible. Not having watched him before I don't know his quirks... or his patience level... and I did not want to mess with him right off the bat. Shopping with Baby is stressful enough... with her penchant for dismounting from the cart... or lodging herself underneath... or squashing expensive raspberries... or throwing glass jars onto the checkout belt. So I was STRESSED. Then of course my phone rang (people NO ONE calls me... ever) and fearing it was a school emergency I rushed to check it... MR F. Oh I wanted to shoot him. He knew where I was and what I was doing! Like I had an extra hand for answering the phone and having a chit chat! Give me a break for once!!

As it turns out the call was worth the trouble. More on that later.

Priorities

On Friday as we cleaned up the dinner dishes I asked Mr F...

"What is the one thing you miss most about not having money? What's the first thing you'd add back?"

"Going out to eat." He said.

"Me too." I replied.

Not vacations. Not new cars. Not furniture or clothes. Just give us a decent restaurant!

I can suck everything else up. I can budget out grocery money. He can drive a junker. But FOR THE LOVE OF GOD we just want to be able to go to a restaurant (not fancy folks!) and order WHAT WE WANT. And not even think about it.

Going out to eat had the biggest impact on our daily quality of life.

And it's the first thing we're adding back.

I'm not saying every day... but... once a week... that would be amazing! Just to be able to relax and enjoy someone else's cooking. Talk to my family. I really miss that.




What's yours?

This Weekend Is Getting Off To A Rough Start

After 2 weeks of deadlines for Mr F (which means virtually no down time with us or sleep)... he is devoting this weekend to his "project". Which means... virtually no down time or sleep.

I, of course, am hardly doing any better.

Ever since returning from our trip this summer Baby wakes up a MINIMUM of two times a night with nightmares. Nightmares not night terrors. Even if I don't have to settle her back to sleep... it wakes me up. Which means I'm running on 2 (maybe 3) hour stretches of sleep. And I'm suffering.

It's been 7 years since I slept through the night.

I'm ready.

On top of that I seem to have gotten a stomach bug. I woke up in the night barely able to walk. I couldn't find the door to my bedroom and couldn't keep myself from toppling over. I thought I was going to knock myself unconscious. No fever. But something isn't right. I'm staying in my pajamas today.

Kid meanwhile has her first homework assignment. She's more than a little stressed out about it. Someone grant me patience... cause it's running thin around here.

As if it isn't bad enough that I'm tired and sick and Mr F needs to work (at top level concentration... because... Sweet Jesus... get me out of here) and that Kid has been sulking around doing homework (it's a Saturday for the love of God... and she's 6!!). But it's also "Tom Swayer Day" at Kid's school. The day we have to shlep mulch or fix things around the school... in return they credit back some of your money ($10/hour).

Well, obviously, we need to max that credit out. Of course today is just not a good day for this... alas... Mr F had to go (and sign me in even though I'm not going... shhh... hey... they owe me 3 hours for sewing last month and I intend to collect!). I'm really needing a break and it's depressingly obvious that that isn't happening for me this weekend.

To top this morning off as I went to pop their highly debated movie in for the girls ("My Web"... as Baby cutely calls it), so they'll leave me in peace, our damn DVD claims it can't read it. So... I am valiantly offering up my computer.

And that is the greatest sacrifice of all!

So if you're wondering where I am... I'm in my chair... trying to stay hydrated... trying to block out the sounds of bickering children... and eating a bucketful of animal crackers.



P.S. Thanks to everyone who has commented this week. I am sorry that I haven't returned everyone's comments. I've been stretched to about my breaking point time and energy wise this week. I did read them... and always... greatly appreciate the time and effort you make to leave them! I'm hoping I'll be back to normal soon!! And I'm hoping we'll have word on our developments with in a few weeks. At which point I will share them... good or bad.

Wishful Thinking

"Mom when is Nude Day?" Kid asks me after school.

"What do you mean?" I return.

"You know the day when everyone takes of their clothes and celebrates being naked." Kid clarifies.

"Umm... there is no day like that." I reply.

Worth The Wait

This week Mr F finally installed this swing we purchased at Ikea several YEARS ago. We never had a really good spot for it in Ann Arbor (why did we buy it then?... it was cheap... that's why).

Ever since moving here we have had visions of it out here on the big porch.

It only took a year for our vision to finally become reality (which in Mr F home improvement terms is practically overnight!)...

Weight Watcher

Wondering what's up on the weight loss front?

Well... there is no loss. You will notice that little turtle has been taking a nice long snooze over there in the grass.

I've stopped trying to lose. I'm working on my fitness.

If I just focus on working out I really can eat what I want and maintain. If I want to weigh less than I do now I'll have to make a commitment to diet. AND right now I don't want to do that.

Because...

Kid asked me something about my "diet" the other week. I was just like... shit. Because the whole thing for me is being a good role model for my girls. They get it. They get that I workout and that that is part of being a healthy grownup. For Kid to pick up that I'm at all dissatisfied with my physically fit size four self... is a fucking problem. (excuse my French) That is exactly what I don't want to model. That is exactly what will mess them up in the head. And even though I try to be very careful of what I do and say in front of them... I let myself get caught up in some old behaviors and Kid noticed.

It is important to me that they see me live a full life. That they see me eat and enjoy food. Make healthy choices. Eat when I'm hungry and stop when I'm full. That they see me eat the damn cake.

So the "diet" isn't happening right now. The truth is that I don't need to weigh less than I do. And while I'd like to get down to where I was... that... was a feeling of fitness not thinness. And I know I can get back to that (slowly) without focusing too much on changing the way I eat. Because... and this is important... I don't want to. The way I eat now is how I intend to eat FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. And it is the exact right amount of food for me to intake and maintain my weight. The key to my success really is the exercise. And that is where I'm going to put my energy.

When I focus too much on food... it starts to control me. And I'm actually more likely to fail. To sabotage. When I focus on fitness I ALWAYS feel more empowered. I walk away feeling in control. And that is what I want to feel and what I want to model for the kids. Being IN CONTROL of myself.

Get Crackin'

This morning I was flipping through an old Cooking Light magazine. I stumbled on an article about eggs.

You know I try to have the best quality food I can have in this house. I am particularly driven to buy organic produce, and organic hormone free dairy and meat. But eggs? Eggs have always mystified me. There are so many choices, even in the health food store, and under the 15 second pressure I have to make my selection I never can figure out which is "best".

When we're struggling financially eggs just seem like one of those things I'm willing to cut corners on. I hate to say this... but it has seemed to me that what I'm paying for is the quality of life for the chickens. And, believe me, I'm all for that. I really am. Enough to spend $3.79 a dozen... when... we have the money.

When we don't I need it for the diary, produce, and meat. Because that effects (in my opinion) the quality of life for my children.

But am I wrong?

Now that school is back in session and Kid takes a hardboiled egg in her lunch bag EVERY SINGLE DAY I make sure to buy the best quality I can afford. But for the eggs I bake with I might buy a cheaper dozen.

But when I think I've paid good money for good eggs and well treated hens... am I?

Turns out sometimes I'm not.



So here is the label breakdown according to Cooking Light:

Organic
Birds must be cage free with outdoor access
Cannot be given antibiotics
their food must be organic & vegetarian

Certified Humane Raised & Handled
Meet humane requirements for raising and handling chickens and eggs.

Cage Free
Chickens are out of cages with continuous access to food and water.
They may not have access to the outdoors.

Animal Welfare Approved
Independent family farms with flocks up to 500 birds.
Chickens are free to spend as much time as they desire outdoors on pesticide-free pasture.
Cannot have trimmed beaks.

United Egg Produces Certified
Gives food and water to caged hens.

The following terms are unregulated... so... it might not be wise to pay more for them (ouch! I have!! many times!):
Natural
Naturally Raised
No Hormones
No Antibiotics


So that is the long and the short of it. I am still unclear if "Free Range" has any meaning (I believe once I watched an expose that revealed that it did not mean what we'd think it meant). Or what it really matters (to me) what feed the chickens are fed (for our health)... in terms of eating their eggs not their meat. If I can find out I'll let you know.

My Heart's Not In It

I don't know what to say. I guess I'm hitting a blogging wall. I find this happens when I'm actually having a LOT of things roaming around the old brain... oddly enough. It's much easier to blog when stuff isn't going on for me internally. Harder when it is.

I finished my book yesterday.

And cried.

And cried.

And cried.

Baby brought me tissues and said "All done cryin'?"

Kid rubbed my back and sang me lullabies.

I still cried.

It tugged at a tap root to my grief that has never been resolved and rarely validated outside of therapy.

You can only pull out a little bit... it goes down forever and won't release it's grip.

Mr F might be the only one who knows how sad I am inside.

And even he sometimes forgets.




This weekend I told Mr F that he never tells me I'm pretty.

I know he loves me. I know he thinks I'm smart and funny and a great mother.

But I have spent 10 years believing that he doesn't think I'm beautiful.

So I cried.

I reminded him that in 10 years he's rarely complimented my looks.

And every woman wants to feel she is beautiful.

To her husband.

Not just the creepy guy at the grocery store, the volunteers at Habitat, and the man with the dog at the video store.

Your actual husband.

I asked him why he would withhold making someone feel good?

But I realize I do it too.

The withholding.

It's protection.

No One Does Deadpan Better

"Do you love me?" I ask Mr F while he works at his computer.

"Yep." He replies.

"With what level of intensity?" I fish leaning over his shoulder.

"White hot sun." He says without missing a beat or taking his eyes off his screen.