Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Why my head hurts...

Actual, honest-to-goodness conversation with my daughter just now:

Her:  It's not very nice of somebody to make fun of my pretend baby sister.

Me:  Who makes fun of your pretend baby sister?

Her:  My pretend baby brother.

Me:  Your pretend baby brother makes fun of your pretend baby sister?

Her:  Yes.  And that's not very nice.

Me:  You're right...that's not very nice at all.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Because there's always room for more crazy...

Two hours at Kid Med (pediatrician urgent care), a couple of chest x-rays and the Boy was diagnosed with pneumonia.  He was home all last week with a nasty cough that just wasn't getting better.  Yesterday afternoon he looked pale and blue around the eyes and mouth.   We're not the sort of parents who rush off to the doctor's with every little sniffle, but that sight had the Boy in his booster seat within five minutes.  

I learned a few things.  Passing four other urgent care facilities just to go to a pediatric specific facility was worth the extra miles.  I need to have more than two books actually loaded on the Kindle Fire since it's wifi only.  "Sponge Bob Square Pants" is stupid.  And nothing perks up a lousy feeling 6-year-old faster than being able to see his own x-rays!

Monday, November 21, 2011

Over communicating...again.

Me:  So a while ago there was this huge uproar over a toddler pageant mom dressing her daughter up as Julia Robert's hooker character in "Pretty Woman"

Him:  Okaaay...understandable.

Me:  Putting the whole "toddler pageants are creepy and should just go away" argument aside...now there's a picture floating around of a little girl dressed up as Audrey Hepburn's character in "Breakfast at Tiffany's"...and they're all...that's so cute, so classy!

Him:  Aaannnddd....

Me:  Holly Golightly was basically a prostitute as well.  And married.

Him:  I did not know that.

Me:  I don't know what bothers me more...the hypocrisy of the same people being outraged at one but charmed by the other or the fact that they're charmed and clueless regarding what they're being charmed by.

Him:  Um...I've never watched the movie.  You do know that, right?

Me:  But it's over there in the cabinet...

Him:  I'm not saying it doesn't exist in this house, I'm just saying I've never actually watched it.

Me:  So we're never going to be able to sing that song to each other, are we?

Him:  Please stop.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on...

In light of our recent bout of the plague there's been little time for the gathering of thoughts and coherent thinking necessary for a blog post.  Sorry.

However, the wee girlie did provide us with some hope of her not being turned completely over to the Dark Side (the Dark Side being, of course, all that is Princess and Pink and Girlie.)  And it was worth noting here.

Yesterday morning whilst zipping up her fleece before heading out the door for preschool she let out a massive belch.  And then busted up in 4-year-old giggling.

Wowie!  What are you supposed to say after you burp?


Good one!


Or...or...maybe, "Excuse me"?


But that's what Jacob always says!  

Fine.  New rule: From here on out...do not repeat anything your brother says.  And don't take your etiquette cues from your dad.  Or your mother.  Really, you're on your own on this one.  Because I still laugh uncontrollably at the poop jokes.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

All quiet...

The Boy boarded the school bus a while ago.  No one else is up.  The wee girlie is still fighting a cold...and several days of late nights/early mornings have caught up with her.  Himself has been mostly dead for the past two days.  But that didn't stop him from insisting I open my anniversary present when UPS dropped it off yesterday.  


Our anniversary is just over a month away.  I know--the man is precious.  And yes, I'm spoiled rotten.


So I'm sitting here enjoying the rare quiet on this cold, wet Autumn morning getting to know my Kindle Fire just a little better.  And so far? Love it.  Don't get me wrong...I still love books, real paper books...the way they feel, the way they smell, turning pages, flipping back through to read a part again...and I typically have 3 or 4 going at the same time. We will be buying books until the day they stop publishing them. But I fell in love the digital reader sitting and waiting all those hours at various doctor's appointments with the wee girl.  This reader is the perfect size and fit for me.  I'm looking forward to seeing what else this nifty gadget can do!

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Bragging...

My big sister just ran her first 8k this morning.  In 30 degree weather.  In 47:37 minutes.

Why, yes...she is awesome!

Friday, November 11, 2011

I am...

The granddaughter of a Sailor...


The daughter of a Sailor...





I am a Sailor...


And the wife of a Sailor.

Today we honor the ones we walked with, served with.  
It was an honor to be a member of this nation's Navy 
and to be a part of something bigger than myself. The friendships made during that time are lasting...obviously at least one more than others.  


"Eternal Vigilance is the Price of Freedom."  
For those still standing watch...I salute you.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Those crazy genes again...

Not too long ago (shush, dear sister...you're still older), 
I was a four-year-old with long flowing locks...

(somewhere near the Grand Canyon)

I was even known to wear a crown every now and then...

(Ocracoke Ferry)

Then one day we learned we were moving to Africa.    
Apparently it's Hot there and long hair just would not do.

 (Rockin' our jumpsuits and taking in the sights of London...Parliament, Big Ben)

Of course, it was my sister's idea and, since she was The Coolest Person I knew, 
I had to follow along.  

 Years later...I too have a daughter with long flowing locks of hair...


Two ponytails...rarely will she let me get away with just one.


She was quiet and occupied this afternoon.  I thought she was coloring.  
Imagine my surprise when I walked into the kitchen and discovered a trail of hair...


She did attempt to pin the blame on her brother.  Except he had an airtight alibi.  
We were in the other room killing zombies.


My first thought was to simply trim it up a little.  Then I got a better look at the damage.  Loaded everyone up in the Jeep and headed for Super Cuts.  Because Daddy's working tonight.  Of course.  

It's obvious a hacked hair cut isn't about to diminish the Cute or the Adorable.  There were no tears...we made the entire trip into an adventure.  Besides...I kinda like it.  Short hair will certainly be simpler to deal with on this wild and crazy twirly girly! 

Monday, November 7, 2011

On Honesty...on Perfection...and accepting help...

Everyone is watching.  Don't forget to be perfect.

That's a lot for a 4-year-old.  And then even more as she's growing up.

Sit still.  Stop fidgeting.  Don't fight with your sister.  Everyone can see you.

Preacher's daughter.  Born and raised.  Missionary daughter since the age of 4.

We expect more from you.  Better.

Church school disciplinarians were always disenchanted to discover I was really a normal kid after all.

Boarding school with all of it's rules.  If only I'd remembered to be perfect.

Years of freedom helped me discover the me buried deep inside the resentment and the anger.

I forgot again in my attempt to be the perfect wife, perfect mother.  And it almost all fell apart.  The fact that it didn't is a testimony to True Love and tenacity.  

Last September I made, and kept, the commitment to run a 5k.  Then signed up for a 10k and dropped out due to a back injury.  In May I signed up for a half marathon and started my training.  Training for the half marathon was grueling.  Especially in the summer.  With two kiddos and a husband whose work schedule refused to conform to my own needs.  I was at the Y two afternoons a week running 5-7 miles on the treadmills then dragging myself out of bed at 5:30 on Saturday mornings to be able to run an hour, two hours before the heat and humidity became unbearable.  By mid-August it all became too much.  My body literally gave out on me.  Ovarian fibroids developed into a cyst and ruptured.  A persistent pain in my side and an odd numbness in my neck and along the side of my face.
I ran the half marathon doped up on naproxen and Tylenol.  And puked my guts out at the end. 

Two separate issues.

When I started consistently losing sleep due to being in pain, I sought professional help.  The doctor really thought the pain in my side was my gallbladder.  Abdominal study ultrasound showed normal organs all the way around.  A HIDA scan showed that not only was my gallbladder functioning, it was functioning at a level he'd never seen before.  So while there was nothing amiss with the gallbladder or any of the major organs, no one denying that there was, in fact, Something Going On.  He called me back in for a follow up.  More questions.  More probing.  More listening.  Tentative diagnosis...severe Irritable Bowel Syndrome.  And, yes, my loving husband has already run the "grumpy pants" joke into the ground!

It wasn't until the next morning that I was able to really dig and find out more about IBS and the medicine I'd been prescribed.  While there is a correlation between IBS and anxiety, it's not always related.  However, the medicine that is supposed to ease the muscle spasms and keep the intestines from seizing up is also combined with an anti-anxiety medication.  Just in case.

I've never denied the existence of stress in our lives.  Given the life we've chosen, how could I?  And not a week goes by when some new stress rears its nasty little head.  A husband with one of the most stressful jobs known to man as well as a chronic, possibly crippling disease, a daughter with the same chronic disease who, along with her brother is also in the High Spirited Child category. An old house that decides to be cranky every now and then.  And then running my own cake business on the side.  However, I would never think or admit that it's to the point where I/we need to talk to someone about it or that I would need help from an medicinal source.  It's not a matter of denial--more a matter of, at what point have I had two seconds to put the thought together that maybe, just maybe everything landing on my small shoulders might be too much?  Even during the years when I really should have talked to someone I didn't...because I was supposed to be Perfect.  Those were the years I attempted self medication.  With alcohol.  Not recommended.  But this amazing man who loves and supports me unconditionally walked beside me then and he's walking beside me now. 

Friday night was the best night's sleep I've had since the beginning of August.  While my neck and side are still stiff and tender, there is no longer the mind numbing-I'm-about-to-throw-up-then-pass-out pain I've been experiencing.  Saturday was an extremely productive day.  And Sunday I was drawing up plans for taking over the sunroom for my own sewing/craft/mommy space (I was shoved out of the office when the Boy took over my desk top).  I strung together entire, complete sentences.  Because I was no longer in pain.  And because I actually slept.  I have a feeling the entire family just might benefit from Mommy being on a mild Happy Pill.

I dropped the Girl off at preschool this morning.  Came home and set out for a two mile run.  It was going to be my first run in three weeks.  I almost cut it short thinking there was no way I was going to make the whole two mile loop.  But I didn't.  And I made the entire two miles.  Without my insides threatening to strangle me from the inside.  Logging the run on my training program I realized I tipped over the 100 mile mark for the year.  

My next 100 miles will be healthy and smart ones.  While I may not be the Perfect Parent--and I'm okay with that--I am the Healthy Parent in this family.