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    Tuesday, October 30, 2007

    The Hardest "NO" Of All...

    I know it's going to be, and it's part of why we're still nursing.

    I am a "no" PRO. Don't you question it. Ask around. I have no problem denying my kids anything that is not in their best interests, anything that may pose a danger for them, anything that I know will do them more harm than good. I can "no" with the best of them. And mean it.

    But how do I begin to explain to a one-year old that the thing he loves most, the thing that has been partially responsible for his lack of sickness in his first year of life, the thing that comforts and calms him when nothing else will, the thing that he still consistently ASKS for several times a day, is soon going by the wayside? It's easy to tell him no to overabundances of candy, eating off the floor, playing in the toilet, hitting his sister, playing in traffic, pennies in outlets, sitting on the dog, and a million other things that I know aren't best for him. But this...I am at a loss.

    "No more mom drinks, Jackson, Mommy is tired of you sticking your hands down my shirt in the grocery store."

    "No more mom drinks, Jackson, everyone thinks it's weird now."

    "No more mom drinks, Jackson, I always said if a kid was big enough to ask for it, he's too big to have it. And didn't I just know everything back then?"

    "No more mom drinks, Jackson - I'm just DYING to get my period and gain a quick ten pounds."

    See what I mean? I am lacking a convincing argument. I want to quit because I want him to sleep thru the night for ME, and I've tried every other thing there is, and he still wakes up at night asking for, you guessed it, a drink at the bar. But that's not exactly about him, now, is it? And nursing is for him in the first place...

    I think Samantha must not have been as attached to the boob as her brother is, because I don't remember quitting being traumatic for either of us. But this boy is a boobie baby. I only offer at bedtime and in the AM, but he asks for it all day long. Any time he sits on my lap, if I'm in front of him at boob-level in the grocery store (as he sits in the cart), when I'm carrying him...he pulls at my collar, and says "Eh! Eh! Eh! Bbbb...bbbbb..." And it's not a thirst issue, because I've tried offering a sippy (which he drinks fine any other time) in place of the boob, and he looks at me like I'm completely stupid and throws the cup with one hand, while he sticks the other down my shirt again.

    Oy. I'm not sure when it's happening. I am tired of him not sleeping at night, and I wonder if the boob disappearing altogether wouldn't help with that. Because even though I don't give it, he still asks/whines/begs for it. Every time. Then again, that makes me wonder how long he'll keep asking for it. This child is persistent.

    But believe this (and I feel a short rant coming on) - if you're one of those people who thinks it's weird that I'm bfing my 14 month old, know that when we quit, it's NOT because of you. Notice that reason was listed as a "NOT" convincing argument. You people make me want to follow in my big sister's footsteps and BF him until he's three, just to piss you off. I'm pretty sure not one person who knows me can say I ever gave them ANY grief about how long, or how SHORT of a time they nursed their kids, so everyone could do the same for me...ok, rant over, thanks!

    So I'm sure when it happens you'll all know, because you'll hear the boy wailing from near and far, and I'll be trying to think of a good reason WHY he can't have what he loves most anymore. Can't hardly wait.

    Sunday, October 28, 2007

    I'm In Here

    To my husband Greg...

    I'm in here, I promise. I know the sweet, skinny, charismatic, fun-loving, sassy-yet-classy girl you married has been replaced with this oft-grumpy, almost-never-flirty, frumpy, middle-aged, pudgy "wife", and you probably spend most days thinking you got the world's biggest bait-and-switch. It's a wonder you come home every night.

    But I promise, I'm in here. I still love you in all the ways I loved you when we were dating, and now love you in all new ways, as well. Your eyes still make me feel weak in the knees, but one of those knees generally has a baby hanging on it when I would have previously thought to mention it to you. My arms still want to hold you all night long, but there is almost always at least one little person between us in the bed. My quiet moments of the day that used to afford me the time to think about you, and us, and all the things I love about who we are together are now filled with worry about how we'll do better for our kids than we had, how we'll get the house flipped and sold, how I'll get those boxes in the laundry room sorted out, whether or not I've done any laundry today (almost always, NO), did I write down Jackson's first tooth in his baby book, will Samantha ever say her "r"s right, and how long is it REALLY OK to breastfeed a toddler?

    I know you understand, and I know you are in "parent mode" all the time, too, which is why you bust your ass every day at a job you don't hate but don't love, and work overtime even though you're tired, and always try to do what I want in making decisions about our life. But I sometimes wonder if you lay in bed at night, missing the girl who stood before you and God and promised that there would be no road too long.

    There still isn't, you know. There is no road too long. I would lay down my life for you, for these kids, and would give every last breath in my body to defend you, to protect you, and to show you how much I love you, and how much you mean to me.

    And I'm still the same girl here as I was back there at the beginning. Our priorities have changed, and the package is certainly different, but the girl you fell in love with is still in here. I am trying to get out, to get back to you, to us, in the way that we used to be. I am trying, and I know you can see small glimpses of me now and then. Once in a while, the mom hat comes off and I get to just relax, joke with you, talk without preschooler-know-it-all-intervention; and I even sometimes feel like that girl who carried lilies and roses and baby's breath to the altar where she stood and made promises that she meant with every fiber of her being.

    So please don't give up on me. Know that I still see you with the same eyes as I did before the kids, before the move, before the debt. Please keep fighting for more time and space for our marriage to keep growing. Please don't stop waiting for me to come out and play. Please don't stop encouraging me to be just "Cathy" once in a while, because I deserve some time for me, and you deserve some time FROM me FOR you.

    You're the best man I know. It was true the first time I said it to you a million years ago, and it's true today. You are my sweet baboo, my baby, my babies' daddy, the love of my life and my best friend. I know our marriage is solid, and our future is together, but I wanted to tell you that, even if it doesn't feel like it some days, I still adore you.

    Baby Shampoo, New Kitchen Toy and Why Aren't You Voting?

    So maybe I just hadn't posted since I put up the poll, and that's why there aren't more votes, but THANKS to my two IRL friends who have voted so far, and the rest of you - get on it! I can't see anything about your votes, so your vote is anonymous, I promise. So vote irready!

    Let's shampoo--I dig it more all the time. I was cleaning (time crunch-style) a couple of weeks ago, and while in the shower, reached for the first soap I could find, along with a scrub brush, and I'll be damned if the baby shampoo I used didn't take the ring-around-the-tub RIGHT off. Then, I read recently that it could be used to get a grease spot out of a shirt without harming the shirt b/c it's so gentle, but has some compound in it designed to remove grease/oil (think baby's head that only gets washed twice a week). I thought I might need that piece of info some day, so I filed it in the front folder of my brain. This weekend, however, we found a new and exciting reason to sing the praises of this liquid gold.

    Let me back up. The aforementioned new kitchen toy is a garbage disposal. I know, how behind-the-times is our kitchen? VERY. We're working on it, trust me. In steps, though, and if you'll recall we recently put in a dishwasher...but hadn't yet put in the garbage disposal.

    Saturday morning as I went to clear the sink and load the dishwasher, I became aware of the standing water in both sinks. Drain clogged. Jim-dandy-dee. I made the mistake of mentioning that if we were unable to clear the clog, we'd have to call a plumber...if you know Greg, you know that was enough to make his blood boil, actually saying he was "insulted" that I had even suggested such a thing.

    In the midst of his quiet rant, he was plunging the "snake" down the kitchen sink drain, using his hands to emphasize his points. Suddenly the water gave and began to drain. Greg's initial "Ah ha! There, I told you it'd be..." turned into... "Uh-oh..." as we heard the sound of water hitting the floor...or floorS, more accurately. His forcefulness had broken the drain trap under the sink loose from it's collar and the water gave way because the pipe was now in two pieces under my sink. SOAKING every single item in the cabinet, RUNNING out onto my floor. That was floor #1.

    The worst part is that we STILL had a clog, apparently down in the pipe between the main floor and the basement. So Greg went down to further explore and find out where the clog was.

    He eventually found the clog, and had opened the coupler of that drain downstairs to do so. When it broke loose, the nastiest of the nasty came flowing out of the coupler hole...and out onto my laundry room floor. Like a river of sludge. Gag. Much profanity then flowed from said laundry room. I stayed upstairs for the time being.

    When I say nasty, I should clarify...if you have ever watched a plumber clear drain lines, or if you are folks like us who do our own plumbing, then you know what I'm talking about. If not...picture dirty motor oil mixed with water, dirt, and goo. But mostly it's like dirty motor oil - the stuff that builds up in your pipes is mostly oil-based stuff that doesn't get flushed through. The residue it creates is a BIG NASTY. This drain was direct from our kitchen sink, so all the stuff you pour down your kitchen sink, and rinse off your dishes, all that...on my laundry room floor. (Floor #2, obviously). Thank the LORD that the drain goes down into there (and that there's a floor drain), and not my office or our bedroom, or Greg may have shot himself on the spot.

    That was bad enough, but then he comes upstairs looking like someone just shot the dog. He informs me that, in his panic to find something or other as part of the repair process, he tracked the big nasty goo THROUGH my office to the garage, and back. Four or five softball-sized (or bigger) spots of pure coal black, on my light brown carpet. He just kept saying, "It's bad, Cathy, it's bad." I went down. It was bad.

    He was asking for Resolve. I said "Honey, I don't think Resolve is that good." He then got the LA's Awesome Cleaner that I use for laundry stains. It just smeared it around. And he was using an old toothbrush, and that was not doing much.

    Suddenly the article about the baby shampoo and the grease spot jumped out of the front folder of my brain, and I thought it certainly couldn't hurt to try. At least I knew the baby shampoo wouldn't hurt the carpet, and if it didn't come out the carpet was ruined anyway.

    I applied it VERY liberally to one spot at first, and then scrubbed it in with a scrub brush, and let it sit for just a minute or so. Then I poured water on it, scrubbed it again, and then sucked it up with the shop vac. Lather, rinse, repeat.


    And by nothing, I mean there was NOTHING left of the stain. Nada. Zip. What in the hell?...

    In disbelief, I quickly began working on the other areas, and could NOT believe that it took every spot of that black nasty grease off my carpet. And this wasn't even the Johnson's baby shampoo - this was cheap, store-brand baby shampoo!

    Greg and I were SO relieved that it came out. I'm looking at it right now, a day and a half later, and I swear to you I cannot tell where the stains were. So I am giving my FIVE-STAR recommendation to baby shampoo. It hasn't failed me yet! Try it out!

    And the garbage disposal (which Greg hopes will help with the drain problem) was installed by noon today. Let's hope the nasty stuff stays where it belongs from now on!

    Friday, October 26, 2007


    Thanks, Catie, for asking! Let me see if I have any (besides being a web-junkie, obviously)...

    There's writing, which I obviously love, and which technically is NOT a hobby since I have been paid for it more than once, even under contract for a year (Club Mom) - that makes me, as my friend Peg would say, an "equity writer". But I guess since no one's paying me these days, it's back to being a hobby. So writing, for one, is a hobby. I wish it was a profession, and if anyone has any great contacts to make that happen, as always, you let me know!

    Coloring. Yep, like with Crayolas and color books, and signing my initials and the date at the bottom. One of my all-time favorite things to do. And now I get to do it with my kids. Seriously one of life's best stress-busters, I recommend it 100%. Lose yourself in a big, fat, giant activity book. They're a buck at Wal-mart, getcha one! I buy myself a shiny, new box of Crayolas every year or so, and the old ones go to Samantha to destroy/break/peel, but the new ones are mine! And yes, I only buy Crayola. Off-brands of crayons SUCK.

    Crafts. Although not in recent years, I used to be quite crafty. In high school, I made windmill wall hangings. They're hard to describe, but they're beautiful wall-hangings that depict old-style windmills in nature. My aunt taught me to make them. I used to do craft shows with them. In later years I made satin-lined decorated baskets, even made all the baskets and decorations for Greg's and my wedding. I'd love to get back into doing that.

    Baking. I love baking, but I'm not a genius at it. Overdone and underdone cookies are plentiful in my house, but the ones that turn out good are REALLY good. And cakes and brownies and the occasional bread. Not that I am doing much of that these days since returning to the Beach.

    Decorating -as in cookies and cakes. I do my kids' birthday cakes, and holiday cookies, and get pretty good reviews, but I am no trained professional. I'd sure like to be, though. Other than writing and being a brilliant psychologist, I'd love to be a baker - a female Duff, if you would. How fun must THAT job be?

    Watching OLD movies. I'm not much for the new ones (with some exceptions), in general, but I've seen Anne of Green Gables (and all the sequels) more times than I can count. Pollyanna. Legends of the Fall. Interview With The Vampire. Gone With The Wind. Muppets Take Manhattan. Back to the Future. Karate Kid. These I can and do watch over and over. There are more than I can even list, any of which I would watch over ANYTHING on the "New Release" list at the video store. Putting in an old movie is peaceful, comfortable, pleasant and low-stress--you know how it's going to end. I'm too old for that surprise-ending shit. Seriously, rent "Anne of Green Gables". I dare you to not love it.

    Reading. This is more of a former hobby, since I have books I haven't read piling up faster than my laundry, but it has been probably the most consistently-loved pass-time in my life, since childhood. I can remember spending hour after hour on weekends and in summer in my room, reading book after book, lost in pages and words where I became part of worlds I could never go to in my real life. Stephen King is my favorite writer, I discovered him as a sophomore, and have read his work so much more than anyone else's since then. As a child, books like "The Great Gilly Hopkins" and "Bridge to Terribithia" were my favorites. And even silly teen romances like "Tiger Eyes", I read my share of those.

    Landscaping. I LOVE planting flowers, forming new fun-shaped beds, and seeing things grow. My dogs' goal in life is to destroy everything I create, so that keeps me in the business of re-inventing the beds in my back yard...over and over. I obviously don't spend enough time on this hobby, however, because the bed under my picture window out front has been half-done and awful-looking for a couple of MONTHS now, and still, there it sits. Wonder if I'll get to that before the snow flies? Hmmm...

    That's a good start to my list of hobbies. I need to get better at all of them, but my favorite "hobby" is raising my kids, and it takes up much of my time, as you know. That, and this BLOG, which I love doing more all the time. And it's all for you, loveys! So leave a comment and keep reading! Thanks!

    Wednesday, October 24, 2007

    My Favorite Kid

    Deb, this is for you, girl. Her question was "Do you have a favorite kid?"

    Do I have a favorite kid? It's an age-old question, asked (mostly to oneself) for decades by parents everywhere. Having never been the favorite kid in my family (until now, ha ha), I always swore I would love each of my children equally, never show favoritism, and banish the word "favorite" from my parental vocabulary. And so far, so good, in general. But there are days...

    Last week one day (not sure which, maybe Thursday), Jackson was DEFINITELY my favorite kid. His sister was doing her level best to drive me to drink by lunch time. Lucky for her I'm not a drinker. While he played contentedly with his toys, never straying from the safety of his room, she was venturing into the bathroom (under the guise of needing "privacy") to create toilet paper mountains and write on the floor with toothpaste. He was happy to eat his snack in his highchair as requested, while she felt the need to smear banana all over the wall, and her feet, and the dog's head. And at bedtime, he sweetly drifted to sleep in my arms, while in the next room she screamed bloody murder for her father, baying woefully about not needing to go to sleep and saying very naughty things about her feelings towards her father and me. I went to bed that night CERTAIN that Jackson was my favorite.

    The next day served to change my mind. And by "day", I mean starting with each hour from 3AM on, when Jackson woke up. Over and over. And whining mercilessly for the boob each time, which he knows he doesn't get until morning. Breakfast - she sat cheerfully and ate her cereal and fruit, even throwing out a "You're the best mom EVER, Mom...". He, meanwhile, was throwing everything on his tray with great gusto. Taking the sippy and food away instead of returning them to the tray brought screams of protest from the formerly-favorite-titleholder. Samantha then wanted to draw, and spent a great amount of time making me a picture of a mommy spider and all her spider babies, singing sweetly as she drew ... while Jackson whined at my leg, even after being held for 15 minutes, dumped the dog water all over the kitchen floor, and stole crayons off the table to have for a snack. THOSE he'll eat instead of throwing. And no nap for Jackson this day, just screaming in his bed after 1/2 hour of rocking. Meanwhile Samantha was more than willing to lay down for rest time and stay there through the whole movie, never moving except to say "Mommy, I need to go potty", which she then promptly did and then returned to her designated spot. Such a perfect girl, this child. Surely she is my favorite.

    And the next day, they trade again, proving to me that they are having meetings behind my back to decide who is graying Mommy's hair on any given day. I'm sure of it. And when I catch them, I'm going to put a stop to it. I think gender segregation is a great idea in this house, because they are in cahoots, I have decided, and I think they intend to keep it up for a great while.

    So honestly, they are both my favorites. He's my favorite son, and she's my favorite daughter. There are so many things I adore about each of them. They each give me joy in completely different, but equally significant ways. When I was pregnant with Samantha, I worried (even worrying in writing) a lot about whether or not I could love Jackson as much as I loved Samantha. I thought my heart was so full of adoration for this "perfect" baby girl that I would never find enough love in my heart to love another as much. But as much as I have a beautiful strong mother-daughter bond with my girl, this sweet boy has stolen my heart and touched me in a way I never could have foreseen. As I have written before, love is a funny thing — when you divide it, it doesn't become less, it grows.

    I wonder, had I bore two girls, or two boys, if I wouldn't have found myself comparing them more, or secretly liking one more than the other. It's certainly a common enough phenomenon amongst same-sex siblings (ask my husband, the "less-favored" son). A part of me was secretly SO relieved to have one of each, because it meant I would still get to call Samantha my "best girl", and would now be able to have a "best boy" as well.

    As usual, things work out how they are supposed to. I love having a boy and a girl, and it affords me the opportunity to call them each "my favorite" and mean it.

    Great question, Deb. Thanks! Who else has one for me?

    Tuesday, October 23, 2007

    Google-riffic, OR...You're Being Googled

    I'm checking you out. That's right, you. If I know you, I'm probably "Googling" you. It's a sickness, kind of, and I do it a couple of times a year. So if there's stuff out there you don't want me to know about, better work on getting that scrubbed out of cyberspace before I get to you.

    I've already seen some cool stuff, lots of wedding announcements, and assorted work-related links for many of you. It is nice to see your faces and/or info about you, and your families.

    Feel free to Google me. There's not much to see, but have at it! It's a great way to kill an hour...or two...


    Watched this tonight. First of all, LONG freaking movie. But not creepy like I expected, very much more from the people-who-were-trying-to-catch-him point of view rather than the killer's. Not a bad flick, overall. Did you know they never actually "caught" him, and he never served one day for any of the killings, and in fact based on evidence, they can't even prove he did it? The guy they suspect, well, he died of a heart attack before they could question him. How nice for him.

    So now I'm on here instead of going to bed because I have to get something else in the front of my head before I go to sleep...and of course, Greg fell asleep, like clockwork, approximately 9 minutes in, leaving me to watch a movie about a freak who kills random people for kicks. Thanks, baby.

    And so what am I doing to get it out of my head? Writing about it. Oy.

    I need to go to bed, it's late, and Jackson's already been up once. Maybe he'll sleep til morning now...yeeeeah, right...

    Tomorrow I'll tackle Deb's question: Do you have a favorite kid? Hmmm, do I? Check back and find out!

    Monday, October 22, 2007

    Question #1:, 2, 3:

    "I'd like to see you tackle how we can survive planning three meals a day forever. Plus we have to consider budget, picky eaters, AND it has to be healthy?!!!!"

    Thanks to Peg for the question...I'd like to see me tackle it, too!

    It gets SOO monotonous when you're home 24/7/365, and for some strange reason, these people, big and small, want to eat EVERY SINGLE DAY. What is THAT about? What, we have to eat on a REGULAR basis? And I'm supposed to pull that out of what hat? Ok, ok, I know, it's my job, and in all seriousness, I really don't mind. Planning ahead is my biggest help. But how do we survive it forever? Well, I guess it beats the alternative, right?

    Budget deserves a whole separate post, so I'll save that for another time.

    "Healthy". Such a relative term. I try to make sure fruits and/or veggies, and usually dairy are a part of every meal we eat. The kids can have real juice, once a day. The rest of the day is milk or water. We have switched to pretty much whole-grain everything, and the kids don't know the difference. Our diet is FAR from perfect, but the biggest key for me is to make sure that most of what we eat is not from a vaccu-sealed bag, or a pre-packaged-already-cooked freezer box. We did that for enough years and we're paying for it now, both physically and financially. I want better for my kids than that. It does exist in our kitchen, and I certainly won't claim the kids eat a 100% balanced diet every day, but the junk and processed and preserved-within-an-inch-of-its-life foods are occasional things now, not staples. Fresh food feeds our body better than anything else. And I want my kids to know that food is for energy, to nourish our bodies; it's not something we eat to bring joy, to ease pain or for any other reason.

    "Picky eaters" - that's easy in our house. They're not allowed. Probably stems from my upbringing, the famous old-school "you'll eat what's on your plate or you'll get nothing else til you do" routine, which was standard in our house. Mom and Dad couldn't afford anything other than plain old meats, potatoes, and veggies, and the occasional noodle of sorts, so basically you were eating veggies and other 'oft-unpopular with kids' foods, or you were starving, period. And that's if Dad didn't just whoop your butt for disobeying and not eating what you were told when you were told. But you know what? It's served me much better in my life than if I had been allowed to be picky. I can eat just about anything that's put in front of me and I know how to politely decline things I don't eat. We were taught that it's considered RUDE to make awful faces, turn our noses up at things we hadn't even tried, or to turn away "perfectly good food" for no good reason. And frankly, it is.

    Now, that being said, we are not quite as hard-ass about food as my parents were, but we do NOT facilitate picky-ness with our kids. If it gets put on your plate, you eat some of it. Not four cups of it, but you are going to try it. And even if you didn't like it last time, you're trying it this time. Kids don't learn to like vegetables by never being made to eat them. They learn to like them by eating them. They can dip them in ranch or ketchup or whatever, but trying new foods (and sometimes eating them whether you like them or not) is an important part of learning to live in the world. Greg and I try to lead by example - he dislikes carrots, but he tries them every time I make them, and I put on my game face and choke down a bite of his gyro every time he eats one and insists its the perfect food.

    This philosophy is generally met with little resistance, because they DON'T have to eat tons of it, just a little bit, so they can learn about flavors and textures. And they learn that even though they maybe didn't like it last time, they might like it now. Samantha obviously is more the focus of this stuff right now, because Jackson doesn't understand all of what we say, but even he is a good eater of most foods - on some things, better than his sister.

    Another big factor for us is that they see what WE eat, and when WE eat good foods, they usually want to at least try it. After all, Mom's food always tastes better than our own, right? Some folks make completely different (and generally unhealthy) meals for their kids when they are eating a good healthy dinner just because it's "easier", and I feel like that, for us, would be an opportunity lost for the kids. We have stir-fry, they eat stir-fry. It's good for them. That, and I'm not running a short-order restaurant around here. We're having "x", and if you don't want that, then (as Mom used to say) "you're just not hungry". They get to choose plenty of things in their day, and if there is a choice they can make, such as banana or grapes for a snack, I am happy to let them choose. But I'm the person who is supposed to help them learn what good choices are, so when they grow up they have the tools to be healthy and make good choices on their own.

    NOW. All that sounds so great and is totally my goal and focus daily in feeding my family. But please don't think there aren't days the kids get frozen pizza and chocolate milk for lunch, after having had Count Chocula for breakfast. No claims of perfection here. Just doing the best we can every day. What else is there to do, really?

    Monday, Monday...

    Great, now I'll have the Mamas and the Papas stuck in my head all day...

    Anywho, Jackson started out his Monday by running his cute litle forehead into the door trim of our bedroom door. He just lost his balance and went flailing forward, and then FWACK. Right on his forehead, and the screaming began. It immediately, and I do mean IMMEDIATELY, turned eggplant purple and swelled up like a goose egg, close to an inch high off his melon. I almost fainted it was so awful-looking. And I'm sure him screaming and making all the blood rush to his head just made it worse, so needless to say we were all worked up.

    I called the ped's office to find out what to watch for since it was SUCH a big bruise, and so fast-forming. They said as long as he seems fine (playing, walking, etc.), is eating ok and not vomiting, he's fine. Which he does and is, now, and the swelling has gone down about half from this morning, but the poor kid seriously looked like he was growing a horn. I'll post a picture when I can, but trust me when I say we are postponing our previously-scheduled-for-Sunday family pictures for a week...or two...

    Sunday, October 21, 2007

    No BLOG Tonight, Folks...

    Momma is toooo tired. I was up oh-so-late last night being productive, and then Jackson decided to get up way too early, so I am running on empty, and I need to spend a little bit of time with Greg before I pass out. But I will write tomorrow, so check back and read soon. G'night all!

    Questions From You

    Yes, I have gotten several now, and THANKS to those who asked! Later today, with any luck, I'll be blogging in reference to those very questions! And after you see how brilliantly I answer said questions, you'll be clamouring to think of new ones to send me!

    Just take my word for it - you needn't wait, just go ahead and send me a thought-provoking question or topic, and watch it materialize into its very own article here at FMFO.

    Maybe I should have a prize for the best question...but if I do come up with a prize, you can't win if you don't enter, folks. SO let me know!


    My friend Catie offered to take my scale away from me to keep me from weighing in every day, and I make take you up on it, girl. This scale can't weigh accurately to save its life, and so its life is most likely OVER. Stupid thing. 176...178...179....178....177...all within 30 seconds? Nice. The intention of weighing more than once is obviously to check that the scale IS accurate (with such a great first weigh-in, obviously), but then the more different readings one gets, the more intrigued one becomes.

    So stay tuned to find out what I "really" weigh...this scale really has me guessing now. Hell, who knows...maybe I'm not even fat!

    OK, yeah, prolly not. But I'm still getting a new scale.

    Friday, October 19, 2007


    This is my 60th post here at For Me For Once, aka Cathy's Blog. Very cool, huh? Thank you for sharing this milestone with me...

    I am still waiting for questions, queries, things you wanna know...otherwise I may have to start talking about the bathroom habits of my children, my dogs, and maybe even my husband, and no one wants that, do they?

    Don't make me look like an ass...or make me start making up questions and pretending that someone else is asking them. I spend enough time talking to myself, folks, so humor me here, wouldja? Thanks!

    The Morning Buzz

    The scale has been spared...for now. Back to 179, so I guess I'll keep Mr. Scale around for one more day. But he'd better start giving the right answers more often or it's gonna be execution at dawn. Bank on it.

    I am eating my yummo SB friendly pancakes (Greg likes them better than regular) and fried egg with cheese, and a great cup of coffee with cream and Splenda.

    Oh, and the pinched nerve has departed. All in all, not a bad Friday morning!

    I promised thoughts on the holidays, didn't I? Someone had a Christmas survey yesterday that I filled out, and it got me thinking about the holidays. Oh, BTW, in general, we say "Christmas" around here. I'm so terribly sorry if that offends, but that's what we celebrate in our house. It's not meant to offend, it's not anything other than just what the holidays represent to us. Please feel free to insert whatever holiday you celebrate as you read.

    Mom is calling (my SB partner), so let me go gab with her and I'll write on Christmas later...stop back soon!

    Thursday, October 18, 2007

    Late Night Ramblings

    This pinched nerve is a real buggar. I spent an hour in a hot bath tonight, which did make it possible for me to stand up straight, so that was a nice bonus, but the nerve is still pinched and thus still hurts.

    It has rendered my house helpless and at the mercy of the kids, the man and the dogs. Dog hair ad infinitum, dirty dishes and toys are quickly finding new places to hang out as I am resting my back. I walk thru the house between one room and the next and silently point out all the crap that's out of place, but I choose not to torture myself by bending over to pick it all up. Even the dishwasher requires more bending then I'm up for tonight, so the dirty dishes are sitting in a nice dirty pile waiting for me. Somehow I doubt the housework fairy is going to do them for me. That bitch never does a damn thing around here.

    With any luck this nerve will get out of the spot it's in by morning and I'll be able to get the house back in order before it gets too far gone. The ILs are coming to town this weekend, so I need to have it clean by then anyway. Oy, that's tomorrow, isn't it? Crappity smack.

    We're supposed to be going to the local "pumpkin patch" with the ILs this weekend. I know they want to go b/c they want Samantha to have fun, I know they have the best of intentions. But I sure hope they are planning to pay the ELEVEN DOLLARS A PERSON it will cost us to get in, and that doesn't even get you a goddamned PUMPKIN! You still have to BUY pumpkins on top of that! I have pumpkins growing in my back yard for FREE! Oh, and they have food, and rides, and games, and cha-ching ~ cha-ching ~ cha-ching! I need a loan just to go out there! All so I can stand on a muddy wet farm (it's been raining for DAYS), watch my kid pick out a muddy pumpkin that we then have to drag back to the van, after we PAY an arm and leg for it, and bring it home...where we ALREADY HAVE PUMPKINS. My eyes don't roll back far enough in my head to show how I feel about the whole stupid ordeal. Makes me tired just thinking about it.

    And for those following my weight-loss saga, if the scale does NOT give me what I want to see in the morning, I am going to give it a frontal lobotomy with my tenderizer hammer, or whatever blunt instrument I can find close by. This shit is ridiculous. Seriously.

    Do I use "seriously" too much? I think I do. Seriously. Gosh, what word could I replace it with, though? Totally? Majorly? Really really? Nope. Seriously is the best one. Seriously.

    Oh, and I have another great BLOG you need to check out - my girl Catie at She's one of the coolest smart chicks I know (seriously, she's an engineer!), and she makes super-cool cloth diapers and other awesome things, all with her talented two hands. And her boys are adorable! So give her a read!

    Gotta go to bed. The boy will be up soon, I'm sure of it. I seriously (seriously) doubt he'll EVER sleep through the night. So to all of you who rolled your eyes at my "perfect" first born who slept through the night at three weeks and cursed me with "You know you won't get TWO like that!", congratulations. He sleeps for shit. Always has. Happy now? Great. If I remember who all told me that, I may start calling you when he wakes up. Not so funny now, is it? (Put a curse on me, will ya...)

    Coming tomorrow . . . my thoughts on the upcoming holiday season. I may dig out my Christmas stuff! It's almost certain I'm going to put in the Muppet Christmas's ALMOST November...close enough...

    Food Review: SB Meal

    Garlic Something-Something-Beef. Not great. I don't eat many pre-packaged meals, but I do keep a couple in the freezer for days like this when I'm not feeling like cooking. This one is SB brand. As with their other meals I've tried so far, it's not one I'll buy again.

    Cauliflower, peppers, steak, chives, and more seasoning than any one meal needs. The beef is tender, and that's fine, but the seasonings are blasted with too much, uh, too much...hell, I'm not sure WHAT it's too much of, but it's not great. OH, and the meal is about 90% cauliflower. Which I don't so much mind because I like cauliflower, but if you don't, this is NOT the meal for you.

    Maybe Ranch would help, because like it is, I cannot stomach another bite. Gotta go find a salad. With Ranch, of course. Why other dressings even exist is beyond me.

    BTW, have you sent me any questions yet? I'm waiting...

    About Me...No Really...

    So a few things I've been ruminating*...

    #1: What's that old motto? "If you like our work, tell others. If you don't, tell us." Well that's our motto here at . . . OK, really just the first part. If you don't like it, hard cheese. Ok, I'm kidding, tell me. But seriously be nice and remember my fragile ego. But seriously seriously tell other people if you like it.

    #2: You, faithful reader, are who I'm writing to, so in the spirit of the second part of #1 (see how giving I am?), tell me what YOU want ME to write about! Wanna know more about my family? I may or may not divulge, but you can ask! My house? My pets? My favorite perfume? (It's Mary Kay's "Elige", by the way) What do I love about my van, my city, my haircut? All valid questions, and I'd really love to write about some of the things YOU want to know about. So shoot me an email, or better yet leave a comment and speak up. Ask and you shall receive!

    #3: About 7 minutes of Yo Gabba Gabba is long enough. The kids are happily zombified for the moment, but I couldn't hack it. The Party In My Tummy was more fun than I could handle.

    #4: You should seriously check out my very good friend Deb's BLOG: She's totally famous. I swear! She was on the Today show two weeks ago, and I stood in my kitchen giggling my ass of the whole time I watched her dangerously-close-to-perfect self be brilliant in front of MILLIONS. And her blog is action-packed, fun-filled and she's a good egg (and one of my coolest girlfriends ever). Check her out!

    *ruminating as in "reflecting upon deeply", not as in cows chewing cud...


    So after eating exactly what I'm supposed to eat, a very healthy day, doing the right thing ... I gained TWO POUNDS. Huh what? There is a cloud over South Beach, and it's getting old.

    I know, I'm sure it's all this yo-yo stuff with the whole bad plan earlier in the week, etc., etc., I'm sure my body is all out of whack. Whatever. Still pisses me off. Makes me want a Double Cheeseburger with the biggest fries they have and an incomparable fountain Dr. Pepper. Fuck that "diet" pop business. Apparently whether or not I drink/eat/breathe sugar doesn't matter, does it? Apparently I just get to be a fatass my whole life.

    OK, done whining. Yo Gabba Gabba just came on, so I'd better go watch that with the kids. It's like a train wreck - I don't wanna look, but I just can't help myself.

    OH, and I pinched a nerve in my back overnight, so I'm walking like my granny now. Nice.

    Wednesday, October 17, 2007

    A Stupid Idea...

    ...feels even stupider when you get on the scale the morning after eating nothing but bland vegetables and fruit all day and realizing that the stupid plan you thought was so great did nothing but help you GAIN THAT STUPID POUND BACK THAT YOU KEEP GAINING AND LOSING OVER AND OVER.

    But I have some kick-ass willpower, I will give me that. We ordered Pizza Hut today, had my two favorites - cheese pizza and cheesesticks. I had a big yummy salad and the cheese off of one slice of pizza. That's it. Oh, and I made apple juice for the kids...but I had ice water.

    I'm really trying to believe in the whole "getting out of it what I put in" philosophy, and hoping that if I just stick with the plan, and eat what I'm supposed to, it'll start paying off. So far, I could hope in one hand and know....OK, let me use better words...

    So far, I'm just STUCK at 179. Yes, fine - I weigh 179, that's what I weigh. Frankly I'm sick of alluding to my weight and not using numbers anyway, so now you know. It's not like it's a secret that I'm the fat sister. If you've seen me, you know I'm overweight. Knowing the number doesn't change anything, does it? And this is less than I weighed when I got pg. with JTC, and less than I weighed at my first prenatal appt. with SKC. So I'm actually at a "pre-pregnancy weight"...but I am still 40 pounds heavier than when Greg and I started dating. How depressing is THAT? But it's actually kind of liberating to share with you all. Forty pounds. Samantha plus five. That's what I've gained in 9 years. Scary. But! I am "only" 26 pounds heavier than the day Greg and I married, and I looked GREAT then. Size 8, baby. So I'd settle for losing 20 or 30, but 40 would be dandier.

    Hell, at this rate I'd settle for 5...or 2 or 3...somebody send me some "skinny vibes", wouldja? Thanks.


    Happy Birthday, babe. I miss you. You would have been 34 today. I would give anything to hug you and tell you "Happy Birthday" in person.

    I hope that where ever you are, birthdays are huge stellar events and they are throwing a hell of a party for you.

    I hope everyone lets you steal their lighter all night and never lets on that they know you have it.

    I hope they play great club music all night and you dance your butt off, and you flip your hair in that sexy way you had.

    I hope a cute boy holds your hand and dances with you and gets you drinks and tells you how wonderful you are and makes you feel special.

    I hope you look fabulous and everyone tells you so.

    I hope you can see everyone who loves you and feel how much we miss you.

    I love you.

    Uh, Yeah...About That Plan...

    ...that diet can stick it. That's right, I told a I hope it does. I hope it sticks it where the "sun don't shine".

    Look, I'm not picky. I can eat almost anything, but a plan has gotta let me EAT. 1/2 cup of veggies at a time is just not gonna do it, sorry.

    I really thought I could make it ~ it's just four days, right? What's four days, jeez, Cathy, suck it up, right? By noon I had a headache and was light-headed, and that's AFTER I ate my "lunch". I am NOT a quitter when it comes to dieting, in general, certainly not the first day, but this was some crazy shit. I cannot STAND being hungry long-term, it drives me nuts. Makes me grumpy, tired, irritable. Be assured, dear readers, that I will NEVER have an eating disorder because I haven't the patience nor the will to starve myself. Momma's gotta EAT.

    So especially after I weighed myself on the evening of my first day on this fabulous plan, and I hadn't lost so much as an ounce, and I was still hungry after my "supper" (dry hamburger patty and 1/2 cup beans), I made an executive decision and put the Kai-bosh on the whole thing. We went to the mall tonight - I had a side salad and some lean roast beef and an iced tea, and it tasted better than anything I'd eaten in a week. Nothing like a little bland-vegetable-diet-day to make you appreciate "normal" healthy food, that's for sure.

    So I'm back on the Beach, having no idea why I left in the first place. OK, so I wanted a jump start, I wanted the quick payoff. I know, I know, it doesn't work that way. I have reminded myself of that today. So learn from me, a good eating plan that actually allows you to EAT good foods (like SB) is a way better bet than some idiot's idea of how to starve yourself for four days and call it "weight loss".

    Tuesday, October 16, 2007

    The Latest and Greatest Plan

    While I love South Beach and all it does for how I feel, for some reason the weight is not coming off as quickly as it did in the past, and certainly not as quickly as I'd like given my dedication level and lack of cheating-ness. And so, in my infinite wisdom (note sarcasm) I have decided to give myself a little jumpstart.

    I have found a plan whose name shall not be disclosed, but it purports that one is able to lose several pounds in many less days. It's not gimmicks or pills or lotions - it's just a list of vegetables, fruits, and lean proteins (along with drinking tons of water/tea) that you eat in a specific order, and doing so is supposed to flush out body fat. It's mostly foods I am already eating anyway, so the change won't be that great. But no salt. That will be tough. I have researched this plan for, gosh, days now, and have found that most people out here in cyberspace who follow it have fairly good luck with it, and if they go back to eating a good diet (like South Beach) when they are done, the weight stays off--which tells me it's more than water weight...but again, see my previous SB post for how I feel about water weight. Smaller is smaller, folks.

    Anyway, one guy uses a body-fat percentage scale and said that of the 7 pounds he lost, 5.5 of it was body fat. That's a pretty damn high percentage of fat. I'd settle for that, no doubt. I have no delusions that this will solve any big weight loss problems, but it may be a good jump start for me to stay motivated. I won't even jinx it by telling you how much weight many have lost on this plan in four days, but I am anxious to see how I fare myself.

    So this is day one. That 1/2 a grapefruit and hot tea went down goooood....ok, so I haven't had anything sweet in 2 and 1/2 weeks, so anything sweet would have done it for me. Lunch is MUCH bigger and will be a nice filling meal for me. I'm looking forward to it, actually.

    I think I need this. I'm due for a good flush. Let's hope this much raw fiber doesn't send me running down the hall all week, though, althought that may not be so bad either. So send skinny thoughts my way, cross your fingers, and I'll keep you posted as the rest of this week goes by, and hopefully they'll be a lot less of me writing to you by Friday. Here's hoping!

    Saturday, October 13, 2007

    The Great Flood...And Early Bedtime

    So there are times we leave her alone in a room too long and should pay closer attention.

    Last night about 6:30, Samantha had just finished supper and as I understand it, went into the bathroom to wash her hands. At one point, she had been in there long enough and Daddy told her to shut off the water, and come out of the bathroom. I am, at that time, on the phone with my Mom, so I am kind of seeing what's going on, but not really.

    Greg remembers where he left her about five minutes later as we hear her scream that high-pitched, "non-injured but uh-oh-something's-happened scream". Greg goes into the bathroom to find her STANDING UP in the bathroom sink, eyes wide with upset, and water is POURING over the edge of the vanity like a waterfall, all three sides. Water is running out the door into the hallway. Rugs, extra rolls of toilet paper next to toilet - SOAKED. Standing water. Listening closely we hear the splattering DOWNSTAIRS. In my office. The water has run to the edge of the flooring and is now leaking down through the ceiling of my office onto the floor, computer chair, splashing on the computer, and soaking the carpet.

    Needless to say, I hung up the phone.

    She needed to wash her feet. That was her reason for this collossal aqua-mess. Had she been outside barefoot, you ask? Or stomping grapes? Or picking up hor de' voures with her toes? Painting with her cute little pigs? No. Nothing of the kind. We have no idea why she wanted to wash her feet, but she did. And that drain is a little bit slow, and if you leave it run indefinitely, it gets behind (we've been meaning to tear that wall out and fix that...), and now we know just how quickly.

    Everything seems to have dried out OK, and the floor hasn't been that clean in weeks.

    Samantha went to bed at 7:00 last night (about two hours early), after MUCH talking-to on our part (I'll spare you the details of the discipline phase of the evening), and MUCH crying and "Oh, it's all my fault"-ing on her part. She's just a little bit of a drama queen. I think she gets that from her father.

    So Daddy knows now, in hindsight, that sending her into the bathroom to wash her hands on her own is not such a great idea.

    From now on it's a washcloth at the table for washing hands.

    Friday, October 12, 2007

    Medical Morons

    So they've announced that they are pulling ALL of the infant decongestants that work worth a damn because, quite frankly, there are some stupid assholes in the world who either A) can't read labels, or B) don't understand that this stuff has actual MEDICINE in it. Stupid people overdose their poor babies (usually GROSSLY overdose them from what I've read), and then blame it on the drug.

    These drugs have done WONDERS for my babies when they have been sick and have truly needed medication. Steam baths, vaporizers, nose suckers and saline have their place, but they just aren't always enough. And when that has been the case, I have followed my board-certified pediatricians' advice and used these medications for my kids, from a VERY young age, with NO adverse effects and nothing but practically MIRACULOUS results. I shudder to think of the next time Jackson gets really sick and needs this medicine and I can't get it anymore because some jackass was too stupid to breed but did it anyway.

    I wonder if it's off the shelves yet and if I can go to every Walgreens in town and buy them out (within the "limit" of course, which was established for an entirely different set of stupid jackasses). Maybe I'll hit Walmart, too.

    No wonder I'm online all the time. People in the real world seriously piss me off. I'm even labeling this post, that's how ticked I am.

    "Tell Me Something Funny"

    ...this was my statement to Samantha this morning as I was at a loss for something funny of my own to write about.

    Her contributions:

    Samantha's Something Funny #1

    "Why does a pipe not walk?"

    "I don't know, why not?"

    "Because it's just a pipe!"

    Samantha's Something Funny #2

    "Knock-knock! Who is it?" (Yes, that's how she says it)

    "Who's there."

    "Orange Blossom." (Strawberry Shortcake's friend)

    "Orange Blossom who?"

    "Just Orange Blossom."


    Ok, so now that we have our numbers 1-10, and our ABC's figured out, I guess we'll turn our attention to joke-telling.

    Thursday, October 11, 2007

    Fish Stick Sandwiches...With KETCHUP???

    So I got my hair cut tonight. My stylist, who I love, and I always have good conversations, mostly about our kids, who are similar in age. She was discussing her child's recent growth spurt, and as an example was detailing how much the child had eaten in one sitting. She explained that one of her favorite things to do with fish sticks is make them into a sandwich. (The child had eaten THREE in one sitting, BTW...growth spurt for sure!)

    Sounds logical, stack them on some bread, maybe toasted, with mayo or tartar sauce, right? I thought I heard her wrong when she said "You know, you take fish sticks, put them on some bread, with some ketchup, and make a sandwich of them!"

    That can't be right, can it? I've given up breading here on South Beach, but is there someone willing to test out this fish stick theory for me and see if fish sticks and ketchup go together? Because I threw up in my mouth a little bit when I thought about it. But I've been wrong before. Hell, I eat tuna and sourkraut pizza like it's going out of style, whaddo I know?

    I would be SO grateful if, if the next time you partake of fish sticks, you would dip some in ketchup, or better yet, make yourself a fish stick sandwich, and get back to me on that? Thanks.

    Back on the Beach

    Did I tell you fine folks that South Beach is my diet of choice and that I started again with Fabulous Phase One on October 1st? Well, it is and I did. It is by FAR the healthiest lifestyle we have ever embraced in this house, and a great way to eat/live.

    Eleven days = 8 pounds. And that's with a water-retaining steroid shot thrown in there! Life is good on the beach. Spare me the "it's water weight" stuff, though, because as long as the scale displays lower numbers every time I get on it, it can be organ weight for all I care. Less organs mean my jeans fit better, right? Water weight, organ weight, fat weight, whatever - smaller is smaller.

    So I'm feeling good, losing weight, and staying on track. For now. The sugar addiction seems to be at bay for now, and the Strawberry Frosted Pop-Tarts in the pantry have even stopped calling to me. Same with the Nestle Quik and the cake mix, from whence cometh cake-mix-cookies (there are about 8 pounds on my hips just from those). They all are quiet now, and only good wholesome foods are allowed in my mouth. I was biting M&M's in half for Jackson tonight and trying desperately to keep all chocolate crumbs out of my mouth. Is that crazy or WHAT?

    Anywho, so stay tuned to see just how fast I can lose all this weight. My Granny is turning 80 in December and we're having a big open house party for her. I'd like to need some new clothes for that. We'll see if I do, won't we? You'll have to stick around to find out!

    Fatty Patty is on the way out, and Skinny Minny is moving back home, baby...

    Monday, October 8, 2007

    If Cathy Fell Out Of CyberSpace?

    Weird to even consider it in 2007, but I think I may be. I think I really have classic internet addiction. Seriously. Sounds stupid and made-up, right? But it's a real thing, (google it, I'll wait) ... and I think I've got it!

    It's too bad, because there are so many legitimate things that I really do "need" the internet for! Online banking, for starters. Going back to phone banking or waiting around for my paper statement sounds CRAZY. Not to mention paying my bills online - saves me a TON of money in postage every year! Keeping in touch with family and friends - another aspect I would sorely miss! Online research when a thought tickles my brain and needs an answer...where would I go, if not my beloved web? No Google? No No Wikipedia? Sounds like madness! And no one sends pictures of their kids in the mail anymore - they send 'em on email! Just like I do! Go back to snail mail? MADNESS!

    But what is ALSO madness is that I cannot keep a clean house despite the fact that I am in it practically 24/7. What is madness is that laundry could easily be kept up on if I would stay caught up and do some every day. What is madness is that I waste my son's nap time every day jacking around on the internet when I could be getting 90% of my day's chores done.

    The time I spend off the PC is spent primarily with my kids and my husband. And yes, that is most important, but what am I teaching my kids about keeping a clean house? About responsibility? About good use of time? Not much, most days. How well will that serve them in their future? My job is to raise responsible adults. I wonder how I would do on a job evaluation right about now? (Maybe that's what this is...I think I'm in trouble...)

    I never seem to have enough time online (a classic web addict symptom) ... I have message boards (yes, plural) to check in on, to post on, to read on. I have three email accounts to check each day, which each have assorted and varied emails I must read and respond to. I have to check my hometown newspaper every day to keep up with what's going on there. One time I didn't for a while, and a friend's dad died and I didn't know it and felt like a real ass, so I can't stop doing that, right? I have to check craigslist - I need more free stuff for my house. And I have to POST on craigslist, to get RID of stuff to make more room for more stuff. I have to update my weightloss ticker (when I actually lose weight)...I have to enter the Publisher's Clearing House sweepstakes (hey, people win, shut up!)...I have to BLOG, don't I? Don't I? And as I tell Greg so often and so vehemently, the "web is my link to the outside world during the day". Yeah, it is. But isn't that a choice?


    It's getting increasingly more difficult to make all this business make sense in my head, to justify the time I spend on here, and I think a change is on the horizon for me. The thought of it makes me queasy, no lie. Some of my very closest, truest girlfriends of my life exist to me only in this computer, I have never laid eyes on them or sat in the same room with them. Yet I have shared things with them that I haven't share with many, if any, people IRL. I would so desperately miss being a part of such a close inner-(cyber)circle, and would miss their friendship, their support and their help. Can I keep up friendships with them via snail-mail and phone? Sure. But I'll still be missing out on the every-day interaction that goes on, and eventually that bond will fade away. It's just the nature of it. OL friendships are fed and nutured by OL interation.

    But there is a part of me that is yearning to be not attached at the ASS to this chair. Part of me that wants to see if I can find some sort of physical activity I enjoy more than I enjoy having saddle bags (computer-chair-shaped-saddle-bags, bytheway). Part of me wants to just shut it off and be DONE with it. The worst part of an addiction is the feeling of being a slave to something outside yourself. It's what I hated about smoking, what I hate about sugar (which I am currently de-toxing from again), and what I hate about the web. Damned addictive personaility, anyway. Good thing I never tried meth or coke!

    I have a friend who took the leap. She left the message board we had in common. She made a clean break. Her computer time is very limited now, and is monitored by her husband via password, at her request. We miss her, but from what I can tell she is VERY happy with her decision, and is doing all the things she should be doing. I am happy for her and have spent a great deal of time thinking about her decision.

    I wonder if that would work for me. I know Greg would put me on password if I wanted that, but part of me kind of thinks that's like trying to take an alcoholic to the bar and then giving them just two drinks? Is it possible to do part-time computer when you have a full-time addiction? I'm not sure. I definitely think I would like to try that before I give up the PC altogether. I just can't imagine going back to having NO web (maybe that's just the web junkie in me talking...two drinks are better than NONE, right...)

    And do I just sound like the BIGGEST LOSER ever BLOGGING about this? I could have cleaned three rooms of my house in the time I've spent typing this. Thus is the nature of the beast.

    More on this later...right now I have emails to check and REALLY should get UP and get some housework done. I wonder if I will. Wagers on that? Any takers?

    Yeah, me neither.

    Saturday, October 6, 2007

    Trip To Urgent Care

    So Greg badgered me until I went in today for this rash, which did not go away and was really pretty unbearable. And new spots were cropping up on my hip and back. So I went.

    He (the dr.) said pretty much what I thought he would say:

    "We have no way of knowing what's causing it, unless you specifically know what's causing it. It's systemic because you have it all over you, not just in one spot. So ointments aren't going to do much"... (He was right about that shit) "... Are you taking an antihistamine? Ok, so take Claritin during the day and take a Benedryl at night, and here's a shot in the ass of steroids that will hurt like hell." Ok, so that is paraphrased, but I can't quote him verbatim because I understood approximately 40% of what Dr. Vijay said to me, bless his heart.

    Anyway, he said the shot might hurt ("sting" I think he said). And it did. He is DAMNED good with a needle, I felt very little at injection time. But by the time I got in my van to come home, it felt like a contraction in my hip, for those who've had that experience. Yeah, it felt THAT good. I was actually breathing through it and visualizing a pain-free hip and hive-free legs and feet. Good to know those childbirth classes have been worth their price!

    So seven hours later...I'm still itching in spots, took my Claritin which I think gave me a headache (never taken one before, and never had a headache like this one..suffice it to say I am NOT "Claritin Clear"), and I can't take the Benadryl until I'm ready for bed because it does the same to me as about 5 shots of schnapps. Seriously. Greg thinks it's hilarious. Me, not so much.

    I made myself an oatmeal bath last night, and used regular oatmeal since I'm out of Aveeno oatmeal baths, which I ground to a powder in my Magic Bullet, which I LOVE (that's another BLOG)...and it just didn't do the trick. Something tells me colloidal oatmeal and Quaker are not exactly the same. What else? I've tried hydrocortizone, Lanacane, Aveeno Soothing Mentol Lotion, warm baths, cool showers, ignoring, crying...what seems to work the best, but is ripping up my skin, is SCRATCHING. I'm not spreading it because it's not dermal, it's systemic, meaning it'll pop up where ever it wants to whether I scratch or not. So much to Greg's upset, I scratch. And scratch, and scratch. I fight the urge for hours, use creams and drugs and water and sleep, and then, finally, I give in, and scratch, with sweet abandon and great fervor. In fact, shortly I think I'll give in again and go scratch, my ankles are itching like mad.

    I have NO idea what's causing this, but it sure sucks. Let's hope it stops soon.

    Friday, October 5, 2007

    Freakin' RASH, Man...

    NO, not THAT kind of rash, but I seriously itch like a mofo, and it's not improving with time.

    Started last night, the tops of my feet and my ankles were really itchy. But I wore socks and tennis shoes all day, and sometimes that irritates my feet and ankles (yes, that tells you how often I WEAR shoes all day, doesn't it?)...I ignored the fact that I had been wearing ankle-less socks and tried to ignore, ignore, ignore the itching, with no luck. Then my legs started itching, and my arms. Mostly now it's my inner thighs and my calves and the tops of my feet and hands. Last night there were pretty big hives, today the hives aren't as obvious but it's still red and itches like MAD.

    Can't take Benadryl yet b/c Greg is at work and I am here with the kids...and Benadryl makes me maybe later...wish I knew what was causing this, though...

    I'd show you pics, but the pictures I took accentuate the POOR shaving job I have been doing lately. There are a couple on the back of my calf that have been missed at least twice, maybe three times. And you'd see that I shave my upper thighs only when I am in a bathing suit in public with strangers, and we all KNOW how often THAT happens, right?

    So just trust me when I say it looks red, blotchy, and it itches like MAD. Just what I wanted for the weekend, huh?