This originally started out as a Five on Friday post. After I wrote the first bullet point and saw A. how long it was and B. how long it would take y'all to digest such a story and C. how HILARIOUS it is, I decided this story could stand on it's own. And really...who doesn't love a good poop story?
**If you have a weak stomach, you may want to skip this one. FYTMI means For Your Too Much Information. And this probably is slightly over that line. :)**
On Wednesday night, I experienced what I've deemed on Facebook as The Great Poop Massacre of 2012. I thought maybe I'd elaborate.
The newest phase for Jayna is that she just wants to play. She doesn't want to eat. She doesn't want to sleep. She doesn't want to take a bath (unless it's a bubble bath and she can play in there). She doesn't want to pee. And she DEFINITELY doesn't want to poop. It isn't because she's afraid or because it hurts or anything. It's because she Just. Wants. To play. It takes entirely too long for her to go to the bathroom...she's afraid she'll miss her favorite song on her Disney Princess Songs CD or her "friends" (the imaginary and infamous Babe, Boppy and Cici) will mess up her room while she's in the bathroom.
Anyhoo, all of this causes the problem of Jayna waiting until THEVERYLASTMINUTE to go to the bathroom.
She was playing in her room and I was getting ready to start cooking dinner. She came running into the kitchen holding her butt (because, you know, THAT will keep the poop in) and screamed, "MOMMY!!! I have to poop RIGHT NOW!!" And since I knew the urgency of the situation, I skipped asking her all the obvious questions such as, "Why did you wait this long?" and "Didn't you have to PASS the bathroom to come tell me this?" and "Do you REALLY think holding your butt will keep poop in?" You know, all the burning questions parents have regarding a situation such as this one but you don't ask because you know you'll get many many baloney answers. Such as, "Yes, holding my butt will keep the poop in because when I hold the top of a balloon, the air stays in." (That is a true life real answer. Because while she was going to the bathroom, I asked her. And that was her answer. I should've known not to actually ask.)
I digress.
We got to the bathroom, got the potty seat on top of the toilet and the stool in front of the toilet. She stood up on the stool and JUST before she sat down..........................she exploded. All over the seat, lid, tank, WALL, vanity, side of the bathtub...EVERYWHERE. And she still had more to go. How do you make a kid stop pooping so you can clean? Umm...you can't. Trust me here. I tried. You just have to clean up around her and let her just finish.
So I got the cleaner. I usually use a homemade cleaner made of borax, water, vinegar, Castille soap and essential oil. I...well, let's just say I didn't trust it for this particular situation. I broke out the Clorox Cleanup for this one. I began to clean the things furthest from her. The WALL. The exterior of the BATHTUB. The side of the VANITY. The things that DEFINITELY shouldn't have poop on them. And then she was done. Luckily, none of the explosion had made it's way onto her at this point. So I sat down on the side of the bathtub to wipe her.
As she stood up, some...loose stuff...dripped down onto her stool and she stepped in it. She immediately noticed that there was something wet on her foot. I kept going because I didn't want to alarm her. But she noticed and said, "Mommy, there is something wet on my foot." (She also immediately stepped on her OTHER foot with the contaminated foot...so now not ONE but TWO poop feet.) I replied that she should let me finish and then we would take care of her foot. It should be said that she couldn't see her feet at the time. When I was rotating toilet tissue, she caught a glimpse of her feet.
And all hell broke loose.
"MOMMY!!!!!!! MOMMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I HAVE POOP ON MY FOOT. AHHHH!!!!!!! I HAVE POOP ON BOTH MY FEET!!! GET IT OFF!! GETTTTTT IIIITTTTTTT OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!!!!"
She jumped off of her stool and started dancing around the bathroom...WITH POOP ON BOTH HER FEET...like a girly girl who just saw a bug. She was screaming at the top of her lungs and holding both sides of her dress up with her hands and just kept dancing All. Over. The bathroom.
I clearly needed to do something. But I was trying not to laugh, cry and vomit all at the same time. And I really didn't know what to do.
So I did the FIRST thing I could think of that would isolate her. I picked her up and stood her in the bathtub.
Good one, moron. Now there's poop INSIDE the bathtub too.
After right around 40 minutes, I had a poop free child. It was another 45 before I had a poop free bathroom. I also had what I believe to be severely damaged lung tissue from breathing in all those bleach fumes.
I took EVERY fabric and washable thing out of the bathroom and washed it in hot water. I threw away the mat that goes into our bathtub. We were getting ready to do away with it anyway. We had it for when Jayna was little and we were afraid of her slipping in the tub. Well, she's almost 4 and she bounces now. :)
I of course immediately posted the situation to Facebook. I mean, what else was I supposed to do? I wanted to make sure to tell potential parents about The Poop Massacre. It's important for people to know what they're getting into.
I don't have a weak stomach. And this one wasn't really that bad. It doesn't even hold a candle to the night she puked in seemingly every room of our house. But there is just something about having THAT MUCH POOP all over the place that is slightly disconcerting. And by slightly, I mean to the umpteenth degree.
I may need therapy.
Anyone know a good psychiatrist who doesn't mind talking about poop?
Showing posts with label YUCK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label YUCK. Show all posts
Friday, May 11, 2012
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Wednesday Whits...and Woes
Sorry for the lack of blogging. I know y'all were sad to not read my blog for a whole week. :)
Last week I went to Bloomington for the conference thing on Thursday and Friday and the the weekend was packed full of junk too. Good, but packed.
WHITS
We've been talking with Jayna a lot about the change of seasons. She's super stoked that Spring is here because that means she can play outside. Yesterday she said to me, "Is it Summer yet mommy?" I told her no, it was still Spring. She said, "Can we make it Summer so I can go swimming?" :)
As we were playing outside a few days ago, Jayna heard the neighbor kid, who is around 6, call his cousin a dummy. She looked at me and said, "He said dummy. That's a bad word." She then ran over to the fence and yelled, "HEY YOU!!! You don't say 'dummy.' It's a bad word and you get a time out!!!"
I told her yesterday to "watch out for dog dirt" as she was walking through a particular spot in our yard. She said, "It's not dirt mom. THAT'S dirt." (pointed to the ground). She then walked over to some dog poop, got down close to it (her finger was about an inch away from touching it) and said, "THAT'S poop. And it stinks. And if I get it on my shoe I throw it away. Ewwwwww!!!!!"
Last night she asked me if we could trade panties. And then we had that SAME CONVERSATION about wearing only YOUR OWN panties. This can't be good, can it??
WOES
I'm full of woes today. Not sure why...just in a funk. I can't sleep. Ever. It's annoying. This happens from time to time, but this time it's lasting entirely too long. As in 3 weeks.
I am *almost* afraid to run. It's quite strange. After I was told that me putting too much pressure on myself was causing me to have the anxiety problem, I am afraid to put ANY pressure on myself. I'm looking for middle ground and I just haven't found it yet. I ran on Saturday with KT and went 4.5 miles in just under an hour. I thank her for being supportive and motivational. She was the perfect mix of a friend who cares and a coach who wants me to do my best. MY best. Not her best. MINE. That is soooo helpful. She also gave me some tips on how to make things easier on myself...including some lifestyle changes. I've done it before and I can do it again.
I'm just not sure how to do it on my own. I don't have enough confidence in myself that I could walk out my front door and run for 4.5 miles with no one there pushing me along. I WANT to. I'm just not sure I CAN. Besides becoming a parent, I'm not sure I've EVER been so unsure of myself as I am with this. Practice makes perfect, though, so I have to start trying.
My diet has gone to hell. Not diet in the sense of trying to lose weight, but just everyday diet in general. This winter was hell for me and I'm just now trying to get back on track. I was positive that I could stay at the weight I was at in October, make it through the winter, and pick up again in March to lose the last 10 or 15 pounds. Ha! Not likely. I've gained back a few...6 or 7....pounds and I now have just that much more to lose.
Something is off. Or someTHINGS are off. Have been for awhile. Don't really know what...but it would be nice to figure it out. I'm not sure I've EVER struggled this much with life in general. Somethings gotta give soon.
Last week I went to Bloomington for the conference thing on Thursday and Friday and the the weekend was packed full of junk too. Good, but packed.
WHITS
We've been talking with Jayna a lot about the change of seasons. She's super stoked that Spring is here because that means she can play outside. Yesterday she said to me, "Is it Summer yet mommy?" I told her no, it was still Spring. She said, "Can we make it Summer so I can go swimming?" :)
As we were playing outside a few days ago, Jayna heard the neighbor kid, who is around 6, call his cousin a dummy. She looked at me and said, "He said dummy. That's a bad word." She then ran over to the fence and yelled, "HEY YOU!!! You don't say 'dummy.' It's a bad word and you get a time out!!!"
I told her yesterday to "watch out for dog dirt" as she was walking through a particular spot in our yard. She said, "It's not dirt mom. THAT'S dirt." (pointed to the ground). She then walked over to some dog poop, got down close to it (her finger was about an inch away from touching it) and said, "THAT'S poop. And it stinks. And if I get it on my shoe I throw it away. Ewwwwww!!!!!"
Last night she asked me if we could trade panties. And then we had that SAME CONVERSATION about wearing only YOUR OWN panties. This can't be good, can it??
WOES
I'm full of woes today. Not sure why...just in a funk. I can't sleep. Ever. It's annoying. This happens from time to time, but this time it's lasting entirely too long. As in 3 weeks.
I am *almost* afraid to run. It's quite strange. After I was told that me putting too much pressure on myself was causing me to have the anxiety problem, I am afraid to put ANY pressure on myself. I'm looking for middle ground and I just haven't found it yet. I ran on Saturday with KT and went 4.5 miles in just under an hour. I thank her for being supportive and motivational. She was the perfect mix of a friend who cares and a coach who wants me to do my best. MY best. Not her best. MINE. That is soooo helpful. She also gave me some tips on how to make things easier on myself...including some lifestyle changes. I've done it before and I can do it again.
I'm just not sure how to do it on my own. I don't have enough confidence in myself that I could walk out my front door and run for 4.5 miles with no one there pushing me along. I WANT to. I'm just not sure I CAN. Besides becoming a parent, I'm not sure I've EVER been so unsure of myself as I am with this. Practice makes perfect, though, so I have to start trying.
My diet has gone to hell. Not diet in the sense of trying to lose weight, but just everyday diet in general. This winter was hell for me and I'm just now trying to get back on track. I was positive that I could stay at the weight I was at in October, make it through the winter, and pick up again in March to lose the last 10 or 15 pounds. Ha! Not likely. I've gained back a few...6 or 7....pounds and I now have just that much more to lose.
Something is off. Or someTHINGS are off. Have been for awhile. Don't really know what...but it would be nice to figure it out. I'm not sure I've EVER struggled this much with life in general. Somethings gotta give soon.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Random Wednesday Lists: Train of Thought
Here are some random lists that are going through my head:
Things Jayna is now afraid of:
* The dark
* Shadows
* Patrick Star from Spongebob
* Any sort of mask/glasses/mustache combo
* The bathroom
* Her bedroom when no one else is in there even if the light is on
* The living room
* The hobby room
* Every room in our house except the kitchen when the light is on
* Being anywhere alone (and Ollie doesn't count as a being)
* The TV when it's turned off (I think there's a bigger problem there...)
* The TV when a recorded show ends and the screen turns blue
* Loud noises
* The wind (okay, not really...but may as well be)
Races I'm running:
* Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure - 5K In Honor of Saffron Yarbrough
* March of Dimes March for Babies - 5K Inspired to run and raise money by Kayla Aimee and baby Scarlette
* One America 500 Festival Mini Marathon - 13.1 miles...I'm aiming for half at this point
* More to come after I assess the situation after the Mini.
A few of the dreams I've had while taking Medrol (a steroid for my crazy rash):
Just a quick note about this before the list...the doctor NEVER mentioned anything about crazy dreams, but upon further research, I've discovered that it's fairly common to have very vivid nightmares/dreams while taking steroids like Prednisone or Medrol. Maybe she didn't want me to have psychosomatic side effects, but it was really scary the first night. These dreams are REAL and I wake up EVERYTIME disoriented and doing whatever motion I was doing in my dream.
* Swinging with Jayna (I woke up rocking as if I were swinging on a swing) and she fell out of the swing and got stabbed with a stick. I gasped when I woke up and checked on her. I was unsure of how we got from the backyard to our beds in such a short amount of time. I remember thinking, "She still needs a bath!!!"
* A college class about teeth in which I had to shuffle through a row of people in a lecture hall to the very last seat at the other end of the row when I could've just started at the other end. I then failed the class because all my teeth fell out in class. I woke up SITTING UP on the side of the bed and shuffling my feet on the floor while checking my mouth for teeth.
* Chris giving birth to a bouncing baby girl. I...won't go into detail. It was quite the strange dream and again...I woke up and had to check our house for another baby before I realized that I was awake and that...wait for it....CHRIS CAN'T HAVE BABIES.
* Morgan has been in almost every dream. Once he was sailing a boat. Once he was fighting a bear (we'll get to that one) and once he went to Old Indiana with me (that one's next).
* I went to Old Indiana with the Quags family, my friend Holly, Morgan and my mom. We were on our way there and got lost. We found this house that morphed into trees and plants and got so caught up in how cool it was that we forgot to go to Old Indiana and then it closed. (It is, in fact, closed, by the way.) Morgan just constantly barked at the morphing house.
* I went on vacation with Chris, Jayna, Michelle R., Ellie and some other people. Jayna and Ellie were running back and forth in front of a HUGE window. An old lady yelled at them for running in the hall so they ran THROUGH the window instead just to piss her off. They were completely unharmed, but they knocked over a fish tank in the process and I woke up picking up fish off of our bed.
* And last night...I had some people over to my house to have a backyard party (it was actually my mom's backyard). There was a bear in my backyard. We blocked the deck with a baby gate so the bear wouldn't get us. He came around to the other deck entrance and Morgan attacked the bear. The bear was then really pissed off so I yelled at it and told it to go away and it went and hid behind our shed. I woke up sweating and REALLY scared because while I was asleep having a dream about a bear that I **should have** been afraid of, I wasn't afraid of it in the dream. My half-awake self was telling my subconscious dream self to be afraid of the bear. I was afraid for my OWN life in my OWN dream. I'm probably doing a shitty job of explaining that, but it was really crazy.
What I need at the grocery store/Target:
* Eggs
* Jayna's milk
* Cranberry juice
* Potato chips
* Hot dog buns
* Six pack of beer
* Body wash
* Listerine
* Oatmeal
Do YOU have a list to make??
Things Jayna is now afraid of:
* The dark
* Shadows
* Patrick Star from Spongebob
* Any sort of mask/glasses/mustache combo
* Every room in our house except the kitchen when the light is on
* Being anywhere alone (and Ollie doesn't count as a being)
* The TV when it's turned off (I think there's a bigger problem there...)
* The TV when a recorded show ends and the screen turns blue
* Loud noises
* The wind (okay, not really...but may as well be)
Races I'm running:
* Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure - 5K In Honor of Saffron Yarbrough
* March of Dimes March for Babies - 5K Inspired to run and raise money by Kayla Aimee and baby Scarlette
* One America 500 Festival Mini Marathon - 13.1 miles...I'm aiming for half at this point
* More to come after I assess the situation after the Mini.
A few of the dreams I've had while taking Medrol (a steroid for my crazy rash):
Just a quick note about this before the list...the doctor NEVER mentioned anything about crazy dreams, but upon further research, I've discovered that it's fairly common to have very vivid nightmares/dreams while taking steroids like Prednisone or Medrol. Maybe she didn't want me to have psychosomatic side effects, but it was really scary the first night. These dreams are REAL and I wake up EVERYTIME disoriented and doing whatever motion I was doing in my dream.
* Swinging with Jayna (I woke up rocking as if I were swinging on a swing) and she fell out of the swing and got stabbed with a stick. I gasped when I woke up and checked on her. I was unsure of how we got from the backyard to our beds in such a short amount of time. I remember thinking, "She still needs a bath!!!"
* A college class about teeth in which I had to shuffle through a row of people in a lecture hall to the very last seat at the other end of the row when I could've just started at the other end. I then failed the class because all my teeth fell out in class. I woke up SITTING UP on the side of the bed and shuffling my feet on the floor while checking my mouth for teeth.
* Chris giving birth to a bouncing baby girl. I...won't go into detail. It was quite the strange dream and again...I woke up and had to check our house for another baby before I realized that I was awake and that...wait for it....CHRIS CAN'T HAVE BABIES.
* Morgan has been in almost every dream. Once he was sailing a boat. Once he was fighting a bear (we'll get to that one) and once he went to Old Indiana with me (that one's next).
* I went to Old Indiana with the Quags family, my friend Holly, Morgan and my mom. We were on our way there and got lost. We found this house that morphed into trees and plants and got so caught up in how cool it was that we forgot to go to Old Indiana and then it closed. (It is, in fact, closed, by the way.) Morgan just constantly barked at the morphing house.
* I went on vacation with Chris, Jayna, Michelle R., Ellie and some other people. Jayna and Ellie were running back and forth in front of a HUGE window. An old lady yelled at them for running in the hall so they ran THROUGH the window instead just to piss her off. They were completely unharmed, but they knocked over a fish tank in the process and I woke up picking up fish off of our bed.
* And last night...I had some people over to my house to have a backyard party (it was actually my mom's backyard). There was a bear in my backyard. We blocked the deck with a baby gate so the bear wouldn't get us. He came around to the other deck entrance and Morgan attacked the bear. The bear was then really pissed off so I yelled at it and told it to go away and it went and hid behind our shed. I woke up sweating and REALLY scared because while I was asleep having a dream about a bear that I **should have** been afraid of, I wasn't afraid of it in the dream. My half-awake self was telling my subconscious dream self to be afraid of the bear. I was afraid for my OWN life in my OWN dream. I'm probably doing a shitty job of explaining that, but it was really crazy.
What I need at the grocery store/Target:
* Eggs
* Jayna's milk
* Cranberry juice
* Potato chips
* Hot dog buns
* Six pack of beer
* Body wash
* Listerine
* Oatmeal
Do YOU have a list to make??
Monday, March 14, 2011
Melancholy Monday: Me
I've realized that I don't just write directly about myself very often. I write about things I do and about my kid and my dogs and my husband and other things, but I don't write just about me. As in, "Hey there!! How ya doin, kid??" And then I'd answer.
Probably because I don't *like* to answer that question. My default answer would be, "I'm okay." And that makes for a pretty boring blog entry.
I've debated since last Thursday as to whether I'd even write this entry. And then as I was lying awake last night, a very profound and important answer came to me...."Whatever."
Yes, you read that right. I said, "Whatever." That was it. I asked myself a question and the answer I received back was, "Whatever." And at 3:30am, it seemed very profound.
So apparently I'm okay with writing about this now.
I supposed I just needed 3 or 4 days to process everything.
And it is highly likely that I'm making this a bigger deal than it is. Which is, in turn, probably why I've typed 2 dozen sentences and y'all don't even know what I'm talking about yet.
Last Thursday I had my annual doctor visit with my women's health doctor. No, not JUST the lady doctor...she does way more than that. She is by far the best and most attentive doctor I've ever had.
To catch you up, there are a few things you should know. I have a rash all over my whole body. I've written about this before, but not to a great degree. It started about a week after I began running (which is why it's always been attributed to sweat/heat). It doesn't itch. It doesn't burn. It was sort of misdiagnosed by a nurse practitioner as either heat or sweat (prickly heat) rash. I'd been applying hydrocortisone cream and water-based lotion to no avail. The stupid rash kept spreading and was getting WAY worse.
When the assistant at the doctor's office took my blood pressure and asked me a jillion questions that didn't even really seem to pertain to my health, she also asked me if I had any additional questions/concerns for the doctor. And I mentioned the rash. The doctor was going to see it anyway.
She looked at it and was immediately afraid to touch me after that. Good grief. Anyhoo, she said she'd write it down...and write it down she did.
So the doc comes in and asks me immediately, "So what is this rash??" I showed her and she actually became concerned. I then told her the story that I wrote above. She looked up a few things in a book and said, "Have you been dealing with a great deal of stress or anxiety?" Huh.
I referenced the fact that I was trying to run 13 miles. She laughed. "Oh you...you can't train from nothing to run 13 miles in only 5 months. Really." And then she asked me 20 other questions like if I'd changed my laundry detergent or body soap. Nope. Haven't changed a thing.
So then she says, "Why are you shaking your foot? Are you nervous about being here? I don't remember you ever being nervous here." I was NOT, in fact, nervous. I LOVE my doctor and I have never been afraid of doctors. Not even "that doctor."
She then said, "You're also picking at your fingernails." That didn't surprise me. If you know me, you know that I was an avid nail biter until around 4 years ago. Now I occasionally just pick at my cuticles. Classy, I know.
Then we talk about the running a little more and, seemingly out of the blue, she says, "I'm going to go get an anxiety questionaire. I think that's a good place to start." Oh dear.
She asked me loads of questions. She then asked, "Have you lost a loved one? Someone close to you?" I replied with, "I lost my best friend. My dog Morgan."
HOLY SHIT!!! Where the hell did that come from?? I didn't even tell myself to say that. Seriously. And then I started crying right there in the room with the doctor watching me and telling me that it would be okay. Geez.
I was pretty sure that I had turned a corner last month sometime. Apparently I turned right when I should've turned left.
I really didn't know that that situation was still bothering me that much.
She then may or may not have mentioned to me that I had talked about running like it was a job and not a hobby or goal. Ugh. And that I was kidding myself if I thought I'd be able to run the entire mini. While deep down I know she's right, it's really difficult to HEAR things like that.
I told her that I'd had a couple of bad days here and there, but overall I thought I was okay. She asked me to explain my worst day. After talking about that day, she said, "You know, it sounds like you were on the edge of a panic attack." Woah.
She then diagnosed my rash as something that was 5 words long, had only 2 vowels, and was almost unable to be pronounced. And she said, "This rash, like most, is HIGHLY exacerbated by stress and anxiety. I've not seen it to this degree." Oh.
So she took some blood, or a LOT of it, and told me she'd also test me for a battery of things in case the anxiety and rash were part of a bigger problem. After 9 tubes, I got a little antsy. What was she testing me for??
I never did get a straight answer on that as the phlebotomist wasn't at liberty to answer my questions. My doctor just kept telling me, "When I see you again in 3 months, you'll be a brand new person. I just KNOW it!!"
Two prescriptions for the rash and an anxiety med that I can take only if I feel I need it. I'm okay with all of that.
I've never had problems with stress or anxiety to the degree that a doctor noticed. My doctor also did not pressure me to take anti-depressants or anxiety meds. She said it was only one of many options and gave me the run-down on what she thought would help. First and foremost...I should reduce the amount of self-imposed stress.
I struggled with that a first, as it basically means that I have to stop with running goals that are, at this time, out of my reach. I've since re-evaluated my life, my limits (time and physical) and my sanity. They're all sort of in the crapper right now. So a re-evaluation was needed.
My life right now will NOT allow me to train hard enough to run the bulk of the mini. I have a family and a job and shit to do. Seriously. My time limits are being tested on a daily basis as I struggle with making time to go to the gym or run outside. My physical limits are being tested on account of the fact that I went from pretty much NO exercised to a WHOLE BUNCH of it. My right knee is currently in a compression brace to stop the ache. And these days it seems that I LIVE on the edge of sanity. Which means insanity is right over the line I'm toeing.
I can't keep up with myself. It's so much more than frustrating that I can't even put it into words.
I NEVER want running to become a chore. I LOVE it and I want to continue doing it for a LOT of years. I want to run mini-marathons and 5Ks and such and have fun. And be healthy. I don't want to be a ball of anxiety that forces herself to go to the gym for the sake of being there. That's not how I do.
Where does this leave me?
No more running stress. More realistic goals. Less worrying if I don't exactly reach those goals.
I've now committed myself to 3 training days a week. I'll do 2 weekdays and one weekend day. I'll do short runs on the weekdays and a long run on the weekend. That's what I can do at this point. Time with my growing child who will NOT be a toddler forever is WAY more important to me than a stupid race.
My short(er) term goal is to run 6.5 miles of the mini. That's around half. If I do that all at once...awesome. If I do 2 or 3 shorter runs...awesome.
Long term goal? What is THAT??? :) Long term goal is to run the 2012 mini and....run THE WHOLE THING. Seriously. Y'all just watch.
In regards to Morgan...time. And hugs. If you see me, it's highly likely that I'll need a hug. If I cry, don't feel bad. I'm just crying tears of joy that I have good friends and family who allow me to be crazy but then help bring me back to earth. And don't judge me the whole time. :)
I love you all.
Probably because I don't *like* to answer that question. My default answer would be, "I'm okay." And that makes for a pretty boring blog entry.
I've debated since last Thursday as to whether I'd even write this entry. And then as I was lying awake last night, a very profound and important answer came to me...."Whatever."
Yes, you read that right. I said, "Whatever." That was it. I asked myself a question and the answer I received back was, "Whatever." And at 3:30am, it seemed very profound.
So apparently I'm okay with writing about this now.
I supposed I just needed 3 or 4 days to process everything.
And it is highly likely that I'm making this a bigger deal than it is. Which is, in turn, probably why I've typed 2 dozen sentences and y'all don't even know what I'm talking about yet.
Last Thursday I had my annual doctor visit with my women's health doctor. No, not JUST the lady doctor...she does way more than that. She is by far the best and most attentive doctor I've ever had.
To catch you up, there are a few things you should know. I have a rash all over my whole body. I've written about this before, but not to a great degree. It started about a week after I began running (which is why it's always been attributed to sweat/heat). It doesn't itch. It doesn't burn. It was sort of misdiagnosed by a nurse practitioner as either heat or sweat (prickly heat) rash. I'd been applying hydrocortisone cream and water-based lotion to no avail. The stupid rash kept spreading and was getting WAY worse.
When the assistant at the doctor's office took my blood pressure and asked me a jillion questions that didn't even really seem to pertain to my health, she also asked me if I had any additional questions/concerns for the doctor. And I mentioned the rash. The doctor was going to see it anyway.
She looked at it and was immediately afraid to touch me after that. Good grief. Anyhoo, she said she'd write it down...and write it down she did.
So the doc comes in and asks me immediately, "So what is this rash??" I showed her and she actually became concerned. I then told her the story that I wrote above. She looked up a few things in a book and said, "Have you been dealing with a great deal of stress or anxiety?" Huh.
I referenced the fact that I was trying to run 13 miles. She laughed. "Oh you...you can't train from nothing to run 13 miles in only 5 months. Really." And then she asked me 20 other questions like if I'd changed my laundry detergent or body soap. Nope. Haven't changed a thing.
So then she says, "Why are you shaking your foot? Are you nervous about being here? I don't remember you ever being nervous here." I was NOT, in fact, nervous. I LOVE my doctor and I have never been afraid of doctors. Not even "that doctor."
She then said, "You're also picking at your fingernails." That didn't surprise me. If you know me, you know that I was an avid nail biter until around 4 years ago. Now I occasionally just pick at my cuticles. Classy, I know.
Then we talk about the running a little more and, seemingly out of the blue, she says, "I'm going to go get an anxiety questionaire. I think that's a good place to start." Oh dear.
She asked me loads of questions. She then asked, "Have you lost a loved one? Someone close to you?" I replied with, "I lost my best friend. My dog Morgan."
HOLY SHIT!!! Where the hell did that come from?? I didn't even tell myself to say that. Seriously. And then I started crying right there in the room with the doctor watching me and telling me that it would be okay. Geez.
I was pretty sure that I had turned a corner last month sometime. Apparently I turned right when I should've turned left.
I really didn't know that that situation was still bothering me that much.
She then may or may not have mentioned to me that I had talked about running like it was a job and not a hobby or goal. Ugh. And that I was kidding myself if I thought I'd be able to run the entire mini. While deep down I know she's right, it's really difficult to HEAR things like that.
I told her that I'd had a couple of bad days here and there, but overall I thought I was okay. She asked me to explain my worst day. After talking about that day, she said, "You know, it sounds like you were on the edge of a panic attack." Woah.
She then diagnosed my rash as something that was 5 words long, had only 2 vowels, and was almost unable to be pronounced. And she said, "This rash, like most, is HIGHLY exacerbated by stress and anxiety. I've not seen it to this degree." Oh.
So she took some blood, or a LOT of it, and told me she'd also test me for a battery of things in case the anxiety and rash were part of a bigger problem. After 9 tubes, I got a little antsy. What was she testing me for??
I never did get a straight answer on that as the phlebotomist wasn't at liberty to answer my questions. My doctor just kept telling me, "When I see you again in 3 months, you'll be a brand new person. I just KNOW it!!"
Two prescriptions for the rash and an anxiety med that I can take only if I feel I need it. I'm okay with all of that.
I've never had problems with stress or anxiety to the degree that a doctor noticed. My doctor also did not pressure me to take anti-depressants or anxiety meds. She said it was only one of many options and gave me the run-down on what she thought would help. First and foremost...I should reduce the amount of self-imposed stress.
I struggled with that a first, as it basically means that I have to stop with running goals that are, at this time, out of my reach. I've since re-evaluated my life, my limits (time and physical) and my sanity. They're all sort of in the crapper right now. So a re-evaluation was needed.
My life right now will NOT allow me to train hard enough to run the bulk of the mini. I have a family and a job and shit to do. Seriously. My time limits are being tested on a daily basis as I struggle with making time to go to the gym or run outside. My physical limits are being tested on account of the fact that I went from pretty much NO exercised to a WHOLE BUNCH of it. My right knee is currently in a compression brace to stop the ache. And these days it seems that I LIVE on the edge of sanity. Which means insanity is right over the line I'm toeing.
I can't keep up with myself. It's so much more than frustrating that I can't even put it into words.
I NEVER want running to become a chore. I LOVE it and I want to continue doing it for a LOT of years. I want to run mini-marathons and 5Ks and such and have fun. And be healthy. I don't want to be a ball of anxiety that forces herself to go to the gym for the sake of being there. That's not how I do.
Where does this leave me?
No more running stress. More realistic goals. Less worrying if I don't exactly reach those goals.
I've now committed myself to 3 training days a week. I'll do 2 weekdays and one weekend day. I'll do short runs on the weekdays and a long run on the weekend. That's what I can do at this point. Time with my growing child who will NOT be a toddler forever is WAY more important to me than a stupid race.
My short(er) term goal is to run 6.5 miles of the mini. That's around half. If I do that all at once...awesome. If I do 2 or 3 shorter runs...awesome.
Long term goal? What is THAT??? :) Long term goal is to run the 2012 mini and....run THE WHOLE THING. Seriously. Y'all just watch.
In regards to Morgan...time. And hugs. If you see me, it's highly likely that I'll need a hug. If I cry, don't feel bad. I'm just crying tears of joy that I have good friends and family who allow me to be crazy but then help bring me back to earth. And don't judge me the whole time. :)
I love you all.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Progress Report: Week 7
No more daily gym updates. That was getting to be too much for me. I can't even find the time to blog twice a week and I don't want my entire blog to be about running. Seriously.
Last week (2/14 to 2/20/11) was good. And then bad. And then good again.
Roller coasters are my favorite. Especially when I'm striving for consistency.
I had good intentions of running outside last week. It was freezing a couple of days and I've been fighting some cold/flu/allergy issues, so I was just happy that the gym provided a warm place where I could run and breathe. I ran at the gym all 3 days...Monday, Thursday and Saturday.
On Monday I ran a continuous 2.5 miles. I ran at 4.7 mph, so that put me at a 12:45 minute mile. That put me at 31.1 continuous minutes of running. And my lungs rebeled. So did my heart. But I did it and now it's easier. It seems that once I run a certain distance one time that it almost (I said almost) instantly becomes easier. I've been told that it's because I was better than I thought at the beginning and I'm still learning my limits...you know, starting from scratch and all.
On Tuesday I woke up sick and missed Tuesday and Wednesday. I went back, apparently prematurely, on Thursday and could only get in a mile before I nearly collapsed. I had a coughing fit that caused the very helpful and concerned girl next to me to take out her headphones and asked if she could "get my inhaler." She was just sure I was having an asthma attack. I assured her that I do not, in fact, have asthma and I just had a really horrendous cold. I left mainly out of embarrassment. I probably could've recovered and ran another mile, but I was way off my game and just wanted to go home.
By Saturday I was feeling 100% better, so I went with the intention of running 3 miles. I took Benadryl before I went for an allergy-related issue and I'm pretty sure that that's the worst thing I could ever do. I'll just have to suffer the allergies. I began like I do everytime and at half of a mile, I was light-headed and crampy and SUPER EFFIN' PISSED because of those things. I was doubled over in pain from the chest/side cramping and I thought I was pretty close to passing out. I pushed the dreaded stop button and just stood there doubled over and close to tears. I was sooooo angry at myself.
Just as I was gathering my things to leave, one of the trainers at my gym that I see everytime I'm there noticed that I was having less than a stellar workout and said to me as he walked by, "Don't go anywhere. I'll be back in a minute. Start walking again." So I followed directions.
He came back and gave me the motivational speech of a lifetime. I offered to hire him to go with me to the Mini, but he's also running. It also helps that he has actually witnessed all of my progress since he works there. He also gave me some pointers that I'd already been given by various people about breathing and stride and such. He said I was doing things right by taking it slow and that if I just stick with it I won't fail. I was told that "you don't need to one-up yourself EVERYTIME you run...if you do that you'll get frustrated and want to quit. Try only upping mileage or speed every couple of runs." It was nice that at that very moment I had someone on my side. :)
I ended up running another 2.25 miles. Thank you, Ryan.
So, there you have it. Up. Then down. Then up again. Here's to a new week of much needed consistency.
Last week (2/14 to 2/20/11) was good. And then bad. And then good again.
Roller coasters are my favorite. Especially when I'm striving for consistency.
I had good intentions of running outside last week. It was freezing a couple of days and I've been fighting some cold/flu/allergy issues, so I was just happy that the gym provided a warm place where I could run and breathe. I ran at the gym all 3 days...Monday, Thursday and Saturday.
On Monday I ran a continuous 2.5 miles. I ran at 4.7 mph, so that put me at a 12:45 minute mile. That put me at 31.1 continuous minutes of running. And my lungs rebeled. So did my heart. But I did it and now it's easier. It seems that once I run a certain distance one time that it almost (I said almost) instantly becomes easier. I've been told that it's because I was better than I thought at the beginning and I'm still learning my limits...you know, starting from scratch and all.
On Tuesday I woke up sick and missed Tuesday and Wednesday. I went back, apparently prematurely, on Thursday and could only get in a mile before I nearly collapsed. I had a coughing fit that caused the very helpful and concerned girl next to me to take out her headphones and asked if she could "get my inhaler." She was just sure I was having an asthma attack. I assured her that I do not, in fact, have asthma and I just had a really horrendous cold. I left mainly out of embarrassment. I probably could've recovered and ran another mile, but I was way off my game and just wanted to go home.
By Saturday I was feeling 100% better, so I went with the intention of running 3 miles. I took Benadryl before I went for an allergy-related issue and I'm pretty sure that that's the worst thing I could ever do. I'll just have to suffer the allergies. I began like I do everytime and at half of a mile, I was light-headed and crampy and SUPER EFFIN' PISSED because of those things. I was doubled over in pain from the chest/side cramping and I thought I was pretty close to passing out. I pushed the dreaded stop button and just stood there doubled over and close to tears. I was sooooo angry at myself.
Just as I was gathering my things to leave, one of the trainers at my gym that I see everytime I'm there noticed that I was having less than a stellar workout and said to me as he walked by, "Don't go anywhere. I'll be back in a minute. Start walking again." So I followed directions.
He came back and gave me the motivational speech of a lifetime. I offered to hire him to go with me to the Mini, but he's also running. It also helps that he has actually witnessed all of my progress since he works there. He also gave me some pointers that I'd already been given by various people about breathing and stride and such. He said I was doing things right by taking it slow and that if I just stick with it I won't fail. I was told that "you don't need to one-up yourself EVERYTIME you run...if you do that you'll get frustrated and want to quit. Try only upping mileage or speed every couple of runs." It was nice that at that very moment I had someone on my side. :)
I ended up running another 2.25 miles. Thank you, Ryan.
So, there you have it. Up. Then down. Then up again. Here's to a new week of much needed consistency.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Progress Report: Day 12
A little outdoor running?? Don't mind if I do!!
I sounded pretty happy up there, didn't I? Yeah...don't let that fool you. It was a disaster.
On Saturday, I wanted to run but didn't really have time to drive to the gym and all. It was upwards of 40 degrees, so I thought, "It can't be that bad! I'll dress warm and run the 1.5 miles I've mapped out in the neighborhood...piece of cake! I'll be home in 30 minutes tops!"
I should know better than to get my hopes up about running outside.
I have a pretty horrid cold right now, but it was 40 degrees!! Noone told me that the wind was blowing like crazy, though. That doesn't help.
My sinuses almost instantly filled up with mucus causing me to breathe through my mouth...which irritated my already scratchy and raw throat. I tried to suck it up and breathe through my congested nose, but snot bubbles are never attractive.
My lungs burned after a quarter of a mile with the wind blowing directly in my face. My hands were numb (note to self: wear gloves if it's under 50 degrees). And I couldn't pace myself to save my life.
I ran half a mile and gave it up. I was exhausted. I think I ran that half mile in about 6 minutes. That would put me at a 12 minute mile and that shouldn't seem that far out of my grasp...but I couldn't focus on anything except my lack of ability to breathe. I'm officially a sissy.
I do have to say that it was quite amusing to run in the hood, though. I saw a kid shoveling snow out of his YARD and putting it into an open shop vac. I saw a couple in their driveway arguing like cats and dogs. I was pretty sure the woman was going to punch the man in his throat. And I saw 2 dachsunds both on leads tied to the same tree celebrating Valentine's Day early (nudge nudge, wink wink...if you know what I mean). Way more interesting than the gym.
Well...I have work to do. Pacing and breathing work. I'll get there. Eventually.
I sounded pretty happy up there, didn't I? Yeah...don't let that fool you. It was a disaster.
On Saturday, I wanted to run but didn't really have time to drive to the gym and all. It was upwards of 40 degrees, so I thought, "It can't be that bad! I'll dress warm and run the 1.5 miles I've mapped out in the neighborhood...piece of cake! I'll be home in 30 minutes tops!"
I should know better than to get my hopes up about running outside.
I have a pretty horrid cold right now, but it was 40 degrees!! Noone told me that the wind was blowing like crazy, though. That doesn't help.
My sinuses almost instantly filled up with mucus causing me to breathe through my mouth...which irritated my already scratchy and raw throat. I tried to suck it up and breathe through my congested nose, but snot bubbles are never attractive.
My lungs burned after a quarter of a mile with the wind blowing directly in my face. My hands were numb (note to self: wear gloves if it's under 50 degrees). And I couldn't pace myself to save my life.
I ran half a mile and gave it up. I was exhausted. I think I ran that half mile in about 6 minutes. That would put me at a 12 minute mile and that shouldn't seem that far out of my grasp...but I couldn't focus on anything except my lack of ability to breathe. I'm officially a sissy.
I do have to say that it was quite amusing to run in the hood, though. I saw a kid shoveling snow out of his YARD and putting it into an open shop vac. I saw a couple in their driveway arguing like cats and dogs. I was pretty sure the woman was going to punch the man in his throat. And I saw 2 dachsunds both on leads tied to the same tree celebrating Valentine's Day early (nudge nudge, wink wink...if you know what I mean). Way more interesting than the gym.
Well...I have work to do. Pacing and breathing work. I'll get there. Eventually.
Friday, January 14, 2011
TMFYI Friday: Toddler Panties
How's THAT for a blog title?? I should get some sort of award or something..."Creepiest Blog Entry Title of All Time." Sounds good to me.
TMFYI stands for exactly what you think: Too Much For Your Information. Oh...you weren't thinking that? Sorry. The first installment of TMFYI can be viewed here. But read at your own discretion.
There are a couple of things that you should know before I proceed. 1.-I don't dress Jayna in the morning. My wonderful and helpful husband does. 2.-Sometimes Jayna likes to wear "big girl panties" over her pull up. 3.-I HATE the word "panties." Creepy in itself. I prefer underoos or undies. Even skivies is better. Just NOT panties. Ick. (That third one really doesn't have anything to do with the story. It was just an extra FYI.) 4.-Jayna's preschool/daycare only has 2 teachers, Megan and Tracey. There are only 15 kids, so 2 is enough. They are sisters-in-law and I love them both.
As usual, Chris dressed Jayna yesterday morning for school. I dropped her off, said goodbye and went about my merry way to work. After work I went to pick her up. When I walked in to get her, the first thing out of her mouth was, "Mommy! I have big girl panties on!!" I replied with, "Okay. But you have a pull up on too, right??" She simply said, "I have big girl panties on!!" Megan took a peek down the back of Jayna's pants and said to me, "Yes she has on both." And not having dressed my kid, I didn't find anything out of the ordinary. All was good.
So we drive the .5 miles to our house, walk in the house and here is the conversation that ensued:
Me: Jayna, take off your coat and boots and put them in the closet.
J: Okay, mommy...I want play dressup? I want my fancy dress.
Me: Okay. But first coat and boots.
(she takes her coat and boots off and immediately begins to strip down as you just CAN NOT wear regular clothes under your "fancy dress." I continue to bring stuff in from the car.)
Me: (just having walked in the front door to see a 2-year-old standing there in her "panties" and pull up holding her "fancy dress.") Ready for your fancy dress now?
J: Look at my new big girl panties mommy!!!! They have hearts on them!!!
Me: Um.....(quickly mentally searching toddler panty designs that we've purchased)....YOU DON'T HAVE ANY PANTIES WITH HEARTS ON THEM.
J: Yes I do. I got them at school.
Me: THOSE AREN'T YOUR PANTIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
J: Yes they are.
Me: NO THEY AREN'T. Take them off NOW and we'll put some of your own on.
I then proceeded to have a lengthy conversation with Jayna about wearing ONLY HER OWN PANTIES.
So she takes them off and we put on some of her own panties. And I thank the heavens that she had a pull up on under them. She then hands me the ones she had on and I have a mental conversation with myself about how I'll just throw them in the washer and take them back to school and have a 15 minute long lecture with Megan and Tracey about the fact that if there is ONE THING you should keep straight at a daycare, it's THE FREAKIN' PANTIES. So...I take them from her and look at the size to see if I can mentally picture who is the size of these panties at daycare to decide who they could possibly belong to. And as I'm checking the size, what do I see? Skidmarks.
Yes. You read that right. I'll type it again.....SKIDMARKS.
Another mental conversation: maybe they've been washed and they're stained in there because when you have a 2-year-old who's learning to use the potty, you don't immediately throw away a pair of underwear that have skidmarks stained in them. I put them in the washer and then Chris comes home and I leave the house without telling him the story. I didn't get home until around 9pm.
I told Chris the story when I came home and he asked me what I did with said undies. I told him I washed them and went to get them so I'd remember to take them to school. I searched through the pile of clean laundry and found them only to see that those skidmarks?? They were gone.
You read that right too. I'll type it again in plainer English....THE SKIDMARKS WERE FRESH AND CAME OUT AFTER ONLY ONE WASH.
I can't begin to tell you the disgust I was feeling at that time. GROSS. DISGUSTING. YUCK!!!!!!!!!
I took them to school this morning and told Megan what had happened. And I did say exactly what I said I was going to: "Megan, if there is one thing to keep straight, it's the panties." She promptly agreed and apologized 9 or 10 times. But then she said, "And I know exactly what happened."
WHAT??? What the hell?!? How could you possibly know EXACTLY how my kid ended up in someone else's panties??
Tracey opened yesterday. Megan didn't come in until 9am. When Megan got there, Tracey was frantically looking for Zoie's panties. She couldn't find them anywhere and called it a total loss. She went to Zoie's spare clothes bin and got a clean pair. And either A.-she accidentally, without thinking about it, put Zoie's underwear on Jayna or B.-MY KID IS A BIG PANTY THIEF AND TOOK THEM TO WEAR THEM ALL ON HER OWN.
Be afraid, people. Be very afraid. I'm apparently raising a panty thief. Or something.
TMFYI stands for exactly what you think: Too Much For Your Information. Oh...you weren't thinking that? Sorry. The first installment of TMFYI can be viewed here. But read at your own discretion.
There are a couple of things that you should know before I proceed. 1.-I don't dress Jayna in the morning. My wonderful and helpful husband does. 2.-Sometimes Jayna likes to wear "big girl panties" over her pull up. 3.-I HATE the word "panties." Creepy in itself. I prefer underoos or undies. Even skivies is better. Just NOT panties. Ick. (That third one really doesn't have anything to do with the story. It was just an extra FYI.) 4.-Jayna's preschool/daycare only has 2 teachers, Megan and Tracey. There are only 15 kids, so 2 is enough. They are sisters-in-law and I love them both.
As usual, Chris dressed Jayna yesterday morning for school. I dropped her off, said goodbye and went about my merry way to work. After work I went to pick her up. When I walked in to get her, the first thing out of her mouth was, "Mommy! I have big girl panties on!!" I replied with, "Okay. But you have a pull up on too, right??" She simply said, "I have big girl panties on!!" Megan took a peek down the back of Jayna's pants and said to me, "Yes she has on both." And not having dressed my kid, I didn't find anything out of the ordinary. All was good.
So we drive the .5 miles to our house, walk in the house and here is the conversation that ensued:
Me: Jayna, take off your coat and boots and put them in the closet.
J: Okay, mommy...I want play dressup? I want my fancy dress.
Me: Okay. But first coat and boots.
(she takes her coat and boots off and immediately begins to strip down as you just CAN NOT wear regular clothes under your "fancy dress." I continue to bring stuff in from the car.)
Me: (just having walked in the front door to see a 2-year-old standing there in her "panties" and pull up holding her "fancy dress.") Ready for your fancy dress now?
J: Look at my new big girl panties mommy!!!! They have hearts on them!!!
Me: Um.....(quickly mentally searching toddler panty designs that we've purchased)....YOU DON'T HAVE ANY PANTIES WITH HEARTS ON THEM.
J: Yes I do. I got them at school.
Me: THOSE AREN'T YOUR PANTIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
J: Yes they are.
Me: NO THEY AREN'T. Take them off NOW and we'll put some of your own on.
I then proceeded to have a lengthy conversation with Jayna about wearing ONLY HER OWN PANTIES.
So she takes them off and we put on some of her own panties. And I thank the heavens that she had a pull up on under them. She then hands me the ones she had on and I have a mental conversation with myself about how I'll just throw them in the washer and take them back to school and have a 15 minute long lecture with Megan and Tracey about the fact that if there is ONE THING you should keep straight at a daycare, it's THE FREAKIN' PANTIES. So...I take them from her and look at the size to see if I can mentally picture who is the size of these panties at daycare to decide who they could possibly belong to. And as I'm checking the size, what do I see? Skidmarks.
Yes. You read that right. I'll type it again.....SKIDMARKS.
Another mental conversation: maybe they've been washed and they're stained in there because when you have a 2-year-old who's learning to use the potty, you don't immediately throw away a pair of underwear that have skidmarks stained in them. I put them in the washer and then Chris comes home and I leave the house without telling him the story. I didn't get home until around 9pm.
I told Chris the story when I came home and he asked me what I did with said undies. I told him I washed them and went to get them so I'd remember to take them to school. I searched through the pile of clean laundry and found them only to see that those skidmarks?? They were gone.
You read that right too. I'll type it again in plainer English....THE SKIDMARKS WERE FRESH AND CAME OUT AFTER ONLY ONE WASH.
I can't begin to tell you the disgust I was feeling at that time. GROSS. DISGUSTING. YUCK!!!!!!!!!
I took them to school this morning and told Megan what had happened. And I did say exactly what I said I was going to: "Megan, if there is one thing to keep straight, it's the panties." She promptly agreed and apologized 9 or 10 times. But then she said, "And I know exactly what happened."
WHAT??? What the hell?!? How could you possibly know EXACTLY how my kid ended up in someone else's panties??
Tracey opened yesterday. Megan didn't come in until 9am. When Megan got there, Tracey was frantically looking for Zoie's panties. She couldn't find them anywhere and called it a total loss. She went to Zoie's spare clothes bin and got a clean pair. And either A.-she accidentally, without thinking about it, put Zoie's underwear on Jayna or B.-MY KID IS A BIG PANTY THIEF AND TOOK THEM TO WEAR THEM ALL ON HER OWN.
Be afraid, people. Be very afraid. I'm apparently raising a panty thief. Or something.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Five for Friday: At A Loss
Some weird and out of place things have happened to me in the last week. I don't....even know what to say. So:
- Chris and I began naming our baby before we even conceived a baby. We decided that we wanted to have a baby around Christmas time of 2007. We knew it would be atleast 6 months before we even tried, but we began talking about names shortly after Christmas of 2007. By mid-December of 2008, right around the time I found out I was pregnant, we had already decided on a girl's name. And that name was Jayna Madison. Neither one of us had ever known anyone with the name Jayna and we've met a very limited number of people who have known a Jayna. My grandmother is in town right now and told my mom just 3 days ago that "she named that baby" (that baby being my kid Jayna who was named before she was conceived). WHAT THE F#*^($%?????? How is that even POSSIBLE?? My grandmother is elderly, but I was SURE that she was still of sound mind. I guess not.
- I got fleas today at work. I know, right?? "But Danielle, you work in an office. How the hell did you get fleas??" Well, gentle reader, we have an extra warehouse to store things like, you know, carpet in that isn't in the greatest of shape. It is our opinion that there are several feral cats living in there although we rarely see them. Our warehouse guy (my brother) went to said extra warehouse today, picked up a carton of carpet tile and about 3 million (give or take) fleas jumped onto him. It should be said that my mom brings her dog to work with her. He is a small white bichon. The first thing my brother does, KNOWING THAT HE HAS FLEAS ON HIM, is come back to our office, come in the door and say, "I have fleas." They are now ALL OVER the dog and all over our office. They've been jumping on our ankles and shirts and things. The office is being bombed tonight. The dog is on flea medicine, so he'll be okay. But we still don't want our office OR OUR HOUSES infested with fleas. I HEART MY AWESOME JOB!!!
- I am The World's Greatest Procrastinator. I really should have a trophy. No, really. I should. I was up until 11:45pm putting together baby scrapbooks for a friend to give as a gift. Why do I do this to myself?? For those of you who don't know me well, I DON'T DO WELL ON LIMITED SLEEP. Napping is a hobby to me. I am definitely dragging ass today.
- My real estate teacher got fired. I haven't ever blogged about him before, but I should have. He was a giant douchebag. I don't use that word very often, but there is no other better fitting word in this situation. He constantly went off subject, told very crude jokes (that I always thought were funny IF WE WERE IN A BAR AND NOT AN INSTITUTION OF LEARNING), and offended everyone in the class to some degree. And then he'd say things like, "Well, I don't care if you learn it. I already have my license." Or, "I don't know why I'm wasting my time on you guys since most of you are going part time anyway." Or, "Oh, you're from Shelbyville? I'll talk slower." Or, "Jeff is pissed at me, but I don't care. What's he gonna do, fire me? Whatever, I own this place." Well, joke's on you, assclown!! Bazinga!!
- I can't focus on anything else right now because I seriously ITCH ALL OVER. I need a flea bath. Gross.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
TMI Tuesday
Yesterday I was unable to blog. Why, you ask? Well, because I was suffering a horrendous lower intestinal virus of some sort. I spent the better part of the day either in the bathroom or curled up in a ball on my couch because of the stomach cramping.
What did I want for Make It Mine Monday? A new stomach and lower intestine. Enough said.
I won't go into the fabulous details too much, but suffice it to say that Jayna also got this virus and had FIVE dirty diapers yesterday. And all she wanted to do was sit on the couch with us. There was no puking, just diarrhea. Horrible diarrhea. Which is why I've decided that it wasn't a stomach virus, but an intestinal one.
I seem to be fine today, but I was under the very strong impression yesterday that I was on the edge of death. I was also sick on Sunday, but I summed it up to eating bad food and drinking just a tad bit too much on Saturday night. Looks like I was wrong and I was really sick.
There you go. You've now had a good dose of "Things You Didn't Care To Know" regarding my intestines. Hope your day goes well!! :)
What did I want for Make It Mine Monday? A new stomach and lower intestine. Enough said.
I won't go into the fabulous details too much, but suffice it to say that Jayna also got this virus and had FIVE dirty diapers yesterday. And all she wanted to do was sit on the couch with us. There was no puking, just diarrhea. Horrible diarrhea. Which is why I've decided that it wasn't a stomach virus, but an intestinal one.
I seem to be fine today, but I was under the very strong impression yesterday that I was on the edge of death. I was also sick on Sunday, but I summed it up to eating bad food and drinking just a tad bit too much on Saturday night. Looks like I was wrong and I was really sick.
There you go. You've now had a good dose of "Things You Didn't Care To Know" regarding my intestines. Hope your day goes well!! :)
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Gray...
...gray and more GRAY!!
AAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I just can't take it anymore!
That's it. I'm moving to...well, anywhere but here. I've just had it with this crappy ass weather and gray skies and snow and slush and ice and ugliness...and dumbass drivers. I'm done.
Did I mention that I just can't take it anymore??
I do not hate winter. I do not hate any season. Winter may be my least favorite season, but I do not hate it. I don't mind the cold so much. I think snow is pretty, although I absolutely hate to drive in it because of OTHER drivers. I think of Christmas and snow days spent doing puzzles and eating junk food and a sort of human hibernation when I think of winter. And to me, those are good things. But I am completely OVER this particular winter.
It's been colder than average and we've gotten a ridiculous amount of snow in a short period of time. And we're going to get more. The sun has been out about 3 times in the past 2 months. Stupid weather.
I don't feel that I'm mentally affected a great deal by the winter. I do love sunlight and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and good inside. And the sun DOES come out in the winter. Just not this particular winter. I just can't deal with the gray. Everyday the sky is gray. It's gray and ugly. And depressing. And I want to go to bed just thinking about it. Blah.
The best I can do right now is think of all the awesomeness that is going to ensue when this weather breaks. I have a little girl who is absolutely itching to play outside. And that is what we'll do. When the sun comes out and all this snow melts. You know, sometime in May.
AAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I just can't take it anymore!
That's it. I'm moving to...well, anywhere but here. I've just had it with this crappy ass weather and gray skies and snow and slush and ice and ugliness...and dumbass drivers. I'm done.
Did I mention that I just can't take it anymore??
I do not hate winter. I do not hate any season. Winter may be my least favorite season, but I do not hate it. I don't mind the cold so much. I think snow is pretty, although I absolutely hate to drive in it because of OTHER drivers. I think of Christmas and snow days spent doing puzzles and eating junk food and a sort of human hibernation when I think of winter. And to me, those are good things. But I am completely OVER this particular winter.
It's been colder than average and we've gotten a ridiculous amount of snow in a short period of time. And we're going to get more. The sun has been out about 3 times in the past 2 months. Stupid weather.
I don't feel that I'm mentally affected a great deal by the winter. I do love sunlight and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and good inside. And the sun DOES come out in the winter. Just not this particular winter. I just can't deal with the gray. Everyday the sky is gray. It's gray and ugly. And depressing. And I want to go to bed just thinking about it. Blah.
The best I can do right now is think of all the awesomeness that is going to ensue when this weather breaks. I have a little girl who is absolutely itching to play outside. And that is what we'll do. When the sun comes out and all this snow melts. You know, sometime in May.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Five for Friday: Sick and Weird
I am strange. This is no mystery to the people who know me. I am currently sick with a horrendous cold and a sinus infection. Here are a few strange things relating to me being sick from the past few days:
- I have a sinus infection. I have to blow my nose approximately once every 17 seconds. My nose is on fire. It hurts. It's raw. So yesterday I bought a tube of chapstick that is designated for my nose. I have nose chapstick and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Well, maybe a little.
- Cough drops make my burp. Alot. It's a little disturbing.
- Everytime I'm sick, I have a very intense craving for hot dogs. Yuck. I really, really hate hot dogs.
- How exactly do you blow your nose in the shower? I sneezed in the shower last night and was completely disgusted. And the piece of toilet paper I tried to use to blow my nose just stuck to my hands and then washed down the drain, hence making it useless. I'm not a fan of blowing my nose in my hand...
- I contemplated letting Jayna eat Goldfish crackers for dinner last night because I felt too crappy to deal with it. Note: she did NOT really have crackers for dinner. She had frozen pizza. Judge me if you must.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Life is just what happens to you...
...while your busy making other plans.
This is what happens to me. I have ambitions. I have plans. I have...hell, I just have things that need to be done. And it just doesn't. Get. Done. What the hell, dude?!?
What happened? Well, John Lennon tells me that LIFE happened. And I've always taken him at his word before. So I guess I will now too. So here we go, in list form yet again:
The Little Chatterbox
Jayna has learned to talk. She now has an arsenal of words (maybe 25) under her belt that she says often and a few others that she's working on. This all began on Saturday and she's just taken off with it from there. She can now distinguish between our two dogs. She used to call them both collectively "Moe." But now little Ollie finally has a name!! That name? Lollie. Ha.
The most awesome thing is when we put her to bed at night, she now says, "Love you!" It's the cutest daggone thing that has ever happened to me. Except for what happened this morning. When I dropped her off at Summer's, she took my hand and led me to the front door. I thought she was basically telling me to leave. But then she closed the door and hugged me. I told her, "Love you, Jayna." and she turned away from me. I said, "Bye bye." and she began to fuss and cry. She was trying to get me to stay. Everytime I would stand up to leave, she'd fuss. It was sad and cute at the same time.
And I almost stayed. Almost. But that sets a precedent and I need money and therefore cannot afford to stay home everytime she says so.
Death is Near
I have the worst cold I've had since before my kid was born. It totally sucks. I've had it since Saturday, but it didn't get too bad until Sunday night. Monday was horrible, but Tuesday got a little better. And now Wednesday is worse than Monday. Yeah...diagram that paragraph, Mrs. Rhinesmith.
It is incredibly inconvenient to be sick when you have a young child. I have three options when I'm sick...none of which I like. I could just take Jayna to Summer's and go to work like always. I could take Jayna to Summer's and then drive back home. Or I could keep Jayna at home with me. So...while I like staying home and keeping the kid with me, it isn't really conducive to me being sick which leads me to just take her to Summer's and go to work. Because if I'm well enough to be at home with her all day, I should be well enough to go to work. I could take her and go back home, but I'm already 75% of the way to work anyway and I'm already out of bed and moving. So it's really just easier to get up and go to work. Yuck. That's a stupid option.
Let's Get Busy
January has been a pretty low key month. Not alot of obligations. I've loved it. But I'm not really sure what to do with myself. February and March hold more promise for keeping busy. This weekend I have knitting class and a birthday party and the Superbowl. Next weekend I have something planned for Friday night. In March I'll be having a Stella and Dot party and a scrapbooking day. Yay for having things to do!! I also need to schedule a playdate with Troy, Katie and Tucker and then I need to find out if Katy M. and Michelle R. are available for dinner some weekend in the next couple of months. I'm tired just thinking about it.
I Double Dog Dare You
When I was younger (you know, early- to mid-twenties), I dyed my hair all sorts of weird colors. At one point it had streaks of blue, pink, purple, red and blond. I worked for a summer camp at the time and the kids affectionately named me Rainbow Brite (with the help of my fellow counselors I'm sure, as kids that young shouldn't know who Rainbow Brite is). I did this with no problem. I am now contemplating dying my hair red (for real red...but only semi-permanent, like through 28 shampoos or something) and I am...scared. What happened to me? Did I get old? Come on, faithful readers. It's now your chance to tell me I'm not old.
What are y'all up to??
This is what happens to me. I have ambitions. I have plans. I have...hell, I just have things that need to be done. And it just doesn't. Get. Done. What the hell, dude?!?
What happened? Well, John Lennon tells me that LIFE happened. And I've always taken him at his word before. So I guess I will now too. So here we go, in list form yet again:
The Little Chatterbox
Jayna has learned to talk. She now has an arsenal of words (maybe 25) under her belt that she says often and a few others that she's working on. This all began on Saturday and she's just taken off with it from there. She can now distinguish between our two dogs. She used to call them both collectively "Moe." But now little Ollie finally has a name!! That name? Lollie. Ha.
The most awesome thing is when we put her to bed at night, she now says, "Love you!" It's the cutest daggone thing that has ever happened to me. Except for what happened this morning. When I dropped her off at Summer's, she took my hand and led me to the front door. I thought she was basically telling me to leave. But then she closed the door and hugged me. I told her, "Love you, Jayna." and she turned away from me. I said, "Bye bye." and she began to fuss and cry. She was trying to get me to stay. Everytime I would stand up to leave, she'd fuss. It was sad and cute at the same time.
And I almost stayed. Almost. But that sets a precedent and I need money and therefore cannot afford to stay home everytime she says so.
Death is Near
I have the worst cold I've had since before my kid was born. It totally sucks. I've had it since Saturday, but it didn't get too bad until Sunday night. Monday was horrible, but Tuesday got a little better. And now Wednesday is worse than Monday. Yeah...diagram that paragraph, Mrs. Rhinesmith.
It is incredibly inconvenient to be sick when you have a young child. I have three options when I'm sick...none of which I like. I could just take Jayna to Summer's and go to work like always. I could take Jayna to Summer's and then drive back home. Or I could keep Jayna at home with me. So...while I like staying home and keeping the kid with me, it isn't really conducive to me being sick which leads me to just take her to Summer's and go to work. Because if I'm well enough to be at home with her all day, I should be well enough to go to work. I could take her and go back home, but I'm already 75% of the way to work anyway and I'm already out of bed and moving. So it's really just easier to get up and go to work. Yuck. That's a stupid option.
Let's Get Busy
January has been a pretty low key month. Not alot of obligations. I've loved it. But I'm not really sure what to do with myself. February and March hold more promise for keeping busy. This weekend I have knitting class and a birthday party and the Superbowl. Next weekend I have something planned for Friday night. In March I'll be having a Stella and Dot party and a scrapbooking day. Yay for having things to do!! I also need to schedule a playdate with Troy, Katie and Tucker and then I need to find out if Katy M. and Michelle R. are available for dinner some weekend in the next couple of months. I'm tired just thinking about it.
I Double Dog Dare You
When I was younger (you know, early- to mid-twenties), I dyed my hair all sorts of weird colors. At one point it had streaks of blue, pink, purple, red and blond. I worked for a summer camp at the time and the kids affectionately named me Rainbow Brite (with the help of my fellow counselors I'm sure, as kids that young shouldn't know who Rainbow Brite is). I did this with no problem. I am now contemplating dying my hair red (for real red...but only semi-permanent, like through 28 shampoos or something) and I am...scared. What happened to me? Did I get old? Come on, faithful readers. It's now your chance to tell me I'm not old.
What are y'all up to??
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
The Thanksgiving That Wasn't
I took a total of three pictures on Thanksgiving. And none of them are of actual Thanksgiving. Go figure.
I took one of Jayna and Chris chillin' on the couch in the early morning hours and two of Jayna completely zonked out in the car on the way home. Truthfully, the zonked out picture says it all.
Thanksgiving seemed a little strange to me this year. Maybe it was because I felt like hell. I had a mega-cold and sneezed probably 35 times (not exaggerating) before we even left our house. Maybe it was because we had the time constraint of a growing 15-month-old. She took a 2 hour nap on Thursday morning and we though she'd be good until 5 or so. Nope. She was ready for a nap at around 2:30pm. Why was she so sleepy? That part comes next...I think.
On Thanksgiving day and the day after, Jayna had about 10 dirty diapers...diarrhea. Fun times. Poor kid. Her belly troubles began before she even ate Thanksgiving dinner, but we just thought the ravioli from Wednesday night didn't agree with her. We were apparently wrong. Some ravioli doesn't cause severe diarrhea. She also woke up quite a few times that night.
At around 10:00pm, I was in the same boat as Jayna. Virus much? So I slept about 2.5 hours Thanksgiving night. Chris' parents came over to our house that night instead of us going over there...and good thing. We probably would've run out of diapers at their house. And besides that I really felt like dying. I haven't had a cold this bad in a LONG time. I just want to sleep.
So all in all, I just didn't feel the Thanksgiving spirit this year. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday...mostly because the only expectations are to eat too much and to make enough to have leftovers for a week. But this year it just didn't seem so. Christmas is right around the corner, so we'll try again.
How did y'all fare this Turkey Day??
I took one of Jayna and Chris chillin' on the couch in the early morning hours and two of Jayna completely zonked out in the car on the way home. Truthfully, the zonked out picture says it all.
Thanksgiving seemed a little strange to me this year. Maybe it was because I felt like hell. I had a mega-cold and sneezed probably 35 times (not exaggerating) before we even left our house. Maybe it was because we had the time constraint of a growing 15-month-old. She took a 2 hour nap on Thursday morning and we though she'd be good until 5 or so. Nope. She was ready for a nap at around 2:30pm. Why was she so sleepy? That part comes next...I think.
On Thanksgiving day and the day after, Jayna had about 10 dirty diapers...diarrhea. Fun times. Poor kid. Her belly troubles began before she even ate Thanksgiving dinner, but we just thought the ravioli from Wednesday night didn't agree with her. We were apparently wrong. Some ravioli doesn't cause severe diarrhea. She also woke up quite a few times that night.
At around 10:00pm, I was in the same boat as Jayna. Virus much? So I slept about 2.5 hours Thanksgiving night. Chris' parents came over to our house that night instead of us going over there...and good thing. We probably would've run out of diapers at their house. And besides that I really felt like dying. I haven't had a cold this bad in a LONG time. I just want to sleep.
So all in all, I just didn't feel the Thanksgiving spirit this year. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday...mostly because the only expectations are to eat too much and to make enough to have leftovers for a week. But this year it just didn't seem so. Christmas is right around the corner, so we'll try again.
How did y'all fare this Turkey Day??
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
ENOUGH with the poop!!
Interesting title, huh? Jayna, until very recently, was not a very frequent pooper. She was of course breastfed and breastfed babies often only have one or two dirty diapers per week. The first time she went 8 days without a dirty diaper I got nervous. I called the doctor. They said she was fine. And I now long for those days.
Don't get me wrong here...I don't actually change many diapers. I change maybe 3 diapers a day at the most. Summer changes her diapers during the day and Chris, bless his soul, changes most of Jayna's diapers in the evenings and on weekends. Since Jayna has started formula, her dirty diapers have become gradually more frequent...and it's not the easy-to-clean dirty diapers like when she was exclusively breastfed. It's the classic baby poop paste that sticks to everything and smells like something died. YUCK!!
Last Friday I ran errands leaving Chris and Jayna at home. When I returned 3 hours later, Chris held Jayna up to me and said, "Mommy, I have a nice surprise for you!" I've never seen that much nastiness come out of such a sweet little girl! Fifteen wipes and 10 minutes later I had a clean Jayna again. On Monday, she did the same thing to Summer.
Last night she was in her exersaucer (GREATEST INVENTION EVER) while we were eating dinner and she was being so quiet. I said to Chris, "I think she's pooping." Well, I didn't smell anything and she wasn't fussing, so I left her. I got in the shower and just as I was drying off, I heard Chris yell, "Danielle!! HELP!!!" So, I went to Jayna's room wearing a towel and freezing my ass off and saw the most poop I've ever seen...all over Jayna, including her hand, and some on Chris. She had pooped while she was in her exersaucer and it shot straight up her back...almost to her neck. While Chris was wiping her, she got curious and put her hand down there. And where do a 4-month-old's hands go?? Yep, directly to her mouth. Chris was afraid she was going to put her hand in her mouth, so he was holding her legs with one hand and her hand with the other...it was a mess. I had to pick her up off of the changing table so Chris could wipe her back. She went STRAIGHT to the bath after that.
This morning I called Summer to see how things were going and guess what? Jayna did it again...while she was in her jumper. Straight up the back. Summer had to wash her and wash her clothes.
I suppose the formula is catching up with Jayna's digestive system. We have hit the 50% mark with the formula...I guess that was the breaking point. I can't wait to see what happens when she starts eating solid food...
Don't get me wrong here...I don't actually change many diapers. I change maybe 3 diapers a day at the most. Summer changes her diapers during the day and Chris, bless his soul, changes most of Jayna's diapers in the evenings and on weekends. Since Jayna has started formula, her dirty diapers have become gradually more frequent...and it's not the easy-to-clean dirty diapers like when she was exclusively breastfed. It's the classic baby poop paste that sticks to everything and smells like something died. YUCK!!
Last Friday I ran errands leaving Chris and Jayna at home. When I returned 3 hours later, Chris held Jayna up to me and said, "Mommy, I have a nice surprise for you!" I've never seen that much nastiness come out of such a sweet little girl! Fifteen wipes and 10 minutes later I had a clean Jayna again. On Monday, she did the same thing to Summer.
Last night she was in her exersaucer (GREATEST INVENTION EVER) while we were eating dinner and she was being so quiet. I said to Chris, "I think she's pooping." Well, I didn't smell anything and she wasn't fussing, so I left her. I got in the shower and just as I was drying off, I heard Chris yell, "Danielle!! HELP!!!" So, I went to Jayna's room wearing a towel and freezing my ass off and saw the most poop I've ever seen...all over Jayna, including her hand, and some on Chris. She had pooped while she was in her exersaucer and it shot straight up her back...almost to her neck. While Chris was wiping her, she got curious and put her hand down there. And where do a 4-month-old's hands go?? Yep, directly to her mouth. Chris was afraid she was going to put her hand in her mouth, so he was holding her legs with one hand and her hand with the other...it was a mess. I had to pick her up off of the changing table so Chris could wipe her back. She went STRAIGHT to the bath after that.
This morning I called Summer to see how things were going and guess what? Jayna did it again...while she was in her jumper. Straight up the back. Summer had to wash her and wash her clothes.
I suppose the formula is catching up with Jayna's digestive system. We have hit the 50% mark with the formula...I guess that was the breaking point. I can't wait to see what happens when she starts eating solid food...
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