Workin' for a Livin'

Dudes!!!  Hey!!  I am indeed alive and well...and missing you. 

I have officially missed 4 Together on Tuesday topics.  But I'm not here to write one of those.  I'm here because...well, I sort of got lost. 

I lost what was important in life.  I lost my reasons for blogging.  I lost...I just got lost. That is all.

I don't talk about my job here.  Ever.  Okay, okay...occasionally I'll admit that I hate it (read: frustrated, I don't really hate it) and that I do have downtime.  That downtime is becoming more and more precious.  Soon, it will be non-existent, I'm sure.  So I don't really talk about work, but I'm going to focus on that for a moment.

I've been going through some changes at work and it had actually started to bleed over into my personal life...until last week.  I finished up a giant project last Tuesday evening.  And now that the actual WORK itself isn't bleeding over, the stress and unknown factors of the future and the excitement (?) and the anxiety is still doing just that...TAKING OVER MY PERSONAL LIFE.

I know this happens to many of you all often.  It does NOT, however, happen to me.  But things are changing and I must step up to the plate and accept, embrace and move along with these changes.  Within all of this, I am now training a new person to take my position...for when I take my mom's position...when she retires in 18 months.  That SOUNDS like a long time.  It isn't.  Trust me, friends.  I wear many different hats around there, as does she, and it will take all of 18 months to show and teach someone everything I do. 

So, in the figurative sense, I'm moving up.  But in the literal sense, I'm moving OVER.  I already know most of what my mom does.  And although I've sort of carved out and created my own position here, I have kept up with most things she does throughout my years here.  I am learning the things I don't know and refreshing my mind of the things I do know, but don't do often.  It's been a learning curve for me (because I'm learning new things AND teaching someone my job), for mom (because she has to teach me things), and for our newest victim assistant (because she's learning a hell of a lot of things already).

And I'll admit to y'all RIGHTNOW:  I'm anxious.  I'd even go so far as to say that I'm...gulp...SCARED. 

This will be a giant move for me in the area of responsibility.  Most things won't really change as far as what I do on a daily basis, but her job encompasses more responsibility than I've ever had in my entire life.  I won't have the "assistant" role anymore.  I won't be able to pass the phone to her when I don't know the answer.  I will be the one responsible for those answers.  And I'm am VERY slowly coming to terms with that.

Much to my surprise, this reality has taken it's toll on my mental capacities.  I haven't had much time to sit down and THINK of things to write.  I like to take my time at formulating blog entries.  I haven't even really had time to return emails or Facebook messages.  I keep up with the people and things that force me (and believe me, I AM NOT COMPLAINING ABOUT THAT), but the people and things that don't have very unfortunately gotten pushed to the side.  And trust me when I say that I feel horrible about that.

You can't blame a sister for getting lost though, can you?

I'll be back soon with several more updates.  Hell,  my only child turned 4 over 2 months ago and I haven't blogged about it.  After I write what I feel needs to be written about my life itself, I'll get back on the ToT wagon.  I DO plan on making up my 4 missed entries.  Because I'm awesome. :)

And I'll leave you with this:

Ollie in a Brave wig.

Deuce (my mom's dog) in eyeball glasses.

 

That's what we do for laughs, y'all. :)

 

 

Five for Friday: Funny Fits

Jayna is back to throwing some kick ass tantrums.  I thought we'd gotten past the worst of the actual "tantrum" and were moving into the sassiness and the smart ass phase.  Turns out she just found a way to combine the two, forcing me to actually LOSE MY COOL.

I occasionally raise my voice.  I don't call it yelling because I don't actually yell.  I turn on the "mom voice."  You should all know what I'm talking about because you all either have a mom or a mom figure or are a mom.  I get slightly louder and way more stern.  And that voice alone gets a reaction from the kid.  Mind you, that reaction is most often the beginning of a fit.  The beginning of a fit for her is to crunch her face up, start to cry, and make the crying noise...loudly.  This is her way of saying, "Hey...I know you're mad at me and I'm pretty pissed about that."

Atleast in my mind that's what she says.

I get this reaction ALL. THE. TIME.  Everytime.  Without fail.  At first I tried to work through it with her.  Now?  After an entire 6 months of it?  STRAIGHT to time out.  No passing go.  No 200 bucks.  Just straight to the time out chair.

Yeah...ask me how that's going.

At first this worked outstandingly.  She'd get up in the time out chair and serve her 3 minutes.  Notsomuch anymore.

I now have to physically PUT her in time out.  That automatically earns her an additional minute.  After I put her in time out, she then proceeds to scream and kick and hit and spit...you name it, she's probably done it.

Her minutes don't start until her fit is over and she is silent.  Within the last 2 weeks, that's started taking about 30 minutes.  Unless I get really pissed or we have to leave at a scheduled time.  And then I'll drag her little butt all over that house and MAKE her do things while she's throwing a fit and then put her in the car and tell her she's still in time out.

It works for now, but I'm sure that won't last long.

So...here are 5 hilarious things that have happened regarding Jayna fits within the past few weeks:

• Last week she got put in time out for throwing a fit and then hitting me.  She never actually hits me hard...it's more like a swat to show disapproval of what I'm saying.  I told her that she can NOT hit me. It's a no no.  She then jumped out of the time out chair, ran over to me and hit me again, and then ran back to the time out chair.  I...had NO idea what to say or do.
• During that SAME time out, she hit me a total of 3 times.  I smacked her on her butt.  Later that night, she threw a fit when getting out of the bath.  I dropped the towel, got on my knees, grabbed her shoulders and made her look me in the eye.  She then jerked away from me, smacked herself on her bottom and said, "Just spank me, mommy!!!"  Yeah...no.  She's going to have to take responsibility for her actions.  The ADULT way.
• Wednesday morning she had a doctor's appointment (I'll write about that in the upcoming 3 Years Old post), so we were at home until around 8:45am.  About 30 minutes before it was time to go, she started a fit.  I put her in time out.  She started screaming this at the top of her lungs: "I DON'T LIKE YOU MOMMY!  TOMORROW I TRYING TO GET MARRIED AND YOU GONNA BE SOOOO MAD AT ME!!!"  What the hell?!?  I stood in the next room laughing my ass off.  Where does she get this junk?
• That morning fit lasted around 20 minutes.  We were going to be late for the doctor, so I picked her up, kicking and screaming, out of time out and took her to the bathroom to force her to brush her teeth.  (And on a related note...do you know how difficult it is to brush a kid's teeth when they're screaming and kicking and crying? It ain't no walk in the park, I'm tellin' ya.)  After I was done, she started on the "trying to get married" stint.  I cut her off and said, "You know, if you keep yelling like that, no one will want to marry you.  Do you think daddy would still want to be married to mommy if I yelled at him like you're yelling at me?  I don't think so."  She was stunned and VERY confused.  But it made her stop and she legitimately THOUGHT about what she was doing.  And she stopped all together after that.  And NO...I'm NOT proud of that moment.  But when it was happening, short of actually hurting the kid, I would've done almost anything just to get her to stop yelling.
• During a different fit, I put her in time out and she took her fingernails and scratched down both of her arms.  She said, "I gonna scratch myself mommy!!!!"  I can only assume she was trying to get me to sympathize and baby her because she hurt herself.  I just said, "That's silly, Jayna.  Why would you want to hurt yourself?"  Again, she was completely stunned.  She had no idea what to say and then sat for her minutes and was done.
• One of her favorite things to randomly yell at me when she's in time out, no matter what I say or don't say, is, "I DON'T CARE MOMMY!"  I turned the tables on her yesterday and told her, "Okay...well, fine.  Then I don't care either."  And I left the room.  She then told me after time out, "Mommy...my feelings hurt really bad."  (Not they ARE hurt...just that they hurt.  That's cute to me. :) )  When I asked her why, she told me, "Because you said you don't care about me."  Now remember...I didn't ever say, "I don't care about YOU."  I just said that I didn't care either.  When I pointed out to her that she told me she didn't care about 85 times, her response was, "But mommy...I didn't say I didn't care about YOU.  I just said I didn't care about....."  And she never finished.  We ALWAYS assure her after her time outs that we still do and always will love her, but that her fits make us unhappy and hurt our feelings.  I'm not sure why she thought I said I didn't care about her.

I shouldn't wonder why I recently had to start coloring my hair again.  I'll probably have a full head of gray hair by the time I'm 35 at this rate.  Oy.

So parents...what do YOU do about screaming fits?  Do you ignore?  Take things away?  Spank?

I am mostly against spanking.  She's gotten a few smacks on the bottom, but it isn't something I use everyday or even every month...and it will eventually stop working.  Currently, we do time out beginning when the fit ends, we ignore her when she's screaming and throwing a fit, we take away toys and priveleges (yesterday she lost television, dressup clothes and her tea set...some of her favorite things) and we make her tell us what she did and what the consequence is.  She REALLY  hates that last part.  And I'll keep making her do it because I want her to learn to take responsibility for her actions, good or bad.

I'd love to hear your feedback.  If you don't hear back from me for awhile, contact your local looney bin. :)

Motormouth Monday: Will she ever shut up?!?

I used to live for blogging.  It must be the writer in me.  Now I seem to just blog about living.  It seems I'm always just doing a bulleted list of updates or I only blog when something extreme happens...you know, extremely frustrating, extremely funny or extremely interesting.
But there are those times when I just write because I haven't written for awhile.  Most of the time, those end up being the my favorite posts. 

Sometimes I write about milestones.  Like learning to walk, learning to jump, learning to potty on the potty.  Learning to curse. 

Yep.  You read it right.  Learning to curse.  That's a fairly new one.  Jayna likes to insert "hell" into her sentences.  Like last week when she couldn't find her bracelet and asked rhetorically, "Where the hell did I put my bracelet?" 

I want to laugh and scold at the same time.  My theory on children cursing (opinion formulated from experience) is that the more attention I give said cursing, the more she'll do it.  Of course at this point she only does this at home.  I may change my mind when she screams out the F bomb in the middle of the mall.  We do NOT curse at our house when Jayna is there.  If we do, it's a very intense situation and we apologize for using curse words.  I also make her apologize for cursing, but I don't put her in time out or scold her heavily.  I just say, "That's a no-no word.  Say you're sorry and don't say it anymore."

She was bound to learn.  That's just how the world works.

Our most recent milestone is what I'd like to refer to as the "motormouth" milestone. 

That kid NEVER shuts up.  Seriously.

Here is one of her rants from this morning:

Me:  Jayna, it's time to brush your teeth and put up your hair.
Jayna:  Okay, mommy.  After I brush my teeth and get my hair in a bow, can I play in my room?  I think I wanna play doll house.  Or maybe read my fairy book.  But first I brush my teeth.  Can you not set the timer today, mommy?  You can just tell me when it's time to go instead of setting the timer.  I won't throw a fit.  MOMMY!!!  I LOVE YOUR SHIRT!  LOOK...IT MATCHES MY DRESS!!!!!  THEY'RE BOTH BLUE!  I wanna play doll house.  I love you, mommy.  Can I wear flip flops today?  But if it's raining I'll have to wear a jacket.

Oh. My. Lord. 

If I ran all that together without spaces, it would be a way better illustration of how this kid works.  She does NOT stop talking.  She doesn't even give me a chance to answer her questions.

We were 10 minutes late to school this morning due to the fact that she wouldn't stop talking and asking questions and GET IN THE FREAKIN' CAR. 

Here is that rant (as we were walking out the door):

Me:  Let's get in the car, Jaynie.  It's time to go.
Jayna:  Mommy!!  It's raining!!  LOOK!!!  The flowers are growing!  Is it raining because the flowers are growing?  Noooooo, mommy.  That's silly.  The flowers are growing because they got rained on.  Those are growing too!!  LOOOOOK MOMMY!!!!  ALL the flowers are growing!!  And the grass.  Is that bird growing, mommy?  My flip flops will get wet if I walk in the grass.  I will go the long way around the car so my flip flops stay dry.  Can I take my bracelet into school?  No, I will just leave it in the car and get it after school.  Can I watch George after school?  MOMMY!!!  We're going to the grocery after school.  Are we going to the grocery after school?  Is daddy going? Can we...
Me:  GET IN THE CAR.  WE'RE LATE!!!

After I typed that, I sighed very heavily.  And that about sums it up. 

I LOVE that she's observing the world around her and correcting her own logic mistakes and using her curiosity and rationale and answering her own questions.  I absolutely love it. 

You know what else I'd love?  If she'd learn to multi-task.  As in talk while walking to the car instead of STANDING STILL UNTIL I HAVE TO CUT HER OFF AND DRAG HER THERE.

It's like when a dog gets on a scent trail.  Nothing matters except that trail.  That's Jayna with her little rants.  And unlike when she just asks me a single question and will continue asking the question OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN until I answer her (even if it's only a couple of seconds delay), she doesn't care if her questions are answered when she gets on one of these rants.

It's actually quite hilarious.

When I don't have anywhere to be, I just let her go.  I don't urge her to do other things or answer her questions myself.  I love just listening to where her mind takes her.  I call it "embracing her creativity." 

I kind of want her to stay this age.  For a LONG time.  I will really miss 3 years old.

Three-Year-Olds: A New Breed

As a mother of a 3-year-old (I am fully aware that she isn't 3 yet.  It's just way easier to say that than almost-3-year-old), I know that I'm in for it. 

And by "it" I mean that my patience will be tried.  My will will be tested.  My persistence will be pushed to the limit.  And my sanity?  Well, that's long gone anyway.

A very common phrase in my parenting vocabulary is, and I quote, "Fine. I don't care.  Do whatever you want."  This is usually the context:

Jayna:  Mommy, can I go outside?
Me:  Sure, put on your flops.
Jayna:  I don't want to wear shoes.  It's summer anyway.  It's warm.
Me:  I don't want you to hurt your feet when you try to stop the swing.
Jayna:  I won't.  I don't want to wear shoes.
Me:  Put your shoes on!!  I'm the adult.  You aren't.  Put your shoes on.
Jayna:  But mommy, I don't like shoes all the time.
Me:  Fine.  I don't care.  Do whatever you want.

I'm slowly learning that I should choose my battles more wisely. 

I spent approximately 8 years of my childhood, give or take, shoeless.  So, really...who cares?  Me.  I do.  In the spirit of trying to be a responsible parent.  But in the process of the spirit of being a responsible parent (diagram THAT, Ms. Rhinesmith), I am in essence calling my parents irresponsible.  And, regardless if they were or not, I turned out okay.  And the fact that Jayna never wants to wear shoes probably won't prevent her from going to Harvard.  Or from joining the circus.  Probably one more than the other, but I'll support her either way.

This entire blog entry started out with a digression.  It's how I roll.

My long-winded point of the above example is that I know I'm in for it. 

I just didn't know just HOW "in" for "it" I was. 

Of course, there was no way of knowing that.  I guess I could've listened to my parents when they tried to warn me.  And I *almost* didn't smile when I typed that.

What it comes down to is that 3 years old comes with a whole new set of issues.  We're past the weaning of the boob/bottle.  We're past the sleeping in a crib.  We're past the potty training.  And we're on to more advanced con-artist techniques.  More sneaky "anti-truths."  More fluttering of those gorgeous little eyelashes  More elephant tears.  More hugging of the leg and "I love you, mommy." 

She's becoming me.

I mean me when I was little.  She isn't nearly as advanced as I am now.  And hopefully I can thwart that somehow until she moves out and is on her own.  In my dreams, I'm thinking.

She is sassy.  She uses my own words against me.  She repeats all of my favorite phrases and uses them in the correct context.  She thinks she's a mom.  Of me.  And that shit doesn't fly.

Jayna:  I don't want to brush my teeth!!
Me:  Too bad!! We brush our teeth EVERY morning.  Let's go.  We don't want to be late.
Jayna:  I don't want to!!
Me:  I don't care!  Let's go.
Jayna:  No, mommy...I DON'T CARE!!! Don't say 'I don't care' to me.  If you say that to me again, you get a time out.
Me:  Well, you just earned yourself a time out for sassing.  Go to the time out chair.
Jayna:  I don't have to go to time out if I don't want to.
Me:  Now you get 2 time outs.
Jayna:  I don't care!!!  If we're late for school, you're in trouble mommy!!!  No television!

Speechless.  She renders me speechless.  Partly because she's using my only act as her own.  And partly because if I speak, laughter will spill out of me.  It really is so funny and frustrating at the same time.

All of that brought me to this story:

Last week, our baby monitor broke.  I refuse to buy a new one seeing as how Jayna is 3 and we have no plans of having more children.  What I didn't realize was just how dependent I was upon that baby monitor.

Okay, I DID realize it.  I did.  And that's why I still kept it.  Because I love to hear her sing herself to sleep.  Call me a sap.

But, in my defense, she was apparently dependent upon it also.  She found comfort that we could hear her if she needed something.  And she no longer has that.

At first, we just didn't tell her that it broke.  We just listened for her with our ears (and in our TINY house that isn't hard) and went from there.  Well, Monday night, Chris and I spent some time outside after Jayna went to bed. 

And then pandamonium ensued.

I went in to get a drink and heard Jayna crying.  I went to her room and asked what was wrong.  She had to potty.  So we went potty.  I asked her how long she'd been crying...she said "a long time."  I felt bad because she did look as though she had been crying for some time.  As she was going potty, I told her that the baby monitor broke and that Chris and I couldn't hear her anymore if we were outside or in certain places in the house.  I told her that if she needed to go potty that she had to get up, come out of her room and find one of us.  Easy enough.

**WRONG ANSWER!!!!  Sorry..."Toooooooo Easy" was what we were looking for.  Your consolation prize is waiting for you:  An undisclosed amount of nights of the 3-year-old getting out of her bed  no less than 80 times in a given night at various times allowing you NO free time after she goes to bed.**

How is that a consolation??  Yeah...it isn't.

I put her back in bed.  I picked up the phone and dialed it.  I said, "Hi...."  and then I turned around.  There she was...just standing behind me.  "I'll call you back."

I looked at Jayna and said, "What do you need?"  She responded with, "Umm...I...uhh....have to potty?"  And put her hands in the air and shrugged her shoulders.

Potty, my ass.  She just had to test my "get up, come out of your room and find me" theory.

I put her back in bed and explained to her that she couldn't just get up whenever she wanted to for whatever reason.  My words:  "If you get out of your bed and come find me, it has to be for a good reason...like you have to potty.  You can't just get up whenever you want.  It's bedtime."

She got up one more time after that and then went to sleep.  I was just SURE that I disarmed the situation.

Wow...I'm 2 for 2 on the wrong answers.  I have so much faith in myself as a parent. 

Yesterday was a challenge.  The whole day.  She was okay in the morning aside from one small fit that was ignored.  And she stopped.

I'm starting to think that ignoring the kid is the way to go.  If I ignore her, she stops doing what I want her to stop doing. 

"But you can't just ignore you kid all the time, lady.  I think there's a name for that...and it is 'neglect.'"

But what if I promise to only ignore her when she's being A CRAZED LUNATIC.  Will that be okay?  Yes it will.  I think that's what I'm supposed to do when she throws a fit anyway.  It'll be nice to try doing something the "right" way for once.

So last night was horrible.  It started with a heated argument and fit in the car.  She got a time out for sassing and what I believe to be cursing at me.  It was said through lots of tears, but it sure did sound like she said, "What the hell you say to me, mommy?"  I let that slide based on the fact that she had already gotten a time out.

By the time we got to dinner time, she'd had 3 time outs and gotten television taken away.  That, my friends, is unheard of for Miss Jaynie.

After dinner was a bit more subdued.  And then a screaming fit at bathtime.

Finally we were at bedtime and I couldn't have been more excited.  I was over the fits and the sassing and the screaming and the crying and the throwing herself on the floor.

Oh, and the falling down on the floor and then saying, "You knocked me down, mommy."  I forgot to mention that one.  And that one just straight up pisses me off.  I was nowhere NEAR her at those times when she fell down on the floor and said that.  And I won't stand for that.  That one earns her a one-way ticket to a 3 minute time out (her time outs are still 1-2 minutes because we don't have to do it that often.).

She went potty and then went to bed.  Chris and I went out to the patio thinking that she'd go right to sleep because she was super tired.  Hence all the bad behavior.

And her second wind kicked in. 

I was in the house trying on a dress I'd bought.  She came storming in my bedroom.  "I have to potty!!"

Three drops of pee later, she was back in her bed.

I was sitting at the patio table.  I thought I heard something behind me.  She was standing at the sliding door knocking.  I went in and asked her what was wrong.  "Something's itching me in my bed."

A bed inspection and a lame-ass "Maybe it's the tag on your blanket." excuse on my part later, she was back in bed again.

Repeat the sliding door routine.

I sent Chris this time.  He changed her shorts because they were itching her and put her back in bed.

Repeat the sliding door routine.

I went in and asked her what was wrong.  "My bottom itches."

I wiped her with some baby wipes and put her back to bed.  This time I decided to stay in because I was tired of going in and out.

She began to cry about 5 minutes later. 

I went into her room. "I still itch."

I put lotion on her and told her that it made it so she would NOT itch anymore. (Keep in mind that when I would ask her where she itched, she'd point to a different random body part everytime.  With absolutely NO evidence of scratching.)

She began to cry 5 minutes later.

I sent Chris.  "I heard a noise."

He told her to stop crying and getting up and GO TO SLEEP.

She began to cry 5 minutes later.

I went in and...I'm not sure what I said.  But she barely made a peep after that time.

What did I WANT to say to her?  GO THE F**K TO SLEEP.

When I posted on Facebook about this problem last night, I got a link to that book.  Yes, it is a real book.  There is also a Youtube video of Samuel L. Jackson reading it, but to view it, you have to sign in.  If any of you parents would like to read it and NOT buy it, I have it saved as a PDF file that I can email (Thanks, Kellie!!).  Leave your email in the comments (don't worry, I won't publish if you don't want me to) and I'll send it along.  It's refreshing.

While it isn't a book that helped...or even a book that I could read to Jayna, it made me realize that I'm not the first parent that's gone through this.  And I won't be the last.

Keep calm and carry on.  And then write a book about how you feel...without holding back.  I apparently worked for Adam Mansbach.

I don't know how long this will last, but one thing is for sure:  WHEN THIS ISSUE PUTS ITSELF TO REST, THERE WILL BE 3 NEW ONES TO REPLACE IT.

I'm sooo freakin' in for it.

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.

Five for Thursday: Finger Splint Woes

I will tell the story of HOW the finger splint came about when it's easier to type.  But for now, here is Five for Friday:  Things that are UNSANELY Difficult to Do Whilst Wearing a Finger Splint.

Note:  Finger Splint is on my middle finger of my right (AND DOMINANT) hand.

1. TYPE.  This sentemce was typoloed wiuthout me cp99orrect9ijng oit.  See?  I'm not lying about the typing.  I won't be blogging/writing/crocheting for a few days to come.
2. BRUSH TEETH.  Try holding a battery operated tooth brush with your thumb and ring/pinky fingers and see how you fare.  It's ridiculous.
3. CHANGE A CD IN A CAR CD PLAYER.  I can barely do that while driving WITHOUT the splint.  Oncoming traffic=bad.
4. GET CHANGE OUT OF THE CAR CONSOLE TO PAY THE SBUX MAN.  I held up the Starbucks line for approximately 3 minutes because I couldn't get hold of 3 pennies...and I didn't care because I'M INJURED, BITCHES.
5. WRITE CHRISTMAS CARDS.  So I made Chris do it. :)

And a bonus for y'all...The One Thing That is Easiest to Do Whilst Having a Splint On Your Middle Finger...

1. FLIPPING PEOPLE OFF.  Finger Splint=more visible and even REFLECTIVE on those cold, dark winter mornings.  I think I'll keep it in the car after I don't have to wear it anymore JUST to signal people who piss me off.

How 'bout y'all??  Any holiday injuries??  Do tell....

Well Played Wednesday: Voice of Reason

It snowed here beginning Sunday afternoon and kept snowing until sometime Monday.  If you live anywhere remotely close to me, then that is NOT news to you.  Nor is it news that this unusually-early-in-the-winter snowfall caused all of our state to forget everything they learned in driver's ed.  Oh...and the subsequent 10+ years of driving experience the majority of them have had.

Why is it that snow causes people to lose all common driving sense??  I get it.  Don't speed.  Don't tailgate.  Only go as fast as the conditions allow.  I get it.  Really.  But what I DON'T get is the need to drive 15 miles per hour on a completely clear STRAIGHT FLAT road.  I don't get slamming on the breaks for ABSOLUTELY NO EFFING REASON other than the wind blew.  I don't get not using turn signals.  And I don't get the people who think it's okay to drive FASTER than when there is NOT a snow storm.  I'm just saying.

So, while driving Jayna to Aunt Summer's on Monday morning, I was slightly on edge.  It had taken me WAY TOO long to get to where I was...and I wasn't even there yet!!  I was driving on my favorite street in Oddville in which the normal speed limit is 30 miles per hour.  I got behind a woman going 13 miles an hour.  THIRTEEN.  It wasn't actively snowing.  Oddville is very good about clearing their main roads, so this road was completely clean (it was actually the FIRST street I drove on on Monday morning that was completely clear).  She continually slammed on her breaks for absolutely nothing.  I wasn't tailgating her and there was no one in front of her.  I'm still unsure of what she was doing.  She turned on her turn signal about half a mile before she turned.  I was extremely annoyed.

I said, partially under my breath, "Go lady!!  Geez!" 

And from the backseat I hear, "She not want her car to fall down in the snow, mom."

I should've left it alone.  I should've listened to my little 2-year-old voice of reason.  But I just HAD to continue.

"Yes, but Jayna, she's going REALLY slow."

Jayna thinks for a moment and then says, "But she being REALLY careful, mom.  Like you said to Jaynie on the sidewalk."  (That morning I had repeatedly told her to be REALLY careful while walking on the front walkway to the car.)

Well played, Jayna.  Next time I'll listen.

Well Played Wednesday: Grammar

Jayna has a new very bad habit of just flat out telling me "no." 

"Jayna, how was your day today?"  "NO!!"

"Jayna, what do you want for dinner?"  "NO!!"

"Jayna, let's go see Santa!"  "NO!!"

You get the idea.

I've been hounding her about NOT doing this.  Mostly for my sanity.  It's seriously "no" to EVERYTHING.  Even if I just say "Hi, Jayna."  "No, mommy."

She's been in trouble lately for doing this.  I'm just to my wit's end about getting her to STOP IT!! 

So she stopped.  And now she says "uh uh."  Because that's entirely different than saying "no."  Duh.

Yesterday in the car I wasn't even talking to her and she kept repeating in the back seat, "Uh uh, mom.  Uh uh.  MOM!!!!!  UH UH!!!"

I stopped at a stop light and turned around to look at her.  I very calmly said, "Jayna, saying 'uh uh' is the same as saying 'no.'  You shouldn't say that to mommy."

Her reply, "Uh uh, mom.  'No' has a N."

Well played, Jayna.  I can't remember the last time I was schooled in grammar by a 2-year-old.

Tortuous, Traumatic Tuesday (that actually happened on Monday)

I ran last night. 

That is the long and short of this post.  So if you're a "get to the point because I don't care about all the shit that happened in between" type of person, you can stop reading there.

And I shall begin at the...beginning. 

Chris and I are in agreement that this is the beginning of the end for Morgan.  We do not know how long this will be dragged out.  We believe that the cancer is back and is taking it's toll on him.  Add that to his degenerating joints and muscle and the result isn't hopeful.  At all. 

The one thing that helps Moe is walking.  He loves to go on walks.  He's loved it since he was born.  This isn't only good for his hips and joints, but it is soooo outstanding for his mental state.  After walking last night, he slept for 3 hours straight last night and actually SNORED!!  He slept well for 3 hours!  That hasn't happened in months.

The problem with walking Moe is that Moe can't be walked with Oliver anymore.  Ollie is way too rambunctious and fast.  Moe prefers to sort of mosey instead of power walk.  Oliver also runs into and cuts in front of Moe almost causing him to fall down.  And we just can't do it anymore.  But you can't just take ONE dog on a walk when you have more than one dog.  Y'all with multiple pets know what I'm saying.

So there's that part of things. 

I decided yesterday that SHOES OR NO SHOES, I am going to begin atleast walking 3 or 4 times a week.  If I'm going to run the Mini, then I need to start doing something...a step in the right direction.  And since Ollie likes to trot and I can only run slow, I resolved to take Ollie running with me and then Chris would walk Moe after I got back with Ollie.  Sounds like a pretty good plan, huh?  Yeah.  Nope.

On my way home, I drove my neighborhood and mapped out a safe and easy 1.2 miles.  "That'll be easy enough!  Half hour tops.  And then Chris can walk Moe and we'll all be home in time for dinner!!"  I was soooo optimistic!  And that's where I went wrong.

Ollie did the SAME EXACT EFFING THING TO ME that he does to Moe.  First of all, he wanted to stop at EVERY mailbox to pee.  I expected that to happen for the first little bit.  But I was sure that once he went potty and got the hang of what we were doing that he'd settle.  He never settled.  He cut in front of me once and I was sure that I was going to eat the concrete.  He would go super fast to the end of his leash and the come to a complete stop.  So fast, slow, fast, slow was our pace.  He saw a plastic grocery bag floating in the wind in someone's yard and darted in front of me to get BEHIND me so I could protect him.  There goes the theory that he'd be able to protect me if needed.

I ended up only going about .6 miles and I walked about .2 of it.  So I didn't even run HALF of a mile and I thought I was going to die.  I...am officially ALREADY discouraged.

My chest was on fire for more than an hour.  Toward the end of the run I realized how hard all of this was going to be and I started crying.  So many things have been building up and they all broke loose at that moment.  It's difficult to cry and run, especially in the cold when your nose is already running and you're already huffing and puffing. 

I had a complete breakdown when I got home...and it was VERY embarrassing.  "So why are you writing about it, moron??  Don't tell the world about your embarrassing moments!!"  Well, gentle readers, I think you should all know.  For posterity.  And we all can be honest...I know only 6 or 7 people really read here.

And now I HAVE to conquer this.  That .6 miles was a huge wake up call.  My health needs to improve and I need to start NOW. 

There's no time like the present.  So what are YOU going to do today??

Too Many Hobbies Tuesday

I've decided that I have too many hobbies. And I will likely do NOTHING about it.


I have many pieces of furniture (okay, 4...but 3 are bookshelves and one is a storage cabinet) in my garage that are in the process of being finished. What's stopping me? I have to sand the hell out of all of them.

I have eleventyjillion unfinished scrapbook projects. But do I work on them? Absolutely NOT. I take up other hobbies like crocheting.

I currently have 2 crochet projects to finish for Jayna, one for myself and one for a friend. But last night I just wanted to watch television.

I have some minor woodworking projects (one was for Halloween and isn't finished...there's always next year) that I'm working on for an upcoming possible teaching workshop thingy. But they also have to be sanded and I feel that I can't work on them until Jayna's furniture is sanded. It's like my sander shakes it's finger at me and says, "You should be working on the kid's stuff!!"

I also like to bake and decorate cupcakes.  But when the HELL am I going to do that???

I've determined that there is one part of EVERY hobby I have that I don't like doing. I don't like sanding wood. I don't like printing photos for scrapbooking. And I don't like blocking and washing crochet projects.  I don't really like the actual MAKING of the cake.  My strong suit is decorating.

I also like to paint, but that's on the back burner because of all of the above. I also like to do, you know, PHYSICAL activities outdoors and stuff. I haven't been to the nature preserve in FOREVER. Yesterday I played outside with Jayna and it was delightful.

Many of my crafting issues are because of my Four New Things Expedition. I've gotta stop with the craft stuff.

My goal next year is to not add ANY new craft categories to my life. I am only allowed to add one-time events or things that are good for my body. I plan to play paintball. And I plan to run the mini. So I'm off to a good start.

So...what was the point of this post? As always, your guess is as good as mine.

Whiny Wednesday: Blah Blah Blah

**Note:  If you don't want to hear me whine, then stop reading.....NOW.  I don't feel like I whine too very much on the ole blogaroo, but it's MY blog and I want to whine, DAMMIT.  So there.**

Jayna has strep throat.  On Saturday night, she slept for 13 hours.  When I woke her up on Sunday morning, not yet knowing she was sick, she was majorly irritated with the fact that I woke her up.  So I let her lounge around and hang out in her pajamas almost all day.  She fell asleep on the couch watching Muppets from Space...and that is UNHEARD OF.  My kid doesn't fall asleep on the couch...especially whilst watching her beloved Muppets.  She even looked at me and said, "I turn around (meaning "over") now and take night night."  And that she did.

She slept for 2 hours and then frantically awoke in a panic.  I knew then that her fever had broken and she was slightly disoriented and sweating buckets.  Poor kid. 

On Sunday, she ate 20-something raisins, 4 french fries and 3 Doritos.  End of story.  She wouldn't even eat a brownie.  I had to force her to drink.

I stayed home with her Monday morning so she could sleep in.  I called her doc as soon as they opened, gave them her symptoms (decreased appetite, very little urination, fever of around 101, lethargy and general discomfort) and asked them if I should bring her in.  I was told that there were several viral things going around and that if her fever went away by Tuesday evening then it was probably viral.  But if her fever spiked to bring her in or take her to the emergency room.

I then promptly took her to Summer and came to work...2 hours late.

When I picked her up at 3:30pm, she looked like she'd been run over by a MACK truck.  She still had a low fever, but she really looked like hell.  I called the doc to make her an appointment.  I didn't really care what they thought at that point in time.  She was going to see a doctor.  I was told to bring her right away.

When we got there she was a crying mess.  She wanted to go home and sit on the couch.  She had been complaining a little that it hurt when she peed.  So they took a urine sample and did a urinalysis.  It didn't show any immediate signs of infection, so they sent it to be cultured.  She was examined by her doc and ended up having a strep test done.  And it was positive.

Hello, Amoxicillin.  It's been a long time...but not nearly long enough.

I received a call today that there is in actuality a contaminant in her urine also.  The Amox should clear it up, but we'll see.  Poor poor baby.

I also forgot to mention that Chris was out of town Sunday and Monday.

Monday was the worst...I had to lug her around to get her meds and some mushy/cold foods to eat.  And she was exhuasted.  But I really had no choice.  She HAD to have that antibiotic on Monday night.

I had to do that all by myself.  There's nothing like determining that you're co-dependent. :)  I did survive and do everything that I was supposed to (and then collapsed after the kid went to bed), but I sure as HELL didn't LIKE it.

She seems to be getting better.  I suppose we'll see.

And I'd like to say, FOR THE RECORD:  Major props to all the single parents/parents with traveling spouses.  I don't know how y'all do it.  You have my full respect as parents to little ones (or big ones).

Here's to a new day!!

Five For Friday: Week of Weird

This week has been...different.  Some strange things have happened to me.  I've seen some strange things.  And one thing happened to me that totally took me by surprise and embarrassed me.  What else am I to do but put it in writing on a public blog on the interwebs??  Yeah...no keeping my embarrassing moments to myself. 

1. Twice this week I accidentally ate soap.  Yes, I said accidentally.  And soap.  TWICE.  On Monday I was multitasking...eating a cookie and doing dishes.  That one is pretty self-explanatory.  On Wednesday, I was again multitasking...starting laundry and eating pizza.  Who does laundry and eats pizza??  Me.  That's who.
2. I shut Jayna in the garage with all the doors closed and the garage door down.  She was in there all by herself.  In the dark.  But only for about 45 seconds.  See, I was taking the trash out to the garage to be prepared for trash day.  It was about 5 minutes before Jayna's bedtime and she was in her nightgown and everything...but she followed me out there.  She said, "I paint, mommy."  I said, "No, it's bedtime."  She said, "I go play dollies."  And I *thought* she ran back in the house to get her dollies.  I hurried and gathered the trash, turned off the light and darted back into the house to tell her to not get out all of her dolls because it was bedtime.  I yelled to her, "Jayna, don't get your dolls out...it's bedtime."  No answer.  "Jayna??"  No answer.  "Jayna, where are you??"  And that's when I heard a knock on the other side of the garage door into the house and a little voice say, "Mommy..."  I opened the door fully expecting a scared look and even some crying.  Nothing.  The kid was absolutely NOT bothered by being in the dark garage by herself.  I apologized to her and she promptly apologized to me.  I said, "You don't have to be sorry, baby.  It's mommy's fault."  And she responded, "It's okay, mommy.  I sorry too."  What an angel.
3. There are eleventyjillion political signs on a few of the street corners that I pass everyday.  One said, "Vote Yes for NICK NOE Trustee."  I laughed..."Vote YES for NOE."  Haha.  And right next to it was "Elect JACK RUSSELL for Board Member."  And I thought, "Yes, I'm sure a little dog COULD do a better job than some elected officials."  I sure do love voting season. :)
4. I went to JoAnn's yesterday to get ONE SKEIN of yarn.  It should've taken me 4 minutes.  Jayna decided that it was a good time to go potty on the big girl potty...3 TIMES IN 7 MINUTES.  What should have taken me 4 minutes took me 27.  Yay for potty training.
5. My friend KT was out of town for the better part of the week.  She is a sort of new friend and I am embarrassed to say how much I missed her.  Having a buddy that I can communicate with on a daily basis is something that I've gotten used to very quickly.  Geez...I hope I don't screw this up. Haha.

What weird has happened to you lately??

Five for Friday: Hopefully

I'm not sure this list will make it to five.  It's been a rough day...

1. I spanked my kid today.  Not with a belt.  Not by yanking her up by her arm and slamming her.  I simply scooped her up and smacked her daipered behind 2 times.  She threw a flashlight at Moe today and then proceeded to beat Ollie repeatedly in his head with her shoe 8 or 9 times.  She got upset with me after I spanked and then threw her shoe at my temple.  THE SAME TEMPLE SHE HEAD BUTTED ME IN ON MONDAY.  I'm at my wits end and have NO IDEA how to control the tantrums at this point.
2. I think I just told all of my Facebook friends that there is a party at my house next Saturday night.  Uhoh.  What was I thinking?  Hopefully they think I was kidding.
3. On a related note, I've been having a case of the "don't think before you act"s.  I've been upsetting people left and right over silly things that could have been cleared up with  me just thinking about what I was doing before I did it.  Oy.  I haven't overanalyzed anything in like 2 weeks...except this.  I think I feel like a normal person...and I don't know how you all live like this!
4. I get tailgated by the SAME WOMAN 2 or 3 days of EVERY week.  I mean severely tailgated.  It happens after I drop off Jayna and when I'm on my way to work.  I can see what color this woman's eye shadow is!!  I hope she finds a new way to work or leaves a little earlier from now on.
5. I want ice cream.  No, I want beer.  Okay, both.

Wake-up Call Wednesday

There is no secondary title up there.  And it's because I can't think of one.  There are no words to express my anger, frustration, disgust and sadness regarding this situation. 

I have some interesting views on...things.  I consider myself on the liberal side, but there are parts of me that want to REALLY crack down on certain groups of people out there.  ENEMY NUMBER ONE is the person who has a child, learns that they haven't the means, brains, patience or self-control to raise said child and then...wait for it...CONTINUES TO HAVE MORE CHILDREN.  Oh, and then does something horrific like this:  Mother in Court over Children's Neglect Deaths. 

I told myself I wouldn't blog about this.

I PROMISED myself.

But I just have to.

How can a mother be capable of this??  Was she drugged out?  Does she have a severe mental illness?  Is she just an EFFING IDIOT?? 

Seriously.  If you are a fully functioning, sober and otherwise healthy (mentally and physically) and things get so bad that you feel the need to lock up your kids and not feed them, don't you think you'd want to get some help?

Or is that just me?

I've been frustrated with my kid before. 

I worked with school-aged children for 3 years and got so frustrated that I locked myself in the classroom bathroom for 10 minutes (don't worry-other people were there).  But I've never even THOUGHT of locking up the kids.

I am curious to see how this story pans out.  On one hand I want to ignore it.  On the other, I want to read and watch everything I can about it to make sure this idiot gets what's coming to her.

Baffling.

Infuriating.

Heartbreaking.

I've cried over this story SEVERAL times already.  Like when the pregnant-with-twins bank teller was shot a few years back. 

I just can't stop thinking about it.  About how the other kids were locked in that closet with their dead siblings...and didn't even know it.  How they will never celebrate another birthday, Christmas, etc. with their siblings.  And about how they now have to go through the hell of being in the care of the state because their mother couldn't take care of them.  And about how TWO children died because of utter stupidity.

I can only hope that justice will be served.

Most Recent Personal Growth Experience

We went to look at the Cape Cod house last night.  It was a very funny experience.  The realtor didn't show up (see sidenote).

We took along my father-in-law, Rick, because he knows a little more about houses than we do.  Things like the amount of money it costs to replace a cedar shingle roof with a 12 foot pitch down to the rafters.  You know, common knowledge stuff (I hope y'all heard that sarcasm over the interwebs).  Oh...and the amount of money it costs to replace a cedar shingle roof with a 12 foot pitch down to the rafters is over 10 grand.  Yeah.

Okay, so if we got the house for dirt cheap and had to put 10 grand into the roof, it wouldn't be so bad.  Or if the roof was the only thing we had to replace.  But that was NOT the case.  We could have easily put $70,000.00 into this house to make it liveable. 

The smell of the house alone would have caused us to remove all floors, including the subfloor and some drywall.  I think there were 10 dogs living in the house who never got put outside.  There was water damage to the upstairs ceiling...almost the entire ceiling would have to be replaced.  All of the bathrooms were unusable.  The downstairs bathroom seemed to have been a mud room before it was a bathroom.  It had a door at both ends...one connecting into the house and another connecting into the garage.  There was what seemed to be a closet in the living room, but when we opened the doors there was a spiral staircase.  Can you say Rose Red??  Yikes!!  The entire house was like a maze.  There was doorway after doorway after doorway.

Upon entering the kitchen, we all noticed immediately that the entire downstairs floor slants to the middle of the house.  Foundation issue, I'm sure.  The kitchen would need to be completely torn down and redone.  After the foundation was fixed, of course.  There was a refrigerator in the kitchen that I didn't have the guts to look in.

We went upstairs only to find that all of the floating floor had lifted off of the floor.  Water damage out the wazoo!!!  Almost the entire ceiling had water damage.  One of the bedrooms had wood paneling on the walls and the paneling was wavy from being so wet.  There were 4 rooms up there, but one room had to be entered through one of the other bedrooms.  Hence the spiral staircase in the closet downstairs.  They didn't have access to that room without going through another room, so they just put in that weird staircase to solve that problem.  Weirdos.

The bathrooms were ridiculous.  They all needed to be completely gutted and redone.  We didn't even go into the garage and look at the furnace and stuff.  We had already seen enough.  Rick said to me, "Well, where would you start?"  To which I replied, "By walking out the front door and driving away."

And here is my problem with all of this.  This house has only been vacant for about 18 months.  It had been winterized.  Being vacant for 18 months would explain why some of the flooring had popped up, a little bit of a musty smell and some bugs.  It does NOT explain why the house smelled like 10 dogs lived there and peed on every surface of the house.  It did NOT explain why there was years of baked on food on the cook top.  It did NOT explain why the bathrooms were completely unusable.  And it did NOT explain why no one had done anything even remotely CLOSE to cleaning the house for what looked like atleast 5 years before the 18 month vacancy.

When do you finally decide that your house is dirty enough to clean??  Or that maybe you have too many dogs?  Or that maybe if you have that many dogs (or ANY DOGS) that they should pee outdoors?  I mean, the house has a big yard.  And what makes you decided to put in a damn freaky spiral staircase in a CLOSET??  I'm just saying.

This house had potential at one time.  And if I ever meet the former owners, someone is getting punched.  I know foreclosure is difficult, but not so difficult that your dogs can't go outside to pee.

And so my most recent personal growth experience was an interesting one.  I suppose I'll keep trying and continue to grow.

Sidenote:  The realtor also had another family come look at the house last night.  I made a joke about how they were a "planted" family because I thought the realtor was trying to get over on me.  I mean, what am I supposed to think since this house has been for sale for 18 months and then 2 people want to see it on the same day??  Sure.  The realtor called me about 5 minutes before he was scheduled to be there and told me he had a flat tire at an intersection near my house and that he'd give me the code to get in the house.  I did NOT believe him.  I thought he just wanted the other family and us to be there at the same time to cause some competition or that he knew we weren't going to buy the house and didn't want to waste his time.  After leaving the house, my curiosity got the best of me and I drove to the intersection where he said he had a flat.  And there he was.  Oops.

Ticked Off Tuesday...

...which started with Manic Monday and will undoubtedly turn into Weepy Wednesday.  I feel like a total parental failure today.  Hey, atleast I had a good run, right?

A very high percentage of my brain tells me that Jayna is just entering her terrible twos and that things will eventually get better and even themselves out.  But there is that small part somewhere in there that tells me that I'm doing a horrible job and that I am incapable of raising a child.

Here's the situation:

Jayna has been throwing about 15 fits a day ranging from throwing things at me or the dogs, throwing herself onto the floor, crying, kicking, screaming, doing things that she KNOWS she isn't allowed to do, and...most annoying and frustrating of all...hitting me.  I don't know where she learned the hitting from.  We don't spank her and she isn't around other kids who hit.  She doesn't watch alot of television outside of Sesame Street and the occasional Spongebob.  These fits are over EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN.  She threw a fit this morning because I told her to carry her juice cup to the car.  She threw it at me and then threw herself on the ground to cry and thrash around.  So the juice cup got left at home.  She throws fits when she can't have popsicles for breakfast.  When Spongebob isn't on television.  When you touch or look at her.  When I'm on the phone.  When we can't go outside because it's pouring rain.  When I put her shoes on her.  And all I can say is Oh. My. God.

I am the target of most of Jayna's fits.  Is that normal?  I feel like it is, but I could use some encouragement.  She doesn't throw these fits nearly as often with Chris or Summer or anyone else.  I always have to be the bad guy (which is fine...I'm here to teach her to be a functioning member of society before I'm here to be her friend at this point) and then she takes that out on me.  And I hate it.  But I know I can't just give in.  That's just not how I work.  Parent first.  Friend later.

Yesterday afternoon and this morning were particularly bad.  She had a time out almost as soon as I got to Summer's to pick her up for hitting me because she didn't want to go home.  ALOT of her fits happen when it's time to go home from Summer's.  Does this mean she's being babied?  I don't know.  All I know is that I canNOT do that everyday when I pick her up.  Something has to change.

She then proceeded to throw more fits when we got home (about 5 different times) for various things like the dog walking too close to her and because she couldn't get her crayon box open.  I just wanted to punch myself in the face.

This morning was equally bad too.  First she didn't want to go to Summer's, so we started with a fit because we were leaving.  And after I convinced her that we should go, it was a fit because she needed shoes and a jacket to go outside to the car.  And then because I asked her to carry her juice cup.  And then she threw her book in the car and threw a fit because I wouldn't give it back to her.   AAAARRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Once we got to Summer's, it was a fit because we were going into the house instead of walking to the bus stop (bus wasn't coming yet).  Then it was a fit because she wanted Summer to carry her down the street.  And then I got the hell out of there.

I don't know what to do.  Should I just let her throw the fit and wait it out?  Should I make her do things while she's throwing a fit?  Like, when she doesn't want to leave Summer's in the afternoon, should I wait to put her in the car until she's done throwing the fit and no one is paying attention to her or should I put her in the car while she's throwing the fit to show her that she will still have to go home even though she's throwing a fit?   Help.  Please.

I do realize that the tantrum is a common occurrence and that I'll survive it.  I also know that her little brain is growing and developing at the speed of light and that is sure to make her a little crazy sometimes.  She is also getting her 2 year molars, so that is fun too.  Just help me get through this!

Jayna doesn't get time outs for tantrums...she only gets a time out when she hurts someone because she's throwing a tantrum.  I don't want to overuse the time out because then it becomes even more ineffective.  I don't want to spank her.  And I don't want to put her on a plane to Russia.  But what do I do to alleviate some of these tantrums?

What do y'all do about tantrums?  Do you stop the world for them or do you work through them?  Do you have any helpful advice or stories or words of encouragement that will help me keep my sanity?

I seriously feel like she hates me and that I have no business raising a kid.

The Goings-On In Life

Lots.  Lots of things.  I can't keep things straight and I'm beginning to lose track of what day it is...

Here's a bulleted list for your convenience (because you all care so much)...

• Last week I baked lots of goodies for a bake sale to raise money to send a friend's parents on an Alaskan cruise.  My friend, Leah's, dad has pancreatic cancer and she is trying to raise enough money to send him on his dream vacation.  I baked 2 dozen cupcakes and they all sold in 2 days!  I also made brownie cookies and popcorn bark.  I'm so proud of myself for lending a hand for a good cause.
• A little over two weeks ago I began a hardcore diet.  I have lost 9 pounds.  NINE!!!!  I am proud of myself for this also...especially since the diet coincided with cupcake-baking.  I didn't eat ONE cupcake through all of that baking.  I also stopped drinking beer except on special occasions.  It's been difficult, but everytime I see the scale go down I know it's worth it.
• Chris and I have been looking for a new house.  We haven't been really diligent about it, we just drive through neighborhoods we like and then do research on houses that look empty or are for sale.  There was a perfect house last week and when Chris called about it, it had been sold.  Note to realtors:  IF YOU SELL A HOUSE, TAKE THE G DARN SIGN OUT OF THE YARD.
• Jayna is getting her 2-year molars and has been a mix between a perfect angel and a hellish nightmare.  All within hours of one another.  She is getting incredibly big and can do things like climb the ladder on our swingset and is learning her colors and such.  Pics will soon follow.
• Last weekend we went to Louisville to celebrate the marriage of our good friends Mark and Charlotte.  We've known Mark for the better of 10 years and never thought we'd see the day!!  We also got to know a few other friends alot better and realized that we have lots in common.  If only we lived closer...
• I missed Five for Friday last week, so be prepared for TWO installments tomorrow.  I know you can't wait!!

Five for Friday: Facebook Frustration

I am an avid Facebook user.  I do NOT play games or use apps.  I used Social Interview for a few months and then decided that I was probably just bugging people instead of amusing them.  With Facebook comes a plethora of issues that arise AGAIN AND AGAIN in my friends' statuses and in my newsfeed.  And I'm sick and tired of some of them.  Today's Five for Friday is entitled, "Facebook Issues for which I Will Consider Defriending You."  I know, I'm a mean, cold-hearted bitch.

1. Rants about the health care bill that aren't backed up by any sort of intelligent research or facts.  If you oppose the health care bill, good for you.  If you approve, equally good for you.  But if you insist on telling the Facebook world (in usually irritating or insulting terms) that you approve or oppose, please do so by showing those of us who rely on facts to make informed decisions some hard evidence that supports your rather irritating remarks.  I will NOT accept "this health care bill will only benefit border jumpers and crackheads" as a viable response to why you oppose.  I will defriend you.
2. People who CONSTANTLY change their relationship status from "In A Relationship" to "It's Complicated" or "Single" and then back to "In a Relationship" within a matter of hours.  If your only way to tell your significant other that you are unhappy in the relationship is to change your Facebook relationship status, then I don't have time for your effing shenanigans.
3. People who never update statuses or write on walls or send messages but insist on posting EVERY EFFING LEVEL of EVERY EFFING GAME that they play or telling about EVERY EFFING ANIMAL or EVERY EFFING BOARD THEY'VE ACQUIRED TO BUILD A HORSEBARN to the newsfeed.  If you choose to play the games, good for you.  I wish I had that kind of time...to keep up with a farm and raising fish and walking dogs and being in a sorority, but I just don't and I don't care about yours either.  Play the games, just don't clog up my newsfeed with all your games.  I will defriend you.
4. Related to the above:  People who constantly send me requests asking me to help them with said farm or fish or dogs or sororities.  I constantly ignore these requests and I KNOW you notice I ignore them.  PLEASE TAKE A G DARN HINT!!
5. Friend Collectors.  If I don't know you, even if we did, in fact, go to high school together, I will NOT accept your request.  I am not a pet.  And I don't care about your life if you don't even know me.  Facebook isn't a contest...go get a life.

What bugs YOU about Facebook?

Jayna at 17 Months

I'll begin with the cliche.  Where has the time gone??  I can't believe she's already this old!! 

Okay.  Now that we're done with the obligatory things, let's get down to the nitty gritty.  I'm not sure what that even means.  How "nitty gritty" can we get when talking about a toddler??

Anyhoodle...

My kid is nuts.  Except I think she's just a regular toddler.  I went back and read my 15 month post and I've realized that not alot has changed.  Except that EVERYTHING has changed!!  If only I could write a coherent sentence.  Toddlers do that to you.

In my last post I wrote:  "Jayna is doing wonderfully. She's discovered running and has thus discovered falling down ALOT. She throws tantrums and gives the sweetest kisses. She uses her charm to her advantage. She's learning at the speed of freakin' light. She still adores Sesame Street. She loves her doggies more than ever. And she is so cuddly right now that I melt atleast once a day. And that kid loves me. I mean, she absolutely loves me. She asks for me and looks for me when I'm gone and is happy to see me when I return. We're on the same page again and I can't get enough of it."

That pretty much sums it up, folks.  Except that we are NOT on the same page lately.  All that other stuff is true.  But she's now learning more and more that she has the ability to make choices.  And those choices often do not coincide with what mommy and daddy think is best for Jayna.  And that creates alot of tension, frustration and walking away. 

She is perfecting the tantrum including the "follow mommy into the kitchen and continue the tantrum in there since she walked away from me and can't see my pitiful little crying face thus can not properly feel sorry for me and give me what I want."  Her tantrums are actually pretty hilarious.  It takes everything I have to not just laugh at her sometimes.  She is so...committed to the tantrum.  She is very good with the follow-through.  She'll first throw herself onto the floor by sitting down and folding herself over.  Then she'll smack the floor with her hand just one time and scream.  Then she'll kick the air.  And then she'll look at you and if you haven't given in, she'll lie down like she's going to sleep and cry and scream like you've just beaten her.  I just leave the room.  And she now follows me and has even gone as far as attaching herself to my leg.  And I just pretend like she isn't there.  And I laugh on the inside.  But I don't give in.

She is saying more words now but only sporadically.  She says doggy, cookie, car, shoe, trash, fish, wash, lala (for Elmo because of the song), mommy, daddy, moe, bubba (her cousin), nana, pawpaw, book, boot, shoe, bus, that, this, bye bye, night night, nano (no more) and some others that don't come to mind right now.  I really hope she begins talking more for the reason below.

Her frustration level with things is very high right now.  She is having trouble communicating things because of her lack of vocabulary.  We're working on it.  When she asks for something with her classic series of pointing and "uh, uh", we make sure that we say a one word description of what we're doing atleast 3 times before giving it to her.  If she points to the kitchen counter at the animal crackers, we say the word "cookie" 3 times and then give her a cookie.  If she wants to sit on the couch (she can't get up onto our couch yet because it's very high) we say "up" 3 times and then put her up.  We're trying to engrain these words into her brain.  And I'm sure she'll get it eventually.  My friend Laura has a little girl who is 3 months older than Jayna and she speaks in sentences.  I'm not sure that there is one word that the kid can't say!!  I think to myself that it must be easier that Layla can talk, but harder at the same time.  Because I'm sure the backtalk will soon begin if it hasn't already!!

Jayna is so sweet.  She loves things and she loves them big.  She kisses everything and hugs everything.  Her emotions are pretty intense right now.  And it's sooo cute.

She thrives on routine.  We have a routine for almost everything we do.  We sometimes don't follow it and she's okay with that, but she'll still insert her own little parts of the normal routine.  If we skip bath for some reason, she still wants to turn off the bathroom light.  She's learning choice.  What a wonderful thing to learn...

And here are some fairly recent photos, as if you haven't seen enough from the holidays...

Family snapshot at the Mall when our friends Mark and Charlotte visited.

Hangin' on the couch reading before bed.

Jayna loves to sit inside boxes and containers and things.  She sat in this one for about 15 minutes and watched Sesame Street.

Don't worry...it's empty.  She put her baby doll in there and carried it around.  It's her Not a Box.

So there you have it.  Next month I'll have a 1.5 years update with info from the doc.  I dare those bitches to tell me she's overweight...

Hope for the best.

Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best.  I try to live by that phrase.  I think it is the perfect pessimistic/optimistic mixture of a motto.  Maybe we'll call that realistic for now.  But in reality, it isn't realistic.  That was a funny sentence...

Last Friday Jayna woke up in a good mood.  She was happy and smiley and cuddly.  And then it was time to leave.  And then she threw a fit.  So I took her to the babysitter, said my goodbyes and began to prepare myself for what the evening would bring...quite possibly a Friday night from hell.

Prepare for the worst.  Develop a worst case scenario and determine how I will deal with said scenario if it happens.  Worst case scenario:  She doesn't nap all day and is just plain grouchy.  CHECK!!  Her teeth hurt.  CHECK!!  Her nose is running off of her face.  CHECK!!  She has No. Idea. What.  She wants.  DOUBLE CHECK!!

How will I deal with this?  With compassion.  CHECK!!  With lots of kisses and cuddles and cheerios and crackers and juice.  CHECK!!  With Elmo.  CHECK!!  With Blue's Clues.  CHECK!!  With playtime and no chores.  CHECK!!  With one-on-one attention.  CHECK!!  With patience.  Errr...(crickets chirping).

I had patience.  I did.  I had patience right up until she started slapping me in the face and trying to bite me directly followed by lying her sweet little head on my shoulder and hugging me.  I had patience until she kicked the dog.  I had patience until she wanted me to hold her and put her down AT THE SAME TIME.  And I had patience until I took a juice cup to the head.  A juice cup to the head immediately followed by the most adorable snotty kisses I've EVER received.  I had it together until this plethora of insanity happened within a matter of minutes.  The minutes that just happened to be the ones immediately preceding daddy's arrival.

Oh, glorious daddy!!  Daddy who doesn't get a juice cup to the head or slaps to the face but, alas, still receives those wonderfully sweet hugs and adorable snotty kisses.  Daddy who can make it all better by simply being daddy...by simply walking through the damn door.  I wonder what his plan was.  I can tell you.  He didn't have one.  He prefers the "fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants" approach.

I then passed the torch to daddy.  I kept my distance for the remainder of the evening, all the while wondering what I did wrong and what I exactly did to deserve a juice cup to the head.  I wondered why my cuddles weren't good enough.  Why my shoulder wasn't comfortable enough.  Why my tickles were upsetting while daddy's were funny.  And why my cheerios were thrown at the dog while daddy's were eagerly eaten up.  Why I ever thought I could be a mom.  Why I can't do anything right.  Why she hates me.  Why.  Why.  Why.

And while daddy and Jayna played and played and ate dinner and played some more, I did dishes and cleaned while quite possibly shedding the most tears I've shed since Jayna was around 2 months old.  I just couldn't fathom why I wasn't good enough.  Why she didn't like me.

It's days like last Friday that force me to include the last part of the motto...hope for the best.  When all I have is hope that things will get better.  Hope that tomorrow, or the next day, my cuddles will be warm and fuzzy and my cheerios will be yummy.  You see, as a mom, you MUST hope for the best.  Because it is simply impossible to prepare for the worst.  You don't know the worst until it's throwing juice cups at your head and causing you to doubt your very existence. 

The following few days got better.  My cuddles became fuzzy again.  My tickles were the funniest and the juice cup was very politely handed to me with the sweetest "mama" that I've ever been called.  We were back on the same page.  But it was the simple hope that things would get better that made my tickles funny.  That made that "mama" so very sweet in my ears.  And it truly is the best when she's happy.

Through this experience, my motto was condensed.  Hope for the best.  Plain and simple.  Don't even think about the worst because it's going to happen whether you prepare for it or not...and you STILL won't be prepared.  Hope for the best.  A mom's words to live by.