Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Still Pausing

Hello, readers,

I'm here to tell you that I am still on medical leave from writing.  So sorry!  The back thing has snowballed into all kinds of weird symptoms that leave me unable to focus, and make me a complete nervous wreck.  Do a google search on "hysterical bloating" and you'll get an idea of what I'm dealing with.

I hope to be back soon, 'cause I can't take much more of this shit.  Wait for me, will you?

Monday, September 17, 2012

A Pause in the Action

Hey Peeps,

I'm going to be laying low for a while.  This back thing has taken over my life, and all the drugs make me type like this: dsaitn ;a lent;aiot.

I have some good stuff for you, tho, so check back and stay tuned...

Thursday, September 13, 2012


That night I couldn't sleep and was obsessed with repainting that dresser, I watched about a dozen Youtube videos on how to do it.  I made some decisions about how I wanted to do it, and I made a list of supplies I'd need.  I finally went back to bed at 2, and was asleep by 2:30.  Rob indulged me the following day by taking me to the paint store and getting everything on the list. (Tangentially, the paint store guy told me that they can put any color paint you want in a spray can!)  Rob then set up a work table with the dresser outside so all I had to do was sit down and start sanding.

I didn't start sanding, though.  It seemed kind of depressing to do it alone, especially since I really don't know what I'm doing, in spite of Youtube's best efforts. 

Yesterday, a friend of mine who has experience doing this stuff came over to help.  How awesome is that?  She just went down into the yard and started sanding.  It was so easy!  I thought sanding would take forever, and it was the easiest part!  She pointed out that when you are sanding for repainting, its not that big a deal versus sanding for staining.  Easy! 

Then I primed the thing!  I couldn't believe it!  I feel like, when my body is back to normal, I could refinish furniture every day!  I really wanted to paint it, too, but by the time it was primed, I couldn't even sit anymore, let alone stand, and it seems to have wiped me out for today too.  So maybe this weekend it will get painted and sealed and I will have a custom piece of yellow furniture for my front hallway!  So excited!!!

Here it is half done.  Not a great pic since I couldn't drag myself all the way down there.  Love it!!!

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Good Mom/Bad Mom?

Leila woke up to day not feeling well.  She has a sore throat and wanted a lozenge first thing.  Then she dragged around and whined, but ate her breakfast and got dressed.  She actually said the words, "I don't want to go to school, I want to go back to bed."  She never says that kind of stuff.  She is all go the minute her feet hit the floor in the morning.  I said that kind of stuff every day when I was her age.  I never wanted to go to school.

She did not have a fever, but I gave her some Advil for her throat and her general malaise, crushed up in vanilla yogurt since she will not even entertain the idea of learning to take a pill.  She has just given up on that possibility for life, and thinks that when she's 30 she will just crush up pills in yogurt.  I even bought tictacs so she could practice, and it was the most dramatic act of swallowing - or rather, attempted swallowing - anyone has ever seen.  Gagging, tears, sheesh.

Before I realized she really wasn't feeling well, I yelled at her for leaving a pair of dirty undies on the floor of her closet less than 24 hours after I told her not to do that anymore, and less than 24 hours after I'd cleaned out her drawers.  I had just put a white load in.  Its so annoying!  She wanted to explain how they got there, but I assured her there was no possible explanation that would make it okay to not put dirty undies in the hamper that is right across the hall from her room.  I told her the next time I found dirty undies on the floor, she would have to give me $5.

Her walking buddy was ten minutes late, and Leila looked like she was going to cry when I shoved her out the front door. 

I don't really have a lot of moments when I doubt my mothering.  I probably should, but I have a maybe unreasonable confidence in my parenting.  But this morning, I had doubts.  Should I have kept her home?  Did I need to yell about underwear?  Did I need to nag her about her back pack?  She had a crap morning, and I just told her, "You'll make it, you'll be fine, have some Advil."

After she was gone, I noticed she had forgotten her lunch.  She really didn't need that this morning.  So I threw on some sweats, and hopped in my car wearing my slippers and drove toward the school and intercepted the girls at the shopping center and handed her her lunch, which she hadn't noticed she'd forgotten. 

Does that redeem that bad mom part?

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

DIY Dreams in an Invalid World

Its 12:23 a.m. on Sunday morning as I write this.  I can't sleep.  I'm on drugs, for pain and for sleeping, and the pain part is sort of working, but not the sleep part.  I had a really good night's sleep last night, so maybe that's all I'm gonna get this weekend.

My mind is just racing around.  What I'm thinking about most is refinishing that yellow dresser I got at a garage sale a few months ago.  This is what happens when you're flat on your ass and there's a Sarah's House marathon on HGTV.  Get me to a hardware store, followed by a fabric store, followed by a paint store before I just explode with all these creative DIY ideas!  DIY ideas that I cannot execute myself because I'm flat on my ass watching HGTV.  Add an hour or more of looking at Pinterest gardening boards and you've got yourself a honey-do list a mile long.

Then the husband comes in, tired from the honey-do list you gave him today, and you make him look at rugs.  He reminds you that the last Visa bill was hum-dinger, and that maybe you should wait and not be so impulsive, but he eventually relents and says, "Fine, order the rug." and you try to, but the size you want is sold out.  You're actually kind of relieved, because you were being impulsive, and you know that you've already ordered those throw pillows off Etsy without your husband's knowledge. 

So now I'm in that non-sleeping state where my mind is just repeating the same thoughts over and over again.  Here is an excerpt of the current loop running in my mind: Let's see, I will start with some steel wool, then 150 or 175 sand paper, maybe both.  But I'll need a piece of poster board to cut out a template for the glass top.  I'll need a ziplock bag for the hardware, too.  Should I paint the feet the same color as the rest of the dresser or spray paint them burnished bronze?  Maybe I should do a white chevron pattern on the top.  That wouldn't be too hard.  Should I spray it or paint it?  Painting would be more accessible, but spraying might work better with all that scrolling.  I could go on, but since I'm already so bored of it, I can only imagine how you probably feel.

So, no decorating shows tomorrow?  More sleep aids?  Less coke?  I don't know.  I'm hoping that since I've written all this down now I can get it out of my head and sleep.  My cat is very agitated that I am awake.  I think he's more agitated than I am.  I've just got tons of energy right now.  I wish I could just go get that dresser and start sanding it RIGHT NOW.  But that would be ludicrous.


Monday, September 10, 2012

How Does He Do It?

I have been a stay-at-home mom for almost 8 years.  At this point, pretty much unemployable in my old profession, which is okay because I don't ever want to go back to my old profession.  I think I was pretty good at my old career, pretty resourceful, faked it, and learned a lot on the job.  Once my boss walked in and said "I need you to set up and manage our stock purchase program." and I was all, "Okay, sure, no problem." and then I went on the fledgling internet and looked up what a stock purchase plan was.  I figured it out, and it all worked fine, and I pulled that rabbit out of my hat a bunch of times over the years I worked at that place.

I've been doing this stay-at-home mom thing for longer than I had that last job, and there are things I still haven't figured out.  I have made it up as I've gone along, but there are some big chunks I've overlooked.  Maybe its all this mothering that's been distracting, or the blogging, or the facebooking, or the sitting on my ass in front of the TV.  Anyway, one thing I have never been able to learn is how to plan dinner, make dinner, eat dinner, clean up after dinner, and, above all, go grocery shopping.

My family is not starving, and we usually have eggs and milk in the fridge, and the animals all have their respective gluten-free foods, but these weeks that I've been laid up have really pointed out to me that I suck at this whole food thing.

Rob has taken over this part lately, and the man is a master.  We have food in the house!  I go to make some lunch, and there's food in the fridge that I actually want to eat!  And then I eat it!  And its good!  And then in the evening he comes home, and bangs around in the kitchen and comes out with dinner!  Good dinner!  Balanced meals even!  Vegetables!  Last night, he made cheeseburgers with tater tots and steamed broccoli (he's always looking out for my colon) and the night before he made sausages with saute├ęd Brussels sprouts and bacon, and a salad. Monday night we had leftover curry that he made over the weekend, and Tuesday we had pulled pork sandwiches. Then he turns around and cleans the kitchen, and then we even have dessert!  Its a revelation!

Trader Joes has been very helpful.  He went there last weekend and stocked up, and everything looks so appetizing and easy, and he was just inspired.  We have snacks and fruit and beverages, everything normal families have in their pantries and refrigerators all the time.

I don't know why I can't do this.  I know I do not like to start cooking at 5:30 in the evening (or 6:30 like Rob does, even worse) and when I go to the grocery store I only stock up on enough things for other people's lunches for the week (never my own) and maybe what we'll have for dinner that very night.  My repertoire is pretty limited, I guess.  Rob says I can't find the middle ground between making a grand recipe requiring special cuts of meat, and having cereal for dinner.  He's right.

My favorite dinner preparation is to be inspired by a recipe I see, or the weather, or the time of year (November is chicken-pot-pie month in our house) and then go to the store, get what I need for that recipe, and spend the morning listening to music and preparing it.  Then it sits on the stove all day, melding away, and by dinner time it is delicious and wonderful, and everyone oohs and ahs.  That's what I like.  Trouble is, it ends up meaning a lot of frozen dinners and take out in between flashes of inspiration and rainy weather.

I have to work on this.  I don't really want to work on this.  I really don't like peeling myself off the couch at 5:30 and cooking.  Maybe I don't have to work on this.  Maybe I can just continue to do it my way, and hand the rest over to Rob.  He's so good at it.  He makes it look so easy.  He doesn't seem to mind it, either.  Its only been a week, though.  Eventually, he will get sick of coming home to his wife and child in a heap on the couch watching cooking shows saying, "What's for dinner?" right?

Yes, probably.  And I can't blame him.  But for right now I don't really have a choice, so I'm just going to continue licking my chops and praising him.  Tonight he has softball, so its sandwich night.  But I just got invited to a friend's house for dinner.  My friends are taking pity on me, or maybe on Rob. Its hard to tell.

Friday, September 7, 2012

How Many Cupcakes is Too Many Cupcakes?

I'm not going to talk about my foot again, but I will talk about drugs.  My days right now are all about chronicling which drug I take when, and how many, and finding the right balance between prescription and over-the-counter to manage pain.  I'm doing okay.  A side effect of one of the drugs is depression and suicidal thoughts; I haven't thought about killing myself yet, but I am blue.  Last night  I watched that show on OWN where they are counting down the best moments of the Oprah Winfrey Show, and that little Matty Stepanic really got me going.  Then I cried because Rob made such a good dinner. 

The hardest part has been making it all the way through the night without pain, without waking Rob up.  Poor guy is working all day, taking care of me and the kid all evening, squeezing in a workout or some softball, and then crashing into bed.  He's been truly wonderful.  I have this hydrocodon to help with pain and sleep, but I'm afraid of becoming addicted to pain killers and winding up on Intervention.  I can so see how this happens; you just want to effing sleep and have some relief, so you take narcotics every night and the next thing you know you're on a plane to some rehab center in Phoenix. 

So instead of heading down that road, I took two Tylenol PM.  Jee -zuss.  It did get me through the whole night, and knocked me out most of the day, too.  I got L off to school, walked the dog around the block for the first time in 6 weeks, and then slept soundly on the couch for two hours while gardeners used blowers and chain saws in my own backyard.  I will probably go to sleep again right after I'm finished writing this, and those two Tylenol PM from last night might take me all the way through until tomorrow.

When I finally pried my eyes open at noon, I was hungry.  So I ate a salad and some left over pulled pork.  But it wasn't enough.  Remember how I made that emergency chocolate cake with mayo the other day during my cake crisis?  Today I made vanilla cupcakes, with actual butter this time, and they are so fucking fantastic I want to eat them all right now.  I didn't have enough cupcake liners, so I made half a recipe.  If there are any left by dinner, it will be a miracle.  I've had at least 4 of them so far.  Probably more, but who's counting?

I'm on steroids for pain right now, so I'm blaming that.  I did walk around the block this morning so I probably burned off about 20 calories worth of those cupcakes in advance.  Leila and a friend are playing in the backyard, and have walked right by the cupcakes several times without noticing them.  They're not frosted (the cupcakes, not the children) so they probably can't even see them.  Kids are all about the frosting, I am all about the cake.  Not that I am anti-frosting, but that was way too much work and I need a nap. 

ADDENDUM:  Kids just noticed the cupcakes.  When they threw their wrappers in the trash, L's friend looked at all the crumpled cupcake liners from my eating extravaganza and said, "Wow.  She sure at a lot of cupcakes..."

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Number Three

You know how I've been seeing odd people?  Like the guy that called in my license plate, and the guy walking down the street with a rabbit?  Well, there was one more. 

I don't want to goof on it, because it is a real disability, but I saw a blue person.  There's a disease or syndrome or whatever called Argyria, which comes from over exposure to silver or other metals or something and it can turn your skin blue.  I saw it once on Oprah.

I was picking up some buttery baked goods one morning a few weeks ago, and there was a blue lady eating breakfast.  Really, I swear.

Its always so hard to not stare and ask questions when you really, really want to.  But I was good.  Got my baked goods and went along my way.

So: to sum up: a crazy license plate-calling-in guy, a guy walking his rabbit, and a blue person.  Do odd things like this come in threes? Because then I should I be done.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Just One More

I told myself I was not going to write about my foot anymore.  No one wants to hear it.  We are all far too young to start hearing about each others ailments.

But then yesterday happened, and I can't not write about it.  Sorry.  This should be it, not to worry.

Remember how I told you I was having a touch of sciatica?  (I know: how old am I?  70?  80?)  well that touch went completely off the rails on Thursday night.  The last time I had pain like that, they handed me a baby when it was over.  My whole leg, from my butt to my big toe, hurt like a mother fucker, and, unlike labor, there was no relief. It was constant.  I was awake most of the time, moaning intermittently, getting up to walk back and forth in the living room while crying and quietly cursing my husband for being asleep, which he really wasn't.  I tossed and turned and cried and neither one of us slept.  I didn't want to take my hardcore pain pills because I have a child that I have to drive to school in the morning and I thought it would not be a good idea to get a DUI.  Or kill a family of five with my station wagon.

So Rob called in late to work and got Leila out off to school, and we called the Dr.  Not Dr. Douchebag, but my neurologist, Dr. I-love-her.

She sent me to the emergency room.  Yes, the emergency room.  You may remember that most of the time that I go to the emergency room, nothing good happens.  They make me stay there and have IVs and stuff.  No sir, I don't like it.  But off we went, anyway.  They checked me in, I met my nurse and Dr., both nice, and they gave me two shots of Dilaudid.  I recently found out that Dilaudid is pharmaceutical heroin.  Now, I don't endorse the use of recreational drugs (except pot, sometimes) and I would never encourage anyone to try heroin, but, dude, I completely understand the allure.  Its so wonderful, especially when you've been in extreme pain for 12 hours.  I love you, Dilaudid, you complete me.

They didn't make me stay there, or get an IV, and I got to go home, with my leg pain all but gone, and high as a kite.  I slept all afternoon, and then, as it was my 16th wedding anniversary, we had a special thai dinner in bed, the I dozed through Sports Night on Netflix, and then I had the best night's sleep I've had in weeks.  And just enough heroin left in my body to have NO PAIN!

Today, I feel good, but I'm not going to be an idiot.  I'm keeping my foot up, keeping up on my meds, and taking it super easy.  I'm watching TV with one eye, and shopping for rugs on the internet with the other.  I have a curled up kitty and a bowl of Starbursts, and all is good with the world.