Enough is enough... Git R Done

So I guess it's been a few days... but I've felt like blogging, I just had work to do.  I figured I'd take a few minutes out of my life to do some this morning.  It's an exciting week again here at the Ulicny residence.

• My family is coming into town (starting today) for Sean's First Communion (Natalia & Brian, Celianna/Witek & Anneke& Viktor, Sean's "God Family" Angie/Ralf & Ralfer& Julia)
• Sean will be celebrating his first communion on Saturday
• The 7th book of the House of Night series (Burned) is being released today and it shipped from Amazon yesterday!

I really do have a lot of stuff today, but I'm trying to stay focused and maintain my usual air of complete control.  Only, like some who has a head filled with soap bubbles, Steve and I moved a small loveseat from Sean's bedroom on Sunday.  If I didn't have bubbles in my head, I would have waited until tomorrow and conned Brian into doing it.  Now, I'm back to the leg and back pain thing again.

It started Sunday night with my Restless Leg-type symptoms, which is best described as the sensation of something crawling down your leg and you must shake it off. At first I thought, did I forget to take my medicine (no, I had), then perhaps I didn't drink enough water (yes people, drinking water helps your body function).  No, silly, you moved a couch, your L5 & 6 are bulging again and pinching your sciatic nerve. Oh boy... but I don't have TIME for this and it makes me grumpy to not have my life go the right way.

This lead to a BANNER Monday... Steve barely spoke to me after I got so FED UP with Sammie's late-ness that I left her behind and took Sean to school (So Steve took her-- I knew she was safe and would get to school-- Steve thought I was insane)... then I spent an hour menu/grocery planning at a coffee shop in town to waste some time before my Dr appt (you know that talk therapy I value so much), which was scheduled for 9 am.  At 9:15 am, I confirmed with the receptionist that I indeed had the time right then promptly canceled my appointment, refused to pay for the "missed session" and informed her I was not inclined to reschedule.  This was not the first time he was late and if you've read my FB posts, you probably know, I try to live by the "If you're NOT 10 minutes early, you're late" mantra.  And I find lateness EXTREMELY rude.  Just as I turned to leave 2 minutes later, the Dr arrived at the office.  I turned to face him and, likely with steam coming from my ears, told him I had canceled my appointment, because I was tired of having to wait 15-20 minutes each week (his response "Okay") and that I was not rescheduling. His response, "Okay" and he turned and walked away.  Thankfully, he'd moved away from the stairs... because Lent is over and thinking and acting in ANGER is no longer a holy commitment on my part.  Luckily though 40 days of practicing this mantra has left me with a lingering commitment to sustaining it.

Okay! O- Fing- KAY?!  No "I'm sorry you feel that way"  You're a psychologist in a small town with crap for an economy and I'd think you'd be a little more AFFECTED by a patient leaving.  Oh and as he limped off because of his back injury I felt no empathy!  I wanted to trip him and watch him try to get up... because he'd just cost me 1.5 hours of my life and with the way my back injury goes that was 1.5 hours of focused work before my back takes me out for the count.  And I really did not appreciate the feeling of the "pissed off fat lady" (you know, the one at McD's arguing about an order of missed fries and insulting everyone in their path).

But it turned out to be a blessing... why? how?  Well, I stood up for myself: Doormat NO MORE! should be my mantra.  And the first person I called: my older sister.  Yep this has to be a rare and wonderful thing.  There's been way too much space (emotionally) between us for many years and well... it felt good to reach out to someone.  And she listened to me scream in rage into the phone over the insult and rudeness of lateness and the "okay" !  Call #2 was to my parents, initially just to ask my mom to make potato salad for Sean's Communion barbecue (burgers, no ribs), but my dad answered and asked me how my day was going.  I'm sure he didn't want the (censored) earful he got.  However, he listened! I was really anticipating the "well you overreacted again, Alexandra" speech but I got the "atta-girl" instead.  Amen (Blessing #2).  Then at my Monday "Kaffee Klatsch" (this is a German term for coffee gathering-- which is the best way to describe Monday at Lara's), my friends told me, "You're not boring... he's an ass" and good for you for walking out. Amen (Blessing #3).  Yes, I was thrice blessed by my friends and family!

Am I looking for a new therapist... maybe?  A few good Kaffee Klatsch/Lunch/Girls Nights will probably be just as effective and cheaper.  And now I have time for a good work out. (And yes, I took English and know "and" is not how we start a sentence... my grammar is painful, but  if you don't like it... LEAVE!).

I took me a long time to calm down from this yesterday... and then we had Dance-Baseball night #1.  I made it through with flying colors... relocated my upbeat spirit  and am plowing through.  The coach even moved practice to 6:30 pm, instead of 6 pm.  Games will still be at 6, but we've got a little more wiggle room right now!

And yes, Steve and I had quite the spat last night (well really early this morning)... but we're on the same page.  Was there hugging & kissing... no... Steve holds on to things longer than I do and he's really mad at me for leaving Sammie.  Will he come around... maybe?

I'm also still sticking with Hannah's 5-Minute Mom program (Day 10 today).  We're delving into finances... that's my weakness.  It's a total "head in the sand" issue for me.  But I need to take the bull by the horns and make some important changes and decisions in my life.  If you've got  a minute or two, I'd appreciate a little boost of strength and resolve right now... so if you could say a prayer for me, I'd appreciate it.  Feel free to FB me or leave a comment if you want me to pray for you too and what you need right now.  Just because I'm knee deep in my own "shit" does not mean I can try to pull you out of the muck too!  If nothing else, we can laugh together and roll around in it like pigs in the summertime.

So it's only Tuesday and NatiBo arrive later on  today.  I get to HUG some of the most awesome people I know this week... and that my friends makes life worthwhile.  You get what you expect... and I expected my Dr to be late.  Today, I expected Sammie to be on time and by golly,with the help of chore cards, parental guidance (not nagging), and a timer... she made it with time to spare. Now I've got a bedroom to clean up and prepare for my older sister (who I get to hug on Friday)... meals are planned, groceries are bought... everyone's going  to pitch in and WOO HOO... this week's gonna be a good, good week.

Oh and one last thing... Dear L5 & L6... I'm sorry I'm overweight, had 2 babies and didn't take care of you.  I know you're unhappy and hurting.  I promise to lose weight and take better care of you and all your vertebrae friends.  Today, however, I need a little help getting stuff done.  I love you... and I need you to cooperate.

The Sun is Shining... and I want a Nap

I been reflecting a lot this week on what it is I want out of life.  I often feel like, I charged at life as a teenager and hit my "goals" by 23 and since then... I've just been hanging out and winging it.  Not really the best way to live if you want to feel ALIVE and like you're out there doing something. Only I can't seem to figure out what it is that I feel like doing so I can get passionate and behind it.  SO I thought, just for kicks and giggles, I'd just make a list of things I do and can do okay-- but don't necessarily feel a lot of passion about and see if anything jumps out.

• sewing-- It's fun to make something and accomplish a project... I'm just a little weary of the lack of instant gratification and my inability to sometimes understand the directions (I'm constantly doing dumb things like sewing the wrong parts together or cutting the front of a dress right down the middle).  The question is, do I drop this hobby and be content knowing that if need be I can hem a pair of pants or make a skirt? 
• beading-- I really enjoyed making the custom jewelry for my little sister's wedding last year and I LOVE how when I wear any of it, I feel automatically connected to her and to the happiness that was abundant at her wedding(s).  I have so many beads I now feel overwhelmed by them.  And soo many patterns and ideas about things, that I can't seem to motivate myself to make something. It seems they no longer bring me joy.  
• writing... I'm no pulitzer prize winner, but I always wanted to write a book and I keep wondering, what will happen if I do write a book.  So maybe I should well, write a book... I know my mom would buy a copy (and then probably mock me because that's how we show affection).
• full-time momming-- I love my kids, I like being around them, but working from home and being a mom is really rough, I don't feel like I have the ability to focus on what is important.  Right now, I've got breakfast dishes in the sink because I haven't had time to clean up-- I need to work while the kids are gone... When they're home and I"m not working, I feel like they are in the way of me getting all the stuff done that should have gotten done hours ago, but I was working.  
• Full-time working, part time momming-- well I have no idea how this would work out, but thousands of people do it, so I should be ABLE to do it.  What if I'm actually happier not at home with the kids... does that make me a horrible person?

So uhm, I don't feel like I've answered any questions that I have about my life.  I could blame Hannah (see the April 9 posting)... because I followed her Day 3 instructions and bought a watch that chimes every hour.  Now I'm spending my day, smiling at the start of an hour to remind myself to be happy and joyful... yet today, every time it's chimed all I keep thinking is "Smile, Asshole, you're not getting anywhere"  Is today just one of those hiccup kind of days where nothings going wrong, you just feel inconvenienced?  Big Sigh!

I guess, I'm not really feeling upbeat.  Maybe it's the lack of sleep-- now that Sean's staying in his room (but coming down nearly naked each morning, which tells me he's waking up at night and pulling his PJs off), Sammie has decided to come down each night.  Only Sammie doesn't just crawl into bed with you... that would be too simple.  She's "Fancy Sammie" or perhaps in her last life she was a burro.  She comes down with stuffed animals, blankets, pillows and brings them all into the bed with her.  Steve has taken to shoving her and her stuff at me.  Yes, that's really nice (actually it's disturbing because I can tell he's really mad when he does it).  And her teeny little elbows are soo POINTY.  And I just want to sleep!!!

Who IS Hannah Keeley?

In brief, to me, Hannah Keeley is another mom-- a busy mom-- who has been where I am and acknowledges it.  She's figured out a way to get the chaos under control, pay the bills, get a job, home school her children (not a particular goal of mine, really), and not lose herself or her mind.  To me she's a great resource and touch stone, not just of this is how she DID it but this is how she gets it done...


She's authored a few books and I own them... and they really have led me away from negativity.  Now, please keep in mind that 2009 was one ginormous speed bump in my life... well more like "Bridge out Ahead" and no other ones in sight.  Without going into too much detail, and without seeming like I'm not responsible for my actions, in an attempt to solve one problem in my life, I made a minor change... I went from Lexapro to Pristiq to deal with my depression issues.  It eventually caused a physical reaction that led my nurse practitioner to take me off of it... and when the withdrawal symptoms subsided, I looked around my house and thought, "Dear Lord, have we really been living in this disorganized mess... " Only there was a lot more blame and swearing involved and it wasn't like I noticed suddenly but gradually got this sense of the walls closing in on me.  I was mad, I was frustrated, and it was not pretty to watch at all (yet for some reason Steve is STILL here... the man definitely is working on his corporeal works of mercy... I won't go so far as to say "Sainthood" because that's a bit comical).


So, now we've gotten the house cleaned up, the basement de-junked, but the clutter is out of control and the routines I'd gotten into are permanently hosed... so I'm starting over from scratch again. 

As an alternative to replacing the Pristiq my nurse suggested a psychologist (and you don't even want to know what I think about "talk therapy")... well, turns out... I'm NOT manic depressive, nor schizophrenic, nor even depressed.  Yeah, I'm down a lot, and some days I feel out... but the truth is I'm OVERWHELMED... maybe I was before and have been all along, but according to the Doc... it's lead to anger management issues.  LMAO... anyone every been on the receiving end of one of my outbursts would definitely agree... And the key to resolving that issue is to get a higher frustration tolerance and get my life under control.  Instead of trying to juggle all the balls, let a few drop by the wayside.

So... though I love my kids, 90% of my volunteering at St Mary's is now on hold.  Not that I did a lot but for literal sanity's sake, I had to back off.  I'm slowly rolling back out onto the social scene after a few months of purposefully isolating myself... I didn't feel like I could handle a girl's night out (or a trip to visit family in Chicago).  Because I didn't want to bring my worst self to the event.  Now, you get my "I'm okay... but a little nervous" self... and I'm hoping those who meet up with me can accept that.

Yet, I digress, because, well who is Hannah Keeley and what does she have to do with this... generally speaking, I can blow $20 in a heartbeat, and if you multiply that, simply multiply the heartbeats.  So last week, I invested in Hannah's 5 Minute Mom program... and I'm only on day 4 (took the weekend off because of Sammie's party)... but she's not blowing sunshine into the wrong places, but really shedding a light and guiding me to look at the places I need to look .  And can I just say, I love that she's bringing the bible into it.  One of my hugest commitments right now is to stop shrugging my shoulders and walking away from God but to say, "Okay, I'll do it."

In a time management class I took, the only thing I walked away with was the instructor saying, "You can mow the lawn, or you can have fun mowing the lawn."  In some sense, this is Hannah's attitude, but instead of leaving it at that I feel like she's showing me the yard, explaining what needs to be done, helping me put gas in the mower... but ultimately, she's going to let me mow the lawn my way.  So if you're interested, give it a try... I'd love to hear what you think and how it works for you. [And Hannah did say "You get what you expect, not what you want." and that totally defined Sammie's party... I expected awesome and I got it.]

Phew... what a week

As expected, the week was a banner week and I got exactly what I expected.  Hmmm sounds like Hannah Keeley might be right... but that's a blog for another day.

I didn't anticipate during my last blog that we would have another guest in the house this week... he arrived via e-mail and has spent much time in my purse... Flat Stanley.  And compared to a  normal week in my house... it was a good week to be here.  With the trip to U-M hospital and Sammie's birthday, we may even qualify as not entirely dull and boring.  Now I just need to remember to take him  to church with us-- after all it's over 125 years old and is one of the historic landmarks in Jackson... but back to the aforementioned birthday and UM visit.

The trip to U-M was largely uneventful... but in a stroke of genius, I recorded Sean snoring on Tuesday night... it was far more powerful than my impersonation of him snoring and combined with a description of his nocturnal behavior (claiming to swim and coming down to our room or the living room almost every night) helped them take  him a little more seriously.  His tonsils are not significantly oversized and his hearing is just fine.  Instead, they put a 6 inch scope down his nose to look at his adenoids.   Turns out they are indeed oversized.  Hmmm... well, give me a doctorate and let me start charging for consultations, because that is the outcome I expected.  So... we've schedule Sean's surgery for June 24th... and we're going ahead with the sleep study in May (and probably a follow up in July or August).  His Otolaryngologist is concerned that he's active enough at night that he might need to overnight at the hospital after surgery (which at Mott's Children's Hospital at U-M sounds like a freakin' party-- computers, DS games, XBox in your room?!).  Overall, I'm feeling relieved about knowing that a) I was right, b) he's not completely insane or in need of ADD meds, and c) we have a plan in place so there's a light at the end of the tunnel.  And before you think I'm crazy, no it's not my top choice to have Sean need surgery but knowing that he'll feel better (and sleep better) afterwards does bring me some peace!

As to Sammie's party.  It was a success... and by that I mean, no little girls ended up crying at the party... everyone had a good time and things went exactly according to plan and I mean EXACTLY.

The girls made no-sew felt purses while we waited for all the guests to arrive.  It was an excellent way to keep the girls engaged and not have to pull them back form the madness that ensues when they start goofing around.  In other words, fantastic crowd control. My party assistant, Kelly, took charge of the crafts, which was a godsend, because her patience extends beyond mine.  [And Kelly and I have a reciprocity policy on kids parties and have assisted each other for the last few years, since our kids are the same age, so my time will come].

After the purse making, I left Kelly to finish up the straps on the purses and took the girls into the livingroom  where we read a story.  I haven't read a story to a group of girls in quite a while, so it was fun to get to exercise my librarian skills a little.   I used the book to set the tone for the rest of the party.  We're going to have fun and we just aren't fancy ENOUGH quite yet.

We split the girls into 2 smaller groups and one group went shopping, while the other group decorated a mirror with some gemstones.  Sean was our "shop keeper" and set up the store while the girls were listening to the story.  Each girl got to pack their (newly made) purse with a pair of sunglasses, lip gloss, bracelets, a necklace, a plastic ring, and pink feather boa.  It was fun to watch the girls decide (as though this were a really major life decision) which ring, which sunglasses, etc to pack into their purse.

In case your sense of how anal I am wasn't strong enough... I can't stand it when a little girl ends up crying at birthday party over a silly game.  Consequently, we played pin the jewels on the tiara (pretty much like pin the tail on the donkey, but without a winner).  The girls had fun decorating it and seeing where their jewels and feathers landed on the giant tiara I'd made with glitter glue on a sheet of posterboard.Which lead us right into the highlight of the party:  The 2 layer chocolate Fancy Nancy cake from Crazebake!  Afterwards, we wrapped things up with "Fancy Nancy Says" and opening presents.  The pile of presents compared to the number of people at the party (7 other girls) was huge.  Sammie has very generous friends (and family)! And she's still trying to decide which toy to play with next.

Well, I still have a guest in the house... so I should go be a good hostess (and I don't mean Stanley, I mean my mother in law!). And I had several people with their cameras out (a couple of moms hung out during the party, plus Opa and Aunt Alison), but I have yet to see any of them... so I'll be spending this week hunting down those stray photographers and getting copies.

The Trouble with Kids...

So it's going to be a banner week here.  Sammie turns 6 on Thursday and the much anticipated ENT appointment in Ann Arbor is scheduled for Thursday as well.  And we can't forget that the Fancy Nancy-themed birthday party is on Saturday.  I can't decide who's most excited... me or Sammie.  I think, honestly, it's me.  Probably because I have so many surprises up my sleeve... she's going to blow a gasket.

She knows all about the Fancy Nancy party and the dress up part... but she has no idea about the activities I've planned.  The party is themed, and planned, like a wedding... I'm so anal.  [With good reason... a) I hate kids birthday parties where only general mayhem and house trashing is planned and b) my birthday is in July and we were usually moving or traveling for my birthday-- not a lot of awesome parties!]. In addition to the fantabulous cake being made by Dodi Wheeler of CrazeBake... I've got 2 crafts, 1 game, a "shopping trip" and a story reading planned.  I'd say more but some of my followers are coming and though I'm just dying to tell EVERYONE... I don't want to ruin the fun for them.

Some of the things Sammie doesn't know yet... I e-mailed the radio station and asked them to wish her a Happy Birthday and play one of her favorite songs... Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer.  We'll see if she gets the song too but they are pretty good with birthday announcements.  Listen on Thursday around 7:30 am to K 105.3 to see what happens (yes, you can listen live online AND that's EDT zone).

After our Dr appointments, we are planning to meet Aunt Alison and  Steve at Chuck E. Cheese for lunch.  Okay, confession time... I've NEVER EVER been to a Chuck E Cheese.  So this will probably be either really exciting and fun for me or the last time I ever spoil my kids with Chuck E Cheese.  I figure Aunt Alison and Daddy showing up will just make Sammie's day.  (FYI, Sammie and Aunt Alison have a special bond... it's always been that way... so it will be a big treat for Sammie.)

I'm really, really praying something comes of this appointment on Thursday for Sean.  Not so much because I want him to need surgery or medicine... in fact, I'd really like to avoid both of those.  However, right now... my little boy is miserable!  He's stuffed up and since we just switched to flonase (or the generic, rather), he's had a sore throat and upset stomach for 3 days now.  Sean's teacher pointed out they could be side effects  and they are listed as issues.  Quick prayer that BCBSM will accept the prescription for Veramyst now and consider that he's failed on both nasicort and flonase.  Otherwise, I may just bite the bullet and pay out of pocket.  It's not like I have a choice. 

I stopped in for a quick chat with his teacher this morning to give her a heads up on Sean's sad face, bags under his eyes and slow reaction time.  I didn't want her to think we beat him over spring break.  He forgot to tell me that she had to send Sean to lie down for a while because he didn't feel well yesterday (apparently he was doubled over with a stomach ache).  Have I mentioned yet that I love my kids school.  I LOVE that I can check in with the teachers and give them a heads up... especially since Sean's been off and on different allergy/asthma medications all year.  I love that Mrs. Munie keeps an eye on him and lets me know if he's behaving differently (especially since he forgets to tell me).  And she doesn't think I'm crazy when I say... he's miserable and didn't eat dinner or breakfast... she knows I didn't forget to feed him.  It makes me feel better leaving them at school for 8 hours knowing she isn't going to yell at him for staring into space and not being focused today.  [If I'd kept him home every day he was feeling crummy because of his allergies, he'd have missed all of Sept and October and part of March and all of April... not really an option if I'm not home schooling... which in theory sounds wonderful... but I don't think I've got it in me to work from home, keep the kids home, manage the house, etc and not go insane.  I don't know how people manage to home school but I tip my hat to all of you who manage to do it all!].

And honestly, I was worried yesterday that I was being an over-protective Mom, but when other parents in the parking lot at pick up time are asking your kid, "What's wrong buddy, are you not feeling well?";  and your friends are looking at you during your weekly coffee/homework time and shaking their heads saying "he's just not himself"; followed up by his teacher saying, "I'm so glad you came in this morning... here's what happened with him yesterday... what's going on?"  Then I realize... I'm not crazy, I'm not over-protective and most of all I'm not ALONE.  I'm observant and tuned in to my kid... and if keeping him home and holding him and snuggling him all day would REALLY make him better, it's absolutely what I'd do... right now, though, we're 2 days away from another Dr appt and all I can do is pray that we figure out how to make him feel normal again. 

So you're probably wondering what the "trouble with kids" is... the trouble is they steal your hearts and hold them soo tight it feels like you can't breath from loving them so much.  So this week, while it seems I'm completely heartbroken and frustrated over Sean being miserable... I'm also completely elated and joyful that my little girl is going to be 6 and I get to throw her the best birthday party ever.   So for different reasons, I want to snuggle both my kids this week and the laundry and floors be damned... but the trouble is, I have a life to lead, a home to manage, and responsiblities.  So onward I go. 

The Knife Fight in the Kitchen

So just to clarify there really was no knife fight between Steve and I, but to look at us, you'd wonder what we've been doing to ourselves/each other.  Truth is... we are both amazingly uncoordinated (how we managed to have kids, I'll never know, but it was probably like watching a new genre: romantic comedy- porn).

You see what actually happened was... Steve tried to make a Smorgasbord.  If you've hung out around my place lately, you'd find this is my favorite way to feed the kids lunch or a disorganized dinner.  You see nobody likes leftovers and nobody likes just sandwiches.  My solution has been to pull out the largest  cutting board I have and slice up french bread (or some other hearty crusty bread), cheese, sliced deli meat, veggies and fruit.  Then yell "SMORG!!!" at the top of my lungs and chase the kids around the house doing an impersonation of the Swedish Chef "Bord, Bord Bord... smorgasbord." [Oh, I'm sorry did you think I was normal]... On occassion the smorg will involve leftover chinese food, meatloaf, etc... somehow disguised as foreign cuisine... nobody cares and everyone eats it.  

Before anyone attempts to imagine Steve mimicking that whole scene... He got as far as cutting the bread and slicing cheese.  Unlike me, he got out the cheese slicer (I use my Santuko knife for EVERYTHING)... and apparently it's a really sharp cheese slicer because when he got to the Monterrey Jack cheese, he sliced open his left thumb.  Sadly, this lead to later amusement, because I'd invited my parents to dinner. [more on that later]

Coming to my own dangerous experience... I wasn't even using a knife.  Instead, I was making a modified version of Texas Caviar as a side dish with our grilled/rotisseried chickens.  Upon opening up the first can of beans , I grabbed a spoon to scoop those last few black beans out of the bottom of the can.  Being ever unobservant, I felt a paper-cut like sensation on my right middle finger (yes, there's irony to this too)... and realized I had sliced open my knuckle on the lid to the can.  I diligently washed and cleaned the wound and presented it to Steve for band-aid assistance.  The irony here is, it took me 5  minutes to locate him... he was taking a trip to the dump (ahem, making a deposit... ahem, you know, pooping!)... There are times for privacy and frankly people, I was trying to make dinner  and pick up around the house before my parents came over, so sorry Steve... I barged right in, middle finger in the air... "Steve I need your help..." Well, maybe it's not exactly ironic that I needed help with a band-aid on my middle finger while Steve was pooping... maybe it was Murphy's Law... but overall, it was pretty much par for the course around here.

So we invited my parents for dinner... my parents haven't been to the house since January, because they just returned from 2 months in Florida.  Steve wanted to rotisserie a chicken on the grill and had me buy 2 chickens (apparently the rotisserie is more effiencient that way or some such engineering type explanation). However, there's no way the 4 of us can eat 2 chickens (and leftovers would lead to another smorg, which apparently is very dangerous).  I decided  that my role with the chickens was not to micromanage... I'd offer him what seasoning mixes we have, but the whole prep, cook, cut and clean up was on him.  It actually worked out pretty well.  And here's where I get to take credit... I prevented Steve from using his psychic doneness powers (which tend to detect overdoneness) and gave him a instant-read meat thermometer.  The chicken came off the grill at an internal temp of 175 and rested up to 180... perfectly moist and flavorful!  He wanted to leave it on the grill until it reached 180... has this man NEVER watched Alton Brown?  Thanks to my Food Network addiction, we had some GOOD EATS last night.  Had Steve not followed my instructions, perhaps it was the scary glare I gave him, and the meat had been overcooked, there might have been a knife fight in the kitchen... no not really... but I would definitely have cut him with my caustic sarcasm about how juicy the meat ended up.


So if you're wondering how all this ended up being amusing... Steve kept having to touch the raw chicken, which is partially why I recused myself from the situation... I had no desire to reach inside and "save the giblets!"  He found my box of disposable rubber gloves just for this sort of thing (also mixing meatloaf and chocolate chips into cookie dough... ew!). At some point after arriving (and doing her garden inspection tour) my mother noticed Steve was wearing one rubber glove.  I really wanted to tell my mom some ninja movie watching inspired knife fight had ensued and watch her get all flustered, but Steve jumped in before I could explaining it was a cheese slicer and he didn't want to keep getting his hand wet.  Okay, so maybe not quite amusing but it could have been good.  It did distract my mom enough that she didn't notice that there was a real table cloth on the table and that I'd ironed it.  In which case, I had planned to tell he Steve was getting transfered to North Carolina and we were moving.  Yeah, with Natalia moving to Tanzania...that would have been freaking awesome to sit back and watch!

General Literary Rambling

Most people don't know this, but what I really wanted to be when I grew up was an author.  I had a head full of stories and was often in LaLa Land... nowadays, my head is more full of medication schedules (did we give Sean his allergy/asthma meds), activity schedules (can I work 4 hours, make a dr appt and still pick up the kids on time?), meal plans (how often is too often to make tacos?), and other day to day dilemmas that plague motherhood.  Instead of writing my own stories, I spend at least an hour or two a day reading the stories other people write. [Note: No, I usually don't sit for an hour or two reading... I read while kids are at dance, while waiting at the Dr's office, while waiting for the kids to get out of school, etc those caught moments usually add up  to an hour or two a day-- and yes, for a really engaging plot line, I will forgo sleep.]

Like much I do in my life, it's both feet in the water, don't check the depth and hope I remember how to swim... so I've fallen into a reading genre I NEVER imagined I would: Paranormal Romance.  In case you're wondering, this is the same category (albeit young adult fiction) that the Twilight Saga is in.  I surreptitiously started with the Twilight Series-- and was amazed and amused to find how many of my friends had fallen into this series (some even falling passionately in love with Edward or Jacob).  But for me, it turns out, Twilight was the tip of the iceberg.  And I must say, like many things, what  lies below the surface can be so much more engaging and interesting that what rests on top.  Imagine having only eaten chicken nuggets your whole life and then being fed a roast duck.  You're either going to love it or hate it.  Well, in a sense, [Amanda if you key my car for saying this, I will know it's you...]  Twilight is the Chicken Nugget of Paranormal Romances.  Yes, there, I said it... I have sampled other poultry and found you cookie-cutter predictable and lacking in flavor.




Presently I'm just shy of halfway through the 5th book of Richelle Mead's Succubus series, Succubus Shadows, and I'm just loving every moment of it.  Mead has a way of taking Judeo-Christianity, wrapping it in intrigue and throwing in a few steamy scenes to make it interesting.  I've fallen in love with her character, Georgina Kincaid, a succubus with a conscience.  What appeals to me most about Kincaid is not that she is a force of hell who gets to have wild sex with complete strangers and steal souls for Hell.  Nope, not it at all, it's that she knows she's no longer  human yet has forged friendships with people and protects them from her true life.  Wait, did I just say I love a character who's a lying slut from hell... well, clearly I need to explain why.  I can see myself here... no, I'm not a lying slut from hell.  I mean I have lied, but I don't sleep around and I'm a little worried about the ultimate destiny of my soul.  There's something about how Mead has constructed the character that gives you hope for Kincaid's redemption.  After all the cast of characters in the book does include Angels.

I realize if it's redemption I'm interested in, then reading the source (i.e. the Bible) would be a good start.  I didn't say I'm not also doing that as well... but I am enjoying exploring the concepts of heaven and hell in a fantastical (as in based in fantasy) sort of way.  Looking at traditionally recognized Judeo-Christian writings such as The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and the forces of good and evil play out, my wanderings and musings on just what is good and evil and what does this mean for me  are not necessarily giant intellectual leaps. 

I forget now why I called Twilight a Chicken Nugget, but I did say I was rambling, didn't I? Ah yes, now I recall... the Twilight Saga is a well-constructed amusement.  It makes a good movie because it lacks nuance. You can revisit it (either in book or movie format) and discover nothing new.  Like a chicken nugget, it is disposable.  [OMG I'm sorry Amanda... I don't think less of you for loving it so much].  What's truly silly about this pretentious post I've written, is the books I'm reading, while completely engaging to me, will never make the Pulitzer list.

Mad Genius Meets Divine Inspiration...

Does anyone else have flashes of exhausted-Mommy genius in the middle of the night?  I wake up (or am woken up) in the middle of the night with ideas that seem like absolute genius in those pre-dawn hours.  I toss and turn trying to either coalesce the idea or just FORGET it. 


Last night was no exception... around 4 am,  Sean wandered into my bed.  Well, wandering is a polite way of putting it.  I heard him jump out of his bed (his bed is right over my head), pound down the stairs. Then felt him literally bound up to the edge of my bed and dive onto it.  So in a flash of "genius," I asked him "Sean, what are you doing?"  He responded with a disoriented sounding mumble.  I inquired again, "Whatcha doin' buddy?" This time he answered clearly and matter-of-factly, "I'm swimming."

Now, if you're wondering why I considered this a flash of genius, usually I just ignore the guy and try to go back to sleep.  Usually with some half-asleep, mindless  hoping that Steve will take Sean into his room  and back to bed.   The flash of genius is I've never even considered that Sean may have been sleepwalking all this time... that he's not waking up and coming down because of his insane desire to snuggle me and deprive me of precious hours of sleep.  In fact, night after night, he comes down and into our bed, thrashing half the time and  rarely sleeping solidly or quietly.  I've suspected sleep apnea-- but it never occurred to me that there was potentially more going on with his sleep disruption.

Perhaps my flash of insight was a subtle response to my repeated prayer before Sunday mass each week:  "Please God, help open my heart to the blessings of this mass, guide me in my life and help me to be a better wife and mother."   More likely, it was the fact that my mother absolutely pissed me off last night.  When I told my parents that Sean is scheduled for a sleep study at U-M's sleep clinic on May 29th my mother argued with me:  telling me I was being rediculous and why put Sean through this and leave him alone becuase he's fine  [I'm pretty sure a friend has recently had a similar conversation with her MIL about what to do about her child's health/life and is possibly relating to the anger and outrage and WTF feeling].  Anyway... on the way home from my parents, Steve asked me WHY I was doing the sleep study...WOW, thanks for being a parent with me and listening to why I had the pulmonologist go ahead and schedule it (for the record, here it is:).   

We are (as some of you may know) going to take Sean to a Pediatric Otolaryngologist at U-M next week (4/15) [which is fancy for ENT] because I suspect that the source of Sean's sleep issues may be due to enlarged adenoids (which my little sister, his little sister, and I all suffered from).  When Sammie saw the same Dr 2 years ago, she offered us the opportunity to participate in her sleep study prior to surgery, but that Sammie was a pretty clear cut case. It was not required to determine if she indeed had "chronic obstructive sleep apnea" because her tonsils were so large and based on our account of her behavior.  Sean, however, is not such an obvious case.  Time and time again, I've been told Sean's tonsils are not enlarged.  He's a sweet little boy who generally can make it though the day without the rest  of the world knowing he's  a wreck.  He saves it all for us at home.  Aside from age inappropriate temper tantrums,  he's wandering the house at night, has dark circles under his eyes and is diving into my bed more nights than I can recall.  It's also possible that Sean's speech delay (not cognitive, but behavioral) can also be attributed to an ENT issue (this comment was made by his Pulmonologist, I'm not making this up!).  Taking into consideration that Sean may not be as clear cut, medically, as Sammie, I'm getting his butt on the schedule-- has anyone else tried to be a non-emergency case at U-M hospitals-- it's ALWAYS a 6-8 week wait.  If this bumps us up closer to after the ENT visit, then magnificent! I'm doing everything I can prior to the appointment to show, I'm taking my kid's health VERY seriously (and as my sister the nurse said, long term sleep apnea is a major health issue). 

So the point is, if the ENT can find a cause for his potential apnea and not require a sleep study, marvelous... but I suspect that she will schedule a sleep study and the idea that we've already had the allergist AND his pulmonologist point us in that direction lends more weight to that result. Also, I've had a rotten time with our former Primary Care doctor and while part of me has confidence in the ENT (because of how she handled Sammie) there's the part of me that is worried she'll snap at me and dismiss me (yeah, Dr R... you've made me not trust the medical field in general!).

But I've digressed horribly on this topic because my flash of genius did not end with figuring out Sean's dreaming about swimming and possibly sleep walking (this morning, he did remember talking to me but said he couldn't figure out how to describe what he was trying to do).  Sean's bed has had soft, wonderfully comfortable cotton t-shirt sheets on it for YEARS (birth actually)... it's nearly the only kind of sheet we've used.  Have you ever slept on t-shirt sheets? It's amazing, unless  you're dreaming.  In which case, you find yourself horribly stuck in a GIANT wad of fabric.  Could it be, that Sean is dreaming of swimming, running, baseball, etc and tangling himself up in the sheets? Could he be flying out of bed night after night in a massive struggle against the sheet monster (we often hear, "I had a bad dream" as he crawls into our bed)?  Wait for it people, because here's the flash of genius... WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF I PUT REGULAR COTTON SHEETS ON HIS BED?  What if he's  unknowingly coming to our bed because he can MOVE (he kicks A LOT and if you've seen him lately, you can imagine it hurts!)?

Okay, so maybe this flash of insight was part pissed off Mama-Bear behavior and part divine insight and part sleep deprived madness (hence the mad genius meets divine inspiration)... whatever it is, I'll take it. And yes, I'm off to call my mother and see if she has some extra sheet sets she can  loan me and if not... you bet your ass I'm going to buy sheets later!  (Not expensive ones, just solid color, higher thread count sheets).
And for the record... Steve did take Sean back up to his bed last night.

And so it begins...

I'm not really sure why I'm inspired to write a blog... I think it's because of Facebook.

Yes, I know, how can a social networking site... epitome of narcissitic postings... inspire one to write a blog? Well, in my never ending quest to attract more attention to myself, I find the limitations on the size posting to be well... limiting. I mean I can tell you what I'm doing or what is going on or where I am... but it leaves out so much of the WHY... and frankly, it's much more amusing at times to know WHY I am up to what I'm up to... or so I'm told.

Apparently, though I often fail to see what it was that I did, I'm very amusing to people. In fact, I've spent a lot of time wondering if there was toilet paper stuck to my shoe or if, in fact, a large booger is hanging from my nose. Honestly, I'm not trying to be funny... and I don't know why people are laughing. Sometimes, I don't know why I'm laughing... but the alternative, crying over everything isn't helpful either.

So... back to why Blog... well, everyone is doing it. Actually, maybe not everyone, but several people I know or have met and I've literally been blown away by some of the things they've said... mostly because I've had the same thought or the same conversation just recently myself. In a sense, this blog is now my village square. And, unlike FB, you actually have to come here to read it, and it's not served up for you. So if I want to ramble about my kids, my meal planning, my faith, or my Mother... well... you won't be "forced" to read it.

Which leads me to the name of this blog: I thought I was the only nut... [I hope you're following my train of thought, because... uhm... it's not a logical train of thought. In fact, sometimes the train has left and I'm still standing at the station!].

I was chatting (on FB, of course) with my friend Billena (who would not be such a good friend of mine if it weren't for FB-- another long story)... we were discussing the things we do when our husbands leave us alone overnight with our kids to protect. What was funny (as in amusing) about our exchange is that the two of us do the same silly things. Not sleeping, reading all night, keeping a completely useless and ineffective weapon nearby. And Billena remarked "I thought I was the only nutt" (exact quote)... and well... HELL NO... we're all a bunch of nuts. I'm pretty sure my LIFETIME BFF Megan suffers from the same disorder. Honestly, we're not any safer with our husbands home, we only PERCEIVE ourselves as safer. Steve would probably sleep right through our house being robbed blind and then not notice all our stuff was gone.

Now, before we get our panties in a bunch about my disparaging comments about Steve. Clearly, you haven't met him. I'm not disparaging (yet)... he's honestly that unobservant (and a heavy sleeper).

And now I'm to family: I love my family... immensely. I'm not sure I would actually walk through the fires of hell for them (if you ask me in advance), but I would certainly consider it heavily. Hey, I'm honest about my own limitations... but I've also found, when it comes to them, I've made some pretty silly snap decisions. Examples: my mom (who tends towards hyperbole) told me my sister (Celianna) had been having kidney problems and being the closest genetic match, I immediately offered one of my while talking to her. Now, in reality, my kidney was never in jeopardy-- my sister had an antibiotic resistant UTI-- but I didn't know that. I did learn to talk to my sister next time before offering my kidney.

So, if you've made it this far... you may be more serious about this than me... I'm not sure anyone will read it and I'm not sure how often I'll update. Well... here we go... if this lasts... this could be the beginning of a beautiful thing.