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Showing posts from December, 2010

Whoa There, Big GUY!

There has been a mistake at the Survival household. Wanna know why I'm breaking my blogging deprivation vacation? Follow me over to The Peanut Gallery Speaks to see why . . . Please remember to donate for Chickadee's therapy dog.
NOTICE: due to familial complaints, I will be completely unplugged until after the New Year. Three kids on Winter Break, and an unemployed husband leave me no breathing room. Happy Happies! Enjoy and be good.

Owie

I can't remember to buy water softener salt. There aren't any flatbed carts anymore.  The garden center is closed.  Go figure. They expect me to remember to buy it at the end of my trip.  Do any of these people HAVE children?  If so, I doubt they've ever shopped with them. There really isn't room in my minivan, not with the wheelchair and groceries. Ten of those 40 pound bags is really really heavy. They are really heavy. So, when Mr. Survival decided to avoid annoying emails for work  join us on our shopping trip, I was pleased.  To say the least.  Chickadee was at preschool on the old school schedule still, and miss THANG and Beansprout are already out on the new school schedule.  The older two behaved really well, and we loaded up a cart first thing with water softener salt.  So we wouldn't forget. I swear that cart barely withstood us dumping in all that salt.  We bought it right away.  Mostly cause we didn't want to...

Perspective a Step At a Time

Friday night, I cleaned up Chickadee's Gtube, and left her to vent. This helps her "burp" up the air she can't get out on her own. Venting has helped her reflux so much that we've halved her dose of medicine. None of her formula came up, I thought it was weird. But, she needed to vent, and I thought she was just letting up all the air. Anyway, three hours later I'm going to bed. I use my cell phone to light my way and look at the tube. I need to put any fluids back inside to keep the digestive system in balance. Once again, I saw an empty tube. So I removed it. It was dark, I tried to cover up the tube with the gauze, and I felt wetness. "Crap." Yeah. She'd had clear digestive fluid up her tube. I just dumped stomach acid all over her. That's when it happened. The thoughts. "What kind of a . . ." "I can't believe I just . . ." "How could I?" "Why didn't I just turn on the li...
Chickadee had a party. She told me to pitch in on the fun...or get Out. So I left. After an hour. I baked cookies last night. AND did icing. The Real baking ladies. My eyeballs are rolling. Didja remember I also traveled 6 hours? Yeah. I'm hoping to find a way to make up for sleeping through my run...

Round and Round

Today I'm driving to big city. I'm nervous. My thoughts are going something like this: It's not my first time alone.  It's not my first time alone to a new place.  It's not my first time alone to a doctor in the winter scariness. It is the first time in the new house, without family watching the kids.  It's the first time with the new system.  It's the first time with this school, bus, babysitter.  I want it all to go well. I want the problem with the G-tube to be what they thought it was over the phone. I want it to STOP HURTING HER. I want to be the good mom that did the right thing, and not the horrible mom that prolonged suffering.  Most especially, I hope that it's all in working order. I'm a tad high maintenance. I'm just hoping it works out, and that I can still get my 4 mile walk in right now. Help me with happy thoughts! Please remember to donate for Chickadee's therapy dog. *please note: above dog is not said...

I Have Been There

I've been seeing some people talking about pregnancy .  I've also found a new blog  talking about postpartum.  She even has a chat on twitter.  This has sparked memories, and unresolved thoughts. More and more this topic is near and dear.  I just feel for that scared young woman I was, and for the others out there that don't know how to navigate the waters of mental health in and around childbearing. All women need to be aware of their mental health.  It is the barometer of life. Here are my top ten warning signs that mental health needs attention: 10.  Seclusion Friends and family who used to be welcome are no longer so.  Going out becomes oppressive, insurmountable. Unwelcome visitors cause a meltdown after they leave instead of annoyance. 9.  Intrusive thoughts. The thing about a lot of symptom lists is that they sound so detached and sterile. Intrusive thoughts can actually mean that cupcake calling like a siren wooing.  ...

Unexpected Redemption

I have no idea what to write.  Do you? Yesterday I actually did get my run in.  Chickadee got up and was this ENgergizer bunny.  2 hours. Straight.  Whew.  I crawled back into bed, and Mr. Survival moaned, "Your alarm just went off." I moaned too. I decided there was no way.  I have to be responsible for other kids too.  And my behavior.  At least once in a while. Then?  Miracle of miracles, there's a two hour delay for school. I got my run. I guess that's worth writing about.  Huh?   What about you?  Anything inexplicable lately that you're grateful for?  It's so nice to remember those this month.  When we're so busy, and so full of expectations. *Photo by photocillin  Please remember to donate for Chickadee's therapy dog.

Bested

I've noticed that my day is different. There are days that I wake up behind.  I've been up late blogging, or having fun with Mr. Survival.  The worst is when Chickadee needs us two or three times in the night. There are days that I wake up with crystal thoughts. It's basically one of the two.  On the days I can't catch up, I've noticed that the 'victim' thinking is on auto-pilot.  On the days that I feel whole, I do so well in almost everything I try. I'm busily identifying what causes these blackhole days.  It hasn't resulted in anything particularly fruitful yet.  Other than the huge mass under the surface.  You know, my brain.  It's my biggest ally and my biggest enemy. So, some of the biggest epiphanies are quite small when typed out. Believe me though, these are quite revelatory to me. exercise gives me  clarity purpose definition      2.  discouragement gives me pessimism cataclysm surrender N...

Totally Nuclear

I'm better.  It's nice to have a quiet day full of laundry and folding for me to recoup.  Even if Chickadee demanded to go out.  It was great. I also, you'll never believe this, got to go out!  Woo-hoo!  On a girls' night no less!  It was a fan-freakin-tastic time great deal of fun. Thankfully I'm starting to get annoyed with myself about my sugary habits again.  Not only because the Beast has made a reappearance due to my totally going nuclear  depression after Chickadee's regression.  I've been really pondering a lot, and I'm excited in the breakthroughs my brain is coming up with! Per usual. Exercise.  It does a psycho good. I vowed to keep this short.  Why?  Because the fabulous Carla Birnberg aka MizFit is guest posting for my community writing blog The Peanut Gallery Speaks. I know right?  I'm never going to wash it again.  Probably not even wipe it on anything. Please support her wi...

Nunya

So, I'm really feeling it. Today Mr. "I wanna come fix your house" was coming. I get all tense about such things. Because I like my house to be clean for management. Clean. No. Really Clean. My house? Not clean. I'm getting to be okay with that. It's the way things are, just like my priorities to write, blog, and exercise make life better. I need to be more focused on my childrens' mental, emotional, physical well being than carpets. Yes, I have a mantra for it. Anyway, I was trying to be out of the house. I just don't like the guy anymore. He's belligerent on the phone. Loud. Makes me repeat things. Acts incredulous to reasonable requests. I've thought it over, and the kind voice in my head whispers that he is probably experiencing hearing loss which makes telephone talking difficult. Which makes him grumpy cause he doesn't want help. It doesn't make me want to talk to him on the phone though. Or tolerate his jud...

From Doormat to Tapestry

Lately I've been standing up for myself. I'm not sure what I really sound like if the real person isn't behind my words.  In reality I'm a scaredy cat pansy.  I retreat from confrontation, and I will accommodate just about anything or anyone if it means they will leave me alone without criticizing me.  I do think constructive criticism is valuable. I've just had more than my fair share of criticism in general. Oh, boo-hoo poor wittle JBS.  That's what I think straight off the bat when I think about why I shy away from criticism.  It's something that is almost as easy as being able to eating sugar in a balanced way. It's about as easy as finding Santa with unicorns driving his sleigh. Mostly it's been about defining who I'm okay with coming to my house and why I'm okay with it.  Or when I'm okay with it, and how long.  I was asked unexpectedly told I would have a visitor[s] for two to three weeks over Christmas. Instead of jus...

My Evening Last Night Was Spent...

Josie, at Yum Yucky sent me a link to this. It's fandangtastick! You all (that celebrate of course) should send it to some child that might enjoy it. If you're celebrating the festival of lights, then Happy Hanukkah to you! If you're not celebrating either one, I think we all should emulate your peacefulness. Indeed.

Runnin on High

Today, I am running the first day of the second week of training in the C25K program.  I got last week done, but just barely under the crazy definition.  I'm hoping my friend MrsFatass  is still alive after her half marathon, and that my family survives a little bit of trauma. Who am I kidding?  I hope we don't have any casualties.  Wanna know more? Meanest Mommy Ever "She would never have a qualm sending you off to do something difficult.  The meanest Mommy ever doesn't care if you're hurting.  I think the meanest Mommy ever lives for your pain.  It makes her feel better.  I wish I was her today. . . " follow me over to The Peanut Gallery Speaks   to see why. I'm also over at my friend Morgan's  blog today.  Her daughter had surgery at the tender age of 16.  Give her some support won't you?   Surgery at such a young age, with such  drastic recovery times is hard enough.  At the holidays? ...

Whimsy

Well, I didn't do it. No run. But, I'm banking on this morning. Chickadee's had me to chaperone her at her early morning soiree's for almost a week now. She's gotta blink soon. Right? Mr. Survival arrives sometime along about noon today. Ending my misery in so many ways. Plus, the garbage is no longer a problem, so our marriage might as well be nominated for something. It would win today. Another HUGE thank you to all that donated to Chickadee's therapy dog fund. You are all amazing! We doubled the amount raised! (It'll be so much harder to say that later. Let's enjoy it today) Our little town has a First Friday event downtown, where all the stores are sponsoring free gifts for children to make. I'm going to take some fliers to all the stores and see what we can do. In the meantime, doesn't this look fun? I was idling away the evening without Mr. Survival doing research and I found swissmiss . She is delicious eye candy....

Therapeutic Journey

*photo by pmarkham So, here I sit on the edge of the bathtub.  At 4:44 AM no less, just as I have been all week.  We've graduated to Chickadee using Netflix on my iPhone, and me grabbing my laptop to write a post.  It's the only time it's going to get done anyway.  She hates when I'm asking her in ever increasing moments, "Are you done?  Hit mommy's hand if you're done."  Half the time I swear she hits my hands or looks in my eyes as requested simply to get me to shut up.  Ten minutes later she needs a new diaper, but at least mommy's out of her face! It could be worse, yesterday she did it at 2:30 AM.  I've been an insomniac this week and hadn't gotten to sleep  until the depths of 11:00 PM  in spite of being in bed at 8:30 PM .  So, yesterday was rotten, because 4 o'clock seems to be an hour Chickadee loves dearly and woke early to see it too.   All this is to say that I feel guilty for missing my workout yesterday. ...

Queen Decimates Minions

*photo from here Um Hi. I live in the Journey household?  Yeah, it’s just beyond Survival?  Yes.   Well, I have a contract with you people.  A contract for trash.  I don’t know if I’ve been told the wrong date, or what, but I’ve got trash coming out of my ears! I’ve had the trash out at the curb with plenty of time.  There is no reason this should happen for going into three weeks now! If there isn’t a truck picking up my trash today, I will be using another service immediately. K thanx Bye *** what i didn’t say *** Mr. Survival promised as religiously as he said his prayers (which is a lot) that he was going to get me my trash.  By which he meant, I was going to have all my garbage taken away.  Until he completely vacated his previous building, we were able to stuff the dumpster there.  But since he was disassembling an entire workplace, the dumpster left with the money.   It’s not that hard to say no.  Really it isn’t.  I...