My depression has been pretty bad lately and especially this week. I need to get out of the house and I also have very little desire to do anything or eat or much of any usual behaviors. So I've found that lunch out gets me out of the house, prompts me to eat, and also takes care of the so lazy that I might just give the boys junk for lunch.
Well, we tend to do the Pizza Hut buffet when we go to lunch. There aren't a lot of options in our town and I don't care for typical fast food places so that's a compromise that isn't too costly.
When we went today, we walked in and were greeted with a 'hello' and then an "I'll grab you a high chair". Then I hear the woman say, "Tell Connie her regulars are here and I'm putting them at their usual booth."
Our sweet waitress, a young girl named Connie, brings my boys their half glasses of water, my regular Pepsi, and the two small plastic cups for sauce that my boys like to use for dipping. She then proceeds to greet Carson and Nathan by name.
After I get the boys some pizza and sit down, Carson points to a group of Sheriffs deputies and says, "Hey my policemen are here again too." So at least we're not the only regulars around there.
While part of me knows that it means we are there WAY too often, it's also nice to be recognized and appreciated as a customer and have a part of my day where I feel relaxed and see smiles all around.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Okay, which organ are we supposed to take out?
In February of 2006 around 8 pm I started having horrible stomach pains and I felt like I had to throw up and also like I needed to poo. It got worse and worse to the point where I was up all night and crying and shaking and having difficulty even standing up. I was hot and vomiting. Finally after hours of this and a couple hours of telling Greg that we were not going to wake up Carson (who was not even a year old yet), I decided to drive myself to the local ER.
Dumb idea. I was driving there about 3am; crying, shaking, trying not to vomit in the car and truly believing there was a major problem. As I drove, I passed a police car and kept praying he would pull me over. I was in so much pain that I couldn't even think straight and figure out that I could just stop by the policeman and tell him I needed to go to the ER. I finally got to the hospital and parked in the regular parking area, not the ER pull-up. I tried to exit the car and fell to the ground. I could not get up, there was no one around, so I crawled through the snow (no hyperbole here folks) into the ER. The nurse made me sign in. Oh yes and the *itch even made me give her my insurance card and such before I was taken back to a room.
I was sitting on the bed and a very grouchy nurse came in to start an IV. I was sitting still and crying and just saying over and over, "it hurts, someone help me". I knew she was there, but when you're in pain sometimes repeating things over and over is a distraction. The nurse snapped at me and said, "I'm trying to help you!"
I called my parents who live about 30 or so minutes away because I was still not willing to let Greg wake up Carson and bring him to the ER. My parents arrived quickly and the hospital had still done nothing at this point except give me a mild pain medicine and fluids. I had not even see the doctor yet or even had someone so much as push on my belly.
Shortly after my parents arrived the doctor came in and said they were sending me for a CT scan. I had a regular CT scan of my abdominal area with no contrast or anything. No other tests were done. After this CT the doctor came in and informed us that the test was inconclusive. There was nothing on the test to explain the pain. He told my mother that when that happens it's appendicitis and that an infected appendix is usually inconclusive. He told my parents and I that my appendix had to be removed immediately and he'd already contacted the surgeon.
Now this town we live in is small, very small, still full of farm supply stores and the like. This is not much of a hospital and not affiliated with any other area hospitals or doctors. My mom was concerned and asked that I be transferred to another hospital. The doctor looked my mother in the eye and told her there was no time for that and I would likely die in transit.
So I was rushed to surgery in this little town before sunrise that Monday morning. After the surgery, I was admitted for observation. I was feeling all better and thought well, I it all worked out. The surgeon came in later that day and told me that my appendix was sent to pathology and they would contact me with the results, but that my appendix appeared normal and healthy.
????? I thought, I have no idea WTH that means, but figured, hell the pain was gone so woohoo I'm happy.
Almost exactly one month later, I was at work and the pain came back. I was alone in my classroom and I crawled on the floor to the door and asked a student in the hallway to help me to the office. The student got another teacher who helped me and another teacher drove me to my regular doctor. He immediately sent me for an u/s. Within just a couple minutes and a very cheap and simple ultrasound I was told I had a gallbladder that was stretched and completely full of small-medium sized gallstones. I was given some pain meds and had a surgery scheduled to remove the gallbladder a few days later.
So a few morals here:
*Don't ever drive yourself to the ER when you can barely stand
*Don't ever go to a hick town ER if you can at all help it
*Don't have your appendix removed without a complete battery of tests
*Make your doctor start with the simple tests first
and last, but not least
*Sometimes the prospect of 'dying in transit' is the better option. hehe
BTW- I did not have to pay anything for that 'appendix' trip after a couple of phone calls were made.
Dumb idea. I was driving there about 3am; crying, shaking, trying not to vomit in the car and truly believing there was a major problem. As I drove, I passed a police car and kept praying he would pull me over. I was in so much pain that I couldn't even think straight and figure out that I could just stop by the policeman and tell him I needed to go to the ER. I finally got to the hospital and parked in the regular parking area, not the ER pull-up. I tried to exit the car and fell to the ground. I could not get up, there was no one around, so I crawled through the snow (no hyperbole here folks) into the ER. The nurse made me sign in. Oh yes and the *itch even made me give her my insurance card and such before I was taken back to a room.
I was sitting on the bed and a very grouchy nurse came in to start an IV. I was sitting still and crying and just saying over and over, "it hurts, someone help me". I knew she was there, but when you're in pain sometimes repeating things over and over is a distraction. The nurse snapped at me and said, "I'm trying to help you!"
I called my parents who live about 30 or so minutes away because I was still not willing to let Greg wake up Carson and bring him to the ER. My parents arrived quickly and the hospital had still done nothing at this point except give me a mild pain medicine and fluids. I had not even see the doctor yet or even had someone so much as push on my belly.
Shortly after my parents arrived the doctor came in and said they were sending me for a CT scan. I had a regular CT scan of my abdominal area with no contrast or anything. No other tests were done. After this CT the doctor came in and informed us that the test was inconclusive. There was nothing on the test to explain the pain. He told my mother that when that happens it's appendicitis and that an infected appendix is usually inconclusive. He told my parents and I that my appendix had to be removed immediately and he'd already contacted the surgeon.
Now this town we live in is small, very small, still full of farm supply stores and the like. This is not much of a hospital and not affiliated with any other area hospitals or doctors. My mom was concerned and asked that I be transferred to another hospital. The doctor looked my mother in the eye and told her there was no time for that and I would likely die in transit.
So I was rushed to surgery in this little town before sunrise that Monday morning. After the surgery, I was admitted for observation. I was feeling all better and thought well, I it all worked out. The surgeon came in later that day and told me that my appendix was sent to pathology and they would contact me with the results, but that my appendix appeared normal and healthy.
????? I thought, I have no idea WTH that means, but figured, hell the pain was gone so woohoo I'm happy.
Almost exactly one month later, I was at work and the pain came back. I was alone in my classroom and I crawled on the floor to the door and asked a student in the hallway to help me to the office. The student got another teacher who helped me and another teacher drove me to my regular doctor. He immediately sent me for an u/s. Within just a couple minutes and a very cheap and simple ultrasound I was told I had a gallbladder that was stretched and completely full of small-medium sized gallstones. I was given some pain meds and had a surgery scheduled to remove the gallbladder a few days later.
So a few morals here:
*Don't ever drive yourself to the ER when you can barely stand
*Don't ever go to a hick town ER if you can at all help it
*Don't have your appendix removed without a complete battery of tests
*Make your doctor start with the simple tests first
and last, but not least
*Sometimes the prospect of 'dying in transit' is the better option. hehe
BTW- I did not have to pay anything for that 'appendix' trip after a couple of phone calls were made.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Cute Question
Today at lunch Carson told me that milk comes from cows and then proceeded to ask, "What animal does water come from?"
'It comes from the ocean, lakes, rivers.'
"Who put it in there????"
"God"
"Well, that was silly of him."
'It comes from the ocean, lakes, rivers.'
"Who put it in there????"
"God"
"Well, that was silly of him."
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Kiss and Make-Up
After our Easter morning at home, I dressed the kids for Mimi and Grandpa's house and after I went to get myself presentable for the family holiday get together.
I got dressed, brushed my hair (though still it's usual pony tail), and put on make-up.
As I was making sure we hadn't forgotten anything, Greg put the boys into the car. I got into the car and Greg ran into the house for the one thing we'd forgotten. I turned around to tell Carson where his daddy had gone and he said, "Mommy, what's wrong with your eyes?" I was perplexed and looked into the rearview mirror. I didn't notice anything. I said, "What do you mean?" He replied, "What's wrong with them? Why are they like that?"
I realized that I was wearing make-up. Including eyeshadow. All for the benefit of my mother.
As you can surmise, make-up is a very rare thing for me. Almost as rare as my hair not being in a pony tail. I am the 'before' woman in the Suave "Motherhood isn't Always Beautiful" campaign.
I got dressed, brushed my hair (though still it's usual pony tail), and put on make-up.
As I was making sure we hadn't forgotten anything, Greg put the boys into the car. I got into the car and Greg ran into the house for the one thing we'd forgotten. I turned around to tell Carson where his daddy had gone and he said, "Mommy, what's wrong with your eyes?" I was perplexed and looked into the rearview mirror. I didn't notice anything. I said, "What do you mean?" He replied, "What's wrong with them? Why are they like that?"
I realized that I was wearing make-up. Including eyeshadow. All for the benefit of my mother.
As you can surmise, make-up is a very rare thing for me. Almost as rare as my hair not being in a pony tail. I am the 'before' woman in the Suave "Motherhood isn't Always Beautiful" campaign.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
The Essence of Romance
What is romance? To me it's not flowers on Valentine's Day, that's a waste of money for roses that have been marked up extremely high just for this day.
It's not jewelry, any man and most men can go to the mall and pick out something shiny.
Now, if you love a Gerber Daisy and your man surprises you with one or several on a random day in September, that's romance. If he gets you a special jewel or setting that symbolizes something unique and meaningful, that's romance.
BUT, no man is as romantic as my man. He knows that romance is about doing something unexpected, unique, and truly meaningful. Something that says, 'I've listened to you. Watched you. Heard what you said. Saw what you need.'
The two most romantic things Greg (and any man I know) have ever done:
When we were early in our dating period, Greg surprised me with a little Easter basket. One of the items was a large bag of Starburst. I thought it was so sweet because I hadn't even remembered telling him they were my favorite candy. A little later we were on the couch and I opened the bag. I was very confused. They were all pink and orange. It took me a few seconds to realize that he must have done this. My sweet new beau had bought a few bags of Starburst, split a tiny hole in one and removed all of them. He then used all the bags to refill the one with only my two favorite flavors and carefully glued the bag back together so I would never notice.
Most likely none of you will understand why this next gesture was so special, but here goes. When we lived in SC I was incredibly ill from allergies. I had lived months with sinus infections and respitory infections. I was on meds, an inhaler, shots, and kept humidifiers with Vicks in my classroom and home. My allergist finally told us to move. One night I was crying, coughing, and wheezing. I couldn't find Kleenex in the room I was in and had to go to the other room to get some. I made a comment about needing Kleenex in every room of the house. I came home from work the following day to find boxes of Kleenex everywhere in our tiny apartment. There must have been at least 30.
Brag on your special guy or gal. What have they done special for you?
It's not jewelry, any man and most men can go to the mall and pick out something shiny.
Now, if you love a Gerber Daisy and your man surprises you with one or several on a random day in September, that's romance. If he gets you a special jewel or setting that symbolizes something unique and meaningful, that's romance.
BUT, no man is as romantic as my man. He knows that romance is about doing something unexpected, unique, and truly meaningful. Something that says, 'I've listened to you. Watched you. Heard what you said. Saw what you need.'
The two most romantic things Greg (and any man I know) have ever done:
When we were early in our dating period, Greg surprised me with a little Easter basket. One of the items was a large bag of Starburst. I thought it was so sweet because I hadn't even remembered telling him they were my favorite candy. A little later we were on the couch and I opened the bag. I was very confused. They were all pink and orange. It took me a few seconds to realize that he must have done this. My sweet new beau had bought a few bags of Starburst, split a tiny hole in one and removed all of them. He then used all the bags to refill the one with only my two favorite flavors and carefully glued the bag back together so I would never notice.
Most likely none of you will understand why this next gesture was so special, but here goes. When we lived in SC I was incredibly ill from allergies. I had lived months with sinus infections and respitory infections. I was on meds, an inhaler, shots, and kept humidifiers with Vicks in my classroom and home. My allergist finally told us to move. One night I was crying, coughing, and wheezing. I couldn't find Kleenex in the room I was in and had to go to the other room to get some. I made a comment about needing Kleenex in every room of the house. I came home from work the following day to find boxes of Kleenex everywhere in our tiny apartment. There must have been at least 30.
Brag on your special guy or gal. What have they done special for you?
Sunday, April 12, 2009
It's an Easter Miracle, Charlie Brown!
Oh, please Lord, hear my prayer on Easter and let this not be a one time for the next few months thing....
Carson pooped in the potty at my parents today. This potty-training pooping thing is really wearing me down. He was such a mess today trying to hold it all in and it's been days since he's gone so I made him sit in the upstairs bathroom until he went. We read books over and over and he tried a few times to get up and squeeze his cheeks, but I stuck to my rule and he eventually went. Of course then he was all happy and felt better, but I am not holding my breath that this is the end of the struggle. I am however praying and praying.
Carson pooped in the potty at my parents today. This potty-training pooping thing is really wearing me down. He was such a mess today trying to hold it all in and it's been days since he's gone so I made him sit in the upstairs bathroom until he went. We read books over and over and he tried a few times to get up and squeeze his cheeks, but I stuck to my rule and he eventually went. Of course then he was all happy and felt better, but I am not holding my breath that this is the end of the struggle. I am however praying and praying.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
How do I accept this? Please give advice.
I knew the day would come. I know that I have to find a way to work through it, but it's so hard for me to see Carson exposed to stuff I don't want him to be exposed to.
We have neighbors up the street who have a child just a few days younger than Carson. They are the only neighbors we know with a child his age and his mother and I enjoy chatting together while the kids are playing.
They usually come down to our house, but the last couple times, she's invited us to come visit them and once even kept Carson for me for a few hours. It's difficult for me though because they have a very different type of household. I think overall, our parenting styles are not that different. To the best of my knowledge, they do not use corporal punishment, I've see her implement time-outs effectively and appropriately, they eat healthy (even better than we do), and she praises their achievements and believes their educations are important.
However, we don't allow weapons as toys. No guns, swords, pretending to be a power ranger, etc. My boys were NEVER even aware of those things until being around their son. (We'll call me Johnny). Almost everything Johnny plays is a gun, sword, light saber, etc. That's when he is playing. He wants to spend the entire time playing video games. Now Carson has a V-Smile that he plays about once every couple months for about 30 minutes. He really has no interest and never asks. Johnny however has a Nintendo Wii (which I've not seen him play), an XBox, and a Playstation. He plays very (to me) violent games where skeletons attack the guy and he cuts them open with swords, people kick the crap out of each other, people shoot bad guys, etc. Even when his mom tells him to turn it off, then he just talks constantly about it. Carson will even ask him to play something with him and Johnny will just say, I don't want to. "I want to play my game." and then pout b/c his mom says no or talk about it and act out the shooting or kicking.
I want Carson to have friends and I love that they are so close and the same age and that I enjoy talking to his mother. His mom also has depression as well and so we've been able to be so open with each other and can call one another when we are having bad days.
I am having the hardest time though with Carson talking about these things or wanting to have those kinds of toys. I don't like know that he wants to kick at stuff or pretend he has a sword that he's cutting his brother in half with. When we stop him and talk to him about it, he stops, but it's a conversation every time we've played with this child. Carson understands that Johnny's house has different rules about what's okay than our house, but now Carson says he wants to go there so he can watch Johnny play those games or so he can play guns.
How as a mother do I deal with this? How as a mother do I accept that I can't control everything he will be exposed to in this world?
We have neighbors up the street who have a child just a few days younger than Carson. They are the only neighbors we know with a child his age and his mother and I enjoy chatting together while the kids are playing.
They usually come down to our house, but the last couple times, she's invited us to come visit them and once even kept Carson for me for a few hours. It's difficult for me though because they have a very different type of household. I think overall, our parenting styles are not that different. To the best of my knowledge, they do not use corporal punishment, I've see her implement time-outs effectively and appropriately, they eat healthy (even better than we do), and she praises their achievements and believes their educations are important.
However, we don't allow weapons as toys. No guns, swords, pretending to be a power ranger, etc. My boys were NEVER even aware of those things until being around their son. (We'll call me Johnny). Almost everything Johnny plays is a gun, sword, light saber, etc. That's when he is playing. He wants to spend the entire time playing video games. Now Carson has a V-Smile that he plays about once every couple months for about 30 minutes. He really has no interest and never asks. Johnny however has a Nintendo Wii (which I've not seen him play), an XBox, and a Playstation. He plays very (to me) violent games where skeletons attack the guy and he cuts them open with swords, people kick the crap out of each other, people shoot bad guys, etc. Even when his mom tells him to turn it off, then he just talks constantly about it. Carson will even ask him to play something with him and Johnny will just say, I don't want to. "I want to play my game." and then pout b/c his mom says no or talk about it and act out the shooting or kicking.
I want Carson to have friends and I love that they are so close and the same age and that I enjoy talking to his mother. His mom also has depression as well and so we've been able to be so open with each other and can call one another when we are having bad days.
I am having the hardest time though with Carson talking about these things or wanting to have those kinds of toys. I don't like know that he wants to kick at stuff or pretend he has a sword that he's cutting his brother in half with. When we stop him and talk to him about it, he stops, but it's a conversation every time we've played with this child. Carson understands that Johnny's house has different rules about what's okay than our house, but now Carson says he wants to go there so he can watch Johnny play those games or so he can play guns.
How as a mother do I deal with this? How as a mother do I accept that I can't control everything he will be exposed to in this world?
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