The Bald and the Beautiful

Fruit Salad...Yummy Yummy

2011-11-23T09:14:00.000-08:00

My daughter has always loved certain specific things from day one. 1 – Men, 2 – Music, and 3 – Getting her way (as most kids do). It’s no wonder that she suckers me into watching The Wiggles with her incessantly. You can ask, “How about Dora?” She’ll shake her head most ardently “NO!”. “Well how about Barney?” The shake continues. “Elmo?” ….*sigh* “How about The Wiggles?” Holy crap! She practically dances right out of her chair when that choice comes up. “I’ll take that as a yes?” You see, this show incorporates her favorite things in life – other than ice cream. Grown men dance around singing children’s songs acting silly. I ask you, what could be more entertaining? How about the accent? Ah yes, there’s something about that Aussie accent that keeps us BOTH (yes I’ll admit it) coming back for more. Unfortunately I’m so ingrained with Wiggle Tunes, I occasionally find myself singing randomly throughout the rest of my day. “Fruit salad…yummy yummy….fruit salad…yummy yummy…fruit salad…yummy yummy…yummy yummy…yummy yummy…fruit salad!” like a skipping record. I’m all for repetitive verses for emphasis and memory, but I can never get that one out of my head! I’ll admit, I’ve had a few fellow grocery shoppers awkwardly "remove" themselves from the produce section while I’m serenading the apples. So Sam, Anthony, Murray, and Jeff, (not to mention Captain “Feather”sword, because every great show must have a “safe” pirate) have become good friends of ours through the magic of youtube. Why yes, boys, that does look like a mighty yummy fruit salad if I do say so myself!

New Developments

2011-11-18T11:43:00.000-08:00

It’s been a while…okay…a LONG while since I’ve written anything. But a lot has went on in the past year I’ve taken off. I know that it’s made me a stronger person and better able to understand and appreciate the role of a mother in her child’s life - and let’s leave it at that. Let me begin this new “phase” of blogging with some new developments. My daughter and I are moving into our own apartment this week. It’s brand new never-been-lived-in, 1 floor (which is perfect for her), 2 bedrooms and even has an attached garage! To be honest, I’ve never parked in a garage before. Now, I’m not saying I’ve never had one, just that it’s been too full of crap to fit a bike in there let alone a van. It will be nice to move from my temporary residence (a.k.a. mom and dad’s) to a place of my own again. I’m looking forward to new opportunities, new friendships and new experiences that recent life-altering events have inadvertently opened up for me. The days are still riddled with good and bad and I’m not, in the least, healed emotionally. I focus now in keeping my most precious possession safe, in an environment in which she can thrive and with a person who she can count on to take care of her - me.

Ode to Chapstick

2011-01-14T12:15:00.000-08:00

Never thought I’d see the day…chapstick has officially been inserted in my nose. It’s not as though I woke up this morning with such a thing on my agenda. It wasn’t even an accident – rather a well thought out (maybe too thought out) plan of attack. You see, I’ve had a cold now for a few days. It’s probably one of the worse ones I’ve had in my life. Other than zapping the life out of me, it’s done a doozie on my nose. The skin around my swollen little nostrils is so chapped and tender I’m worried I may begin to have a permanent nosebleed – that, and I look like I could lead Santa’s pack of reindeer. It had gotten to the point where I was hauling around a tub of Petroleum Jelly with me to dab at my nose from time to time. The thought behind this was at least between nose-blows I could get a couple minutes of good hydrating time beneath the skin lube. Other than looking like a total freak – in more ways than one – I mean who in their right mind carries a tub of petroleum jelly around with them OTHER than creepy weirdos!? Here I look like I’ve either got some sick fetish or a few screws lose. If you saw someone in the store walking along and out of nowhere see them dipping their hands in some tub of lube hidden in their bag, rubbing it on their nose and sighing with relief, you would walk the other direction too! Admit it! So, here I am trying to hide my oddity from the world of judgmental eyes.

So, every time I put the jelly on my nose – which also, might I add, makes me look like I just let my nose run down my face because I like it (that shiny goopy stuff looks a little like snot, I’m just saying – it never fails that two minutes later, I sneeze or have to blow my nose again. It gets wiped off and stings yet again like a thousand bees just stung me. After dealing with this for the majority of the day, I finally listen to my crazy friend who insisted that Chapstick would be a better choice because it contained healing components. Something about it at first didn’t settle right with me. Spreading the contents of an object around my mouth soon after just using it on a part of my body secreting an unpleasant mucous substance doesn’t sound like the brightest idea in my book. So, I fought against the suggestion. Little did I know, I would be willing to try almost anything by the 22^nd sneeze of the day. Off the tiny little plastic cap came and in the refreshing balm went. It actually works quite well! I can flex my nostrils now without the pain and cracking sensation from before.

I do believe, ladies and gentleman, that I have found a true, rare jewel! Lip balm can and will be used for any and all ailments known to man. Like Windex in the movie “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”, lip balm will cure anything. Dandruff? Apply a generous layer of lip balm to the scalp! Sty in your eye? Blot the infected area with a dab of lip balm! Athletes foot? Massage in some lip balm and the itch is gone! What a fun, new project for my OCD.

Liberty Swing Comes to Michigan

2011-01-07T12:32:00.000-08:00

Words cannot express how impressed, grateful, and excited I am about a recent development in the local news. Michigan soon will be getting its very first Liberty Swing (originally from Australia). A young boy in a neighboring town worked long and hard to raise money for this special swing. Why such the effort, you may ask? This is a swing especially designed for handicap wheelchairs. His brother has Cerebral Palsy, much like my daughter. This young man wanted to give him the opportunity to “spread his wings” as it were and enjoy a simple thing like swinging. Kids in wheelchairs often grow up not knowing the joy of even half the activities their peers often engage in. What a giant step in the right direction! The Liberty Swing will be installed in a somewhat smaller town park only 20 minutes away from where we live. I was astonished to hear that town officials were originally put off by the idea saying there weren’t enough handicap people around to benefit from such an extensive and expensive project. “All they need to do is look around them,” said the boys father during our discussion yesterday. So true! There are more people that will benefit than they might think. Even if it could help one disabled person experience the seemingly simple joy of having the wind in their hair, being lifted from the ground in a swing specifically designed for them – it’s beyond worth it. Besides, my opinion is that people will drive. I plan to. Even though it’s a good distance to drive to play at the park, I want my daughter growing up knowing she can experience the same things as other kids her age; that nothing can stop her if she really wants to do something – anything! Other parents of disabled children, I’m positive, feel the same way. Thank you again for this awesome opportunity!

Sinister Beady-Eyed Chipmunks

2011-01-06T12:08:00.000-08:00

Why is it when payday comes around all I hear is a quick zipping noise and my bank account is empty? Bills are like evil little chipmunks plotting to steal my hard earned acorns as fast as I can hoard them. They look all cute and innocent, but inside they’re just waiting to strike! My acorns get automatically deposited into my tree every Thursday. Glistening, plump and juicy they sit just waiting for the right time. I have urges and eat one every now and again, but before I can dip my hand into the stash, my fingers scrape the bottom and only crumbs remain. Off scamper those evil chipmunks with their cheeks chock-full. Greedy little rodents reaping the benefits of my labor and sweat. It’s more than I can bear most days. Already after the chipmunks have reeked their havoc, I have a few acorns left for gas until next Thursday arrives – and that’s it! No new outfits for me! No drive-through chicken nuggets for my baby girl! Its ramen noodles on the couch watching re-runs because we can’t spare enough to rent the award winning movie “Rainbow Brite and the Star Stealer”. Ah well, it’s more Oscar the Grouch tonight little one.

Will You Go Out With Me? |_| Yes |_| No

2011-01-05T05:02:00.000-08:00

Why do I feel the need to over explain everything? The other day, my daughter and I were watching television. A movie came on and we stopped flipping channels to watch. It wasn’t a bad movie, but in a certain part the husband and wife started kissing and getting comfortable on the bed – fully clothed. Suddenly I got really uncomfortable with the situation. Instead of turning channels, I thought I should render an explanation to my 3 year old on what was going on. After all, normal 3 year olds, I’m sure, ask questions all the time. And she’s smart enough to understand what is going on around her. Besides, if I would have turned the channel I didn’t want her to think it was bad necessarily for a husband and wife to do that. Anyway…what a time I had! “Um, now they are kissing. But not the way you kiss mommy and daddy. They are kissing the way daddys and mommys kiss, which is different…uh…than other kisses. Sometimes when mommys and daddys really love each other, um…they kiss like that. But it’s not the same kind of love that we have – you and I…or you and daddy or instance. *sigh* You see…mommy and daddys...they have a different relationship with each other than with their babies. Kissing, hugging, and loving each other…well…its different…” Whew…I should have just changed the stupid channel. The entire conversation, she’s looking at me with this “I couldn’t care less” look. Honestly she was probably just thinking to herself, “I don’t know what in the world mommy is talking about, but I hope she didn’t feel that I just peed on her. I want a snack. Maybe some crackers. Yes, crackers will do just fine.”

I’m really not entirely sure when it’s appropriate to have “the talk” with your kids anyway. Is it when their in junior high? High school? When do they start thinking with their hormones anyway? I don’t know if I should judge it based on my experience. Boys had cooties until pretty much my junior year of high school. I stopped playing with Barbie dolls a year earlier. When other little girls were playing the “who do you like?” game, I was perfecting my double-dutch jump rope technique. When they were passing notes to a boy in class asking them “Will you go out with me?” (you know, the ones with the “yes/no” boxes you had to check), I was drawing hearts and puppies in my notebook. I remember distinctly the first time I got one of those notes in my desk. It was in 4^th grade. The note was, as I said, one of those “check the box” ones. Honestly, I was so grossed out by the boy who sent it to me, I think I threw up in my mouth a little bit when he waved at me from across the room after he realized I got it. At recess, I tried to avoid him and hid out in the tower of tires. His best friend finally cornered me after the bell rang to tell me my time was up to answer *shudder* I didn’t know how other girls actually liked this part of our species! I don’t really remember how I phrased the concept of “not in a million trillion years”, but they got the point and never talked to me again – bonus!

"It" has begun

2011-01-04T05:39:00.000-08:00

So I know I haven’t been keeping up very well lately with this whole blogging thing. *Slaps hand* Shame on me! Honestly, I’m not even really sure how many people read this thing anyways.

I had a blast on my vacation, which seems like ages ago already. Things are back to normal around the house and at work. All that reminds me now that we ever went to the Caribbean is my fading tan and album of photos. As predicted, my daughter was well into “spoiled rotten from the grandparents” mode since she split her time between them while we were gone. She’s finally getting over some of that though, growing out of the “terrible twos”. She’ll be 3 in February.

I turn into a professional photographer the first few days of any exciting trip I take. I begin the adventure taking a picture of EVERYTHING – from my friend picking her nose to a crooked blade of grass. Needless to say, I have to sort out many “duds” when I get home – not the nose picking one though…that one is a “keeper”! Looking at my, over 300 pictures, from this trip I saw a common theme. I wasn’t looking any better the more I flipped through them! I guess you never quite realize how big you’ve become until you look at yourself through another’s eyes. In most of the pictures, I’m wearing some sort of head covering – baseball cap, bandana, etc. But there are a few where I am full scalp. The underwater ones are the worst! There I am in spread eagle – bald eagle at that – swimming pose wearing a tight wet suit accentuating my lack of tan, gigantic thighs. How could I think that was okay? Now I didn’t see the actual movie, but Demi Moore in G.I. Jane shaved her head. She still looked good. Do you know why? Because the rest of her body was in good shape/health. A thinner person with no hair is more inconspicuous than a chubby one like me. On that note, as I sit here nibbling on my rice cakes, I reflect on the beginning day of my new regiment - Monday. Not sure how good it will stick. I seem to be in the habit lately of starting off well; then by a week in, I grab a double chocolate chip cookie and inhale it like it’s nothing. That, in turn, puts me on the path to Krispy Kreme donuts and entire bags of Funyuns. I would really like to wave goodbye to those days for good. We’ll see how I do in a week…the count down has begun.

I'm So Excited, and I Just Can't Hide It

2010-12-09T10:46:00.000-08:00

The much anticipated day has finally arrived! At 3pm this afternoon, my friends, husband and I will be in a van on our way to the east coast. Tomorrow we board a cruise ship for 9 days of summer fun in the dead of winter. I’ve been stressed lately about this trip. It’s nothing new for me. I worry about money, babysitters, what to pack, forgetting something, etc. Thankfully we have awesome family and friends that take care of us. Thank you to all of you who both have made and are going to make this trip an even better experience for “the worrier” of the family. Now my biggest concern will be making sure my wig doesn’t fly off into the open sea!

More to come...after my vacation, of course.

Shaken...Not Stirred

2010-12-06T11:22:00.001-08:00

This week officially marks a new highlight of my life. I’ll be leaving with my best of friends in 3 days to the warm relaxing waves of the Caribbean. My plan is to wake up early every day this week, work like a fiend so I can thoroughly enjoy my time spent away from my solitary little cubicle. This morning was one of the worst days I’ve spent driving to work. Blizzard conditions, slick roads, and insane people flying past you at 70mph almost taking off your side mirror in the process don’t constitute a very calm drive. Is it wrong to hope that 10 miles down the road you’ll see them off in the ditch banging their head on the steering wheel seriously regretting their decision to be in such a hurry? I’d like to pull up beside them, roll my window down and say, “When I get to that fire of yours, I’ll send a tow truck back to get ya! But it may take a while, these roads are awful slick. Oh, my bad…you already knew that!”

One of my many pet peeves is tailgating. I can’t stand it when someone rip-tears up behind you swerving all over the road just to get past you. It makes me want to slow down and pace the person next to me. There have been times where I’ve tapped my breaks a bit just to get their attention. Usually people like that are driving much nicer cars than what I’m driving. If they rear-end me it’s their loss! (I don’t do it when I have people in the car though) They get all freaked out and usually show me their favorite finger. I just laugh to myself and stroll over to the other lane when I eventually feel like it. I figure I’ll just end up catching up with them at the next traffic light and wave politely. Or those people who ironically miss the miles of “left lane closed ahead” signs. They see that everyone is in the right lane for something, yet they feel the need to merge with traffic at the last possible moment to get ahead of everyone else. I end up getting over into the left lane and pace my previous spot left behind (of which the person behind me is all too happy to save open for me). They usually end up getting all upset and either go around me in the dirt or wait until we’re past whatever construction is causing the lane to be closed before they get over red faced, horn honking, using choice language and all. Ahh…the seemingly insignificant joys I have while driving.

It’s a shame I don’t have a Bat-mobile or 007 car with all the gadgets. Push a button and WHOSH! The pavement behind you is an oil slick. Or turn a knob and POW! A thousand sharp tacks shoot out at your unsuspecting neighbor’s tires.

And yes, I’ll take my drink shaken…not stirred.

Poor Gummy Bear - Don't Lose Your Head...Too Late

2010-12-02T08:39:00.000-08:00

Biting heads off little cracker teddy grahams or gummy bears is therapy in a way. Eating halfway intelligent living things piece by piece is frowned upon in many cultures, but not in the cookie and candy world. Some people use stress balls, meditation, or breathing to maintain a sense of calm. I use food cannibalism. Maybe it’s just me, but it’s interesting to watch these little inanimate objects slowly lose appendages. First the ears go, and then the head, the arms or legs are next – depending on my mood – and finally the body. It’s the same thing as dismantling an Oreo and eating the cream out of the middle before devouring the cookie sides. The process is what makes it so fascinating.

When I was little, I loved to color with crayons. First I would heavily trace along the edge of the black outlines with my color, and then lightly fill the inside. I used to pretend that the characters on the page would come to life as I colored them in. It’s kind of the opposite of the whole ‘cannibalism’ thing. I would color in their hair and all of a sudden my imagination would make it blow in the wind. Then I would hear a little muffled voice that I couldn’t make out. Until I colored in their mouth or lips they would talk that way. Each limb or piece of clothing I colored would be able to move once it was completely filled in – until the entire page came to life. Pretty sad then it’s actually gone the opposite direction as I’ve grown older – from creating life (so to speak) to ripping it away an arm and leg at a time.

Snow Globe of Emotion

2010-12-01T13:07:00.000-08:00

It has begun. I’m currently sitting in a snow globe of emotion – literally. My office building has a zillion windows to stare out at the first blizzard of many to come this season. Oh happy day. Honestly I dread winter weather – driving in it especially. Two years ago on my way to work one morning, I hit a patch of black ice while driving my husband’s beloved sporty red truck. I flipped a few times in the air only to be stopped dead in my tracks by a tree. Although I walked away with only a few bumps and bruises, the truck wasn’t the only thing totaled in that accident. My confidence driving in the winter shattered as well. These kinds of traumatic events are portrayed in movies as moving in slow motion. Well, it’s true! It was incredibly strange tumbling in the air. It was if the world around me was at a standstill…that is until my forehead and the steering collided. Panic didn’t set in until after a few moments of lying on my side looking through the disintegrated windshield. Movies ruined me on that one too. Watching cars blow up from a leaking gas tank, people being trapped in their car, snow covering the vehicle never to be found again, - yes all very extreme cases, but running through my mind at this point nonetheless. I climbed up the seat and out the passenger door as passersby stopped to offer their aide. I’m astonished but thankful I wasn’t hurt more than I was. It doesn’t, however, put me in a good frame of mind when winter rears it’s ugly head each year. Now to face the dreadful beast again.

Shifty

2010-11-30T12:04:00.000-08:00

Well we are down to single digit numbers on the countdown to the cruise. That’s right – a week from Thursday we are hittin the road on our way to New Jersey for a 9 day and night vacation to the Caribbean. Now my friends, who shall remain nameless, have already packed for this special occasion. Some have been packed for months! I don’t know about you, but I don’t own that many clothes. I can’t see myself living off two pairs of underwear for a month or two while the rest of my skibbies sit freshly packed away. Those would be two offensive pairs of panties! I can, however, start packing my summer clothes since one can actually now see the steam rise outside when you think no one is looking and toot. I don’t think I even have to explain exactly how I know these things – I just do. If it gets any colder outside, my eyelids will freeze shut. This is why I walk to my car with them half open. This way they are, in part, protected from the bitter wind, but can still help me distinguish where I’m going. It’s a win-win situation even though I look rather shifty. Try it – squint your eyes and try not to look mischievous. It can’t be done! I’m sitting here at my desk trying to do just that as people struggle not to notice. The sad thing is they’re probably thinking to themselves, “oh that poor girl needs glasses…oh wait…she’s wearing glasses…that must not be a good prescription.” As I said – mischievous. Now people think my glasses aren’t strong enough for my eyes, when really I just wanted to sit here and pretend I was out walking in the cold. Speaking of things that can’t be done, have you ever tried to lick your elbow? I have multiple times. I don’t know if one day I just magically think I’ll be able to bend my arm that far or what. A sad confession, I know, but one you either just did too or are sitting there thinking seriously about doing. *squints eyes* Aha…shifty yet again.

Frozen Walls of Impenetrable Doom

2010-11-29T11:35:00.000-08:00

Riddle me this…why is it when you stand up, your nose becomes unplugged? Is gravity that strong to suck your nasal passages dry? Even with all that built up pressure? Hmm…odd. You guessed it – I’m still sick. Even with naps and medicine this past weekend, my congestion just seems to be getting worse and worse. I do, however, think Nyquil and Dayquil have opposite effects on my body. Is that even possible? I took Nyquil last night because I wanted to get a good night’s rest for Monday morning. I need to nip this cold in the butt before my cruise next week! Well I couldn’t fall asleep until about 2am. This morning at work, I took Dayquil and I’m probably the most tired I’ve ever been in my life. You know that falling feeling when you’re head bobs up and down and you jerk it up once you realize what it’s doing? I’ve done it about 6 times alone since I’ve typed this. Enough is enough; so I just made a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow.

I’m sure my having two autoimmune diseases (Hashimotos and Alopecia) don’t help matters when it comes to me being sick. I wonder just how much of an effect they have on me staying sick though. If the walls keep being broken down, things are liable to get through. I just wish my body would build a wall like I did in my snow fort when I was little. My brother and I would have snow ball wars every winter. He is three years older and always had the better built walls – impenetrable. I’d always get so frustrated at having to rebuild and rebuild. After all, I’m no architect! But I am a conniving little sister. One year I decided to go out in the middle of the night and pour water all over my walls to turn them to ice. It worked – a little too well. The next day I was ready, walking out to the front yard like Rocky Balboa to Eye of the Tiger. Ready,….Set,….War! Little did I realize that when I poured the water, it worked it’s way into my snowball stash. Hordes of little ice balls fused together, useless for me to defend my castle with. I had to leave my frozen walls of impenetrable doom to gather fresh snow for my offense. That’s when I was pelted from head to toe. Okay, way off the topic, I know. But I want my body to build up that wall against stupid little viruses like this cold – to be impenetrable. I feel like it’s just being stupid warring against itself in a never-ending battle of snowball fights. “Look! The hair cells are just sitting there in open territory. ATTACK!” And if that wasn’t enough, “Let’s get her while she’s down! Load the snot cannons! FIRE!”

I’m broken, cold, wet, and away from my impenetrable wall of defense in open view. Someone drag me back to my fort please!

It's Hyphenated

2010-11-24T10:16:00.000-08:00

Long underwear – check. Hat with amusing ear flaps – check (function over fashion). Hello Kitty mittens with easily accessible thumb cover – check. Triple thick, but breathable, socks – check. Running shoes with rubber grip tread – check. You know, I don’t necessarily do Black Friday sales for much other than the thrill of getting a good deal. I don’t need a 72 inch flat screen television. I don’t need a set of pots and pans for $20. What I do need is a deal where I only paid 10% of the actual cost of something and rub it in the face of the person next to me in line when I get the last one and they didn’t! No, I’m not that cruel…or am I? Hmmm…

I already have my plan of attack for Thursday night. It must be like planning a “bank job”. I have my store blueprints, the time each store opens, when guards are changing positions to secure doorbuster items, a list of “hits”, the estimated in and out time, calculating in the stupid people (which accounts for most of it). It’s like I should be wearing all black and a ski mask while the Mission Impossible theme song plays. Dun..Dun...Da Da...Dun..Dun…Da Da..Dun..Dun. “NO! That’s MY Barbie & Friends Cruise Play Set!” – as I upper cut back flip through the mall and land perfectly on a pile of 20 piece Tupperware box sets with bonus spatulas, propel into the air whilst gently tossing a sack of exact change to the cashier.

…Propelling line – check.

Ruthless, daring, cut-throat, brutal - all my middle name. It’s hyphenated. “Watch out $1.98 movie cart, here I come!” Last year I played nice. I stood in line for hours waiting for a small skid of Wii Rock Band boxes to be “green lighted”. In the end, the whistle blew and people not in line were grabbing two at a time, filling up multiple carts. I’m not really sure anyone in line got one. People are merciless during sales! Believe you me, I’ll be stepping up my game this year – or my name isn’t Sarah Ruthless-daring-cut-throat-brutal Pringle!

…Hamstring muscles stretched – check.

Stupid Spandex Shorts!

2010-11-23T12:18:00.000-08:00

Did I mention that I love the show Biggest Loser? It’s one of my favorites along with The Next Iron Chef, The Next Food Network Star and Food Network Challenge (specifically the cake decorating competitions). I know…two extreme sides of the spectrum right? Losing weight while eating a carrot stick with a 1/4^th scoop of pine nuts, running on a treadmill until you either puke or fly off and put a dent in the wall behind you, being forced to walk on a tightrope across the grand canyon of valleys balancing a bowling ball in each hand or walking back and forth a mile of beach sand carrying a penny each time until you pile up $500 – all of this while trainers who, did I mention, say they love and care about you, yell and scream in your face trying to make you face the reasons why you became this way in the first place. Now, that’s good TV! I’d be in trouble if I went on that show though. My excuse would be, “ummm…because I like food?” Then I’d be forced to do 50 more pushups until I gave them an answer that made me cry like a baby or run out of the gym like a loser. I wish people on the show voted people off fairly. I guess it would defeat the purpose of making it interesting to watch – the drama of “game-play”. She lost -4 pounds total but I’m going to keep her because she’s not a threat and eating all the donuts in the house so I don’t have to. But he is struggling to get to 50 pounds lost, does everything right, works hard, and motivates people, but his pants are tighter than mine so I’m voting him off because he’s competition. Stupid spandex shorts! It would definitely give people more incentive to work their butts off, literally. If I’m at the bottom, BOOM, I’m automatically gone.

Then we have the Iron Chef and Food Network Challenges. I ask you! What could be more fun that watching someone design, carve, and frost a cake to look like a gigantic, but realistic, box of Cheez-its? Or a cake in the shape of Trump Tower with real windows and a fondant Donald at the top shouting “Your Fired!”? It’s priceless, I tell you. The Next Iron Chef just had it’s finale this past Sunday. My favorite didn’t win, but at least came in second. I’m hoping that The Next Food Network Star will be on soon. Aarti was the winner last season and was my favorite, incidentally, from day 1. I guess, in the end, I just really just love interesting challenges that cut it close to the finish.

On a More Serious Note

2010-11-22T11:57:00.000-08:00

Had a little scare on Friday with my daughter going to the ER. She was given too much of her medicine (Valium) at one time. She was just overly tired but, as a precautionary measure, was taken to the hospital. Things like this definitely make me reexamine my fears and worries as she gets older. I’m not mad that it happened – it could have happened on anyone’s watch. Many people watch her during the week, which helps out my husband and I tremendously. Sometimes I tend to take things about her for granted. Then other times I feel much too overprotective because of her disability. She’s gone to the hospital many times for health problems that, I’m certain, could have been avoided if she could tell us how she was feeling. As such a happy kid, she’s always smiling – even with a double ear infection, UTI, and suffering from dehydration (as was our last visit to the hospital). Part of me wants to stay home everyday with her to make sure she gets off to school (the two half days she does go a week), she’s dressed appropriately, her medicine has been taken, therapy is done, she’s clean, fed, etc. The other part of me isn’t sure if I could handle 24/7 care of a disabled child.

It’s hard to judge that fine line between how a normal two-year-old should act and how she acts. Is she acting this way because of her CP, or is it because she’s in the “terrible twos”? The doctor said part of her brain that was injured controls inhibitions. She’s growing up so fast! I don’t want a spoiled rotten brat of a kid that throws a tantrum on a whim while I blame it all on her CP. But how bad would I feel if she couldn’t help something she did because of it and I discipline her non-stop for it? How do you make that distinction? This is something no one can answer; but my husband and I will need to learn by trial and error. It makes me think how other parents do this. And how do you do it right? I guess what’s “right” is subjective coupled with imperfection. You do the best you can and hope it doesn’t come back to bite you in the butt later.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like...oh Shut Up!

2010-11-19T05:38:00.000-08:00

Three renditions of “Frosty the Snowman” and two stations simultaneously playing the Beatles “Wonderful X-mas time” (or whatever that song is called) on the way into work this morning? Really?! It’s the middle of November and not even Thanksgiving yet – let alone Christmas. I’m already bracing myself for what’s to come at work. Honestly I’ve never worked at a place so “into” the holidays than where I am at now. At other places of employment, around this time you would see a handful of people wearing some green and red. There would be a truck on the way out to the parking lot to pick up your free X-mas turkey from the company if you wanted it. Little stuff like that. The place I work now goes all out. Decorated tree in the lobby, lights, Christmas nick-knacks everywhere, checks or giftcards for Thanksgiving AND Christmas, gift exchanges within departments, and even “wear your ugly Christmas sweater” day. For someone who doesn’t celebrate holidays, it can get pretty overwhelming. Sometimes it can be difficult to watch the gift exchanges and people tearing open the company envelope with their name attached to a check; but it comes with the territory. I know why I’m not involved and I’m happy with my position. The most annoying part about the whole thing is the never-ending string of songs that play on the radio. It’s the thing I’m most not looking forward to. Even if I did celebrate Christmas, it would drive me insane. At about the 26^th time in a day I hear “Jingle Bells” or “It’s beginning to look a lot like X-mas”, I’m about ready to tear my hair out – oh…that’s right – I don’t have any. Well, you get the picture. In any case, I anticipate many days these next couple months with my headphones on.

One bonus about not celebrating Christmas is that we aren’t broke at the end of the year from buying presents for people we don’t like. Generally we are usually just broke the entire year. But, I have been saving to get a remote car starter in my van. No more cold car in the morning or icy windows after work. Granted, I’m sure there will be very few times I actually get to take it to work since the van stays with my daughter and her wheelchair. At least she will be warm and cozy even if she’s not old enough to truly appreciate the distance at which the car can be started.

Wax On Wax Off

2010-11-18T12:14:00.000-08:00

Lately I’ve been feeling more and more like Mr. Clean. I reluctantly looked closely at myself in the mirror yesterday – the rare occurrence that it is. Shockingly I noticed that the lights of the bathroom were reflecting off my scalp. Had I really gone that far to have a ‘shiny head’? Apparently! Granted, I still have the occasional tuft of fuzz up there, but for the most part, the crown of my head is riddled with shiny bald spots. My husband shaves his head, but I can see the little speck of the hair root still present; but my roots are completely gone. I would rather have all or nothing. Even though it’s still progressing through whatever “stages” that are to come, the ‘patchy’ thing is getting a bit old. Soon I’m going to look like Gallagher the comedian. Long thick hair in the back and on the sides with a sleek and shiny bowling ball on top. The ultimate mullet while I prance around hitting watermelons with sledgehammers! Or I could wear a big gold earring in my ear, a tight white t-shirt, stretch out some thick white cotton balls for eyebrows while I cross my arms like I mean business. Mrs. Clean is gonna rock your world stains! I could see any coffee spill or ground-in dirt mark cowering at the thought of that sight.

Hold Me Closer Tony Danza

2010-11-17T06:15:00.000-08:00

On the way to work today I heard a song on the radio that had me reminiscing of younger days. Not in the way you think though, I’m sure. You see, there were a number of songs’ lyrics that I thought sounded different from what they actually were. For example, the song this morning was Tiny Dancer by Elton John. When I was younger, I thought he sang “…hold me closer, Tony Daaaaanza…” The sad thing about it is, I’m not kidding! Guess my brain has always worked in twisted ways. Or take the song, Every Time You Go Away by Hall and Oates. I used to think it said “…every time you go away, you take a piece of meat with you…” Or take Invisible Touch by Phil Collins. I thought he said “…she seems to have an invisible talk show…” Don’t ask me why. I just remember these weird songs from when I was a child that made no sense to me at all. The Whitney Houston song Greatest Love of All instead of “…because the greaaatest…love of all…”, I used to think she said “…because of laaatex…”.

This is probably why I don’t understand little kids when they talk. They could say, “I want a cracker.” What I take from it is something like, “I hate a map-maker.” Moms seem to know it all though. Whatever their kids say, they know exactly what it was. “Uaguhaahaieee!” And they know that was code for, “She took my crayon!” Whereas I would be at a total loss and probably go through McDonalds drive-through because I thought they wanted chicken nuggets.

My daughter is finally getting more talkative. There isn’t much you actually can understand still; most of it is just sounds. But at least she’s trying. At school they’ve been really working on “yes” and “no”. So I’ve been pushing that at home. Usually she says “Ummm” for “more”. She uses that EVERY time she wants anything. So lately I’ve been saying, “Do you want more milk?” I get about 55 “Ummms”, each getting louder than the last – like I just can’t hear her and that’s why she’s not getting milk. But finally she says “yeah”. Even yesterday, she was on the potty seat and I said, “All done?” She looked right at me and said, “Done.” I was elated! It’s a work in progress, but oh so worth it!

I Don't Do Snot

2010-11-16T07:09:00.000-08:00

I don’t really think anyone actually likes being sick – me included. This cold has been lingering in my nose for a week now, and I’m ready for it to leave and never come back. I’m sure my workmates have had enough of the sniffing, nose blowing, throat clearing, and mouth breathing. I must have a never-ending supply of snot! Whenever I think both nostrils have cleared up, one inevitably starts running down my face. I plug that one up with a tissue and the other one plugs itself. There is no shame shoving a tissue up there and just leaving it – end hanging out and all. It tickles a little bit on your upper lip when you breathe out your mouth onto the part hanging, but at least you don’t drip. Someone should invent something that goes up there and absorbs the snot so it doesn’t come out when you least expect it – the Nosepon!

I blow until I’m about to have an aneurysm and nothing comes out. Two seconds later, I’ve got snot dripping out the other side of my nose. I think your body just likes messing with you. I picture a little guy in red suspenders with a high pitched voice inside my nose mischievously giggling to himself as he turns on and off a faucet; another one laughing as he does a jig plugging and unplugging the drain. I’d love to suck them right out of my nose with a vacuum cleaner. Alas, they don’t make attachments small enough to fit that far in my nose.

My husband makes fun of how many tissues I use. He’s probably right, but I can’t reuse tissues. I can’t blow my nose and hold on to the soggy thing to use a second time. It’s done; it’s completed its purpose – time to throw it away. He’ll wake up in the morning and be wading ankle-deep in wadded up tissues beside the bed I’ve used during the night overflowing out of the trash can. I could go through a box a day if I had to! Snot is one thing I just can’t stand. Dirty diapers, eye crusties, dirty feet, - I can handle all that. But a 2-year old with snot running down his face gives me the “heebie jeebies”. Or a kid who sneezes and has chunky, snotty “goo” all over his face – I could dry heave right there (and, believe me, I have before).

One Hip-Trust Gone Wild

2010-11-15T09:25:00.000-08:00

Sore isn’t a strong enough word to use in describing my current predicament. Oh sweet and wonderful Zumba, how I love you, but not for 2 hours straight. High intensity Zumba on Friday for 2 hours was rough to get through (although incredibly fun). Then I sat all day at our 1-day assembly on Saturday (which was a wonderful program). Probably not a good combination for my poor aching muscles. It actually feels like I’ve been run over by a donut truck that backed up three times to finish me off. If I believed in karma, what irony that would be! It’s not like the donut truck even threw me a long-john for the road! I got nothin' but the feeling I’ve been beaten repeatedly by blindfolded little kids to see if candy somehow popped out. We shall not speak of exactly where it would be “popping” out of. *UGH* It hurts too much to think of such things. They’d probably only be getting Tootsie Rolls anyways.

There was this one little girl in that Zumba class who looked in her early teens. Too bad “dropkicking” wasn’t a move in Latin dancing. Here we are, about 50 of us in all shapes, ages, and sizes in the middle of a mall facing a stage hip thrusting and booty bouncing. Oooo…bet that was attractive! The thing is, every single time I would go get a drink between songs, this little girl would steal my spot! I would turn around and she was there! I have no idea where she came from either. She was like a phantom child sent to torment me. There are two main things you shouldn’t mess with when it comes to chubby girls – 1) Her food and 2) Her space. Don’t come in with your skinny self and try “move us out of the way”. We like our room. So, I would return to MY spot (about 2 inches from her). Granted there was about 8 feet of free space on my other side, but I didn’t feel like moving over, especially to a little girl who looked like she had been working “the pole” for years. This was a workout, and she was dancing like it was an audition for one of these rap guys music videos. True, I could have taken her out pretty easily. One “hip-thrust” gone wild and she would have been outta there – probably sending her all the way down to one of those stores that advertise size Lg clothes that mysteriously only fit size 0 women. (I would love to go up to the counter with a shirt and ask if it comes in 48X since the way they calculate their sizes, it would work out to be a 1X in the end.) Then just as mysteriously as she appeared, she was gone! It never failed, two songs later when I went to get a drink, lil’ Beyonce wanna-be was back again!

Happy Fro-Day

2010-11-12T09:33:00.000-08:00

So…I’m not even sure how to begin to describe the mixed feelings I have at this current moment. Since yesterday was such a stressful day for me, I thought I would lighten up today with a little “Fun Fro-day”. Picture the biggest, bushiest, fluffiest Afro you’ve ever seen and multiply that by 10. Yes, today I’m a soul sister needing a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T. I have yet to remove my massive hair-ball from atop my head, even during my walk outside at break. Mostly I sit at my desk and try to have serious looks and conversations with people as if I don’t look like I’ve picked my hair out in a 2 foot radius. A couple people about peed themselves when they came around the corner at work today. Still others try not to stare. It’s pretty funny, because I’m sure they think I honestly meant to wear this wig as a fashion statement. They have that uncomfortable look about them whenever they see me out of the corner of their eye.

Here’s where the awkwardness comes in. A guy I work with approached a friend of mine and seriously asked her, “I know a little about Sarah’s situation. Are we supposed to pretend like nothing is going on with her in that wig?” Part of me wants to take the stupid wig off and go as free as a big bald eagle if people are going to be like that. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that this was a fun thing I did for laughs. It’s quite obvious as I’m ducking through doorways. So what if people “know about my situation” – who cares? I don’t anymore! I’m pretty open and honest about it now. Granted, I didn’t used to be, but so much has changed now that I’m losing my hair for a second time. If I’m not going to have some sort of fun, I wouldn’t leave the house! The more I stew about things like that and insensitive comments people make, the more frustrated I become. I know people are imperfect and sometimes say things without any sort of thinking process beforehand. When you get stared at for wearing hats and bandannas with little to no hair peeking out, or the looked at because you’re overweight, or while your pushing your disabled child around in her handicap wheelchair, it’s enough to drive you insane. I would like to get a shirt that says “Would you like to take a picture?” I mostly fret about it for my daughter – not so much me anymore. People can be cruel, especially kids when it comes to handicaps. I hope as I try to embrace my physical changes with humor, so will she to make it easier for her to cope with everything as she gets older.

sigh

2010-11-11T13:31:00.001-08:00

Today has been one of the most hectic days for me at work. Usually it’s not too bad covering for someone when they aren’t here. When everything hits all at once, it’s another story. Everything is expedited; everything should have been done yesterday; everything is being held up by you! Well, no…I went a little overboard there. But it’s pretty overwhelming at times. I’m the kind of person that freaks out when I miss due dates. So, then I tend to skip my breaks and lunch to work harder. Doing that, makes me even more on edge. It’s a no-win situation.

I’ve been continually writing my blog later and later in the day to prioritize what I REALLY need to get done. Since the world will not come to an end if I don’t write my blog for one weekday, I shouldn’t stress, right? That’s just it! Now that it’s become a habit, I feel like I need to type something, …anything! Alas, this is just one of those entries that’s going to be more “rant, rant, rant” instead of something humorous. My apologies.

I did have an egg salad sandwich today. I only ended up eating half because it was out of the vending machine. It didn’t look suspicious when I bought it, but the taste was a little bit fishy. Okay this is really getting bad if I’m giving you a detailed rundown of my food choices. Next thing you’ll know, I’ll be documenting every time I go to the bathroom – which was only twice today by the way. Maybe I’m just bored out of my silly little mind. Or perhaps every brain cell in my head is burnt out from the past 9 hours. I’ll blame it on that then and say goodbye for now.

Surprised they haven't put me in a "home"

2010-11-10T12:40:00.000-08:00

I’m not sure why I relate everything to movies, but I do. It must be some sort of sickness. It’s like I’m the female Rain-man of movies. I’m not sure where I store this meaningless information, but sometimes I just blurt it out. Like if someone says, “You know that movie with the guy that does the thing to the girl who has short hair?” I’d say, “Just got mail!” I probably wouldn’t even let them finish the sentence and I’d blurt it out like I was on some timed game show trying to get my answer out before it “buzzed” me. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten crazy looks from people when I say, “Hey,…that puddle looks like the robot on WALL-E. See the eyes? And if you turn your head to the side like this and blur your eyes just a tad, he’s holding a plant in a boot.! See? See?” Yeah, I’m surprised they haven’t put me in a home.

For example, at work there is a printer upstairs that sounds just like the Admiral Boom’s first mate’s whistle on the Disney version of Mary Poppins. There’s a workmate of mine who laughs like the cartoon dog Muttley. And I would put money on the fact that another guy I work with has the exact voice of Templeton from the cartoon Charlotte’s Web.

I will be listening to a story of how someone’s husbands, sisters, cousins, uncle (twice removed) kissed a girl…and all I can think of is Sebastian’s voice from The Little Mermaid singing “Go on and kes de girl…sha la la la…don’t be shy…”. Then I either blurt out the rest of the song causing some awkward glances towards the door, or I start in during the pause on how, “That story sounds just like the movie…when “such and such” happened.” Lately I just try to keep that little inner-movie voice to myself. But it doesn’t mean it’s not there!

"Maxi-Man"

2010-11-09T11:59:00.000-08:00

I’ve never had a broken bone, stitches, or anything like that. I’ve always thought of myself as a careful person. I stay on the sidewalk, color inside the lines, always wait for the little glowing white walking man to tell me when it’s safe to cross the street even when cars are miles down the road, and so on. So marrying the opposite of me in this regard should keep my marriage interesting right? You can say that again! Our first date should have tipped me right off. He had a bandage around his hand and Vicodin in his pocket. Did I ask questions? Nope…I was too nervous about impressing him to notice. It was later that I found out he had tried to do a 180 degree turn while jumping off his parent’s porch. He did it, but smacked his hand on the edge in the process causing multiple fractures. Or consider the time I for a motorcycle ride with him on his pride and joy. He had washed and waxed it only minutes before we eased out of the driveway and down the street. The first corner we turned, the wax covered tires slid out from underneath us. Next thing I knew I was throwing my helmet at him as I turned to walk home. How about the time he wanted me to help him bleach his hair platinum blonde? He was curious to see how it looked, since he shaves his head most of the time anyways. We were completely finished and he decides to bleach a perfect circular shape in his chest hair. Yeah…it was months ago, and I can still see the round spot. Looks like a superhero mark on his chest – “Bubble Boy”. So when he called me yesterday at work and told me he was going into the Medi-Center, I wasn’t surprised. He had fallen on a razor-sharp lid in the garbage trying to take it out. To be honest, I was more shocked that he was taking garbage out! Poor baby had to get 7 stitches in his ankle because of that sharp pudding lid…mmm…pudding… And what does he use to stop the bleeding? Wraps a couple of maxi-pads around his leg! He’s so innovative, it scares me. Now he has a new superhero alias – “Maxi-Man”. Ah…never a dull moment at my house.

Broken, Bruised, and Dirty...But Full

2010-11-08T05:00:00.000-08:00

Back in the saddle again. Everything starts fresh on Monday right? Well it should in any case. This weekend was insane. Let’s start out with Friday, shall we? My best friend and I stayed up until 2am making desserts for the wedding of her niece/my friend on Saturday. I’ve never seen so much covered in melted chocolate in my life! She made cake truffles and we coated them in white chocolate. For those who don’t know what a cake truffle is, I’m not sure if there are adequate words in the English language to describe how completely magnificent they are. Picture “pure joy and happiness” squished into a tiny ball and covered in white chocolate. Chocolate covered strawberries were next on the agenda. These strawberries must have been genetically engineered in a lab somewhere because they were the biggest I have ever seen in my life. They were like 5-biters! Most strawberries I can devour in 1-2 bites – not these. So, cover those in white chocolate with a drizzle of milk chocolate for looks. Now on to cake-in-a-bowl. My mother-in-law showed me how to make this little bowl of bliss a few years ago. Now, people just can’t seem to get enough of it! We ended up making 3 colossal bowls. Needless to say, I’m surprised I wasn’t solidifying from all the sugar that kept ‘creeping’ into my mouth. I felt like Lot’s wife turning to a pillar of sugar instead! Saturday was the wedding. It was fun, and I got my groove on. Ended up bringing a whole cake-in-a-bowl home with me since there were so many desserts. So, I thought my parents would like it for their party on Sunday. Needless to say, when I went to go pick my daughter up Sunday night, the beast was lurking in the fridge – untouched. My mother had forgotten it. It was like the case of the haunted cake-in-a-bowl! Sounds like the title of a cheesy Sherlock Holmes book. I couldn’t get rid of it! Somehow it just kept coming back to me like a bad penny. Now it’s sitting in the lunchroom fridge at work, and I’ll be darned if I’m taking that bowl home with something in it! It can sit in there and mold for all I care!

Another fantastic outing for Sunday was the Melting Pot. It’s a fondue restaurant. We went there with our friends and had a blast! “Chocolate covered” seems to be a theme of the weekend, but the dessert of the meal was the best part. If I had a button on my pants, it would have been begging for mercy. As it was I had on a stretchy skirt - +1 for me! Unfortunately I had on one of those corset thingies to “smooth” and “thin”…yeah… - -25 for me on that one! It was one of those that looks like a bathing suit without the top part. Needless to say, hooking the part between my legs was a challenge I will never forget. They don’t make these for “big” girls – or they shouldn’t. I’m just glad I was in the handicap stall for enough room to contort my body to figure out how to get down there!

Whew…with all of that said, I’m back on the “wagon” starting today. I pretty much hurled myself off of it this weekend and was being dragged behind by one leg. I'm broken, bruised, and dirty...but I'm full.

Mrs. Potato Head

2010-11-05T09:29:00.000-07:00

Usually it takes me about an hour to get ready in the morning – shower, hair, makeup, etc. But lately it’s been taking longer and longer to do my makeup – particularly my eyebrows. Eyelashes have been falling out nonstop so I stopped the use of mascara altogether with that one. But now that my eyebrows are getting ridiculously thin, it takes longer to find them to pencil in relatively even lines on both sides. I must admit, sometimes I get a little carried away and I leave the house with monster thick eyebrows. It’s only because I mess up on one side, so I have to do it on the other. Erasing what you’ve already done isn’t my style. Sometimes they look like cute little apostrophes, sometimes they’re thin long lines like parenthesis, and other times they’re curved down in a dramatic C shape. I imagine I could actually have some serious fun with them. Fun that no one else gets to have – unless they go and shave their eyebrows off. I could be like Mrs. Potato Head and “plug in” any shape of eyebrow I want! The Angry look, the Sad look, the Surprised look, the Hurt look, …really, the sky is the limit. It would save so much time trying to express my feelings. People could just look at my drawn-on eyebrows and see what mood I am in!

Is it Legal to Patrol Ones House with BB Guns?

2010-11-04T08:59:00.000-07:00

Who’s got the guts to go into a stranger’s garage with a car in the driveway and steal their snowblower?! Apparently these are the kinds of “winners” living in our neighborhood. Now here we sit, snowblower-less, trying to figure out how we can afford another one - right before winter no less. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. We, at one point in time before I hit black ice and totaled it, had a cute lil’ truck. It came with some huge off-roading tires. We stacked those heavy suckers behind our garage so no one would see them. One day, they were gone. Who walks down the street rolling 4 tires and doesn’t look suspicious? And if they used a truck to haul them, who’s got the nerve to back right up to someone else’s garage and load up whatever they want? I don’t understand people at all!

Now, I knew we were dealing with some real characters (I have to watch my temper on how I describe these kids), when we would drive down our street and they would be walking in packs down the middle of the road. With no concern for any vehicle in their way, they’d hold steady on their course blocking both lanes. Honk your horn, yell, scream at them; you’d just get a nice finger gesture and some foul language in return. But move, they would not. Until one day, whilst turning the corner with my husband, one of these little boys trying to prove something decided to kick the edge of our car. Now, I may have to watch my temper, but these kids messed with the wrong husband. Tires screeched to a halt; I’ve never seen him get out of the car that fast! A yelling match naturally ensued but nothing could be done. These kids have absolutely no fear. They run the streets convinced they can do anything and everything they want. The only time I saw them even remotely scared was a while back when I let our pitbull out as they were trashing our pop-up camper parked in the street. Yes, they stopped jumping on the roof quickly when they saw ol’ Taz coming their way. I even made them say “Sorry Ma’am” to me. And yes, they used the word Ma’am…every single one of them! We may need to look at getting another dog. Everyday a police cruiser paroles the neighborhood to no avail. So, I’m pretty sure who has our snowblower in their garage now. I’m half tempted to set up booby traps to catch these kiddies. Nothing to really hurt them, just maim them a bit and keep them in one place until the police come. Plan tonight: watch Indiana Jones movies to come up with some ideas.

Guess I'll Go Eat Some Worms

2010-11-03T05:24:00.000-07:00

Today I feel like the kid that got picked last for the dodge ball teams. Or the only little girl who’s invitation to the princess party must have gotten lost in the mail. It just seems like I’m on the outside looking in. Occasionally I feel this way – detached and isolated. It’s hard to describe really. It’s like I’m in slow-motion and everything around me is in fast-forward. No one sees me; I’m just filling a seat. It may come across to people that I’m having a bad day and want to be left alone, but really I’m just “down” and need some words of encouragement. When I feel this way, I tend to pull away even more - it’s a vicious cycle. It’s easy to type this out for myself, but quite another to be open and honest enough to tell this to someone – to tell them what you need. Like if you’re having the worst day in the world and someone asks you, “How are you today?”, my response is always, “Good”, or “Fine” or “Okay.” In these cases, it’s far from the truth. But then again, who wants to hear a depressing response like that? People want you to be open and truthful with them, but rarely do they want to hear a sob story about your day – especially one that seemingly portrays you having a pity party for yourself. Really that’s not it at all. I don’t want to feel like this. I guess it’s just another health issue I need to get used to. Depression has run in my family, and it took hold of me a number of years ago. I have my ups and downs like every person. So, here I sit with my headphones on trying to skip through my melancholy songs waiting for this day to be over.

E.T. Phone Home

2010-11-02T09:06:00.000-07:00

Why does my desk at work have to face the only skylight in the entire building strategically placed so the sun shines right in my eyes? As I sit here sizzling, I think it would check something off my list if I could actually remove clothing, sit and tan for a bit. I would like to get a base, after all, for my cruise next month. I’m sure, however, there is a clause in the dress code policy that frowns upon that. It looks as though a white dove will descend towards me at any moment! I could probably play this up for all those freaks out there that wig over a piece of toast shaped like Mary or a nativity scene puddle of water – “oh look it’s a single ray of light shining down on one woman…quick sell her on ebay!”. What makes it worse is how pale I am. I’m sure my body just reflects it off and makes all the passersby temporary blind. I hope I’m spelling everything correctly since I can’t even see the screen in front of me – just a big fuzzy floating spot! I can liken it to a magnifying glass on an ant. A giant magnifying glass is trying to shrivel me up like a chip - one of those greasy ruffley ones! Actually, speaking of food, I could use this to heat up my lunch. That is, if I could find my lunch between the floating spots.

My Pretty Little Pet

2010-11-01T06:20:00.000-07:00

Ah, Monday here you are again. The only good thing about today is that I seem to be somewhat back on track with my weight. Don’t start giving me kudos yet though; I used the word "somewhat" and even italicized it…remember? For the last few months I’ve been in and out of the 4 pound mark. I lose 2, gain 3, lose 1, gain 2, and so on. It’s really quite inevitable, like peeing in the blue cleaner water in toilet bowls. It’s inevitable that the water will turn some shade of green when you go to flush it.

Today I’m at the lowest end of that half-pipe. If I can just get a small boost to actually climb out of this deep pit and on to the next hurdle, it would give me some much needed confidence. After all, my cruise is only 6 more weeks away! I’ve got the salsa dress (super cute by the way), the two formal dresses, swimsuit, etc, but some of this extra “baggage” needs to go away before I feel like they all fit me the way they should.

Zumba teaching is a “no-go” for a while. I would love to take the course to become certified, but the only 2 offered in Michigan this year are both on the days I will be “cruising”. Plus I can’t really justify $230.00 while I’m trying to save for my vacation. Not sure whether the training is only offered in the winter, but I’ll definitely be looking into it next year.

Fun little experiment I’m conducting as I’m typing this: I ordered some of those water balls that keep your plants hydrated. They come in a tiny little package and look like multicolored Poprocks. However, there is a caution! Once they hit water, they swell up the size of small marbles (so you probably shouldn’t treat as Poprocks and eat them or you’ll be having a festive Mardi Gras party in that blue toilet bowl water). The ones I just hydrated this morning are already the size of tapioca pudding balls! They could be my little work “pet”. And I’ll be like “Joe Joe, the Indian Circus Boy with a pretty new pet. Oh my pretty little pet I love you; so I stroke it, and I pet it, and I massage it *hehe* I love it; I love my little naughty pet – you’re naughty! – and then I take my naughty pet and I go *clrrrr clrrrr* Aaahhhh I killed it, I killed my pet!” (those who haven't seen the movie Tommy Boy, I highly recommend it).

Oooo, I could even put sea monkeys in my bowl with the water balls and they could play together! I’m really entertained so easily.

hjyhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjjjjjjjjjj

2010-10-29T06:08:00.000-07:00

Well, the power’s back on. Thank goodness! The odd thing is, I should be ecstatic today – power is back on, it’s Friday, there’s a potluck with an assortment of soup and freshly-made bread sitting in the lunchroom percolating in crock pots and bread machines, …

About that – I sit at my desk all day trying to be good at work. “Don’t raid Karen’s gigantic candy dish!” I scream to myself. “Don’t buy any $1 candy bars to help raise money for marching band!” I warn. Even if it is a good cause, I don’t need the calories! When I smell freshly baking bread a few steps away, I want to gnaw my arm off, even just a finger. Usually I have some measure of self control, sitting at my desk from 7am to noon biting my finger nails down to nubs or tapping my foot so fast on the floor that I could be in an Irish folk dancing group.

Today, however, is a different story. I’ve been so crazy with no electricity, not to mention the other hectic things going on in my life; I haven’t been sleeping well at all. So, as I sit here barely able to keep my eyes open, I know that at some point in time today not only will I be physically slapping myself up side the head to stay awake, but I will have a very open and honest relationship with a Reeses Peanut Butter Cup and perhaps a Twix bar – quite possibly simultaneously. I’m not easy…I just appreciate chocolate much more than I should; and today I’m letting it all hang out. If I don’t, I will find myself attending meetings today with keyboard letters indented into my forehead and all my reports ending with “hjyhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhjhj.”

Yes, I’m not my usual chipper self today.

So, as my last post stated, my daughter had her school pictures yesterday. What a disaster! Lord knows what she looked like, but on top of that, she fell off the stool they set her on! “What a fantastic idea; let’s put a small child who can’t sit up by herself in a wobbly chair atop of a giant stool to take her picture. To make it really interesting, let’s sit her there all by herself and walk away!” Are these people smoking something!? Who in their right mind came up with that idea? These are the kinds of people who directly influenced stupid caution labels – “REMOVE PLASTIC BEFORE EATING”, “CAUTION: REMOVE CHILD BEFORE FOLDING FOR STORAGE”, “WARNING: PRODUCT WILL BE HOT AFTER HEATING”. She fell off, naturally, on her face. Now she has a fat lip for picture retake day. Ah, the memories we will have in days to come.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

2010-10-28T06:02:00.000-07:00

Do people usually like the good news or bad news first? Well I’ll let you decide which is which. I’d like to tell you that we have every light on in our house right now. But the truth is, the power is still out!! What makes it even worse is that the electric company had it in their records that our power was back on. How does that happen? Somewhere out there an electrician is sitting with his muddy boots up on his dashboard eating a cinnamon roll donut and drinking cup of coffee with two sugars thinking he’s finally finished for today. WRONG! How could you miss the one city block without power that I live in? What are the odds of that? Did he want to go on break early so he just checked “done” on all his paperwork? On top of that, I had to fight with the lady I called in to about it. She was sticking to her guns that we had power. Seriously?! “Why don’t you come on over here and flip on my light switch then Sherlock!” Then she blamed it on our breakers. “Well then ironically enough every person on our city block bought a lot of bad breakers that magically went out at the same time as ours! They should really demand their money back.” Hey, at least we can go swimming in the pool of water covering our kitchen floor that used to reside as ice in the freezer. Fan-freakin-tastic!

My daughter has school pictures today. Not sure how I’m going to explain her pictures to her teachers and my family. Getting dressed in the dark, doing her hair in the dark, feeding her in the dark,…yes, that’s going to produce some stellar photos to cherish!

Okay, on to the better news. Zumba last night went well. Our instructor just gave her 2 weeks notice and is looking for a replacement. She offered the job to me! I was, naturally, stunned and flattered. She and another member remarked on how I always kept in time with the beat and know the choreography. I’m actually seriously thinking about doing it! Perhaps even in part with a friend of mine who also attends. We’d need to get certified as instructors, but it would be worth it. Gonna really think on it before I make any decision though.

City Girl - Through and Through

2010-10-27T04:55:00.000-07:00

No power! To a city girl like myself, that’s like saying no air, no food, …nothing! I was just about to make dinner for my family, had loads of laundry in the washer and dryer, cartoons were entertaining my daughter, and BAM! I look outside, but the houses across the street have power. Things start flashing in my head like, “Hmm…did we pay the electric bill this month?” Come to find out it’s only our square block without electricity for miles. And believe me, I drove around and checked. You see, I’m not a camping girl. When someone says, “Hey! Let’s sleep outside on the ground surrounded by a few fabric walls, cook on a stick over an open flame that could singe your eyebrows off if you got too close, poop in a hole in the ground, and let nature entertain us until it’s too dark to see your hand in front of your face so you are more apt to trip and fall on a sharp pointy object returning to your soggy, zippered canvas hut.” – I run screaming in the other direction.

“Well maybe the power will be on in the morning.” NOPE! Figures…

It’s like hurricane weather outside! And I thought yesterday was bad. I looked like an idiot running into work this morning. Both hands gripping my head to hold my wig on, while the two bags and purse through my arms are flailing to get lose. Yes, “Veronica” was a bad choice to wear today. In some of my earlier comments, I called this particular wig “Bambi” because it’s short n’ sassy with bangs that swoop to the side. But with more thought, the ‘swoop’ in front of my right eye framing my face is kind of mysterious too. So I’ve changed the name to “Veronica”.

Zumba tonight! Perhaps I won’t be so apt to toss my cookies or ‘let the air out of the balloon’, so to speak. Here’s to hoping a lot of things today!

Stop the Car! I Think We Just Hit A Squirrel!

2010-10-26T05:06:00.000-07:00

I knew it was going to be windy today so I went girly “Rambo” – got the pink and red bandanna on today. However, I didn’t realize exactly how windy it was going to be. WOW! You know on those amusement park rides, like the Gravitron, when you are pressed back with such incredible force that it feels like your skin is detaching from your face? Yeah, almost like that outside today. Kind of glad I opted for the “Rambo” look. For a few months now I’ve been trying to exercise more at work. So on my breaks, my cohort and I walk laps in the parking lot. Let me put it this way…Wind + Wigs = Shame. A few times I’ve felt as though my wig would fly right off and land on someone’s windshield driving. Probably think they’ve hit a mutated squirrel or something. Commercials and movies have really ruined it too. Usually they depict some old man with a toupee, obviously only written in the script for a chuckle when the main character rips the hair piece off and gasps while the audience rolls with laughter. I’m not too worried when I’m the one taking my “hair” off, but don’t want it flying off rolling down the street like a tumbleweed.

I rocked Zumba last night. And when I say “rocked”, I mean I almost threw up a couple times. Figure that if I’m paying for the class, then I may as well sweat and get everything out of it that I can. At times I feel for those standing behind me. Between the two jello molds jiggling in front of them and the wedgies I try to just “dance out” (doesn’t work by the way) I’ll just say that I eat plenty of fiber throughout the day and occasionally it gets inadvertently aired...if you get my meaning. *sigh* I just love Zumba!

Lose It & Cruise It

2010-10-25T05:49:00.000-07:00

I’ve been trying to lose weight – probably not as hard as I should, but still. Now that my thyroid is being regulated with medicine and I’m off steroids for my hair, I should be able to knock this out of the park…right? We’ll see! I’ve been halfheartedly trying to “lose weight” for months because my husband and I are going on our first Caribbean cruise together in December. We all picture ourselves lying in a cute 2 pc swimsuit on a beach chair, margarita in hand, looking like we own the world – or maybe that’s just me. Well, the way I feel, people would probably take one look at me and say “Look! It’s Shamu visiting from Sea World!” Sadly I own that black and white swimsuit.

To help me on my quest to thin and trim, I have been attending Zumba classes on Monday and Wednesday evenings. I cannot tell you how much fun it is! Granted, things are shaking that are far from flattering, but I have so much fun dancing I don’t even care. Watch out Puerto Rico Salsa Nights!

So, here’s to losing pounds and making every minute until the cruise (in which I will be eating everything in sight) count!

Oh look…donuts! *just kidding*

Mommy...that styrofoam head is looking at me.

2010-10-22T04:59:00.000-07:00

So, a few of my workmates suggested an interesting idea – change personalities with my wigs! You know, get a black spiky mohawk with bright red highlights, wear all black, tons of eyeliner and rock out! Or get a straight blonde wig with ringlet curls, dress up in a ball gown dress and talk with a British accent. Well maybe not to those extremes, but I think it might be a fun experiment. I was planning on purchasing a few different styles of wigs anyway. May as well have fun with it! Not too long ago I bought my “Cleopatra” wig (long and dark with thick long bangs). Which reminds me – I think I may name my wigs. Strange idea? You may be right, but since I don’t have a dog, I’ve got to be able to name something furry. Not sure if I could pull off the Cleopatra persona however. “Sarah, I need this report on my desk by noon...” “YOU will not address me so informally!! I am Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, and you will BOW before me!!” Hmmm…yes perhaps a bit too much.

Can you imagine how creepy my bedroom is going to look with all these little Styrofoam heads of hair everywhere? I only have two now, and I feel like they’re always watching me. I’d start to feel like the mad scientist in Frankenstein. Fifteen women’s heads without faces surrounding me, screaming at the top of my lungs, “They’re aliiiiiive….they’re ALIVE! MUAHAHAH!”

Let's Back It Up

2010-10-21T06:14:00.000-07:00

The title sounds like a Soap Opera, doesn’t it? Well sometimes that’s what my life feels like. Not that I watch them but I get the general gist – just when you think things couldn’t possibly get any worse or more weird…BAM…”You’re brother is really your father!” *shudder* Okay my scenarios aren’t THAT extreme, but nonetheless they drive me crazy.

I’m a mother of one gorgeous daughter who also has severe Cerebral Palsy. She is the light of my life as well as most people’s who meet her. I also have been battling with thyroid diseases most of my life. Back in 4^th grade I had Hyperthyroidism – Graves Disease. Classmates would call me “Popeye” since one of the symptoms is buggy eyes. I was super skinny and had to take heart meds because my heart beat abnormally fast. It made me unable to concentrate and feel overly anxious all the time. Now I have Hypothyroidism – Hashimoto’s Disease. It makes me tired, depressed, gain weight, - pretty much the opposite of how I was. This past year I was diagnosed with Alopecia. It’s not so much of a “health” problem, but it makes your hair fall out. When it started, my hair fell out by the handful. I also had bald patches the size of quarters on my scalp. The hair on the rest of my body started thinning – eyebrows, eyelashes, leg hair, etc. Steroids and extra-strength Rogaine made the hair on my head grow back, but helped me gain even more weight as an already obese person. Great – big, bald, and bogged down! Well now it’s back – with a vengeance. Treatments have stopped, so I pretty much have to let it run it’s course and deal with it. Wigs provide the temporary “normal” self image portrayed to the world, but the emotional scars will never go away. It’s definitely hard to deal with when you’re already dealing with deep-seeded self image/esteem issues anyway.

So, with all that being said, I’m starting this blog to vent about my crazy “Soap Opera” life hoping it will be therapeutic and help me one day look at myself as beautiful. Thanks for reading!