The Amburgular

Springs Sprung!

2016-02-07T13:40:00.001-08:00

Now it's spring and I am so ready

for the springtime. I have been growing my vegetables, trying to eat more fruit, vegetables and overall a more plant based diet. This weekend I ate more meat than intended and I can totally feel it now. I m sluggish, not motivated to create art. I did however create a ring sling for my friend to try and see if she likes it.

More water

More sunshine

More health

Time to grow!

Slough off that old growth and reach for the sun.

I feel like a young fawn trying their legs for the first time, I am clumsy and messy but I am standing on my own. It may not be pretty but it's genuine.

It's not perfect, but it's me.

Goodnight Moon

2016-01-27T02:25:00.001-08:00

How Going Crazy Helped My Sanity

2016-01-27T00:09:00.001-08:00

This post started before Thanksgiving. I was diagnosed with OCD Perfectionist type. In my world that meant in my head if I couldn't be perfect, I would just shut down and hide,my anxiety would sky rocket until I just shut down completely leading to depression, insomnia and fibromyalgia. Along with failed jobs, jobs I was fired from, a DUI and a car accident in which I was at fault, jailed until I OR'd because no one in my family would bail me out. I had 48 hours to realize I was an alcoholic. My family is prone to heart disease, asthma, obesity during the child bearing years, anger, pancreatic issues and liver issues. After having my gallbladder taken out because it was literally failing, it was under 5% function before I went to the doctor. Which was a total mistake because he was far too liberal with the pain meds and I became addicted. Addiction runs in my maternal line. Skin cancer, nutritional deficiencies and on and on and more and more.

At the beginning of December my psychiatrist told me she was going to start treating my OCD aggressively. Understatement of the year! Things were coming through my head and coming up so quickly I felt like I was unraveling. Add in the stress of the holidays and finding out on Christmas Eve that my paternal grandmother was dying. I fell apart. I scrubbed almost every inch of my house while thinking about how deaths and trauma (physical and emotional) in my immediate family and friends (I have had many suicides of friends in my life) have caused so much trauma for me that I started looking for more and more unsafe ways to feel safe from death. My grandmother passed away January 4, 2016. I have had a few weeks to steady myself and find my peace on the knowledge that my stepson will be relocating to Tucson, AZ while my husband and I are almost certain we will move to Kingman, AZ at the end of summer.

So this is where I am at right now. Some of you know but most people don't. I'm sorry this is so long and I am aware I don't have to explain myself but it helps so much to share this. If you get to the end I will be forever grateful for your love and attention.

So I am working on ancestry stuff. I am tracing my families ancestry and it seems to be helping me a lot

I am beginning to think that the energy of my ancestors visit me around the time of my birthday. I have found six ancestors who died in April. My great great grandmother actually died on my birthday 1986

Interesting for sure. I now know I have a genetic disposition to Alzheimer's and dementia. Everyone in my dad's family went a little loopy before they died. So I can have it set up that when that time comes I won't have to die alone. In practical senses it means I need to take care of me however works for me. I can wear affordable clothes that work for me. I am at peace with who I am. It also means taking my meds, getting enough sleep, having friends and hanging out with my internet friends whenever I can friends (ninjas, my moms group, old friends, new friends, family) basically I am fine slowing down my time and energy demands so I have more time to nurture the people in my life.

My mom's dad died April 16, 1975. I was born April 14, 1980. I do believe I may be a large part of his energy. I am here to help my mom, her family, my dad, Krystal and Elise in life so they don't suffer the heart breaks and mistakes they made.

It just feels like the puzzle pieces in my life are falling into place. I don't feel like I am unraveling anymore. I just have to trust myself about how to take care of myself. Even if it doesn't make 100% sense to the people I love but they are learning to trust me.

And Maddie... I think she is Lana's mother's energy. She was an amazing care taker. Maddie has healed a lot of my pain. She's healed Michael's search for himself. He is an amazing husband, partner, friend, father and he inspires me everyday. All of her grandparents and even their spouses.

But all this is craziness to me because I was an avowed Atheist for so long but it makes so much sense to me. I understand my fascination with traditional religions, like Catholcism, Luthern, Episcopalian, Paganism, even though I don't actually agree with everything they all preach. I go because religion doesn't have to set, it can be fluid and changing. I believe in science and the notion of energy not being able to be created or destroyed. So I believe that the people who loved us never really leave us. They want and often need to try to fix their mistakes in us, people they were loved by in life I was telling my friend earlier "I can't be a hippie because I do nerdy ass shit. I do yoga at a women's Crossfit Gym, I make jewelry like fancy art nouveau stuff but I attend my hippie church, I dance in the moon light and the rain. Dancing makes me feel sexy. So does well fitting lingerie.bi believe that people should be allowed to love whoever they love. I am a hardcore feminist, I love my cool lesbian friends even though I am totally attracted to an amazing spirit who just happens to reside in a mans body. Women's history. I love women's studies (especially the history) my grandfather's niece is a human sexuality professor at UNLV and a MFT who is highly respect. I hear people talk about her in the most random of places but I have never met anyone who dislikes her if they know her. She loves me and my daughter. She comes to birthdays and sometimes lets me hang out with and her girlfriend Jax (who is super cool too!) hang out with then without judging my crazy ideas and providing counsellors she can trust because she can't (and won't and I couldn't) have her counsel me. She is like the older sister I have never been able to have because my own older sister can't have a relation with me because she has hurt me so many times in so many ways, I can't trust her but I also do love her. I just wish she would respect me more so I could have in my life again.

I smoke (I am getting medical card for my insomnia and fibromyalgia) I grow my own food, I am transitioning to ethically sourced food. I love earth based exercise, yoga, swimming in the river, camping and hiking. Nature, and kindness to nature ground me and allow me to grow me more as a person than anything else. I am having my hair go back towards natural. I only shave to my comfort level. I like to wear makeup but I prefer a natural look and often go out with a bare face. I breastfed Maddie exclusively for a year and a half )she had stomach issues so I had to be totally lactose free. I still was 3-1/2 years later because she got sick and I wanted her to have the best nutrition available. I made almost all of her food until she was 3. I wore her skin to skin with a woven ring sling for the first 2 years, until I had my gallbladder removed. Then we moved onto SSC's. I have sold all my carriers except for our Folk Bird's toddler Tula (name dropping) I make hand woven ring slings for people. I bead mala's for people who I love.

I like to clean as efficiently as I can with as many natural and effective products as I can. I recycle and compost I am a native Las Vegan with deep ties to my community. I have Choctaw, Comanche and Cherokee all in my blood lines. Maddie qualifies for the Cherokee tribal roles in Oklahoma. Her great great (?) grandmother was a healer, Maddie's love is amazing.

Yes, I believe in science and peer reviewed research, I didn't have a home birth but I admire women who can and want too. I had what would be considered an elective Caesarian because I was so low on fluids (I had terrible nausea My whole pregnancy and in I was working part time, in school for dental assisting, and working on an internship full time in a dental office. I have never really worked as a dental assistant because Maddie was born less than a month later. My doctor wanted to induce me but after looking at the cold hard facts (dehydration, she had not dropped at all and I wasn't effaced) I chose to have a Caesarian the next day. So I don't believe that I am any less woman or mother because of it. I also believe that stepmothers and stepfathers can be amazing in a child's life as along as all parties involved always act in the children's best interest. No child has ever harmed by a respectful, caring relationship from sincere adults. The best mothers I have met use gentle parenting consistently, sure I don't think one swat on an appropriate area (hands, grabbing a kicking leg, maybe a seat on the tush (open handed over clothes) can be appropriate when a child is in clear and present danger. I believe in cuddling a frustrated toddler respecting children but also teaching them how to learn, give them the freedom to try out new things, even if it makes a mess or makes me nervous. I won't be here forever and I have to teach her to woman before I go. I love history and would like to start speaking for allows me to claim amateur historian while participating in historical learning question sessions) because my great great grandfather Pinkney Green Neal fought for the confederacy from Alabama 1861-1865. He lied on his military forms showing he was 18 but he was actually 14. He was a prisoner of war, both he and his wife were paid pensions which means I am eligible to join the UDC (United Daughters of the Confederacy) I don't agree with most of their opinions but it gives my reenacting a little more legitimacy. Give me a few days and I might be back to the revolutionary war. Which would mean I could be eligible for DAR (Daughter of the Revolutionary War) again more for me to give talks about as an amateur historian.

It takes me a lot to make friends, hanging out? Awkward until I really get to know you, meaning I get to know who you are and you get to know me. Dating was a nightmare. Grabbing coffee with friends? Ok. Hanging out with someone I just met? There had better be delicious food. Talking on the phone? A little easier. Texts? Much better! Mailing beautiful crafts for people and have them send notes or something of their own creation? Perfect! Making handmade things, in exchange for something handmade by them? Priceless.

Maybe it's weird but I haven't been this comfortable in my own skin in a long time. Before the OCD Perfectionism and anxiety in my head caused me to shut down and be depressed.

I am only back to my great great parents, still working on family here in the US. Once I get to a non American I have stopped for now and moved on to the people here. I am excited to see what other things I find once I get out of the country.

My grandmother had a lot of pictures of people and my dad's uncle has traced their paternal lines back to Davey Crockett. This is the nerdiest stuff I have done in years. This is my equivalent of running a marathon 😂😂

So Ancestry.com baby! My dad had his DNA tested and an account. He wanted to know more about his dad because he wasn't super involved in his life. I only met the man once or twice. My dad has to get me some pictures and a book his Uncle Lee wrote with the family history in it. I got pretty far back on his mom. I have also started researching my sister and BIL family (both of BIL's parents were adopted) he's going to do the DNA sample. I have Maddie's grandparents started, Michael's family. My mom's family all the way back to Ireland and Poland. This is all I have accomplished in 24 hours. Think about what i can find before I get bored in a week or two?

So here "I" am. It's like the best form of therapy for me. I don't have to go talk to a counselor (although I think seeing a marital counselor and a personal therapist are great ideas in the near future. Like as we prepare to move out of my hometown) I just hope this post helps one person know they aren't alone or judged or crazy. Love me or hate me ✌🏼️

Sneaking in my Sister's Window

2014-01-17T23:34:00.001-08:00

I know I neglect this blog and my writing too often. This blog has always been home to me, no matter what other writing projects may come and go, I always come back to this one, to write, to bare my heart and to make myself laugh at how witty I think I am.

I am hoping to quietly get back into writing here. I had such hopes and aspirations for this blog, but I have gotten distracted more then once and I am afraid it seems choppy and doesn't flow. I will be doing some work here over the next few days and then I will relaunch. Without much fanfare but just so things don't seem so choppy and difficult to understand.

Maybe I will play with a new layout while I am at it.

In the meantime, it's good to be home.

Timely and Informative

2012-12-17T10:05:00.001-08:00

So many are going through so much with the Newtown Tragedy still in the hearts and on the minds of our nation and the world. I am not here to discuss and debate gun control, although I believe in sane gun laws (in the state of NV, if legislation passes requiring pseudophedrine to be dispensed by prescription only, it will be easier to legally purchase a rifle then it will be to purchase Sufafed) I am not even going to talk about how, yet again, our countries lack of mental health services has failed another disturbed individual.

To catch you up on the last few months of my life would be difficult given my only thinly veiled attempts at hiding my real identity. If you know me in real life you know how mental illness and substance use/misuse/abuse have been affecting our family. During this time we have also dealt with tragedy of losing two friends to suicide. I have strong feelings about mental health care but no more answers then anyone else. I am also not willing to use the Newtown tragedy and the loss of so many precious lives to drive readers to my little blog.

What I want to talk about is the worst gift you can ever give to the mother of a young child and how ultimately that gift changed my life at its very core.

When my little one turned a whole year old, we had a party for family and friends. It was monster themed, my sister made the cake and my little one ran around in a tutu. A friend of ours gave me the gift of a month at a local hot yoga studio. First, I had never ever heard of hot yoga or Bikram yoga. Second, giving any woman, especially a new mother, the gift of a workout or workout equipment is usually interpreted as meaning that the giver believes the giftee is fat and needs to lose weight because everyone is sick of looking at the giftee's jiggly belly and flat, saggy butt (at least this is how I initially interpreted this gift, after faking pleasure at receiving it of course) did I mention that the giver is single? Cause shockingly, he totally is (maybe because he makes a habit of giving workouts as gifts) joking (kind of) in the sake of honesty I have to say that the giver is a sweet guy, who gave me this gift because Michael and I rock climb and he had found that hot or Bikram yoga helped him with his flexibility, recovery and strength in regards to his climbs. None the less he is single and if you are living in Afghanistan and looking to meet a guy let me know, I could set you up (long distance wing-womaning, I should totally get props for that one)

I attended my first Bikram yoga class at Bikram Yoga Summerlin that next week. The first week was pure torture. I was sick, very sick, I hurt all over. I was sore and I didn't want to go back. I was experiencing a health crisis, but I also really believed that I needed to make some changes so I trudged onward. The studio was amazing, warm not in the physical sense, it was HOT in the physical sense (Bikram
Yoga is practiced in a 105 degree room with 40% humidity) beautiful; artwork, couches, paintings, gorgeous lithe men and women walking around barely clothed like super attractive cats wearing less then bathing suits. There was love and immediately my cynical side started to look for flaws.

I attended classes 12 times in my first month. At the end of my gift month I knew I wanted to continue with this practice, although I still had times of loathing it deeply. I was mistrustful of Bikram as an individual, I had read some disturbing stories on the Internet about militant instructors and injuries caused by the encouragement to push yourself further, I read about sloppy postures never being corrected, I read about heat exhaustion, dehydration and what ultimately always is a major complaint is Bikram Choudhury's financial success and the disagreement about how he runs the studios bearing his name. But after my first week I started leaving classes feeling renewed, like a dirty sponge wrung out, everything dirty and messed up was left in the sweat on my towels, my clothes and the studio floor. I continued to go semi regularly until the beginning of October.

In October my studio had a 30 classes in 30 days challenge. After practicing for for around 4 months I was seeing my body change and thought I would attempt the challenge. Michael and I talked about how I would fit in the various classes, who would watch the kids while I was attempting this and what I would need to achieve this. I read inspirational blogs of people attempting 30 and 60 day challenges, I followed people on Instagram who were regularly practicing or attending the Fall 2012 Bikram Yoga Teacher Training in Los Angeles. I was pumped, I was set and I started. 30 days to change your body, 60 days to change your life.

I failed. 5 days into the challenge I became dehydrated, I then fell while carrying the baby and sprained my wrist. Lastly, and most emotionally taxing, Michael and I dealt with the tragedy of losing a close friend; an amazing person, a wonderful musician, a talented artist and tattoo artist, a wise, hilarious guy with a goofy, dry sense of humor.

I failed completely and my shame and pride kept me out of the studio for almost 2 months. During my recent trip to visit Bean and her little Beanstalk, I started having dreams about my studio and my instructors. I missed them, I actually missed the hot, torture box. When I came home I drug my jet lagged butt to class. I had thrown my back out on my trip, it hurt to lay down, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to carry and run through Houston International airport with carry on luggage, wearing a 20 pound, 18 month old. That first class was painful and healing. My second was better and full of light and love, which was a blessing because of the events our nation went through on Friday. My vibrant instructor Lacey told us to hug someone important to us that day, full of doubt and wondering if she would think I was weird I hugged her as I left, she had no idea how important to me she has become.

So it is with renewed faith I start my Bikram practice again. I am less cynical but I will always struggle to quiet my monkey mind who wants to compare and pick apart my fellow classmates for being better, more attractive, thinner, more flexible, stronger or wearing nicer workout clothes then me.

I will still question Bikram as a man but I have never blindly followed anyone or anything. I don't believe "Doubting" Thomas was a bad thing (another post for another day) I am finding inspiration from the people around me and working on radical self love and acceptance.

"You’re never too old, never too bad, never too late and never too sick to start from the scratch once again." -Bikram Choudhury

I Got 99 Problems...

2012-05-23T13:19:00.001-07:00

I am getting ready to post my 100th picture to Instagram. This is a very minor milestone in my life right now.

Babyness is walking, she has 6 teeth, uses some basic home signs and is starting to copy noises and sounds she hears. For example we sing the song "Lil Red Riding Hood" to her and she has picked up on the howl and joins in on it. Her biggest milestone is coming, she will be a year old next month.

The Kidlet is graduating 4th grade, finished baseball and is starting basketball.

Michael and I will celebrate 9 years of being together on the 30th of this month.

So many milestones I would to celebrate with my 100th post and I fear I will end up posting a naked baby picture or something mundane but exciting to me like a clean sink or a pile of folded laundry.

These are definitely 1st world problems.

If you want to follow me on Instagram I am Thimbleful.

Sleep and Dream

2012-04-07T23:48:00.001-07:00

The Little One is asleep in her bassinet next to me. Everyday she grows in ways I never dreamed I would be privy to watching.

Words are often not enough.

You can follow me now on Instagram I am thimbleful.

I Will Probably Regret This in the Morning

2012-03-06T23:46:00.001-08:00

It is 11:30 p.m. PST.

The Kidlet went to bed around 9, Michael finally called it a night at 9:45 and I got the Little One down a little after 10. I know I should have laid down put on my iPod (with only one earbud in so I can hear if the Little One stirs in the co-sleeper next to me) and listened to This American Life or RadioLab or a meditation podcast but instead I am here.

I wandered around Pinterest, I changed my privacy settings. I also changed my privacy settings on Google, Mozilla and Facebook. While I am happy to share myself, I am cautious about what is out there for people to see. I want to be in control about what I choose to share on the interweb but that is a tangent.

I miss writing, I miss blogging, I miss having these little late nights because the Little One is always up by 7:30 a.m. and I am not a napper. I use her morning naps to shower and get some housework done that I don't want her to be involved with, like cleaning the bathrooms with bleach.

So much has changed, I don't regret a minute of it but sometimes my mind is overwhelmed trying to keep up with what might be an unrealistic ideal of motherhood. I gave up the notion of being super stepmother years ago but I am coming to terms with the idea that I cannot be the perfect mother I had in my head. My Little One loves Elmo, I know this because in a desperate attempt to have a few minutes I put an episode on the computer. I have also had Elmo's Song stuck in my head for around a month.

I was dead set on making all her baby food but it turns out she likes the stuff from the store. I still try to buy organic and I still make her a significant amount of homemade food but again, it was an ideal. I have never been a perfect housekeeper, kids make messes and while we live in a sanitary house we often live with differing levels of chaos. The Little One will eat the dog food if I am not watching closely and by not watching closely I mean turning my back to get a drink of water. I can pick up the food but then the poor dog never gets to eat because I forget to put it back down on the ground.

It is now 11:45 p.m. I am going to try to go lay down and prepare for tomorrow. All I can wish for is to enjoy every day that goes to quickly with my little girl and to sneak a few minutes to keep myself grounded.

First Time Mother, Second Time Parent.

2011-10-25T16:41:00.000-07:00

I get all sorts of attention with my Little One, being a first time mother is overwhelming. First for me was the realization that I was completely in love with this other being and WHOA, my mother felt the same way about me. It makes all the bad decisions I have made in my life sting just a little bit. But it makes me understand the answer to the question of "Why?" with "Because I love you." I understand now.

Second while I am a first time mother I am second time parent. You see that gangly little boy over there? Yeah, he isn't as "cute" as the Little One right now, he has scraped up knees and his feet seem too large for his body. He is almost as tall as me but weights like 70 pounds soaking wet. Currently he sports a fo-hawk and only wears skate shoes. He doesn't like girls yet but has a best friend who might as well move in because I hardly ever see one without the other. The Kidlet is mine as well. I know it isn't this way for everyone. Plenty of stepmothers I know have such difficult relationships with their stepchildren or the biological mothers of their step kids that they hold back. I don't. I haven't ever had too, I am blessed and I know it.

The Kidlet has a mother, I am not her. I respect her position in his life and have never felt the need to usurp her. The Kidlet loves his mother, I want him too. I was taught that there is no such thing as too much love. So the Kidlet has a mother who loves him, a stepmother who loves him, a father who loves him and a stepfather who loves him. Along with the Little One and his other sibling and in the respective families, grandparents, aunts and uncles and this is one loved kid!

The Kidlet was 18 months old when I met Michael. He was just a rolly polly little guy, already running a million miles an hour and still wearing diapers. He had these big, blond curls and the biggest blue eyes you have ever seen, Little One has the same thing only her eyes aren't blue. He was in love with The Wiggles and I have forever memorized the words to Hot Potato.

I have been here through all kinds of firsts; potty training (but I will give all the credit to his mom for that) preschool, kindergarten, riding a bike before the age of 3, first concussion, lost teeth. Nightmares, friend problems, being teases, moving and making new friends. Haircuts, bad haircuts, out growing shoes, shoe fads, stinky shoes. Spongebob, Pokemon, Cars, skateboards, rip sticks, bikes and snowboards.

I have been here through all this and I will be here for all the other firsts; driving, dating, broken heart, graduation and with any luck I will get to be here when he becomes a parent and I will love his children with all the love I have shared with him. That is my blessing of being a first time mother but a second time parent.

and he loves his sister, which makes me love him even more

My Baby Story

2011-10-19T22:55:00.000-07:00

So now that you are all caught up on my pregnancy let me share the story of my little ones birth.

Dr. S, my sarcastic, awesome OB had told me around 36 weeks that my little one was measuring 2 weeks ahead. I could have told him that, I was huge! I know that ultrasound measurement can be inaccurate so it was taken with a grain of salt but after all those months I was ready to have my little one in my arms and no longer in my stretch marked, sore, gigantic belly.

I walked, I used a yoga ball, I ate eggplant Parmesan, I did everything I was comfortable with to bring my little one here as soon as she was ready (and not one second sooner) I was ready but then, I wasn't ready. I was scared, I was doubtful of my ability to be a good mother (even though I know I am a wonderful mother already) I was hormonal. I was a mess.

At my 38 week appointment I had another ultrasound. It showed my little one was still measuring ahead and it also revealed that she was very, very low on amniotic fluid. He could only find two pockets one around her face and one around her back. He was worried about her and wanted her to arrive the next day.

I chose to have a c-section, basically I was not willing to put my little one in any danger by forcing an induction. She wasn't far enough down into my pelvis for my doctor and I to think that an induction would even be successful. We discussed infant mortality rates, complications and emergencies. In a perfect world I would have loved to have her come naturally but I am comfortable with my choice and appreciate that the option was there.

I left his office with an appointment for 2 p.m. the next day at the same hospital I stayed in during my treatment for MRSA. I was not thrilled, I didn't want anything from that time in my life to cloud what should be the joy of my daughters birth but it did. The hospital didn't complete it's paperwork the summer before so I was listed as still having an active case of MRSA, I found this out when the charge nurse in Labor and Delivery triage yelled it to my primary nurse (HIPPA anyone?) even though I had completed all my treatments and taken my recovery very seriously the hospital had to treat me like I was still active and potentially contagious.

Everyone who came into contact with me had to wear PPE (personal protective equipment) gowns, gloves, hairnets, masks. All the precious first pictures of my daughter are forever tainted with memories of the lowest point in my life because the hospital is incapable of keeping accurate, up to date records.

Sorry for the tangent, I was prepped and wheeled into the delivery room and delivered a healthy baby girl at 3:45 p.m. on June 8th. She came into the world at 8 pounds 7 ounces and measuring 19-3/4 inches long. She cried and I felt surreal. They showed her to me and I kissed her cheek before she had to be taken so I could be closed up.

I chose a c-section to protect her but it was the worst experience for me. Right after my child was born she was taken from me and I was forced to wait in recovery for almost 3 hours because they had to clean a room for me. I was anxious, beginning to get sore, scared, alone and sad. I was alone, a nurse would come in and out but basically I was alone and I wanted to be with my baby. Finally I was taken to a room in the Maternity Ward, my family was waiting in all their PPE and I was at last allowed to hold my Madeline Adele. I cried, I was exhausted, we tried breastfeeding. My best friend came in and laughed when I apologized for my boob hanging out. Mom, Dad, Michael, my sister and brother in law, my cousin, it was all a wonderful blur of hugs and pictures and love.

And then everyone left and it was just us. Just our little family and just beginning the worst hospital stay. One of the drugs I was given for pain has a side effect of dysphoria, basically it is the last thing a brand new mother should ever have to feel. During the night when my little one wouldn't latch on right away and I am crying because I feel like a failure already, I am loopy enough to consider going to String Cheese Incident concert and the only person there to help is Michael. I decided that IF we ever decide to do this again it will be on my terms. The rest of my hospital stay just confirmed that.

Somewhere between the terrible food, inability to get water when I asked for it, extra days because of my little ones jaundice, the rude nurses, the nurse who forgot about me and was well over an hour late with my pain meds and then yelled at me because she was with patients until my pediatrician came into the room and found me crying to my sister, in which case he got the charge nurse and I was finally given my IBUPROFEN (I wasn't just drug seeking, I had just had abdominal surgery!!!) being treated like a drug seeker every time I was due pain meds (they were never just given, I had to ask for them every single time) everyone having to gown up because I was still considered to be in isolation. The only ray of light I had was Michael, he was beyond amazing! I changed one diaper my whole time in there and he is a master swaddler! Dr. S brought some humor when he told the charge nurse to shove it because he wasn't wearing the PPE and since he had been "elbow deep inside her (me)"

Being in isolation meant that when my little one was diagnosed with jaundice and ordered to be under the billi lights for 24 hours (although no one told me how long they would be taking her when they first came to me and told me she had jaundice) I couldn't go to the nursery to feed her, they brought her to me every 3 hours for 30 minutes so I could feed her. I cried for half an hour before they brought her to me and half an hour after they took her from me. They also supplemented her with formula to help the jaundice but I felt so uninformed. I didn't get to see a lactation consultant until my second day in the hospital.

I watched The Business of Being Born before giving birth to my little one and at the time I didn't think that I was cut out for a natural or home birth but after my experiences I have learned that I should have been much more knowledgeable and more demanding about what I wanted to happen. I wish I had spent less time reading pregnancy book and read more about breast feeding. I wish I had attended a Le Leche League meeting before giving birth. I wish I had educated myself further I wish I had researched more about a Doula because I am disappointed that I didn't have a wonderful birth experience but in the end, I got my wonderful little girl and it was all worth it.

I can't begin to tell you how wonderful she is but I will try, give me time!

My Pregnancy in Pictures

2011-10-11T18:48:00.000-07:00

Last picture taken that I know I wasn't preggo in Sept. 2010

Just found out and hanging out.

About 5 months

Bought my first onsie for her!

Rubbing the bellies

Hanging out at the Grifin while I still can! Make mine a Shirley Temple!

At a Black Keys concert


About 7 months My niece AKA Smuches Love that little one!


About 8 month

About 8-1/2 months

Smunches is checking out the dinner menu

Posing at Viva Las Vegas

About 9 months
I cut my hair off!

Graduating from my Dental Assisting Program

In the bathroom before leaving for the hospital

Last Picture Before Leaving for the Hospital

Last one before she is here!

Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice and a Giant Needle

2011-10-08T09:30:00.000-07:00

The Turtleburgular

Here you can see my little one, waving hello!

So shortly into my second trimester I had blood work and an ultrasound done to make sure things were developing normally. It is the fear of every pregnant woman that something about their pregnancy would not develop normally and something would be wrong.

I had 11 vials of blood drawn, I peed in a cup (which would become standard practice every time I went to the doctor) they preformed an ultrasound. My doctor told me that everything looked normal on the ultrasound and barring anything coming up from the blood work, he would see me next month.

I got a phone call 3 days later that my doctor would like to see me in his office. Now I know I have a sparkling, magnetic personality but I was pretty sure my doctor didn't just miss me and want to see me early. I immediately started crying and his nurse reassured me that it was probably nothing but one of my levels was testing high. On the phone with the girl trying to schedule an appointment for the next day, I was so upset that I got a return phone call from the nurse explaining that everything was probably fine, it was just one of the proteins used to detect downs syndrome was testing higher than normal. Very reassuring. I curled into the fetal position and called Michael and then called my mom.

My mom tried to reassure me that this was just a blood test and that everything else looked normal. So to relieve my fears I did what every sane, rational, pregnant blogger would do. I starting looking things up on the internet. Before you stop reading and grab the largest book by your computer to smash into your head for being friends with someone who would do something so stereotypical, let me explain. I mentioned before that I pick at little areas when I am under stress and picking at finding out what is wrong is no different for me, I did basically calm myself down.

At the meeting with my OB, Michael and I were together, united at least. He explained that the level was indeed high but structurally everything looked fine. He told us that the odds of having a child with a disability were about 1:200, the odds of something going wrong during an amniocentesis were about 1:275. He wanted to give us the option of having an amnio to find out exactly what was going on or we could just leave it alone.

We really aren't "leave it alone" kind of people, I knew I would never relax until I knew if the baby was OK. So we agreed and I was scheduled. The only upside to having to have the amnio done was we would be able to find out if the baby was male or female.

On the morning of the procedure I was nervous. I got to the doctors, peed in a cup, was weighted and sent into the ultrasound room. The Ultrasound tech is a really funny guy named George, one of the reasons I picked my OB is because he is funny and sarcastic (when he did the initial ultrasound he couldn't figure out why the portable machine wasn't working... it wasn't plugged in. I looked at him and said "8 years of medical school huh?" to which he replied "Foiled by Mr. Edison again") George was reassuring me that Dr. S has never stuck any of the babies he was preforming an amnio on, how it would be easy because George would be there to guide him and it shouldn't be too uncomfortable because they would give me a shot of lidocaine before they started.

I was given the shot of lidocaine, I was prepped and then Dr. S came in to preform everything. First thing he mentions after sticking me with the giant (GIANT) needle is about how he totally nailed a baby in the leg with the needle last week. Comforting, caring, nailing babies with giant needles, OK so maybe it won't be their new office motto. I looked at George and said "I thought you just told me he never hits the babies" Dr.S "That was different, this baby was full term" (the baby was fine, just thought the exchange was funny)

I was told I would get the results in a few days, as long as everything was normal she would tell me over the phone and if anything came up we would sit down and discuss our options. Waiting seemed to take forever but on Friday, I got a call and I was told "All the results are normal in regards to the female fetus"

I was having a girl!

Admitting Publically That I Might Have Been Wrong

2011-10-05T06:00:00.000-07:00

I know it is a little grainy and hard to tell but apparently I was wrong and Michael was right. I was preggers. About 7 weeks along and the little one had a strong heartbeat.

I immediately started celebrating by eating everything in sight, I am told it looked vaguely like Godzilla attacking Tokyo but my victory was short lived because it turns out there was only room for one movie monster in this body of mine and I was about to learn it was totally in charge of things from here on out.

This is real footage from the delivery room!

I was like every single other pregnant woman in history. I had morning sickness, smells bothered me, I was exhausted and found myself crying at commercials for deodorant and male hair color.

We wanted to find a special way to tell my Parental Units but wanted to wait until after we had the first doctors appointment. I had already told Carrie when I called her back with a shocked "it's positive" and she screamed and danced around her house with her little flower (her daughter) laughing and singing (or at least that is what I picture) while Nate sat by the computer thinking we were playing a joke on him.

I next told Bean in what will go down in the annals of our friendship as the most boneheaded move on my part.
I sent her a text message.
She text back and asked me if I was pregnant or getting another dog, probably not the best way to tell your best friend she is going to be a godmother.

When my sister and brother in law told my parents they were expecting, they brought cards and bibs and knowing Krystal she probably brought flowers and tissues and a camera and made the day really beautiful and special.

I pretended I bought the Heir Apparent a squirrel costume.

I don't know what it says about Michael and I that my parents didn't find it too odd that we bought a costume for their dog and wanted them both there when we brought it over. I did include the picture from the ultrasound in the Halloween card we got them, which was addressed to Grandma and Grandpa but they thought it was in reference to the Kidlet.

We called his dad and then his mom, we called his brothers and it got out to our circle of friends. We decided to keep the news low key until I was in my second trimester because bad things can happen and nothing is worse than going through a private devastation than having to deal with it publicly. I worked one shift at my retail job but they were unaware, I was barely 10 weeks.

I did have to inform my school right away because I was enrolled in a Dental Radiology class at the time and we wore dosimeters and I was now required to wear a fetal dosimeter as well as the thyroid dosimeter. My instructors were very happy for me and very helpful. Because of my due date it looked like I would be able to complete my program. I would graduate from the program in May and my due date was in June.

Last but certainly not least, we had to tell the Kidlet that he was no longer going to be our one and only. We waited until the best night to deliver information like this to an 8 year old boy, Halloween. He was excited but it could have been the candy talking. We knew once the Kidlet had been told that Bio-Mom would know, the Kidlet has a little sister and she called to congratulate us.

We were down to the waiting game that is pregnancy.

The Day Peeing Changed My Life

2011-10-04T00:19:00.000-07:00

Last I talked with you my lovelies, I shared how Micahel and I got through the roughest summer our relationship has ever been through to this point. The decision was made to make our relationship the priority and since I was no longer being scheduled to work I was just focusing on school.

I have suffered with irregularity during my cycle for most of my adult life. I don't take hormonal birth control because it messes with my liver and also because it messes with my mind (and the environment!) I have used basal body temperature to measure my ovulation cycle in the past and it was long 21+ days on average, if I ovulated at all. Also my uterus tilts backwards and the doctor who diagnosed this said it was pretty normal but might cause it take longer for me to get pregnant than if my uterus were normal.

All this, along with blood work done by OB/GYN 2 years prior had lead me and my "abnormal uterus" to believe that getting knocked up without some sort of medical intervention would be more difficult than potty training a cat. Michael and I had been together 7 years without any real pregnancy scares. So I processed my grief, my sister had recently become pregnant and I was looking forward to being the best Auntie in the whole, wide world! Although everyone told me it was different, I had the Kidlet and damn it, I love him enough that if he was all I was blessed with then I could accept that. And if you can remember way-back yonder to when I was posting with the regularity of a prune farmer, then you might remember that I had made the decision to finish my Dental Assisting classes and immediately begin pursuing my degree in Dental Hygiene.

I noticed I was out of sorts. Shark Week hadn't started but with my recent stay at the ICU hotel, I wasn't surprised but still something seemed different. I told Michael I was about a week late and he looked up at me from the couch and said "You're pregnant." I said "I can't be, I don't think so, I think it is just stress" he said "you're pregnant".

I decided to go and get a pregnancy test, just to prove to him how wrong he was. We had tried to get pregnant the summer before and it had amounted to nothing but a lot of pregnancy tests in the trash. I had followed doctors orders, taking vitamins and hormones to try to regulate my ovulation. I was taking my basal temperature every morning and logging all actives. We tried until I was sick of trying, I was sick of hoping and nothing happening. We had made a decision to not really share that we had been trying because I didn't want the pressure or the disappointment from anyone else weighting on us.My own disappointment was enough ("Pity? Party of 1? Your table is this way...")

So I got the test, since I knew he was wrong I splurged on the digital read out. I was on the phone with my friend Carrie while I was at the store and told her what was going on and how Michael was totally wrong and how silly boys are but how happy I was that things had been so wonderful for us lately. Because things were good; we were laughing, talking, sharing our feelings and lives fully. All the little things that we had let get in our way were behind us and things were gloriously good right at that moment, even if he was wrong.

I promised to call her if, "if" the test was positive but otherwise I would just talk to her later to catch up. I wish I had some dramatic Juno, drinking gallons of Sunny Delight before taking the pregnancy test story but nope, I just peed in a cup and dipped the stick in (much more sanitary, in my humble opinion) I didn't even have to wait anything like the 5 minutes the box recommended:

PREGNANT

17 Days in Ashes

2011-10-03T00:59:00.000-07:00

So I promised the tale of finding out I was going to become a mother but I have to start with my 17 day stay in the hospital.

As mentioned before; I was feeling run down, Dear Hubby and I had a challenging summer. Working two jobs quickly burned me out, Dear Hubby and I barely saw each other and the only communication we were having at a certain point were arguments. We planned for our annual trip to visit his clan and we were hoping that the time away would be good for us and it was. We hit complete rock bottom on that trip. We came home and had previously agreed to watch my Parental Units house and the Heir Apparent because while my parents think he can do no wrong the lack of opposable thumbs makes it difficult for him to feed himself.

During the week staying at my parents house I was feeling worse and worse. I had noticed a small bump on the back of my head before we left but assumed it was a pimple. I have a tendency to pick at things, especially when stressed and since we spent 5 days out of town with Dear Hubby's clan with the tension between us so thick you could cut it with a knife, I was picking. Before leaving for our vacation I had a cardiac stress test scheduled at my doctors office, while I was there I mentioned to the nurse I had a painful spot on the back of my head. He suggested it was folliculitus and that I should stop messing with it but had the doctor give me a prescription for an antibiotic. It didn't get better and 3 days after being back home I went to the doctors office again, this is where I should mention that while I like my GP, normally he won't touch you with a 10 foot pole. He will run almost every test under the sun on you yearly but if he could just email you the results of what is wrong I think he would prefer it, he does not have the best bedside manner but he is a damn good doctor.

He looked at the area, which I will admit was hard to see because I have really thick hair, I explained that I could barely move my neck I was in so much pain. He thought it was still folliculitis and I needed another round of a stronger antibiotics but before leaving he ordered a blood test. I got a phone call with 45 minutes telling me to go the closest Emergency Room because he was admitting me. My white blood count was over 3 times as high as normal.

17 days in Sunrise Hospital. I had a particularly nasty MRSA infection.

I got to stay in isolation in the ICU which the only nice thing was that meant I had my own room. It also meant everyone who was exposed to me had to be completely covered in PPE (personal protective equipment) gloves, gowns, masks. Everyone; Doctors, nurses, orderlies, my family and my friends. I don't know if you have ever spent 17 days in one room (Because having me leave the room wasn't an option) I only left for cat-scans. I had to have a PICC line inserted because I kept blowing out my IV's. I was miserable and Dear Hubby and I were still scraping the bottom of the barrel as far as our relationship went.

I missed my first week of classes, I went home with IV antibiotics. Literally I have never been sicker in my whole life. The fear and the reason for the long stay was that the area of the infection was so close to the brain stem that if the infection wasn't controlled quickly the doctors were afraid it would spread and your blogger would be worm food.

I obviously couldn't work during this time but like most corporate retail establishments my job acted like I was faking it. So I could booze it up while hanging out at nightclubs and tanning at casino pool parties. I had to provide so much documentation and they still acted odd towards me. I worked 3 more shifts after being medically released and then they just never scheduled me again. I called and I tried to talk to the manager and the scheduler but everyone was always busy and no one would call me back. I took it as a sign that it was time to move on with life. My census job had ended before our vacation and Dear Hubby and I had finally got down to the nitty gritty in our relationship.

I mentioned we hit rock bottom on our trip, the things about rock bottom is you sometimes don't realize that it is rock bottom for a little while. We were very touch and go but ultimately we both honestly communicated that neither one of us had any desire to be with anyone else, that our marriage was most important and that both of us had to let go of some baggage we had been carrying around for years. My always working had caused distance, my fears that I needed to be perfect caused me to be a fake version of myself. There were just a lot of little things, we were both to blame but this is my story to tell and you would have to ask Dear Hubby if you wanted details from his perspective.

Like a phoenix our relationship rose from the ashes.

Miss Me?

2011-10-01T00:35:00.000-07:00

It has been over a year since I last posted and you my lovelies will not even begin to guess the changes that have taken place since I last spoke with you.

I will come out with the biggest change of all right away and quench your curiosity.

Your dear blogger has become a mother.

Not a stepmother. Although I am still the most kick ass stepmother that The Kidlet has ever met, but a life form living inside my body using my bladder as a punching bag and causing irreparable damage to the skin on my stomach, kind of mother!

I am also finished with Dental Assisting school, spending my last semester knocked up wasn't probably my brightest idea but I kicked ass none the less and graduated with the award for "Best Clinician".

I am no longer employed at my ladies intimates retail store, in fact I am no longer employed anywhere! I spend my days lazing around, eating chocolate while lying on a Tempurpedic with a 4 inch feather bed topper. I often enjoy long days of reading and sleeping, cuddling with the cat while warm in our safe haven during a rain storm or laughing and rolling around in our gauzy white sheets with the Dear Hubby.

Which is to tell you that shortly after my last post I spent 17 days in ICU with a MRSA infection on the back of my head. No joke, my hair fell out on the back of my neck/head and when it grew back it came back in adorable ringlets which totally make doing my hair a pain because all of the hair on the underside is cute curls while all the hair on the top is almost stick straight. Does anyone know where I could get my hands on some ringworms because I am thinking of infecting the rest of my head because that is how my Dad claims he got his redheadfro.

I started my second to last semester of school late, I quickly caught up but then found myself becoming more and more and more exhausted. I was emotional, ok more emotional than usual, and as I have already shared I was preggo.

I am not going to get into the preggo story tonight, I want to do it justice and I want to have some material to write about for the next week.

So until next time!

Over and Over

2010-08-14T23:51:00.000-07:00

I have this song stuck in my head right now... enjoy!

Overwhelmed and Underpaid

2010-07-30T11:11:00.000-07:00

I recently had a decision to make, one that will change the course of my life and the course of the life that Dear Hubby and I are building together. It will change my time with The Rapscallion, it will take my focus away from hobbies and friends. It means that Dear Hubby and I will continue the balancing act we preform with our finances, it means I will continue with my adventures in retail sales and work most evenings and weekends.

The original plan was for me to be done with my dental assisting certificate this spring, my friend Jules and I would be graduating at the same time and we were planning a girls get-away weekend on a short Mexican cruise to celebrate our accomplishments. Now I may still try to go but it will be to support her and celebrate her accomplishments because when I would return it will be back to another semester.

I have decided to pursue Dental Hygiene as my major. I will still finish my dental assisting certificate and sit for my national boards but while I am doing that I will be completing my pre-requisites to get into the Dental Hygiene program. I am looking at about 3-1/2 more years of school (counting pre-requisites) if all goes as planned I should be done with school before I am 35.

I felt a little backed into a corner in regards to this decision, I was told by the college that I had too many existing credits to continue to receive financial aid for my dental assisting certificate (I had taken about 3 semesters of college before I was 21) I was told that if I wanted to pursue a higher degree program I could continue to receive financial aid as long as I am taking pre-requisites towards my stated major.

So I talked; I talked to my Mom and Dad, who have graciously supported me and Dear Hubby during all of this. I talked to Dear Hubby, who offered his unconditional support and love about whatever decision I made. I talked to friends, I talked to my college counselor, to customers, to my coworkers, I might have even had an in depth conversation with Puppy Butt. I called GiGi, who is Dear Hubby's father's wife (did you follow all that?) she is Dental Hygienist and I had questions that I felt like only she could answer. Everyone said basically the same thing, I had their support.

Then I talked to Bean's boyfriend, I was driving him and Dear Hubby home from a party and he laid everything out in black and white for me. Financially the decision to continue my education will significantly change where Dear Hubby and I will be in the future, for me it has never been just about the money. I love dentistry, I love working with patients, I love everything about this field (ok some maybe not the smell of an infected abscess which had to be drained before the tooth could be pulled, that was pretty rank) it hasn't been about the money but I can't ignore that the salary difference will allow me more freedom later in life.

So there it is, that is where I have been. Overworked, overwhelmed, underpaid and having a slight mental breakdown. I am back, I hope to post more regularly. I missed you.

How To Identify A US Census Enumerator

2010-05-20T13:28:00.000-07:00

If you don't send back your form, you may receive a visit from a census taker. If a census taker visits you, here's what you should do:

First ask to see their ID. All census workers carry official government badges marked with just their name; they may also have a "U.S. Census Bureau" bag

Note that the census taker will never ask to enter your home If you're still not certain about their identity, please call the Regional Census Centers to confirm they are employed by the Census Bureau.

Answer the census form questions for your entire household (you must be at least 15 years old to answer questions) so that the census taker can record the results for submission to the Census Bureau.

Census takers visit local homes several times to capture resident information for the 2010 Census. If you prefer, you can schedule a visit with your census taker. Should the census taker come when you are away from your home, they will leave a contact number. If a census taker has not visited your home or you have a question about your participation with the census, call your Census Office,

Any questions?

Feel free to visit the 2010 Census Website for more information

Get Along Little Kitty

2010-05-19T21:14:00.000-07:00

I picked up a second job for the summer, it will no doubt provide me with endless anecdotes for you all, but unfortunately I am not really at liberty to share most of it.

I can tell you that my first grade math skills will finally be put to use, I am working for an entity that many consider "big-brother"ish and 10 years isn't going to be long enough for me to forget the last 3 days.

I can explain it easily and creatively this way:

Cat Rodeo

Ponder that for a little while and I will talk to you soon!

Almost

2010-05-11T13:39:00.001-07:00

...over!

Tomorrow is my last final for this semester and then I can enjoy the summer.

I am wishing for sitting out by the pool

Playing Frisbee golf in the park

Hiking in the trees

Playing with Puppybutt and her new friends at the dog park

Barbecues and sitting on the porch with friends

I am not looking forward to; working weird hours, being left out, being stressed about school in the fall, waiting for my grades, allergies and all this wind, super-hot summer and no air conditioning in my car, sitting outside in the heat and sun watching baseball games with people who I barely tolerate, weeding the front yard, the pool being over crowded, being self conscious in a bathing suit.

Green Smoothies

2010-04-21T12:41:00.000-07:00

I have been drinking these green smoothies for the past couple of weeks, I won’t lie I did get the inspiration from Miss AmyK. They are wonderful, I have put my own spin on her recipe and I thought I would share.

I don't have exact measurements, I kind of eyeball things.

The Rapscallion loves these, he had no idea there were veggies in it. He does now but still loves the smoothie so much he drinks one every morning with me. This is our usual breakfast (usually I give him a piece of toast with peanut butter or Nutella on it) I will have to share our recipe for Nutella banana’s another day.

Green Smoothies:

1 big handful of fresh spinach (probably around one cup)

1/2 cup of carrots (or a handful or baby, or a small fresh one)

1 medium banana (I freeze them when they start to spot and get brown, so I always use a frozen one just peel, break into pieces and store in a plastic bag in the freezer) bananas make the smoothie creamy, fresh bananas will make the smoothie taste creamier but don’t use ones that are too ripe, they are too starchy and will make the smoothie taste weird.

Berries, this varies according to what is fresh; I use around 5 or 6 medium strawberries or around 1/2 cup of blueberries or 7 blackberries or a combination of any. When fresh berries aren't available (or when I have bought a bunch on sale, I freeze them) I use frozen, around 1/2-3/4 of a cup (Important the berries and the banana hide the vegetables flavors)

Other fruits you could add: mangos, pineapple, grapes, apples (I would peel them and I don’t suggest freezing them) oranges (but fresh squeezed orange juice is probably easier to use in this recipe) watermelon, cantaloupe, kiwi’s, again if you freeze the fruit you get the benefit of making the smoothie cold without watering it down with ice.

1/2-3/4 a cup of liquid, I use almond milk but any juice, milk or coconut water would work also, you just need something to get the whole mixture moving in the blender but don't use plain water it will water down the mixture and taste funny.

2 tablespoons of ground flax seed, I use Bob’s Red Mill Ground Flax Seed Meal.

1/4 - 1/2 cup or organic yogurt (I don't always add this, but it makes the smoothie creamier and the variety of yogurt I use is high in protein) I use Mountain High Original Style Vanilla but they also make a low fat and fat free version.

Blend until smooth, if it is too thick add more liquid, if you can taste the spinach too much add a squirt of honey or agave nectar (I use agave nectar, it is better on your blood sugar and tastes great) you could also add your own "boosters" if you wanted too; powdered vitamin C, protein powder (I would use vanilla) even liquid vitamins but if you are going that route, I suggest using chocolate somewhere in the mix (chocolate milk, chocolate protein powder) I have found that chocolate hides the vitamin taste better.

This recipe makes about 2 smooties, it is enough for me and The Rapscallion to share in the morning or for me to just have for another meal.

Have fun and happy blending!

2010-04-15T17:13:00.000-07:00

So I participated in Shortmama's Spring Swap!

Look what I got from Lacey over at the The Fowler Family

I love little beauty goodies and I got a box full of them! Wonderful scented candles, seeds to grow bell peppers, lipstick, hand sanitizer, nail polish, cushy socks, mascara, hair goodies and a beauty book! What a fun swap package! Go over and check out Lacey's blog to see what I sent her!

Birthday Ramblings

2010-04-11T21:27:00.001-07:00

I have a birthday coming up this week, so does Dear Hubby, we will officially be saying goodbye to our 20's.

When I was a kid I always thought 30 was an adult; like an established adult, someone who has a savings account with more than $86 in it, someone who isn't driving a collection of semi-broken down cars, someone who owns a home and has a matching bedroom set.

I am nowhere near that ideal, I am not even sure that is what I want anymore but I can't shake the image. When I was in my late teens and early 20's I had a collection of young women in their 30's that I idealized. They had careers, or were finishing up college. They were buying homes and everything smelled like cinnamon. They had cars that ran and had air-conditioning. They had 1 carat diamond rings and decorated their homes from Pottery Barn websites.

I guess this is what I thought 30 should be and I am nowhere near that. I may be in school and enjoy spicy cinnamon candles but mentally I am not with those women anymore. I guess somewhere in my journey my trust in this ideal was broken. I still love some of these women deeply but I have also been hurt, rejected and snubbed by others.

I am now on another path, the graying woman with the wrinkles from laughing and smiling. She has clauses and wears only silver. Her fingernails are short, her smile is genuine and maybe she drives a beat up truck. She smiles at the end of a day surrounded by her loving friends and family, whatever form they may come in. Her house still smells like cinnamon but you will find her out on a trail or climbing a rock. Not gossiping or judging.

I guess that is what I envision 50 to be, so check back with me in 20 years to see if I am disappointed with what I find up ahead on the trail.

Hours in a Day

2010-03-31T09:58:00.000-07:00

Overwhelmed, that is how I am feeling right now.

I am down to my last 6 weeks for this semester (budget cuts mean no summer school) I will return to being a student in the fall. While I am excited and proud to be at this point, I am also stressed, the work is getting harder and we have begun practicing on each other in our labs.

Which on a side note, have I mentioned how wonderful my lab partner is? She is, we will call her Hummingbird, she rocks for a variety of reasons, the least of which is allowing me to stick my fingers in her mouth and quasi-gag her a few time on Monday while trying to take an impression of her teeth. She is a good sport and honestly becoming a good friend.

Work is good, I am over the initial nervousness but now I am faced with knowing a little but not enough to always feel totally confident on the selling floor. The management team at my store has been really supportive and it makes learning and working a very pleasant experience.

But it still takes time; I am lucky to be working but the added hours along with studying, homework, driving, sleeping, showering, eating, and trying to tread water as a housekeeper, wife and stepmum leave me quite exhausted.

I know this blog is suffering, its not that I am not thinking about you, writing blogs while I should be straightening out tables of undergarments. Reminding myself to remember this funny story that happened in class to share with you. Text messaging myself random dental facts that I think you would like to hear about. You guys are on my mind often but then I get home and all the activity of the day leaves me overwhelmed and I have to sit quietly and let the buzzing trickle out of my brain enough for me to get some sleep to start over the next day.

I will try to make you guys a priority one day a week, I would love to show you the flowers we planted, or how we are redoing the Rapscallions bathroom (a project I was trying to finish before the in-laws arrived) since super-sister-in-law is arriving tomorrow I am hoping that they are ok with my half finished projects because once they get here I want to spend all my time cuddling with their finished project, my little nephew.