The Water Closet

It's not a glamorous room (understatement?).  We only have one and it's in our master bath and guests never really see it unless I say "hey ya wanna see our water closet?" But I do see it and often.  I do a lot of contemplating in there if you know what I mean and lately it's been less than inspiring.

I hadn't really really planned on decorating it. We've been in our house 8 yrs now and the only thought this lonely little room has gotten (well besides the obvious bodily functions) is this art above the throne....

Yeah nothing fancy but it was cute and French. Who doesn't want to potty in French?

So several years went by and the little WC was forgotten at least from a decorating perspective. Until yesterday. I stopped by the Goodwill after a great Mexican lunch with fam. I guess I was thinking ahead to the bathroom....I don't know. But something inspired me when I saw a few items on a shelf.  I just knew they were meant for my cute little potty! I snatched them up!  It was fate... Or gas...not sure which...

I think they look pretty cute and cost about $11 total. 

I then headed to another goodwill to see I could even more French items and I scored item which I hung directly opposite the commode...

I took the pic while sitting on the john so you could get full affect.

So did I overdo it? Is it too much? Or will we feel like we're  en francais each time we pee pee?

Roll Out A Welcome Mat And Other Items

Not many people stop by anymore but this has become a sorta kinda journal for me and a place for me to screw around at work (hey don't judge, if they gave me work, I'd work!).  I've added a couple of new links over to the right --------->  They're decorating blogs cause well I'm into decorating now.  Ha!  You couldn't tell if you stopped by my total wreck of a house, but I am.

It all started when my daughter moved out of her brother's (and I said that like he's not my son too wth?) house and got an apartment.  She needed a dresser and asked me to be on the lookout for one being the hoarder shopper than I am, hitting all the Goodwill stores and such.  Well one day not too long ago during my convalescence, I was out shopping, errrr, resting at the Goodwill and lo and behold, there it was!!!  A dresser!  And it was in good shape!  And only 40 smackaroos!  I snapped a photo and texted it to her. She loved it! I bought it for her ( I snatched that tag right off that sucker and conned a big, tough looking, tatted up dude in the back of Goodwill to lug it to the car, since I just had my baby basket ripped out and all) and told her we could paint it together for her birthday. And I was bitten by the painted furniture bug!!!

 Here it is!! Ain't she a beaute? Seriously?  The hardware is even way kewl!!!

So far the dresser has two coats of primer and its first coat of a medium gray. We're gonna spray paint the hardware a shiny black. She picked the colors. She wants her bedroom colors to be gray, black, yellow and white.  It's really turning out nicely, considering I have no artsy/crafty talent whatsoever!!!

This is it, it's white in this photo because it's just been primed.  Ignore the messy garage please (ya'll are jealous of the Christmas moose peeking his head around the corner ain't cha? and I have a pool - a blue plastic pool)!

I now have secret plans to hunt down a sidetable or endtable and refurbish it with a yellow chalk paint and a dark wax - see I've been all over that decorating shit. Or maybe a funky mirror...for a Christmas present.  My mom is making her a quilt out of her color choices because she's been having a hard time finding something she likes.

Once this stupid job of mine quits making me work 12 hrs a day, 6 days a week - yes you heard that right - I am hoping to get myself to the thrift stores and doing some more poppin tags shopping and find something that will work!!! I tole you I was bitten!!! It is a lot of fun and you honestly can't mess up all that bad and if you do - just sand it down and re-paint it again!!! LOL Plus it's fun to purchase a product called KILZ......makes you feel like Tony Soprano.....

Anger

And Jealousy.  Isn't that how the song goes?  Well it does in my head anyway.....

I've been downright mad lately.  And envious. At what and of whom you may ask? Of everyone....you name them and I've flung the arrows of indignation and envy.

Then I beat myself up. It's not right to be angry. It's totally wrong to covet thy neighbor's goods and thy neighbor's life (that's life...not wife) but dammit......I want to do things, I want to go places and live life to it's fullest and I'm not doing that.....this was suppose to be MY TIME.....the time where I got to travel to Europe, spend weekends at bed and breakfasts, taking cooking classes with my girlfriends......

Instead I'm stuck in at hateful job and prisoner in my home.........nothing to look forward and nothing to gain. Sometimes even a trip to the grocery store can blow up in my face.

Something has got to change...................

I am angry.

The Final 24....

This is it..........the last 24 hours with my....

Uterus....

Seems odd doesn't it? To say goodbye to a body part you can't even see?  And one that really causes so much angst and really only served a purposed for 27 months? 

I think I'm really more concerned with the surgery itself and the aftermath....the pain, the catheter....will I have incontinence (that one scares me the most) will there be any other complications (God, I hope not!).  

I won't miss the two weeks away from work that's for sure!  That is for another post.....maybe when I'm resting on the couch......

Wish me luck!

And the Winner is.....

Hysterectomy!!!! Ding Ding Ding....

Yeah I called my gyno. I had had enough.  I go into the gory deets, but ya'll can imagine them....let's just say that the Playtex corporation is making a mint off me.  Anywho, my Doc said it's time, time for the ole fruit basket to go.  

So on August 14th, it's adios, au revoir, good bye lady parts.  And I get two weeks at home.  I sure hope Ricki Lake has on a bunch of psychics during those two weeks cause I could care less about who's baby daddy's is who's.  

Are you there God, It's me Margaret.....38 Years Later....

Me and the other 30 million other girls who were praying for our periods back in 1975.......we get it.....we got it....now we're done with it!!!!

Menopause already!!!!  I pretty sure I prayed way harder for the lottery...........where is that???

Happy Birfday

Birthdays can be fun.  Parties, presents and people. They can also bring up all kinds of memories, good and bad.

I have a memory, that goes way back, I think I was maybe seven.  I don’t even remember the girl. I have a suspicion, but with a fuzzy recollection I won’t attempt to point a finger. Oh I’d like too. It would be fun to call her out, ask her why she was so very mean, why me, ya know? Of course I have a pretty good idea why me, but I’d like her to give me an answer anyhow. Maybe even offer up an apology…..it might even be sincere who knows?

The memory goes like this.  I’m a sad little girl. I don’t have many friends.  I’m bullied every day on the way to school and on the way home.  Home isn’t much better.  I’m pretty much ignored, which isn’t bad because when someone pays attention, it’s usually negative attention, aka a beating for something I did or didn’t do.  Or I was told yet again how stupid I am. So yeah, most days were barely tolerable.  It was about surviving the day mostly intact…..laying low….flying under the radar so to speak.

One extra ordinary day, I got a birthday party invitation.  I hardly knew what it was – I had never gotten one at school before!  Man I was excited! I kept it hidden from the bullies and ran home as soon as I could and showed it to my mom!  A real live birthday party invitation! To this girl’s party! She invited me!  The ugly, hated girl in school!  I was beside myself with joy.  Let me tell you it was so hard picking out a present too. It had to be perfect! I couldn’t embarrass myself by picking out something dumb and ugly!  She just had to keep on liking me after the party! I went with a Barbie.  You can’t miss with a Barbie.  It was a pretty plain Barbie though, we didn’t have much money.  But it was a Barbie and I was so proud.

Waiting for the big day was excruciating. I don’t remember all the details I just remember hiding it from the bullies and not saying anything to them. I know they were invited and I wasn’t about to let them know I was invited too.  I couldn’t risk getting uninvited at the last minute!

 

Finally, the big day arrived (a Saturday).  My mom had helped me wrap the Barbie in cute pink birthday paper and I had a card too.  I remember it had rained but I didn’t care!  I was going to a party! I was INVITED!  I was SOMEBODY!  We found the address and pulled up.  She lived in a neat house, that had two stories. It had neat concrete steps that you had to walk up to the front door.  These were like rich people houses (you see I grew up fairly poor…anyone with a decent looking house was rich to me).  I cautiously walked up the steps, I suddenly got nervous. I had never been invited before. What if I did or said something stupid? What if all the girls laughed at me?  I hesitated, looked back, and my mom and dad were waiting like hurry up and ring the damn bell already………so I reached out and rang the bell.  I heard it inside go off.  I took a deep breath and waited.  Nothing.   I waited and looked back and again saw irritated parents so I tentatively stuck my finger out (shifting the gift wrapped Barbie under my arm, as it was now getting wet in the rain) and pushed the bell again. Ding Dong.  Again no response.

I rang the bell one more time and walked dejectedly back down to the car.  My dad yelled at me asking me if I was too stupid to ring a doorbell.  I told him no I rang it three times but no one answered.  He made me go back up and ring it yet again.  UGH.  Again, no answer.

So me and my gift wrapped Barbie got in the car and went home.  I think I cried but I don’t remember.  I don’t even remember what happened after this.  I think I blocked it out (well obviously I did).  I remember the door bell ringing the walk back to the car………I remember the wrapped Barbie staying in the top drawer of my mom’s dresser for several years – which leads me to believe that I was blamed for the party mishap.

Years later I was hit with the realization of what went on.  She had given me a “fake” invitation, one with the wrong location or date or time on it, so I showed up at the wrong place at the wrong time, while the party went on somewhere else.  Like I said, I don’t remember what happened  at school that following Monday.  I don’t even remember if my mom called her mom or what.  I do remember the humiliation of it all.  The humiliation of the Barbie remaining in my mom’s dresser for several years too, as if to say this is all your fault. 

So birthdays can be fun…..they can also be landmines.                                                                 

Hospice Hoedown

Earlier in the year, I felt a need to expand my horizons.  I was bored yet didn’t know what it was I wanted to do.  I hear about a site (volunteermatch.com) that you could type in your skillsets and it would match you up with volunteer opportunities.  Huh.   I have this mutt well trained dog and would like to do something with him, so I typed it in and voila…..up popped an opportunity to do pet therapy with a hospice group in town.

I have to admit, I had to think about it.  Hospice.  That’s a scary word.  Conjures up all kinds of horrors doesn’t it?  If anyone is reading this, you may have had a personal experience with hospice.  And when I say horrors, I don’t mean the volunteers or workers….I mean the circumstances requiring hospice….most people think cancer right away….I sure did.

So I sat on it for a few days. How did I feel about working with cancer patients..Particularly cancer patients in their final months of the disease?  Death and dying…PHEW!!! Heavy stuff that!

I decided that The Dog and I could handle this.  The Dog is certainly cut out for this work.  He loves people and he was trained for therapy.  I on the other hand would need some work! But I could do it!

So I filled out the online form and hit send.  Man, I got back a response pretty dang fast too!  I guess there is a shortage of pet therapy persons.  The Dog and I were on our way.

Soon I was in my training class.  It was a four hour deal, filled with videos and worksheets and donuts.  There were six of us and I was the only dog person (and I don’t think that was a reference to my looks or anything) in the class.  I soon learned that most of the patients are dementia patients and not cancer patients! See what happens when you assume! I do have a fear of nursing homes, so I was anxious about that part of it, but I finished the training the class and passed my online coursework too. Oh and we had to drug testing and some TB testing too!

Once all the testing was done, we got our assignments!  Woot! I got two right away.  It seems odd to be happy about hospice assignments…but if The Dog and I could help two people at the end of their lives, then we want to help! 

I was nervous I have to admit.  Both of my patients were in nursing homes.  I knew I would have to overcome that fear and move forward!  My first patient really helped with that.  B. (I cannot revel names at all) loves loves loves dogs!  She has dementia and end stage COPD.  She has three different dogs visiting her and it’s really all about the dogs, we humans are merely the chauffeurs! I loved her from the moment we walked in the room! I could tell she was hell on wheels in her prime too! My kind of gal!  She has taught me to live in the moment…..there is no false pretense….no Kim Kardashian….no airs…No designer this or that…just the love of dogs!  She makes me remember to appreciate my dogs, even if they potty in the guest bedroom, appreciate today for today and love life!  I love to go out and visit her, even if I’m a new person to her every Saturday!

My second lady was much more complicated.  She did not have dementia and knew she was dying. Gulp! This was would be a bit more in my face.  Out of my comfort zone fur sure!

My first visit with D. was just ok. She was sick and had been all week.  This would be a recurring theme throughout our relationship. I went with my coordinator, so she could introduce us and ease me into it.  Because frankly, I was scared sh*tless.  It was a short visit….hi! sorry you don’t feel well…see you in two weeks!  OK this wasn’t going to be easy.

We went back out two weeks later and she was feeling a bit better, but she still was not a cheerful person.  I know…I got it.  She was dying, sick and alone.  Her son moved her out here and then got transferred and left.  Some crazy lady with a dog was going to make it all better right?  Geez.  Bleeding heart…crazy dog lady….go pedal crazy someplace else.  But she did seem to like The Dog for a little while.  We talked about the weather (which sucked) and we talked about her pain (which sucked) and she liked my nails (which apparently didn’t suck).  We left.  Thank God I didn’t have to talk about death and dying!

The next visit I didn’t get off as easy.  She was still depressed and wasn’t feeling good.  She wanted to talk about where her stuff would go when she died. I choked.  Instead of realizing the importance of her question, I poo poo’d it and said oh they will take care of it.  That isn’t what I was taught to do!  I missed this important lesson until after she passed too.  Then it hit me square in the face….I should have talked to her more….asked more questions and let her social worker know that she was concerned about it.  But my primal fear got in the way.  We had a short visit this time round too…again she was sick.

I only visited several more times.  Her son was there during one visit.  He seemed like a nice man.  He threw out that she was depressed.  Well yeah…duh.  Guess I wouldn’t be friggin’ happy either considering……but there ya go.  Another lesson for me……we all handle grief and death differently.

The last time I saw her, she was a mess. Honestly.  D. was always put together, I will give her that. Her wig was on; she was dressed nicely, had matching jewelry and would tell me she loved to shop.  This last visit, her bottom teeth weren’t in, she had something all down the front of her shirt and her wig was on crooked.  She was out of it.  I asked her how she was doing and she said she was tired and wanted to go back to bed but they made her get up. She wanted her teeth.  Then she fell asleep in her chair. The Dog lay down at her feet and was quietly breathing in time with her. I sat quietly with her too. Then we quietly got up and left.  That was the last time I saw her.

 

When it was time for our next visit, I contacted my coordinator to see if we should go out and she told me that D. was bedridden but could still hear. She thought it would be nice if we went out to say goodbye.  I was definitely nervous about that….I usually went out there and knocked on the door and waited for her to answer.  That wasn’t going to happen. So do I go find staff or what? Ugh.  I’m so green….but I was worrying for nothing…..the coordinator called me 30 minutes later to say she had just passed.  I said “Oh that’s too bad” and she paused and said “Uhhhh…”  Oooppps….another faux pas.  In hospice…passing isn’t “too bad” it’s a natural course of action.

So D. taught me some good first lessons as well.  She taught me the hard ones.  I learned that she was the type of person who didn’t want people around during this time and she had pushed her family away during her last days.  I had wondered about that.  I thought she didn’t like the dog visits much to tell the truth I had been questioning it.  Now I knew

. 

We need to listen to our patients. Take our queues from them.  We aren’t to judge or push our beliefs on them.  Don’t poo poo their concerns or say Oh no you’re going to be around for a long time!  Holy cow they’re in hospice for a reason!!!

 

I also have to go easy on myself.  I am new and learning. I am compassionate and caring.  And I am uncomfortable. It will take some time to get the hang of it.  And every patient is different, their family members will be different.

 

I am grateful to D for allowing me into her life and her death.  I know her pain is gone and she is in a better place now.  Her illness was a tough one and she handled it her way and the best she could.  That’s all we could ask for. 

Seems like we won't get a new patient for a while.  Which is a good thing.  I am not wishing for another person to die.....We will keep seeing B.  I just love her.  Her passing will be hard.  It will be another new lesson on this journey of volunteering. 

A Change Will Do You Good

Yesterday marked the changing of the guard so to speak.  I quit my job of three years. I know, I know.  Those of you who know me, realize I change jobs, often.  The pattern is about every two years.  I made this one last three. Bully for me.  Why am I hearing a british accent in my head?

I wanted this one to last. I had plans to retire out of this one.  Don't laugh. I did.  They had some good perks, gave people stocks and nice bonuses etc.  But what you don't see in the brochures is the pain inflicted upon some employees behind the scenes.

I've been in the same "career" (career sounds lofty I must say) for gulp, 17 years now.  I know my shit. I'm not one to toot my own horn (beep beep) but I'm pretty good at it....well now I've been told that so get that hand off your hip!  I like what I do, I like working on a team.  What's not to love about me, ammmmmIIIIrrrrighttt?  But man did my boss have a burr up her butt with me.

She liked me when I started. After all she hired me as a contractor.  Oh she made the occasional offhand remark that I'd take her job....I should have seen the signs then...the big red flag of insecurity waving right then and there......but I chuckled and told her I didn't want it and I was sincere, I didn't want it.  All I wanted was to come to work, do my job, do it well, get a good paycheck and go home.

It was going well until I took a full time position with "a Nuther Company" after 1 1/2 yrs.  A big mistake.  A ginormous mistake. I knew in my heart of hearts it was wrong, but I let myself get influenced by the full time status and benefits. So I quit this job.  Ugh.  Within a week I knew it was a bad deal.  I asked to come back to the original gig within 3wks....and I was back in 4 wks.  But I had lost all my senority and all my good projects. And my good graces.  I deserved it.

And not long after, I was hired on as a full time employee.  That was a good thing!  I told myself I was going to retire out of here.  I was not going to job hop! This was it. Then it happened.  Dun Dun Dun (queue the dramatic scene music) I was put on "THE PROJECT FROM HELL" the one none of us wanted, the one that had destroyed others before me.  I had no choice. I had to take it.

It destroyed me as well.  My boss was now made a manager and it went to her head.  She went around saying "because I'm the boss" as a reason for everything. Oh yes she did.....I tried talking to her about TPFH.  Have you figured out yet that she was the reason TPFH was TPFH?  yup.  She bullied me constantly, blaming me for every little problem and issue, even though I couldn't create them alone, being on a "team" and all.  I cried on the way to work. Some mornings I would pull over to the side of road, because I could barely force myself to drive into work!  Eventually after several one on ones with her, she told me I needed to think of my position as more of a job than a career....*heavy sigh*  the writing was on the wall.  That was back in August of 2012.  I started my job hunt shortly after that.  I am one who can only take so much bullying and getting a bonus once a year does not make me forgive and forget (well it would  need a few more zeros at least).  And when it's your boss......what can you do?

We all know how tough the economy is.  I have been looking since the "job not career" comment. I wasn't going to take just anything either.  Who wants to go from bad to worse?  I did get one job offer in January, but I knew it wasn't going to be a good fit and I had to turn it down. I lost a good friend in that deal as well, that hurt!  Little did I know that something better was down the road!

A previous co-worker and I suddenly got in touch.  I started my career with her, oh yeah way back long ago (see above - 17 yrs).   She loves her company and was telling me all about. We talked and chatted - Facebook is fabulous etc and tried to make plans to hook up for lunch. We had to keep cancelling because of work. It became a running a joke!  It took us weeks!  In the meantime... a job popped up in her company....she asked if I was interested........was I interested??? how does HELLS YES sound?

The rest is history.......I start Monday.  Our immediate boss is way cool, the CEO seems way cool.  They want senior level people, responsible, smart people.  Go figure! 

It's a new day, a new dawn....my friends tell me I already look so much better, much happier.  I cannot tell you how much of a burden has been lifted. I owe a big thanks to my friend and I owe her lunch too!  I'll have to post up after a few weeks and let ya'll know how it's going. Maybe there will even be a sock girl, who knows!!!!

Skinny Jeans

I pulled out some of my skinny jeans this morning. It was perfect timing as the hubby took the boy to daycare this morning, so I was alone, well as alone as you can be with two dogs staring you down. Oh I saw the incriminating look in their eyes.  They were mocking the skinny jeans!  They told me not to pull out the skinny skinny jeans....and I didn't go for the skinny skinny jeans either.

I am back down 17 pounds.  Phew! It's been hard work let me tell you.  I started on January 2. The last time I did Atkins, I had 37 lbs off in no time.  It was easy peasy. I felt good and I think I looked pretty good. I bought skinny skinny jeans, with the bling on the back pockets even.  Then.....then...

Then the dreaded vertigo hit.  And it hit with a vengence (do I sense a movie title in there somewhere?). Then a trip to a neurologist who diagnosed me with migraines.  After 20 days of steroids (yuck) and eight weeks of sleeping on the couch and various other meds, the vertigo was gone and 20 lbs was back on.  And it went downhill from there.  Next came the grapefruit babies and menopause and more weight.......sigh.

So here I am today......struggling and depriving myself of delicious carbs in order to get the fat off!  And it's a minute by minute struggle let me tell you! I can hear the Runza fries calling my name...not to mention the delish french bread at Grisanti's....OMG....

I miss my sketti.......and I miss my skinny skinny jeans with the bling!  Maybe by May???

Happy Birthday Gramps and A Gift

Happy Birthday Gpa!  I’m not sure what birthday it would be on earth, probably close to 100, if not over.  It’s been 20 yrs since you passed over, which in and of itself seems impossible. 

Yes and Grandma and Grandpa’s birthdays were one week apart. We always celebrated on the Sunday in between.  I wonder if they liked the shared cake and the shared day? Of course they never complained, they always poo poo’d the idea of us making a big deal, but I know they enjoyed it, especially when I started having kids (the first great-grandkids). 

We always got Grandpa Cigarettes for his birthday. Seems odd doesn’t it?  He didn’t want for much, so that’s what he wanted, until he had his heart attack that is.  Then I can’t remember what we got.  Probably a shirt here, candy there…..dinner out. The usual grandpa stuff.  I can hear his laugh….see his devilish grin as he teased us…… I miss it.

Also this mid-week of tough birthdays, I lost my aunt Dorothy to cancer.  So it has been a rough week.  But in her passing she gave me a gift.  I wasn’t expecting it, but those are the best gifts right?

I went into her funeral with my parents and my one brother, wondering if I would hold it together.  With my grandparents birthdays, I had shed some tears during the week. I have had some serious regret and pain over not being with my Grandma when she passed.  Over not be ALLOWED to be with her and being in so much pain and denial during her dying that I couldn’t fight my aunts, I didn’t fight back, I stayed away and in some sense, denied she was dying.  I think I would have imploded if I had admitted it to myself fully. 

So we get to the church and my aunt was laid out at the back of the church. It was shocking to see her, so thin and frail.  I hadn’t seen her since my parent’s anniversary party, which was 18 months ago.  I cried a little tear and went to the back of the church. Soon the mass started and we got to the pew.  Her youngest son wrote a wonderful eulogy, he really caught the essence of her, and I had a few tears during that.  Next came the priest’s homily. 

Now being a lapsed catholic, I tend to zone out during these.  Half the time, the priests don’t even know the deceased and the other half they drone on and on about some bible verse…….and I start to fade. And with recent developments in Rome,  I feared a long, drawn out lesson on red, Prada shoes if you catch my drift….

But this guy, he did a great job. He really knew my aunt and my cousins. He did a beautiful job.  I really listened.  And nothing about Rome. Nice job. Father I didn’t catch your name.  Right at the end, he kind of stuttered and said “now if any of you harbor any regrets, feel that maybe you didn’t say all you needed to, to Dorothy, maybe you held some anger and you didn’t forgive her, rest assured she is in a place of great forgiveness.  And if you feel she didn’t have a chance to say the things to you that she should have, or should have forgiven you, rest assured, she has. And that goes for all of you with loved ones who have passed on…”  WOW……………

It didn’t flow with what he had been talking about. He seemed to have added it on at the last minute.  He ended with this……he seemed to have been talking right to me.  I feel like my Aunt Dorothy gave me a gift from Heaven right then and there……….probably along with my Grandma….even though they weren’t the same side of the family, mind you.  And my Grandma wasn’t a church goer to boot!!!  But I do feel it was a gift and I accept it as such.

I have released the guilt surrounding my grandma’s death.  She does know I did the best I could and that I loved her.  I did everything I could for her………….and that I loved her. 

Thanks Aunt Dorothy! You knew just what I needed last week……

Happy Birthday Grams!

Today would have been my grandma’s 95^th earthly birthday.  I guess I say earthly because who knows how old are souls are right? She’s on that plane and we’re here so I have to count here, it’s all I’ve got to go on, I’m no Shirley McClaine!

I can’t believe it’s been 5 yrs since we had her big 90^th blow out. It was tons of fun. We had no idea at the time that she only had a few more months with us.  In some ways I’m glad we didn’t know and in others I’m kind of miffed we didn’t.  I wish I had known, wish I spent those remaining months in a more meaningful way with her. 

People tell you make the time you spend with loved ones count.  And you always say right, right. I do I do. I do that.  I don’t take anyone or any time for granted. But do you?  Think about it. Think about those long days at work……..those long weeks when you work overtime….think about the birthday parties you miss, the friends you put off, the invitation you RSVP no too, the calls you screen. 

I didn’t get to spend my grandma’s last days with her.  It wasn’t my choice, it was made for me.  By selfish, jealous people.  Even though it’s been almost 5 yrs it still hurts.  I still apologize to my grandma for not being there. Oh I know she knows now, she’s not angry, she’s forgiven everyone, she’s seen everyone’s heart, everyone’s earthly foibles.  To her it all doesn’t matter, it’s all good. But to me it still does. 

Some day I’ll be able to let it go, but I’m not there yet.  Getting closer but not quite.  I cried myself to sleep last night and today I’ve been asking her to show up in my dreams and talk to me! That would be a great birthday gift……….well to me maybe! But I’ll take it!!!

Happy Earth Birthday Grams!

Menopause Brain

They warn you about it, but you are never fully prepared.  I guess all you can do is laugh at yourself. After all, everyone else is laughing at you.

Yesterday at work, mind you I am working with a bunch of different teams, so I have a wide exposure, and I am working on a screen with transactions. You don't need a lot of information or knowledge about software to understand transactions and that transactions are dated right? So this screen has them by date, and you can filter by date.....apparently this screen automagically filters by date.....but I didn't pay any attention to it. I obviously don't work with this screen much either, but still.....

So I send out a huge email, to a lot of people, saying the screen wasn't displaying any transactions and it was working yesterday.  DUH.  The developer replied back to change the filter to include the dates of the transactions I was looking for since we had rolled over to February.  Slapping forehead. Could I have looked any dumber? And in front of a large audience? Really? 

Then this morning, I wake up to my alarm, go to shut it off and it says 5:38.  Holy cow, it's suppose to be set to 5:30!  I'm late.  I rush to the shower, on auto pilot and start soaping up. As the shower starts waking me up, I get to thinking how odd it is that my alarm went off at 5:38??? My fuzzy wuzzy wittle brain is ticking.....oh well I must have hit snooze, which I usually don't do.  So I get out, wrap up my wet hair and dry off.  I head back out to the bedroom to grab my granny panties sexy Victoria Secret  thong and I glance at the cable box clock and it says 12:02am! What the Fark? Apparently I dreamt the alarm..... and it was enough to wake me up and I went on auto pilot...got up and started getting ready for work!

UGH!  So now I had to finish what I started with my hair.....it was 12:30 by the time I got back to bed.  I also had to stop giggling at myself.......and settle the dogs back down, they were confused as hell too. 

I wonder what other crazy things I'll do today?  Now I'm tired and menopausal.......could be interesting.........

It Must Be Cold!

Sock Girl is wearing Pants!!!!

Santa Never Gets Old

You could read that one of two ways.  Santa never ages.  He's as old as he is and always will be (huh?).  But  what I really mean is that in our house, Santa is still Santa.  He still exists, he is not fiction.  Oh you could tell the boy he isn't real all you wanted too, it wouldn't sink in.  You could draw pictures, show him the receipts from the store, pull out the fake beards, the stuffing, the suits....it wouldn't matter. Santa is real.

There are alot of things that go along with his disability that are delayed and are frustrating for us and for him.  You want to hurry him up, push him along, speed things up (potty training - ahem) but you just can't.  He does things in his own time, in his own way. 

But this, this we get to keep....the magic of Santa!  Once the Christmas decorations go up, the boy starts the countdown to Santa! This year was alittle early since momma was off two days for Thanksgiving and got the decorations out and up, so we've been counting down since November 24 (lord help me he was up all night that night watching for Santa and waking us up every 5 minutes, yes ALL night - squealing SANTA!). We still get to sneak down on Christmas Eve and fill his stocking (and the dog's too, even if they watch and even if they're naughty most of the year) and put out the presents.  We get to watch as he comes down the stairs the next morning, watch as his eyes bug out of his head when he spots the presents on the fireplace and he realizes Santa came while he slept! The reindeer and the sleigh and the big ole bag of toys down and back up the chimney........all for reals!!!!  Santa here! Santa here!! Santa here!!!!

So while we get stuck with alot of crap that goes along with his disability, we have to recognize the good things when they come along.  This is one of them!  We get to be Santa Claus for a long, long time. 

And not everyone can say that!!!

A Favor to Kick off The Holidays!

A very dear friend and her family have decided to adopt a daughter from the Ukraine.  She just happens to have that extra special chromosome we all know and love.  You can spot her blog over on the right http://familyforfiona.blogspot.com/ or just click here.

Many people look for somewhere or someone to donate too during the holidays.  This beautiful little girl needs to come home to her wonderful forever family. So if this touches your heart, the information is on their blog....

What a wonderful way to kick of the season!  Maybe this is miracle number 3!

A Tale of Two Miracles

So I have a friend (I know you're shocked) that I've known for probably nine years or more.  Well let's say she's a friend but we honestly see each other once every six weeks.  We have a standing appointment. That's all the information I'll give.  I like her.  I know alot about her and me her.  We talk bout anything and everything, you name it we've discussed.  From infected toenails, refusing to take a dump in a public bathroom to becoming lesbians (without the sex) and running off without our husbands.  See I wasn't kidding.

Included in our various topics is our kids.  Hers are furry and four legged and mine are furry and four legged and a few are two legged and not so furry.  She loves her nieces and nephews along with her bff's kids.  One of whom is disabled and has a terminal disease. Did I mention said bff is richer than shit? Oh she is.  And she's the bread winner. Type A personality.

My friend has a ton for her bff and the family. Even sold her house and moved next door. The bff travels alot for business and needs help with kids.  Specially the little boy who is sick.  My friend and her husband babysit sometimes overnight, pick up from school, feed and bathe and even wipe butts.  Not always an easy feat for people who don't have kids of their own.  And every year they do a big fund raiser and help out every year.  Go way above and beyond.

This year however, my friend was given some rather bad news. Her 12 yr old niece was diagnosed with an aggressive form of brain cancer.  St Jude's couldn't even help.  She's receiving treatment to ease the size and thus ease the pain but there will not be a cure.  It has been devasting for the whole family.

My friend was organizing a fund raiser for her, doing all she could.  And what did her bff do? Got all in her face, saying she wanted a miracle for her niece but not her son.  It was ugly.  It was selfish.  My friend had been at her beck and call so she could take her fancy trips and run her business without a second thought.  Now her handmaiden had other plans.

My friend was so hurt and upset.  She told her she wanted miracles for both but her niece needs her right now and she couldn't deal with her crap.  The bff even went so far as to text her and say she had to take her son the ER, while my friend was in the ER with her niece, who was having seizures.

Their friendship will never be the same. What a shame.  How can one mother of a very sick child deny another mother of a very sick child?  Can jealousy run deep even in this? How can you tear your dear friend apart when she is suffering?

Barf

Does anyone really care that Justin Bieber and Lady Gaga both barfed on stage? Do we really need to watch the video and talk about it non stop?

really? makes me barf!

Grapefruit Baby

You're probably thinking Oh God another one of those recipe sites where she's going to show us how to make a cute halloween thingy with grapefruit and VOILA a chuckie baby doll!!! Nope I am not that talented people.

In a previous post I think I may have mentioned I have gigantic fibroids.  I have one the size of a grapefruit, one the size of a large apple, one the size of an apricot and tons of little grapes. The gyno called it my fruit basket. She cracks me up! 

While I wait for my menopause shots (did I mention they got postponed to mid month now?), I am lovingly calling it my Grapefruit Baby. After all, my stomach is protruding like about a 6 month pregnancy and a newborn's head is about the size of a watermelon graperfruit isn't it? So hey why deny it? As cold weather approaches, the only clothes I will fit into are maternity clothes - give me the elasto waists. 

I might as well enjoy my last pregnancy. Think anyone will throw me a grapefruit baby shower?  Maybe I'll get an edible arrangement or is that considered canniblism?

Menopause Tomorrow 11:00am

who's with me?