Tuesday, December 27, 2011

I love presents..

No, really, I do. I mean, I REALLY love presents. Not just getting them either, I love giving them, wrapping them, receiving them, watching others give and receive them, etc. etc. I just love presents. One of the reasons I couldn't get into the holiday spirit this year was because I had decided, for many reasons, to simplify my life and give out only gift cards. I do credit this decision for saving my sanity, I needed things to be simple since I am THAT close to a mental break, but it still kinda deflated the whole joyfulness thing (although, I think the recipients of my gift cards were rather pleased).
Personally, I do enjoy the gift card, I like having the power to go choose the things I want for myself, but what I love even more is receiving something that someone else picked out just for me. Just knowing someone spent time thinking of something they thought I would like makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Once I have been given a gift, I will always remember who gave it to me and I will think of that person when I am using/wearing/looking at the gift...(see I can be deep and meaningful)
I am sure I place too much importance on what a gift says about my relationship with the giver, but at least I acknowledge that! This year, however, my love affair with presents has left me a little befuddled. For the most part, the gift giving/receiving went as planned, and I got some very thoughtful gifts for which I am grateful, (I can't say the gifts I gave were thoughtful because although gift cards are many things, thoughtful is not one of them). But, at one of the family Christmas gift exchanges I attended, I received two gifts that left me scratching my head.
The first was a box of sugar-free chocolate covered almonds. To me, this gift says many things which are not limited too:
1. When we stopped at Walgreens, on the way here, this was all they had left.
2. Hey, you're so fat, we thought you could possibly be diabetic so we went with the sugar free.
3. We hate you.

The second gift I got was a pair of tarnished, silver earrings that look like giant insect wings. Maybe a dragonfly, I just don't know. This gift says so much, like:
1. Your face is so hideous I thought you could distract people with a giant pair of wings hanging from your ears.
2. I bought this for someone else, years ago, and forgot to give it to them, so SCORE for you.
3. I don't think enough of you to even try to hide the fact these earrings have been sitting in the back of a closet for years. The tarnish will come off easily and you will be so purdy.
4. This will look so good while you're petting your 32 cats.
5. I hate you.

I hate to seem ungrateful and there is a decent chance that no one saw the amused indifference on my face. I mean, a gift is a gift and I am happy just to be thought of...I'm just not sure I want to know what people are thinking when they think of me...
I guess I'll go drown myself in a box sugar-free chocolate covered almonds, I have some of those you know!!!!

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Watching it go up in smoke...

Well, Christmas is two days away, and honestly, it couldn't feel less like the holidays around here. I'm pretty much hating that other people are happy and joyful right now, and I'm hating myself for not being able to make it all ok for my kids. I hate that they may look back at this Christmas and remember nothing but SUCK!!!
What had happened was...
My husband has had a bad back for most of our relationship. His back will go out, and then it will get better. That is just the way it has been for the last 11 years or so. So, when his back went out this summer I really didn't get too concerned. The problem is that his back is still 'out' and it has been about 5 months.
Right before Thanksgiving, her decided to cash in his 3 months of short term disability to focus on physical therapy and try to get better. One of the great things about his job, and there are many great things, is the fabulous benefits. He gets 3 months of fully paid leave, then his pay goes down to 65%. The 65% thing is scary, but we could manage it for awhile...
He has seen SEVERAL doctors, neurologist, neurosurgeons, orthopedic surgeons and now a pain management Dr. and they have almost all said the same thing, patience and physical therapy. We recently went to a Dr. who is recommending ALIF surgery, also known as spinal fusion, on the two 'bad' discs he has. This is major scary surgery and we've had a 2nd opinion with a Dr. who thinks he should wait it out a bit, but my husband is fixated. He is thinking this surgery is going to 'fix' him. This is despite the fact that both the first opinion and 2nd opinion are telling him that there is no way to tell if it will be the fix or not. We don't even know if the insurance would pay for it, so it is possible that it may NEVER happen anyway...
The real problem is...
My husband is not working. There is also no way to predict when he will be able to get back to work. His job is only guaranteed for 6 months, after that they do not have to give him his spot back. If he continues with the PT he can go back as soon as he feels good enough. If he has the surgery it is at least a 3 month recoup. period. His drop dead date is May 11th. which seems so far off, but really it isn't. It is ironic because he found out he had the job on March 11. He began on April 11th, so it just seems appropriate that he could lose the job on May 11th.
Here's the thing...
He LOVES his job. It really defines him in a lot of ways. I cannot even make myself imagine him without it for sooooooo many reasons. First of all he makes good money. Money we depend on, money we have based major life decisions on money we NEED to get by. I know money isn't everything, but it is definitely something!!!! And the benefits, he could have comparable benefits if he stays in the same industry, but it scares me shitless to think we could lose everything this company does for our lives. I mean we pay $120/month for awesome health insurance for the entire family, who gets that???? It is a shift work job, but that really works for our family. My husband has so much more time with the kids than he would otherwise. He is so close with our 4 year old because they spend all his off days together, he's off 6 months out of the year... He's almost always available to go to their school or to get them in the afternoon, etc. etc. There are drawbacks to the shift work, but for us, the benefits far outweigh them.
When it comes down to it, I know that no job is more important than his health and happiness. I get that. I want him to feel good and be capable of the life he wants more than anything else, BUT I am SCARED. I am scared that we depend on his back to support us because I make less than half of what he makes, and now we may lose everything. There is no plan B. I can't stop crying and stressing and worrying. I watch his every move to see if he looks better or worse. I study his facial expression for any sign of hope that he is improving and on the days he isn't I can hardly take it. When I am clear headed I can rationalize that even if he loses this job, he is still very capable of finding another good one where he will be happy, assuming that he gets better...BUT what if he never gets better? Then what?

Friday, September 16, 2011

The "T" word.

I'm not sure if blogging about this is the right thing to do, but writing is how I process my thoughts and feelings, so read if you want and judge if it makes you feel better. This is real life, not some sugar coated version of things that I am hoping to remember later. If you can't handle that "X" out and don't come back.

My oldest son has been diagnosed with Tourette's. I won't get into the details, just because it is boring, but I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't devastated. I have cried everyday for over two weeks now (even before he was officially diagnosed, I knew). I want to help him, I want to make it better, I want to be able to crawl into his brain and flip the switch that makes him tic. I can't, and it KILLS me.
Apparently, his is a pretty mild case, but the future is unknown. I have spent many hours reading about Tourette's and though it does seem that once you have it it is there to stay, it also looks like, as you move through adolescence, it gradually gets better, for most people, and the tics become fewer and further between. The version of Tourette's, where people are randomly cursing or yelling out words is actually very rare, a fact I'm finding A LOT of comfort in.
I hate everything about this.
I hate that I know people will read this and be grateful it isn't them and their child. They will go and kiss and hug their tic free kids and thank god for their good fortune. I HATE them for that. If I believed in god I'd be so fucking pissed off at him right now. I don't want prayers or support or pity, I just want to rewind 3 weeks. To go back to the time before he started having all these crazy tics. This is so fucking unfair.
I want to be a rock of support for my child. I want him to feel loved and cherished. I want him to know that he has Tourette's but Tourette's DOES NOT have him. I want him to love himself. I'm so fucking scared that I do not have the right tools to help him deal with this. I am so disappointed in myself for the way I've reacted to the news. Of course, I haven't let him know I'm feeling this way. I am putting on a brave face for him, but he knows me well enough to know I'm sad.
I try to only cry when I am alone. Car rides are the worst, as soon as I get in the car by myself I just go ahead and put on my sunglasses because the tears are inevitable.
I have cried myself to sleep every night, if I wake up to pee, I cry myself to sleep again. I wish I could take his tics and give them to myself. I'm an adult with a solid self esteem, I could give a fuck what people think of me, why does this crap have to happen to a child who is entering the one of the hardest times in his life, junior high?!?!? It is so fucking UNFAIR.

I know I sound angry, I am. I can't release the feelings anywhere else but here on this blog. Feel free to judge my reaction, I really don't give a shit. I am feeling sorry for myself and my son. I'm sure one day I won't, but today is not that day.
I know this isn't the worst thing that could've happened to us, I get that. But that doesn't change the fact that it really, really sucks!

Friday, June 17, 2011

Enough Said.

I know I have a tendency to reveal too much about myself, so in order to be discreet I'm not going to SAY much...

I just made the appointment.

I'm already a little nauseated.

But soon, what once looked like this:

Stop judging me, I'm German.

Will soon look like this:

Two more days....

Enough said.

I'm going to go vomit, repeatedly, now.

Edited to add: Okay, much to my surprise it wasn't THAT bad, I only said "motherf*cker" twice, and I never lost consciousness.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Welcome to my home, please fart in my kitchen.

Ok, I realize I am lacking in the area of social skills, and I have suspected, occasionally, that I'm just a little autistic because there are so many social expectations and customs that I just. do. not. get! The unfortunate part for me is that other people see my lack of participation in these customs as a sign that I am a total bitch. Side Note: I am a total bitch, just not for this reason.
More to the point, we have been spending a lot of time with some friends of ours, here at our house. It is a beautiful relationship because they have 4 kids, all the perfect ages to get along with our three, and I get along with the wife and The hub gets along with the husband. We have even planned a vacation together this summer, and I'm so excited!! After spending a couple weekends together, swimming, eating and drinking (too much) the wife, we'll call her Eugenia, told me that I was rude for not ever offering her a drink when she comes over, she always has to get a one for herself.
Wait, what?
Eugenia went on to inform me that you're supposed to offer people a drink when they come over and I never do it, then she took it a little too far when she also mentioned that I don't have anything good to drink anyway (I guess that's neither here nor there, but I wanted to mention it to point out that I'm not the only rude person on the planet).
Of course I am aware that this drink thing is meant as a means to make guests feel more at home in your house, but why a drink?
Whenever I go to another person's house I don't get randomly thirsty upon crossing their threshold. A drink just seems so arbitrary? Why not ask them if they'd like to go flush the toilet or fart in the kitchen? Why is it a drink? I can think of about 10 other things I could offer my guests that could make them feel at home and are just as random as a drink.
* Come in, would you like to fold the towels?
* Hey there, would you like to use my pen?
* Can I offer you dryer sheet?
* Please come in, help yourself to some garlic powder.
* Would you like some paper to make an airplane with?
* Welcome to my home, would you like to sniff my laundry room?
* Come on in, see if you can find my dildo.
* Welcome, feel free to count the boogers on the wall next to my son's bed...
...ok, You get the point...
I know you're sitting there thinking "What the hell is wrong with this woman?!?!" and, well, if I could answer that I probably wouldn't have just written an entire blog post about how baffled I am about needing to offer someone a drink when they come to my house in order for them to NOT think I'm a rude bitch. Alas, I am flawed, and rude, and Eugenia (along with anyone else) is just going to have to get over it.

But, if you do ever come over to my house, please help yourself to a drink because I won't remember to offer you one, or you could just make it easy on all of us and just go fart in my kitchen.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011


So I DO NOT have a brain tumor :)
I am no longer deaf in my right ear either :)
I do have Cochlear Hydrops, and I still have to take a daily medicine to treat it :(
But it might not ever progress past that (aka, I might not start randomly falling down after all) :)
Just thought you should know!

Sunday, April 24, 2011

8 Reasons I think Easter is lame.

*I don't hate Jesus, I'm just not Christian.
*A bunny that hides eggs is STUPID, no bunnies hide anything at my house.
*I DO NOT need any unsolicited chocolate at my house.
*I don't eat ham.
*Deviled eggs are overrated, but I do love the irony of serving them at an Easter lunch;)
*I don't want to take leftovers home, my in-laws get offended by this.
*I have found it is better to lie and say that I do celebrate Easter than to tell people the truth. I mean really, is there anything better than someone trying to save me and my poor heathen children in the middle of the grocery store?
* I do NOT want to go to church with you, or you or you, and I'm tired of explaining why.

On the other hand, those cadbury mini-eggs are freaking fabulous, disregard the 8 bullet points above if that is the Easter you'd like to share with me.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Things to think about...

I had an MRI of my brain today. I thought I would get claustrophobic, but I didn't.
It wasn't too bad.
It's a rather sobering experience when a doctor wants to check your brain for tumors and such. I'm not all that worried, but I'd be lying if I said that I haven't been pondering the possibilities....
I just want to live long enough to mother my children into adulthood and a brain tumor could get in the way of that.
I'm really not worried.
It is funny, though, how long it has taken me to get to know myself.
I just realized that when I worry, you know,the neurotic-all encompassing, stomach wrenching type of worry, it's usually when I have absolutely no reason to.
When I have cause for worry, I get this weird calm about me, I get all philosophical and, to be honest, kind of douchey.
See what a big person I am for being able to admit that about myself? Yeah, I'm impressed by that too.

Another thing I learned today...
Don't fart in an MRI machine when you still have 40 minutes of scan to sit through...

Saturday, April 2, 2011


I have a sick and twisted sense of humor, this is a fact about myself I've never tried to hide (not that I could if I wanted to). I laugh at inappropriate things, often in an otherwise quiet room. I say things that, I think, are hilarious, but other people find offensive. I crack myself up, while people stare at me with a blank expression. You get the point!
One of the things that I find totally hilarious is when someone falls down. I know I'm not alone in this, but I am one of the few people that lack the first, seemingly instinctual, reaction of finding out if the person is okay BEFORE I bend over laughing at them. I can't help it, if someone falls down (or even has a near miss) I'm probably going to laugh until I cry, fart or snort. The time I am most ashamed of was when I was starting a new teaching job (for principal bitchface) and I was attending all the new teacher orientations before the school year. For one of the trainings we had to ride a bus to another location, and, well, long story short, the lady directly behind me on the bus BUSTED HER ASS coming down the stairs to get off. My reaction was not Kosher and I did not make any friends that day, but it wasn't completely my fault since the lady made some really ridiculous groaning noises after her tumble. I'm pretty sure if I had tried not to laugh I would've stroked out right there. I did feel a twinge of guilt when she showed up the next day wearing some sort of ridiculous, fully-loaded, ankle-boot, but whatever!
The Kharma part is coming, just stay with me!
About 4 months ago, I got a sinus infection that moved to my ear. My ear just felt full and I couldn't hear anything out of it. I went to the Dr. a few times, trying to get my ear back to functional and, well, that has yet to happen. This week, I finally got serious and went to an ENT, not just any ENT, THE ENT in Houston. His report was not what I wanted to hear, I have sudden onset nerve deafness in my ear that is probably permanent. I can still hear most of the range of human voice, but I will have trouble hearing deep men's voices (this may be a benefit living in my house). Because I am young, and otherwise healthy, I have to do some tests to rule out all the big bad causes like tumors and such, there is a very low chance of these actually being the cause, (no, I'm not concerned).
And now for the Kharma...
What he thinks the diagnosis will end up being is something called cochlear hydrops which is often the beginning of Miniere's disease. Miniere's disease isn't fatal, but can be debilitating because of the sudden and intense episodes of vertigo which cause people to...



I'm hoping this is not the diagnosis, but looking at all the options, this one isn't the worst. The vertigo will go away eventually after something called "burn-out" which means total deafness in the ear. I just hope I'm not surrounded by people like me, when I randomly drop to the floor. Someone's gonna have to help me get back up....

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Still here...

I'm still here, just REALLY REALLY busy. So busy, in fact, that I keep thinking I should shut this "blog" down, but it isn't hurting anything sitting idle and sometimes I amuse myself by going back into old posts.
I do have ALOT to write about too, just no time to write or even process what is going on enough to form a coherent thought.

My birthday is tomorrow and I have to say I'm a little disappointed. For some (completely illogical reason) I thought 33 was going to be MY year. It wasn't. On a happy note, it looks like I should finish my degree in about 18 more months (or 2 years, whatever)! I'm pretty sure I still have a job for next school year AND my marriage, which was on the verge, is now better than ever! SOOOO Maybe 34 is MY year...Guess we'll see!