Day 8: The Natives Need a Planner

SW class: Tuesdays and Thursdays 11 am - 12:15 pm

ST class: Work on homework and quizzes during lunch hour on Mondays and Fridays

SW volunteer work: Wednesday afternoons 2-6 pm

Walking: Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays 6-7 pm

Bill paying: Apparently Monday morning at 6:30 am

Rest of life To Be Scheduled...

Red Light, Green Light

If you have never seen Money Talks with Chris Tucker, do yourself a favor and watch this clip: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZOF8wZg4H-4

Elliott's preschool class uses the Traffic Light approach for behavior.

• Green light: Followed directions/minded the teacher
• Yellow light: Not following all directions; getting warnings on behavior
• Red light: Received 3 or more warnings; loss of center time or time out

The moms I'm in contact with are all quite obsessed with this right now. Yes, myself included. Here's where I'm having a "HUH??" moment. Wednesday Elliott was super good for morning drop off, but was on red that day with a note about not using listening ears and being a follower of bad behavior. Yesterday, as if you couldn't guess from my post, was an awful drop off day, but he was on Green yesterday. ???. I have no idea what's going on with him. Sara has a new theory that his moods are a product of too much sugar, which is a valid thought, but one that puts me into extreme panic mode. Take away sugar? I might as well cut off my arms.

CAN Read My Pa-Pa-Pa-Poker Face

Upon entering the cinder block palace this morning, I'm pretty sure the following message was displayed on my face:

Not ready to play nice. Back off. Do not feed the bears. Keep your distance or you might lose a hand. May spew negative comments onto the nicest "good morning" wisher. Out to lunch. May not return socially. My kid is driving me to the brink.

Happy Thursday. Or its literal translation today, Here's a kick in the face free of charge!

MWF Seeks Normalcy...Or Not

As you may have noticed in the past few days, I've been struggling to get myself into a healthily functioning routine for the fall semester. In my deliberations, it occurred to me that I've not really had a "normal" married life. Here is what I've discovered about my roles over the past 11 years:

(1) Single, full-time undergraduate student, working part-time [2 years]

(2) Married, full-time undergraduate student, working part-time [2 years]

(3) Married, part-time graduate student, working full-time at a job I hated [3 years]

(4) Married, working full-time at a job I hated, and pursuing an international adoption WHILE ON LUPRON [1 year]

(5) Married, FINALLY A MOMMY!, working full-time at a job I hated [1 year]

(6) Married, a MOMMY!, working full-time at a job I love [2 years]

(7) Married, a MOMMY!, working full-time at a job I love, and going back to school part-time as an undergraduate student [current]

Wow, two major thoughts remain. First, poor Doug, he deserves sainthood. Second, I might not suck at life quite as much as I previously thought. I have new found respect for myself after composing this list. And I also wonder what the hell I have against a "normal" life? Ha.

Sticker Shock

I was discussing falling off the exercise wagon yesterday with a friend who is also involved in a life-long battle with weight. And in talking, I started flipping back through my calendar to note, courtesy of my stickers that Sara so geniusly thought up, that OMG, I suck. I wish I could insert that emoticon of the horrified smiley face because it is that bad. Allow me to demonstrate, all the way back to late January when I began:

August=2 stickers (and counting!)
July=1 sticker (though that does not include vacation activities)
June=3 stickers
May=10 stickers
April=15 stickers
March=12 stickers
February=15 stickers
January=2 stickers (but I started at the end of the month).

I blame summer school and the loss of my workout buddy for the down slide recently. Ok, ok, I blame myself. Sigh.

Schedule Me This

Ok, so I'm back in school taking two classes this fall -- one on campus two days a week and one online. So I'm trying to remember how to work homework back into my routine. I've never been able to effectively clean house on a schedule, but I'm especially bad at it when I'm in school. And my current physique states quite loudly that I've never been able to effectively incorporate an exercise regime. So, riddle me this, how am I supposed to now do ALL these things at one time, on top of being E's mom?

So now, ladies and gentlemen, I will try to schedule the impossible! For me, anyway. I have established a walking schedule (thanks, Eddie!) and somewhat of a HW routine. Now I just have to marry those together with home life. Thank goodness my man actually helps around the house.

Oh, and did I mention I'll now be volunteering 1 afternoon a week starting in September?

Day 2: The Natives Are Getting Restless

But don't blame the Lupron.

I am very fond of saying it's the little things in life that make me happy. Unfortunately, it's also the little things in life that really piss me off. And when there is a simultaneous collection of little things...look out, world! Here is the current list of things driving me to the edge of the cliff:

(1) My house is DIRTY. Not sure why it didn't occur to me to make sure it was clean before the fall semester began.

(2) My cat is a freak. She is allergic to fleas, which causes her to get horrible scabs, which then fly through the air with hair when she scratches, which is all the time. Until she gets her shot, life is nearly unbearable with her.

(3) Doug was too busy on his day off yesterday to take Priss for above-mentioned shot. Can you see the look on my face right now?

(4) The fleas are out of control again and are leaving the free meal bank that are the cats and moving into the carpet. This item alone could send me over the edge.

(5) ELLIOTT...DAYCARE DROP OFF...OVERLY EMOTIONAL CHILD...that's all I'm going to say about that right now.

(6) I seem to have come down with a cold in the last 12 hours.

(7) I am constantly late to work (reference #5 above).

(8) I can't get my DSL to work at the house.

Plan of action coming soon. I hope.

Day 1: The Natives Are Friendly

Well, the time has come. The first shot has been plunged into my beefy backside. First 15 hours and all is well. Now will someone tell Doug to stop saying stupid things like, "WOE IS ME - THE WORLD IS ENDING - MY WIFE IS BACK ON THE LUPRON - LIFE AS I KNOW IT HAS CEASED!"

Hear Ye, Hear Ye

By official proclamation of the Mother, Elliott will no longer be allowed to drink sweet tea from LAF at night. I will not be weak, I will not relent!

Love Me Some MasterCard

8 hours in Same Day Surgery: $TBD

Anesthesiologist's bill: $TBD

Doctor's bill: $TBD

20 Lortabs for pain: $10.99

Ultram for pain: $12

Lupron shots: $60/month for 6 months

Having a friend who will give you a shot in the ass every month: PRICELESS.

Reservation for 1 in Crazy Town

I have been heard on many occasions swearing off ever taking another round of Lupron treatments. I have been heard borrowing phrases from other Lupron survivors such as "I'll never do that to my marriage again" and "I've visited Crazy Town, and I don't want to go back." I've been seen illogically shaking my head no as if I'm 3 years old and incapable of intelligent response...as has Doug when his opinion is sought in this matter. But alas, I have been convinced to give it another go. Oh, if you don't know, Lupron is a suppression drug used after laparoscopies to further restrain the mighty endo.

Though my reservation is for 1 in Crazy Town, I may be seen arriving with a sidecar destined for Hell. Inside will be my closest friends and loved ones. Pray for them starting now. :)

No Sleep for the Anesthetized

Emily vs needles: 0 to Infinity
Emily vs anesthesia: 2 to 0

I had my second laparoscopy last week to remove some of the raging demon also known as endometriosis. I had my first one in 2005 under the supervision of an idiot who I no longer see nor can I speak of without using the word idiot or multiple expletives. Apparently self diagnosis wasn't enough for that moron...surgery for the sake of diagnosis without removal...he was quite the doc. Anyhoo, now that I see THE MAN (read with Heavenly choir accompanying) I had a lap the correct way. And just like last time, as soon as they brought me back from recovery, Hello! I'm awake! I did not sleep the rest of the day. I even had trouble sleeping that night. Doc tried to tell me I wouldn't remember what he was telling me before they released me. Wrong-o. Apparently there is some revenge in the world. If I have to be the world's biggest fainter, at least I also get to be a hoss when it comes to anesthesia. My walk now contains an egotistical swagger.

Arroz con Leche

In early 2007 when Holly, Michelle and I were in NYC, we ate at a Cuban restaurant in the theater district before seeing Mamma Mia. A few months before that, I had bought Elliott a CD of Spanish lullabies, and one of the songs on it was titled, "Arroz con Leche." I know enough Spanish to know that meant rice with milk. But I couldn't for the life of me figure out why that was a lullaby. I asked my friend Roberto about it, and he let me know that it's a dessert. Please note that at that point my mind did not get that "OH!" moment it should have. Arroz con leche = rice pudding! So anyhoo, we are at the Cuban restaurant, and I see it on the menu, and I start singing the lullaby. I thought I was singing quietly. Apparently not quietly enough because the waiter heard me...and he brought us a free order of rice pudding! So, friends, let it be known that I sang for my supper in the theater district of NYC. And was not boo'd.

I had a craving for rice pudding the other night, and the only recipe I have for it takes TWO HOURS. Ridiculous. But the craving was strong, so I went for it. I told Elliott I was making dessert, so he was periodically checking in on the status of the dessert. When it was ready, I scooped him a bowl, told him it was hot, then went in the living room. I ate mine (delicious!) then went to check on him (he and Doug were watching a movie elsewhere). His bowl looked untouched. I let him know it was cool enough to eat now, to which he quickly let me know he did not like rice pudding. I felt really bad about the whole build up of dessert that he didn't end up liking. So the next morning I told him I was sorry he didn't like the dessert I made. And he responded: "Next time, make a cake. It be better for me." :)

Get In Shape Girl

Remember my strategy about Back to Basics? Well last night I decided to apply that to working out. My gym membership runs out at the end of this month, and due to daycare, the house payment and some other bill I can't think of right now going up, I've decided not to renew. I have a PAID FOR treadmill at home as well as at least 4 workout DVDs. So last night I became reacquainted with Denise Austin. And Elliott met her for the first time. He thought this activity was really fun, and not only was he working out with me but he was repeating the inspiration phrases. "You are doing good! Keep it up!" Just what I need, a 4-foot tall trainer. So I start out and I realize I need an exercise mat. Run to the hall closet and take out the mat I requested several years ago for Christmas -- the mat that I can count on my pinkies how many times I've used. Ok, mat, check. Then she starts talking about dumbbells. Shit, mine are out in the shop, and I'm not navigating the mine field in my good tennis shoes. Go to pantry (see, I do listen to those how to save money articles) but I cannot find anything the same size and weight. Hmm, ponder. Go back to living room, select 2 of my brass "See no, Hear no, Speak no" monkeys; Elliott grabs the 3rd one. Ok, brass monkey dumbbells, check. Working out, now she says I need a stability ball. GEEZ, DENISE, I'M TRYING TO SAVE MONEY HERE! I should interject that if I had actually completed this workout before, I would have known about the stability ball. Ok, so now I'm using my PRETEND stability ball. About 15 minutes into this 20 minute workout when they were laying on the ball I said f-it and cut it off. But when I sneezed this morning it really hurt my abs, so it must have been worth something.

Round 2 coming soon...

Felix Felicis

I absolutely love the part in the 6th Harry Potter (the book and the movie) when Harry drinks the liquid luck and then completely changes the plan he has just outlined with Hermione and Ron. When they protest he simply says, "It's the right thing to do." The potion gave him the ability to trust his instincts with certainty. How lucky for him! There are some areas of my life where I do trust my instinct. And then there are the others. I'm not talking about turning your back on prayerful consideration, I'm talking about trusting our God-given instincts when applicable. Give it some thought. I know I am.

Do You Dress Left or Right?

You know how all those women's magazines keep touting that the little changes in weight loss add up? "Take as many extra steps as you can because they add up." Well then I must be burning tons of calories! For some reason we continue to seek out residences that strangely accommodate our clothes. For instance, in our first house there was 1 closet in the master bedroom. It was Doug's. Only one dresser fit in the bedroom. It too was Doug's. But Doug also had a small dresser in the den. Nope, not kidding. My closet was in extra bedroom #2. My dresser, however, was in extra bedroom #1. I once described how we had to rotate around our house to dress to a former student worker (who I miss so; wishing you well, MY), and she laughed until she cried and then asked for a video of the craziness. So when we moved last year, we seemed to get it a little more under control. The "master" bedroom has 3 closets: 1 Doug uses for his church clothes, 1 Doug uses for his casual clothes, and 1 was my closet. My only closet. Doug was also utilizing the hall closet for his work uniforms as well as the entire den closet (massive) for his hunting crap. And then there is the 2nd hall closet for coats (the world's best hall closet); I'm still amazed that my old house has this much storage. But I digress. That bedroom also only accommodated one dresser, but I persuaded Doug to let mine stay (since for 6 years mine had been outside the bedroom); not to mention that Doug gets up at 5 am. So his dresser was once again in the den, which made sense when he was actually using the 2nd bathroom as his own. He invaded mine during the winter, and I can't seem to kick him back out. Anyhoo, since the bedroom switcharoo, we are back to dressing insanity. Here goes:

• (New) Master bedroom: my dresser, Doug's dresser, Doug's work uniform closet
  
  
• Hall: my newly relocated closet; shoes still sitting in tubs outside it
  
  
• Elliott's new room: my former closet is now his closet; Doug's 2 closets in there remain

Yep, just another day in the life...

P.S. Anyone know the movie I'm giving a shout out to in the title?