28 February 2009

my sudafed has worn off

i'm sick.

literally, i'm sick. do i have a cough due to cold? (ten points to the person who knows what movie that comes from!) why yes, yes i do. i have so much cough and so much cold i sound like i'm heaving up my pancreas. i cough all day, i cough all night - i'm coughing so much the dog won't even sleep in the bedroom because i keep him awake.

if that's not irony, i don't know what is.

i didn't go to work today. i'm not missing anything, i wasn't scheduled to go to work today, but it had crossed my mind that working could be good for me, even just to get out of the house and make some dollars. and then i got up at 5:03 a.m., when the alarm went off (because i hate setting my alarm for a "normal" time, like 5:00 or 6:45, it's just one of those things i like to do), took the dog outside, saw that it had snowed and promptly went back to bed, hacking up my organs along the way. i just wasn't in the mood to deal with assy people (coworkers and customers) or get the car dirty. although if i'd gone out in the snow i could have worn my cute new rain boots...

oh well. i think i'm just pissy because i don't feel well. maybe my mood will be better later.

27 February 2009

i'm not gonna lie, this behavior is out of character.

would you say that desperation has set in? in my search for something, anything, to do to get out of the house and stop wallowing in my current situation - i have chosen to come to work.

pick your jaw up, i'm telling you the truth.

now i know what you're saying - superjanel, are you sick? yes, yes i am - i have an awful cold and cough, but that's not the reason. superjanel, have you gone mad? no, not really, no more than usual anyway.

folks, i'm just tired of staring at the same walls and pretending that sitting there doing nothing is going to make things better. long story short, it's not. and so i'm moving on, picking up what pieces i can pick up and attempting to make a bad situation better, at least for me and baby.

so here i am. i brought my cold and cough to work with the intention of infecting every person around me, except that it's friday night and there's hardly anyone here. so i may have to come back tomorrow...

but it's been a quiet week. have you ever heard me say that? i should say it again: it's been a quiet week. any drama that i've participated in has been largely self-created, because i don't see a certain someone else giving a rat's ass about me or this baby. but really - i've gone to work, i've gone home, i've walked the dog, i've eaten semi-healthy meals (except for the night i ate the entire frozen pizza), i've done all the laundry and kept the house clean - and i've had time to just sit back, relax and watch a lot of the weather channel.

i think it's good for me.

24 February 2009

so... what's next?

i got the answers i was looking for. not necessarily the answers i wanted to hear but least now i'm not left wondering. i spent many hours yesterday near hysteria; i felt like i couldn't pull it together - i felt like i wouldn't be able to pull it together. and i realize now that i don't have any choice. it's no longer sink or swim because i don't have the option of sinking. kind of scary, kind of fascinating. i've made bad decisions before but i've always had someone to bail me out. this time is different.

22 February 2009

questions no one can answer

without going into the gory details, let me just say that my weekend has been perfectly awful. i've been places and seen things that i've never wanted to see - an experience that was completely unjustified and totally avoidable, were the bee and i not so dramatic and stubborn and stupid. that being said, the events that took place this weekend leave me in what i consider a difficult place. i know what others think i should do and i know what my head is telling me to - but for some reason, i can't turn my heart off. i can't make the pain go away. and no matter what the final outcome is between the two of us, there will always be this connection, this baby, and the knowing that things weren't always as bad as they were recently - and that breaks my heart.

i love the bee. i love him more than i should; i let him walk all over me and then come back and do it again. i love him in spite of the faults that i know that he has and probably will never overcome. but i don't know if that's enough to repair the damage that's been done. i'm sad. i'm heartbroken. i'm angry. i'm humiliated over the things that took place. and yet, part of me is still waiting to hear, waiting to see. and knowing that i'm probably the only one that cares is tearing me apart.

how do i turn that off? how do i walk away? when does this get easier? when did it become okay to be so weak?

19 February 2009

the zoo in the bedroom.

i sleep with a dog, two rabbits - and lately, a goose.

you know about the dog. pootie likes to wiggle right in between us at night. the rabbits, well, you probably don't know about these unless you're privy to the embarrassing details that go along with being the janel, which means that if you don't know, i'm not going to tell you.

but the goose? this one's new.

the bee's snoring has gone from mildly annoying to absolutely sleep depriving. sleep depriving for me, that is. because somehow he's able to sleep through the snot-sniffling-bed-shaking-comforter-fluffing-GOOSE-HONKING racket that he makes in his slumber. i swear, it sounds like we're raising canadian geese in the bedroom. we've tried the throat spray, the nose strips - he even talked to the doctor today about the possibility of sleep apnea. (the doctor says it's not likely and i have to agree - in spite of all the noise, i never notice that he's not breathing. i guess it's possible i can't hear his gasping for air over the honking and snorting but probably not.)

does anyone have any suggestions for living with a chronic snorer? i've offered to hold a pillow over his face on a couple different occasions but so far the bee's not too keen on that idea.

i'm at my wit's end over my lack of sleep. and i can't even blame it all on him - there are nights when the dog keeps me awake, having to go outside or hogging the bed or whatever. more often than not, i'm awake because i can't get comfortable, stay comfortable or i have to pee. i'm peeing 4-6 times a night, which isn't doing anything for my sleep habits. combine that with the fact that it takes a good 5 minutes to comfortably (ha!) roll over and another 5 minutes to get comfortable (ha!) once i get back to bed and suddenly a trip to the bathroom and back takes at least 15 minutes, start to finish.

good times.

i've altered my work schedule (and gone part-time, did i ever mention that?) to allow me to be home in the afternoon so i can try to nap and catch up on sleep. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

today was a day that it didn't work.

this morning the bee and i decided to leave the pootie out of his kennel in an attempt to let him be a big dog - a few hours home alone to see if he can handle a little freedom. the short answer? no. the dog cannot handle freedom. long answer? i will never, never, ever allow this dog to be unkenneled when there is no one home ever again.

i was sitting at my desk this morning and i just had this feeling that something was going wrong with the dog. so i left at 11 instead of noon and had visions of finding shoes and rugs shredded in the middle of the living room floor.

no such luck. i came home to find a happy pootie waiting at the door when i came in. he then led me upstairs to show me his morning's work. he'd pulled everything within his reach (and he must have inspector gadget stretchy arms) off the counters and onto the floor with the intent of destroying it.

and he succeeded. he succeeded in tearing apart my new purse and my make up bag, eating a bottle of lotion, three sticks of chapstick, about 12 ink pens, a handful of cough drops and a $24 tube of bright pink lip gloss, which is now ground so far into the carpet you can see it in the garage below. it took nearly an hour to clean it all up and i still can't get the pink spots out of the carpet. when i looked at him a little closer, i could see he had pink slime hanging off his lips, cough drop menthol breath and black and blue ink all over his white paws. and he still smells a little strange even now, about 12 hours later.

good times.

so instead of napping like i wanted to do, i had to be the disciplinarian. pootie had to sit in his kennel and watch me scrub and vacuum the floor. it wasn't a good afternoon. but it was the perfect topping to a awfully crappy morning. i don't feel like going into it but suffice to say i won't work for the gestapo much longer.

anyway. i have other things i could talk about but all i'm doing is complaining. wahh, wahh, wahh... that and i really have to pee so i'm logging off. hopefully tomorrow is better.

17 February 2009

bueller? bueller?

i went back to work today. it'd been a week since i'd been there. between being all infected and just plain forgetting to go one day, it's a wonder i still had a job. in spite of despising giant conglomerate bank, i was actually a little concerned that my job might be in jeopardy. but my badge worked and no one tried to wrestle me out the door or stop me from using the ice machine, so i must be okay. that said, giant conglomerate bank isn't very likely to tell you that you're screwing up until they're ready to fire you and even then it seems you don't even know that's happening until they tap you on the shoulder and say, "let's go talk in the quiet room."

i'm trying to keep a positive attitude about work by reminding myself on a daily basis (or an hourly basis if needed) that i only have 50 days of work left until baby brodie is due to arrive. i can handle 50 days of work... maybe.

other than do my portions at work, i didn't do a lot today. i transformed the bee's bathroom from a truck stop bathroom to a respectable looking bathroom and all for under $20. (i hate walmart but i love the clearance aisle. and it even matches the whorehouse red paint the landlord slapped on the walls; ugh.) when we moved into this place i asked the bee to go buy stuff for his bathroom. he came back with a 99-cent white shower curtain liner and a trash can and proclaimed he'd "decorated."

he's such a boy sometimes.

other than that, i guess i've really got nothing. things are good in the land of the janel and the bee, as good as normal, i guess. stuff is going on with other people in my life but nothing i really want to comment on here; i'm trying to remember that not all relationships involve me or my opinion. for someone that likes to talk as much as i like to talk, that can be hard to do. but i'm giving it my best effort and just trying to be supportive.

that's it, that's all i got. maybe i'll have something spectacular tomorrow. check back.

12 February 2009

yeah... i got nothing.

i've had no inspiration the last few days. what i have had is a trip to labor and delivery for back pain that turned out to be a simple bladder infection and a trip to the doctor's office for head pain that turned out to be a sinus infection.

i'm infected coming and going. literally.

labor and delivery, oh my, that was three hours of my life not-so-well-spent on a sunday afternoon. i go in for back pain and what do they make me do? lie on my back. ouch. and it is a labor to get there and i wish that someone would just deliver my ass fed-ex style to the welcome desk to check in. really, couldn't someone have planned that out just a little better - park six blocks away on level three of the orange ramp, cross the skywalk bridge and go around the corner, down the mile-long hallway (granted, there are benches in case you get winded and need a break or just want to stop and have a sandwich and a nap; how thoughtful...), around the other corner and take the elevator down a floor. or you can risk parking your car in the ghetto and coming right up on the elevator but the hospital takes no responsibility if your car is up on blocks when you get back.

so i was given an antibiotic and a codeine pill for pain. janel + codeine = a randy good time for those around her. once i came to about a day and a half later, i had to apologize to the bee for spending the better part of sunday afternoon waxing poetic on the lame setup of qualifying for the daytona 500. because apparently a little codeine brings out the "hulse" in me - i become an expert on everything and anything and what i don't know i'll just make up.

oh my.

so that was sunday and most of monday. on tuesday i woke up with a raging sinus headache, the kind that makes you want to poke your own eyes out. tuesday night we had our first round of what i call "baby school" - baby classes for expecting parents. our first class was a wholly (un)engaging "baby finance 101" presented by a lawyer and a financial planning advisor.

snore. thankfully there is no sophomore-level baby finance 201. we've graduated and we're done with babies and money. we know that we will have no money once the baby gets here; therefore, we are experts. move aside boring lawyer-types, i'm teaching the next round. our next class in baby school is "childbirth preparation" and at least i know i'll be getting a massage during one of these four meetings. plus i get to carry around a blanket and two pillows for a nap in case i just can't take it anymore.

wednesday i went to a doctor here in ankeny for my sinus headache. my whole head was on fire (and still is, actually) and so i got to see dr. beentothezoo. no really, his name sounds exactly like that. dr. beentothezoo said no more antibiotics - get a neti pot and some sudafed and relax. so i did. and while a neti pot is somewhat conducive to cleaning out my sinuses and relieving some of the pressure, it's not really all that great for relaxing. because the sensation of drowning in salt water doesn't relax me. beyond that, there's some gross stuff up there and because i'm rinsing it all out, i have to look at it and that's not very relaxing either. in fact, that's just gross. but it sort of helps and i'll try anything at this point because even today (thursday) i still want to poke my eyes out from the pain.

but i'm going to persevere.

tomorrow is friday and we're forecasted to get about 7 inches of snow. seven inches - are you kidding me? you do realize that it was 65 flipping degrees here on monday, right? i don't know who i need to contact about this, my congressman or my meteorologist, but no one is taking into account that i would like to wash my car this weekend and all this snow is definitely going to hamper that effort.

ugh. february in iowa. i'm so over it.

saturday is the big vd and i'm not talking syphilis, friends. nope, it's valentine's day, or if you're single more power to you it's affectionately referred to as SAD, single awareness day. the bee and i, although we are a couple and seemingly the prime audience for hallmark, russell stovers and kay jewelers, have decided to take the money that we would have spent on each other and buy baby brodie some stuff instead. because baby brodie needs some stuff. and neither of us need any more chocolate.

and that's about all i got for tonight. for having no inspiration i sure do like to talk. i'm going to go watch me some weather channel and spend time with the pootie and the baby. we're gearing up for our nightly kickboxing lesson with mommy as the punching bag...


03 February 2009

mom, please wear the nice pants

in three days and some hours, i'm going to be 29 years old. i've officially been in my "upper 20s" for a couple years now but nothing says adulthood like turning 29.


that's scary stuff, turning 29. i've been sort of in nostalgia mode for the last few days, surely brought on by a newfound addiction to facebook and the reemergence of old friends into my current life. (so long, myspace, it's been fun...) and i've got to tell you, it's making me feel old. well, maybe not necessarily old, but it's making me realize just how long it's been since i graduated high school and entered the big, scary real world. i am certainly not longing for my high school days, they were far from the best days of my life and i wouldn't go back for a second, ever. what i think i'm nostalgic for is independence and selfishness, all wrapped up in one - compounded by a) turning 29 on saturday, but mostly by b) this little guy that's due to arrive in just 101 days.

because as most adults will tell you - or at least the adults that are good at being adults will tell you - growing up and having kids means that it's the end of the "it's all about me" era and the beginning of the "it's all about them" era.

(that statement right there explains so much about the difference between my mom and my dad, i can't even begin to tell you... but anyway...)

after may 15 (or whenever this little buggar decides to arrive), i'm never going to be the same person. let's face it, i'm not the same person now that i was on september 16 of last year. all the decisions i make right now - get up or stay in bed, milk or juice, pop tarts or raisin bran, comfy pants or nice looking pants - all those decisions affect not only me but sweet little baby brodie. (maybe not the pants so much, but the kid probably doesn't want his mom looking like a big fat half-crocked slob either so he might be rooting for the nice looking pants.) and when that dawns on you - that you're making decisions that affect other people, people that depend on you - it can be a tough pill to swallow.

all you mothers out there have to admit that there is a bit of a mourning for an independent life lost no matter how much you anticipate a new life ahead. don't get me wrong - i am absolutely 100 percent thrilled to be where i am right now. i cannot wait to meet this kid, to hold his hand, to kiss his cheeks, to count his toes, to love him, to comfort him, to be a mother - i can't wait for those days. but it's like the point of no return - i'm never going to feel the same about anything. i may look like the old me and sound like the old me, but i doubt i'm going to think like the old me or act like the old me again.

is that such a bad thing?

my mom says no - i'm paraphrasing here but she says i've been floundering for a while, trying to find a true sense of who and what i am. she's right; she generally is. so maybe giving up my old life, turning the final page on what's been a tumultuous five years isn't such a bad thing. it's just that feeling - that new and different "book", the feeling of writing on an unmarked page and completely starting something from scratch - it's intimidating. i don't embrace change as well as others - i mean, i've had the same haircut since eighth grade, that has to tell you something.

but i sit here, writing this and wondering these things, and at the same time my little man is starting his nightly routine of kicking and punching, feeling his way around on the inside, and i can't help but feel happy, thrilled, maybe even a little peaceful. the world around me is crazy, people i care about are having all sorts of issues and troubles, and every now and then i get to have moments like these - it's just me and baby brodie, it's our private little conversation and i don't have to share him with the world just yet. so maybe it is still all about me for the time being. all about me and him.