so there's this quiz on parents.com: "what kind of dad will he be?" and one of the questions is, "when the two of you throw a party, you can count on him to... A) keep everyone laughing, B) make his famous five alarm chili or C) hire the best caterer in town." i had to stop taking the quiz after this question as i was thoroughly stumped. there was no option D) get completely shitfaced and have to be carried to bed.
and yes, this is how i spend my time at work.
i have a lot on my mind this morning. some of it's important, some of it's just dumb. most of it's just dumb.
for instance - here's some dumb for you. it so happens that i spend a lot of time in the bathroom at work. there are several reasons for this, the first and most important being that i have to pee about 3 times an hour. the second reason, which is also important but not as much as the former, is that the bathroom is oft used as a reprieve from stupid customers or stupid coworkers. sometimes i just go there to nap. (only once, i swear. i felt pretty dumb coming out and my butt hurt really bad.)
anyway. with all the time i spend going back and forth, to and fro, i have a lot of time to think. and this morning i was thinking about underpants.
due to my current "condition" my underpant-buying habits have slowed to a complete halt. the last pair of underpants i bought weren't actually bought at all. and no, i didn't pocket them. it was one of those free panty giveaways at victoria's secret. do you guys get those cards in the mail too? i used to get them all the time and for some reason, i've not received any lately. so i got to thinking about this. does vs discriminate against the preggo? are they teamed up with the diaper giveaway people so that you only get offers for one free thing at a time - "oh, you're getting free diapers in the mail, you don't have a need for free thongs?" maybe they're offended that their last offer for free underpants was redeemed for BAPs - big ass panties - and they've removed me from any future mailings because i obviously don't fit the criteria for their target audience.
but let's face it, at this size and shape, i'm not fitting into much these days. you have no idea how i long to wear regular jeans again. i can't wait for real jeans that button and zip.
sigh.
ready for more dumb? i've got dumb for you. this train of thought also starts in the bathroom (shock!) - i encountered a new breed of weird this morning. i watched this chick wash her hands prior to entering the stall and then re-wash her hands upon exiting. now, part of me says, kudos to her for fully embracing her ocd at work. but on the other hand (lol, no pun intended) that's a lot of soap and water and paper towels she's using there - that certainly doesn't jive with giant conglomerate bank's effort to be the biggest, greenest bank in the world. imagine if we all washed before and after we did our business - that's a lot of wasted resources. so what's the answer here - really clean hands and a lot of dead trees or only moderately clean hands and a company's reputation saved?
and don't think that i'm mocking the severity of anyone's ocd. for crying out loud, i'm the girl that will drive by her own house seven times to make sure the garage door is shut and hasn't magically reopened.
yeah. that's me. and that was just last week.
i just realized that i made myself sound like a total bathroom lurker. i'm really not. i'm just really good at wasting time - mine and yours too, obviously. :)
enough dumb. how about some important stuff?
so brodie's crib mobile arrived yesterday and it is the cutest. thing. ever. for real. it makes the pootie crazy (which makes me wonder about the struggles we'll have over baby toys and pootie toys) but i love it. i got it all attached to his crib and just sat there yesterday afternoon and watched it for an absurd amount of time. but that got me thinking about the fact that we're only about six weeks away from baby day and i have a lot to do. and even more to buy!
it's been decided that i'm not having a baby shower. several factors played into this - it's not all about me and the bee.
1) the family and friends that i would invite, for the most part anyway, live far away. on top of that, i've been hitting these people up for money and gifts on a regular basis for the last 10 years. "look at me, i'm graduating high school! send me money, i'm getting married! send me more money, i'm getting married again! hey, check me out, i've harlan-ed my way through college but i'm finally graduating - send me some shit!" it just seems rude to ask for baby gifts after all the invitations that have gone out in the mail over the years.
2) there is some animosity between families of the bee and i. basically, my family can't stand him and his thinks that i'm a total raging lunatic. and why on earth would they buy gifts for the child of a total raging lunatic?
3) and this one wasn't as much of a factor as the first two, but many people i know are struggling financially right now. it seems really selfish of me to assume they have the means (never mind the desire) to purchase things for me and baby brodie.
so yeah. we registered and did all that, but it seems it was for naught. no shower, no hassle. and i really do like it that way. but it does leave more of a burden on me and the bee to find a way to provide all these things that we apparently need when we have trouble paying the rent most months. so we're relying on a lot of hand-me-downs and craigslist and ebay. and things are coming together, slowly but surely. there are a few big things we have to get - a carseat is one of them. there are a few big things that i'd like to get - a dresser, a swing, a pack-n-play - but they're not necessities. and then there's things that are obviously not necessary for survival but just sound like fun - like pee-pee teepees. don't those just sound like fun?
oh yeah.
so me and the bee. on again, off again. up and down. two steps forward, thirteen steps sideways and four steps back all while doing the hand jive. we agree, we disagree, we agree to disagree. who knows? i've decided to take a lackadaisical approach to the whole thing - it is what it is, maybe it'll get better, maybe it'll get worse. maybe we'll get it together, maybe we'll learn to be apart. all i know is that for right now, i can't deal with the drama anymore. so i'm not going to. and that's all i have to say about that. for right now, anyway.
superjanel out.
31 March 2009
19 March 2009
impossible is my middle name
you guys know how i am. when things get weird or uncomfortable for me, i get kind of quiet. this time is no different. i could tell you it's been calm around here. i could tell you that not much has happened or changed in the last few days. but that would be a lie. truth be told, it's hard to talk when you've got a mouthful of humble pie, as i do right now.
the bee came back last week, bearing roses and mexican food for dinner. not one to turn down a free meal, i let him in and let him talk. he's been in and out since then, he's stayed over a couple times, he put together brodie's crib and changing table, he went to baby school with me over the weekend. he says he spoke out of anger and frustration, he wants to be here for me and for brodie, he loves me. in spite of the incident a few weeks ago, we've been able to talk about a few things and we're each making steps to think before we speak and to try to look at things from the other's perspective.
it's what i wanted; i ought to be thrilled.
except i'm not. and i'm not sure why. i keep waiting to hear the thud of the other shoe when it finally hits the floor. i think i've been conditioned to be suspicious of the good times. and so to hurry along what i believe is the inevitable i'm undermining all of the positive things that appear to be happening around me. i'm overthinking everything - i'm too busy reading between the lines to see the writing on the wall, so to speak. there's always a catch, right? am i so wrong to think that there's an underlying cause to this behavior or should i take it at face value and appreciate what i've got, what i'm getting, while i'm getting it?
i'm just confused. i'm confused about the expectations we have for one another; i'm not sure if this is all temporary until the baby gets here or until something better comes along. i thought i knew what i wanted and then when i get it i complain that it just doesn't feel right, it doesn't feel the same, it doesn't feel good - or maybe it doesn't feel good enough. the thing is, i'm the one that's responsible for building up these unattainable goals, these unrealistic expectations. where do i get them? everywhere i look, every couple i know has some sort of issue - big and small, no relationship is immune to problems. so where do i get the idea that things will be different for me? once again i find myself wondering when good enough is just that.
the bee came back last week, bearing roses and mexican food for dinner. not one to turn down a free meal, i let him in and let him talk. he's been in and out since then, he's stayed over a couple times, he put together brodie's crib and changing table, he went to baby school with me over the weekend. he says he spoke out of anger and frustration, he wants to be here for me and for brodie, he loves me. in spite of the incident a few weeks ago, we've been able to talk about a few things and we're each making steps to think before we speak and to try to look at things from the other's perspective.
it's what i wanted; i ought to be thrilled.
except i'm not. and i'm not sure why. i keep waiting to hear the thud of the other shoe when it finally hits the floor. i think i've been conditioned to be suspicious of the good times. and so to hurry along what i believe is the inevitable i'm undermining all of the positive things that appear to be happening around me. i'm overthinking everything - i'm too busy reading between the lines to see the writing on the wall, so to speak. there's always a catch, right? am i so wrong to think that there's an underlying cause to this behavior or should i take it at face value and appreciate what i've got, what i'm getting, while i'm getting it?
i'm just confused. i'm confused about the expectations we have for one another; i'm not sure if this is all temporary until the baby gets here or until something better comes along. i thought i knew what i wanted and then when i get it i complain that it just doesn't feel right, it doesn't feel the same, it doesn't feel good - or maybe it doesn't feel good enough. the thing is, i'm the one that's responsible for building up these unattainable goals, these unrealistic expectations. where do i get them? everywhere i look, every couple i know has some sort of issue - big and small, no relationship is immune to problems. so where do i get the idea that things will be different for me? once again i find myself wondering when good enough is just that.
09 March 2009
welcoming the wrecking ball
i think the hardest choices in life are the ones in which we have no say. obviously, there's the banal side to this statement for things such as weather or death - things we couldn't control if we tried. i'm more referring to the ones that other people or circumstances decide for us: those are harder for me to grasp because my mind plays the "what if?" game until i'm physically ill. not that knowing what could have happened if makes me feel any better - i generally feel worse. the fact remains that there's nothing i can do to change the outcome.
i know you all know what i'm talking about. but i'm referring to the bee and i. just a few days ago, our attitude was that we were going to try to work things out, over a period of time and in baby steps. it wasn't a spoken decision, it was an underlying theme to all our conversations. for the good of the baby, for the connection we had, for what we felt for each other - there was enough foundation there to perhaps rebuild the shanty that once stood with a nice, pre-fab modern structure. this morning the construction crew went on strike and all plans have been scrapped.
it's over.
this morning he says that he told me those things because he wanted to be nice. he doesn't love me anymore - he's reached his breaking point and is moving on. he will continue to care for me, in terms of my general health, but he'll wait to hear about the baby when he gets the letter in the mail from the department of human services. he has no connection to anything or anyone here any longer.
if i weren't already feeling so bad this morning, i probably would have cried to the point of vomiting. the thing is, somewhere deep down, i knew this was coming. i knew that any reconciliation would be like putting a band-aid on open heart surgery - a temporary solution to an enormous issue.
i had hoped, in typical needy-female fashion, that in spite of all our difference and difficulties that he and i would be able to pull it together for the sake of the child and that eventually all our problems and faults would fall to the wayside and a new kind of relationship would develop. don't misunderstand - that's happening here. it's just happening as we sit 70 miles apart and the problems don't matter much as the relationship that is developing is the one between two people who apparently can't be with or deal with one another.
it's not exactly what i had in mind. but how naive am i to believe that a baby could be the glue to hold us together? i'm going on 30 years old - it's a pretty pathetic storyline for someone who claims to be as smart as i like to think i am.
the thing that chaps my ass about all this? he's reached his breaking point, he's ready to move on. the natual question that comes to mind for me - where in the hell is my breaking point? why am i not ready to move on? why do i let him hurt me so much, why do i need him in my life, why do i cry over him when i know he's certainly not crying over me? where has my sense of self-worth gone? beyond being the partial creator of this child, what makes him so freaking special that he's worth my time?
i'm angry. i'm so, so angry. i'm angry with him for so many reasons but mostly i'm angry with myself for letting it get this far. i'm angry that i feel this hurt; i'm angry that i've let myself come to depend on someone whose only dependable trait is that they're chronically undependable.
some humor in all that diatribe though? if the dumbass doesn't submit a change of address to the post office he'll never know that he has a son; all his mail will come here and gather dust in the grocery sack in the closet. it's not my job to deliver his mail. although i would consider swapping it for a couple of sham-wows, the slimy bastard.
anyway.
so here i am, monday morning (again!?) and i'm supposed to be getting ready to go to the doctor for my 30-week check-up and then going to work. i'm not sure how much work i'll accomplish today: it seems that in the last week while hacking and coughing and carrying on like a lifelong smoker with terminal emphysema i've managed to literally twist my rib cage a little off center which is causing a tremendous amount of pain. i can't stand, i can't sit, i can't lie down - when i cough i want to fall over. and sneezing? i will attempt to blow out an ear drum or an eyeball before i'll let a sneeze escape these lips, otherwise i'll be wishing i were wearing rubber pants and sitting in the bathtub. it's just not pretty. ahh, the glorious side of being pregnant - the side no one tells you about. like wetting yourself on a regular basis or that your skin will thin out to the point where you can see each and every vein in your chest, no one tells you that all your joints become loose and lethargic to the point where it's actually possible to give yourself an injury like twisting your rib cage. see, if people knew this kind of stuff going in there would probably be far fewer babies. pregnancy is not for the weak.
on a happier note, and there is no sarcasm here - i'm truly happy about this - mom and i ordered brodie's crib and changing table this week and on saturday night i ordered his crib bedding and curtains and such. i'm excited to get things put together and in order, to help with planning a shower and washing little socks. his room will be adorable, although if what i hear is true, he won't actually spend a lot of time in his room for quite a while. that's okay; it'll look nice.
so yeah. i'm going to go get in the shower and carry on with life as best i can. it's not what i'd hoped for and not what i'd planned but how often do we really get what we want anyway? somebody bigger and smarter than me obviously knows what is going on here, i'm just waiting to hear the details.
superjanel OUT.
i know you all know what i'm talking about. but i'm referring to the bee and i. just a few days ago, our attitude was that we were going to try to work things out, over a period of time and in baby steps. it wasn't a spoken decision, it was an underlying theme to all our conversations. for the good of the baby, for the connection we had, for what we felt for each other - there was enough foundation there to perhaps rebuild the shanty that once stood with a nice, pre-fab modern structure. this morning the construction crew went on strike and all plans have been scrapped.
it's over.
this morning he says that he told me those things because he wanted to be nice. he doesn't love me anymore - he's reached his breaking point and is moving on. he will continue to care for me, in terms of my general health, but he'll wait to hear about the baby when he gets the letter in the mail from the department of human services. he has no connection to anything or anyone here any longer.
if i weren't already feeling so bad this morning, i probably would have cried to the point of vomiting. the thing is, somewhere deep down, i knew this was coming. i knew that any reconciliation would be like putting a band-aid on open heart surgery - a temporary solution to an enormous issue.
i had hoped, in typical needy-female fashion, that in spite of all our difference and difficulties that he and i would be able to pull it together for the sake of the child and that eventually all our problems and faults would fall to the wayside and a new kind of relationship would develop. don't misunderstand - that's happening here. it's just happening as we sit 70 miles apart and the problems don't matter much as the relationship that is developing is the one between two people who apparently can't be with or deal with one another.
it's not exactly what i had in mind. but how naive am i to believe that a baby could be the glue to hold us together? i'm going on 30 years old - it's a pretty pathetic storyline for someone who claims to be as smart as i like to think i am.
the thing that chaps my ass about all this? he's reached his breaking point, he's ready to move on. the natual question that comes to mind for me - where in the hell is my breaking point? why am i not ready to move on? why do i let him hurt me so much, why do i need him in my life, why do i cry over him when i know he's certainly not crying over me? where has my sense of self-worth gone? beyond being the partial creator of this child, what makes him so freaking special that he's worth my time?
i'm angry. i'm so, so angry. i'm angry with him for so many reasons but mostly i'm angry with myself for letting it get this far. i'm angry that i feel this hurt; i'm angry that i've let myself come to depend on someone whose only dependable trait is that they're chronically undependable.
some humor in all that diatribe though? if the dumbass doesn't submit a change of address to the post office he'll never know that he has a son; all his mail will come here and gather dust in the grocery sack in the closet. it's not my job to deliver his mail. although i would consider swapping it for a couple of sham-wows, the slimy bastard.
anyway.
so here i am, monday morning (again!?) and i'm supposed to be getting ready to go to the doctor for my 30-week check-up and then going to work. i'm not sure how much work i'll accomplish today: it seems that in the last week while hacking and coughing and carrying on like a lifelong smoker with terminal emphysema i've managed to literally twist my rib cage a little off center which is causing a tremendous amount of pain. i can't stand, i can't sit, i can't lie down - when i cough i want to fall over. and sneezing? i will attempt to blow out an ear drum or an eyeball before i'll let a sneeze escape these lips, otherwise i'll be wishing i were wearing rubber pants and sitting in the bathtub. it's just not pretty. ahh, the glorious side of being pregnant - the side no one tells you about. like wetting yourself on a regular basis or that your skin will thin out to the point where you can see each and every vein in your chest, no one tells you that all your joints become loose and lethargic to the point where it's actually possible to give yourself an injury like twisting your rib cage. see, if people knew this kind of stuff going in there would probably be far fewer babies. pregnancy is not for the weak.
on a happier note, and there is no sarcasm here - i'm truly happy about this - mom and i ordered brodie's crib and changing table this week and on saturday night i ordered his crib bedding and curtains and such. i'm excited to get things put together and in order, to help with planning a shower and washing little socks. his room will be adorable, although if what i hear is true, he won't actually spend a lot of time in his room for quite a while. that's okay; it'll look nice.
so yeah. i'm going to go get in the shower and carry on with life as best i can. it's not what i'd hoped for and not what i'd planned but how often do we really get what we want anyway? somebody bigger and smarter than me obviously knows what is going on here, i'm just waiting to hear the details.
superjanel OUT.
04 March 2009
are we grading on a curve?
it smells like sausage at work today. there's no innuendo there, it just smells like a meat market. it's a little distracting - i'm trying to eat my animal crackers and drink my gatorade and my senses are overwhelmed with the scent of processed animal products. it's not doing a lot for my appetite.
how are you today? i'm okay. i slept really hard last night and that wasn't even due to the aid of cold, cough or allergy medicine. i think i was just tired. and with good reason. i'm back to my full-time schedule at work and while my job is far from physically taxing it wreaks havoc on me mentally. it gets hard listening to people's problems all day; things are just hard for everyone right now, across the board. i feel like i'm doing therapy again - the toll it takes on me is pretty similar. when i get home at night i just want to zone out, eat dinner, play with the dog and go to bed. and i have to say, that's the ideal life for a single someone in my condition. there are no discussions over what to have for dinner (cereal), there are no discussions about what to watch on tv (american idol) and there are no arguments over my lack of ambition to get out of the house and do something. because right now i pretty much don't want to do anything. there are advantages to being alone right now, i have to admit it.
but that doesn't mean that the bee and i aren't speaking. i left him alone for the better part of a week: no calls, no messages, no nothing. i found that when i was having the urge to talk to him i could just call someone else or distract myself with something else and i was actually better off for doing so: i wasn't worked up, i wasn't in tears, i wasn't stressed out. but the phone calls commenced about a week ago - about a week after our "episode." and the conversations that have taken place since leave me just as confused as i've ever been.
to paraphrase (heavily), we're not 100 percent happy together but we're both pretty miserable when we're apart. and it's not just me that agrees to this statement, it's a mutual feeling. but as far as what to do to fix it or if it can even be fixed, neither of us know what to do or how to feel. he feels that he makes and has made serious concessions toward my happiness and i feel i've done the same thing for him - we both feel slighted and diminished and under appreciated. but i wonder, and not really in advocation of being together but sort of as the devil's advocate - does anyone ever make anyone else 100 percent happy? will there ever be anyone who pleases me 100 percent of the time? is it like a school grading scale - "A" through "F"? anything above a 70 percent is passing? are we grading on a curve? (i am so screwed if this the case.) or is it just pass/fail, like 11th grade spanish?
(which by the way, i have never forgiven senora bellon for failing me for one little percentage point, when i *KNOW* she gave extra credit to other non-deserving students, not that this matters now...)
i don't know. i just don't know. i don't know what's best for me or for him, but i do know it's best for brodie if things stay calm. separate, together - we've got to relax. the bee says he wants to be at the birth, he wants to be in brodie's life (and not just on an every other weekend type of basis). but where does that leave us? because i'm not okay with the idea of platonically living under one roof and i don't believe that he is either. brodie is our number one concern right now; maybe if i just stop worrying about the bee and keep my priorities in line things will just work out? maybe if i just let it all go the right answer will appear?
sha, right. and maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt; you people know i can't just let things go, it's not my nature.
but that's where i am right now. emotionally, not literally. literally, i'm at work, taking up space and causing drama just by breathing. i love giant heartless conglomerate bank.
*sigh*
how are you today? i'm okay. i slept really hard last night and that wasn't even due to the aid of cold, cough or allergy medicine. i think i was just tired. and with good reason. i'm back to my full-time schedule at work and while my job is far from physically taxing it wreaks havoc on me mentally. it gets hard listening to people's problems all day; things are just hard for everyone right now, across the board. i feel like i'm doing therapy again - the toll it takes on me is pretty similar. when i get home at night i just want to zone out, eat dinner, play with the dog and go to bed. and i have to say, that's the ideal life for a single someone in my condition. there are no discussions over what to have for dinner (cereal), there are no discussions about what to watch on tv (american idol) and there are no arguments over my lack of ambition to get out of the house and do something. because right now i pretty much don't want to do anything. there are advantages to being alone right now, i have to admit it.
but that doesn't mean that the bee and i aren't speaking. i left him alone for the better part of a week: no calls, no messages, no nothing. i found that when i was having the urge to talk to him i could just call someone else or distract myself with something else and i was actually better off for doing so: i wasn't worked up, i wasn't in tears, i wasn't stressed out. but the phone calls commenced about a week ago - about a week after our "episode." and the conversations that have taken place since leave me just as confused as i've ever been.
to paraphrase (heavily), we're not 100 percent happy together but we're both pretty miserable when we're apart. and it's not just me that agrees to this statement, it's a mutual feeling. but as far as what to do to fix it or if it can even be fixed, neither of us know what to do or how to feel. he feels that he makes and has made serious concessions toward my happiness and i feel i've done the same thing for him - we both feel slighted and diminished and under appreciated. but i wonder, and not really in advocation of being together but sort of as the devil's advocate - does anyone ever make anyone else 100 percent happy? will there ever be anyone who pleases me 100 percent of the time? is it like a school grading scale - "A" through "F"? anything above a 70 percent is passing? are we grading on a curve? (i am so screwed if this the case.) or is it just pass/fail, like 11th grade spanish?
(which by the way, i have never forgiven senora bellon for failing me for one little percentage point, when i *KNOW* she gave extra credit to other non-deserving students, not that this matters now...)
i don't know. i just don't know. i don't know what's best for me or for him, but i do know it's best for brodie if things stay calm. separate, together - we've got to relax. the bee says he wants to be at the birth, he wants to be in brodie's life (and not just on an every other weekend type of basis). but where does that leave us? because i'm not okay with the idea of platonically living under one roof and i don't believe that he is either. brodie is our number one concern right now; maybe if i just stop worrying about the bee and keep my priorities in line things will just work out? maybe if i just let it all go the right answer will appear?
sha, right. and maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt; you people know i can't just let things go, it's not my nature.
but that's where i am right now. emotionally, not literally. literally, i'm at work, taking up space and causing drama just by breathing. i love giant heartless conglomerate bank.
*sigh*
02 March 2009
k-mart sucks, ray.
monday morning. again. wasn't it just monday morning a couple days ago? didn't we just have this day? this monday morning i'm back to work as a full-time employee at giant heartless conglomerate bank. i would be flat out lying to tell you that i'm looking forward to this change but i'm not dreading it as much as i have in the past. truth be told, i hate getting ready for work, i hate the idea of going to work. but once i'm there i pretty much zone out and do my thing and it's not so bad. well, it doesn't make me want to punch (most) people or run over things with my car, so i guess that's not so bad, right?
i went tv shopping with my momma yesterday; her tv went kaput in a major fashion. and because nothing is simple and because wal-mart sucks, she ended up spending more than she wanted to on her second choice of televisions. i really think wal-mart is all about the bait-and-switch scheme, for real - they have a wall full of nice flatscreen televisions at decent prices and when you ask for assistance, they're all, "nope we don't have that one, haven't had it forever, you're never gonna find it." well, didn't we just find it here, on your wall? but that doesn't matter because they're more than happy to show you this wonderful, slightly comparable television at a ridiculously higher price. but it does look nice in her living room.
ho-hum...
you know, i've got all these things on my mind, things i want to talk about but i just don't feel comfortable putting out here. which is weird, because this is usually the only place where i can really let it all out. i don't know if i'm just not ready or if i just don't want to hear the reaction to my thoughts; i'm just confused on a lot of things. i guess i'm feeling a little pent up but i'm the one censoring my speech so i don't even have anyone to yell at about that. i don't know. i don't know what i want to say and it's making me crazy.
i'm going to go eat breakfast and take the dog outside, then get ready for work. maybe i'll be more talkative later.
i went tv shopping with my momma yesterday; her tv went kaput in a major fashion. and because nothing is simple and because wal-mart sucks, she ended up spending more than she wanted to on her second choice of televisions. i really think wal-mart is all about the bait-and-switch scheme, for real - they have a wall full of nice flatscreen televisions at decent prices and when you ask for assistance, they're all, "nope we don't have that one, haven't had it forever, you're never gonna find it." well, didn't we just find it here, on your wall? but that doesn't matter because they're more than happy to show you this wonderful, slightly comparable television at a ridiculously higher price. but it does look nice in her living room.
ho-hum...
you know, i've got all these things on my mind, things i want to talk about but i just don't feel comfortable putting out here. which is weird, because this is usually the only place where i can really let it all out. i don't know if i'm just not ready or if i just don't want to hear the reaction to my thoughts; i'm just confused on a lot of things. i guess i'm feeling a little pent up but i'm the one censoring my speech so i don't even have anyone to yell at about that. i don't know. i don't know what i want to say and it's making me crazy.
i'm going to go eat breakfast and take the dog outside, then get ready for work. maybe i'll be more talkative later.
01 March 2009
and now you know the rest of the story...
i had the most amazing experience with my son this morning. we were playing together, as much as you can play with your child when he's in utero. he would kick and i would cover that spot on my belly and he would kick me again. this went on for about 15 minutes - kicking and covering and kicking and poking - it was incredible. it dawned on me that this isn't just a baby, this is a person. this is a person with his own little personality, likes and dislikes, he'll have his own agenda and his own goals. and to think about that is just awesome and terrifying all at once, especially when you consider his parents...
i couldn't sleep last night. i wasn't upset about anything, i just couldn't breathe and as such i couldn't sleep. when i'm sick i get all dramatic and melancholy, i act like my father. lucky for everyone i know there was no one here to witness this except for the dog and he's not really the most sympathetic creature i've ever encountered. but not sleeping provided for plenty of time for watching mindless television (infomercials and the weather channel) and reading idiotic books.
i assume you've heard about the snuggie, the blanket with sleeves? a friend of mine likened this to wearing your robe backwards which is pretty much the truth. i don't have enough fingers to count how many times i've seen this commercial in the last 72 hours but every time i see it, i have the same thought: the heaven's gate cult absolutely chartered the popularity of the snuggie and none of those poor bastards are around to reap the benefits. do you remember the heaven's gate cult? they wore red robes (snuggies! i swear they were snuggies!) and nike tennis shoes and they committed a mass suicide that aligned with the reappearance of the hale-bopp comet. (sad, just sad.) but if those people had had the foresight to market their fashions instead of downing vodka shots laced with phenobarbital they could have been the latest and greatest hollywood religion. move over kabbalah, move over scientology - tom cruise and his l. ron hubbard loving ass could have been on oprah singing the praises of marshall applewhite and the comfort of the snuggie!
but alas, that was not in the cards, which is odd for a group of people claiming to be so instrinsically in tune with the universe. (hmm...) and that is why i'll just wear my bathrobe backwards instead of buying a snuggie, even though if i call in the next 20 minutes i could get two (!) for the price of one. but it doesn't stop me from admiring the package at walgreen's while i'm in the "as seen on tv" aisle; i'd look pretty good in that shade of red.
moving on...
i'm boycotting the use of my dishwasher. because it's just me here now and i don't eat nearly as much when i'm alone (as opposed to being all relationship-ed up) i've resolved to handwash all my dishes to see if it makes much of a difference on my electric and water bill. oh, the things i do for fun when i'm bored. but of all the chores i have to do as an adult, dishes is far from the worst. my least favorite chore of all time is dusting. i will vacuum until the cows come home, i'll do laundry until i can't see, but i hate dusting. because no matter when i do it, it's the wrong time. if you dust after you vacuum then you're just wiping crap on the floor. and if you dust before you vacuum you'll just blow more dirt around with the vacuum and then everything looks like you need to dust again. so i just don't do it. it looks like the color is way off on my tv but it's really just a nice thick layer of dust and i'm okay with that.
did you hear about paul harvey? that made me sad, i loved paul harvey. even though towards the end he was looking less human and more like a wax museum version of himself, he was still fun to listen to. my grandma used to listen to him on the radio every day - i can remember being eight years old, in the blow up pool in her backyard, kitchen window open so she could keep an ear and an eye on me and hearing the noon news with paul harvey come drifting through on good ol' KMGO. that was one of the best summers of my life - i spent like six weeks at my grandma's house that summer, going to work, going to lunch, eating grilled cheese, shopping and just hanging out. she was a lot of fun. i miss her. i miss her a lot.
i'm going to my mom's today, i think we're going to look for a tv since hers is on its way out. i'm looking forward to getting out of the house and getting some sunshine, even if it is 10 below outside.
i couldn't sleep last night. i wasn't upset about anything, i just couldn't breathe and as such i couldn't sleep. when i'm sick i get all dramatic and melancholy, i act like my father. lucky for everyone i know there was no one here to witness this except for the dog and he's not really the most sympathetic creature i've ever encountered. but not sleeping provided for plenty of time for watching mindless television (infomercials and the weather channel) and reading idiotic books.
i assume you've heard about the snuggie, the blanket with sleeves? a friend of mine likened this to wearing your robe backwards which is pretty much the truth. i don't have enough fingers to count how many times i've seen this commercial in the last 72 hours but every time i see it, i have the same thought: the heaven's gate cult absolutely chartered the popularity of the snuggie and none of those poor bastards are around to reap the benefits. do you remember the heaven's gate cult? they wore red robes (snuggies! i swear they were snuggies!) and nike tennis shoes and they committed a mass suicide that aligned with the reappearance of the hale-bopp comet. (sad, just sad.) but if those people had had the foresight to market their fashions instead of downing vodka shots laced with phenobarbital they could have been the latest and greatest hollywood religion. move over kabbalah, move over scientology - tom cruise and his l. ron hubbard loving ass could have been on oprah singing the praises of marshall applewhite and the comfort of the snuggie!
but alas, that was not in the cards, which is odd for a group of people claiming to be so instrinsically in tune with the universe. (hmm...) and that is why i'll just wear my bathrobe backwards instead of buying a snuggie, even though if i call in the next 20 minutes i could get two (!) for the price of one. but it doesn't stop me from admiring the package at walgreen's while i'm in the "as seen on tv" aisle; i'd look pretty good in that shade of red.
moving on...
i'm boycotting the use of my dishwasher. because it's just me here now and i don't eat nearly as much when i'm alone (as opposed to being all relationship-ed up) i've resolved to handwash all my dishes to see if it makes much of a difference on my electric and water bill. oh, the things i do for fun when i'm bored. but of all the chores i have to do as an adult, dishes is far from the worst. my least favorite chore of all time is dusting. i will vacuum until the cows come home, i'll do laundry until i can't see, but i hate dusting. because no matter when i do it, it's the wrong time. if you dust after you vacuum then you're just wiping crap on the floor. and if you dust before you vacuum you'll just blow more dirt around with the vacuum and then everything looks like you need to dust again. so i just don't do it. it looks like the color is way off on my tv but it's really just a nice thick layer of dust and i'm okay with that.
did you hear about paul harvey? that made me sad, i loved paul harvey. even though towards the end he was looking less human and more like a wax museum version of himself, he was still fun to listen to. my grandma used to listen to him on the radio every day - i can remember being eight years old, in the blow up pool in her backyard, kitchen window open so she could keep an ear and an eye on me and hearing the noon news with paul harvey come drifting through on good ol' KMGO. that was one of the best summers of my life - i spent like six weeks at my grandma's house that summer, going to work, going to lunch, eating grilled cheese, shopping and just hanging out. she was a lot of fun. i miss her. i miss her a lot.
i'm going to my mom's today, i think we're going to look for a tv since hers is on its way out. i'm looking forward to getting out of the house and getting some sunshine, even if it is 10 below outside.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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 singlemore 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...
:-)
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
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.
yikes.
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.
yikes.
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.
25 January 2009
i'm beginning to understand
have i ever mentioned that i've been going to church lately? my momma decided that church would be good for her (and for me) a while back and for the last two, almost three months, we've been attending a neat little baptist church in west des moines on saturday evenings. it's a casual, contemporary service - they serve coffee and the pastor wears jeans. it's very laid back and close knit and i've come to find that i really enjoy it, which almost shocks me.
we went to church when i was a kid and it was sunday morning, skirt and tights, get dressed up and be quiet time. and i understood why we went but at the same time i never really understood, you know? i mean, we were involved in the churches that we went to and i got to know some of the other kids but i never took it as seriously as they did. and so for all that time, i kind of held church at arm's length, it was something that those kids did and enjoyed but i never really understood the meaning of gluing macaroni to a piece of paper in honor of jesus. what did crafts and the bible have to do with one another?
as i got older, church was something we did on holidays and to pacify my grandma, it seemed. we would go on easter and sometimes on christmas but my mom never felt comfortable in some of those churches and so more and more of our sunday mornings were spent at home, being lazy and eating breakfast. and with us kids it was never really discussed, it was sort of a non-issue. we were christians and we knew that, we believe in God, but it wasn't something we needed to profess on a weekly basis.
so when she mentioned that she wanted to start going to church again a few months ago, i said "sure, i'll go with you" and expected that once again i'd find myself wondering exactly what these people had that i didn't, that allowed them to believe in something so mysterious and unknown, something that had such a presence for so many but that i couldn't find a way to connect with personally.
and that first night we went, that very first saturday night, it was a quiet service. close to the holidays, there weren't many people in attendance. but the worship pastor sat down at this beautiful grand piano and sang "i can only imagine" - the song that was played at my grandma's funeral - and suddenly i got a flash of the bigger picture. it was like we were meant to be there. and i cried. and my mom cried. and since that night, i feel connected to my family, my grandma and my mom, in more ways than i thought possible.
i feel like i finally get it. and it's wonderful because there's so much to learn and i get so excited for saturday nights (or sunday mornings) - it's truly a great feeling. with all the uncertainty in my life and in the lives of the people that i care about, it's an awesome feeling to know that i have God that i can turn to and that He's always there for me.
last night, just like all the other saturday nights before, i was amazed at the relevancy of the words that came from the pastor's mouth. i still can't get over the fact that no matter what's going on in my life at the time, good or bad, the sermon always feels like it's directed at me, for me, it's just what i need to hear when i need to hear it. and i leave there feeling so good, so happy, so connected and so invigorated - i love it. i didn't realize that for so long something so big and so wonderful was missing from my life; i really feel like i belong.
and that's a great feeling.
we went to church when i was a kid and it was sunday morning, skirt and tights, get dressed up and be quiet time. and i understood why we went but at the same time i never really understood, you know? i mean, we were involved in the churches that we went to and i got to know some of the other kids but i never took it as seriously as they did. and so for all that time, i kind of held church at arm's length, it was something that those kids did and enjoyed but i never really understood the meaning of gluing macaroni to a piece of paper in honor of jesus. what did crafts and the bible have to do with one another?
as i got older, church was something we did on holidays and to pacify my grandma, it seemed. we would go on easter and sometimes on christmas but my mom never felt comfortable in some of those churches and so more and more of our sunday mornings were spent at home, being lazy and eating breakfast. and with us kids it was never really discussed, it was sort of a non-issue. we were christians and we knew that, we believe in God, but it wasn't something we needed to profess on a weekly basis.
so when she mentioned that she wanted to start going to church again a few months ago, i said "sure, i'll go with you" and expected that once again i'd find myself wondering exactly what these people had that i didn't, that allowed them to believe in something so mysterious and unknown, something that had such a presence for so many but that i couldn't find a way to connect with personally.
and that first night we went, that very first saturday night, it was a quiet service. close to the holidays, there weren't many people in attendance. but the worship pastor sat down at this beautiful grand piano and sang "i can only imagine" - the song that was played at my grandma's funeral - and suddenly i got a flash of the bigger picture. it was like we were meant to be there. and i cried. and my mom cried. and since that night, i feel connected to my family, my grandma and my mom, in more ways than i thought possible.
i feel like i finally get it. and it's wonderful because there's so much to learn and i get so excited for saturday nights (or sunday mornings) - it's truly a great feeling. with all the uncertainty in my life and in the lives of the people that i care about, it's an awesome feeling to know that i have God that i can turn to and that He's always there for me.
last night, just like all the other saturday nights before, i was amazed at the relevancy of the words that came from the pastor's mouth. i still can't get over the fact that no matter what's going on in my life at the time, good or bad, the sermon always feels like it's directed at me, for me, it's just what i need to hear when i need to hear it. and i leave there feeling so good, so happy, so connected and so invigorated - i love it. i didn't realize that for so long something so big and so wonderful was missing from my life; i really feel like i belong.
and that's a great feeling.
23 January 2009
bustin' at the seams
no, literally.
i had to go buy a new bra today. the old ones just weren't cutting it anymore. i tried to get one last weekend at the maternity store, and silly me, i thought my regular (non-preggo) size at a maternity store would somehow be my size now.
as it turns out, those two numbers are not one and the same. in fact, i've gone from "just right" to "freaking obscene" and it's a little unnerving.
the one i bought today - i picked it out under the guise that i'd be returning it this weekend. there was no way this thing was going to fit, it's just not possible. when i put it in the cart, i was sure the checkout lady was going to mistake it for one of those green, eco-friendly shopping bags and try to put my gallon of milk in it.
apparently the preggo-boob fairy has other plans for me because that thing fit like a glove. a glove for giant preggo boobs. :(
and the one i bought last weekend? now i have a really nice maternity bra from the maternity store that i'll never wear - not because i don't want to wear it, it looks really comfy. i'll just never be able to wear it and not look like i have wrap-around back fat.
so even though i'm in an elastic waistband pant phase (which i may never leave, these are so comfortable!) i'll never ever be okay with wrap-around back fat.
and that's all i have to say about that.
i had to go buy a new bra today. the old ones just weren't cutting it anymore. i tried to get one last weekend at the maternity store, and silly me, i thought my regular (non-preggo) size at a maternity store would somehow be my size now.
as it turns out, those two numbers are not one and the same. in fact, i've gone from "just right" to "freaking obscene" and it's a little unnerving.
the one i bought today - i picked it out under the guise that i'd be returning it this weekend. there was no way this thing was going to fit, it's just not possible. when i put it in the cart, i was sure the checkout lady was going to mistake it for one of those green, eco-friendly shopping bags and try to put my gallon of milk in it.
apparently the preggo-boob fairy has other plans for me because that thing fit like a glove. a glove for giant preggo boobs. :(
and the one i bought last weekend? now i have a really nice maternity bra from the maternity store that i'll never wear - not because i don't want to wear it, it looks really comfy. i'll just never be able to wear it and not look like i have wrap-around back fat.
so even though i'm in an elastic waistband pant phase (which i may never leave, these are so comfortable!) i'll never ever be okay with wrap-around back fat.
and that's all i have to say about that.
21 January 2009
parsley, unions, robert frost and tummy aches
this morning i drank milk out of a white plastic cup. i really dislike drinking milk out of a plastic cup but a white plastic cup is the worst - it makes my milk look yellow and sour and just generally unattractive. plus, this particular cup was really bad because once i drank enough milk to see the bottom of the cup, i realized that there's a big green thing stuck down there. yuck. i'm pretty sure it was parsley and not a booger, but it did kinda gross me out. and no, i don't make a habit out of drinking from dirty cups - my theory on this is that this is the result of the bee refusing to rinse dishes before he puts them in the dishwasher. so the spaghetti i had last week (with parsley in the sauce) probably found its way into my glass, which is why my milk wasn't really yellow-tinged this morning, but more of a greenish, mossy color.
yummy.
so the bee and i have done some discussing lately. most of our conversations have related to money and bills and preparing for the arrival of baby wal-mart. and we talk about my job and how i'm technically sort of overqualified for it and how i don't make enough money for the crap that i do and how i could be making more money if i'd just apply myself (those are all his words, not mine.) i talk mostly about how much i hate my job - and oh my goodness, i really do hate my job. the only challenge to my job anymore is either trying to find a good enough reason not to go or trying to find little things that i can do during the day to keep myself awake and presentable should the boss walk behind my cubicle.
basically that means that i'll stay home over something as exciting as tackling that dog puke stain on the steps with our new carpet cleaner. or if it happens that i've already used that excuse, then i'll see just how many people i can hang up on over the course of a day. i'll sign up for all the automatic dialer time that i can get during my shift and then not speak to a person, i'll just sit there and breathe into the phone.
anyway. i'm off track. so yeah, i hate what i do. the thing is - as it turns out, so does the bee. he's miserable in where he's working right now and somedays that boils down to a specific location and other days it means that he hates the company he works for.
have i ever told you that the bee is a union employee? (bring on the jokes about the breaks and the way long lunch hours - most of them are true.) yup, he's a union plumber and steamfitter. and he works for a good little company based in des moines. his benefits are awesome, his pay is awesome, and up until recently his job was pretty much the cat's pajamas. (i wanted to say the bee's knees but it's kind of overkill...)
but lately, he's been getting restless. the bee is a fifth-year apprentice in a union program and this is the year he "turns out" (to speak a little union-ese) and becomes a full-fledged journeyman in his trade (woohoo for raises!). and at that point he can pretty much work where ever he wants. for real. he could work in iowa and stay with the same local or he could move east or west, north or south and not have to worry about his rate of pay, benefits, what have you. its a pretty interesting thing they've got going, these union guys.
but the point of all this is that in a few months time, about the same time as the arrival of baby wal-mart, a whole new world of options is going to open up for him. almost literally. the timing isn't the greatest given that we'll have a brand new baby to contend with, but i can see in his face when we talk about this that he's really considering some changes.
i know what you're thinking. from the way i've carried on about the bee over the last year and a half, you think that he's never going to leave this place or his job or his mom. but to be perfectly honest, when i met the bee he informed me that we probably shouldn't get too involved as the time was coming when he was going to move to alaska and weld pipes in the great frozen tundra of the 49th state. and he was serious as hell, having completed most of the necessary paperwork and preparing to leave. (plans obviously changed last fall but there was talk of us moving to anchorage.) so i know he's got an itch to travel and to see and to experience things that he's never had a chance to do before.
and i think that's okay. it's never been my goal to live my life here. i've always wanted to live somewhere just a little bit warmer or maybe a little closer to a large body of water (saylorville lake just doesn't cut it for me anymore). and maybe i'm naive and stupid, but i truly don't think he's going to let us starve or live on the streets or have to panhandle to get milk for the little one. maybe moving would be good for us.
and then i reread all this and add in baby wal-mart and think that we've got to be crazy, to leave our support system and all our families and friends and the security we have here for the great unknown.
but it kind of seems like a wasted opportunity not to try, don't you think?
what's that quote? "two roads diverged in a wood and i-- i took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." but somehow i don't think asking myself what robert frost would do is going to solve this issue. (now maybe a solid "wwkd" - what would kathy do? that might work. sorry, inside joke.)
i really don't know. i don't know what will happen, i don't know where we'll end up. i guess having options can be a good thing.
but sometimes having too many options is like having too many cookies: it just gives me a stomachache.
yummy.
so the bee and i have done some discussing lately. most of our conversations have related to money and bills and preparing for the arrival of baby wal-mart. and we talk about my job and how i'm technically sort of overqualified for it and how i don't make enough money for the crap that i do and how i could be making more money if i'd just apply myself (those are all his words, not mine.) i talk mostly about how much i hate my job - and oh my goodness, i really do hate my job. the only challenge to my job anymore is either trying to find a good enough reason not to go or trying to find little things that i can do during the day to keep myself awake and presentable should the boss walk behind my cubicle.
basically that means that i'll stay home over something as exciting as tackling that dog puke stain on the steps with our new carpet cleaner. or if it happens that i've already used that excuse, then i'll see just how many people i can hang up on over the course of a day. i'll sign up for all the automatic dialer time that i can get during my shift and then not speak to a person, i'll just sit there and breathe into the phone.
anyway. i'm off track. so yeah, i hate what i do. the thing is - as it turns out, so does the bee. he's miserable in where he's working right now and somedays that boils down to a specific location and other days it means that he hates the company he works for.
have i ever told you that the bee is a union employee? (bring on the jokes about the breaks and the way long lunch hours - most of them are true.) yup, he's a union plumber and steamfitter. and he works for a good little company based in des moines. his benefits are awesome, his pay is awesome, and up until recently his job was pretty much the cat's pajamas. (i wanted to say the bee's knees but it's kind of overkill...)
but lately, he's been getting restless. the bee is a fifth-year apprentice in a union program and this is the year he "turns out" (to speak a little union-ese) and becomes a full-fledged journeyman in his trade (woohoo for raises!). and at that point he can pretty much work where ever he wants. for real. he could work in iowa and stay with the same local or he could move east or west, north or south and not have to worry about his rate of pay, benefits, what have you. its a pretty interesting thing they've got going, these union guys.
but the point of all this is that in a few months time, about the same time as the arrival of baby wal-mart, a whole new world of options is going to open up for him. almost literally. the timing isn't the greatest given that we'll have a brand new baby to contend with, but i can see in his face when we talk about this that he's really considering some changes.
i know what you're thinking. from the way i've carried on about the bee over the last year and a half, you think that he's never going to leave this place or his job or his mom. but to be perfectly honest, when i met the bee he informed me that we probably shouldn't get too involved as the time was coming when he was going to move to alaska and weld pipes in the great frozen tundra of the 49th state. and he was serious as hell, having completed most of the necessary paperwork and preparing to leave. (plans obviously changed last fall but there was talk of us moving to anchorage.) so i know he's got an itch to travel and to see and to experience things that he's never had a chance to do before.
and i think that's okay. it's never been my goal to live my life here. i've always wanted to live somewhere just a little bit warmer or maybe a little closer to a large body of water (saylorville lake just doesn't cut it for me anymore). and maybe i'm naive and stupid, but i truly don't think he's going to let us starve or live on the streets or have to panhandle to get milk for the little one. maybe moving would be good for us.
and then i reread all this and add in baby wal-mart and think that we've got to be crazy, to leave our support system and all our families and friends and the security we have here for the great unknown.
but it kind of seems like a wasted opportunity not to try, don't you think?
what's that quote? "two roads diverged in a wood and i-- i took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." but somehow i don't think asking myself what robert frost would do is going to solve this issue. (now maybe a solid "wwkd" - what would kathy do? that might work. sorry, inside joke.)
i really don't know. i don't know what will happen, i don't know where we'll end up. i guess having options can be a good thing.
but sometimes having too many options is like having too many cookies: it just gives me a stomachache.
19 January 2009
this has got to be one of the cutest things ever...
now i know i'm hormonal and lots of things make me cry, but this really made me cry. this little girl is amazing.
17 January 2009
i'm not eavesdropping, i have supersonic hearing
the bee and i had a late lunch at panera yesterday (and for anyone reading that *might* be a panera employee, it was the panera in [sp]ankeny and we need to coordinate on your schedule so i can get my bread stumps in a timely manner and we can all make the most of your employee discount...). but anyway. we were sitting at panera because even sick janel loves soup and bread and there was this adorable little family to the right of us - a mom and dad and two little girls. and the youngest was doing as young kids do, singing and talking loudly and trying to worm out of her seat. and you know what the mom turned to her and said?
(are you ready, because this cracks me up!)
"if you don't be good, i'm going to sell you to the gypsies."
what? for real? you just said that in public, lady? because that's awesome!
those are the kinds of things that kids remember when they're 28, almost 29-years-old. and those are the kinds of things they tell their friends after they're all grown up because they're so absurd and wrong (if not in a politically incorrect manner then just in a not-even-physically-possible manner) that they're just hilarious.
my mom was always telling me that "she brought me into this world and by god, she can take me out of it." yeah... NO. not without facing some serious consequences, lady. even as a kid, this used to make me giggle - long before i was aware of any legal consequences she might face but the idea of her trying to stuff me back in her tummy to take me out of this world was just funny to me.
and it still is.
my dad wasn't so much for empty threats. in fact, i don't remember my dad telling me anything really noteworthy over the years, beyond "don't wear purple shoes, they'll hurt your feet" or "save the whales: harpoon a fat chick." (i was in the 5th grade, you maroon! WTF?) i think my memories of my dad are a little warped.
now my grandma, my mom's mom? she was chock full of advice and quotes and other neat things that probably should have never been repeated outside of the house. like "a stiff penis has no conscience." that one has been in the family forever. she liked to give that advice before group dates and dances in the seventh grade.
nice, gram, thanks. now can you keep your voice down?
she was also known for "confucious say, man who stick hand in pocket feel silly. but man who stick two hands in pockets feel nuts." (you've got to imagine my grandma saying this with a fake asian accent. she did another accent too, a mexican accent, when she said that the only spanish she ever knew - or needed to know, thank you - "me llamo mickey." but she'd make this face and do this voice and "mickey" ended up sounding like "meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeckey." and it used to make me laugh.)
another quotable grandma moment? "it's okay to prick your finger but it's not okay to finger your prick." my brothers are still laughing about that one.
ahh, those were the days.
my mom's dad always used to call us kids "maynard" - as in "good stuff, maynard." (i say that all the time to the dog.) but his wife, our crazy cheese-sending grandma dorothy, had trouble with the basics, like names. she knew my name but for years called my brothers "greg and gordon." (their names are actually craig and jordan, but hey, grandma gets points for trying, right?)
anyway. all this is neat and fun but i was sitting there yesterday listening to this woman scar her children with threats of roaming, nomadic gypsies and i couldn't help but wonder what baby wal-mart will remember of me and the weird things that i say. if he could talk right now, i know he'd come out of the womb screaming at the dog to get down and asking if he got all his potties out. i tend to have serious conversations with the dog - i can hold his attention longer than i can hold the bee's... usually. especially when i'm holding food, but that tends to work on the bee too, so who knows. all i can say is that it's hard being the only female in this house sometimes. but whatever, boo hoo...
but i digress. it's just fascinating to me that this little person will be molded by the things that i say and that i do. and sometimes that gives me the heebie jeebies. like we need another superjanel around...
(are you ready, because this cracks me up!)
"if you don't be good, i'm going to sell you to the gypsies."
what? for real? you just said that in public, lady? because that's awesome!
those are the kinds of things that kids remember when they're 28, almost 29-years-old. and those are the kinds of things they tell their friends after they're all grown up because they're so absurd and wrong (if not in a politically incorrect manner then just in a not-even-physically-possible manner) that they're just hilarious.
my mom was always telling me that "she brought me into this world and by god, she can take me out of it." yeah... NO. not without facing some serious consequences, lady. even as a kid, this used to make me giggle - long before i was aware of any legal consequences she might face but the idea of her trying to stuff me back in her tummy to take me out of this world was just funny to me.
and it still is.
my dad wasn't so much for empty threats. in fact, i don't remember my dad telling me anything really noteworthy over the years, beyond "don't wear purple shoes, they'll hurt your feet" or "save the whales: harpoon a fat chick." (i was in the 5th grade, you maroon! WTF?) i think my memories of my dad are a little warped.
now my grandma, my mom's mom? she was chock full of advice and quotes and other neat things that probably should have never been repeated outside of the house. like "a stiff penis has no conscience." that one has been in the family forever. she liked to give that advice before group dates and dances in the seventh grade.
nice, gram, thanks. now can you keep your voice down?
she was also known for "confucious say, man who stick hand in pocket feel silly. but man who stick two hands in pockets feel nuts." (you've got to imagine my grandma saying this with a fake asian accent. she did another accent too, a mexican accent, when she said that the only spanish she ever knew - or needed to know, thank you - "me llamo mickey." but she'd make this face and do this voice and "mickey" ended up sounding like "meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeckey." and it used to make me laugh.)
another quotable grandma moment? "it's okay to prick your finger but it's not okay to finger your prick." my brothers are still laughing about that one.
ahh, those were the days.
my mom's dad always used to call us kids "maynard" - as in "good stuff, maynard." (i say that all the time to the dog.) but his wife, our crazy cheese-sending grandma dorothy, had trouble with the basics, like names. she knew my name but for years called my brothers "greg and gordon." (their names are actually craig and jordan, but hey, grandma gets points for trying, right?)
anyway. all this is neat and fun but i was sitting there yesterday listening to this woman scar her children with threats of roaming, nomadic gypsies and i couldn't help but wonder what baby wal-mart will remember of me and the weird things that i say. if he could talk right now, i know he'd come out of the womb screaming at the dog to get down and asking if he got all his potties out. i tend to have serious conversations with the dog - i can hold his attention longer than i can hold the bee's... usually. especially when i'm holding food, but that tends to work on the bee too, so who knows. all i can say is that it's hard being the only female in this house sometimes. but whatever, boo hoo...
but i digress. it's just fascinating to me that this little person will be molded by the things that i say and that i do. and sometimes that gives me the heebie jeebies. like we need another superjanel around...
16 January 2009
it's too cold for toast
it's too cold to blog. and i'm sick. i have the flu, i think. i'm fever-y and ache-y and all around uck-y. again, i'm home. my head would feel better if i weren't sitting here typing, staring at this screen, but i can't sleep and i have terrible heartburn. and so i sit. mom says this is what i get for playing hooky and she's probably right. but how was i supposed to know.
yesterday i had to take the bee to the er. he came home sick yesterday, complaining of a headache so bad he couldn't see. of course, hypochondriac that i am, my first thought was "oh holy hell, it's an aneurysm." my second thought: "do i have time to shower?"
as it turned out, his brain is fine (as fine as it's ever been) - it was a migraine that came out of nowhere and literally kicked his ass all the way to the doctor's office. the bee never wants to go to the doctor - it's too expensive, they don't know what they're talking about, they're crazy -blah, blah, blah - there's always some reason that he's smarter than anyone whose initials end in M.D. so when he came home yesterday, practically crying and screaming, "i'm dying, i need a doctor" i was definitely shocked.
and that was pretty much my day yesterday. between my general uckiness and his blinding headache, we were quite a pair, bundled up against the cold in the house of ills. even the dog seems to be suffering from a subtle malaise - i think because it's just too freaking cold for him to do anything outside - the poor thing freezes to the ground every time he goes to potty and what a miserable feeling that must be. he always looks back at me like, "do i really have to walk in all this snow and all this cold? come get me, don't make me go out here..."
breaks my heart every time, i tell ya. every time.
i was going to make toast but i'm cold. i'm going back to bed. it's too cold for toast
yesterday i had to take the bee to the er. he came home sick yesterday, complaining of a headache so bad he couldn't see. of course, hypochondriac that i am, my first thought was "oh holy hell, it's an aneurysm." my second thought: "do i have time to shower?"
as it turned out, his brain is fine (as fine as it's ever been) - it was a migraine that came out of nowhere and literally kicked his ass all the way to the doctor's office. the bee never wants to go to the doctor - it's too expensive, they don't know what they're talking about, they're crazy -blah, blah, blah - there's always some reason that he's smarter than anyone whose initials end in M.D. so when he came home yesterday, practically crying and screaming, "i'm dying, i need a doctor" i was definitely shocked.
and that was pretty much my day yesterday. between my general uckiness and his blinding headache, we were quite a pair, bundled up against the cold in the house of ills. even the dog seems to be suffering from a subtle malaise - i think because it's just too freaking cold for him to do anything outside - the poor thing freezes to the ground every time he goes to potty and what a miserable feeling that must be. he always looks back at me like, "do i really have to walk in all this snow and all this cold? come get me, don't make me go out here..."
breaks my heart every time, i tell ya. every time.
i was going to make toast but i'm cold. i'm going back to bed. it's too cold for toast
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