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Archive for May, 2010

Have-not

It’s Memorial Day and she’d rather be camping.

She has yet to learn we are not a camping kind of family.

That doesn’t mean we won’t be making S’mores today.

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Aqua sparkle

Molly

Yeah, another picture of the dog, but I just had to show you the color we painted our foyer walls.

If you look to the bottom right of the picture just past Molly’s collar you’ll see it.

It looks much better on the walls.

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I spent some time today clearing out the drafts of my unpublished posts. Some were posts that had been published and retracted, some never made it past the first sentence while others were complete posts that just needed a good title.

I deleted most of the drafts today, republished some of the retracted posts and saved a few of the drafts to finish later. Of the stuff I did delete, I decided to save a few choice excerpts to publish here.

So here we go.

In the beginning I couldn’t get through a discussion without crying. Sometimes I would clean my face and remove all my makeup because I knew it was going to be bad. Other times I’d go in determined to keep myself together only to wind up a wreck when the conversation took an unexpected turn. But therapists can be sneaky like that.”

She became hysterical as Nathan and I stood there in shock. Every word was like knives being thrust into our hearts and yet we could do nothing more than stare dumbfounded as our child wept in the bathtub.

Finally I said, ‘Honey, I’ve told you before that we love you no matter how naughty you are. We’d never send you away to another family.’”

I miss working with men.”

I kept the worst mess of a bedroom throughout adolescence, and it was actually my husband’s willingness to clean that room for me that led to me falling in love with him. No one had ever offered to clean my bedroom before.”

To this day I have no idea why I chose the sombrero. It was huge, monstrous even, and there was absolutely no place to store the thing on our bus. It didn’t fit in the overhead bins and I wasn’t exactly going to wear it all the way home. I wound up shoving the thing under my seat, from whence it emerged dirty and misshapen.”

I smiled at her. ‘Yes, this is your song.’ Mama was so proud, not only because the girl had been shaking her thing to the likes of Al Green and Michael Jackson all evening, but it was the second time that night she recognized a piece of music from something she had seen weeks earlier. We had heard Leslie Gore sing ‘It’s My Party’ at the grocery store and Autumn asked me if it was the song from the ‘naughty kids.’ I didn’t know she was talking about until I recalled the song had played during the birthday party sequence of Problem Child, a movie we unwittingly exposed her to a couple of weeks ago.”

My husband has lately been yearning for an apocalypse or some other such catastrophic event that would put his survival skills to the test. I don’t know if it’s boredom or if he misses his X-Box 360, but he has said on a couple occasions recently how cool it would be to be in the middle of something like that. We’ve also been watching episodes of ‘Jericho’ through Netflix and I guess the whole post-apocalyptic lifestyle appeals to him. I found this a little disturbing, especially since these gun-toting, survivalist fantasies of his don’t take into account the well-being of his three year-old daughter.”

There are two kinds of fat women.”

So the New Year is now upon us and I am very much looking forward to it. I have a list of resolutions for the next twelve months. I don’t usually make a list because my goals are the same; lose weight, exercise more, yadda yaddda yadda. In fact as long as I’ve been able to put pen to paper I’ve only made a list of resolutions once and I was drunk at the time. I can’t recall if I ever stuck to what was on the list, but I can tell you it was pretty funny finding that list years later in the pocket of the coat I wore that night.”

And what about the tech? Back in 1988 mobile phones were a luxury and certainly not compact enough to conceal in your back pocket or stuff down your bra. Back then when the phone lines were cut they were CUT and your only way to communicate with the outside world was to toss a dead terrorist out the window and onto an unsuspecting police cruiser. But today? Today John McClane could simply borrow someone’s iPhone or Blackberry to stay connected to the outside world. And when he’s done dispatching terrorists he could consult Urban Spoon for suggestions on where to find a quality post-hostage crisis meal.”

As you can see, I’m all over the place with these, but I like to think they represent what this blog is all about. Life, humor, family, sadness and joy.

And, of course, Die Hard.

Do you care to share what’s in your slush pile? If so, leave a link to your post in the comments. Who knows? This could be fun.

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I met with a new orthopedist this morning. It’s been two years since I had someone look at my knees and I felt I needed a second opinion on what is and is not possible in terms of physical activity.

The good news is I do not need any more surgery.

The bad news is I have a fairly advanced case of osteoarthritis for someone my age. The doctor said on a scale from 1-4, a woman in her late 30s should expect to be anywhere from a 1-2 in terms of joint degeneration. I’m at about a 4.2.

Of course I asked him if such advanced arthritis could have been caused by my weight. He said yes but that it also could be hereditary. It’s probably a combination of the two, but I don’t have the medical degree to back up that theory.

More good news is that I can get back on the elliptical. Since I’m so in love with the arc trainer right now I’m not really missing the elliptical, but it’s nice to know I have the option. The doctor said I can do whatever I want as long as it doesn’t put too much strain on the knees and it doesn’t cause me pain.

Alas running is out of the question. That kind of sucks because I would have liked to have trained for a 5K after taking more of the weight off. I know running can be very empowering and rewarding and it makes me just a little bit sad that I won’t get to experience that.

I guess I’ll just have to be awesome some other way.

I have no idea if the arthritis will get better or worse and neither does the doctor. He says I’m doing all the right things by taking the weight off and exercising regularly and I have some physical therapy scheduled in a couple of weeks to help with the everyday pain I’ve been experiencing for awhile.

I’ve never had physical therapy before. I did go with my mother once after she injured her knee. I was around 13 or 14 years old and all I remember about that session was that she screamed. A lot.

**Sigh**

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DSC_0065_au

I had to tell her four times to stop yanking leaves off the tree.

You just don’t do that sort of thing at an organic farm.

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Swan dive

Yesterday I forgot to bring my bag with me to work. My bag contains whatever I think I need during the day. Sometimes what the bag holds varies depending the day and yesterday the bag held my sneakers, my glasses and a box of Fiber One bars.

I realized I’d forgotten the bag once I got to work and threw everything on my desk. Oh hey, I’m short a bag, I thought. Luckily Nathan was at home and I asked him if he could bring it in.  After issuing a big sigh he said that wouldn’t be a problem.

Three hours later he showed up with my glasses.

“Where’s my bag?” I asked.

“I just brought these,” he said and handed me the eyeglass case.

“But I asked you to bring the bag,” I said.

He started to ask why I needed the bag and then remembered something I’d said about wanting to take a walk on my lunch. I needed the sneakers in the bag.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I forgot you wanted the shoes, too.”

Because I can be kind of a jerk sometimes, I started to press him as to how he could reach into THE BAG for my glasses and pull them out of THE BAG and not remember that I had asked him to bring THE BAG with him.  Then I dropped it because he’s a guy and probably did not want to walk into my office and down the aisle to the very end where my desk is while carrying THE BAG.

My husband is awesome and I thanked him for bringing in the glasses. I shrugged off the forgotten bag because he wasn’t the one who left it home in the first place.

A while later I called Nathan and told him I’d probably be coming back to campus that evening to work out since I wouldn’t be walking during my lunch. He suggested we make it a family thing and he’d take Autumn to the pool while I worked out at the Rec Center. I could then join them in the pool when I was done.

So that’s what we did. I checked them in at the pool, checked myself in at the Rec Center, worked out on the arc trainer for a half hour and went back down to the pool.

But this is what happened when I tried to get into the pool.

As I was lowering myself down the ladder, my foot missed a step and my hands, all sweaty from the workout, lost their grip on the rail. I banged my left knee and right shin against the side of the pool and fell into the water.

I surfaced and gasped from the pain.  Christ it hurt.

The lifeguard, who up to that point had seemed very disinterested in his job, called over and asked if I was okay. I waved him off. Yes, I was okay. I just felt like an idiot.

As we were walking back out to the car after our swim, Nathan and I chuckled about my graceful entrance into the water and he asked if I was going to post about it on Twitter.

I told him I wasn’t going to mention it but that I wouldn’t be surprised if someone else had posted that they just saw a fat lady fall into a pool.

Because that’s what our lives have become. Moments that are Twitter-worthy and moments that are not.

Some people like me, who tend to be a little more narcissistic, like to stretch out a story beyond 140 characters.

Long story short, I fell into a pool last night and bruised up my legs.

That is all.

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