Because I Like Wearing Sweaters In The Summer

Long story short, I broke my right wrist.  I’m right handed, mostly.  Forgive me for typos, and comments that don’t make sense.  If I leave ‘heh” at your blog, that’s short hand for any number of things.  I tried taking a pic of my wonderful cast, but the muscle relaxant has caused my eye to twitch so it didn’t come out.

 

Commence feeling sorry for me at any time.

 

$165 An Hour to Find Myself

You will excuse me if I have to get a Kleenex in the middle of this post.  I’ve written and rewritten it for the past month or so and I’m still emotional about it.

 

I have been talking with my mother more and more.  I love my mother.  But I put a stigma on my family when I had a breakdown that both my parents had to live through.  I know, I know it shouldn’t be about them.  I was the one who was sick.  I was the one who almost didn’t survive.  But ask any suicide survivor who is embarrassed by them now and they will give you at least one name.

 

I have been faithful in going to my therapist who charges $165 an hour to fix me.  And recently, I added going to my new Pastor and his wife for some spiritual guidance and therapy.  Yes, I am that screwed up.  I would like to think I appear to have it together, but I know that I don’t.  Anyways.

 

Yes I do have a point, I’m moseying my way there.  My mom was himhawing around and I knew she was wanting to tell me something.  So after awhile, I just asked her to spit it out.  And you could hear her sweat knife blades.  But I laughed.  It was funny.  It hasn’t always been funny.  I know that.  I know talking to me was like walking on egg shells. But I laughed.  And my mom said she hadn’t heard that laugh since I was a little girl.  Suddenly, she wasn’t nervous anymore.  Suddenly, I wasn’t the fine China that could break if spoken at the wrong decibel.  Suddenly, I’m not the fragile one anymore.

 

I like the final scene in City Slickers where Billy Crystal says, “Today is my best day”.

 

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

 

 

We Would Have To Call And Check What The Other Was Wearing If We Worked Together

I promise, I didn’t plan on this.  We just like change at the same time.  It’s almost eerie if you think about it.  Of course design is her profession and hers like great!!!!!

 

But I didn’t plan on changing at the same time.

 

 

I’m Sure Their Barbies Head Were Cut Off

I have found the perfect babysitter.  I want her to quit school, move in with me and send occasional post cards home to let them know she’s fine.  She is that good.  However I thought it might be fun to know about the girls who didn’t get the call back.

 

Me: So I am looking just for part time help right now.

Her: If I work over 10 hours a week, my hair starts to fall out.

Next

 

Me:  Do you prefer to work mornings or evenings?

Her:  I’m not usually sober till about 2 PM.

Next

 

Me:  I have been looking for awhile for a babysitter.

Her: Well, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but are you tired or is that make up under your eyes?

Next

 

Me:  I got your name from so and so.

Her:  You wear a lot of nice jewelry .  Are those real diamonds?

 

Me:  Do you…………

Her:  Does your computer have blah blah blah blah

Me:  I’ll be talking my computer with me….

Her:  Oh………………

Next

 

God I hope these girls take birth control later in life.

Redneck Digest, Volume 1

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Redneck Digest, Volume 1, originally uploaded by Melissa and Co.

What I get to look at every time I leave my apartment. Classy.

Reason #93920 Why The Olympics Rejected Me

I was born with a grace that would make Jim Carey look like a ballerina.  I have broken all of my toes, only because I have ran into walls, cabinets, my own feet.  I’m a klutz.  It’s not a complete family reunion if I don’t spill some thing on some one, usually not myself.  If I haven’t dropped a plate, knocked over my glass, or turned over the gravy boat, I go home happy.

 

I tell you all of this for one reason.  Yesterday I mopped my kitchen floor and needed one of these signs.  I did a move that can only be describe as award winning at best and painful at worst.    Only, I am not a ballerina.  I get cramps stretching for Pilates.  Joshua was sitting in his high chair and the laugh that came out of his mouth, well he really thought it was funny.  And it was for him.

 

As for me, I am bruised.  My legs were never ever meant to do what I did yesterday.  But my ego, still miraculously intact.

 

 

Updated to add:  thank you for the reader who emailed me and asked why I would be stretching for Plates.  I wasn’t.  I do stretch for Pilates though.  And there I prove I’m graceless typing and in person.

Heaven Came Down And Glory Filled My Soul

I hired a part time babysitter.  And she’s not a psycho, serial killer or just yucky.

 

I can breath again!!!!

 

That is all.

Good Idea Vs. Reality

 

Good Idea:  Eat the onions I cooked in the roast at 4:30 am because I was hungry.

Reality:        Indigestion  that lasted a whole day.

 

Good Idea:  Cross my leg in church to get more comfortable.

Reality:        Slinging across the isle the purse of my neighbor when her strap got caught on my foot.

 

Good Idea:  Feeding Joshua spinach with a little flaxseed oil for supper.

Reality:        Knowing that spinach cleans out the baby poop and so does flaxseed oil, especially at 3 am.

 

Good Idea:  Watching the History Channel to go to sleep.

Reality:         Bad dreams about being sent to Alcatraz for tax evasion or buying cheap diapers, the trial details are fuzzy.

 

The Smallest Thread Unraveled

In divorce court, often the phrase heard is, “It all started when I noticed he/she had this annoying habit”.  Meaning, the person in question had always had  this habit, but it only recently had begun to grate on the others nerves.  And grate and grate and grate. 

 

Recently, I have had a little more stress than usual.  And Joshua was starting to feel the brunt of it.  And I can laugh it this today, but Thursday morning, it wasn’t so funny.  See, it started out in the morning and I went to wash dishes.  No soap.  Not a problem right?  Shouldn’t have been, but instead I just kept thinking if I was more organized I would have realized I was running low.  I go to do laundry, again I am OUT of soap.  And then my mop broke. 

 

I was sitting on the kitchen floor, wallowing in self pity when Joshua crawls in and has poop all over his legs, clothes and hands.  That was the finale thread.  Something had to give.  And he’s cute, he couldn’t give.

 

I called a friend and I don’t know how they deciphered from my “No sooooooooooappppppp, (hic) pooppppppppppppppp” (hic, hic), but they did.  I sent Joshua to stay the day with them.  I honestly couldn’t have done anything with him after the mop broke.  Go ahead and laugh at the image of a distressed 30 year old woman on the floor crying because she is out of soap and a mop.  It’s funny.  But it wasn’t funny.

 

My friends called my that night and said Joshua was entertaining them and their grand kids so much, could he stay the night?  A few months ago, I would have said no.  And mostly because I would have felt like I was shucking my duty.  Like I was failing because, well there is no because.  He stayed the night.

 

When I picked him up the next day, he looked less daunting than the day before.  Less demanding.  While he is the same, I am different.  I have more thread to start the day with.

 

Very Personal

I have something to talk about.  I have questioned it over and over in my mind if it’s some thing to discuss, but I keep coming back to yes it is.  And I asked the bits and pieces that are involved, and I’m assuming the silence as a sign of permission.

 

When Joshua was 10 weeks old, I had lazar surgery of the cervix for cancer removal.  Stage 1, nothing invasive. 

 

I had my pap smear a couple of weeks ago as I am on an every three month lather rinse repeat cycle.  Only this time, IT came back.

 

I had a colposcopy and the cancer is still in Stage 1.  I will again have lazar surgery to remove the cancer cells, only this time they will go deeper into the skin levels than last time.  The next step after that would be a partial hysterectomy.

 

I am optimistic.  I have hope.  The doctor caught this early and feel like I am on the track for health.  However, according to the CDC, in 2004 an estimated 3,900 women died of this cancer.  That’s a lot of women when it could have been found early and treated.  I am lucky and I realize this.  Yet I know a lot of women put off getting a pap smear thinking they aren’t at risk.  Or they are too young.  I am thirty.  I don’t feel I’m in the old bracket yet.

 

I call it my yearly scrape and fondle.  Have you scheduled your scrape and fondle yet?

 

My bits and pieces are now getting stage fright and would like to take a nap.  They will keep you informed of further development if it should occur.