Past vs. Present

I miss blogging.  Don't have time for it, but I miss it none the less.  What brought me here was a spam comment that annoyed me.  I went to delete that baby and started reading old posts. 

To put it bluntly I am amazed at how miserable I was at times.  This post really got me thinking about how far I've come in the last three years.

On May 3, 2013 I celebrated three years of abstinence, I have lost and kept off 110 lbs. and have also maintained my sobriety during that time.  Sure my physical health has improved considerably.  No more high cholesterol, no more high blood pressure, no more joint pain (that bad ankle feels much better without having to carry all that extra weight), no more crazy blood sugar spikes and drops leaving me feeling shaky and weak.

The biggest change though has been my mental health.  Who knew abstaining from certain foods and alcohol would make things that seemed impossible easy as pie (yeah, I still describe things using food).  Actually, abstaining from the certain foods and alcohol didn't make the changes, working the twelve steps as outlined in the Big Book of AA did.  Of course, there is no way I could of done the work without having my head cleared of the food/alcohol fog.

Everything is different, yet everything remains the same.  I'm the only thing that's changed in this equation called life.  As Thomas Jefferson said, "People are just as happy as they make up their minds to be."  The only caveat was my mind was such a mess I couldn't see the forest through the trees.  Doing the step work cleaned that mess up.

Now I live my life like this:  clean house, trust G-d, help others.

By the way, clean house isn't my literal house (although that is much cleaner too), it's the mess that was in my head.  Also, I should note that after cleaning that house out, under all the crap I found secret compartments, where childhood pain and abuse were tucked away.  I tried to just pretend they weren't there.  That attitude almost cost me my sobriety.  I'm working on those compartments now with the help of a therapist.  I'm doing really well.  A few weeks ago my doctor cut the dosage of my last anti depressant in half.  None of this has been easy.  My family and friends have been infinitely patient.

I am blessed beyond belief.

Honey I'm Home....

Did you miss me? I sure missed you guys. It may be hard for some of you to believe but I have been without a laptop for all this time. I had limited access to a PC off and on but nothing steady. I've had to weed through literally hundreds of emails in the last few days. I also learned a few things over these last few months...

1) I can live without email. In fact, I enjoyed not being a slave to the call of the ping.

2) Blogging rocks but it is a time sucker.

3) I missed my forums, instant access to information and I had a lot of overdue books at the library.

4) When you're saving your money for something you thought was so important and other things happen (a hole in our roof, 6 new tires on two cars in one week, and a car accident that totaled The Engineer's car) you realize what really is a priority in your life.

Some good blogging fodder has passed but I'm sure I'll get you caught up in the next few weeks but in the mean time let me give you a quick update..

My new laptop is Window's based. As much as I would of loved a MAC I just couldn't afford one. I'm happy just to be back to the 21st Century.

Speaking of 21st Century, I still don't have an I-Pod or a Kindle but I'd love one. They're next on my list.

I'm working full time again. With prices rising almost daily and The Engineer not getting a raise last year and not expected to get one for another two it was just getting too tight for comfort.

I had to give up volunteering at the vet's office. I hope to go back when the kids are a little older.

I did get a new cell phone with a QWERTY (did I spell that right?) keyboard. Texting has slowly crept into my life as a result.

OA update: I celebrated 10 months of abstinence on March 3rd and I've lost 76 lbs.

We've added additional critters....details to follow.

I survived another season as a Cookie Mom.

The Scientist, The Vet and Baseball Boy (who doesn't play baseball anymore) are growing like weeds.

Anyway folks, that's enough for now....time to get dinner started.

Yes, there are good people out there.

The last week has been a difficult one. A couple of things happened that really rocked me. One I've completely put behind me and after the second one occurred it really highlighted how insignificant the first one really was. I know it's mean to do this but I can't talk about either one of them yet. For now you'll just have to know that it was a crappy week.

I usually work on Saturday nights but yesterday I switched shifts with another EMT so he could pick up another shift at another squad. So I worked during the day yesterday and was home last night. This morning I woke up, rested, at about 9 AM. I was ready to spend the day with the family and was looking forward to it. At 9:15 AM my cell phone rang and ruined all my plans. It was my boss. She asked me if I was planning to come to work today. At that very moment I remembered that I was supposed to be at work at 7 AM. Apparently they didn't notice I wasn't there until 9 AM (just kidding). My boss, being ever so empathetic told me to get my ass to work. She told me to shower when I got there. Of course I said sure, knowing that there is no way I am stepping foot in the showers at the squad. I told myself as I jumped in the shower that by the time I gathered all the necessary items to shower there I'd be done my shower. While I'm in the shower my husband asks what he can do to help me. I asked him to pack my breakfast. I didn't know what to tell him about lunch. So I get to work and we get a call right away. Then on the way back we were going to stop at the grocery store and as we were pulling into the parking lot we were dispatched to that very grocery store for a seizure patient. So I didn't get my lunch but we got there pretty quick to help him.

On the way back from the hospital we stop at a convenience store. I go in and get my food and I go to check out and my debit card is declined. I am surprised and don't really know what to do. All I have is the debit card, no cash, no other cards and me not eating a meal is very bad indeed. The clerk is kind but there isn't anything she can do. I go over to the ATM to check my balance and it tells me I have $2.00 in my checking account. That's it, it's over, no food for me. Dejected I walk back over to the clerk to tell her I don't have the money and to put the stuff back. As I'm walking over the gentleman who was standing behind me in line asks me if I have the money for my lunch. I told him I was embarrassed to say that I didn't. Bless his kind heart he offered to pay for my food. One of the tenants of OA is learning to accept help when you need it. I told him that my meal was expensive. You can find an abstinent meal at a convenience store but you're going to pay for it. He said it didn't matter, that he wanted to buy my meal. He told me he wanted to help me since I help others (don't forget I was in uniform). I was touched by his generosity and accepted his offer of help.

I need to remember that there are more good people than bad out there. His kindness meant more to me than he could ever know. Skipping meals can trigger cravings which could be a disaster. With his simple offer he may have prevented me making a bad decision. What could have really been the icing on the cake for this crappy week turned into a bright spot.

Thank you Mr. Elderly Gentleman. I hope you never need my services but I'll be there if you do.

100 Days

As of midnight last night I have completed 100 days of abstinence. No flour, no sugar, no alcohol, no compulsive eating and no binge foods. As of August 1st I have lost 36 lbs.

I can now wear clothes that haven't fit me in two years, maybe more. I can now grocery shop without anxiety.

I still have trouble making meals for my family that I can not eat. The Engineer is working hard at being patient.

I still go to at least three meetings a week. I talk to my sponsor almost every day. I diligently work the steps.

The first thirty days were hard. The next sixty flew by. The last ten have been difficult.

For every door I slam close on my disease it works diligently to find another way in. It is relentless. It looks for any opportunity to trip me up.

I pray daily for the serenity to accept the things I can not change, courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference. Before program these words meant nothing to me. Now they mean everything.

My Higher Power is my only defense. Self-will avails me nothing.

One day at a time.

It Started with a Blood Test: cont...

Before reading this post go back and read this one or it will make no sense. Unless of course you have an incredible memory for useless information, then you can just read on.

It took forever for the secondary test results to come back. They said 60 days and it was even longer than that. I can't imagine what the patient and his family were feeling during that time. I may never know. The good news is the results came back positive. I am a match. The bad news is the patients "situation" has changed and he is no longer a candidate for a bone marrow transplant. Now this could mean several things. The worst news would be that he died waiting. Or his condition could have worsened to the point that he wouldn't survive the necessary assault on his current bone marrow to prepare him for a transplant. The best news would be that he has gone into spontaneous remission and no longer needs a transplant. I don't know, and probably will never know what happened. I try to remain hopeful that he experienced a positive outcome but the cynical black cloud I carry around keeps me from accepting that possibility.

The consolation prize in all this is that my secondary test results are now on file. The next time I am a preliminary match there will be no waiting period to find out if I am a true match. Maybe someone else will benefit.

I pray that my brother in bone marrow has had a significant recovery and he should know that if that should ever change it will be my honor to share the gift of life with him.

Out of Sorts

One of the toughest things to do since joining OA is to go grocery shopping. I go with my list in hand, like I always have, but just walking past all the foods I love (a sick love, but love none the less) increases my anxiety with each step. Handing the job over to The Engineer has crossed my mind, but (isn't there always a but) he has a tendency to freelance and not stick completely to the list. That could cause a real problem for me. I'm not ready to have my binge foods just laying around the house, whispering to me, begging me to eat them.

I usually call my sponsor or someone on my team before I go inside for a little pep talk. Tonight no one answered their phone. I know I could call home or a friend but some things just need to be dealt with by someone who's been there.

I have been home for two hours and am still dealing with the residual anxiety. I really just want to go to bed but I can't sleep with this on my mind. I had a very busy weekend, and really need the rest.

The good news is my food supply is restocked. Lots of fruit and fresh veggies. Now if I can keep the vultures away I might actually get to eat some of it.

I'm also feeling some anxiety because one of my team is having a difficult time right now. Signs of relapse are creeping into their way of living. It scares me. There by the grace of G-d go I. We're going to have a heart to heart tomorrow.

The bond I have developed with people from OA in such a short time has been amazing. The level of trust within the fellowship is like nothing I've ever experienced before.

Tomorrow I will have been abstinent for 14 days, two weeks, even I can't believe it. I haven't felt this good since I can't remember when. They told me that my abstinence would become precious to me. I didn't understand. Now I do, I want to protect it and nurture it at all costs. It is the first step in my new life.

Step One

We admitted that we were powerless over food --- that our lives have become unmanageable.

Unmanageable: Unable to control.
Powerless: Lacking strength; helpless.

Two big words right there. Staring me in the face.

Powerless over food? Until recently I just thought I had no willpower, and was a failure with no self control. I thought the constant eating and sneaking food to satisfy cravings was my own weakness. There was no one to blame but myself. Nothing more, nothing less. The self loathing, disgust and feelings of failure haunted me any time I stopped for fast food or donuts (with the excuse that I wanted coffee), ate when I was already full, piled my plate high and ate bowl after bowl of ice cream after everyone had gone to bed. I'd drop the kids off for a class and head to the nearest food joint to get my "fix." I also would eat when I was happy, sad, tired, angry, the list goes on and on. It's like I was eating over my emotions. Some foods, pizza, soft pretzels, ice cream, pasta, white bread I couldn't stop once I started. These have now been identified as my binge foods or trigger foods. When I ate them I physically craved them for days on end sometimes longer. Powerless over food, you bet, it was like it was whispering to me.

Unmanageable, that's a tough pill to swallow. Who wants to admit defeat. That they have lost control of their lives. That getting out of bed had become a supreme effort. That cooking and cleaning seemed like an overwhelming task. That I kept missing appointments and forgetting obligations. That on more days than I care to admit my kids fended for themselves. That as hard as getting up had become, falling asleep was just as difficult.

I'm working towards completing Step One. If you can't accept Step One nothing else will work. I am powerless over food, it controls me and even though I never woke up from a sugar crash, my poor diet (even a seemingly healthy diet isn't; when you freelance crap food) was finally catching up with my ability to function. Stuffed and overfed I'd sit on the couch, unable and unwilling to move. The physical demands of my job were beginning to wear me down. When you are carrying around 110 lbs of extra weight even walking the dogs was becoming a burden.

Tonight I complete day three of abstinence. I am eating only three meals a day and am not eating my binge foods or any white flour. I'm still working on my food plan. My sponsor is a no nonsense type of woman. I have hope, it's a small amount but it's more than I've had in a very long time.

A Personal Discovery

Over the last few weeks as I explore myself and my habits with my sponsor I have learned a lot about myself. Some stuff I've always known. Some stuff I've known but blocked with denial and other stuff have been completely new to me. I am only beginning this journey.

I've always known I like to have things my own way. But it's one thing to know it in your head and know it in your heart.

Today something happened that might of opened up my heart to it, at least a little bit. Baseball Boy has had a wart on his knee for a while. We tried freezing it with over the counter products but all it did was respond by growing bigger.

Last week we finally admitted defeat and I called the doctor to make an appointment to have it removed. The appointment was this morning. Last Friday afternoon while sliding into second base the wart tore right off. I wasn't there, The Engineer was at the game with him, but reports were that he was okay until other parents started freaking out. In case you didn't know warts bleed a lot. They got the bleeding controlled and he stayed to cheer his team on for the rest of the game but for him the game was over.

This morning at the doctors office the nurse tells us it's better to cut it off then freeze it. They will numb his knee cut it out and then freeze the root. Most of it was torn off anyway and it made sense.

The doctor comes in and she's on a mission. This one didn't waste any time with small talk. Baseball Boy is being brave until she turns around with a syringe, clear liquid dripping from the end of the needle. She wasted no time in going for the knee with the needle. Baseball Boy reaches over and grabs onto me. She takes his leg and just gives him the shot. There are some tears but no hysterical crying. After the knee is numb (which is almost instantaneous) she gets a flexible razor and shaves that thing down. Before I know it she's spraying the spot with the freezing stuff (that's the technical term ;-) ). Explains what to expect and we're done. Both the nurse and the doctor tell Baseball Boy how great he did and leave.

Baseball Boy is fine. I on the other hand am ready to freak out. Not from the blood or the procedure. But because all that happened so fast. They had explained what they were going to do, no surprises there. But when Baseball Boy reached over and grabbed onto me I wanted to stop. Right there and calm him down. When she didn't I felt powerless.

I couldn't wait to get out of the office. I felt like I was about to freak out. I had no control in there, the resulting feelings overwhelmed me. Normally if something like that happens I would bee line it for food. Now I know I can't do that. I have to face the feelings not cover them over.

We get in the car and I ask Baseball Boy how he is. I'm expecting him to be as freaked out as I am. His response surprised me. He said that it wasn't too bad. That he liked the doctor. I asked him why he grabbed me when she came at him with the needle. I thought it was because he wanted her to stop but he told me he just needed to hold all of me and not just my hand. Stopping her would have made it worse for him not better. Stopping her would have only made it better for me because I thought I had to stop her for him. He didn't need that. I needed to control the situation not let Baseball Boy and her control the situation.

I know as his parent it is my job to protect him. But I'm always preaching how you have to let them protect themselves with your guidance. I didn't let him do that, I did what I needed, yeah I thought it was what he needed but I didn't listen to him. He didn't say stop or try to get away after she grabbed his leg. He just rolled to the side and grabbed me.

So I learned a lot today. Baseball Boy applied what I had already taught him. I am proud of him for that. I am proud of myself for seeing that it wasn't about me having to control the situation to make it okay for him, even if it took me time to figure it out. It still took me a while to relax over my lack of control in the doctors office. I'm not totally over it yet. But I see it and that's the first step.

It started with a blood test.

Ten years ago or so I filled out paperwork to become a bone marrow donor and gave a sample of blood. Someone I knew, knew someone who needed a transplant and no one on the current list was a match so they were going around getting people to sign up in the hopes of finding a match. If I remember correctly no match was ever found and the person passed away.

About six months or so ago I was cleaning out my wallet and found my card for the National Bone Marrow Donor program. I figured I better give them a call and change my information since I had moved.

As fate would have it about an hour ago the phone rang and The Vet answered and said hey Mom the Red Cross wants to talk to you. Since I'm a regular blood donor I figured they were looking to see if I could schedule a donation.

It was Jay from the National Bone Marrow Registry. He was very happy to find me. He said that a 62 year old man was a preliminary match. He has a rare fancy form of leukemia (he didn't really say exactly that, I just can't remember the exact name). He wanted to know if I was still willing to be a donor if additional testing proved I was a match. He explained the two possible procedures to me. I said, of course.

He then went on the ask me all the usual questions. If you've ever given blood you know what they are. Have you ever taken illegal drugs by needle? Have you visited or lived in Africa since 1977? Have you ever had sex with a man who has had sex with a man since 1977? Have you ever had sex with anyone who has ever done any of the above? There were 20 questions, I don't remember most of them but they all related to illegal drug use, travel and sex. I'm boring, I said no to all of them. I haven't even gotten a tattoo. My boring life is good news for some 62 year old man somewhere.

Next Monday I'm scheduled for another blood test to see if we match at the next level. I'm a little nervous about donating marrow. But I figure it would be a small price to pay to give someone a gift of life.

Say a few prayers, keep your fingers crossed or what ever, that I am a match and am eligible to donate.

Why do I do this to myself?

What you ask? Let see there are so many things that I seem to do over and over. Procrastinate, over schedule myself, volunteer myself to help someone (when I can barely keep up with my own obligations), digress, open mouth insert foot, not checking the calender and give up sleep in an effort to do it all, just to name a few.

Any and all of these things contribute to the over whelming stress I feel sometimes. So what sent me over the edge this time?

We had a karate seminar this weekend. Friday night and all day Saturday. We had been looking forward to it for months. Does it ever fail that several other things were going on this weekend that we wanted to do. We had to turn them down. We were bummed but there was no way we weren't going to this seminar.

Late last week Baseball Boys' religious school teacher sends out an email saying they will be studying Shavuot this Sunday and they will have a little party to go along with it and could every one send in something. Fruit, vegi's, milk, paper plates, the list was pretty typical. Also on the list was a cake shaped like the Ten Commandment Tablets or a Torah. Shavuot celebrates Moses bringing of the Ten Commandments down from Mt. Sinai. So I have this crazy busy weekend with the seminar. It starts Friday from 5PM to 11PM and resumes on Saturday from 9AM to 5PM. Some pretty great stuff was covered. It was mentally and physically exhausting. So you would think that since I had so much going on I would pick something like the paper plates or milk to bring in. Stuff I usually have around the house so I wouldn't even have to make an extra stop somewhere to get it. Oh and I forgot to mention I still have to work Saturday night. I'm going in a few hours late but it's an all-nighter. In case you haven't figured it out yet I said I'd bring the cake. Why would I do that? I don't have time to bake a cake and make it look like the Ten Commandment Tablets or the Torah. I usually cook/bake from scratch. It's healthier, cheaper and it tastes better, a great combination. So anyway, come Thursday night I panic when I realize I have to make this cake for 8 AM Sunday morning.

So Friday we spend the whole day at a science program at a local library (it wasn't worth the time or money, it sucked). On the way home I stop at a local grocery store to pick up cake mix and fake frosting. I just can't deal with anything more than that. Guess what? I left my purse at home and have no way to pay for it. So I just went home dejected and frustrated with myself.

We get home and get ready for the seminar. Afterward, everyone is invited by our karate instructors to a local Italian Restaurant for a spaghetti dinner. By the time we get home it's almost midnight and we are beat. Up early on Saturday and back to the karate studio. I have one hour after I drop off The Engineer and the kids to get my hiney to a grocery store and redo my trip from the day before only this time with money.

We're at the studio all day. As soon as it's over I rush home. Instead of taking an hour nap and a shower before I go to work like a sensible person would do, I bake two 13"x9" cakes, one chocolate and one butter cake. I wash my face, brush my teeth, brush my hair and pull it up into a pony tail, swallow three ibuprofen, throw my uniform on and I'm out the door.
'
While driving to work I pray to the EMS gods for a peaceful night. My prayers are answered and my partner makes sure I am up and functioning when we log off at 6AM. On the way home I stop and get some chocolate liquorice and a bag of M&M's for back up in case I can't get the liquorice to form Hebrew letters.

I'm feeling good. I have one hour to frost and decorate this cake. I take my two cakes and set them next to each other and cut the tops to give each one an arch. I frost away and use the liquorice to outline the two tablets. I slice the liquorice in half lengthwise (they were pretty thick pieces) and cut them up to make the first six letters of the Hebrew alef-bet. We laid out the sections to form the letters. It was fun even if The Engineer was standing next to me the whole time watching the clock.

I ran over my time limit by 10 minutes, of course. Maybe one day I'll finish something on time. Today is not that day. Off they go to religious school. I sit down on the sofa and immediately fall asleep.

Baseball Boy comes home with an empty cake plate and a dirty knife. The cake was a hit. The kids loved the letters and apparently the cake itself passed muster too. There was only a small piece left and one of the kids took it home.

So at least it was a success. Wonder what I'll do to myself next?

Not a decent photo to be found....

Taking pictures of the kids and dogs is something I have always loved doing. Since we invested in a nice digital camera it's even better. No one would ever mistake me for being a photographer but at least I could get my subjects in the photo most of the time. Even if more than a few times there were trees growing out of their heads. As a photographer friend pointed out to me on more than on occasion.

It's a bummer to have a dog that is terrified of the camera but I still manage to sneak a few photos of her when she's not paying attention. I'd love to get some close ups but all pictures of her have to be stealth so that's not an option. When I'm done explaining you'll know why a telephoto lens isn't an option for me.

When the kids were younger it was a pain in the butt to get a picture with all three of them looking sensible. Someone was always making a face or poking someone or just not interested in getting their picture taken. I have one picture of our entire family that looks great but I had to put The Vet in her spot and give her the Evil Mommy Eye to get her to stay just the few moments till the picture could be snapped. It's the last family picture I have that is decent.

You would think as they got older and more accustomed to following directions it would become easier. Well, as anyone with kids knows solving one set of issues just opens up and makes room for newer, more involved issues to emerge.

So I think I've finally hit the golden age of photography. They are old enough to follow directions but not too old to think they look "too terrible" for the pictures to be taken.

But as usual there is a kink in the plan. And it's all about me. I have essential tremors. Essential tremors are due to abnormal communication between certain areas of the brain, including the cerebellum, thalamus and brain stem. There are three types, one is hereditary (the most common), one is neurological issue and one is related to Parkinson's. I have the hereditary type. My father had it and I drew the short straw in our family and now it's mine. I've been symptomatic since I was a kid. Some people don't show symptoms until their older, not me, short straw again.

For years I have been able to control the tremors. They are really only obvious when I'm overtired, very hungry or under a lot of stress. I also got a little bonus with my right hand which jerks every now and then. It's a little embarrassing when it happens especially if I'm holding a drink. Sometimes if I'm holding something it drops out of my hand, it's annoying but it rarely interferes with my day to day life. The Engineer finally got used to me dropping silverware unexpectedly. It used to make him jump, now he barely notices.

It can affect your hands/arms, your legs and your head and voice. Until recently I only had tremors in my hands/arms. Recently my legs have been giving me problems. If I am sitting for a long period they start to ache. Probably because they are forced to stay still when I'm sitting and the muscles get tired (they still move even if the legs are forced to remain still). I'm lucky that so far my head and voice do not seem to be affected. If I am tired it is hard for me to write. And I only use coffee mugs and heavy glasses to drink from. I can't hold a paper cup or light weight cup still anymore. Today I was at a friends house and was drinking a cup of tea from a mug. I had my spoon in it. The spoon kept clinking against the side of the cup. I guess my hands were shaking even though I couldn't really see it.

One of the biggest problems that has recently started is my inability to hold the camera still enough to take a clear picture. Our camera even has image stabilization and I no longer can take a clear picture on some days. Telephoto lens? Forget it, I haven't been able to keep still enough to take a clear picture with one of those for years.

Over the years I've developed coping mechanisms to help control the tremors and lead a pretty normal life. Most people don't even know I have them unless they are around me when my blood sugar drops or I am very tired. Sometimes I forget about them, because these habits have become so second nature.

So now I see my handwriting getting worse. I used to be able to write a decent amount before my writing deteriorated. Now after a few sentences it's starts to show. I've switched almost completely over to printing since I can last longer that way. Fortunately typing is still pretty easy for me, as long as I'm not over tired.

I'm going to be looking for a lightweight, portable easy to use tripod for my camera. It isn't the perfect solution but it's better than nothing. I may never get another picture of Malka again. If the evil black box grows legs she is not going to hang around to find out what happens next.

So far it looks like The Scientist may have drawn the short straw. There is a 50/50 chance of it showing up in the other two but so far I don't see any signs.

I guess it's time to start researching ways to control them beyond what I've been doing all these years.

How the heck did a full time working Mom wind up being a homeschooling SAHM? Part 1- Workaholic?

Hello, my name is Rusty's Mom and I'm a workaholic. I could picture myself standing in front of a group of others saying those words. Now is it denial or reality when I say, not really? I enjoyed my job but I also enjoyed my home time and looked forward to spending time with my husband and children. I mostly enjoyed making my own money, having the security. What if The Engineer died suddenly or found some cute hottie and I was left to raise three young children alone? Even BK (before kids) work was a huge part of my identity. I was a 911 dispatcher and had been for 21 years and worked at the vet's office too. I never hesitated to take home the on-call pager to pick up a little overtime either.

Helping people and animals and making decent money doing it. A great husband and three cool kids. The best dog ever. My life was sweet. Exhausting but sweet.

Because I worked 12 hour days the kids were only in day care two days one week and three days the next. It felt like a perfect balance between work and home. It also gave The Engineer full time parenting days because I worked every other weekend.

So what happened to change all this? Actually, it was two things. It started back when hubby and I decided to add another two legged kid to our family. That kid turned out to be Baseball Boy. But before conception occured I was bitten by a cat at the vets office. The cat was very ill when it was brought in. A family found it as a stray and wanted to help it. During the exam the cat bit me on the hand, drawing blood. Two days later the cat passed away and because of it's symptoms and subsequent death the vet decided to have it tested for rabies.

Some people say if they didn't have bad luck they'd have no luck at all....

Things are not what they seem

I homeschool but I'm not Christian
I homeschool but we're not unsocialized
I homeschool but we're not home much
I had a midwife and gave birth naturally: in a hospital
I bottle fed my kids but used cloth diapers
I homeschool and my kids are vaccinated
I don't think fluoride is an evil plot
I'm an overweight middle aged white woman: with pit bulls for pets
I'm an overweight middle aged white woman who will kick your butt if you try to hurt my family
Most of the meals we eat are home cooked with no processed food.
I'll feed my kids fast food without guilt
I live in suburbia but have chickens in my yard
I'm a feminist who is a SAHM
I'm a feminist who would die before I gave up my bra
I'm a liberal who thinks people should be responsible for themselves and their actions
I'm registered Democrat but believe government is way to big
I rarely cry except at the end of sad movies
I'm Jewish and love bacon and lobster
I'm not vain but I dye my hair

If I think of more I'll let you know. What's yours?

Facebook comment.....

I have an account on Facebook but I rarely post. At first it seemed interesting but once I got it I realized it was stupid. I'm just going to put my comment here.

Rustys Mom is: sitting here feeling sorry for herself because she broke her toe at karate tonight.

Anything for a buck

When I was 17 years old I joined the local fire company. Over the years I fought many a fire, responded to countless accident scenes and even did my share of public relation programs.

Many times the local newspaper would report on what ever had been going on. Sometimes it was spectacular. Like the time a lumber warehouse burned. The wood and paneling stacked inside burned for days. When we arrived on scene flames were 30 feet in the air. It made good news with great pictures. No need to embellish with that one. As you would expect not every call made for such good copy.

I read the newspaper every day. I don't watch TV news, I'm not interested in traffic accidents, shootings and other mayhem. There are so many things going on that are important, but that doesn't make ratings. Fear mongering does though and TV and newspapers thrive on it. But that's another post. Cable news is worse than Congress when it comes to predilection.

The newspaper isn't much better. There were so many times that I would be at a scene with the fire department, or even later as a 911 dispatcher and I'd read about it in the paper the next day and wonder if we were talking about the same incident. The outline was the same but the devil is in the details and apparently when they couldn't get the facts they'd construct their own version of what may or may not have happened. They also don't have a problem leaving out details that make the story less exciting. Apparently, embellishing details doesn't keep anyone up at night either.

As a pit bull owner I'm affected by this bias more than most. Pit Bulls don't get to make an ass of themselves in public the way other breeds can. They aren't alone in this, German Shepard Dogs, Rottweilers, Doberman Pinchers, Chow Chows and Akitas also have to be twice as good as their brothers the Lab's and Poodles. Pit Bulls are a lot of dog. They are intelligent, strong, tenacious and have a mind of their own. The key to training one is to make it think it wants to do something then reward it for doing it. They are not for everybody. But they are a wonderful, loving, faithful dog. As a general rule they make lousy guard dogs, other than the intimidation factor. Most dogs will protect their owner if the need arises even without protection training, it's instinctual to protect a pack member. So when I read a story of a middle aged woman who was killed by a pit bull recently and how the police had to shoot it to get it to stop I wondered what details were left out of that one. It took a little research but this is what I found. The woman killed was a drug addict who had gone to her mothers house to get money. The mother had previously cut off contact with her daughter and when she showed up at her house an altercation occurred. The dog came to the defense of it's owner and attacked the daughter. Police, who had already been called, arrived on scene and shot and killed the dog. They then shot another dog who came to the defense of the first dog. I can't say that the same thing wouldn't of occurred if it was a different breed. The police aren't going to take statements while a dog is attacking someone. There is a percentage of people who own these types of dogs for the macho factor. Contrary to popular belief the majority of Pit Bull owners do not fit the stereotype. I also have no way of knowing what this family was like and the news doesn't want to go there because that might shine a different light on a breed they love to vilify. They also quoted as "fact" that the dog had the woman by the throat when the police arrived. This is exactly the type of "fact" that I used to find scattered throughout calls I was involved in. Of course this is exactly the type of "fact" that is picked up (or made up) listening to spectators comment on what they think happened.

So a tragedy happened. A woman is dead. Another woman has lost her daughter, first to drugs then when her dogs were protecting her and she lost two of her dogs. And The American Pit Bull Terrier suffers another blow to it's already ravaged reputation. There were no winners, except the media who had another story to sensationalize to boost ratings and sell papers.

Nobody's fault but my own..

Last night I left my cell phone at the vet's office. I've done it before and it's not a big deal because I don't live and die by my cell phone. Really, only people who need it to earn a living should be able to say that.

If you remember I am more of an old fashioned girl so this normally isn't a problem. Normally, now that's an interesting word. Since nothing is normal anymore.

Since I've been cookie mom I've added a whole list of new phone numbers to my cell phone. None of which I put in my good old fashioned phone book. Now today I am supposed to have a phone conference (doesn't that sound official, don't be impressed) with the other cookie mom about our next reorder, an important one since we are winding down cookie sales. Only one problem, we only have each other's cell phone numbers and we both have unlisted home numbers. The girls also have a chocolate party (Happy Valentines Day!) they are going to this afternoon and I don't have the phone number for the home they will be at anywhere but in my cell phone. Yep, you're right it's at the house of one of the girlscouts.

So I'm going to head to the vet's office to get my phone and when I come home I'm going to write all the new numbers in my good old fashioned phone book.

Busted :-(

So last night I'm on my way to work. I'm not running late for a change but I'm cruising down the expressway anyway. Okay, really cruising, like easily 80 mph cruising. I confess, I am a closet speed demon. I love to drive fast. I'm comfortable at 80 mph, doesn't even feel like I'm going that fast.

When I have the kids or the fur kids in the car I drive at the speed limit. If I creep up above it Baseball Boy feels free to inform me of the violation.

So I'm rounding a curve and there it is, cleverly hidden, a State Police cruiser and I'm staring down the barrel of a radar gun. I glance down at the speedometer but it's just habit, I know I'm well over the limit. Reflex causes me to hit the brakes but really what's the point, I'm past the point of no return. I watch in my rear view mirror as I round another curve and I see the car start to pull out, damn.

I slow down to 70 mph, can't be a hypocrite and actually go to the speed limit can I? I see him off in the distance he's behind a bunch of traffic. He flips his lights on and they scatter like mice. There's no one between the pack and me. I move over to the right lane in anticipation, he comes up behind me and flashes his lights a few times. I pull right over.

My habit has gotten me pulled over a few times in my life. It's been a while though, so long in fact this is the first time since I've added new magnets to the back of my van. Magnets like "I Love My Pit Bull", "Ask Me About Pit Bulls" and my favorite, "When it comes to Pit Bulls the Beast is often at the other end of the leash". Maybe my magnets are making him nervous because it's sure taking him a long time to get out of his car. I see him back there on the radio, I'm sure his dispatcher has a full description of my vehicle and is checking my information for any sort of nefarious deed. He finally gets out of his car and walks very cautiously to the back and looks in then I see him release his gun from the holster and his hand is firmly attached to the grip. I can see his face clearly and he is uptight, jeez am I wanted for something I don't know about. But I'm saddened and slightly amused to know that it's probably because of my magnets that he is so cautious. Hey, I'd rather have cops safe than sorry so I'm not offended in any way. So he finally works his way up to just before my window, he leans forward and glances in the van. I smile and hit the button to roll down my window, I'm careful to put my hands back on the steering wheel. As soon as the window is down I say, "Don't worry about the pit bulls, they're just my pets and they're home, probably sleeping on the couch." His face visibly relaxes. I'm not sure if it's because there are no dogs in the car or because he's face to face with a pudgy, middle aged, suburban house wife. I offer him my license, registration and insurance card and tell him I know I was speeding. He asks me where I'm going. I tell him work and he tells me to have a nice night and be careful. I tell him the same and he walks back to his car. I drive away and before I know it I'm back up to 80 mph. I should be ashamed of myself, but I'm not.

I feel like I have ADHD

The last month has been a tough one around here. Everyone has been sick. The Vet got hurt. Money was very tight over the holidays and still is. I was out of work for a month. The house is a mess and I have no great driven desire to clean it up. This makes The Engineer crazy. He was raised in a house that was spotless. I was raised in a house that was a mess, not a pigsty, but definitely messy and dust was only wiped away when it was thick enough for pictures. Therefore it is easy for me to ignore the mess, not so for The Engineer. I see it in his face when he walks in the door after work and looks hopefully into the family room. Only to be disappointed day after day. I love when the house is neat and clean. It makes me happy and it makes The Engineer happy. So why is it that the house is a mess day after day, you ask? Well that is a great question. I've been asking myself that too. I could use all the usual excuses, they sound good too. I'm homeschooling three kids at three different grade levels. I have a kid who's knee is messed up and she can't walk. I have another who keeps spiking a 104 degree fever. I have one healthy kid who is overwhelmed trying to keep up with his chores and his sisters, even with my help. Some of these include caring for 2 dogs, 1 cat, a guinea pig, and the chickens. The yard is a mess and every time you go out your shoes are muddy. I had hoped for a snow pack by now but no such luck. The dogs have to be walked to go to the bathroom because there is so much mud. And for icing on the cake there's this little Cookie Mom thing.

But you know what? Those are not the reasons. The real reason is I can't seem to pay attention to anything for more than two minutes lately. The Engineer did all the laundry last weekend. The only problem is he hates putting it away. So there are baskets of clean/folded laundry all over the place. I should be grateful but it's just another thing distracting me. I walk by something and want to take care of it but I'm distracted by something else I see that needs to be done. The computer whispers to me to come play, and I give in. Or my book sends me a message that I haven't spent as much time as usual reading so I pick it up. It's just me hiding so I don't have to face the mess.

It's not just in the house though. Last night I didn't go to karate because I didn't feel like getting up. What's that all about? I love karate so why all of a sudden I don't feel like going. Tonight I went and was so distracted I had a hard time paying attention. Not me at all.

Another thing is I like to make dinner. I hate to figure out what to have for dinner so I make a list every two weeks and shop for the list then each night I just have to look at the list to see what to make. No stress, no brainer. Well for the last month not only have I not had a dinner menu list, any shopping I've done has been willy nilly so I have to figure out what to make with what we have on hand.

I've been like this since I was sick. My brain feels like a fog has moved in. Even at work my partner has asked me if I'm all right. I'm just not myself. I have all these things running through my head and I can't seem to stop it and just pick something to get started. Every time I want to do something I come up with a story I tell myself and the next thing I know the day has gone by and nothing gets done.

I need to make it stop but I don't know how. Then The Engineer comes home and tells me how upset he has been about the earthquake in Haiti. Then I feel even more pathetic because I have avoided as much of the news about that as I can. I don't think I can handle one more thing bringing me down. Then I feel guilty for feeling crappy about this bullshit stuff when people in Haiti are suffering with real problems. Bet they'd love to have a messy house to come home to and a fridge full of stuff to stare at while trying to figure out what to make for dinner. And a kid who's biggest problem is stitches and another with a fever, both of which have been treated in a timely manner by top notch medical personnel and both have medicine readily available. Money tight, ha, they're so poor they'd laugh at me for even thinking that.

I'm not liking myself very much right now.