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October 2009
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December 2009

Temptation is everywhere

It's that time of year again - the time when every woman I know (and quite a few men) looks at their jeans and thinks "Oh please God, just let 'em fit through Christmas!"   Next week, of course, is Thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving is a wonderful holiday, and a great time for us all to remember to count our blessings and give thanks for all we have.  The problem is that counting blessings and giving thanks don't exactly qualify as calorie-burning activities.  Sad but true.    Perhaps if we had to do a few laps around the dining room table for each blessing we can think up....of course, all that running on such a full stomach would make me mighty unhappy, which would tend to negate the whole "think of your blessings" thing.  It's hard to think "blessing" when your body is screaming "You idiot, what do you think you're doing?"

We all seem to make it past Thanksgiving with our appetites intact, one way or another.  However, the day after Thanksgiving plunges us headlong into that most deadly of yearly activities - Christmas baking.   You heard me.   You just have to make Grandma's pumpkin bread and Aunt Martha's fudge and ohmygosh, did you see that recipe for maple cookies with thousand-calorie cream filling?  Gotta make THOSE!   Even I succumb to the call of the kitchen at this time of year, and I don't like to cook! 

Now, there's always the option of being stubbornly independent and refusing to bake.  I've tried it in the past.  The problem there is that everybody knows somebody who just loves to bake, and considers it their personal obligation to shower you with holiday baked goods.    In fact, if you let it be known that you don't enjoy baking, some folks will take that as a challenge.  You could find yourself becoming some rabid baker's own little mission field; not only will you get the baked goods, you'll find recipes taped to your door or waiting in your e-mail.  They'll invite you over for a baking day - "Come on, it's more fun if you bake with a friend!"   I guess trashing your kitchen is more fun with two?

So I have, as I said, succumbed to the holiday madness.  If I'm totally honest, I don't mind baking so much.  I mean, hey, there's sugar involved, right?  Can't be all bad!  It is possible - only possible, mind - that I even (sort of) enjoy it, but I'll deny it if anyone brings it up in public.    And I suppose that I could spend a little time on the treadmill to help offset those sugar cookies, instead of just griping about getting fat.  Maybe I could even count some blessings while I walk 'em off.   What do you think?


Maybe, maybe....

I find myself today in a situation that is virtually unprecedented in my life experience:  my house is reasonably tidy (by my definition), everyone in the family is happy and healthy, there are no major projects looming, and I don't have to leave the house for a darn thing. 

I don't know what to do. 

Honestly, this is such a rare occurrence for me that I'm completely unprepared.  Usually if the house is good, that means people are coming over.  (Yes, I am one of "those" housekeepers.)  Well, a couple of the boys' friends are here, but really, how much Martha Stewart do I need to dish out for 13- and 15-year-old boys?    (Answer: very little, as long as it's edible.)   Jon and the kids are all feeling pretty good today, which is very nice.   I actually do not have a headache in any form and my fibro is being pretty quiet today, which is beyond nice. 

Jon and the kids have been outside most of the morning working on some minor projects, but nothing that's vital to our continued existence.   It appears that Jon has everything he needs for said projects, which is also unheard of in our family.  The weather is beautiful today - more like late September than early November - so I actually have a couple windows open.    I picked up some groceries last night, we have dog food and cat food, and our toilet paper supply is more than adequate, which means that I have absolutely no reason to go anywhere today. 

Maybe.....maybe I could curl up with that book I brought home from the library last week.  Or maybe I could knit on that scarf that I thought would be done in a couple days and has instead been on the needles for two weeks.    I could go downstairs and do some beadwork.  Or maybe  I could spend some time at my torch before I completely forget how it works. 

Maybe  - just maybe, mind you - I could relax.   Just me, here in my house, with no agenda, no schedule, nothing pulling at me for my attention or energy.   I could sit here and watch the willow tree by the pond swaying in the wind.  I could stretch out in the pool of sunlight on the living room floor and take a little snooze.   I could dream a little.   Maybe I could just enjoy today.  

Aaahhhhh......


Just plain done with it

  Warning: whine-heavy post.  If you aren't in the mood, feel free to move along.

  Do you ever just get fed up with life?   Not to the extreme (although I've been there too, but that's another story) - just done,  sick and tired of slogging through the muck of daily life, ready to take a break from all the petty annoyances that seem to fill the day.  That would be me right now.  October was just a long string of frustrations and disappointments, liberally sprinkled with colds, fibromyalgia pain and one heaping dose of heart-wrenching panic.  

    I think I mentioned that we were taking care of my friends' small children.  Sweet kids, but exhausting when you're not in that phase of life anymore.  Plus one of the twins brought home a lovely head cold (which he graciously shared with me and two of my kids),  and on the last day we had them the other twin decided to throw up.  Three (3) times in 45 minutes.   Yeah.    As much as I love them, I was very glad to see their parents. 

    The next week was pretty much a wash as far as getting anything done.  Faith, Seth and I were all totally miserable with colds/bronchitis.  My fibromyalgia had decided that my body wasn't supposed to take care of little kids any more and was punishing me for trying;  of course getting a cold just ramped things up even more.  I probably would have wanted to die, but that would've taken waaaaaaaaaay too much energy.....so I just sat there, a big old lump of miserable.  

There were a few other issues in there too - a job that didn't work out the way I'd hoped, a burned-out ignition thingy (yes, it's a technical term) on our less-than-a-year-old boiler, etc., etc., - but my precious husband put the frosting on the cake, if you know what I mean.   Last Thursday morning I got a call from Jon's workplace.  When I answered the phone a pleasant female voice said "Hi, this is _____ from Bosch, and I have Jon here with me.  Now, he says not to freak out, but - "   Don't freak out?!?  What, are you crazy?  That's international wife-code for "something BAD is happening but hubby doesn't want you to wig out and embarrass him in front of his coworkers".  So I listened as the nice lady told me that Jon was having some problems with his heart rhythm and pulse rate, and that the EMS was there preparing to take him to the emergency room.  I thanked her politely, hung up and FREAKED OUT!!    hahahah   Okay, I wept a bit and then got ready and drove to the hospital (which was a freaking HOUR away, thankyouverymuch!). 

Once I got there I found out that Jon's heart had gone bonkers - completely out of rhythm, pulse rate far too high, etc.  The medical terminology was "atrial fibrillation", I believe.   After some initial tests and administering some medication to slow his heart a bit, thin his blood and so forth, he was transferred to our local hospital and admitted.  Thankfully, by Thursday evening his heart went back to its proper rhythm and his pulse rate slowed and steadied.  Friday he had some more tests and was finally released, with the proviso that he had to have further testing as an outpatient.  He's tired (and we're both slightly paranoid now) but he seems to be doing alright.  Tomorrow he has a stress echocardiogram, and he'll be doing a sleep study in the near future as well.   Hopefully all the tests will give us a specific cause for what happened, so the doctors can come up with a more defined treatment plan.   Until then, he's on some meds to keep his heart rate stable.  

   Soooooooo,  after all that joy and happiness (please note sarcasm here), I'm really more than ready to be done with it all.  Stop the world, I want to get off, blah blah blah.  Of course things could have been much worse, I know that.  But really, don't you just get tired of being  all tough and competent and noble and stuff?  Yeah, yeah, I know nobody suffered loss of life or limb, but doggone it, I'm tired  and I just want to whine a little.  Is that okay?    I've been stressed, my kids and I have been sick, my entire body hurts like heck,  and my husband may have a heart condition.   A relationship I value may be - not what I thought it was.   Oh, and no, my Prozac isn't exactly doing a fabulous job right now (gee, go figure).   Today I am one seriously Grouchy Mom.   Tomorrow will be another day, but for now....well.  For now, I'm done.