Yup. You read that right. I have a bad attitude. I am feeling mean and angry and crabby and all sorts of bad about myself. Like, REALLY bad about myself. I am fat. I hate fat. I weigh 225 pounds. That's one hundred pounds extra. One hundred twenty five pounds that I used to weigh at one proud but not so sane time in my adult life. Hate pretty much sums up the feelings I have about my body right now.
So, I'm trying to change. My morning sugar was 87. That's good. I ate 2 poached eggs over green peas with salt and pepper for breakfast. And, of course, coffee with cream. Yes, cream. Always.
The other day at one of Luken's therapies, the therapist was explaining to me the importance of cross body activities for Luken. Among these are crawling and riding a bike or trike.
Yesterday, during my second hand store rounds looking for pants, mittens and a pair of shoes for Luken, I happened across this toy bike/video game thing. It's called a SmartCycle. It connects to a television and has a little game thing plugged into it. It's intended to increase the activity of the child whilst offering educational games. After consideration of the therapeutic benefits vs. increased screen time, I bought the thing, took it home, and hooked it up.
Luken caught on quickly. He loves the thing! He will spend about 5 minutes at a time pedaling away on it. So ya, it has some therapeutic value. Plus, he's learning his ABC's.
Still, I feel kinda bad promoting more screen time for my toddler. And gaming. Sheesh . . .
It is what it is, I guess. A mixed bag. Kinda like the rest of life.
First he got too cold. His fur isn't very thick. When I let him inside after his breakfast, he was shivering and so I let him bundle with us on the couch. His feet and ears next to me were cold enough to feel through my blanket. Poor Fizz.
I decided to give him a treat to help cheer him up. I have him the last coupla bites of Luken's blueberry pancake with peanut butter on it. The peanut butter glued itself to the top of Fizz's mouth. What ensued was a frenzy of jerking, head flinging, slobber slinging and terrified licking. I took pity and scraped the pancake/peanut butter off the top of his mouth. I swear, I didn't mean to terrorize him.
A little while later, I heard Fizz wrestling with our other young dog, Belle. Crash, bang, boom! Then all was quiet. In this house, during the day, quiet usually isn't a good sign. I went looking. At the bottom of the basement stairs, stood Fizz. He was all hunched up, his tail tucked between his legs, a small pool of blood growing beneath him. Something was wrong. Now, I didn't know this, but evidently when male dogs get, uh, excited, their penis engorges and comes completely out of the sheath. I mean COMPLETELY out, even the swollen glans were out. That was shocking to see. And the blood . . . What on earth?
I hollered for Kara and gathered Fizz up and ran him to the vet. By the time we got to the vet, his "excitement" had subsided. The vet patiently explained to me that yes, when dogs are erect, the entire penis and glans comes out of the sheath. Still though, the blood was worrisome. So the vet examined him further. She found that poor Fizz had at least 2 puncture wounds on his penis about halfway from the tip to the glans. Oh, poor Fizz!
We were sent home with Fizz in a lamp shade collar, antibiotics, anti-inflammatory meds, and absolutely no dignity. Fizz spent the rest of the morning moping, trying to lick and crashing into things as he bumbled through the house in his lampshade.
Lesson of the day? Oh, take your pick. Beware the peanut butter. Wear a warm coat when it's cold outside. Keep it in your pants, or, uh, sheath. If you wave it around, somebody's gonna get hurt.
Luken's Child Development Center eval was today. It was a psych eval. 1. I know the man who did the eval. I think he's a mediocre fiddle player. I don't put much stake in his professional opinion. 2. This doctor spent 7 whole minutes playing and interacting with Luken before instructing me to play with him. 3. The toys we were given to play with were unfamiliar to Luken (a pink plastic baby changing station and bath tub with 2 naked baby dolls and various accoutrements). No cars or animals or things to climb or appropriately throw. 4. After less that 10 minutes of me playing with Luken, being observed by this doctor, he took me to his office to talk. 5. After an hour, he sent me back to play with Luken while he and his colleague discussed their "findings". 12 more minutes. 6. Then I am taken back to his office to hear the "findings".
These "findings? Luken is not autistic. Good! Luken is smart. Yes! I agree. Luken is creative. Yup. Luken takes pleasure in pushing my buttons. Sometimes. Luken is able to act appropriately in other settings. Sometimes. Therefore, it's a parenting issue. Fucker!
Don't get me wrong. I am relieved that the doctor didn't see any blaring problems with my child. Sort of. I see issues. Other people see issues. I know I'm not the only person who things there's something going on with this boy. Today's doctor suggested that it was all my problem. It's not. Yes, there is room for improvement. Lots. AND something is going on with him.
starting at midnight because that's when this calendar date started
sleep peacefully. wake to screaming child. rush in to see what's the matter with screaming child. find out that child is screaming in pain - "owie legs, mommy." give child tylenol. rub child's legs until child falls back asleep. wake up with a start at about 2 realizing that i'm not in bed. look around and realize that i'm in child's room with child sleeping fitfully in my lap on the floor next to his bed. put child into his bed. wrap up in blanket next to child's bed and fall asleep. wake up around 4 to pee. go to own bed and fall asleep. wake at 5 when wife gets up. mutter unintelligible phrases. go back to sleep.
wake at 7 when child wakes. pour coffee. forget to drink coffee. fix child breakfast. clean up breakfast that child flings across the room because "it's not good". plop child in front of tv. shower. dress self. dress child. brush teeth. make an attempt at brushing child's teeth and give up. not worth all the screaming. find jacket that fits child. find both of the same pair of child's shoes. wiggle child's feet into socks and shoes. go outside to start the car. come in. feed dogs. put child's coat on. find wallet. find cell phone. put child's socks, shoes and coat on again. look for car keys and realize that they're already in the car. coax child out the door and to the car. buckle child into car seat. buckle myself into car. look for car keys to start the car. oh, right, car is already running. look both ways and back out of driveway. drive to stevi and deposit child at "school".
drive to missoula. find dr's office. wait in line. check in. wait in waiting room. talk to a coupla guys about the failed fire levy. look out the window at the smoggy missoula sky. follow nurse back to exam room. listen and nod. undress. put on figure flattering open back gown. wait. wait. wait some more. greet doctor. talk about moles. have mole removed. dress. find waiting room and exit through maze of beige hallways and closed doors. return to car.
drive to petsmart. get distracted along the way and go into second hand store. pick out a few things for my child. finish driving to petsmart. load cart full of dog food. follow terrified meow-ing and find terrified cats. they are waiting for their forever homes. feel sad. wait in line at checkout. pay way too much for 3 bags of dog food and 3 dog toys (christmas). call sweetie to see if i need to stop anywhere else in town.
drive to liquor store. browse. find expensive irish whiskey. choose less expensive whiskey. look around some more. pay. get into car and remember that i forgot to eat breakfast. dig around in car and find a bag of trail mix. eat trail mix.
drive south, past home, to child's "school". extricate child from block area. find both child's shoes and jacket. cram child's feet into his shoes. give up on the jacket. sign child out of "school". buckle child and self into car. drive home.
put child down for nap. make myself lunch. eat lunch! check email. climb into bed for nap. snuggle with cat until she gets up to eat. watch cat eat. watch cat vomit. roll over. listen to cat eat. listen to cat vomit. get up. clean up vomit. twice. watch cat eat. watch cat vomit. again. clean up vomit. again. call vet and make appointment for later today. send harassing texts to wife. laugh at the texts she sends back. send more harassing texts. pour diet pepsi. forget to drink it.
screw around on facebook until child gets up from nap around 1430. change child's diaper. play with child. answer phone. send more texts to wife. do "educational" activities with child on the computer. get cat ready for the vet.
load self and cat into the car. drive to friend's house to turn off her stove. take cat to vet. wait. talk about funny things dogs do. take cat into exam room. rub kitty's head when she gets a shot to stop the vomiting. talk to vet. decide to "give it until monday" and re-assess next week. get medication to give cat at home. pay. load cat and self into the car. drive home. again.
take cat into the house. look at the mess that i call a kitchen. turn around and walk out. it's too much. sit on couch and open computer. blog. chat with wife and child. discuss the weather. my child has icy cold hands from being outside. talk about my dr. appointment. talk about wife's dr. appointment. talk cat's dr. appointment. talk about dog's poop. roll eyes.
hear sirens. check pager. get boots on. find keys. tell spouse i'm going on a call. drive to fire hall. pull on bunker gear. haul fat ass into big red truck. hang on while joe drives like hell. laugh at crazy radio traffic. follow a parade of fire trucks who make a wrong turn. turn around with a parade of fire trucks. laugh at the parade. find the scene. check in. wander around trying to look useful. get cancelled (probably because we looked so good). wander back to big red truck. help turn truck around. ride back to florence. climb around on truck while fueling. pub flopping hose away (no, it's not that). tease joe as he backs big red truck into fire hall. climb out. peel off turn outs. talk with folks there about all sorts of very rude crap.
attend fire association meeting. laugh at inappropriate times. learn some touchy news. share my opinion too freely. find a chocolate stash and help myself. yummy. wander around fire hall trying to feel useful. decide to go home.
drive home. it's freezing outside. get home. wade through three wagging dogs. check in with sleepy wife. get something to eat. watch tv while i eat. be lap for sick cat. blog. think about day.
I haven't been feeling up to par lately. I'm tired as hell and only marginally functional. I manage to get Luken to his appointments but have fallen behind on things such as meal planning/cooking and laundry. I feel like shit.
So, with Kara's urging, I went to my doctor. He thinks I have Mycoplasma Pneumonia. Thing is, it's not in my lungs, it's in my throat. Several weeks ago, my household got sick. Both Kara and Luken were given z-pack and they got better pretty quickly. I got sick but didn't bet much more than blah ugh sick so I never went in. Doc thinks that I got the bacteria at that time and it's just dug in really hard. So, while I'm not happy in the least about feeling like crap, it is good to know that there's a reason.
Our house has a guest room. It's downstairs. It's quiet, warm and dark. I crawled into bed in that room yesterday afternoon and fell asleep. I slept until this morning. Again today I went down there and went to bed. I slept until evening. I want to go back and spend the night down there. It's like time stops when I'm sleeping there. Life stops. Not like when I'm sleeping in my bed upstairs. When I'm sleeping in my bed, I hear Kara snoring. I hear Luken whimper. I hear the dogs sleeping. I feel the cats crawling over me. I hear the truck that delivers the morning paper drive down my street. I hear the neighbor come home and leave again in the middle of the night. When I wake up after sleeping in my bed, I feel like I'm coming from the grey into the day. When I wake from sleeping downstairs though, I feel like I come through the void, through the silence into wakefulness. Sleeping in the dark warm quiet has an addictive quality about it. I NEED it! I MUST have more of it! If you can't find me upstairs, look in the guest room. It will be warm and dark and quiet and I will be there. Sleeping. Truly deeply sleeping as I haven't slept in years.
Today I am grateful for my smiling little boy. He woke up last night at about 1130 because he was hungry. I gave him some yogurt and we hung out for awhile in the dark. He is such a sweet soul. And funny too! I am so glad he chose us to be his parents. He has changed my life in so many ways. I never knew my heart could feel so full of love for someone as it does for him. Luken is a precious gift and I look forward to each day with him.
It's dark outside. And snowing. It's the end of the day. The end of the week. And the curtain comes down. I am deep dark depressed. I have a migraine and I've taken meds for it. I want to curl up in a warm soft dark place and be rocked. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. I want someone to rub my back and shoulders. I want to sink into that place where nothing else really matters. Just breathing in. And breathing out. Over and over again. Until the morning comes and the sun brings pink to the sky and my coffee pot crackles to life. Coaxing me out of sleep, that sweet dark place, to set my feet on the floor and start again.
Today (and every day) I am thankful for my wife. So often, that goes unsaid. I'm glad that Kara stays with me even though I am not easy to live with. I am grateful for our commitment to each other and to our relationship. Together we face what life gives us, the good, the bad, and the in between. Together we figure it out. Together we raise our son. Together we collapse into bed each night exhausted. Together we face each new day and all the possibilities it brings. Yes, we fight. We butt heads. We disagree. But we learn. And we go on. I'm lucky to have her.
I am SO excited! We're actually going away for the holidays. Turns out, we'll be away from home over Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years! I am so excited!
We'll have Thanksgiving in Bigfork with Kara's family. Then we'll go to Great Falls to see my family over the weekend. That will be crowded and fun.
Then, the part I'm most excited about - Christmas! We're gonna fly to Portland and stay a few days with Larkin and her family before staying a coupla blocks away at the Marriott until the 30th when we fly home. I can hardly wait! Larkin moved to Portland in August and we've really missed her. The little boys will get to have Christmas Eve and Christmas morning together. After Christmas, maybe we'll go to the coast for a day. Maybe we'll go to the zoo or aquarium or well, the possibilities are nearly endless!
On New Year's, we'll go to Kalispell. Luken and I will go to FirstNight! and Kara will party it up with her huge extended family in the annual HagenFest.
When it's all said and done, we'll be ready to hibernate until spring.
I need to slow down. There is so much to be done that I don't have time to slow down. I can choose do engage in slower types of activities. Like knitting. Or reading. Who am I kidding? I HATE to read. Shit I hardly can. Read, that is. So, ya, knitting. Knitting is quiet and methodical. And pretty. Well, the yarn is pretty anyway. Kudos to the gals at Mountain Colors for the beautiful colorways. Anyway, slowing down . . . Slowing down feels panicky to me. Strange, I know. Right now, Luken is in bed and the house is quiet. Kara is out for the evening. I should take the opportunity to purposefully slow down, right? But the kitchen is a mess. I need to clean the floor. The dog needs brushed. And the floor, did I mention the floor? All that crap races around in my head and even if I'm sitting staring mindlessly at the tele, I don't feel relaxed one single bit.
When I sit and ponder, try to slow the thoughts in my head, I feel depressed. I'm not sure what I'd rather be, slow and depressed or racing and panicked. How 'about somewhere in the middle.