I have gestational diabetes.
And I'm not happy about it.
Here's what this means:
I will meet with a dietician in the next week or so to determine what I should and should not be eating in order for my body to process sugars efficiently. Then, she will send me home with a kit and a tracking sheet, as I will have to prick my finger and test my blood before every meal. Every meal. Awesome. I used to look forward to meal time, now I have to inflict pain.
This is not my fault.
I asked the nurse if there was anything I could do to prevent this and she said no. This is not the result of anything I did or could have done differently. This is just my body reacting to how it processes sugar. She said that sometimes the placenta can store more sugar than it needs to, which can lead to this diagnosis.
And, I think my doctor's office (though I very much love and trust them) is being overly cautious. The first result was one point over. They did four blood draws for the second test, and two were high. This tells them that I have GD. But wait--two were high... so then two were low! Shouldn't it be a 'three strikes you're out' rule? I don't get it. And I think it's a lot of worry and stress on my body to go through all this, and that can't be good for the baby either!
But, I'll do what I'm told. I'll endure the next 14 weeks (or however long he stays in there cookin') and will make the best of it. I'm not going to jeopardize his health by NOT listening to the doctors, so here we go.
Hold on tight baby, this road is gonna get bumpy. Mommy might cry. She already has a lot. Daddy might cry (he doesn't do needles or blood). He's being a trooper though and really supporting Momma. In fact, he's making dinner right now and promised to pamper Mommy a little tonight... yes please!
So there you have it. Let's talk about it. Let's keep telling me that this isn't my fault and I couldn't have done anything differently. It is what it is, and I'm going to be strong and get through this for my health and the health of my precious little peanut... who will be fine. And perfect. And wonderful. And here before I know it.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Awaiting the results
The test on Friday went well... until the end. When I got sick. :(
We started at 8am and they drew my blood first, then had me drink the WHOLE bottle of the nasty stuff. Oh man, those first few gulps aren't so bad, but then I held the bottle up and realized I had a LOT more to drink. "I can do this," I said aloud... and chugged.
The timer started for the first hour, and I was doing great. I went to the comfy room that they set John and I up in; I had a huge leather recliner to rest in, John sat in a chair next to me, studying for class on his laptop. I read a little bit in my "What to Expect" book about gestational diabetes, and part of it helped, part of it was hard to read. It confirmed that it's not the worst thing to happen, but then it said that having it could increase the mother's and baby's risk of developing diabetes later on in life. That's exactly what I fear! But, we don't know if I have it yet, so we'll see. (I know, I'm probably being way too dramatic and everything will be fine.)
When the timer had a few minutes left, I went back to the nurse to get poked again, this time in the other arm. Not so bad, set the clock for another hour. Rinse and repeat, right? By the third blood draw (which hurt, cause that arm was already poked once and was very sensitive), my tummy was growling!! I can't remember the last time I went this long without eating--even before I was pregnant!
After the third blood draw, John was thinking about heading into work. But for some reason (partly because I was just enjoying some quiet relaxing time with my hubby), I asked him to stay. And when the timer had 20 minutes left on it, we found out why he was still there. Without much warning (just enough for me to pull my hair into a ponytail, actually) I got sick. Well, not really sick, it was really just dry heaving because there was NOTHING in my stomach!! But I grabbed the trash can and between heaves asked him to get the nurse. He's amazing at taking care of me; he's really stepped up through all this. Two very sweet nurses came in and put cold washcloths on my neck and head (ruining my hair thankyouverymuch!) and laid me back. I didn't really even feel dizzy or nauseous, just weak. Hello!? I haven't eaten since 8:00 the night before, and you're taking blood! Are we done yet?
John helped walk me back to an exam room, where the nuse laid me back for the last draw. It's amazing he came with, the man hates needles!! I usually do great with needles, I just can't watch them go in, but it doesn't bother me too much. But I think she used the same spot as the last one in that arm! I used to give blood regularly and am actually bummed I can't right now, but for good reason. :) Anyway, she gave me apple juice and crackers afterwards which helped, but wasn't enough. I stopped and got lunch on my way into work and pretty much inhaled it.
When I got in the car after saying goodbye to John, I cried. He felt horrible learning this later; he asked, "what could I have done differently? I was there to support you so that it wasn't too terrible to endure, but you were crying?" Well, yes, but the funny thing was, I didn't know why I was crying. I was frustrated that I had gotten sick right at the end, but my body was just reacting. I guess it was reacting too when my hormones took over and I couldn't help but cry. I couldn't help it and I didn't know why!!
It made for a very exhausting day, and I anticipate tomorrow being the same. When the doctor's office calls, it will either be good news or bad news. I mean, I honestly feel that the diagnosis of gestational diabetes is bad news. I know it's not the end of the world, I know some women who have had it and survived and have some amazing kiddos... it's just something I didn't anticipate dealing with, and I hope I don't have to.
So tomorrow is D-day and I'll update once we know the outcome.
We started at 8am and they drew my blood first, then had me drink the WHOLE bottle of the nasty stuff. Oh man, those first few gulps aren't so bad, but then I held the bottle up and realized I had a LOT more to drink.
The timer started for the first hour, and I was doing great. I went to the comfy room that they set John and I up in; I had a huge leather recliner to rest in, John sat in a chair next to me, studying for class on his laptop. I read a little bit in my "What to Expect" book about gestational diabetes, and part of it helped, part of it was hard to read. It confirmed that it's not the worst thing to happen, but then it said that having it could increase the mother's and baby's risk of developing diabetes later on in life. That's exactly what I fear! But, we don't know if I have it yet, so we'll see. (I know, I'm probably being way too dramatic and everything will be fine.)
When the timer had a few minutes left, I went back to the nurse to get poked again, this time in the other arm. Not so bad, set the clock for another hour. Rinse and repeat, right? By the third blood draw (which hurt, cause that arm was already poked once and was very sensitive), my tummy was growling!! I can't remember the last time I went this long without eating--even before I was pregnant!
After the third blood draw, John was thinking about heading into work. But for some reason (partly because I was just enjoying some quiet relaxing time with my hubby), I asked him to stay. And when the timer had 20 minutes left on it, we found out why he was still there. Without much warning (just enough for me to pull my hair into a ponytail, actually) I got sick. Well, not really sick, it was really just dry heaving because there was NOTHING in my stomach!! But I grabbed the trash can and between heaves asked him to get the nurse. He's amazing at taking care of me; he's really stepped up through all this. Two very sweet nurses came in and put cold washcloths on my neck and head (ruining my hair thankyouverymuch!) and laid me back. I didn't really even feel dizzy or nauseous, just weak. Hello!? I haven't eaten since 8:00 the night before, and you're taking blood! Are we done yet?
John helped walk me back to an exam room, where the nuse laid me back for the last draw. It's amazing he came with, the man hates needles!! I usually do great with needles, I just can't watch them go in, but it doesn't bother me too much. But I think she used the same spot as the last one in that arm! I used to give blood regularly and am actually bummed I can't right now, but for good reason. :) Anyway, she gave me apple juice and crackers afterwards which helped, but wasn't enough. I stopped and got lunch on my way into work and pretty much inhaled it.
When I got in the car after saying goodbye to John, I cried. He felt horrible learning this later; he asked, "what could I have done differently? I was there to support you so that it wasn't too terrible to endure, but you were crying?" Well, yes, but the funny thing was, I didn't know why I was crying. I was frustrated that I had gotten sick right at the end, but my body was just reacting. I guess it was reacting too when my hormones took over and I couldn't help but cry. I couldn't help it and I didn't know why!!
It made for a very exhausting day, and I anticipate tomorrow being the same. When the doctor's office calls, it will either be good news or bad news. I mean, I honestly feel that the diagnosis of gestational diabetes is bad news. I know it's not the end of the world, I know some women who have had it and survived and have some amazing kiddos... it's just something I didn't anticipate dealing with, and I hope I don't have to.
So tomorrow is D-day and I'll update once we know the outcome.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Things Women Don't Talk About: Part 3
Note to reader: the title of the post is a means of therapy for me. I've found that unless you have sisters, a mom you can talk to about anything, or close girlfriends, women don't usually talk about all the gross details of being a woman. (Parts 1 & 2 are in draft mode; later topics to come as well.)
GESTATIONAL DIABETES
Last Friday I had my 24-week OB appointment and endured the hour-long drink-the-nasty-crap-and-wait-for-your-blood-to-be-drawn glucose test. It wasn't as bad and I had expected it to be (let's be honest, as other people had warned me it would be). I psyched myself out. But the stuff didn't taste THAT bad, the waiting was fine--although the receptionist did say that I would have my appointment with the doctor during that hour, and she lied--and the blood draw was practically painless. No problem. When I finally met with the doctor, she said they'd have the results on Monday and that no news was good news. Awesome. I've got this. I'm fine.
So today, when the doctor's office number showed up on my phone as a missed call, I was not-so-fine anymore. Uh... you have news? Shoot.
I called back nervously, figuring that they just wanted to settle my fears and tell me that the test results were normal. Wrong again. The nurse explained that they want my blood sugar level to be under 135 and that mine was at 136. One stinking point! One point!! So as a result, I have to go back for a three hour glucose test where I'll drink twice as much of the nasty stuff, then wait three hours during which time they'll draw my blood FOUR times. THOSE results will tell them if I have gestational diabetes.
Before today, I've never known anyone personally who had gestational diabetes (my co-worker, who heard me crying on the phone* came over to talk to me; she went through the same thing two years ago and did have gestational diabetes). And before that, when I did hear about someone else having it, it always sounded so scary and serious. Like bed rest. So my first reaction was fear. I don't know enough about it to understand it, so I'm scared. I thought I had done something to harm my baby, but was told over and over that this isn't my fault. I worried that this meant I gave my baby diabetes. That's devastating to think about, and so not fair to him!! Luckily, also not true.
I pray every day for a healthy baby, so hearing the term "gestational diabetes," I let my mind wander to dark unknown places and blamed myself for this (possible) diagnosis. As it turns outs, the greatest worry for the doctors is that my baby would be born big. My co-worker told me that her doctor warned her of a 9 pound baby, so they induced her a week early. Her son was a beautiful, healthy, 6 lb. 15 oz. boy, perfectly healthy (and absolutely adorable!) Okay, I feel a little better. My sister told me of her friend that also had gestational diabetes, and her 7-month-old daughter is in the 6th percentile for growth now.
So I know what the implications can be if the expectant mother doesn't follow doctor's orders (strict diet, testing your blood, etc.) but it really isn't the end of the world. I have psyched myself out again, but I know that my going back for the second round of testing doesn't necessarily mean I have it. My first result was so low, that it might turn out just fine. Then again, it might turn out that I have it, and the next 15 1/2 weeks will be challenging, but doable. There are some women that deal with much more serious things during their pregnancy. I will be fine.
My problem has always been that I like all the wrong foods (just ask my mother). I also just really like food period, so I've struggled with weight most of my life. In fact, I was worried that I would not handle the pregnancy weight gain well (10 pounds up so far, and about 15 or more to go--yikes!) but I know that there is a greater reason to gain weight, and bikini season (HA!) will just have to wait. Luckily, summer will just about be over by the time I imagine being anywhere near (or wanting) to shove myself into a swimsuit. Phew!! This little guy is already worth every pound though.
So, I called and scheduled the dreaded 3 hour test for Friday morning this week; the nurse said I could do it anytime in the next two weeks, but I didn't want to dwell on it any longer than I had to. I'm just going to go and get it over with. I'll update with the results once I have them.
That being said, if you're a praying woman and you're reading this, please say a prayer for my health--both physical and mental--during this testing. Like I said, I know it isn't probably as serious as I'm making it, but I am taking it seriously and hoping for the best. God is in control. I emailed my mom earlier to say that I know that God is the one making this baby, I just get to keep him warm while he grows and make sure that I'm doing right by him. In the diet category, I think I can do better.
*My number one rule is that I don't cry at work. I broke my own rule today. Fail.
GESTATIONAL DIABETES
Last Friday I had my 24-week OB appointment and endured the hour-long drink-the-nasty-crap-and-wait-for-your-blood-to-be-drawn glucose test. It wasn't as bad and I had expected it to be (let's be honest, as other people had warned me it would be). I psyched myself out. But the stuff didn't taste THAT bad, the waiting was fine--although the receptionist did say that I would have my appointment with the doctor during that hour, and she lied--and the blood draw was practically painless. No problem. When I finally met with the doctor, she said they'd have the results on Monday and that no news was good news. Awesome. I've got this. I'm fine.
So today, when the doctor's office number showed up on my phone as a missed call, I was not-so-fine anymore. Uh... you have news? Shoot.
I called back nervously, figuring that they just wanted to settle my fears and tell me that the test results were normal. Wrong again. The nurse explained that they want my blood sugar level to be under 135 and that mine was at 136. One stinking point! One point!! So as a result, I have to go back for a three hour glucose test where I'll drink twice as much of the nasty stuff, then wait three hours during which time they'll draw my blood FOUR times. THOSE results will tell them if I have gestational diabetes.
Before today, I've never known anyone personally who had gestational diabetes (my co-worker, who heard me crying on the phone* came over to talk to me; she went through the same thing two years ago and did have gestational diabetes). And before that, when I did hear about someone else having it, it always sounded so scary and serious. Like bed rest. So my first reaction was fear. I don't know enough about it to understand it, so I'm scared. I thought I had done something to harm my baby, but was told over and over that this isn't my fault. I worried that this meant I gave my baby diabetes. That's devastating to think about, and so not fair to him!! Luckily, also not true.
I pray every day for a healthy baby, so hearing the term "gestational diabetes," I let my mind wander to dark unknown places and blamed myself for this (possible) diagnosis. As it turns outs, the greatest worry for the doctors is that my baby would be born big. My co-worker told me that her doctor warned her of a 9 pound baby, so they induced her a week early. Her son was a beautiful, healthy, 6 lb. 15 oz. boy, perfectly healthy (and absolutely adorable!) Okay, I feel a little better. My sister told me of her friend that also had gestational diabetes, and her 7-month-old daughter is in the 6th percentile for growth now.
So I know what the implications can be if the expectant mother doesn't follow doctor's orders (strict diet, testing your blood, etc.) but it really isn't the end of the world. I have psyched myself out again, but I know that my going back for the second round of testing doesn't necessarily mean I have it. My first result was so low, that it might turn out just fine. Then again, it might turn out that I have it, and the next 15 1/2 weeks will be challenging, but doable. There are some women that deal with much more serious things during their pregnancy. I will be fine.
My problem has always been that I like all the wrong foods (just ask my mother). I also just really like food period, so I've struggled with weight most of my life. In fact, I was worried that I would not handle the pregnancy weight gain well (10 pounds up so far, and about 15 or more to go--yikes!) but I know that there is a greater reason to gain weight, and bikini season (HA!) will just have to wait. Luckily, summer will just about be over by the time I imagine being anywhere near (or wanting) to shove myself into a swimsuit. Phew!! This little guy is already worth every pound though.
So, I called and scheduled the dreaded 3 hour test for Friday morning this week; the nurse said I could do it anytime in the next two weeks, but I didn't want to dwell on it any longer than I had to. I'm just going to go and get it over with. I'll update with the results once I have them.
That being said, if you're a praying woman and you're reading this, please say a prayer for my health--both physical and mental--during this testing. Like I said, I know it isn't probably as serious as I'm making it, but I am taking it seriously and hoping for the best. God is in control. I emailed my mom earlier to say that I know that God is the one making this baby, I just get to keep him warm while he grows and make sure that I'm doing right by him. In the diet category, I think I can do better.
*My number one rule is that I don't cry at work. I broke my own rule today. Fail.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Our boy's got rhythm!
No wait, just hiccups.
I was never so happy to have my little peanut moving around so wildly a week or so ago that he woke me up, and when I realized the consistent rhythm of his movement (similar to what I had felt the night before), I realized that our boy may not be the next best drummer, instead he had the cutest hiccups this Momma has ever experienced!!
My own hiccups are quite loud and violent (I annoy myself!) but my little guy's are... adorable. :)
Next on the cute list was my dear husband when he felt his son move inside my belly for the first time. I've been trying to have him feel it for weeks, but every time he comes over and puts his hand on my belly, the kid gets stage fright. But yesterday, I woke up to my little acrobat doing quite the routine! So, I quietly reached over, and without a word, put John's hand on my belly. We had been lying in bed awake for awhile but hadn't spoken yet, so when I made this motion, he gave me the sweetest look of anticipation. Suddenly, our baby kicked, John gasped and said aloud, "Well I felt that!"
The smile on his face was sheer joy, and as he climbed over me, he wrapped his arms around my neck and told me that he fell in love with me all over again in this very instant. He pulled back, kissed me, and followed it up with, "and I'm sure glad that's inside you and not me!" THERE'S the man I love!! Haha!
I was never so happy to have my little peanut moving around so wildly a week or so ago that he woke me up, and when I realized the consistent rhythm of his movement (similar to what I had felt the night before), I realized that our boy may not be the next best drummer, instead he had the cutest hiccups this Momma has ever experienced!!
My own hiccups are quite loud and violent (I annoy myself!) but my little guy's are... adorable. :)
Next on the cute list was my dear husband when he felt his son move inside my belly for the first time. I've been trying to have him feel it for weeks, but every time he comes over and puts his hand on my belly, the kid gets stage fright. But yesterday, I woke up to my little acrobat doing quite the routine! So, I quietly reached over, and without a word, put John's hand on my belly. We had been lying in bed awake for awhile but hadn't spoken yet, so when I made this motion, he gave me the sweetest look of anticipation. Suddenly, our baby kicked, John gasped and said aloud, "Well I felt that!"
The smile on his face was sheer joy, and as he climbed over me, he wrapped his arms around my neck and told me that he fell in love with me all over again in this very instant. He pulled back, kissed me, and followed it up with, "and I'm sure glad that's inside you and not me!" THERE'S the man I love!! Haha!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Pucker up, baby!
Last night we celebrated my niece Kenzie's 4th birthday by going out to dinner with her Mom, Grandpa and Grandma. First of all, I can't believe she's already FOUR (we have all told her to stop growing, but she just giggles). Second of all, she is too stinking cute and silly!!!! She is an absolute kick to hang out with and says and does the silliest things.
After dinner, some of the staff came over to sing her the traditional Red Robin Birthday Song:
Amy and I took her to the bathroom to wash up, and while we waited for Amy, Kenzie turned to me and gave my belly a big SMOOCH and said "cute baby!" I've had some pretty great moments during this pregnancy, but that single moment is definitely in my Top 10 so far. I'm not sure I've felt anything sweeter (though I've gotten some very sweet belly rubs) than my 4-year-old niece kissing my belly.
That warmed this Momma's heart.
After dinner, some of the staff came over to sing her the traditional Red Robin Birthday Song:
One! Two! Three! Four!
Happy birthday, have a happy birthday!
Happy birthday, have a happy day!
Do we have a birthday here?
YES we have a birthday here!
Birthday where?
Birthday here!
Ohhhh-ohhhhh-ohhhh-ohh...
Happy birthday, have a happy birthday!
Happy birthday, have a happy day--HEY!!
Kenzie was delighted at the song, the clapping, the attention... but most of all for the ice cream sundae that accompanies the cheer! Who could blame her? And she was just telling us that she still had room for ice cream in her tummy (and even pointed to where). My, I do love that girl.
Well, we couldn't let her celebrate alone... and since she had stirred her sundae to "soup," we ordered a Mile Hi Mud Pie for the table. Yes please!! After passing it back and forth (though when it stopped at Amy and I, my Mom felt it necessary to comment about two pregnant women eating ice cream. Yeah, yeah yeah...) most of the chocolate and caramel from the plate made it's way to Kenzie's hands.
Amy and I took her to the bathroom to wash up, and while we waited for Amy, Kenzie turned to me and gave my belly a big SMOOCH and said "cute baby!" I've had some pretty great moments during this pregnancy, but that single moment is definitely in my Top 10 so far. I'm not sure I've felt anything sweeter (though I've gotten some very sweet belly rubs) than my 4-year-old niece kissing my belly.
That warmed this Momma's heart.
Monday, February 14, 2011
I felt LIFE!!!
I was sitting at on off-site retreat today for work and was completely distracted by the flutters in my belly. No, not nerves... not gas... not even hunger pangs. I felt the baby move!!!
But before this... I was sitting on the couch with John about two weeks ago and I put my hand to my belly in surprise and said, "Oh! I think I just felt the baby move!" His tender reply: "I think you just want to feel the baby move." Maybe so, but I'm pretty sure that was it.
Then about a week later, as we were cuddled up in bed about to fall asleep, I gasped again, "Holy cow, I totally just felt the baby move!!" To which my sweet husband blurted, "Holy cow you just woke me up!" LOL! Not the reaction I was looking for... I said, "sorry, but I am really feeling it moving around." (P.S. I hate calling our child an "it," but we'll find out the gender soon enough...) John was startled awake by my exclamation, so I whipsered, "okay sorry, but I really did feel the baby move... go back to sleep."
Today, there was no mistaking the acrobatics going around in my womb. I eagerly put my hand to my stomach, but I realized that it's going to be awhile before it can be felt from the outside. I so want John to feel his baby moving around inside of me. But instead I texted him, "I'm feeling the baby move a lot today!" He is so excited about this baby and when he got home tonight, he was asking me all about what it was like to feel that. I told him one time that it made me a little sad that as a man, he'll never get to feel that life inside of him... but he said he's okay with that.
I've been eager for this sensation. It's similar to how I needed to see the little peanut on the first ultrasound in order to feel more of a connection to the new life inside of me. Lately, I've felt like I needed to feel movement in order to increase our bond. I am so blessed to be able to carry life, and I have this incredible joy in knowing that I get to care for this baby now and for the rest of its life. What an amazing high this is!!
But before this... I was sitting on the couch with John about two weeks ago and I put my hand to my belly in surprise and said, "Oh! I think I just felt the baby move!" His tender reply: "I think you just want to feel the baby move." Maybe so, but I'm pretty sure that was it.
Then about a week later, as we were cuddled up in bed about to fall asleep, I gasped again, "Holy cow, I totally just felt the baby move!!" To which my sweet husband blurted, "Holy cow you just woke me up!" LOL! Not the reaction I was looking for... I said, "sorry, but I am really feeling it moving around." (P.S. I hate calling our child an "it," but we'll find out the gender soon enough...) John was startled awake by my exclamation, so I whipsered, "okay sorry, but I really did feel the baby move... go back to sleep."
Today, there was no mistaking the acrobatics going around in my womb. I eagerly put my hand to my stomach, but I realized that it's going to be awhile before it can be felt from the outside. I so want John to feel his baby moving around inside of me. But instead I texted him, "I'm feeling the baby move a lot today!" He is so excited about this baby and when he got home tonight, he was asking me all about what it was like to feel that. I told him one time that it made me a little sad that as a man, he'll never get to feel that life inside of him... but he said he's okay with that.
I've been eager for this sensation. It's similar to how I needed to see the little peanut on the first ultrasound in order to feel more of a connection to the new life inside of me. Lately, I've felt like I needed to feel movement in order to increase our bond. I am so blessed to be able to carry life, and I have this incredible joy in knowing that I get to care for this baby now and for the rest of its life. What an amazing high this is!!
Saturday, February 12, 2011
No comment
I learned today that my posts are not up to par with my fellow bloggers (well, my sisters anyway). Apparently I don't invoke a lot of thought or feeling that is deserving of a comment or two.
Well, that's okay.
I was hesitant about blogging in the first place, then I never knew what to write so I didn't (and got slack for that too)... and the truth is, I'm not writing for anyone in particular. Yes, it feels good to get a comment or two, but honestly, I don't expect them.
I often have a lot of thoughts about things and think, "that would be good to write about..." But then I don't. So when I do take the time to sit down and get it out, it isn't for you. Read it or don't. Comment or don't.
I had a band teacher once who told us that practice didn't make perfect, it made permanent. To relate that to blogging, I feel that if I practice writing more, I will improve (and maybe my subject matter will be more interesting too,) but maybe I'll get into more of a rhythm of blogging more interesting topics.
Until then, this is what you get.
Well, that's okay.
I was hesitant about blogging in the first place, then I never knew what to write so I didn't (and got slack for that too)... and the truth is, I'm not writing for anyone in particular. Yes, it feels good to get a comment or two, but honestly, I don't expect them.
I often have a lot of thoughts about things and think, "that would be good to write about..." But then I don't. So when I do take the time to sit down and get it out, it isn't for you. Read it or don't. Comment or don't.
I had a band teacher once who told us that practice didn't make perfect, it made permanent. To relate that to blogging, I feel that if I practice writing more, I will improve (and maybe my subject matter will be more interesting too,) but maybe I'll get into more of a rhythm of blogging more interesting topics.
Until then, this is what you get.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Perspective
I thought today was going to be a really great day: I finally had a good night’s sleep, which hasn’t happened in about 3-4 months.
However, after rolling over in bed, I had the overwhelming feeling that I was going to be sick—and I was.
I recovered and mustered up the strength to shower, then immediately got sick again after stepping out, still dripping wet.
I regained my strength again and went downstairs for a shake, discouraged and emotional, but pushed through.
This morning dragged on and it seemed to take me forever to get ready. I finally left the house after 9:00am.
On the way in to work, I came across a very bad accident involving a small car and BIG truck and lots of emergency vehicles.
We were detoured, which made my commute longer, adding to my stress and frustration.
Then, I pulled up behind a cop car with someone in the back seat (you don’t see that often), and my mood changed…
Perspective.
The person in the back of that cop car is having a worse day than I. And, I wasn’t in that bad accident I saw before.
After pulling onto Colfax, I saw a fire truck pulled into a bank and paramedics walking inside. I’m not the person in the bank.
Perspective.
I pulled into the parking garage to go to work. I work at a hospital. I’m not here because I’m being treated.
Perspective.
I am blessed. I am so very blessed with an amazing husband, a baby on the way, a warm house and food and clothing.
I am blessed with the support of my family and many friends, and I have a good job to be proud of.
So what if I got sick this morning and don’t feel well today? I’m pregnant! And that is such a huge blessing!!!
Perspective.
However, after rolling over in bed, I had the overwhelming feeling that I was going to be sick—and I was.
I recovered and mustered up the strength to shower, then immediately got sick again after stepping out, still dripping wet.
I regained my strength again and went downstairs for a shake, discouraged and emotional, but pushed through.
This morning dragged on and it seemed to take me forever to get ready. I finally left the house after 9:00am.
On the way in to work, I came across a very bad accident involving a small car and BIG truck and lots of emergency vehicles.
We were detoured, which made my commute longer, adding to my stress and frustration.
Then, I pulled up behind a cop car with someone in the back seat (you don’t see that often), and my mood changed…
Perspective.
The person in the back of that cop car is having a worse day than I. And, I wasn’t in that bad accident I saw before.
After pulling onto Colfax, I saw a fire truck pulled into a bank and paramedics walking inside. I’m not the person in the bank.
Perspective.
I pulled into the parking garage to go to work. I work at a hospital. I’m not here because I’m being treated.
Perspective.
I am blessed. I am so very blessed with an amazing husband, a baby on the way, a warm house and food and clothing.
I am blessed with the support of my family and many friends, and I have a good job to be proud of.
So what if I got sick this morning and don’t feel well today? I’m pregnant! And that is such a huge blessing!!!
Perspective.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Here kitty, kitty!
I cleaned the house today. I vacuumed every carpeted room, all the wood floor and even swiffered it. This activity usually keeps the pets busy too running from room to room--away from the vacuum. It can actually be quite funny.
Wrigley will usually gets curious enough to come check out what it is I'm doing until the evil roaring sucking machine comes towards him--and then he bolts! Gus, on the other hand, is quickly scared out of whatever room I make my way into. Sadly for him, I usually end up following him into the next room (not on purpose, I swear!) However, we have used this trick as a way to get him out of a room that we don't want him in. Mean, I know. But he's a cat... he's got like five lives left, at least.
So after vacuuming the main floor today, I headed upstairs. I tackled the stairs on my way up, cleaned our bedroom, the hallway, and the guest room. Then it dawned on me--where's the cat? The last time I had seen him was when he ran scared out of the family room (one of the first rooms I vacuumed). He wasn't under either of the beds, behind the armoire, in the closet... hmm...
I hollered down to John in his office, "hey, have you seen the cat?" "The cat?" he echoed back... and we both started searching. I really don't know how long we looked, but we searched every room, high and low, multiple times each before we stopped and panicked. Basement? No. Under the couches? Lifted and looked. No. Outside? Wait, did he get outside???
Gus is not an outdoor cat. He got out ONCE, about 5 years ago. It was up in Arvada (the old house) when John still lived with Walter. Our stealth little feline tore through the screen of a window that Walter had open during the day (we do not blame Walter for this AT ALL). Gus was gone for a couple of days before he was discovered in the back yard. He hadn't run away!! Walter opened the back door and heard a small mewing from under the pine tree in the corner of the yard. Poor Gussers never left the yard, and probably hadn't eaten the whole time he was out there. Needless to say, he was happy to come back inside for some food and TLC--which he got!
However, the outside in this neighborhood is MUCH different than the outside at the last house. Poor kitty would make friends with bunnies here and probably meet his fate at the jaws of a coyote. We were devatstated to think that he might be out there on his own. Yet we still couldn't figure out how he would have gotten out. We opened a few windows earlier to get some fresh air, but all screens are in tact. However, we put on our coats and took a walk around the block anyway. I took a can of wet cat food with me, as he usually comes running when he hears the can tapped. Hey, it was worth a shot.
After our walk, and a few tears on my part, we headed back inside with heavy hearts. I kicked off my shoes, put the canned food on the counter and was ready to collapse on the sofa--I was pooped! But when I turned the corner into the family room, I was greeted by the cutest little black and white face, and tiny little mew. My Gusser cat!!!!!!!! I didn't know where he was hiding, but I chased him to the upstairs calling after him and crying. I've never been so happy to see my cat!! I really thought he was gone. I pulled him out from under the bed and forced a little snuggling on him. I think he was confused, afterall, he didn't know he was lost! Although I still didn't know where he had been hiding the whole time. I guess it just took us leaving the house for him to come out.
John went into the middle bedroom (the soon-to-be nursery) and found the closet open a few inches, just enough for a sneaky kitty to come out. But wait--I looked in that closet four times! Well, what we've always claimed was proven right again today: we have a houdini cat. I swear he can hide anywhere. When I said we looked high and low, we did. I would not put it past him to get on top of the fridge, or cabinets... or who knows where.
But he's safe and found. He never left the house, and I will do everything I can to make sure he never does. I would have been so very sad to lose him today. And he's getting plenty of love (and already devoured the wet food). I love my kitty.
Wrigley will usually gets curious enough to come check out what it is I'm doing until the evil roaring sucking machine comes towards him--and then he bolts! Gus, on the other hand, is quickly scared out of whatever room I make my way into. Sadly for him, I usually end up following him into the next room (not on purpose, I swear!) However, we have used this trick as a way to get him out of a room that we don't want him in. Mean, I know. But he's a cat... he's got like five lives left, at least.
So after vacuuming the main floor today, I headed upstairs. I tackled the stairs on my way up, cleaned our bedroom, the hallway, and the guest room. Then it dawned on me--where's the cat? The last time I had seen him was when he ran scared out of the family room (one of the first rooms I vacuumed). He wasn't under either of the beds, behind the armoire, in the closet... hmm...
I hollered down to John in his office, "hey, have you seen the cat?" "The cat?" he echoed back... and we both started searching. I really don't know how long we looked, but we searched every room, high and low, multiple times each before we stopped and panicked. Basement? No. Under the couches? Lifted and looked. No. Outside? Wait, did he get outside???
Gus is not an outdoor cat. He got out ONCE, about 5 years ago. It was up in Arvada (the old house) when John still lived with Walter. Our stealth little feline tore through the screen of a window that Walter had open during the day (we do not blame Walter for this AT ALL). Gus was gone for a couple of days before he was discovered in the back yard. He hadn't run away!! Walter opened the back door and heard a small mewing from under the pine tree in the corner of the yard. Poor Gussers never left the yard, and probably hadn't eaten the whole time he was out there. Needless to say, he was happy to come back inside for some food and TLC--which he got!
However, the outside in this neighborhood is MUCH different than the outside at the last house. Poor kitty would make friends with bunnies here and probably meet his fate at the jaws of a coyote. We were devatstated to think that he might be out there on his own. Yet we still couldn't figure out how he would have gotten out. We opened a few windows earlier to get some fresh air, but all screens are in tact. However, we put on our coats and took a walk around the block anyway. I took a can of wet cat food with me, as he usually comes running when he hears the can tapped. Hey, it was worth a shot.
After our walk, and a few tears on my part, we headed back inside with heavy hearts. I kicked off my shoes, put the canned food on the counter and was ready to collapse on the sofa--I was pooped! But when I turned the corner into the family room, I was greeted by the cutest little black and white face, and tiny little mew. My Gusser cat!!!!!!!! I didn't know where he was hiding, but I chased him to the upstairs calling after him and crying. I've never been so happy to see my cat!! I really thought he was gone. I pulled him out from under the bed and forced a little snuggling on him. I think he was confused, afterall, he didn't know he was lost! Although I still didn't know where he had been hiding the whole time. I guess it just took us leaving the house for him to come out.
John went into the middle bedroom (the soon-to-be nursery) and found the closet open a few inches, just enough for a sneaky kitty to come out. But wait--I looked in that closet four times! Well, what we've always claimed was proven right again today: we have a houdini cat. I swear he can hide anywhere. When I said we looked high and low, we did. I would not put it past him to get on top of the fridge, or cabinets... or who knows where.
But he's safe and found. He never left the house, and I will do everything I can to make sure he never does. I would have been so very sad to lose him today. And he's getting plenty of love (and already devoured the wet food). I love my kitty.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Things Women Don't Talk About: Part 2
Note to reader: the title of the post is a means of therapy for me. I've found that unless you have sisters, a mom you can talk to about anything, or close girlfriends, women don't usually talk about all the gross details of being a woman (and this particular post is... gross). Later topics to come.
CONSTIPATION (specifically during pregnancy)
Look, it happens, but you don't typically acknowledge it--anytime. And while I heard (from one particular sister) that constipation can occur when you're pregnant, I was not prepared for the pain and discomfort. Let's face it, there is a certain level of discomfort (and some intermittent pain) that comes with pregnancy anyway. Don't get me wrong, this is a beautiful experience, but wowza--my body is a-changin', and not without a fight!! Ligaments stretching?? Owwwww!!!!
So back to my backed up bowels... oh dear. I felt bloated from about the day after I got a positive on the HPT. But add some minor (ha! MAJOR) blockage to the digestive tract, and any bloating I felt up until this day was a tease. I had morning sickness like many of my pregnant friends have (not all, you lucky ducks!) but I honestly think that my sickness lasted as long as it did because I was so constipated!
Now, if you must know--though you probably don't care--I've been constipated before. When I was 12, I got sick frequently, missed school, missed the Phantom of the Opera (that's another post for another day) and went through several tests with my pediatrician before being deemed "severely constipated." Awesome. She said my bowels were rock hard, and since the food had no where to go, it explained why I vomited so often. And when the laxatives, diet and enema didn't work, we tried more laxatives. My mother cried the day I pooped. Then every day for the next six years or so (I wish I were exaggerating), she asked me if I had pooped. Sheesh!
So this particular "condition" is not so new to me, but being pregnant, I couldn't use all of the previous methods of relief, shall we say, that I had used before. If you need a quick fix, let me know... there's a magical drink out there that you can down quickly that will prove fast results. But being pregnant, it's not safe to use. Stool softeners are okay though, and I took many. And a suppository. Too much information? Sorry! But I think it's good to be honest about this, and maybe you have no one else to share with. This is a safe place.
Once I found the relief I needed, I was a much happier Prego. The bloating subsided, I slept better, and I got sick less often. I really have to pay attention to my bowel movements though still, as I am prone to this condition.
However, I also learned at one of my latest OB appointments that the anti-nausea medication I was on can cause constipation. Really?! If I had known that, I wouldn't have taken it!! I know my body, and I would not do that to myself.
So there you have it. Constipation. Let's discuss it. Let's commiserate together.
And... have you pooped today?
CONSTIPATION (specifically during pregnancy)
Look, it happens, but you don't typically acknowledge it--anytime. And while I heard (from one particular sister) that constipation can occur when you're pregnant, I was not prepared for the pain and discomfort. Let's face it, there is a certain level of discomfort (and some intermittent pain) that comes with pregnancy anyway. Don't get me wrong, this is a beautiful experience, but wowza--my body is a-changin', and not without a fight!! Ligaments stretching?? Owwwww!!!!
So back to my backed up bowels... oh dear. I felt bloated from about the day after I got a positive on the HPT. But add some minor (ha! MAJOR) blockage to the digestive tract, and any bloating I felt up until this day was a tease. I had morning sickness like many of my pregnant friends have (not all, you lucky ducks!) but I honestly think that my sickness lasted as long as it did because I was so constipated!
Now, if you must know--though you probably don't care--I've been constipated before. When I was 12, I got sick frequently, missed school, missed the Phantom of the Opera (that's another post for another day) and went through several tests with my pediatrician before being deemed "severely constipated." Awesome. She said my bowels were rock hard, and since the food had no where to go, it explained why I vomited so often. And when the laxatives, diet and enema didn't work, we tried more laxatives. My mother cried the day I pooped. Then every day for the next six years or so (I wish I were exaggerating), she asked me if I had pooped. Sheesh!
So this particular "condition" is not so new to me, but being pregnant, I couldn't use all of the previous methods of relief, shall we say, that I had used before. If you need a quick fix, let me know... there's a magical drink out there that you can down quickly that will prove fast results. But being pregnant, it's not safe to use. Stool softeners are okay though, and I took many. And a suppository. Too much information? Sorry! But I think it's good to be honest about this, and maybe you have no one else to share with. This is a safe place.
Once I found the relief I needed, I was a much happier Prego. The bloating subsided, I slept better, and I got sick less often. I really have to pay attention to my bowel movements though still, as I am prone to this condition.
However, I also learned at one of my latest OB appointments that the anti-nausea medication I was on can cause constipation. Really?! If I had known that, I wouldn't have taken it!! I know my body, and I would not do that to myself.
So there you have it. Constipation. Let's discuss it. Let's commiserate together.
And... have you pooped today?
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Things Women Don't Talk About: Part 1
Note to reader: the title of the post is a means of therapy for me. I've found that unless you have sisters, a mom you can talk to about anything, or close girlfriends, women don't usually talk about all the gross details of being a woman. Later topics to come.
FERTILITY (not infertility)
If you've ever tried to get pregnant, you'll find that you hear story after story of the Fertile Myrtles who go off the pill and are immediately blessed with pregnancy. You talk to friend after friend who knows someone who... and they all live happily ever after with the pitter patter of little feet.
But it isn't until you find yourself taking negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test that you realize you may not be Fertile Myrtle, and modern medicine may need to play a part in your family planning.
This is where I found myself.
Back story: my husband and I got married and decided to wait one year before starting our family. But on our one year anniversary, my husband admitted that he wasn't ready yet. This is just fine. I was ready the day after we said "I do," but I didn't want to move forward without my partner if he wasn't ready. So we waited. About four months later, we decided to "pull the goalie" as my husband so-romantically phrases it: I went off birth control. And just as birth control had screwed up my cycle when I went ON it, it screwed me up again when I went OFF of it. I didn't have a cycle for three months (and about 7 HPTs later)... then I started a new job... then we moved... then I admitted that I wasn't ready. But when we moved into our new home in July 2009, we were settled and moving forward, and we decided to start trying again.
I tracked my temperature every morning and noticed zero pattern. I watched for every sign my body might give me that I was ovulating. Zilch. I read about it. I learned way more about my own reproductive system than I thought I ever wanted to know. And as we reached the year mark of trying to get pregnant, my husband suggested I call the doctor. I was scared. And to be honest, it was hard for me to admit that something might be wrong with my body. Why is my body not doing what it was made to do??
Rightfully so, my husband started to question my desire to start a family. He didn't understand why I wouldn't call the doctor when all I had ever talked about was being a Mommy. But honestly, that was a hard phone call to make. Really hard. And I put it off for days and weeks.
Finally, it went something like this:
(nurse) "What is the purpose of the appointment?"
(me) "I, um... well... we need to... uh, I'm not... it's just that... (deep breath) we-need-to-talk-to-someone-because-we've-been-trying-for-a-year-and-we-aren't-pregnant! (PHEW!)" There, I said it.
No problem. They set us up for an appointment with a nurse in the office that specializes in fertility. Not necessarily INfertility, but fertility. Exactly the reason I called: let's figure out why I'm not pregnant yet. The nurse was amazing, and she made us feel like we were her only patients. The process seemed to take forever and was very stressful as we went through it, but in actuality, it was pretty quick and painless (minus the numerous blood draws!)
July: meeting with fertility specialist
August: track my cycle, discover that I didn't ovulate. Blood draw and hormone testing confirms. Wah wah.
September: ...No cycle. Rut roh! (Are you SURE I'm not pregnant? Yes, you didn't ovulate.)
October: take medicine to kick-start cycle, then take second medication to make me ovulate. BINGO!
November 1st: take home pregnancy test to reveal the greatest outcome I had always hoped for: positive.
In retrospect, that seemed so fast!! I know that not everyone has those results, but I was thrilled we had the options, the help, and that wonderful outcome.
We are pregnant and ELATED. I was in shock, giddy, nervous and happy, anxious, scared, thrilled... and SO thankful for modern medicine. In all actuality, we didn't have to go through months (or even years!) of testing and medication and expenses of additional methods. Our journey was relatively short on time, but not on stress or emotion.
One of my husband's friend's wife contacted me via Facebook to ask about our infertility issues. I hesitated writing her back (knowing her history of an ectopic pregnancy and other issues), and I wanted to make it clear that we didn't have INfertility issues, rather we went through some fertility testing. I gave her the same timeline I outlined above... but I didn't hear from her again after that. And I felt bad.
I recall several dinners and conversations with my girlfriends talking about what John and I were going through. One of my girlfriends pointed out that these are the stories you don't hear: people that struggle to get pregnant. It's true! How many times do you hear about a woman going off birth control and getting pregnant the next month? But unless you (or someone close to you) has the opposite experience, you don't hear much about that. I have one sister that I joke can walk past the bed and get pregnant, and my other sister went through similar testing that John and I did (actually, at the same office even, which was a blessing to me to be able to talk to her about what we were doing.) Both sisters have multiple kiddos (4 and 2, respectively) and I love that I can learn from each of them.
Getting pregnant is not easy for everyone. For some, yes. And God bless them! For others, it takes a little time, patience, maybe some medicine, and a lot of prayers! So all wrapped up into one, I'll say it again: I thank God for modern medicine (and our precious little peanut as a result!)
FERTILITY (not infertility)
If you've ever tried to get pregnant, you'll find that you hear story after story of the Fertile Myrtles who go off the pill and are immediately blessed with pregnancy. You talk to friend after friend who knows someone who... and they all live happily ever after with the pitter patter of little feet.
But it isn't until you find yourself taking negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test that you realize you may not be Fertile Myrtle, and modern medicine may need to play a part in your family planning.
This is where I found myself.
Back story: my husband and I got married and decided to wait one year before starting our family. But on our one year anniversary, my husband admitted that he wasn't ready yet. This is just fine. I was ready the day after we said "I do," but I didn't want to move forward without my partner if he wasn't ready. So we waited. About four months later, we decided to "pull the goalie" as my husband so-romantically phrases it: I went off birth control. And just as birth control had screwed up my cycle when I went ON it, it screwed me up again when I went OFF of it. I didn't have a cycle for three months (and about 7 HPTs later)... then I started a new job... then we moved... then I admitted that I wasn't ready. But when we moved into our new home in July 2009, we were settled and moving forward, and we decided to start trying again.
I tracked my temperature every morning and noticed zero pattern. I watched for every sign my body might give me that I was ovulating. Zilch. I read about it. I learned way more about my own reproductive system than I thought I ever wanted to know. And as we reached the year mark of trying to get pregnant, my husband suggested I call the doctor. I was scared. And to be honest, it was hard for me to admit that something might be wrong with my body. Why is my body not doing what it was made to do??
Rightfully so, my husband started to question my desire to start a family. He didn't understand why I wouldn't call the doctor when all I had ever talked about was being a Mommy. But honestly, that was a hard phone call to make. Really hard. And I put it off for days and weeks.
Finally, it went something like this:
(nurse) "What is the purpose of the appointment?"
(me) "I, um... well... we need to... uh, I'm not... it's just that... (deep breath) we-need-to-talk-to-someone-because-we've-been-trying-for-a-year-and-we-aren't-pregnant! (PHEW!)" There, I said it.
No problem. They set us up for an appointment with a nurse in the office that specializes in fertility. Not necessarily INfertility, but fertility. Exactly the reason I called: let's figure out why I'm not pregnant yet. The nurse was amazing, and she made us feel like we were her only patients. The process seemed to take forever and was very stressful as we went through it, but in actuality, it was pretty quick and painless (minus the numerous blood draws!)
July: meeting with fertility specialist
August: track my cycle, discover that I didn't ovulate. Blood draw and hormone testing confirms. Wah wah.
September: ...No cycle. Rut roh! (Are you SURE I'm not pregnant? Yes, you didn't ovulate.)
October: take medicine to kick-start cycle, then take second medication to make me ovulate. BINGO!
November 1st: take home pregnancy test to reveal the greatest outcome I had always hoped for: positive.
In retrospect, that seemed so fast!! I know that not everyone has those results, but I was thrilled we had the options, the help, and that wonderful outcome.
We are pregnant and ELATED. I was in shock, giddy, nervous and happy, anxious, scared, thrilled... and SO thankful for modern medicine. In all actuality, we didn't have to go through months (or even years!) of testing and medication and expenses of additional methods. Our journey was relatively short on time, but not on stress or emotion.
One of my husband's friend's wife contacted me via Facebook to ask about our infertility issues. I hesitated writing her back (knowing her history of an ectopic pregnancy and other issues), and I wanted to make it clear that we didn't have INfertility issues, rather we went through some fertility testing. I gave her the same timeline I outlined above... but I didn't hear from her again after that. And I felt bad.
I recall several dinners and conversations with my girlfriends talking about what John and I were going through. One of my girlfriends pointed out that these are the stories you don't hear: people that struggle to get pregnant. It's true! How many times do you hear about a woman going off birth control and getting pregnant the next month? But unless you (or someone close to you) has the opposite experience, you don't hear much about that. I have one sister that I joke can walk past the bed and get pregnant, and my other sister went through similar testing that John and I did (actually, at the same office even, which was a blessing to me to be able to talk to her about what we were doing.) Both sisters have multiple kiddos (4 and 2, respectively) and I love that I can learn from each of them.
Getting pregnant is not easy for everyone. For some, yes. And God bless them! For others, it takes a little time, patience, maybe some medicine, and a lot of prayers! So all wrapped up into one, I'll say it again: I thank God for modern medicine (and our precious little peanut as a result!)
Friday, September 3, 2010
The House That Built Me
Driving down the road the other day, this song came on the radio and pulled me right in. By the end of the first chorus, I was crying. I couldn't help but think about the house that I grew up in... the house that built me. The corner house on South Painted Sky Street (how's that for a street name?) will always be a home to me.
When my parents moved our little family of 5 into that house in September 1982, it became our home. I was five months old and spent almost exactly the next 20 years of my life within those walls. With the exception of college and two years on my own, that house was my home. I moved back in with Mom and Dad when I got engaged and planned the wedding, then moved in with my husband the day after we got married.
I cried when I pulled out of the driveway and went off to college. I cried harder when I pulled out of the driveway to go spend my first night in my own apartment. I cried when I pulled away to go move in with a boy--my husband. And I cried the hardest when I pulled away for the last time because my parents had sold the house. I came to learn later that my Mom had cried then too. But someone else lives there now. Someone else is making memories there now and is growing up in my room.
For most of my life, that house was HOME to me--to us! It was where I had my first steps. First day of school. First school bus ride at the corner (cheesey pictures to prove it!) First dog and cat. First best friend. First crush. First bike. First boyfriend. First kiss. First school dance (great pictures there, too!) First heartache. First car (and car accident). First... everything. That house holds more memories within its walls and boundaries than I can even count. And so many of the lines from the song are true to my story and the home I grew up in. Without a doubt, that house built me.
If I could just come in, I swear I'll leave
Mama cut out pictures of houses for years
If I could just come in, I swear I'll leave
When my parents moved our little family of 5 into that house in September 1982, it became our home. I was five months old and spent almost exactly the next 20 years of my life within those walls. With the exception of college and two years on my own, that house was my home. I moved back in with Mom and Dad when I got engaged and planned the wedding, then moved in with my husband the day after we got married.
I cried when I pulled out of the driveway and went off to college. I cried harder when I pulled out of the driveway to go spend my first night in my own apartment. I cried when I pulled away to go move in with a boy--my husband. And I cried the hardest when I pulled away for the last time because my parents had sold the house. I came to learn later that my Mom had cried then too. But someone else lives there now. Someone else is making memories there now and is growing up in my room.
For most of my life, that house was HOME to me--to us! It was where I had my first steps. First day of school. First school bus ride at the corner (cheesey pictures to prove it!) First dog and cat. First best friend. First crush. First bike. First boyfriend. First kiss. First school dance (great pictures there, too!) First heartache. First car (and car accident). First... everything. That house holds more memories within its walls and boundaries than I can even count. And so many of the lines from the song are true to my story and the home I grew up in. Without a doubt, that house built me.
The House That Built Me
Miranda Lambert
I know they say you can't go home again
I just had to come back one last time
Ma'am, I know you don't know me from Adam
But these hand prints on the front steps are mine
Up those stairs in that little back bedroom
Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar
And I bet you didn't know under that live oak
My favorite dog is buried in the yard
I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it's like I'm someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could just come in, I swear I'll leave
Won't take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me
Mama cut out pictures of houses for years
From "Better Homes and Garden" magazine
Plans were drawn and concrete poured
And nail by nail and board by board
Daddy gave life to Mama's dream
I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it's like I'm someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could just come in, I swear I'll leave
Won't take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me
You leave home, you move on
And you do the best you can
I got lost in this whole world
And forgot who I am
I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it's like I'm someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could walk around, I swear I'll leave
Won't take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Bathroom blunders
I ditched a work meeting last week to meet a couple of girlfriends for lunch... the guilt of missing the meeting slowly disappeared as K-Dub and S.Pray (can I call you "Spray"?) and I settled into our chairs on the patio in the sun. K-Dub was on break from school (she teaches year-round) and Spray and I welcomed the chance to escape our desk jobs and see each other mid-day.
Naturally, the conversation landed on "bathroom" chatter. We covered the topics of work, shopping, boys, Facebook and movies, and found ourselves discussing bathroom etiquette. It's nice to know that some of this bothers other people and not just me.
Decision #1: When possible, always allow for the buffer. If there are three stalls and the middle one is occupied, you really don't have a choice but to work side-by-side. However, if one stall is occupied, and it's possible to skip one before sitting down in the next (we girls sit down, you know), then by all means: allow for the buffer.
Decision #2: It is not acceptable to sing in a public bathroom. ...This includes the work bathroom at the end of the hall Miss Whistler at my office!!! I finally figured out who she is, and if I can find a delicate way to silence her singing, I will. I've come to the bathroom to take care of a private matter, I do not need your soundtrack!
Strategy: If the stall you have chosen is out of TP and you notice it too late, it is acceptable to reach under and pull the paper down that is visibly hanging in the stall next to you (assuming it's vacant, of course). I have strategically used this method more than once. Just recently, a woman came into the stall just after my stealth steal and had to pull the tissue back to her side. Oopsie!
Rule: ALWAYS use the tissue liner for the seat. Just do it.
Decision #3: It's almost always cute to hear a kiddo's chatter in the public restroom. I think my sisters have a few stories of when their munchins embarassed them in this scenario, but it is very entertaining for the audience.
Decision #4: Always, always, ALWAYS wash your hands before leaving. This should not have to be pointed out, but I have seen/heard someone walk out more than once without stopping at the sink. AND, some of you don't wash for long enough. Splashing the water around in the sink does not constitute a good cleansing. Sheesh!
Confession: sometimes I go to the bathroom at work just to get away from the ringing phones, dinging emails and nagging employees. Sometimes I take my phone with me. Most times I'm catching up on Facebook posts when I have my phone with me. Sometimes I event comment... yes, all while I'm in the bathroom. Is that uncomfortable for you? Next time you notice me on FB during the day, will you wonder if I'm on the potty? I might be.
P.S. K-Dub, you didn't exactly expect the first post that you were tagged in to be about the bathroom, did you? Yeah... sorry 'bout that. :)
Naturally, the conversation landed on "bathroom" chatter. We covered the topics of work, shopping, boys, Facebook and movies, and found ourselves discussing bathroom etiquette. It's nice to know that some of this bothers other people and not just me.
Decision #1: When possible, always allow for the buffer. If there are three stalls and the middle one is occupied, you really don't have a choice but to work side-by-side. However, if one stall is occupied, and it's possible to skip one before sitting down in the next (we girls sit down, you know), then by all means: allow for the buffer.
Decision #2: It is not acceptable to sing in a public bathroom. ...This includes the work bathroom at the end of the hall Miss Whistler at my office!!! I finally figured out who she is, and if I can find a delicate way to silence her singing, I will. I've come to the bathroom to take care of a private matter, I do not need your soundtrack!
Strategy: If the stall you have chosen is out of TP and you notice it too late, it is acceptable to reach under and pull the paper down that is visibly hanging in the stall next to you (assuming it's vacant, of course). I have strategically used this method more than once. Just recently, a woman came into the stall just after my stealth steal and had to pull the tissue back to her side. Oopsie!
Rule: ALWAYS use the tissue liner for the seat. Just do it.
Decision #3: It's almost always cute to hear a kiddo's chatter in the public restroom. I think my sisters have a few stories of when their munchins embarassed them in this scenario, but it is very entertaining for the audience.
Decision #4: Always, always, ALWAYS wash your hands before leaving. This should not have to be pointed out, but I have seen/heard someone walk out more than once without stopping at the sink. AND, some of you don't wash for long enough. Splashing the water around in the sink does not constitute a good cleansing. Sheesh!
Confession: sometimes I go to the bathroom at work just to get away from the ringing phones, dinging emails and nagging employees. Sometimes I take my phone with me. Most times I'm catching up on Facebook posts when I have my phone with me. Sometimes I event comment... yes, all while I'm in the bathroom. Is that uncomfortable for you? Next time you notice me on FB during the day, will you wonder if I'm on the potty? I might be.
P.S. K-Dub, you didn't exactly expect the first post that you were tagged in to be about the bathroom, did you? Yeah... sorry 'bout that. :)
Monday, April 19, 2010
'Know what else I can do in a Snuggie?
...apparently fall flat on my face. No, not kidding!!
John got me a pink Snuggie for my birthday (among many other things as I celebrated by "birthday week") and I found that I really can watch TV, talk on the phone, read, work on the computer, etc. in a snuggie!
John got me a pink Snuggie for my birthday (among many other things as I celebrated by "birthday week") and I found that I really can watch TV, talk on the phone, read, work on the computer, etc. in a snuggie!
Well yesterday, I was sitting at the kitchen table on my laptop while wearing my snuggie, and John was being especially annoying. So in a fit of surprise to him--well, and to me--I started to say "'know what else I can do in a Snuggie...?" And as I got up to run over and chase him, I slipped on the Snuggie (having stepped on it as I came out from behind the table), and like a cartoon character, my whole body went horizontal, and WHAM!! I hit the floor--hard.
I layed still trying to catch my breath--and then CRIED. It.hurt.so.bad. My left knee and hip got the worst of the fall, though I did reach up to feel if my glasses were broken, not knowing yet if I had hit my face or not on the way down too (I didn't). To his credit, John rushed over to me while holding back his laughter all the way. He checked to make sure I was not broken, though my ego was severely bruised, and when I gave him the okay to do so, he laughed and laughed and laughed. He stopped to ask me if I was laughing or crying, and when he realized I was still crying, he stifled his laughter for just a moment.
As my knight in shining armor, he peeled me up off the floor and carried me to the couch where he proceeded to bring me an ice pack for my bruised and battered body. I felt like I had been in a car wreck! My whole body is stiff and sore. Nothing that a half hour of HGTV wouldn't help, though. I told him that I wished I could have seen his face when it happened, but I just went down too fast! ...Pretty sure I heard John laughing as he walked out of the room.
Now I'm very careful about walking and wearing the Snuggie (it's long and I'm short, and this is problematic). Lesson learned: butt-kicking is not possible in a Snuggie, at least not successful chasing and butt-kicking, that is.
Second lesson: it is never okay for pets to wear Snuggies, or any other clothing for that matter.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Blackhawk... the REAL story
Although my dear memory-impaired sister attempted to recount that fateful night at the Rose seven years ago, she missed the mark just a bit. And yes, Angie, your side of the story WAS read with rolling eyes (not once, not twice...) and also much laughter--you comedian, you.
But now, let's sit back and prepare for the truthful side of the story of the night Blackhawk came to the Grizzly Rose in Denver in March 2003.
It was three weeks before my 21st birthday, so I reluctently donned the huge blue X's on my hands to show that I could not be served alcohol. (No worries, Angie blinked enough of it for all of us by the end of the night--oh sorry, we'll get to that.) We got to the Rose in time for the opening band and worked our way forward as people moved around or left for the bar. In doing so, we found our place next to two couples who had obviously started drinking long before we got there. As we giggled and danced to the music, Amy, meeger as she is, turned to me and said sweetly, "She's pushing me" (speaking of the drunkard to her right who attempted to save the spot of her bar-bound boyfriend in a standing room only section of the club.) Without hesitation I replied to Amy, "push her back!" A few moments later, Amy turned again, "She's pushing me!" Me: "So push her back!" When it happened again, I switched places with Amy knowing that Shovey McPusherson wasn't going to let up and Amy wasn't going to do any more than report Shovey's inconsiderate actions to us.
With my hip popped in place and my knee locked, Shovey pushed again. Only THIS time the recipient of her rude nudging hadn't budged. She noticed. I passively said, "excuse me." ...which only made her push again--harder. I again spoke up, "excuse me!" She whipped around with an elbow nearly in my face and balked that I would not move when she tried to move me! Just then, her boyfriend came back with drinks in hand for her (just what we all needed), and after he passed them off, he joined in the bullying. I turned to him (much taller than myself) after he pulled my hair. I repeat, he pulled my hair. While I addressed him with a look of horror, he dumbly spoke, "wasn't me!" Oh, uh huh, sure. Time out--where are my sisters during all of this? Amy is still swaying to the music with her curls matching her rhythm and her hands folded nicely in front of her. Angie? Well she's trying to talk sense into an otherwise senseless drunkard who wants us to move away.
I defended myself to the tall boyfriend about whether or not I should even be there (as he referenced the X's on my hands) as he argued that they had gotten there hours before we showed up and that we pushed our way to the front. Whatever, that's how it works at the Rose, and any other place I've been to with general admission standing room only. As I turned back around to the confrontation taking place behind me between Drunky and Angie, I heard Angie's infinite wisdom: (brace yourselves, it is NOT what she claimed in her post to have said...) "I think you've had too much to drink." Whelp! That did it! Drunky must have agreed, because both drinks in hand were promptly thrown in Angie's face. In my mind, I saw myself diving in slow motion "No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o" to save her face and eyes from the burning liquor, but it all happened so quickly! And yes, Angie's reaction was priceless: a shrill "AAAH!!!" as she threw her hands to her eyes and whisked the concoction from her contacts. I sprung into action to grab the bouncer--two of them actually--for some assistance in crowd control.
The first bouncer promptly took Angie away to the bathroom to clean her eyes, hair, and spotted shirt. And yes, she does admit to acting blind as she felt and patted her way to the bathroom. Some sympathy points won, I'm sure. While she was gone, a group of onlookers on the other side of us jumped in at our rescue to the fact that we were bullied and did nothing wrong. The second bouncer then watched Amy and I like a hawk while the drunk couple was fended off by their friends. While we waited for Angie to return, it was I that caught the pick from the band. I felt bad for her alcoholic bath (not guilty! SHE pointed out the blood-alcohol level of her attacker!!) so I graciously gave her the pick upon her return. At that point, the bouncer moved the three of us to the VIP section where we stood closer to the stage and band and right next to the DJs of the local country radio station.
From our viewpoint (and this is the point in the story that differs from Angie's... I can only imagine that the alcohol had somehow seeped in and altered her memory) we could see the entire crowd, including the drunk attacker. Amy offered, "I wonder if she can see us," to which I spouted, "I hope she can see us!!" And Angie reasoned, "I don't think she needs to see us, just watch the rest of the concert." Thank you, Oh Peacekeeper, can you even see through the red drink and stickiness of your eyelashes?? Haha!
We stayed around for a little bit after the concert and danced a few line dances. Then, on the way home, Angie proudly donned her prized (and gifted) pick on her forehead, stuck there compliments of a mixed drink by way of a confrontational drunkard. What a prize!
Let's review the "facts":
1. Abby elbowed her and aggressively --FALSE
2. I (Angie) stepped between Abby and drunk girl and nobly said, "Alright, everyone just calm down..." --FALSE. The fateful words were: "I believe you've had too much to drink" [insert throwing of alcohol HERE]
3. The most dramatic move in the history of Olson girls Girls' Nights --TRUE. And yes, request a reinactment next time you see Angie... or Amy... or me.
4. I (Angie) may have claimed to be blind at that point. --TRUE.
5. From VIP, Abby waved and gloated about our new and awesome position --FALSE (wave)
5b. Amy shied away and pretended it wasn't happening. --STILL TRUE
5c. I (Angie) played peacemaker and tried to downplay the place of privilege we now held. --TRUE. However, had Angie not been there, the drinks would not have been thrown and it would have been an otherwise boring and uneventful night.
6. I (Angie) caught a guitar pick. Yes, (she) did. --FALSE (ABBY did and graciously GAVE the pick Angie.) Drunk girl did not. --TRUE
And yes, last Friday night Blackhawk was back at the Grizzly Rose... while the three of us behaved ourselves, there was a fight that broke out right NEXT to us. They seriously outdid us though: there was hair pulling, punches thrown, cursing, etc. All we had were a couple of saucy drinks thrown in Angie's face! Even still, I guess it's not a good enough story without Angie's embellishments. ;) Good thing I'm here to speak the truth.
And, we had way more fun this time around:
She's playing along with the band, if you can't tell (she's on keyboard):
Silly girls!! Were they laughing at Angie's performance? At the really old guitar player who always looks confused? Or at the guys around us that reminded us of people we knew? Hey! ...Is that Jack???
AMY caught the pick this time, it was all her. First we gave a guy next to us a guilt trip for ripping the first one out of her hand, but she got her own after that. Way to go, Ame!
Thanks Blackhawk! We'll see you next time you're in Denver... maybe next time let US wear the Blackhawk shirts though. We know who you are...
But now, let's sit back and prepare for the truthful side of the story of the night Blackhawk came to the Grizzly Rose in Denver in March 2003.
It was three weeks before my 21st birthday, so I reluctently donned the huge blue X's on my hands to show that I could not be served alcohol. (No worries, Angie blinked enough of it for all of us by the end of the night--oh sorry, we'll get to that.) We got to the Rose in time for the opening band and worked our way forward as people moved around or left for the bar. In doing so, we found our place next to two couples who had obviously started drinking long before we got there. As we giggled and danced to the music, Amy, meeger as she is, turned to me and said sweetly, "She's pushing me" (speaking of the drunkard to her right who attempted to save the spot of her bar-bound boyfriend in a standing room only section of the club.) Without hesitation I replied to Amy, "push her back!" A few moments later, Amy turned again, "She's pushing me!" Me: "So push her back!" When it happened again, I switched places with Amy knowing that Shovey McPusherson wasn't going to let up and Amy wasn't going to do any more than report Shovey's inconsiderate actions to us.
With my hip popped in place and my knee locked, Shovey pushed again. Only THIS time the recipient of her rude nudging hadn't budged. She noticed. I passively said, "excuse me." ...which only made her push again--harder. I again spoke up, "excuse me!" She whipped around with an elbow nearly in my face and balked that I would not move when she tried to move me! Just then, her boyfriend came back with drinks in hand for her (just what we all needed), and after he passed them off, he joined in the bullying. I turned to him (much taller than myself) after he pulled my hair. I repeat, he pulled my hair. While I addressed him with a look of horror, he dumbly spoke, "wasn't me!" Oh, uh huh, sure. Time out--where are my sisters during all of this? Amy is still swaying to the music with her curls matching her rhythm and her hands folded nicely in front of her. Angie? Well she's trying to talk sense into an otherwise senseless drunkard who wants us to move away.
I defended myself to the tall boyfriend about whether or not I should even be there (as he referenced the X's on my hands) as he argued that they had gotten there hours before we showed up and that we pushed our way to the front. Whatever, that's how it works at the Rose, and any other place I've been to with general admission standing room only. As I turned back around to the confrontation taking place behind me between Drunky and Angie, I heard Angie's infinite wisdom: (brace yourselves, it is NOT what she claimed in her post to have said...) "I think you've had too much to drink." Whelp! That did it! Drunky must have agreed, because both drinks in hand were promptly thrown in Angie's face. In my mind, I saw myself diving in slow motion "No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o" to save her face and eyes from the burning liquor, but it all happened so quickly! And yes, Angie's reaction was priceless: a shrill "AAAH!!!" as she threw her hands to her eyes and whisked the concoction from her contacts. I sprung into action to grab the bouncer--two of them actually--for some assistance in crowd control.
The first bouncer promptly took Angie away to the bathroom to clean her eyes, hair, and spotted shirt. And yes, she does admit to acting blind as she felt and patted her way to the bathroom. Some sympathy points won, I'm sure. While she was gone, a group of onlookers on the other side of us jumped in at our rescue to the fact that we were bullied and did nothing wrong. The second bouncer then watched Amy and I like a hawk while the drunk couple was fended off by their friends. While we waited for Angie to return, it was I that caught the pick from the band. I felt bad for her alcoholic bath (not guilty! SHE pointed out the blood-alcohol level of her attacker!!) so I graciously gave her the pick upon her return. At that point, the bouncer moved the three of us to the VIP section where we stood closer to the stage and band and right next to the DJs of the local country radio station.
From our viewpoint (and this is the point in the story that differs from Angie's... I can only imagine that the alcohol had somehow seeped in and altered her memory) we could see the entire crowd, including the drunk attacker. Amy offered, "I wonder if she can see us," to which I spouted, "I hope she can see us!!" And Angie reasoned, "I don't think she needs to see us, just watch the rest of the concert." Thank you, Oh Peacekeeper, can you even see through the red drink and stickiness of your eyelashes?? Haha!
We stayed around for a little bit after the concert and danced a few line dances. Then, on the way home, Angie proudly donned her prized (and gifted) pick on her forehead, stuck there compliments of a mixed drink by way of a confrontational drunkard. What a prize!
Let's review the "facts":
1. Abby elbowed her and aggressively --FALSE
2. I (Angie) stepped between Abby and drunk girl and nobly said, "Alright, everyone just calm down..." --FALSE. The fateful words were: "I believe you've had too much to drink" [insert throwing of alcohol HERE]
3. The most dramatic move in the history of Olson girls Girls' Nights --TRUE. And yes, request a reinactment next time you see Angie... or Amy... or me.
4. I (Angie) may have claimed to be blind at that point. --TRUE.
5. From VIP, Abby waved and gloated about our new and awesome position --FALSE (wave)
5b. Amy shied away and pretended it wasn't happening. --STILL TRUE
5c. I (Angie) played peacemaker and tried to downplay the place of privilege we now held. --TRUE. However, had Angie not been there, the drinks would not have been thrown and it would have been an otherwise boring and uneventful night.
6. I (Angie) caught a guitar pick. Yes, (she) did. --FALSE (ABBY did and graciously GAVE the pick Angie.) Drunk girl did not. --TRUE
And yes, last Friday night Blackhawk was back at the Grizzly Rose... while the three of us behaved ourselves, there was a fight that broke out right NEXT to us. They seriously outdid us though: there was hair pulling, punches thrown, cursing, etc. All we had were a couple of saucy drinks thrown in Angie's face! Even still, I guess it's not a good enough story without Angie's embellishments. ;) Good thing I'm here to speak the truth.
And, we had way more fun this time around:
She's playing along with the band, if you can't tell (she's on keyboard):
Silly girls!! Were they laughing at Angie's performance? At the really old guitar player who always looks confused? Or at the guys around us that reminded us of people we knew? Hey! ...Is that Jack???
AMY caught the pick this time, it was all her. First we gave a guy next to us a guilt trip for ripping the first one out of her hand, but she got her own after that. Way to go, Ame!
That's right, he's posing for me... jealous?
Thanks Blackhawk! We'll see you next time you're in Denver... maybe next time let US wear the Blackhawk shirts though. We know who you are...
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Thailand or bust
Well, we made it safely to Chiang Mai, Thailand this morning. Our plane landed a little early, right at 7:30am (Monday). Our adventure started much, MUCH earlier though...
Our plane took off from Denver at 6:00am. This meant that my parents came to pick us up at 4:00am. When we were still packing for our trip at 2:30am, we knew we weren't going to sleep. In fact, I took a "power nap" for 25 minutes when John got in the shower, and it did more harm than good. Even our pets were fighting sleep and just wished that we would turn off the lights and go to bed. As I laid down for my nap at 2:30am, my kitty curled up next to me and even let me pull the blanket over him--that's a first. So I showered, packed the rest and my parents came right on time. Oy.
We made it to DIA in time to check our bag, grab McDonald's for breakfast and get to our gate. 2.5 hours to Chicago, no problem. For those of you playing along at home, YES, we went East just to turn around and go really far West. We had a couple of hours in the Chicago airport, which was just enough time to call the family, grab a Starbucks, and prepare ourselves for the long flight coming up. The plane was HUGE (thank goodness!) a 747 that would carry us over seas. I've never flown on a plane this big, and with all the traveling that John has done, he hadn't either. I promised my mom a call from the plane, and I told her that the first thing I saw when I stepped on board was a staircase--to the upper deck. She felt better about the flight, and honestly I did too.
13 hours ended up being just over 12, but still didn't go by as fast as we would have hoped. Oh. my. gosh. My back was wrecked (not great to begin with), my legs ached (yes, I got up to stretch and walk around,) and I used the bathroom twice (I don't use airplane toilets.) Ugh. We were fed twice, pumped with drinks, and slept oh-so-umcomfortably. The cool thing was that since we were headed to Tokyo, Japan first, all announcements were made in English and then Japanese. Neat! Oh, and we got an "apology card" from United because the movie wouldn't start. Yep, 12+ hours of looking at the map on big and little screens all over the plane. Whoopee. On one of my walks to stretch my legs, I saw that Business Class was watching The Office--no fair!! John and I started a movie on his laptop, but I had just taken an Advil PM, and the battery ran out just after I did anyway. (We finished it later, stay tuned).
A little over an hour in the Tokyo airport allowed us to use the bathroom, rearrange our carry-on bags and get back on the same plane, same seats. While I was sitting in the terminal though, a voice came up behind me and said, "Hey stranger!" I quickly thought to myself: I'm pretty sure I don't know anyone in Tokyo, who could this be?! But I turned around and was pleasantly surprised to see a mutual friend making the same trip, however she wisely went Denver to California. They were on the same plane to Bangkok, so that was cool, and we got to chat for a bit.
Get comfy kids, we've got another 7 hours to go before we hit Thailand, and then it still isn't over! After 12+ hours, I thought 7 would be a breeze--HA! I tossed and turned more than I ever have. It drives John crazy that I can't sit in the same position for more than five minutes, I wonder how it was sitting in the tiny seat next to me! I was so tired though, I actually fell asleep before we even took off and woke up somewhere over South Japan. Hmm...
We had six hours to kill in the Bangkok airport and walked around for a while at first. It was tiring, but felt good to get the blood flowing in our legs. We couldn't find a comfy spot to sit or lay down as I had hoped, but we cuddled up in a couple chairs and finished the movie we started when we left the States. It was cute (Couples Retreat) and gave me an opening to give John his Valentine's Day gift. We missed V-Day all together, but I still carried his present all the way here. :) Do I love him or what!? (Yes, yes I do.)
The transfer terminal opened at 5:00am this morning, so we stood in line to get the first stamps on our passports!! VERY EXCITING!!! We took a few cheesy pictures in the airport (to be posted on FB sometime soon,) and waited to board the plane for our last leg. There were several Buddhist monks that came and sat around us, and I quickly read up in one of our travel books (thank you A&G!) about them. They are quite intimidating, actually! Two of the monks sat across the aisle from us, and another was behind us. When the food cart came around, they received special trays. It was very interesting. The rest of us got an egg and chicken sandwich--not bad! The "dessert" that accompanied the food was actually very bad though. No thank you.
The flight was only an hour and got us into Chiang Mai right on time. We followed the signs (all have been in either Japanese/Thai AND English) and got to baggage claim and customs. By the grace of God, the one bag we checked made it to Chiang Mai with us. And then I turned around to see my friend waiting for us outside and I was one HAPPY GIRL!!! They waved us through customs (seriously) and we were on our way.
I have a cute cheesy picture of Becky driving us to the hotel. When you see it, you'll notice that she's on the other side of the car, and we're driving on the left side of the road. Call me ignorant, but I wasn't prepared for that. I kept wanting to correct her and get her on the right side of the street (like I sometimes have to do with John--kidding? no...) but she's very comfortable driving here. I asked her why there were even lines drawn on the road because the cars and motor bikes just meander all over. She delivered us safely at our hotel, and John promptly went to sleep. I called home and talked to Dad, then showered and am now blogging. I think that if I sleep now, I won't later, and I don't want to be on the wrong clock the whole time we're here.
So, that's where we are now. Long post? Yes. Long trip? YES. Oy...! Maybe I should just rest my eyesasdfajs;dkjfa;lskj.... whoops.
Our plane took off from Denver at 6:00am. This meant that my parents came to pick us up at 4:00am. When we were still packing for our trip at 2:30am, we knew we weren't going to sleep. In fact, I took a "power nap" for 25 minutes when John got in the shower, and it did more harm than good. Even our pets were fighting sleep and just wished that we would turn off the lights and go to bed. As I laid down for my nap at 2:30am, my kitty curled up next to me and even let me pull the blanket over him--that's a first. So I showered, packed the rest and my parents came right on time. Oy.
We made it to DIA in time to check our bag, grab McDonald's for breakfast and get to our gate. 2.5 hours to Chicago, no problem. For those of you playing along at home, YES, we went East just to turn around and go really far West. We had a couple of hours in the Chicago airport, which was just enough time to call the family, grab a Starbucks, and prepare ourselves for the long flight coming up. The plane was HUGE (thank goodness!) a 747 that would carry us over seas. I've never flown on a plane this big, and with all the traveling that John has done, he hadn't either. I promised my mom a call from the plane, and I told her that the first thing I saw when I stepped on board was a staircase--to the upper deck. She felt better about the flight, and honestly I did too.
13 hours ended up being just over 12, but still didn't go by as fast as we would have hoped. Oh. my. gosh. My back was wrecked (not great to begin with), my legs ached (yes, I got up to stretch and walk around,) and I used the bathroom twice (I don't use airplane toilets.) Ugh. We were fed twice, pumped with drinks, and slept oh-so-umcomfortably. The cool thing was that since we were headed to Tokyo, Japan first, all announcements were made in English and then Japanese. Neat! Oh, and we got an "apology card" from United because the movie wouldn't start. Yep, 12+ hours of looking at the map on big and little screens all over the plane. Whoopee. On one of my walks to stretch my legs, I saw that Business Class was watching The Office--no fair!! John and I started a movie on his laptop, but I had just taken an Advil PM, and the battery ran out just after I did anyway. (We finished it later, stay tuned).
A little over an hour in the Tokyo airport allowed us to use the bathroom, rearrange our carry-on bags and get back on the same plane, same seats. While I was sitting in the terminal though, a voice came up behind me and said, "Hey stranger!" I quickly thought to myself: I'm pretty sure I don't know anyone in Tokyo, who could this be?! But I turned around and was pleasantly surprised to see a mutual friend making the same trip, however she wisely went Denver to California. They were on the same plane to Bangkok, so that was cool, and we got to chat for a bit.
Get comfy kids, we've got another 7 hours to go before we hit Thailand, and then it still isn't over! After 12+ hours, I thought 7 would be a breeze--HA! I tossed and turned more than I ever have. It drives John crazy that I can't sit in the same position for more than five minutes, I wonder how it was sitting in the tiny seat next to me! I was so tired though, I actually fell asleep before we even took off and woke up somewhere over South Japan. Hmm...
We had six hours to kill in the Bangkok airport and walked around for a while at first. It was tiring, but felt good to get the blood flowing in our legs. We couldn't find a comfy spot to sit or lay down as I had hoped, but we cuddled up in a couple chairs and finished the movie we started when we left the States. It was cute (Couples Retreat) and gave me an opening to give John his Valentine's Day gift. We missed V-Day all together, but I still carried his present all the way here. :) Do I love him or what!? (Yes, yes I do.)
The transfer terminal opened at 5:00am this morning, so we stood in line to get the first stamps on our passports!! VERY EXCITING!!! We took a few cheesy pictures in the airport (to be posted on FB sometime soon,) and waited to board the plane for our last leg. There were several Buddhist monks that came and sat around us, and I quickly read up in one of our travel books (thank you A&G!) about them. They are quite intimidating, actually! Two of the monks sat across the aisle from us, and another was behind us. When the food cart came around, they received special trays. It was very interesting. The rest of us got an egg and chicken sandwich--not bad! The "dessert" that accompanied the food was actually very bad though. No thank you.
The flight was only an hour and got us into Chiang Mai right on time. We followed the signs (all have been in either Japanese/Thai AND English) and got to baggage claim and customs. By the grace of God, the one bag we checked made it to Chiang Mai with us. And then I turned around to see my friend waiting for us outside and I was one HAPPY GIRL!!! They waved us through customs (seriously) and we were on our way.
I have a cute cheesy picture of Becky driving us to the hotel. When you see it, you'll notice that she's on the other side of the car, and we're driving on the left side of the road. Call me ignorant, but I wasn't prepared for that. I kept wanting to correct her and get her on the right side of the street (like I sometimes have to do with John--kidding? no...) but she's very comfortable driving here. I asked her why there were even lines drawn on the road because the cars and motor bikes just meander all over. She delivered us safely at our hotel, and John promptly went to sleep. I called home and talked to Dad, then showered and am now blogging. I think that if I sleep now, I won't later, and I don't want to be on the wrong clock the whole time we're here.
So, that's where we are now. Long post? Yes. Long trip? YES. Oy...! Maybe I should just rest my eyesasdfajs;dkjfa;lskj.... whoops.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Trying something new...
For the past year, I have updated my Google Talk (IM) with "useless facts" (and pictures) from my daily desk calendar. I received the calendar at my previous company's "holiday" party last year (2008, rather). Previous and current co-workers have told me that they sign in daily to get the fact and learn. On days that I would be out of the office or forget to update it, I'd hear from them! How dare I deny them their useless knowledge!?
Such fun facts included: If you put a raisin in a glass of champagne, it will alternately keep floating to the top and sinking to the bottom.
Picture to accompany the fact:
This year, I didn't buy or receive a daily desk calendar of useless facts. What will they do!?! REVOLT!! Don't worry, I'm still going to update my Google Talk, and we'll see how it goes over... I'll be entering the Daily Verse I get from K-LOVE everyday, and filling their minds not with useless knowledge, but with fruitful knowledge!
Today's verse: Let the wise listen to these proverbs and become even wiser. Let those with understanding receive guidance Proverbs 1:5 NLT
I can only hope they'll hang on this as they all did the facts and humor, but we'll see. Lately I have been feeling the holy spirit call me to be a light to my co-workers and workplace. I have been convicted in my thoughts, actions and words, and feel that I need to spread God's love and be more of an example than a hypocrite. One of my favorite quotes is from DC Talk, "The great single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, then walk out the door and deny Him with their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelieveable." I don't want to live that quote!
This is a challenge and scary thing to tackle at work. I could use prayer for this daily, for the truth to shine in my heart and in my deeds.
Such fun facts included: If you put a raisin in a glass of champagne, it will alternately keep floating to the top and sinking to the bottom.
Picture to accompany the fact:
This year, I didn't buy or receive a daily desk calendar of useless facts. What will they do!?! REVOLT!! Don't worry, I'm still going to update my Google Talk, and we'll see how it goes over... I'll be entering the Daily Verse I get from K-LOVE everyday, and filling their minds not with useless knowledge, but with fruitful knowledge!
Today's verse: Let the wise listen to these proverbs and become even wiser. Let those with understanding receive guidance Proverbs 1:5 NLT
I can only hope they'll hang on this as they all did the facts and humor, but we'll see. Lately I have been feeling the holy spirit call me to be a light to my co-workers and workplace. I have been convicted in my thoughts, actions and words, and feel that I need to spread God's love and be more of an example than a hypocrite. One of my favorite quotes is from DC Talk, "The great single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, then walk out the door and deny Him with their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelieveable." I don't want to live that quote!
This is a challenge and scary thing to tackle at work. I could use prayer for this daily, for the truth to shine in my heart and in my deeds.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Bereavement leave for miscarriage?
Wow, I was challenged today at work. I mean, I'm really struggling with this one.
I received an email from a supervisor in our organization asking if bereavement leave could be used for an employee who recently miscarried. (For those not familiar with bereavement leave, it is time off that some companies provide after the loss of a family member.) As the leave of absence administrator for the hospital, I should be able to make that call. However, where do I draw the line between my personal beliefs and how the professional organization would handle such issues?
I thought it best to forward the issue to a Director within Human Resources whom I have worked closely with in the past and think very highly of. She just called me and said, "Yes, we've been working extensively on this case... what do you think?"
What do I think? "I think this woman just lost a child..." (and should be granted time off work!!)
She continues, "So, at what point do we count that? I mean, a viable pregnancy, when a baby could be delivered, is 22 weeks..."
I hesitated, "Right, but she was pregnant, I mean, she was with child, so..."
She went on, "Right, and I have been through this myself many years ago, and while there was a recovery process after the DNC, it was mostly physical and psychological recovery..." Um, did you not mourn your loss?
I urged, "I agree, so while she could use her sick leave and paid time off, she DID just lose a child, right?"
I fear I'm not being strong enough here.
She said, "Well, I'll pull you back in on this, we'll see what some other folks think too." Valid point. I get that. I mean, at the end of the day we do have a business to run. But part of me also does not understand why this is even a question!
She is going to set up a meeting on Monday with the hospital's chaplain. Maybe God's light can shine through this situation afterall.
I'll keep you posted.
I received an email from a supervisor in our organization asking if bereavement leave could be used for an employee who recently miscarried. (For those not familiar with bereavement leave, it is time off that some companies provide after the loss of a family member.) As the leave of absence administrator for the hospital, I should be able to make that call. However, where do I draw the line between my personal beliefs and how the professional organization would handle such issues?
I thought it best to forward the issue to a Director within Human Resources whom I have worked closely with in the past and think very highly of. She just called me and said, "Yes, we've been working extensively on this case... what do you think?"
What do I think? "I think this woman just lost a child..." (and should be granted time off work!!)
She continues, "So, at what point do we count that? I mean, a viable pregnancy, when a baby could be delivered, is 22 weeks..."
I hesitated, "Right, but she was pregnant, I mean, she was with child, so..."
She went on, "Right, and I have been through this myself many years ago, and while there was a recovery process after the DNC, it was mostly physical and psychological recovery..." Um, did you not mourn your loss?
I urged, "I agree, so while she could use her sick leave and paid time off, she DID just lose a child, right?"
I fear I'm not being strong enough here.
She said, "Well, I'll pull you back in on this, we'll see what some other folks think too." Valid point. I get that. I mean, at the end of the day we do have a business to run. But part of me also does not understand why this is even a question!
She is going to set up a meeting on Monday with the hospital's chaplain. Maybe God's light can shine through this situation afterall.
I'll keep you posted.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The fed-up-with-it-all FLU season
This flu season may just kill me.
Not because I get the flu, no... because of the debacle that is flu shots. There is a short supply—-everywhere. I work in the Employee Health department of the hospital and get to share in the joy of answering everyone's questions about the flu shots: do you have the flu shot... what about H1N1... when will you get more... can I get it... why can't I get it... BUT... what if I get it elsewhere... should I wear a mask... do you have the flu shot? do you have the flu shot? do you have the flu shot? ARRRRRRGHGHGHGHHHH!!!!
Mr. Employee, when I tell you that you can’t have the shot, it’s not that I don’t like you or that I’m lying to you, it’s because a) you are not a direct healthcare provider, b) you are too old/don’t qualify for the nasal mist (which is all we have right now), or c) we’re out of the injectible, which you have asked specifically for. Yes, please go call whatever higher power you feel will do any good—-we don’t have what you are looking for. I'm very sorry.
Don’t be rude.
Don’t yell at us.
Don’t storm out.
Don’t have your mom call (I'm not kidding.)
Simply shrug your shoulders, thank me for answering your question (and please do not ask if you can call here everyday for an update), and kindly walk away. Please watch your email for the MASS communication that will inevitably go out when more of the flu vaccine becomes available for our employees. (sigh)
All the pestering and dumb questions... believe me when I tell you that I really, truly DO love my job. It's just the people that are hard to deal with sometimes. Ha!
Not because I get the flu, no... because of the debacle that is flu shots. There is a short supply—-everywhere. I work in the Employee Health department of the hospital and get to share in the joy of answering everyone's questions about the flu shots: do you have the flu shot... what about H1N1... when will you get more... can I get it... why can't I get it... BUT... what if I get it elsewhere... should I wear a mask... do you have the flu shot? do you have the flu shot? do you have the flu shot? ARRRRRRGHGHGHGHHHH!!!!
Mr. Employee, when I tell you that you can’t have the shot, it’s not that I don’t like you or that I’m lying to you, it’s because a) you are not a direct healthcare provider, b) you are too old/don’t qualify for the nasal mist (which is all we have right now), or c) we’re out of the injectible, which you have asked specifically for. Yes, please go call whatever higher power you feel will do any good—-we don’t have what you are looking for. I'm very sorry.
Don’t be rude.
Don’t yell at us.
Don’t storm out.
Don’t have your mom call (I'm not kidding.)
Simply shrug your shoulders, thank me for answering your question (and please do not ask if you can call here everyday for an update), and kindly walk away. Please watch your email for the MASS communication that will inevitably go out when more of the flu vaccine becomes available for our employees. (sigh)
All the pestering and dumb questions... believe me when I tell you that I really, truly DO love my job. It's just the people that are hard to deal with sometimes. Ha!
Friday, October 2, 2009
Happy 2nd Anniversary to US!!
Two years, already!? Wow!! September 29, 2007 was one of the best days of my life so far... and each new day with John gets better and better.
This year we continued our tradition of going out for sushi on the night of our anniversary. This year we went to Sushi Den, one of the best sushi places in Denver; and I had not been to it before. The best sushi I ever had was in Kauai on our honeymoon, and John compared the quality of that to Sushi Den (at Sushi Basho prices--a small sushi place in downtown Littleton; good for the price!!) Anyway, he wasn't kidding, this was G-O-O-O-O-O-D. Mmm, mmm, MMM!! The server was awesome and brought us ice cream afterwards with a candle to wish on for our anniversary. Very sweet, and did I mention YUMMY?!
After dinner we continued the trend of spending our anniversary night in the same suite we spent our wedding night in at the Hilton Garden Inn in Highlands Ranch. The guy at the check-in desk was very sweet and said, "Well, I wasn't here last year when you two came, but I've heard about you... Happy Anniversary Mr. and Mrs. Stone." So cute!!
This year John surprised me with chocolate covered strawberries. And the hotel threw in champagne, too! John doesn't like champagne, so we brought it home to be used at a different occassion (anyone celebrating anything??)
The day after our anniversary we both take off work and spend the day together. That way, we can sleep in and enjoy a relaxing day. Usually we take advantage of the free breakfast at the hotel, but this year we went to NoNo's Cafe. We got there just in time to get breakfast--close call! My sister used to work at this restaurant and it's always fun to see the owners (her old bosses). They both came out to say "Hi" and are so sweet (both from New Orleans, still have their suthun' accents.)
After breakfast we headed West in hopes of getting a glimpse of the fall colors that Colorado does so well. Turns out it was a bit early for this, as we saw mostly green and yellows; there was very little orange or red. However, when we got into Evergreen and saw this, the drive was worth it:
The skies were beautiful, it was a very mild day; perfect weather to spend together.
We figured out that we were really close to the casinos, and while neither of us are gamblers, our old neighbors and good friends both work for a casino. "Let's surprise them!!" We found our way there and eventually met up with them. They both walked us around and showed off their place (he is Director of Compliance (kind of a big deal) and she is in charge of the wait staff, gift shop, and recently the new hotel opening.) It was fun to see them in their element and so proud of where they work. I lost a few bucks on a slot machine (not as much fun as they look), and John took a turn at a poker table... I think he prefers the video poker we play at restaurants with fake money. I'm just sayin'!!
We left the casino in time to make it home, change into our Rockies gear and make an evening game at Coors Field to watch our boys win. :) All in all, it was a GREAT day, fun anniversary, and good start to the third year.
This year we continued our tradition of going out for sushi on the night of our anniversary. This year we went to Sushi Den, one of the best sushi places in Denver; and I had not been to it before. The best sushi I ever had was in Kauai on our honeymoon, and John compared the quality of that to Sushi Den (at Sushi Basho prices--a small sushi place in downtown Littleton; good for the price!!) Anyway, he wasn't kidding, this was G-O-O-O-O-O-D. Mmm, mmm, MMM!! The server was awesome and brought us ice cream afterwards with a candle to wish on for our anniversary. Very sweet, and did I mention YUMMY?!
After dinner we continued the trend of spending our anniversary night in the same suite we spent our wedding night in at the Hilton Garden Inn in Highlands Ranch. The guy at the check-in desk was very sweet and said, "Well, I wasn't here last year when you two came, but I've heard about you... Happy Anniversary Mr. and Mrs. Stone." So cute!!
This year John surprised me with chocolate covered strawberries. And the hotel threw in champagne, too! John doesn't like champagne, so we brought it home to be used at a different occassion (anyone celebrating anything??)
The day after our anniversary we both take off work and spend the day together. That way, we can sleep in and enjoy a relaxing day. Usually we take advantage of the free breakfast at the hotel, but this year we went to NoNo's Cafe. We got there just in time to get breakfast--close call! My sister used to work at this restaurant and it's always fun to see the owners (her old bosses). They both came out to say "Hi" and are so sweet (both from New Orleans, still have their suthun' accents.)
After breakfast we headed West in hopes of getting a glimpse of the fall colors that Colorado does so well. Turns out it was a bit early for this, as we saw mostly green and yellows; there was very little orange or red. However, when we got into Evergreen and saw this, the drive was worth it:
The skies were beautiful, it was a very mild day; perfect weather to spend together.
We figured out that we were really close to the casinos, and while neither of us are gamblers, our old neighbors and good friends both work for a casino. "Let's surprise them!!" We found our way there and eventually met up with them. They both walked us around and showed off their place (he is Director of Compliance (kind of a big deal) and she is in charge of the wait staff, gift shop, and recently the new hotel opening.) It was fun to see them in their element and so proud of where they work. I lost a few bucks on a slot machine (not as much fun as they look), and John took a turn at a poker table... I think he prefers the video poker we play at restaurants with fake money. I'm just sayin'!!
We left the casino in time to make it home, change into our Rockies gear and make an evening game at Coors Field to watch our boys win. :) All in all, it was a GREAT day, fun anniversary, and good start to the third year.
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