I have a large family, lots of nieces and nephews and cousins, aunts and uncles, and more. The catch? A lot of my "family" is not biologically related to me. A good portion of the family is "adopted" (not legally, of course). It doesn't stop me from referring to them as sisters, brothers, nieces or nephews because I believe that family is about more than blood. In fact, I heard a great quote the other day that summed it up for me....
"Family isn't about sharing the same genetics, That's being related, Family is when you love someone to death, and You would do anything for them, You trust them, Take care of them, And in Return they do the same. Its the type of bond you hold together." -Tanya Bianco
The only word I'd add to this is "just." Family isn't JUST about sharing the same genetics. I don't want to completely write off blood relationships because, for a lot of people, blood relationships make the difference. There is a common tie that binds for a lot of families and it might just be that their common bloodline unites them. I can't speak for every family in this instance; I can only speak from my own experience. That's where the disagreement with the statement ends for me, though.
I do believe that loving someone, taking care of them, and trusting them are some of the most important parts of being a family. Family is NOT about convenience. It's about loving someone in the happiest of times and in the times when they're facing the most adversity. It's about being there for the giggles but also for the tears. It's about being there whether you live down the street or across the ocean. "Mom", "Dad," "Sister," "Brother"....they're not just terms to throw around for me. When I call someone my sister, it's not just a term of biology; it's a term of endearment and honor. It means that I love them with all of my heart and I'd do anything I could to help them whenever, whatever. It means that if they hurt my feelings, I'm not just going to write them off; I'm going to do my best to resolve the issue.
Let's face it: sometimes families, biological and otherwise, get into situations where the anger, frustration, sadness and mistrust just can't be resolved. They barely talk or might stop talking altogether and, in some cases, they might even bad-talk to other people about each other. Some families go on for generations with a war, of sorts, waged between siblings and their families. Sometimes this is a two-sided argument and sometimes it's just the anger and wrath of one person contributing to the entire situation. The fact is that none of that really matters when it comes down to it. Sometimes you just have to accept situations as they are, know that you don't have control over anyone else but yourself, let go of the past (for your own health and well-being) and move on with the people that love you and understand you for who you are.
Family is MORE than just a blood relationship; it's loving someone as they are.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Friday, June 14, 2013
"Wash your butt" and other things that only a mom says
I sat down today to discuss a few things with the crazies, not the least of which was the quickly disappearing shampoo and conditioner from the girls' shampoo. As a mom on a budget, I know exactly how much of various toiletries is required to make it through a month. I specifically made the purchase of pumps for the shampoo and conditioner the girls use to make certain that they were not pouring half the bottle in their hand every time they washed their hair. Mysteriously, the shampoo has been disappearing at a rapid rate and I've heard a whole lot of horseplay when the boys are showering. This, along with the encroachment of body odor from summer sweat, led me to have a discussion about hygiene and other topics. It definitely got me thinking about some of the phrases I say that are phrases that only a mom would probably say. Here are some of them:
1. The___________ is not a playground/jungle gym. The word "shower" can be interchanged with several others and still be a phrase that I use. The sofa is not a jungle gym. Your bed is not a trampoline. It all fits into the same mold. The fact that I had to explain this using the term "slip and fall on your butt", which sent rippling giggles throughout the room, is irrelevant.
2. The floor is not a slip and slide. Okay, I confess...I was guilty of trying the Pippi Longstocking floor-cleaning technique as a kid. I understand the entire room becomes a massive cloud of steam when there are four kids showering in a row and that you might discover the slippery floor can serve as an express train to get from one side of the room to the other. With that being said, additional lubrication of the floor is NOT okay...and is extremely unsafe.
3. You're gonna break your neck Again, this is one of those phrases I feel like I repeat over and over. Be careful so you don't break your neck/head! This is usually coupled with "I don't feel like spending the night in the emergency room" or "I don't want to hearing any fussing when...."
4. Don't come crying to me when..... This is the phrase I use when I'm warning them, or occasionally directly telling them, not to do something because it's going to have consequences. Examples include "If you're going to keep wrestling, don't come crying to me when you get hurt" or "If you won't put your toys again, don't come crying to me when they get lost."
5. I don't care what ______ gets to do because he/she is not my child If you're a parent of a school aged child, you've probably said this yourself. Apparently I have more rules than other neighborhood parents because I've been told that other kids get to get ice cream every single day from the ice cream man, don't have to look both ways EVERY time before crossing the stress, and that they get to have ice cream and candy whenever they want. I have yet to meet these children but I'm sure they're good friends with the also-fictional children "I don't know" and "I didn't do it."
6. Life's not fair...deal with it. This is mostly a phrase I have to repeat with my tween-age daughter who frequently likes to inform me how unfair I am. I'm unfair because I give them chores and I'm unfair because they have a bed time. I'm unfair because I make them help each other out on occasion and I'm unfair because I won't let her friends come over every waking minute of the day. "Fair" is a word that became re-defined when I had children....and I am not proactively practicing it apparently.
7. When I was a kid..... Yes, I'm that mom. When I was a kid, we got smacked with a wooden spoon when we misbehaved. When I was a kid, we got our mouths washed out with soap if we talked like that. When I was a kid, we sat on the floor instead of expecting adults to move when we were watching TV. When I was a kid, we were outside all the time until we HAD to come in. When I was a kid, we had to walk uphill both ways in 3 feet of snow.....Okay I haven't used that one (yet).
8. Wash your butt.... This one is far more frequently used with a tween-age son that is developing a serious case of B.O. It's simple fact...boys stink. I feel a little like Bill Cosby telling them step by step instructions for the shower:" Get in, turn on the water, wash completely...this includes behind your ears and in your armpits and for God's sake WASH YOUR BUTT!"
9. That is there...this is here....come HERE! This is the frequent answer to anyone who screams "Whhhaaaatttttttttt" across the house when I yell their name. Yes, I just screamed your name across the house to get your attention, probably because I'm busy and can't come to you. That does not mean continuously scream across the house asking me what I need over and over; it means come here and find out what I need while I am talking in my normal speaking voice.
10. Get up, shake it off.... Until I was a parent of multiple children, I didn't use this phrase. Now I'm more apt to tell them to "rub some dirt on it" than to tear off running in panic every time they skin their knee (and NO I don't actually have them rub dirt on it.) This is sometimes coupled with "dry it up" to exaggerated hypochondriacs looking for attention.
This certainly doesn't cover the entire selection of "mom only" phrases but it gives a general idea to how my household sounds. I'll cover the use of the word "potty" (and other mom phrases) when I have more time to post about the words that officially initiate you into mommy-hood.
1. The___________ is not a playground/jungle gym. The word "shower" can be interchanged with several others and still be a phrase that I use. The sofa is not a jungle gym. Your bed is not a trampoline. It all fits into the same mold. The fact that I had to explain this using the term "slip and fall on your butt", which sent rippling giggles throughout the room, is irrelevant.
2. The floor is not a slip and slide. Okay, I confess...I was guilty of trying the Pippi Longstocking floor-cleaning technique as a kid. I understand the entire room becomes a massive cloud of steam when there are four kids showering in a row and that you might discover the slippery floor can serve as an express train to get from one side of the room to the other. With that being said, additional lubrication of the floor is NOT okay...and is extremely unsafe.
3. You're gonna break your neck Again, this is one of those phrases I feel like I repeat over and over. Be careful so you don't break your neck/head! This is usually coupled with "I don't feel like spending the night in the emergency room" or "I don't want to hearing any fussing when...."
4. Don't come crying to me when..... This is the phrase I use when I'm warning them, or occasionally directly telling them, not to do something because it's going to have consequences. Examples include "If you're going to keep wrestling, don't come crying to me when you get hurt" or "If you won't put your toys again, don't come crying to me when they get lost."
5. I don't care what ______ gets to do because he/she is not my child If you're a parent of a school aged child, you've probably said this yourself. Apparently I have more rules than other neighborhood parents because I've been told that other kids get to get ice cream every single day from the ice cream man, don't have to look both ways EVERY time before crossing the stress, and that they get to have ice cream and candy whenever they want. I have yet to meet these children but I'm sure they're good friends with the also-fictional children "I don't know" and "I didn't do it."
6. Life's not fair...deal with it. This is mostly a phrase I have to repeat with my tween-age daughter who frequently likes to inform me how unfair I am. I'm unfair because I give them chores and I'm unfair because they have a bed time. I'm unfair because I make them help each other out on occasion and I'm unfair because I won't let her friends come over every waking minute of the day. "Fair" is a word that became re-defined when I had children....and I am not proactively practicing it apparently.
7. When I was a kid..... Yes, I'm that mom. When I was a kid, we got smacked with a wooden spoon when we misbehaved. When I was a kid, we got our mouths washed out with soap if we talked like that. When I was a kid, we sat on the floor instead of expecting adults to move when we were watching TV. When I was a kid, we were outside all the time until we HAD to come in. When I was a kid, we had to walk uphill both ways in 3 feet of snow.....Okay I haven't used that one (yet).
8. Wash your butt.... This one is far more frequently used with a tween-age son that is developing a serious case of B.O. It's simple fact...boys stink. I feel a little like Bill Cosby telling them step by step instructions for the shower:" Get in, turn on the water, wash completely...this includes behind your ears and in your armpits and for God's sake WASH YOUR BUTT!"
9. That is there...this is here....come HERE! This is the frequent answer to anyone who screams "Whhhaaaatttttttttt" across the house when I yell their name. Yes, I just screamed your name across the house to get your attention, probably because I'm busy and can't come to you. That does not mean continuously scream across the house asking me what I need over and over; it means come here and find out what I need while I am talking in my normal speaking voice.
10. Get up, shake it off.... Until I was a parent of multiple children, I didn't use this phrase. Now I'm more apt to tell them to "rub some dirt on it" than to tear off running in panic every time they skin their knee (and NO I don't actually have them rub dirt on it.) This is sometimes coupled with "dry it up" to exaggerated hypochondriacs looking for attention.
This certainly doesn't cover the entire selection of "mom only" phrases but it gives a general idea to how my household sounds. I'll cover the use of the word "potty" (and other mom phrases) when I have more time to post about the words that officially initiate you into mommy-hood.
Brotherly Love and Expectations
I talked to another mom friend of mine yesterday, who happens to be a psychologist, about some of the crazy stuff my boys have been pulling lately. She gave me the usual lines about them "just being kids" and how "if you compare it to other kids their age, I should be grateful they're not doing worse stuff." She also used the line I hate other moms saying to me the most: "It's not THAT big of a deal." Well, it IS to me. Just like I didn't use other people's expectations for my kids about exactly when they should walk, talk, or start reading, I don't use other people's expectations for their behavior. I have an achievable expectation of them: be polite, follow the rules, and treat people how you want to be treated. Repeated offenses of disobeying one particular rule is going to earn you a more severe punishment, period. I honestly believe it's preparing them for the world to understand that they won't always be able to get away with "they're just young" or "well, other people are doing worse things." I wouldn't get away with a traffic ticket just because there are murderers out on the streets doing worse things than me. Perhaps I am a little more of a strict parent than some but I have four (most of the time) respectful, kind, empathetic children that I'm not afraid to take out in public so I must be doing something right.
With all that being said, she DID say something that made sense and opened my eyes to something I hadn't thought of before. I told her that I can't understand why the boys are constantly getting in trouble for horsing around instead of doing what they're told. They're supposed to put pajamas on and I find them wrestling and throwing stuffed animals at each other. They're supposed to clean their room and I find them dueling with light sabers. What she said to me rang completely true: "Those boys are best friends. It's like having a sleepover at your house all the time." Dramatic pause....sigh. She's right. They are best friends. Even when one plays with a friend, they like to include the other one. Being so close in age and having their personality types makes them play really well together and they honestly are best friends. It totally changed my perspective from feeling like they're just not listening to me to thinking of how I would function if my best friends were over all the time.....and let me tell you, it's given me a new understanding and a new way of approaching it.
With all that being said, she DID say something that made sense and opened my eyes to something I hadn't thought of before. I told her that I can't understand why the boys are constantly getting in trouble for horsing around instead of doing what they're told. They're supposed to put pajamas on and I find them wrestling and throwing stuffed animals at each other. They're supposed to clean their room and I find them dueling with light sabers. What she said to me rang completely true: "Those boys are best friends. It's like having a sleepover at your house all the time." Dramatic pause....sigh. She's right. They are best friends. Even when one plays with a friend, they like to include the other one. Being so close in age and having their personality types makes them play really well together and they honestly are best friends. It totally changed my perspective from feeling like they're just not listening to me to thinking of how I would function if my best friends were over all the time.....and let me tell you, it's given me a new understanding and a new way of approaching it.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Leg shaving and teenage drama
I know I'm probably an unrealistic parent when it came to the appropriate timing for teaching my pre-teen daughter how to shave but my theory was always that when it was necessary, I'd know. Maybe there's an age limit that I didn't know about. Maybe I should have done it sooner, who knows? All I knew was that I didn't want her to have to deal with the stigma of going into junior high with hairy legs when she loves to wear skirts and dresses.
I splurged and bought the aloe-lined fancy razor that helps prevents nicking your legs. I splurged and bought the fancy shaving gel that is extra moisturizing and smells pretty. I prepped her on how to actually complete the process and anxiously waited outside the bathroom for her to begin the task. I kept peeking my head into the steamy bathroom, asking through the shower curtain, "Is everything okay?" She kept assuring me that she was getting ready to start and then it happened....
The scream she let out sounded like Janet Leigh in "Psycho". Having been lingering around the door in case there was a question, I rushed my post-surgical body into the bathroom as quickly as I could and heard the sniffling, bawling mess that had replaced my daughter. A million thoughts went through my mind at once: Did I start this too soon? Should I have done this when she wasn't in the shower so I can help her more? Did she slice an artery? I shouted through the curtain to her asking her what had happened and she peered out, bawling and afraid.
"Mom, I cut myself...." Fully preparing myself for a gash the size of a C-section scar, I braced myself for impact as she slid her leg out and showed me the teeny, tiny nick in the back of her ankle. Relief......thank goodness. It's just a nick.....but it wasn't just a nick to her. This was a dramatic situation, one that called for immediate medical intervention to the nth degree. I had to coax her to get her to finish shaving her legs before we dealt with the tiny nick, which was already beginning to clot on its own. With incredibly dramatic flourish, she hurried through the shaving process, avoiding further trauma but leaving most of the leg hair untouched.
She got out of the shower, got her pajamas on in privacy and, pitifully, opened the bathroom door, still wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. She solemnly informed me that her injury had required only two bandaids and some medical tape to repair it. She also informed me that she might need to ice it because it was "really painful." She cradled that ankle and limped for the remainder of the night as though she'd experienced a skiing accident that had severed a tendon but quickly forgot about it by the next day when the sprinkler came out. So with tiny streaks of bare skin between the stripes of leg hair left by the traumatic rush of injury, she donned her bathing suit and ran like the wind through the sprinkler all afternoon.
We're still working on the concept of shaving her legs again. She's somewhat understandably stricken by the desire to avoid the tiny bee-sting pain of a nick again. She's definitely understanding that unless she is bleeding or on fire, screaming like she's being murdered is not an option at any point in time. I've had to write off leg-shaving like I wrote off her younger sister's blankie addiction; when it's time for her to do it (or in Syd's case, to let it go), she'll do it. If she chooses to brave the Gillette world again in the near future, fantastic! If she chooses to brave the world of middle school with legs that look like the body wax scene from "The 40 Year Old Virgin", so be it. It's entirely possible that there will be a dramatic experience that comes with every shaving experience for the next six months along with a war tale that will told for weeks at a time. With that being said, I had to write this off to teenage drama and move on with my day, choosing to keep my sanity over concern about body hair and bandaids.
I splurged and bought the aloe-lined fancy razor that helps prevents nicking your legs. I splurged and bought the fancy shaving gel that is extra moisturizing and smells pretty. I prepped her on how to actually complete the process and anxiously waited outside the bathroom for her to begin the task. I kept peeking my head into the steamy bathroom, asking through the shower curtain, "Is everything okay?" She kept assuring me that she was getting ready to start and then it happened....
The scream she let out sounded like Janet Leigh in "Psycho". Having been lingering around the door in case there was a question, I rushed my post-surgical body into the bathroom as quickly as I could and heard the sniffling, bawling mess that had replaced my daughter. A million thoughts went through my mind at once: Did I start this too soon? Should I have done this when she wasn't in the shower so I can help her more? Did she slice an artery? I shouted through the curtain to her asking her what had happened and she peered out, bawling and afraid.
"Mom, I cut myself...." Fully preparing myself for a gash the size of a C-section scar, I braced myself for impact as she slid her leg out and showed me the teeny, tiny nick in the back of her ankle. Relief......thank goodness. It's just a nick.....but it wasn't just a nick to her. This was a dramatic situation, one that called for immediate medical intervention to the nth degree. I had to coax her to get her to finish shaving her legs before we dealt with the tiny nick, which was already beginning to clot on its own. With incredibly dramatic flourish, she hurried through the shaving process, avoiding further trauma but leaving most of the leg hair untouched.
She got out of the shower, got her pajamas on in privacy and, pitifully, opened the bathroom door, still wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. She solemnly informed me that her injury had required only two bandaids and some medical tape to repair it. She also informed me that she might need to ice it because it was "really painful." She cradled that ankle and limped for the remainder of the night as though she'd experienced a skiing accident that had severed a tendon but quickly forgot about it by the next day when the sprinkler came out. So with tiny streaks of bare skin between the stripes of leg hair left by the traumatic rush of injury, she donned her bathing suit and ran like the wind through the sprinkler all afternoon.
We're still working on the concept of shaving her legs again. She's somewhat understandably stricken by the desire to avoid the tiny bee-sting pain of a nick again. She's definitely understanding that unless she is bleeding or on fire, screaming like she's being murdered is not an option at any point in time. I've had to write off leg-shaving like I wrote off her younger sister's blankie addiction; when it's time for her to do it (or in Syd's case, to let it go), she'll do it. If she chooses to brave the Gillette world again in the near future, fantastic! If she chooses to brave the world of middle school with legs that look like the body wax scene from "The 40 Year Old Virgin", so be it. It's entirely possible that there will be a dramatic experience that comes with every shaving experience for the next six months along with a war tale that will told for weeks at a time. With that being said, I had to write this off to teenage drama and move on with my day, choosing to keep my sanity over concern about body hair and bandaids.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Don't Take It For Granted
There's an expression that says "You don't know what you have until it's gone" and I believe it to be completely true with a lot of people. In the Age of Entitlement that we currently live in, it seems that a lot of people simply aren't happy with what they have for very long. If you have a 32" flat screen TV, you want the 60". If you have the 3 bedroom, 2 bath house, you want the 4 bedroom 3 bath house with a basement. If Jessica Biel gets a huge wedding ring then clearly your wedding ring is just not big enough or fancy enough anymore. Even worse, there's a whole lot of "Well Susie Q's husband gives her foot massages every night...why don't YOU do that?" OR "Well SHE gets to work more ideal hours at HER job. My job isn't nearly as good." The grass is always greener, so to speak.
My biggest "I took it for granted" that I didn't realize until it was long gone was being a stay at home mom (freelancer but largely focused on stay at home mom-dom). There's a whole lot that I miss about it and, in a completely ideal world, I would have a job that allowed me to "work from home" and be a stay at home mom again. So if you're taking it for granted, here are some of the great things about being a stay at home mom (and don't take this to mean there aren't perks to being a working mom too...one topic at a time).
1. Time with the kids. Pure and simple, time with the kids is the biggest benefit that I miss. I definitely learned to prioritize my time with my kids as a working mama but I miss just being able to spend an entire day relaxing with the kids in my PJ's watching movies. Sure, it didn't happen often but it was incredibly nice to be able to "wing it" a bit more with my time with the kids instead of having to plan it out.
2. Exploring New Activities That is a big vague but here's what I mean...I live in an incredible state with so many great outdoor activities and so much to see and do. I read about all of these things and yet, I have to prioritize where I can go and to what activities I have the time to go to. I would love to take my kids to Greek Festival or for a weekend at Rocky Mountain National Park just exploring. I'd love to hike a 14'er with them or take them to the zoo more often to watch the baby animals grow. There are so many things I'd like to do and I miss being able to use summer break for exploring....not just a couple of days of exploring.
3. Time to Take My Time I miss just being able to take my time. Everything is about scheduling from cleaning the house to going to the library to grocery shopping. While I had to schedule when my kids were still nappers, it was a bit easier. Now it's so complicated because there's so much more to cram into so much less time.
4. Being With Them When They're Sick Yes, I know this doesn't sound appealing to a lot of people but it is something that I wish I could do again. As a mom that works outside the home, I often don't have the flexibility to be able to be with them when they're sick. While I appreciate the people who are there to help me out with them, there's nothing more in this world I want than to cuddle my little guys when they're sick. I want to be the one that makes them feel better.
5. Volunteering/Involvement I miss being able to be the mom that's always at their school. I miss being able to volunteer for all of the room parties and being a more active part of the PTA. This is self-explanatory.
6. The Ability to Let THEM be involved. This is a sports/activities thing more than anything. I want so badly to let them be involved in after-school sports and activities but money and time don't allow it currently. I miss the ability to help this to be a possibility.
7. Cooking from Scratch. I miss having the extra time involved in cooking from scratch instead of pre-packaged things. While I sometimes have the time for this now, I miss knowing that I could spend all day occasionally stirring the spaghetti sauce instead of worrying that I need to open a jar when I get home. I took it for granted back then but it really is something I miss.
Of course, no one has 100% ideal and the grass is always greener to some extent. These are just some of the things I miss and, if offered a job where I could be at home 95% of the time and spend more time with the kids while still making the money necessary to raise a family, etc, I'd be on it like a shark on a school of fish at feeding time. If the powers that be decide to give me that privilege again, I know for certain I would not take it for granted this time around and I would make it count every second. I guess my lesson in all of this is not to look at the neighbor's lawn (figuratively speaking) but to focus on making your lawn greener and more healthy no matter how meager it may seem to you.
My biggest "I took it for granted" that I didn't realize until it was long gone was being a stay at home mom (freelancer but largely focused on stay at home mom-dom). There's a whole lot that I miss about it and, in a completely ideal world, I would have a job that allowed me to "work from home" and be a stay at home mom again. So if you're taking it for granted, here are some of the great things about being a stay at home mom (and don't take this to mean there aren't perks to being a working mom too...one topic at a time).
1. Time with the kids. Pure and simple, time with the kids is the biggest benefit that I miss. I definitely learned to prioritize my time with my kids as a working mama but I miss just being able to spend an entire day relaxing with the kids in my PJ's watching movies. Sure, it didn't happen often but it was incredibly nice to be able to "wing it" a bit more with my time with the kids instead of having to plan it out.
2. Exploring New Activities That is a big vague but here's what I mean...I live in an incredible state with so many great outdoor activities and so much to see and do. I read about all of these things and yet, I have to prioritize where I can go and to what activities I have the time to go to. I would love to take my kids to Greek Festival or for a weekend at Rocky Mountain National Park just exploring. I'd love to hike a 14'er with them or take them to the zoo more often to watch the baby animals grow. There are so many things I'd like to do and I miss being able to use summer break for exploring....not just a couple of days of exploring.
3. Time to Take My Time I miss just being able to take my time. Everything is about scheduling from cleaning the house to going to the library to grocery shopping. While I had to schedule when my kids were still nappers, it was a bit easier. Now it's so complicated because there's so much more to cram into so much less time.
4. Being With Them When They're Sick Yes, I know this doesn't sound appealing to a lot of people but it is something that I wish I could do again. As a mom that works outside the home, I often don't have the flexibility to be able to be with them when they're sick. While I appreciate the people who are there to help me out with them, there's nothing more in this world I want than to cuddle my little guys when they're sick. I want to be the one that makes them feel better.
5. Volunteering/Involvement I miss being able to be the mom that's always at their school. I miss being able to volunteer for all of the room parties and being a more active part of the PTA. This is self-explanatory.
6. The Ability to Let THEM be involved. This is a sports/activities thing more than anything. I want so badly to let them be involved in after-school sports and activities but money and time don't allow it currently. I miss the ability to help this to be a possibility.
7. Cooking from Scratch. I miss having the extra time involved in cooking from scratch instead of pre-packaged things. While I sometimes have the time for this now, I miss knowing that I could spend all day occasionally stirring the spaghetti sauce instead of worrying that I need to open a jar when I get home. I took it for granted back then but it really is something I miss.
Of course, no one has 100% ideal and the grass is always greener to some extent. These are just some of the things I miss and, if offered a job where I could be at home 95% of the time and spend more time with the kids while still making the money necessary to raise a family, etc, I'd be on it like a shark on a school of fish at feeding time. If the powers that be decide to give me that privilege again, I know for certain I would not take it for granted this time around and I would make it count every second. I guess my lesson in all of this is not to look at the neighbor's lawn (figuratively speaking) but to focus on making your lawn greener and more healthy no matter how meager it may seem to you.
Surgical Leave
I've had quite a long break from blogging, in large part because I've been on surgical leave. A few weeks ago, I had a hysterectomy done to remove my uterus and fallopian tubes. I did it strictly because my IUD was lodged in and had perforated my uterus. Thankfully they were able to leave my ovaries so that I didn't have to suffer through early menopause. Thankfully, they were able to do it without going through my abdomen so I wasn't having to recover from abdominal incisions as well. So here's the short list of what I've learned from this process....
1. Regardless of what a doctor promises at the time, they can NOT tell you with absolute certainty that something is completely safe. When my IUD was put in, I was assured by my doctor that it was completely safe (and yes, that phrase was used by my OB/GYN at the time). I was assured that he had put in hundreds of these and that the only complication he'd ever seen was the IUD falling out. I'm not blaming him. That might have been the case. They handed me the literature and I read it knowing that uterine perforation was, indeed, a risk. I took that information, though, and piled it in with a physician that told me it was "completely safe" to make my decision. I can tell you, with great certainty, how careful I am about researching things since then. I've actually been in debates with my children's pediatrician over some issues based on being told that it was "perfectly safe." It taught me a great lesson.
2. Sometimes the best laid plans go awry. I got the IUD put in to prevent further pregnancies (obviously) and thought that the benefits of localized hormones, etc would be worth it. Instead, I suffered incredibly awful side effects and a subsequent surgery that sterilized me because of it. At 32 years old, I would not plan to have a sterilization procedure of this magnitude done for no reason at all. In fact, I don't know a lot of people that would choose a hysterectomy at 32 years old. Sometimes the plans you make don't work out the way that you think they will.
3. My doctor is a hoot! There are some things I love about this state and my doctor is one of them. She is hysterical. She's blunt and very realistic but she does it in an incredibly fun way. Even my boyfriend was about to lose it listening to her post-surgery.
4. When the doctor says "unexpected fatigue", she means it. I was released back to work after 2 weeks with restrictions and my first day back brought a half hour of work and then BAM, passed out on the sidewalk after barely any exertion. No matter how superwoman-ish (a new word...I think so) I think I am, my body still needs time to fully recover.
5. Boredom is inevitable when recovering. I should probably be reveling in the "free time" but I'm busy being irritated that I can't lift, vacuum, or do what I'd normally do. I finally was able to suntan yesterday for awhile and read a book but I spend a lot more time wishing I could do more without feeling like crap when I do. I'm certainly not whining...just stating the obvious. Boredom is inevitable.
6. Pain meds are no fun. After having them prescribed and barely taking any, I can say with a smile that pain meds SUCK! I'm sure they're great for some people but with a tolerance like mine (extremely minimal), they suck. Not only are they sleep-inducing and constipating but they're largely (at least for me) not any more effective than ibuprofen at pain relief. I much preferred the heating pad and relaxation to pain meds.
7. People say some crazy stuff when under anesthesia. I won't get into the details here but let's just say that I'm well informed on the stuff I muttered under anesthesia and while I vaguely remember some things, most of it is completely blank to me...and that's okay. I am apparently very hyper-sensitive to anesthesia of any type. I felt out of my head for nearly the whole day post-surgery. All I could think after was, "So that's what it's like to be high..." (Hahaha)
With at least one more week of recovery before returning to work (again), I'm going to try to make the best of it. I'm glad to have the surgery done and my body on its way to the recovery it truly needs (without an IUD wreaking havoc on my body). Hopefully this will open the door for more frequent blogging.
1. Regardless of what a doctor promises at the time, they can NOT tell you with absolute certainty that something is completely safe. When my IUD was put in, I was assured by my doctor that it was completely safe (and yes, that phrase was used by my OB/GYN at the time). I was assured that he had put in hundreds of these and that the only complication he'd ever seen was the IUD falling out. I'm not blaming him. That might have been the case. They handed me the literature and I read it knowing that uterine perforation was, indeed, a risk. I took that information, though, and piled it in with a physician that told me it was "completely safe" to make my decision. I can tell you, with great certainty, how careful I am about researching things since then. I've actually been in debates with my children's pediatrician over some issues based on being told that it was "perfectly safe." It taught me a great lesson.
2. Sometimes the best laid plans go awry. I got the IUD put in to prevent further pregnancies (obviously) and thought that the benefits of localized hormones, etc would be worth it. Instead, I suffered incredibly awful side effects and a subsequent surgery that sterilized me because of it. At 32 years old, I would not plan to have a sterilization procedure of this magnitude done for no reason at all. In fact, I don't know a lot of people that would choose a hysterectomy at 32 years old. Sometimes the plans you make don't work out the way that you think they will.
3. My doctor is a hoot! There are some things I love about this state and my doctor is one of them. She is hysterical. She's blunt and very realistic but she does it in an incredibly fun way. Even my boyfriend was about to lose it listening to her post-surgery.
4. When the doctor says "unexpected fatigue", she means it. I was released back to work after 2 weeks with restrictions and my first day back brought a half hour of work and then BAM, passed out on the sidewalk after barely any exertion. No matter how superwoman-ish (a new word...I think so) I think I am, my body still needs time to fully recover.
5. Boredom is inevitable when recovering. I should probably be reveling in the "free time" but I'm busy being irritated that I can't lift, vacuum, or do what I'd normally do. I finally was able to suntan yesterday for awhile and read a book but I spend a lot more time wishing I could do more without feeling like crap when I do. I'm certainly not whining...just stating the obvious. Boredom is inevitable.
6. Pain meds are no fun. After having them prescribed and barely taking any, I can say with a smile that pain meds SUCK! I'm sure they're great for some people but with a tolerance like mine (extremely minimal), they suck. Not only are they sleep-inducing and constipating but they're largely (at least for me) not any more effective than ibuprofen at pain relief. I much preferred the heating pad and relaxation to pain meds.
7. People say some crazy stuff when under anesthesia. I won't get into the details here but let's just say that I'm well informed on the stuff I muttered under anesthesia and while I vaguely remember some things, most of it is completely blank to me...and that's okay. I am apparently very hyper-sensitive to anesthesia of any type. I felt out of my head for nearly the whole day post-surgery. All I could think after was, "So that's what it's like to be high..." (Hahaha)
With at least one more week of recovery before returning to work (again), I'm going to try to make the best of it. I'm glad to have the surgery done and my body on its way to the recovery it truly needs (without an IUD wreaking havoc on my body). Hopefully this will open the door for more frequent blogging.
Boobs
Since it's been awhile since my last post, I'm covering a few different topics (with a few different posts) in one day. This one is about boobs. There is a certain celebrity who has insured her "rack" that recently announced she was pregnant. I confess that I adore her in every single interview I've ever seen her in. The PMS monster side of me (yes, ladies, you know what I'm talking to) wants to scratch her eyes out for being sweet, smart, funny, AND beautiful but it's hard to hate someone who's so loveable. My first comment when I heard about it was "Welcome to the saggy boob club." Yes, moms, you know what I'm talking about. If you're above the age of 35 OR you've had a child (especially one you've breastfed), you may as well kiss those perky cute ones goodbye. They may get bigger but they are NOT getting better. Let's face it. It's not a terrible thing, for the most part. It's sort of like initiation into the mothering club. I take solace in knowing that those not-so-perky pecs are what nourished my children from their very first meal to whatever point I stopped nursing. They're not much but they're mine.
The hard question a lot of us face seems to be what to do with these less-than-perfect lady humps in our self-conscious moments. Some women choose to go the "fix-it" route. I've considered it myself and I'd love to say that it's a moral issue but it's more of a money and "fear of needles" issue...mostly money. (Hahaha) Some women choose to complain about them constantly and live in denial. Most of us choose the "accept it and deal" method: they don't have to be perfect for any of us that choose this method. We simply don't have the time to focus on this detail of our life all that often. It's not that we might not TAKE the "fix it" route if it was offered to us; it's simply that we haven't had that opportunity offered to us (though some of us would refuse the route either way).
The bigger question is why everyone is so fixated on having to have the perfect body. I watch all these movies from the 80's and there were a lot of "flat chested" women in these movies that were still considered to be stunning. That seems to be absent in a lot (not all, but a lot) of movies now. It's almost like a prerequisite that large breasts are considered beautiful. It's the same premise as women often being too thin, but that's a whole different topic. Men are fixated on breasts for their own reasons and different men have different viewpoints on the perfect size (some more unrealistic than others). Women seem to have become equally as fixated on perfection when it comes to their ta-ta's and how theirs aren't perfect. The obvious answer is that it's the media fixation for perfection but I'm sure there's some psychological answer that's deeper. My post is not an exploratory post but more of an observation.
So here's to the boobs of the world: big and small, perky and not-so-perky, every shape and size....may they always puzzle and entertain as they do now.
The hard question a lot of us face seems to be what to do with these less-than-perfect lady humps in our self-conscious moments. Some women choose to go the "fix-it" route. I've considered it myself and I'd love to say that it's a moral issue but it's more of a money and "fear of needles" issue...mostly money. (Hahaha) Some women choose to complain about them constantly and live in denial. Most of us choose the "accept it and deal" method: they don't have to be perfect for any of us that choose this method. We simply don't have the time to focus on this detail of our life all that often. It's not that we might not TAKE the "fix it" route if it was offered to us; it's simply that we haven't had that opportunity offered to us (though some of us would refuse the route either way).
The bigger question is why everyone is so fixated on having to have the perfect body. I watch all these movies from the 80's and there were a lot of "flat chested" women in these movies that were still considered to be stunning. That seems to be absent in a lot (not all, but a lot) of movies now. It's almost like a prerequisite that large breasts are considered beautiful. It's the same premise as women often being too thin, but that's a whole different topic. Men are fixated on breasts for their own reasons and different men have different viewpoints on the perfect size (some more unrealistic than others). Women seem to have become equally as fixated on perfection when it comes to their ta-ta's and how theirs aren't perfect. The obvious answer is that it's the media fixation for perfection but I'm sure there's some psychological answer that's deeper. My post is not an exploratory post but more of an observation.
So here's to the boobs of the world: big and small, perky and not-so-perky, every shape and size....may they always puzzle and entertain as they do now.
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