The Gift You Can't Buy

Picture it.  We just got done at an hour long session of Kicks for Kids (a soccer program) at the local YMCA.  We are hungry, tired.  We stop at Burger King for something quick.  Madison spills her BBQ sauce, starts screaming at the top of her lungs, moaning that we might as well just throw her dinner out the window for God's sake (those were her EXACT words).  We have to giggle, which only infuriates this overtired 5-year-old even more.  It is mass chaos all confined in a Mitsubishi Lancer.  Ironically enough, it is this very family that I had decided was more important and precious to me than working a seasonal job.

For the past several years I have worked during the Christmas season in order to make extra spending cash for the holidays.  It meant 16 hours days sometimes and many nights away from home, but Christmas morning the tree was always surrounded in mounds of gifts.  It was always what I had grown up with...my Dad worked 80 hour weeks and we were spoiled rotten every Christmas.  Christmases are some of my fondest childhood memories.  My parents bent over backwards to make it the most wonderful time of the year. 

My dad now has cancer, a cancer that we suspect is a result of the exposure to chemicals in his workplace over twenty some years.  He now looks back in regrets to working all that time for material things.  Yet here I am repeating the same mistake year after year. 

I loved my seasonal job last year.  It was at the mall, with all the hustle and bustle of holiday shopping.  Christmas music playing in the background, awesome co-workers, simple work.  I actually got excited when I got my paperwork in the mail and it was part of my holiday excitement. 

I don't know what happened today but I had a mini panic attack over starting a second job.  Maybe it's the fact that I always feel tired.  Or the fact that my house looks like a tornado blew threw it.  Or the fact that my kids are growing up before my very eyes and time with them is priceless.  If I have learned anything over the past year it's that life is fragile and fleeting.  You never know when you will lose someone you love or even when your last breath will be.  No one should live as if tomorrow is guaranteed.  I am not suggesting we quit our jobs to pursue our buckets lists, but I am saying make enough to pay your bills and live life with clothes on your back but other than that ENJOY LIFE. 

I talked to a few close people to get their perspective on it all.  Of course, I cried after getting off the phone with my dad.  In retrospect, I would give up all the material things to have spent more time appreciating moments together.  I really just needed him to cement those emotions for me and reinforce the decision my heart had already made. 

So I sat down tonight, made my lists and checked it twice.  I budgeted everything out and I can do this.  I cut back on a few material things.  I will be clipping coupons and sale shopping everything but I am going to bake cookies, drive around to look at lights, go for a ride on the Polar Express, watch every single Christmas show on TV and just soak up every moment of the holidays with my family.  Maybe there won't be flowing heaps under the tree, but there will be gifts for everyone and there will be love and laughter and memories. 

Last but not least, I need to stop biting off more than I can chew.  I work full time, I am raising two girls, I have a husband, a home and a body that requires exercise and rest.  I am making myself a priorty again.  That is a gift that you just can not buy!

The Answer to Achieving World Peace

Men are the more fortunate sex.  Anyone who disagrees is sure to have a penis.  Men are clueless when it comes to what it's like to be a woman.  The do not have uteruses that collapse once a month and their bodies are never Human cannons that propel out balls of babies.  Argument won.

Just for this blog's sake, I want to dive deeper into what it's like to be a woman.  Let's start with hygiene.  Men, you complain about when we hibernate from the razor for the winter.  We deal with your body hair 24/7, 365 days a year.  How is that any different?  And please, do release your secret about how it never bothers you to have your leg hair rub against your pants or catch on the bedsheets.  That IS the only reason we cave and shave.  Or maybe for just five more minutes of peace and quiet in the shower. 

While we are on the subject of the shower, FYI:  it is the only time that we are truly "alone".  It's why there are locks on bathroom doors.  We honestly are crying on the inside when you "slip" inside the shower with us.  Sex in the shower is just not fun as a woman.  It's slippery, someone is going to break an arm, the water is pouring in our faces and we are slowly drowning, emotionally and physically.  I have a close friend who I was once complaining about this with and she pointed out that unless you have a HUGE walk in shower, sex in the shower is just not practical.  Her husband (a bigger guy) and her were showering together while she was pregnant.  They tried to switch spots so he could be under the shower head to rinse off.  Mid-switch he lost his balance, flipped backwards out of the shower, taking the shower curtain with him, slid across the floor and finally came to a stop when his head hit the wall, legs up in the air with everything just on display.  She could not stop laughing to ask if he was okay.  Either could I as she told me about it. 

The only bad thing about a long shower is wondering what we will find when we finally emerge.  Especially if football is on, we know you are not paying attention to the kids.  It takes two to make a baby, but in most homes I know of it's a 70-30 parenting balance.  I should not have to "check with you" on if you are available to "babysit" your own kids when I have something I want/need to do unless you do the same with me.  Hunting season is not an automatic hall pass to get out of ever being home with the kids.  I do continue having a life mid-October to mid-December, believe it or not.  Also going to buy groceries for the family does not fall under the category of retail therapy or count towards "me" time.  And if the kids are tagging along, shopping is not fun in any way or form.

Granted that if I ask my husband to make dinner, help out with bedtime or run the kids somewhere he is generally pretty good about it.  However, I should not have to ask!  No one asks me to make dinner, to do laundry, to clean the house.  I just do it.   Just because we are woman does not mean that it is our duty to make dinner, do dishes, vacuum and put the kids to bed after bath time.  And by all means if we take ten minutes to sit braless in our pjs in the recliner with uncombed hair, unbrushed teeth and no makeup do not tell us that you think we are letting ourselves "go".  My husband would personally never survive after uttering these words but I was just told of this BEAUTIFUL supermom whose husband said this to her and I just about died. 

My husband does have the smarts to not utter words such as those to me, but however when it comes to our money he can be infuriating.  He wants no part in the managing of the budget, the paying of the bills but if he comes and asks for something and I tell him the money isn't there right then and there he wants to know where all our money goes.  Apparently the cable TV, the wifi, the food and the lights must all be free.  The car and truck in our driveway?  Free.  Taxes?  Exempt.  Don't let my two inch long dark roots, bra hanging on by only one hook and basic cell phone that ghosts texts people fool you.  I take ALLLLL our money and blow it on me.  I apologize, I will go grab you your dinner, a beer, turn on football for you and take the kids somewhere so you can have peace and quiet to make it all better. 

There is a push for women to be thin, perky, beautiful, sexy 24/7.  Society turns their head for a man with a gut.  There is a push for a woman to learn to juggle work, keeping the house clean, raising the kids.  A man is viewed as weak if he helps out with his equal share.  A headstrong man is viewed as macho and powerful, while a headstrong woman is a bitch.  It is far more acceptable for a man to be promiscious than a woman. 

Shortly after I had my c-section with my last daughter, my husband and I were out in public with her.  She was in her carrier and since I could not carry more than 5 lbs he carried her.  An older man came up to him and right in front of me said that it's the woman's job to be carrying around the baby, not the man.  True story.  In the balance of nature, I believe that it was a necessity to make man part of reproducing.  Otherwise, women would probably kill them all off.  Only then would there be world peace. 

**No men were injured in the production of this blog.  However a woman did manage to write and publish this blog while making dinner, feeding the children, cleaning the kitchen and starting a load of laundry.  Don't worry- the men folk are in the woods hunting!**

 

Mama's Leftover Ham Soup

One of the biggest complaints I hear from SuperMoms is coming up with new affordable and easy dinner ideas.  I grew up eating a soup so simple to throw together and a thrifty meal too!  Now I serve it to my kids and they are always asking this Mama for seconds and thirds!  So I thought I'd share!

I love buying a good ham.  Every smart shopper loves a buy that will give her two to three meals!  There are so many ideas of what to do with leftover ham.  Scalloped ham & potatoes, sweet n sour ham over rice, ham & eggs....and Mama's Leftover Ham Soup!  Great for chilly fall & winter evenings and maybe even lunch the next day!

Take two family sized cans of Cream of Mushroom soup.  I usually add one can of milk and one can of water, but you can adjust this for a thicker or thinner soup.  I chop up the leftover ham, add any leftover veggies (if none a bag of frozen green beans or corn will do) and any leftover potatoes and heat until warm!  Serve with some bread for sopping up the very last bit of this super simple but amazingly delicious soup! 

Just so you know- I HATE mushrooms but I can not get enough of this soup!  Onion lovers, add sliced onions to the soup or top with French's Fried Onions.  Yummmmmy!   I truly find I don't need any additional seasonings needed!

Fill Me Up Scotty!

So I got my Lap Band adjusted, which means they inject my port (under the skin of my stomach) with saline and it tightens my band, making it more difficult to eat large portions of food.  Of course I still can consume the wrong kinds of food, so this is not a magical weight loss answer, but more of a tool to help me not overeat.  The downside of this is for the first 48 hours after a fill, I can only consume liquids.  For the 3rd and 4th day after, only soft foods. 

I am MISERABLE right now with hunger.  I have been watching Vampire Diaries and I understand that insatiable hunger they keep talking about.  I feel like I have empathy for vampires now.  I should definitely be allowed in their inner circle...score since most vampires are majorly hot.  On TV at least.  I can see it now.  Hottie McHottie Vampire in one corner sucking on a neck while I am crouched down in the opposite corner, hovering over a giant freakin cookie that I have been sinking my teeth into, smears of chocolate all over my face.  I.  Just.  Can't.  Control.  Myself. 

Luckily the fear of ripping my stomach open scares me into following doctor's orders for the most part.  I admit I am supposed to wait til Day 3 or 4 to eat cottage cheese but I needed some protein.  I was feeling dizzy and shaky.  Food withdrawals I suppose.  But I must it up with my tongue until liquidy before I swallow it. 

During these times looking through cookbooks is the equivalent of a perv looking at porn.  I drool, fantasize and long for whatever dish is so glamorously displayed on a simple white plate.  Oh you bad, bad teriyaki chicken breast.  Don't make me gobble you right up. 

Today I drove down to McD's for a pumpkin milkshake.  Normally something I try to avoid the temptation of as I am well aware of the calories in one of these bad boys, but without any solids in my systems the thickness of a shake calms the screaming beast in my belly.  For a bit anyways.  McDonalds for the most part disgusts me.  I will eat their salads every once in a great while and their shakes and McFlurries are pretty tasty but that's about all I like there.  I can't get past knowing what the chicken nuggets look like before they are nuggets.  I can't get past the pink slime in the burgers.  Fast food is pretty much the equivalent of self ingestion of poison.  Except Taco Bell.  100% healthy.  Don't dare to inform me of otherwise.  Especially at this point of my four days of malnourishment.  Anyways I am in drive thru line and I see this poster of the new CBO burger.  Cheddar, Bacon & Onion.  What would normally turn my stomach at the thought of actually made my taste buds perk up.  My mind was screaming oh hell no while waving a finger in the air while my tongue was knocking that voice out and my belly was crying for a CBO pink slime burger.  Eaaaatttt ittt.  Ittt'sss sooo yummmyyy.  I'mmm sooo looonnnellly anddd empttyyy downn hereeeee....FEEDDDD MEEEEE. 

Luckily for me LapBand Man came to the rescue and reminded me no solids for four days.  And once I am able to eat oatmeal, eggs, salads, meats and veggies I will be fine with that.  Maybe I should then start trying to wean myself off of the sugar....but that is whole other blog with tales of it's own demons.  For now, I sit here sipping on my delicious Starbucks Salted Caramel Hot Cocoa, counting the hours down until I can return to a normal diet.  I can't believe I did this for five weeks around my surgery.

On another topic regarding the Lap Band what the hell was I thinking getting a surgery which requires frequent injections?  I am the girl who won't get a tattoo because she fears the needle.  Who hasn't had a tetanus shot in probably 20 years because the thought of a needle makes her woozy.  Even worse is where my port implanted on my stomach muscle makes it difficult to locate with a needle.  So they have to poke around with the needle to find the spot and yesterday it was about 20 pokes before the doctor connected.  I was so sore last night!  I am pretty sure this is a form of modern medevil like torture.  The only reason I agreed to voluntarily undergo this torture was due to the years of hitting the McDonald's drive thru....I blame the pink slime that has built up in my body over the years.  I definitely think this is a legit lawsuit.....

Cover Up Your Age Girl

Sensa.  Thigh Master.  Alli.  Stacker Pills.  Quicktrim.  Fen-phen.  Ab Circle.  So many products offering an easy way to a thin, toned body.  If it were only that simple.  If there was a quick, easy way to become thin & toned, everyone would do it.  Believe me when I say, no one enjoys their thighs rubbing against each other.  No one.  No one says I wish I had more jiggle to the wiggle of my arm.  Nobody.

It's the same idea with aging.  So many products out there promising, tighter, younger looking skin.  Anti-aging.  Billions of dollars are spent every year by people hoping to discover the Fountain of Youth within a bottle.  Eye cream, face cream, day solution, night solution, lip fillers, Retin-A, collagen boosting.  We all hope to find that miracle potion that makes those wrinkles disappear.  No more circles under the eyes.  A facelift at your fingertips. 

You can fight the battle of the bulge with smart food choices and exercise.  The easy answer is burn more than you ingest.  This just proves too hard for most to do.  However, there is no answer with aging.  We can't fight Mother Nature.  Wrinkles, grays, sagging...it's bound to happen. 

I am well aware of the aging process in my early 30's.  I am remarkably more tired, on a daily basis.  I love you caffeine.  I see the fine lines appearing, the grays whispering in my hair.  I find it increasingly more difficult to find new music that I enjoy.  I keep returning to the music I grew up with.  I remember when 9pm was just the beginning of my night and now it's pretty much the end of my night.  I remember when I would wear push up bras, heels and huge hoop earrings.  Now I love the feeling of sports bra, long sleeved floral night shirts and what is jewelry?  I will always choose comfort over style.  I prefer nights in to nights out.  I can no longer pop, lock and drop it without popping a bone out of joint, locking up my knees and dropping in pain.  There are snaps, crackles and pops as I walk.  If me 8-9 years ago could see me today, she would down several shots of Southern Comfort in horror and disgust.  That girl is but a memory, tucked deep into my mind. 

I attended a Mary Kay party this weekend.  Facials and makeovers.  I showed up in gray leggings, flip flops and a size 2X hoodie.  Hey, it was super comfortable.  We did facials, which involved like 8 steps.  Exfoliate, cleanse, dermabrasion, moisture, tone, prime, powder...then it was time for makeup.  Three different colors of shadows...upper lid, lower lid, crease...eyeliner above and below the eye...mascara...lip liner, lip color, lip gloss.  I needed a nap after all that work.  I looked in the mirror and felt like a clown with all that makeup on.  I never realized how truly low maintenance I am until that point.  We are so willing to take the time, the money, the energy to invest in trying to look younger, better without really asking what we are rubbing on our faces.  I am willing to bet the ingredients they use to compose your favorite product will end up doing more long term damage than Mother Nature does. 

I think we should embrace life, age, fine lines.  No matter what age you are, there are millions of people who never got to experience that age.  All that glimmers is sure to fade and looking young in my casket is not going to matter to me.  Sure I like a little color, I dab on mascara daily.  But at the end of the day, I want to be know for the woman I am under the makeup.  I want to be remembered for my smarts, my efforts as a mother, as a friend, as kind, loving and opinionated.  I don't want to be known as someone who spent my life trying to defy my age.  In the end, it just seems like a waste of time. 

The next time you look in the mirror and think about buying a product or seeking professional help to fix a flaw, just think of those who took it too far.  Like Bruce Jenner or Heidi Montag.  Michael Jackson.  Jocelyn Wildenstein.  Natural you is always going to be more beautiful than plastic you. 

That is the question...

You know it's a damn good workout when you are searching for the room for that horrible smell and you suddenly realize that smell is you.  I admit, it was a mixture of disgust and accomplishment that flooded me at that moment.  That's hot.

I fell off the exercise wagon.  I took on too much, like I do far too often and of course, I became the last priority.  Unfortunatly during that exercise hiatus I started suspecting that a recurring medical issue I have was rearing its ugly head.  Since age 16 I have suffered from nasal polyps that have to be surgically removed from my sinus and nasal cavity.  It has robbed me of my sense of smell, dulled my taste buds and frustrates me to no end as there is no cure. 

A nasal polyp is basically a benign tumor.  I usually don't realize it has returned until it has grown to a size that creates difficult side effects like nasal drip, pain in my upper gums, a constant sound of stuffiness, difficulty breathing through my nose, snoring, sleep apnea and migraines.  Two surgeries ago the doctor said it was the size of a baseball and the last polyp was even larger than that. 

So I am trying to get back on the exercise wagon, but the polyp is making it quite difficult to get back to where I was.  I struggle with two miles due to breathing when I just ran a 10k in August.  I get very angry at times that this is happening again, but I have to calm myself down because the anger will do no good or make no difference.

I did do some research and the one term that keeps recurring in my nasal polyp research is cystic fibrosis.  When I was pregnant for Madison my genetic testing was positive for cystic fibrosis and Brian had to be tested to be sure he didn't carry the genes.  I am now wondering if I have a very mild case of cystic fibrosis.  It would make so much sense with issues I have had my entire life.  Lots of people with mild cases are not diagnosed until adulthood. 

 

More than anything it is beyond frustrating to have no control over your body.  I want to run 3, 4 miles and I can't get the oxygen flow I need.  I want to roll over in bed without feeling the polyp shift in my sinus cavity.  I don't ever want to have another surgery again.  I don't want to live in constant fear of it coming back and causing this discomfort.  I go to the surgeon's on the 22nd and I wish they could do the surgery on the 23rd.  I really don't know how I would handle it if I was told I could no longer run.  I know one day my body will fail me and that is very humbling and hard to think about.  I just think at age 32 I'm too young to be physically limited.  I close this blog with a question.  Would you rather be of sound mind and lose control physically or be physically able but lose your mind? 

I hate Aunt Flo

Being perfect is exhausting.  I feel like I have a non stop list of things I need to get done as soon as possible.  I finish one task and add two more to the list.  I have been known to take on way too much, but I have not yet learned to slow it down.  It's like I feel this life is so short and just want to cram as much as I possibly can in each moment.  

Cheer competition is this weekend, it's the first of the month so my work load triples, I am in the midst of remodeling the house, my husband's work in in the middle of a buyout...it's just been crazy.  So tonight I left work, drove straight up to Watertown to shop for cheer comp, went to pick up my Mom from work, went to my parents' to have a dinner to celebrate my sister's engagment, came home, whipped together two dozen fun and creative treats for Madison's class, tie-dyed twenty pairs of socks for cheer comp crazy sock parade, did a few loads of laundry and finally crawled to the recliner at 10pm.  The dog tried to get in the chair with me to cuddle and I pushed him away and told him I had a headache.  Yeah, it's that bad. 

It doesn't make things any better that Aunt Flo is here for her monthly visit.  That instantly puts me in a pissy mood.  There is no plus side to having your period.  I mean other than knowing you are not pregnant but I don't have time for sex right now.  I forgot to schedule that in.  It's a vicious cycle...I am in a bad mood, I crave sweets on account of my hormones and because I am an emotional eater.  I don't make rational choices.  Just today my co worker and I were craving snacks around 2pm...our normal Hour of Hunger.  She wanted chocolate, I wanted chips.  As I left work I told her she needed to think of something that was healthy, fried and chocolate for me to grab on the way to Watertown.  We tossed around some ideas, like fried chocolate, chocolated dipped fried chicken, Oreo flavored kettle chips.  Bad choices lead to guilt, lack of time and energy leads to no exercise which leads to an overabundance of calories not burned, which turns to pounds, which turns to thunder thighs.  Imperfect, touching thunder thighs.   These ideas were brought to you on behalf of PMS. 

When in Watertown, I had to buy supplies for Aunt Flo's visit.  All I wanted was thin, regular length maxi pads with wings.  Is it that difficult to get what a girl wants??  They are all super strength, extra long, overnight diapers.  Kotex, I sprung a leak, I haven't flooded the basement.  No wonder I can't send Brian to get these for me.  It's like Mission Impossible to find anything less than a Wet Vac in a Pad. 

So I am sitting here bloated, tired, cranky, hungry and imperfect wondering what it is I need to do to find some sort of balance.  I need more sleep, more exercise, more organization, more down time but how do I do it?  Am I the only one who struggles to juggle it all?  All I know is I look forward to next week when should slow down a bit for me with cheerleading ending.  I definitely think some down time is in order...at least until my holiday job and soccer starts.