tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14347739065032674092024-03-12T20:49:04.482-07:00Not A Stepford Wife's BlogFamily, chaos, parenting, marriage, kids, motherhood, society...its all fair game, without any PC varnish.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.comBlogger139125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-57873677881917708472012-01-08T19:19:00.000-08:002012-01-08T19:19:13.975-08:00New Blog<strong>I've started a new blog.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Please join me at </strong><br />
<a href="http://notastepfordlife.blogspot.com/">Not A Stepford Life</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-92143426166211325902011-10-02T16:00:00.000-07:002011-10-02T16:00:58.073-07:00Five Weeks!<strong>Holy cow.</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<br />
<strong>5 wks or less until baby is here. HOW did that happen?</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Pregnancy usually seems to last forever, at least to me...until now. Now I'm wondering where it went.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>If I make it to 39 wks (which the OB doubts) he'll induce, so I know it won't be more than 5 wks from now.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Am I the only one that can get to the end of pregnancy and find the idea of a new baby in the house still a bit surreal? I mean, I know it's happening, but trying to imagine the reality just escapes me somehow.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Its also interesting how different it is, being that this is our last baby. My other kids, I was in a 'hurry up, get to the end, have the baby already!' feeling.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>This time, I find myself in the mind set of whenever it happens, it happens, enjoy the feeling of baby rumbling around while I can. </strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-8883891336901531172011-08-30T11:00:00.000-07:002011-08-30T11:00:57.598-07:00Countdown<strong>Well, the parental visit has come and gone. It went amazingly well.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Currently, we're preparing for the upcoming changes Chez Stepford. </strong><br />
<br />
<strong>First, getting the hs area torn apart and reorganized for school to start next week.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Second is getting ready for the new baby, due mid Nov. I have the feeling, though, that it will be a planned delivery. With RSD and the other medical issues that have come up, I suspect that they're not going to want me to labour unsupervised.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>So, I figure we've got 8-9 wks left to get ready.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>I'm tired already! Decluttering, cleaning, organizing is done in fits and starts, and leaves me in a foul mood. I hate being hampered and not being able to simply do what needs done. The progress around here is like being nibbled to death by ducks...and I get to put up with snarky comments from my husband, such as, "I thought you were going to do x,y,z today..." Yeah, well...I can't always finish what I start, not in the same day. Gets done eventually, but sometimes the partway point looks worse than the original situation.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Any wonder I'm in a foul mood?</strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-21409098057805686862011-07-27T10:09:00.000-07:002011-07-27T10:09:14.653-07:00Contemplating the Future<strong>Yes, long time no post!</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>There's been so much going on, I hardly know where to begin.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>First off, the MPO. Contradictory info, basically sent us back to the beginning in terms of dealing with WCB. 3 yrs in, and no further ahead. *sigh* In fact, they're sending me back to work, yet AGAIN the 2nd wk of August. As per experience, I expect it to fail miserably, but have to jump through the hoop anyways.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>So, what else is going on?</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Well, Wolf and I are adding to the crew. Yup. Baby Boy Tummy is due mid Nov. How's that for news? Crazy, aint it? It took us a while to get over the shock, LOL! Kidlets are excited. They've been to the u/s appts, and so have even gotten to see their new baby brother.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>We still look at and dream about moving to an acreage. Where, we don't know. Originally, we were looking at one province over, due to the cheap real estate prices, ease of moving, and Wolf having cousins there. Then we switched gears and were intent on moving back to my home province. Weather is far better there for me, my family would be within hours driving, and some of the places are still in our budget.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Now, we're not sure anymore. Back to considering the original plan. Part of it is absolutely that moving across country is completely daunting. First off, we'd have to replace our vehicle. It just wouldn't make the trip. Second, buying property from several provinces away is enough to freak both of us out...yet if we wait til we get there, it'll mean trying to secure a rental, and be stuck in that for a year. Yuck, yuck, yuck. So, spending a lot of time in prayer, asking for guidance on that issue...and also that something happens soon to make it all possible. Sooooo sick of being stuck in the city we're in. We even considered moving to another rental, but its pretty insane here. First of all, we'd end up paying at least as much as a mortgage, if not more. There's no way to save $ on moving, everything we've seen is more than what we pay now. I refuse to move and watch our rent go up by several hundred dollars. So, we're basically stuck.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>As much as there have been some changes, some up coming events, we're still in the same holding pattern we've been in for the last 3 yrs. Blech.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>On the good note, MIL isn't visiting this summer. There's nobody willing to host her for six wks. We can't. Her sib in the province flat out won't. So, we get a break.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Oh, and speaking of MIL...she threw a blue hissy fit over finding out we were expecting again. We have no right to have another child, since we're already not living up to our responsibilities aka moving her in and taking care of her. *sigh* I'm back to avoiding contact with her, so as not to rip her face off over the phone.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>My parents are due to land in the city in a few wks. They'll be in town for a wk. We'll see how that one goes.</strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-37252131827826227682011-05-21T06:16:00.000-07:002011-05-21T06:16:22.324-07:00Results of 3 Hr Testing<strong>I haven't received the final outcome of the medical panel yet, but apparently should by next Friday.</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<br />
<strong>BUT...I was told that they had to edit part of the report due to the results *finally* coming in this wk from the 3 hr torture test I went through back the beginning of April.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Got those today.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Long story short, this is the results of the testing:</strong><br />
<br />
<em><u>"This is an abnormal study. There is evidence of abnormal responses on sudomotor (sweat), vasomotor (thermal) and sensory perception testing in the right upper limb. These findings support the diagnosis of Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (RSD)"</u></em><br />
<br />
<strong>THANK YOU GOD!!!</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>I was so terrified, esp when I was told the report needed to be edited due to the test results. I *knew* that my response to the testing wasn't 'normal', but my big fear was that the results would be 'inconclusive' and they'd make me go through all of that Hell again.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>I feel dizzy and nauseated, I'm so relieved.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Now, just praying that the MPO agrees with my Drs now that they have objective proof of the dx, and things will be so excellent.</strong><br />
<strong><br />
</strong><br />
<strong>Many thanks to those who have given prayers and support, and continue to do so.</strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-54652054943996317872011-05-15T15:56:00.000-07:002011-05-15T15:56:54.765-07:00Contemplation<strong>Well, there's a lot going on Chez Stepford...or perhaps, too little, depending on how you look at it.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>First, the medical panel. Report was due to the head of the panel on Friday...so we haven't heard squat yet. Hopefully that will change in the next 2 wks.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Even <em>more</em> hopefully, the medical panel will confirm what my Drs have been saying for almost 3 yrs now...which will mean an end in sight as far as Worker's Comp goes.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>We're wanting, hoping, praying, <em>needing</em> to move. Of course, we can't do diddly until we know whats going on with WCB. But, in the meantime, we're still attempting to plan.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Which leads us to our 2nd bout of treading water, and "I don't know" situation.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Initially, we were planning to moving to my home province, back east across the country. The weather is far, far better for me, my family is there for actual physical and emotional support, and we've found numerous places via real estate listings that would more than fit the bill for what we want and need. </strong><br />
<br />
<strong>BUT...we don't know how long WCB is going to take, if winding up is in the cards...and moving across Canada in the winter is just a no go.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>And...there's the MIL situation. She's in her 80s, her health is failing. Being so far from her (she lives on the west coast) means that we'd never be able to visit her.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>So, we've been considering moving to the southern part of our province. Warmer than where we are now, to be sure...not as warm as my home province. Means ZERO support, as I'd be at least two hrs from my best friend here in the city. I'd be more isolated than now.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>And absolutely NONE of the houses we've seen online interest me in the slightest. They all rate a 'meh'. I *could* stand it, if I had to...but thats not exactly what I want for buying my first house. Plus, we have zero intention of staying forever. We'd still be looking to move east in the next 5 yrs...buying a house would simply be a better idea than continuing to pay rent. Build credit, equity, and get out at the first chance.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Which makes me wonder, wth are we thinking? Moving two hrs away really doesn't fix anything better than moving across country, with the sole exception of MIL. I'd still need new Drs, involve a big move...To what actual benefit? None, really...not for the family under my roof.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Well, that's not exactly true. Wolf would breathe a bit easier, knowing he could be to his mother in less than a day's travel if need be.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>MIL, however, has recently DEMANDED that we move near her, so she could 'move with us'. Uh, no. Moving in with us is not an option, period.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>I'm so close to saying, "Heck with it, I'm NOT living anywhere on the basis of your mother, lets pack and go." that I could spit. <em>She</em> could move if she wants, once we're settled. Why should our lives pattern around her?!</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Argh.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>I want to do whats best for my family. Praying for guidance, for direction, for solutions.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Feel free to cast a vote in the comment section!</strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-8982939183411195622011-04-29T03:28:00.000-07:002011-04-29T03:28:16.562-07:00Today's The Day...No, Not The Royal Wedding...<strong>I go for the big medical panel meeting this am. Three specialists and the head of the medical panel will be hearing the information, probably examining me (icky, eww, pain) and then writing a report stating if I am capable of working at all.</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<br />
<strong>All my drs say no, I'm unable. Worker's Comp doesn't like that answer, hence the MPO.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Last I heard, they hadn't yet received the info from the 3 hr torture...err...testing session.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>If folks could pray for us, that this goes in our favour, that they agree with *my* specialists (there's 3 of them, plus 3 other independant exams that have said yes, I have RSD) I would be very grateful.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>I don't know what shape I'll be in later, depending on what exams might be done, so I may not update until tomorrow.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Thanks. </strong><br />
<strong><br />
</strong><br />
<strong></strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-51982911901605321472011-04-25T08:58:00.000-07:002011-04-25T08:58:19.450-07:00The Hits Keep On Coming...<strong>Ok, first the good news. Baby nephew was released from the hospital yesterday. Talk about a happy Easter for my brother and his wife!!</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>And now, the rest of life...</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Wolf thought he pulled a muscle in his side at work. Turned out to be shingles.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Medical Panel is demanding to physically examine me on Friday. Which, translated to someone with RSD means, "We're going to hurt you. Repeatedly. Because, even though you've been examined at LEAST a half dozen times before, and everyone agrees its RSD, we want to have a poke at you ourselves...RSD just isn't common, you know."</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Easter was ok, kids loved everything.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>And that's the post and run update for now.</strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-61169131230269112132011-04-19T11:10:00.000-07:002011-04-19T11:11:19.142-07:00Stressed Out<strong>There's so much going on right now, I'm not sure which end is up.</strong><br />
<strong></strong><strong><br />
</strong><strong>My nephew, a few wks old, has some serious health issues. He was born with both a sealed valve, and a hole in his heart. They've put a temp shunt in, and intend for him to have surgery btwn 4-6 mths of age to fix the hole and put in a perm shunt.</strong><strong><br />
</strong><br />
<strong>He's been admitted to the hospital...he was having blood in his diapers. My bro and his wife were told by 2 different ERs that it was a milk allergy. A check up a day later at the children's hospital showed it was a bowel infection. He's in for at least 2 wks, to a month. Last I heard the antibiotics are working, but they can't feed him b/c he needs to heal, so he's on an IV only.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Then I've got the medical panel next Friday. Decisions will be made as to the future of my workers comp claim...but I have no clue as to what I'm walking into. I know that the bone scan showed no abnormalities...basically, I've kept up my physio at home and have so far staved off bone loss, which is great for my health, but bad for the medical panel whose looking for objective evidence of RSD. *sigh* I don't have a clue, and won't know until the day, the results of the other testing. I'm terrified.</strong><strong><br />
</strong><br />
<strong><br />
</strong><br />
<strong>If it were just me effected, I could deal...but this impacts my family too.</strong><strong><br />
</strong><br />
<strong><br />
</strong><br />
<strong>I feel guilty for worrying, b/c my nephew's health is so much more frightening and dire, but can't shake it either. Does that make me self absorbed?</strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-22781822908287627752011-04-06T08:39:00.001-07:002011-04-06T08:39:59.426-07:00Where To Start?!<b>Honestly. Things have just gotten out of control around here.<br />
<br />
Ever since my testing over a week ago, I've been barely treading water. The testing was over 3 hrs long, incredibly painful, tortuous...and at no time was I allowed to say, "Enough", or "Stop" because that would mean I was non-compliant, and worker's comp would have had a field day.<br />
<br />
I still can't be in my own bed without nightmares or flashes of being strapped down to that table while someone hurt me, over and over again.<br />
<br />
Yet, life does go on. I need to do laundry, vacuum, steam clean, the bathroom is a disaster...the list goes on. And on. Everything that I haven't done while I've been licking my wounds has just stacked up. And up.<br />
<br />
Its just so overwhelming this am. I know that the place to start is anywhere, just get going. Logically, I know this. So why is it, emotionally, I'm curled up in a ball hiding under my desk?</b><br />
<br />
<b>I think its the whole feeling of being completely helpless, unable to even protect myself, being a bug pinned down to someone's tray while they poked and prodded and reduced me to an injured animal that has left me feeling completely incompetent in every aspect of my life.<br />
</b><br />
<b>PTSD has occurred to me. I see my psychologist Friday.<br />
<br />
I find it ironic. Assaulted by a resident. RSD sets in, robbing me of my dominant hand and arm. Constant pain. Losing my life as a whole, healthy woman, wife and mother.<br />
<br />
But its the testing that has me completely falling apart. A 3 hr test from H*ll, no debate...but you'd think I could shake it off if all the rest of the crud didn't break me. I guess I've hit my limit. </b><b> </b><b></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-78173838521269456332011-04-02T17:12:00.001-07:002011-04-02T17:12:43.890-07:00So Tired Of This!!<b>Gah!<br />
<br />
I'm back to flipping btwn sweats and chills. I *thought* I'd figured out what the problem was, and hadn't had an episode for the past few days.<br />
<br />
Yeah. Til an hour ago.<br />
<br />
RSD sucks. Its screwed with my nervous system so much. The arm is bad enough, but when your own personal thermostat is toasted, its plain nuts. Like having the flu all. the. time.<br />
<br />
Wearing layers doesn't help, because either its too much, and then flips to way too little. And vice versa.<br />
<br />
I need a reset button.</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-71041999411612918002011-03-20T02:26:00.000-07:002011-03-20T02:26:53.308-07:00Things I've Learned In the Last 24 Hours<b>Things I've Learned In the Last 24 Hours... </b><br />
<ul><li><b>My younger bro is officially a Daddy, with the birth of his first child.</b></li>
<li><b>Baby goes for heart surgery anytime, must be in his first 24 hrs.</b></li>
<li><b>It sucks being across country, and of no use to them at all.</b></li>
<li><b>I can, by using my good arm and forcing my bad up, get a partial dislocation back in.</b></li>
<li><b>The manouver, however, ended up in me vomiting in my kitchen sink.</b></li>
<li><b>A housecoat belt, tied in a slip knot, can work as a weird sling to try and keep the shoulder in place.</b></li>
</ul><b>There's a lot more thats happened since I last posted, and my apologies for my absence. I promise a fuller update soon, but I'm feeling like I'm going to be sick again, so it'll have to wait.</b><br />
<br />
<b>My sincere thanks to those who have stuck with following the blog despite my lack of entries. </b><b> </b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-46095542372931408632010-12-17T12:01:00.000-08:002010-12-17T12:01:01.910-08:00Family Inheritance, Merry Christmas!<b>I have Christmas music blaring at top volume from my cruddy puter speakers.<br />
<br />
I've successfully corrupted my kids. I'm not talking the usual good stuff either, folks. Sure, we've got TSO blaring, some Anne Murray (I'm Canadian, k?) Brad Paisley, Vince Gill...but how many listen to "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus' done by Twisted Sister? (Video for Come O Ye Faithful by the same, hilarious)<br />
<br />
Years from now, just as I listen to the Christmas songs by artists my mother blared forth, Diva, Tazzie and Princess will be hunting for Twisted Sister.<br />
<br />
My work here is done.*grin*</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-8096899696290050382010-11-25T10:21:00.000-08:002010-11-25T10:21:40.531-08:00Not A Cat Person, But...<b>I like our cat, as far as cats go. He's huge, runs our small pony/dog and is generally friendly, although absolutely Wolf's pet. Probably cause Wolf does the feeding/litter issues. And I'm good w/that.<br />
<br />
Is it wrong then, that the 1 time (we know of) that Jack the Cat caught a mouse...Wolf's indignation that his cat a) didn't eat the darned thing and b) left it in his clean laundry basket, btwn a pair of socks...<br />
<br />
I laughed til I cried. Where Wolf couldn't hear me, of course. Diva wasn't that controlled, and laughed in front of Daddy, and was treated to a chorus of, "That's not funny! My socks stink now!" which only fuelled my hurry to leave...like, jet propelled. Upstairs, behind a door, face in a pillow, shrieking with laughter.</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>And I'm still snickering.</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Oh, and a note...on my tag labels, 'humour' and 'husband' are one word apart. Coincidence? I'm thinking not so much...*runs*</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-18257537783578324922010-11-05T10:13:00.000-07:002010-11-05T10:13:28.462-07:00Ever Have A Day...<b>Ever have a day when God's love for you was so apparent, so vivid, so overwhelmingly *there* that it left you feeling so filled with light, hope, peace, love?<br />
<br />
I'm having that day. I've never before experienced it.<br />
<br />
Let me share with you what has happened today. Its incredible.<br />
<br />
First, I haven't slept. Not unusual in my life.<br />
<br />
However, at 3am, I turned on the tv. It was left on where Diva watched the Cosby Show before bed...a Christian channel. It had a show on...and brought back my most difficult time in my life, when I left my parents abusive home.<br />
<br />
You see, a gf of mine's Dad worked for that show at the time. When she found out I'd left home due to the abuse, she turned to her parents and asked them to take me in.<br />
<br />
They did. No hesitation. No questions. No doubt from them at all that what I said was real and true.<br />
<br />
My mother showed up at their door, screaming and ranting and raving, spewing venom and hatred and threats.<br />
<br />
There was no doubt in my mind that my dad was capable of showing up and assaulting my gf's Dad.<br />
<br />
They put themselves, their dd, and their younger ds in that jeopardy for me. Me, the child who had been taught from the age of 5 to answer the question, "Who are you?" with, "Nobody. I'm nothing." and believed it with all my heart and soul.<br />
<br />
They protected me from my mother at the door. They agreed with the police to provide me with a safe place until CPS decided what to do. CPS didn't want me...I would be turning 16 that summer (this all happened New Year's Eve, my leaving).<br />
<br />
They fought CPS to take me in, to do something to protect me.<br />
<br />
Anyways...seeing this show brought all that back. And I was compelled to find these parents again. Over 20 yrs later, I *needed* to find them, thank them, tell them how incredible and grateful and amazed I was and am for what they did. They were the first to show me I had worth. <i>I was worth protecting.</i> An impossible concept for me to grasp then.<br />
<br />
So, I searched. Immediately, I hit on a listing that I *knew* would be them. I waited until a decent time (7am for me, 9am for them) to call, and did.<br />
<br />
It was indeed her Dad that answered the phone. He immediately knew who I was when I told him my name.<br />
<br />
I spent almost 2 hrs talking with him. He'd never forgotten me, had prayed for me, worried for me, shared my story with many families over the years, and hoped to hear that I was ok one day. We both cried, he prayed for me and said things that my soul so needed to hear, to the point that I was doing the whole snotty nose, tear dripping, chest heaving sobs.<br />
<br />
I've felt so incredibly blessed since then. So enlightened, loved, clean. Worthy, in a way that I've never ever experienced.<br />
<br />
I've been blessed today in a way I never could have imagined. Over 20 yrs late in coming, my contacting him, was an incredible blessing for us both.<br />
<br />
I just wanted to share this incredible feeling. God is so good. I know He loves me in a part of my heart that was so dark and scared and scarred before that I couldn't embrace or accept it before.<br />
<br />
Thank you, God. Thank you.<br />
</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-60930248759320293032010-10-27T05:30:00.000-07:002010-10-27T05:30:48.228-07:00Dark.<b>I don't have a better title for this blog entry. I'll apologize in advance to those who come here looking for a light hearted view of things. They exist, honest...just not posted. That alone tells me that my view of things is/has become skewed, and needs to be adjusted.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Some days, its just so hard. Insomnia has struck again, leaving me vulnerable emotionally.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>I spent most of last night sobbing. Pain was rampant, both physically and emotionally. I'm in my 30s, and all I can see stretching out before me is pain. Pain, pain, and more pain. The only 'break' I get is when I manage to sleep, but that's fleeting, broken, and can't be counted on. There's absolutely no rhyme or reason for sleep, or not sleeping. I do the same things, and never know if I'll sleep.</b><br />
<br />
<b>I'm not the woman, wife, or mother that I want to be. I fall so short on what I demand of myself. Everything in my life is dependant upon pain levels, and I loathe it. I want to be able to live, without the uncertainty that RSD brings. I want to turn back time and not ever have gone into that resident's room that grabbed me and started all of this. I wonder, in the darkest recesses of my heart what I did wrong. What I'm being punished for.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>There have been times that I've considered leaving my family. Not suicide, just leaving. Clearing out so that a healthy, <i>whole</i> woman can fill the spot of wife and mother. But I don't. I don't because I believe that would damage my children more than having a lesser mother in their lives. I may not be whole and able, but I think that leaving would tell them that they weren't worth staying for. And not for the world would I ever want to wound my babies that way.</b><br />
<br />
<b>That's what I tell myself...But sometimes I wonder if its my selfishness talking. That I need them more than they need me. Because I do need them. They're my reasons why. Why I do anything, everything. Its for them that I put one foot in front of the other.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>They don't see me cry. Nor does Wolf. He *knows* I hurt of course, as do the children...but none of them know how badly. I need to protect them as best I can. I believe that if they knew, it would scare them terribly to see Mommy fall apart.</b><br />
<br />
<b>So I do my crying in the wee hours of the morning, when insomnia reigns supreme, leaving me defenceless. I acknowledge the dark thoughts that I bury so deep. I suppose I wallow for a bit might be the best and most honest way to put it. Then I wipe my face, blow my nose, and face the coming day.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>Its just so hard sometimes. Wondering what damage I might be doing to my babies. Wondering if I'm doing the right thing for them. Wondering how much is really for them, and how much is my selfishness shining through.</b><br />
<br />
<b>I pray that I'm doing what's right for them. I don't know what else I can do. </b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-69595700469582266502010-10-15T09:24:00.000-07:002010-10-15T09:24:34.919-07:00I Disappeared For A Day<b>As I mentioned on the previous entry, insomnia has been an issue for me this week.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Wednesday eve it continued. I was 72 hrs and counting with less than two hours of sleep.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>When Wolf woke up Thursday am and discovered me <i>sleeping</i>, he called in to work and took the day off. I have no real memories of yesterday. Fragmented bits and pieces, nothing really solid. I woke up at 9pm, found Wolf snoozing in the recliner in the living room, and shoo'ed him off to bed. Next thing I know, he's waking *me* up on the couch announcing its 5am.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Its a completely bizarre thing, to lose an entire day. But what an incredible difference it is to actually feel *rested* for a change! I thought I'd been doing well, keeping it together. Now that I'm rested, I wonder how on Earth I stayed standing! </b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-7431318904048910802010-10-13T06:47:00.000-07:002010-10-13T06:47:26.915-07:00Insomnia, Day 2<b>Monday night, I slept not at all. I made it through until after supper, then loaded up on my meds and headed off to bed around 6 pm.</b><br />
<br />
<b>By 830, I was still awake. Took some melatonin.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>930, still awake.</b><br />
<br />
<b>I was still awake when Wolf got up to get ready for work. I managed to fall asleep after that, so got a grand total of 90 minutes of sleep.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>Its so frustrating. I feel like crying. I take all the meds I'm supposed to to get to sleep. Sometimes they work, other times, nada. I need to get some regular sleep.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Its a vicious cycle. I can't sleep, so my pain levels go up. Because my pain levels are up, I can't sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>It takes everything I am to keep on my feet, keep moving. Sitting on the couch, trying to read a book, the type begins to blur, and I start to nod off. My kids need me, so that's not acceptable at all. We have school to do, Diva needs math tests marked, I have history to read aloud to all of them...In short, far too much to do for Mommy to pass out on the couch.</b><br />
<br />
<b>I realize it opens the door for ppl to start banging on the 'Send Them To School' drum, but that's not an option. RSD has stolen so much from me that I won't allow it to negatively impact my children's education.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>Wolf continues to be amazed/frustrated/worried about my not sleeping. He can't understand how I can "take enough meds to drop a horse" yet still not sleep. Its ridiculous to the nth degree.</b><br />
<br />
<b>My GP just raised the dose of one med a few wks ago, told me he wanted me to try it for a month before we make any changes. I see him on Friday, and I'm going to be telling him that I can't afford to wait a month. This need to be changed now. Its hit or miss with the meds. The first week or so I took them, they worked beautifully. Fast forward to now, and they're as effective as a Tic Tac.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>Quiet time is just 5 hrs away. I can make it til then. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.</b><br />
<br />
<b>I know I must. Housework can go fly a kite today, but homeschooling...that's not optional for me. It must happen.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>I have an hour to gather my wits, to call on what paitence I may have in reserve, and be ready to educate my kids.</b><br />
<br />
<b>I will do this.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>Although, I do admit, I can't remember the last time that I was running on 90 minutes sleep in 2 days. Not saying it hasn't happened, just that I can't remember it...Which is likely just as well.</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-2120905792654771632010-09-14T10:10:00.001-07:002010-09-14T10:10:40.251-07:00That Was...Interesting.<b>Just got back from taking the kids to the mall. Needed a few groceries, and hit the day olds.<br />
<br />
After shopping, I took them to McDs for a treat.<br />
<br />
The guy serving me kept looking at me oddly.<br />
<br />
Later, he brought over a chocolate milk I'd forgotten. I walked over to meet him, and he said, "You are a very s$xy woman."<br />
<br />
I just sort of stared at him, and finally mumbled, "Thank you."<br />
<br />
I'm a mom. Short, pudgy. Wearing an old shapeless sweater and fleecy jog pants. Not to mention the whole RSD bit.<br />
<br />
I didn't (and still don't) know if I should be flattered or creeped out. He just had this weird sort of intensity to him. I hurried the kids along with their snack and left post haste.<br />
<br />
I haven't had a total stranger pay me a compliment in...decades? Probably. And certainly not that boldly, ever.<br />
<br />
Maybe I just need Wolf to get better with his compliments, or threaten to run away with the McDs guy. </b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-2317008008413370522010-09-06T14:52:00.000-07:002010-09-06T14:52:15.715-07:00'Long' Weekends, Flying Cats, And Dog Drool<b>At least, that's what the calendar tells me. Didn't work out that way at the Non Stepford home. At least not for me.</b><br />
<br />
<b>I haven't been sleeping well again. Weather is shifting to colder (we didn't get the heat wave everyone else on the planet seemed to), and that plays holy Hades with my RSD.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>I have a vague memory/impression of Saturday. Took Diva grocery shopping. Came home, and remember Wolf telling me, "Now go to bed for 18 hours." </b><br />
<br />
<b>I went to bed for 20. Yes, 20. Not a typo.</b><br />
<br />
<b>My husband was checking me for breathing, tickling my face to get me to move when he couldn't see my chest rise and fall. He has some weird issue with sleeping beside a dead woman. Probably the safest he'd be in our marriage, if I were dead. No chance of smothering him in his sleep or anything.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>I do know I woke up at one point. His cat (yes, *his*) jumped off our window sill and landed directly on my elbow of my bad arm. His cat is about 20 lbs. I cursed the cat and passed back out. If I'd been more aware, the cat would have flown a second time. Cat doesn't belong in our room at any time, let alone when we're sleeping.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Yes, I'm one of those weirdos that loathes animals in my bedroom. Cat hair on my pillow. *gack* Massive dog drool on my sheets. *double gack*</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>Speaking of which, that's a problem we're having with Wunder Dawg lately. For those not familiar, she's a small pony of a supposed dog. Great Pyrenees x with Akbash. We've had her for just over a year now, and she's developed this lovely drool issue. She shakes her head and its like flying dog snot everywhere. Its drool, but the consistency...</b><br />
<br />
<b>To be totally gross, I did at one point suggest it could be bottled and sold as a lubricant. Replace WD-40...or something like that. All organic. Might pay for her food bill. Maybe.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>Wolf's golfing today. I *should* be getting all organized for school tomorrow, but its just not happening...or hasn't happened yet. I had great intentions, does that count?</b><br />
<br />
<b>I blame my inertia on losing 20 hrs this wknd. My brain hasn't figured out that the weekend ends today, and is insisting its tomorrow.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>Yeah. That's it. </b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-1882130892704779602010-08-25T11:48:00.001-07:002010-08-25T11:48:49.259-07:00The Boy Is Hollow<span style="font-weight: bold;">Tazzie is driving me batty.<br />
<br />
He's constantly hungry. 10 minutes or less after a meal, he's asking for something to eat. We don't 'do' junk, except a rare treat, so he's getting whole wheat bread, lots of fruits and veggies, and protein.<br />
<br />
I hope my bank account can handle this growth spurt. At least, I *hope* its a growth spurt, and not his new 'normal'.<br />
<br />
At 5, he makes our fridge look like we've been invaded by locusts. Heaven help us when he's 15!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-84153818797529618862010-08-21T07:35:00.000-07:002010-08-21T07:35:25.218-07:00Crying. Wolf Admitted...<b>I'm in tears.<br />
<br />
I talked to Wolf about having another baby. Its something that's been on my heart for a long time. </b><b>We're far better off financially than when we had Tazzie and Princess.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Wolf admitted that the only reason he doesn't want another baby is because of my disability.<br />
<br />
Just one more thing that RSD has stolen from me.<br />
<br />
I know all the arguments. I'd have to go off all my meds. The pain would be roaring. But the heart wants what the heart wants, and I'd be willing.<br />
<br />
I'm praying that God either takes this longing from my heart, or places it on Wolf's too.<br />
<br />
It hurts too da*n much.</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-44903898064856728552010-08-05T09:56:00.000-07:002010-08-05T22:09:23.694-07:00Neighbour Issue<b>Last night, I was in a great deal of pain, and so went to bed at 630 pm.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Or tried to.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>My neighbour, a man nearing 50, believes himself to be an up and coming rock star. His band plays in bars....although I'm betting they don't get any return gigs. If they do, it speaks alarmingly of how much booze affects perception.</b><br />
<br />
<b>So, he was practicing. Wolf and I had heard him warming up in a falsetto earlier, and as Wolf put it, "It sounds like he's slamming his male parts in a drawer. Repeatedly." I suggested, even dared Wolf to go bang on his door and ask if he was ok, but Wolf wouldn't. Coward.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>My bedroom window was open. So was R's. The room he was practicing in shares a wall with us, and of course the master bedroom is along this wall. It sounded like he was standing on my bed, practicing. At top volume. What he lacks in talent, he makes up for in enthusiasm and volume.</b><br />
<br />
<b>He was singing in the dreadful falsetto. He repeated the same song 3x before I realized that it was supposed to be a Led Zeppelin tune. "Rock 'n Roll"</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>This alarmed me. First, I was raised on Zeppelin, Eagles, Doors, Steppenwolf, Bob Seger. I could sing the lyrics to Zeppelin and Seger songs long before I knew my ABCs. For me NOT to recognize a Zeppelin tune is an alarming thing, and speaks to how badly he was butchering it. He must have repeated the song 6x altogether, and the only thing that improved was his enthusiasm, and self praise. I'd never known someone that got <i>worse</i> with practice, but he does.</b><br />
<br />
<b>He then moved on to a Rascal Flatts song. I have no idea which one, since I only identified it by the singer in the background. My neighbour was pretty consistent in drowning it out, but I did catch enough bits and pieces to identify the band.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>You know how when you're singing along with one of your favourite songs, but don't know all the lyrics quite yet, the way you garble something up, or "mmm" your way through that part? Yeah. Well. R was garbling, at top volume. Not only was he WILDLY off key, but his garbling didn't even match the missing lyrics syllables. Seriously. It was bad. Beyond bad.</b><br />
<br />
<b>I came downstairs, swearing that I was going to go shoot R in the face. With a flame thrower. I know where there are lighters and a can of hairspray in the house.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Thankfully, R gave up his vocal practicing shortly thereafter.</b><br />
<br />
<b>My ears seriously hurt after listening to him. Like having a double ear infection hurt. </b> <br />
<b>Here's a free tip, in case R ever stumbles across the blog: Your band hasn't made it yet. Either give it up, or find a different lead vocalist.</b><br />
<br />
<b>And if you EVER damage a Zeppelin song like that again, I have my hairspray at hand.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Don't say you weren't warned.</b><br />
<br />
<b>And stay the heck away from any Queen songs. You don't want to know what the penalty for killing a Queen song is, but no jury would convict me, cause I'll record you first.</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-91523270316698880422010-08-03T07:49:00.000-07:002010-08-04T06:24:14.918-07:00Pain. Oh. My. Word. Pain.<b>I'm of the suspicion that the latest lidocaine infusion did not go at all well. I had pain at the site, which is a first, and by the time I had Wolf take it out, I was just about in tears from pain/pressure. I felt foggy and just disconnected, with pressure in my chest.</b><br />
<br />
<b>No, I didn't go to the Drs or the ER. Go ahead and smack me if you need to.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>I'm going to try the infusion again. If I get a repeat, I will go in.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Anyways...Saturday night. Wolf kept trying to send me to bed. I loathe when he does this, as it makes me feel like a child, and simply doesn't work. He says he does it because he knows I need extra sleep, so it frustrates him when I'm not taking advantage of the situation and heading to bed early.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>I went to bed around 2 am. Fell asleep. About 20 minutes later, I woke up, screaming into my pillow. I had a Charley horse. In my bicep. Of my bad arm, of course.</b><br />
<br />
<b>I made it downstairs, and spent about 3 hrs clenching my teeth, biting the blanket, screaming in my throat, praying not to scream out loud and wake up the house. Sitting perfectly still...any involuntary twitch of my fingers set the Charley horse off screaming all over again.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>Kids got up at 540 am, followed shortly by Wolf.</b><br />
<br />
<b>First thing he did was yell at me, telling me to go to bed, giving me crap for staying up all night. Yeah, like I did it deliberately. I told him I had a Charley horse in my arm, but he ignored me, and continued to complain that he'd had plans for some 'alone time' that afternoon, and now he couldn't go.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>I had no clue he was planning on going out.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Honestly, at that point, I had visions of chucking my coffee at his head. Still in the mug.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>Luckily, I'm not a violent person, and really, REALLY like my mug.</b><br />
<br />
<b>I took a moment...several moments...until I was able to speak coherently, and not go into a flying rage.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>I went outside, where he was sitting, and in the quietest voice possible, explained exactly what I'd gone through the night before, and that him throwing a tantrum over plans he hadn't even made, let alone told me about, was ridiculous. There was probably more said, but that's what it boiled down to.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Honestly, in seven years, its the first time I could completely visualize him moving out...complete with what I'd say and do to get to that point and beyond. Not good. Not good at all.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>I went to bed around 8 am. Yes, he'd apologized several times before I went to bed, but I wasn't caring.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Waking up at 730 pm, I was just in time to put the kids to bed. I was amazed that I hadn't been woken up earlier, like around 4 pm. </b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>I was back in bed by 9.</b><br />
<br />
<b>I feel better about life in general, and my marriage in particular right now. Arm is still not back to normal, but at least the Charley horse isn't in spasm.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>I have a picture I keep by my computer, to help me in my anger towards Wolf, to let me let go of it, and get on with my marriage. </b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c394/Impish_Mom/receptionkiss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c394/Impish_Mom/receptionkiss.jpg" /><b>D</b></a></div><b>Don't blame me for the teal and yellow. MIL did that without our knowledge, and definitely without our consent! </b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1434773906503267409.post-5926032330385979112010-07-15T10:44:00.000-07:002010-07-15T10:44:26.607-07:00I Survived<b></b><br />
<b>My gf K has been busy getting ready for a vacation, but thank God she had the ability to see me through this past wknd. Unfortunately for her, I fell apart the last day or so before she left...especially the last night when she stopped by. All the ugliness that I had just sort of washed up out of my soul and spewed out my mouth. Not towards her, but all the self loathing I've ever had.<br />
<br />
The wknd...I saw my parents and had MIL here all wknd. Its a wknd never, EVER to be repeated. I can't handle both in the same set of days.<br />
<br />
Funny enough, my parents behaved, my MIL was...behaved for her (still those moments that you just stared slack jawed at her), but my marriage is what suffered for it. Wolf allowed his anger to be more important to him than I was in terms of being there for me when I needed him.<br />
<br />
I did tell him all of this, and the poor man tried to make it up. Including buying me Hagen Daz ice cream. Unfortunately, after 7 yrs of marriage, he's not caught on to the fact I'm strictly a Ben and Jerry's girl. I loathe Hagen Daz. <img alt="" border="0" class="inlineimg" src="http://www.welltrainedmind.com/forums/images/smilies/lol.gif" title="Lol" /><br />
<br />
I'd been so numb since Saturday that Mon and Tues was just pure anger. Now that that's over, I set about apologizing to those I've lashed out at, and working to put my marriage back together. Not 'back together' in the sense that he's moving out, but to stitch up the tears that have been created in the fabric, if that makes sense. Its hard to deal with someone that says simply, "I don't care." and that's where I've been.<br />
<br />
I think the hardest thing has been to discover that there's nothing left btwn my parents and I. I don't have any 'daughter' feelings for them left. My mother gave me a lovely angel figure with a mother-daughter inscription...I immediately put it up in my closet to give to Diva some day. Absolutely no desire to have it up in my house in regards to her and I.</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b><br />
I've been struggling with what it means about me as a person. If I can be so unfeeling to the ppl that raised me, feeling no more emotion towards them than neighbours who had known me as a child, what does that say about me? I still haven't figured that one out yet. Wolf's suggested that perhaps it means I'm stronger than I used to be, that I'm not needing their love or approval. That seems so sad, so cold somehow. I just don't honestly know.</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03672420897748374258noreply@blogger.com2