A Pink Anniversary

I could have handled the sinuses.

It moving to my chest was to be expected.  For me.  Everything moves to my chest.  I have a great chest, after all.

But what I woke up to last Tuesday, the day before my 10-year-anniversary, was a bit much.

I woke up for my shower at about 6.  When I got out and went to lie back down to snooze and meditate, and just procrastinate on being awake (A vital part of my wake-up routine, I schedule it in.  This is why I have 4 different alarms spread between nearly 2 hours every work morning.) I realized I couldn’t shut my eyes, either one, without an intense burning sensation.  It was like the sand paper was covered in acid, as it sanded my eyeballs smooth.  I got a wet washcloth and pressed it hard over my shut eyes and that allowed me to keep them closed.  45 minutes later, I was fantastic and good-to-go.  Aside from the sinus crud.

As the morning progressed, I noticed my eyes were burning, and I kept losing vision.  In both eyes.  I could blink it back, but my vision kept blurring and getting foggy.

Granted, the foggy made sense when I looked in the mirror over my lunch break and observed the layer of snot covering both eyeballs.  Also, the pink and swollen.

Now, I don’t exactly have a ton of experience with pink eye.  I never got it as a child that I know of.  Only my middle little has had it of my 3, and his was so bad his eye was swollen shut.

But while I’m no genius and only play a doctor on the internet, if the eye oozes, you get thee to an eye doctor!  Thank nacho cheese god (a minor god… or major depending on your love of the cheese) for them being able to get me in same day, no notice.

Sure enough.  Thank sweet baby Buddha that it was bacterial pink eye and not viral.  I was only contagious if my eyeball made out with other eyeballs.  Totally killed its plans for the night but I kept it in isolation.  In my head. (That joke was officially taken too far.  I’m sorry.  Not sorry enough to take it down, mind you.  But sorry enough to apologize.)

I’m a baby when it comes to my eyes and putting stuff in them.  Contacts?  No thanks.  The puff of air during the eye exam?  First time in my life I consented, and only because I had a double eye infection.  Eye drops?  Only if I’m dying at it will be my only savior.

Well, guess what.  Pink eye?  I was counting the minutes until my next eye drop dose.  Oh, the sweet and instant relief.  Oh glory to the good stuff!

Granted, I did confirm I could close my eyes, drop it in the corner, and then blink it into place.  The good doctor suggested an extra drop each dose, then ordered me a slightly larger bottle.

Still.  Progress.

So yes, for my anniversary date, I was one hell of a hot mess.  We went to dinner and then played pool, with maximum strength sinus meds and eye meds in tow.

I was bringing sexy back!

Apparently the theme for this anniversary.

Because later that night, I brought sexy back.

And I ain’t referring to eyeball snot. *wink*

*wink*

Ten Years

I have been married for 10 years as of today.  That is more than 1/3rd of my life.  No joke.  I’m 30-years-old at the end of this year, but not yet.  So my math holds tight.

Way back, before Luke was born, when Pat and I were separated and he had just moved out with our son, my mom told me she didn’t think we’d last.  Pat was a nice guy but…

Thank you, mother, for driving me back to my husband with a determination to make things work, better than anything else could have.

Even now, 6-7 years later, when we go through rocky periods, I reflect back on that moment with my mom, and really all the odds out there, which are not in our favor, and my sheer bullheadedness kicks in and I’ll be damned if I’m going to fall to a statistic.  I enjoy beating odds.

And yes, we have rocky periods.  Sometimes they last days or hours, other times they last months.  I think that’s normal.

Marriage is work whether it’s in year one or year fifty.  Marriage is a lot of work.  It takes effort, patience and in my case, bullheadedness.  And sometimes things aren’t perfect.

But other times things are exactly how Nicholas Sparks would lead you to believe.

Then the rest of the time things aren’t over the moon, but they aren’t in a swamp either, and we can go through the day-to-day married to our best friend, raising our kids, and just enjoying a state of low to no drama, and general contentment.

That, my friends, is a healthy marriage.  The highs, the lows, and the sweet, normal, between.

Happy anniversary, my love.  You are my best friend and my first real love that doesn’t involve the color white and a pedestal.  So with that in mind, I promise not to lose my bullheadedness anytime soon.

(Edit in response to Pat’s response (Really?!?!?) to me singing love songs while writing this: “I’m writing our anniversary post!  It goes live Wednesday at 1oAM  and if you don’t read it, I’ll take back everything I said in it!”)

(Second Edit: Wow, I linked to some crappy times up there.  So I think I should link to where I realized how much Pat loves me. And why our marriage works so wellWhy I love him.  And how he became my hero.  Oh, and he held true to his promise about The Bloggess, though my mom and sister took me, he stayed with the kids making it all possible.)

I’m damn lucky.

Don’t Believe In Resolutions

My disinterest in New Years has been noted here before.  Usually with angst.  But as angst clears, stable reigns, and my disinterest continues, I can only conclude that it’s just not my holiday.  As such my drive to do an epic post recapping the last year just isn’t there.  And I loath resolutions.  I suppose it’s because most resolutions I see people make, end up being broken.

I suppose the problem with resolutions is that they are fueled by the fire of having to buy a new calendar.  People seem to think that this purchase will be the inspiration needed to change the core of their being.  And to make it all the more notable, they decided that they are going to change many things at once.  They are going to start a diet, join the gym, and stop smoking all on the same day.  The things is?  Join the gym and the rest might well follow.  After all, working out 1-3+ times a week makes you actually want to not put the time and sweat to waste.  Eating right, can fuel a desire to work out.  You’re denying yourself cake but you still have flabby arms, might as well do something about them too.  But start all 3 on the same day and you’ll burn out in a blaze a glory at the first aerobics class inspired nicotine and sweet tooth craving.  Funny how that works.

So, it is safe to say, I don’t make the false promises to myself or anyone that others call a resolution.

Doesn’t mean 2013 won’t bring me change.

While we may not be resolving to completely change our diets, Pat and I are at least steering it to consistency.  Inspired by both a need to fix Pat’s stomach issues, and regulate our food budget, we have put together a meal plan.  I almost added “of sorts” to the end of that, but no, it’s actually very specific.  Even with allowing 2 set days a week to be “dude fuck the menu” nights, each night for the next month is set.  Tuesdays will feature red meat.  Wednesdays are vegetarian featuring salads or pancakes.  Thursdays are homemade soup or rice based.  Fridays are pasta, fast and easy after a long day.  Saturdays are chicken whether shaked and baked or covered in sauce.  None of this is designed to be low in carbs or calories.  But it’s preset, will bring us together to the table, and the consistency should do wonders for Pat’s digestive system and our pocket book.  Even if it just means we need to plan to drop 200$ on food out of my pay check mid month.  We have 25-30 meals preplanned.  Some assigned nights, some set as alternatives.  And even if every Friday is pasta, with 4-5 different pasta options, it won’t get old.  Just consistent.

Along with this comes rules.  Not that we spent much of the government’s allotted food budget on crap, from here on out, all ice cream, candy and other goodies come out of my pay checks.  If we can’t afford it from those, we can’t afford it at all.  The only exception being if I can pull it out of my oven after putting it together from scratch.  A bag of powdered sugar/white sugar/flour lasts quite awhile and at 2-3$ a pop, isn’t a budget breaker.  Assuming, of course, I’m only buying them a couple times a year.  We also have a master list of the basic staples that we are sticking too, allotting only for common sense based exceptions, especially in the first few goes.  If I forgot to put bread on the master list when I made it, obviously bead can be bought.  And I might want to remember to add it to the list.  Again, hopefully this will fuel a huge change in our kitchen and our pocket book.

We assume we need to alter things as we go.

I’m also hoping that this consistency will lead to more green things fresh from the ground on the table, and other such tweaks as we go.  Even if it’s just substituting this slightly healthier cut of meat for that one.

Ah the gym.  The holidays prevented me from being as diligent there as I would prefer.  I’ve worked too many Wednesday mornings, and there were a couple set days they were simply closed.  We’ve also had some winter storms that have made the extra miles in the car not worth it, even for the gym.  But when I am able to go and when I’m able to go 3 times a week, I do notice a huge difference in my pain levels.

I haven’t taken anything for pain in about a month.  Give or take a few days.  I didn’t exactly mark my last pain pill in a book.  This isn’t to say I’ve spent the month pain free.  But it has been greatly reduced by working my joints with the weight machines, and the times I have hurt, I’ve resisted the pills (even though 99% of the time they were over the counter crap before anyways) because I know they don’t work well enough to be worth the ulcers they give.  Just ask Pat.  At least now with it being just me, my body, and the evil goodness I do to my body in the gym, I can better track what hurts and what helps that hurt.  Which, by-the-way, is the best motivation there is to make sure I get to the gym.  That and it’s a great way to work out aggression.

Speaking of the gym, I made it back to the climbing gym a couple weeks ago, and while there I made it to the top of a wall.  I’d been close before, but never all the way up.  I almost made it to the top of a second section, but my foot kept needing a hold that it kept slipping from and that unnerved me.  I may not have problems with heights, but I do take serious issue with falling.  I’m not done though.  I will go back and try and try again.  I may not be the next spider man, but it is fun and the pride I get from reaching the top is well worth the bruises.  I’m also excited to get back out in a kayak starting in the spring.  Lisa is still my adventure coach, we’re simply biding our time for the weather to break from the cold and warm enough that we don’t risk frost bite. Kayaking and snow don’t mix.

As far as work goes, since Lisa segued me into that, I’m contemplating a move towards a higher position.  I don’t really want to discuss the position yet.  I’m not sure I’m going to make the move so I don’t want to start a whole “good luck omg that would be awesome blah blah blahathon” just yet.  In a lot of ways, yes it would a good step towards my future, but it will also complicate some other areas.  It’s six of one and a half dozen of the other.  That being said, it is one of two of the next logical, linear steps in my career progression, so I imagine I’ll put in the application tomorrow.  Even then, there is no guarantees I’ll get the position.  I may be deemed not ready.  And I’ll be fine with that.  I don’t want to be given a position they don’t know if I’m ready for, just to prove I’m not ready and flame out in a fireball of having lost the bank a few grand.  If holding me back longer to gather more experience allows me to get it next time and hold onto it, and my job in general, then I’ll defer to their judgment and not begrudge it.

I also have to keep in mind I start school on April 29th.  Even going part time, the increase in stress at work paired with starting school may not be awesome.  I know I could do it and be fabulous if I pushed myself, but with me being comfortable enough where I’m at, I’m not being pushed by this drive for MORE POWER.  So I can take my time and ease myself into school without having to ease myself into a promotion at the same time.  Also?  Stable mental health is a beautiful thing.

But again, this is still a good, logical, eventually needed anyway, step in my progression at work, so I’m not going to not try for it.  I’m just also not going to stress over what happens if I don’t get it.  If I don’t get it, the only thing that will happen is that things will stay the same.  And with things being pretty damn good as they are now, I’m OK with that.

Heh.  I make it sound like I don’t want this promotion.  I actually do.  Just a different kind of want.  This isn’t a fire driven by obsession.  It’s a fire driven by a general desire to better myself.  Both burn bright, just different.  Both will have me apply, one will just leave me OK if I’m deemed not ready.  That is a good spot to be in.

I do, indeed, start school in a little less than 4 months.  Which seems so far off yet really isn’t.  Not the way time is flying.  I’ve already been given credit for the classes I took at CSCC.  I have one writing based (heh) test to take, and then I’ll be ready to start scheduling.  I also need to fill out my financial aid paperwork, but I can’t do that until February.  The placement test I can take much sooner.  I just have to see if I can find a proctor to take it at the local library with, or if I have to go downtown instead.  I’d prefer to avoid that as much as possible.

I’m fairly concrete that I’m working towards the business economics major.  It’s that or business management.  However, economics will cover the important part of the management courses, but management only dabbles into the economics.  I’m also looking forward to the economics.  Call me crazy… though I do believe the primary topic of this site did so for you.  I suppose I’m a bit of a numbers geek.  I also suppose that’s why I wanted a bank job/career.  Still heart broken that none of my coworkers love math as much as I do.  Go figure.  Gives me the self boost when my boss comes to me to solve a math equation for her for one of many reports.  To her well deserved defense, she was having an off day.

I’m diving into building my own personal and social life.  Defining Karen.  With the holiday season behind us, Lisa and I are renewing our commitment to our weekly girl’s nights.  Stacy and I are back at our twice a month plans.  And in my free-time, I’m devouring books and TV online.  Game of Thrones is a long but amazing read. Sheldon Cooper is a doof.  Also possibly my hero.  I’m sick and twisted that way.  I have, btw, combined the two (reading and BBT) and I have a good dozen books waiting to be read that promise to teach me some physics.  I’ve always been curious, Big Bang was just the final push.  Ironically, none of the books will cover string theory.  Oh well, they will be a start.  But I have about Twenty-five library books, and one borrowed from a friend, waiting to be read, so really how I have time to write out this post is beyond me.  Also, that’s probably the reason you haven’t seen me much.  Books and the Big Bang.

That and I’ve been too stable to have any drama to blog about.  Woe is me?  Yep.  I was put on, by choice, an anti-depressant a few months back to make sure the change of season didn’t knock me off my stable platform, but last month, when I went in and asked if I could be put on something I could take in the evening because I could never remember to take them at in the morning… well long story short I wasn’t taking it often enough to really be able to say I was on anything and I was still OK, so instead of messing around with a whole new med, I’m just back to a planned not being on anything.

FYI, what I was on gave a norepinephrine boost and I can’t have that boost after about 11AM if I ever wanted to get sleep at a decent hour.  I’m better at remembering meds well into the evening though.  That is the only part of my day that is consistent 95% of the time.  The morning varies too much based on when I go into work, if Luke has school, etc etc etc.  Some days I’m at work at 9:30, some days I’m at the gym at 9:30, and yet others I’m in bed or just getting ready for the day at 9:30.  And there is no use in trying to get me to remember anything before 9:30.  Or really, noon.  But I’m home almost every evening at 8:30 and I conveniently already have an alarm going off.

Any moods or emotions I am going through, other than happy, are too firmly based on logical reactions to what life hands me.  And most of that can be managed through me reading and regular exercise.  Weights and running work out my aggression and yoga or stretching work out my stress.  Reading is an escape based distraction.

I think, it’s not as much that my brain chemistry has changed, but more that I’ve better learned how to avoid certain situations and the skills needed to cope with what I can’t avoid.  After ten years together, Pat and I have learned each other and our marriage well enough to avoid major, yet stupid, fights.  But you can’t live with someone and never argue, so I also know how to better cope when they do crop up.  Whether it’s picking my battles, walking away till things settle, or whatever.  It helps that after ten years, there is a little less to fight about, and a bigger desire to not let something stupid set us apart.  And while that’s just one example of many, there you have it.

I’ve grown.

And resolution or not, I hope to continue that growth through the next calendar.  No set number based goals.  I’ll just wander down this path I’m on looking forward to the opportunities that come from it, and the growth that is sure to happen along the way.

And yes.  Happy New Year’s.

Broken Hearted

Sometimes it’s the little things that mean the most to me.  Like Pat, Thomas and I getting matching monogrammed stockings for T’s first Christmas.  My mom bought them for us.  Then gladly bought one for Luke when he entered our life.  When Sammy’s turn came mom was happy to purchase again, when I realized they had discontinued our design.  Mom even called up Land’s End asking if it was it at all possible a single teddy bear stocking remained in the darkest corner of their warehouse.  Nope.

My heart broke into a million pieces as I searched high and low across the internet with hopes that somewhere out there was this one little stocking I needed to complete the set.  Sure, Land’s End had other designs.  But to have her be the only one left out of the matching bears?  I couldn’t do it.

Finally, as it got too close to Christmas and a solution wasn’t coming, I decided to go with a dollar store, Baby’s 1st, pink thing to tide us over for a year.  I figured in 12 months time we could reach some solution.

That time has passed.  It’s exactly, from the time I’m typing this anyway, 1 month until Christmas.  A decision needs made.  Do I let her be the odd one out?  Do I replace all of them so that we have 5 that match?  Do we replace some this year and some next to break down the cost, praying we don’t rinse and repeat with another style discontinue?

What could possibly even take the place of those teddy bears I’ve loved for 10 years now? From that moment exactly 10 years ago when I first learned I was pregnant, we have been momma and papa bear.  Each baby in turn being our baby bear.  There is nothing that can take the place of this feeling.  And so few things could be a worthy second best, even.

I’m picky.  I don’t like change.  But my darling girl is my last baby bear and my heart hurts that I can’t get her that last stocking.  And with the clock ticking down and already hours spent searching for the next best thing, nothing else seems to be fitting what my heart is set on.  It’s doesn’t I suppose, have to be bears.  It just has to be as perfect as those bears were.  And simply put, nothing ever could be.

EDIT 12 HOURS LATER:

Oh happy days!  I searched and searched last night.  I took to Etsy as my last attempt at success.  And I found them.  THEM.  They aren’t needle point, but quilted sure is fine by me.  They are bears.  They are actually a cuter picture.  And at 7$ each, all 5 will cost the same as just 1 of the old ones.  I’m also supporting a crafter, not a corporation, which is an added win!

I emailed off the question of whether they had 5 on the spot, not yet sure if they were the answer I was looking for.  I don’t like change.  But after dreaming about them all night, and they having the boys go crazy for them when I gave them a peek the next morning, I knew I had my answer.  The deal was cinched when I heard back that she had exactly 5.  Exactly.  Five.

They’ve already been bought.

Giving Thanks

I suppose it’s a month early, but I’m very thankful this week.  Of all I’ve been handed, I’m keeping it in perspective and being thankful I wasn’t handed more than I can handle.

I could be cranky that it freakin snowed in October, or I can be thankful that’s all Sandy handed to us.

I could be cranky that my kids have to wear coats over their costumes this beggar’s night if we do go out, or I can be thankful that the neighborhood we will visit isn’t submerged in foot after foot of water.

I could be frustrated with the gas leak out back that will cause our gas to be shut off, taking away our heat for roughly 7 hours today, or I can be thankful that it’s only 7 hours, we have an electric heater, we won’t freeze, and, again, it’s only 7 hours.  We were preparing to lose power for days depending on how Sandy hit us.

I can be pissed off that the in-door trick-or-treat option provided to the community was an epic failure, or I can be thankful that they tried so hard.  It was set up weeks ago as an attempt to provide a safe alternative to hitting the streets, and they could not have foreseen the thousands that would see them as the safe haven for little kids who don’t understand and parents who can’t break little hearts by telling them trick-or-treat isn’t logical this year.

I can be upset at the cold, wind and rain, or I can be thankful I don’t have sharks swimming in my backyard.

I’m assuming my 9yo would be pissed if he knew he were missing out on shark action.  Shark week live and in 3D.

I can be amused that my 4yo is still obsessed with the weather channel, though I do wish my little worrier would watch more Dora and less Sandy, too little to understand what he is seeing on TV isn’t outside our back door.

I’m finding myself trying to take deep breaths and take things on one moment at a time.  The next moment is the 4yo’s class party*.  Then comes figuring out the plan for Halloween.  We were doing the in-door thing in-place of hitting the streets, but with it being a bust I’m not sure.  If it’s just cold, not wet, we’ll deal with coats.  As pissed as I was last week about having to cover the costumes, suddenly I’m shrugging it off.  As long as it isn’t wet.  If it is?  We’ll dress them up and go eat burgers and fries.  The candy can be bought tomorrow for half price anyway.

*So the 4yo’s preschool does not celebrate Halloween.  Instead, they are having a “Noah’s Ark” party.  While this was planned months if not years ago, I am finding no end of amusement in the theme considering the storms.  Irony.  Preschool should teach it.

Also note, while I don’t take the end of the Mayan calendar being the sign of dooms day seriously, I’m also amused that we’re all of 6 weeks from its end, and this week brought us the worst storm in recorded history.  I’m not saying NYC should sacrifice a virgin or 2, but maybe we should all hug our loved ones a little closer.  The end is near.

Or it’s not, but there is not such thing as hugging loved ones too much.