...a little bit of this, and a little bit of that...
...a journey through my ups and downs...
Look what my recent upgrade did to my posts. What’s with all those funky characters with each period? Now I have to run a cleanup on the entire database (SCARY!!) or just ignore it for now.
I’ll ignore it for now. But I know it’s going to BUG me. Grrrrrrr.
I wonder if it has something to do with the Christmas window, when sentiments are stirred, but I’ve noticed a flurry of activity on FaceBook. I’ve ignored FB for the most part since it came out, being the suspicious type and also a little freaked out at the notion of so much personal information floating about out there, but a few days ago I decided to join. Once in, I learned that many of my family members are in. We already have our own personal family message board that my BIL launched on Christmas Eve, 1999, on which we’ve chalked up 11,961 message so far. Amazing! And now there is FB. I noticed that most of our join dates are within the last week or so, which is interesting, since we joined independently of one another, for whatever our own reasons were, and nobody mentioned they were doing it. Once in, though, we found each other. It reminds me of that song, Escape, I think it’s called, “If you like pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain…”
In retrospect, I could have been a bit smarter about the sign-up process, like the part where you give them your name. Your real name. Now, the guilt-ridden catholic schoolgirl in me considered using an alias, then won over and used the real deal. Next, all these pictures of people I might know popped up, with the instruction to click on anyone I might know. So I did. THANK THE HEAVENS ABOVE I didn’t click on all the ones I recognized. Little did I know that FB would send these folks a friendship invitation. My social anxiety just kicked up a notch. I mean, I clicked the picture of my first love, from a quarter century ago. I only realized after the fact that he’d been invited to be my FB friend, and I didn’t know how to take back the invitation. No harm done, he’s a fine person and seems to be living a fine life. Awkward moment for me, though!
And then there’s the matter of anonymity. In a way, I’m glad I used my real name on FB, because I don’t know that I’d want any and all of my life acquaintances to read my blog (no worries, really, there’s very little traffic here!), and I don’t mind my blog friends who are on FB knowing my real name. It’s not too hard for the two worlds to collide, though, if one but follows the yellow brick road.
Now, I realize that an exhaustive (and exhausting) whinge is self-indulgent, but it got me through another pumping session, and for that it was well worth it.
That is all.
I don’t know what happened to my comments with the other theme. They just vanished. I’ll need to go see what got corrupted in my theme files, but am too lazy to do that now. So here’s another theme for the time being. The comments seem to work.
Babes in arms. Soon.
There has been a marked silence in blogland lately, particularly amongst the ladies in waiting. I’ve been hoping that we are all just going through the frantic and harried late third trimester nesting times in which all is well with the babes, and we are just too busy with wrapping together the pieces of our lives that need to be taken care of before our bundles of joy arrive. It can be so stressful, these last few weeks, when the doctors say to heed the movements and make sure you feel at least 10 movements every two hours, and if not, CALL. I’m finding myself looking at the clock, wondering why LB hasn’t moved, gently prodding my belly to see if I can get him to squirm, and either feeling panic or joy when I don’t or do get a response. And then there’s the fear that I’ll go into labor at any time, and even though he’s a big robust boy already, it’s still too early, so please, please don’t come yet. And then there’s the office. The loads and loads of loose ends to tie up. All the things to get in order for an extended absence. Finding all the things that must be delegated and delegating them properly so that all will be well. Finishing things that have been in work for ages. Anticipating what might come up whilst away, just in case. The management tends to get a bit nervous when they know you are single thread and there’s nobody else who can fill in for task X, should the need arise. And even though I am single thread on many things I do, the chances are that no emergencies will arise in my absence. And the company will go on. My single threadedness remains only the smallest drop in a very large bucket. So I won’t actually let that bother me. Much. I have much more important things on the horizon with which to prioritize my emotions, thoughts, and energy.
Today I’ve caught up on several posts and projects that have been rattling around. I made some bibs for our bloggy babes. My hand painting is crude – the pencil sketches turned out much nicer than the actual product, once rendered in paint. And even though it’s not much, and they didn’t turn out as well as I’d hoped and imagined, it’s something that I wanted to do.
Now, to send them off!
I pray. Why? Because the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. And I believe that.
I think about beliefs and why we believe the things that we believe. People kill and maim and fight wars over differences in beliefs. If I could project myself out into the heavens and look down on the earth, so as to get the big picture perspective, what would I see’ Would it make any sense’ I would ask myself, “Why'”
There is faith, there is tradition, and there is loyalty. I see fierce loyalties to things like sports teams, towns, schools, countries, religions. There is intellectual loyalty and emotional loyalty. I can understand intellectual loyalty, because it has a basis of reason. I am somewhat baffled by emotional loyalty. Why does it matter if Team A beat Team B’ Did they play well’ Did they play their best’ Do I have to side with Team A because they’re based in my home town’ What if I think Team B is the better team’ Will I be ostracized for favoring Team B’ Why does it matter if I’m a Star Bellied Sneech or a North-going Zax’ Loyalty is a very strange thing indeed.
There are those who are loyal based on tradition. Something is taught and passed on, and perhaps not ever questioned or understood, but held fast to all the same. This also baffles me. To me, loyalty is something that must be earned. Questioning is therefore essential.
There is patriotism. Now that makes almost no sense to me. Who can control where they are born? I’m GRATEFUL to have been born into a (relatively) free country. And I love the land of my youth. Because it’s the land of my youth. But I’m not patriotic in the sense that I think my country is better than any other country. What would give me that right? But to delve further into these questions would mean that I’d have to delve into politics and other things of which I am painfully and shockingly ignorant. And that wearies me. So I will let it rest that I am thankful to live the life that I’m living, where I happen to be.
There is a book movement sweeping the country, fueled in part by Oprah, I suspect. Eat, Pray, Love. I haven’t read the book, but for some reason, Mr. Gadget put Oprah on the other day, and that was the topic du jour. He then left the room. It was very strange on his part, and I sat scratching my head in bewilderment over his behavior, while listening to the women and their stories. I have seen the book in passing, and thought that it sounded interesting. Anything that starts with ‘Eat’ and ends with ‘Love’ must have some sort of goodness to it. One thing that struck a nice chord with me was the suggestion to write down the happiest moment of every day in a gratitude journal, and to ask yourself what you really, really, really want. (It’s an earnest way to probe.) I was going to start blogging my happiest moments each day, but am a bit wary, due to that nanomobololrorljrmormeoeremrmmooo hullaballoo. I know that these things can become tedious if one makes a commitment. (I’m not so good at commitments, I acknowledge, because I knew better than to sign up for nanonaonemoemrn and I’m just about ready to quit seeing my chiroquacker, which is mostly due to him wanting me to “commit to my health.” And while we’re on the topic of commitment phobia and true confessions, let me just say that I was filled with an overwhelming feeling of Good LORD, what am I getting myself into and WHAT AM I DOING???? and no I DON’T! I know not what when I uttered those two words, “I do.”) All that aside, I bought the book, and plan to read it. Perhaps over Christmas break. Either way, I’m making a deliberate effort to think of the happiest moment of my day each night, just before I fall asleep. It’s good to end the day on a high note.
I don’t know where I was going with this post. I started the draft eons ago. Maybe just to document that I am perplexed about life in general. Or not. I must have been inspired about something. But for now, I’m concentrating on each and every day’s happiest moments.
Today’s? Remembering a dream from last night, in which Mr. Gadget and I shared on of those I – love – you – through – every – fiber – of – your – being looks, and kissed a long and beautiful I – love – you – through – every – fiber – of – your – being kisses. Even if it never happens during consciousness, at least the angels have reminded me that there is love. I’ll treasure that moment, even if it was only a dream. (Oh yes, there is love, but the expression in real life… …is not so sweet as the perfection found in dreams…)
And the husband, reading only fragments over my shoulder, says, “Who is James Five Sixteen? Your blogging pal buddy friend that you’re writing secret messages to?”
Yes Dear. That’s it.
It’s been one of those days. Rain. Wind. Dreary gray sky. Too much work and not enough time. A snit with the spouse, in which he hung up the telephone. I mean, how rude. RUDE! I would never do such a thing. Granted, I made a poor choice of words, but was hung up on in the midst of trying to repair that choice of words. So. How immature and annoying. Sometimes there’s no getting through a snit, other than to wait and let everything settle. I hate not having resolution though. Loose ends bug me. He probably thinks I should apologize, but I’m not planning on it, even though it would be a generous and kind thing for me to do.
Consequently, my will to overcompensate with food has superseded the power of the pill (that mood regulating wonder), and I am quite overly sated now after a breakfast, lunch, and afternoon bowl of bean soup. There’s just enough left for one more serving this evening, if I so choose. I don’t even want to think of what my blood sugar might be. I’m sure it’s skyrocketed up, up and away.
On a positive note, I’ve discovered the wonders of pressure cooking. I made a fabulous bean soup in an hour. Not an overnight simmer. Well, I did presoak the beans, but I’m used to the crock pot or an all day stove top simmer. But with pressure? One hour tops! I made a pot roast in under an hour this week also. The meat wasn’t as tender as I’d have liked, but it was a low budget cut, previously frozen, and I didn’t allow it to thaw properly on its own. If I try again, I might use fresh meat of a better grade. It won’t be for a while though. I’m all beefed out.
Work has drained me. Sometimes when there’s a mammoth task that goes on and on and on, it gets tedious and exhausting. I would have liked to have had some time for blogging this week, but alas, it wasn’t to be. In fact, much as I love to visit blogs page by page, I subscribed to bloglines so that I can see everyone’s recent posts at a glance, without visiting each individual blog. It’s such a time saver, albeit much less personal.
I’m so looking forward to the weekend, in which I plan to visit my sister and see her scrumptious little boy, now 3 months old. Hopefully the marital strife will have blown over by then.
There’s really no significance behind the picture, other than I think it’s pretty. I like the way other bloggers post pictures of pretty or interesting or pretty interesting things on their blogs. I don’t have pretty or interesting or pretty interesting things happening in my life, in general, but why not post a pretty picture to add a little flourish to an otherwise dull post?
I’m analyzing the side effects of this Zoloft journey. Objectively and subjectively. The diarrhea was very short-lived, thankfully. Less than one day, really. Today is Day 4. I feel a little dizzy or loopy, tired, and scattered. Less anxious, though. My neck and back are killing me, but that’s probably from my chiroquackery. Yesterday I had the mother of all migraines. I don’t know if it was Zoloft related or not, but it’s certainly nothing that I want to repeat any time soon. There was less than no appetite, and nausea for sure, but those accompany migraine, so I can’t determine whether one caused another or whether one exacerbated the other, neither, or both. Migraine does a number on blood sugar, I see. No food and elevated glucose. I’d have liked to have taken ibuprofen to help the headache, but recently read that ibuprofen usage at the time of conception dramatically increases the chance of miscarriage. Not that I’ve conceived again, but if it’s at all in the realm of possibility, another miscarriage is the very last thing that I want to experience any time soon. So I took some acetaminophen. It didn’t help. I waited a few hours, did some frantic Google searching on the safety of Vicodin with Zoloft, found nothing concrete, and decided to just take the plunge and hope for the best. I stockpile my Vicodin, if ever I get a prescription, so that I have something for emergencies as this. It helped, in that it kept the pounding at bay so that I could get through the day. I thought the caffeine from some strong coffee might help, but I simply couldn’t stomach the idea of anything.
Did I mention that I was watching five kids this weekend? 15 yog, 11 yog, 7 yob, 2 yob, and 6 mos girl. Sitting on the floor at 3 a.m. holding a teething infant with diarrhea and a blistery red diaper rash, trying to change her diaper without inflicting too much pain, feeding her, comforting her, and trying to get her to go back to sleep, all the while breathing slowly through the pounding in my head, and repeating over and over again, Oh dear God, Oh dear God, why do I think I want another child, Oh dear God my head hurts, please don’t let me throw up. Granted, it’s a big step to go instantly from one child to five, and the migraine made it nearly unbearable. I love my nieces and nephew desperately, but how relieved I was for that day to be over! It takes a full night’s sleep for me to recover from a migraine, for some reason.
It fills my heart to bursting, though, to watch the joy in my son’s face as he plays with his cousin. Two rugged beautiful boys chasing each other in circles, running non-stop through the house, upstairs, downstairs, round and round and round, inside, outside, and back again.
It fills my heart with wonder to watch these beautiful children, and untold gratitude that they belong to us.
When each morning for the past couple of weeks I am greeted with a not-so-friendly message that my computer has recovered from a serious error, and would I like to read the details in the error log, I wonder to myself whether my trusty desktop might be nearing the end of its useful life and the thought briefly passes through my mind that it might behoove me to back up my data. However, I have not yet backed up my data. I should. I know. I did back it up in December. Mostly. Sigh. One more of the things in my life I want to organize, sort, scour, or purge.
Maybe tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the weekend. Or next weekend.
I did, however, do something wild and out of the ordinary. I bought a brand spanking new laptop. I’ve been looking at them for some time, but have always talked myself out of it. All those ominous error messages of impending doom sort of scared me into action, though. Plus, the bonus I received at work last week helped as well. Woohoo! Bonuses are always good. Few and far between, to be sure, but very welcome when they happen.
So, here I am, with my fancy new machine, sitting on the couch blogging, while Mr. Gadget watches American Idol and Mr. Busy Body stands on a step stool surveying his domain, considering what toys he will play with next. The child loves to climb on things, and thankfully, a step stool satisfies his climbing tendencies while maintaining a fairly close proximity to the floor and relative safety (apart from the obstacle course of toys scattered at his feet).
I am sitting on the couch blogging. Imagine it! Although, I still feel guilty, but at least my body is in the same room as the rest of my family.
The computer is kind of odd-looking. It’s a Dell E1705, which has a giant screen (with incredible definition and resolution – yay!) and a tiny keyboard. I don’t know why they didn’t put a larger keyboard in it, since it has the real estate. I was going to wait for them to improve upon that before jumping in and buying one, but there was the writing on the wall…. ….so I didn’t wait. It’s got Windows Vista, which I also wasn’t too enthused about. At least not for a few months, in case they need to work out the kinks. And surely there will be kinks. I’m okay with it, though. All of it. Because it’s new! I have a new computer! Woohoo!
