All kinds of fun

I'm pissy today, probably because I'm fighting a mild sickness and it sorta feels like the boogers might be winning. My arsenal is zicam rapid melts, vitamin C and lots and lots of tea with local honey and lemon. What am I missing? Oh, I also spent all day yesterday with my ass plastered to the couch watching back to back episodes of Lost.

The result of this is that today, my head is still pounding, my throat is still sore, but I also feel lethargic, doughy and brain dead. Win! I worked out this morning, after a 3 day reprieve, thinking that maybe I just needed to sweat it all out. Am kind of thinking this was a wee bit stupid.

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On the mothering front, I'm feeling a little substandard lately...work and my volunteer stuff and just plain old life has been demanding and I just feel like my nerves are frayed by the end of the day. Its so hard to be fighting with a now two-year-old who wants to do everything "AH BAH MAH-SELF!!!!!"

90% of the time, he is an absolute joy- so quick with the "love you!"'s and hugs and giggles and silliness but then we'll reach that point where we NEED to be out the door or getting dressed or picking up toys and he will just completely lose his shit. I know its totally normal but some days I close my eyes, count to 10 and wish for nothing more than just a generous helping of Patience because I can feel my blood pressure rising and the desire to just throw my own self down on the carpet and tantrum right along with my kid.

I know. I'm so adult.

2

Dear Otto,

Two years ago, I was in the throes of labor: sweating, panting, walking the halls...gripping the husband's hand for dear life. It was a cold, stormy day, a lot like today actually. But I was hot and very alive... and ready to get it over with already. :-)

But it was so, so worth it.

Happy Birthday, love.

Protect the Executives!

Protect Insurance Companies PSA from Will Ferrell

...and Puppy Dog Tales

Greetings from gray-skied, cool-breezed, very fall-like Wyoming. Autumn has sent her calling cards in the way of cold, clear nights and the first hints of yellow and red on the mountains. We could mourn the end of summer, but seeing as how this is my favorite time of year, its hard to be sad.

In fact, I'm getting into the spirit, doing some cleaning and organizing at home, some closet shifting- moving the Capri pants and tank tops to the top shelf, bringing down the sweaters- burning pumpkin spice candles and buying jugs of organic apple cider to combine with red hot candies (that's right- its white trash apple cider time!) for the most delicious hot apple cider ever.

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This just in: My kid is a goofball. But cute as hell.

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Also! OMG! We got to meet our puppy this weekend! It was so very much fun and it was so difficult to choose which puppy would live with us...all 5 we had to choose from were wonderful. We settled on the little beauty below. Her name is Ruby. We <3 her.


(Just realized this might be the first time I've ever posted a full on picture of myself on this blog. Weird.)

Isn't she the bee's knees?

My father has already had the talk with me about why didn't we choose a shelter/rescue dog? Here's what I have to say about that: I was all for it. My entire childhood, we had shelter/rescue dogs. My brother works for the Humane Society. I GET it. But. This was a family decision and my husband just felt more comfortable having a dog who's past we were sure of since we have such a small child. Not to mention, the breeds we were interested in are very difficult to find in shelters. We have, however, already talked about getting a second dog-a rescue dog- when Otto is a little older. But right now, a puppy from a reliable, local breeder was the way to go for us.

And we did really love the breeder. They live up in the Colorado mountains on an absolutely gorgeous piece of land. We were able not only to meet all the puppies, but both parents and all the other dogs (I counted 11 total, counting the six puppies.) We were in her warm, inviting living room for an hour and a half, playing with roly-poly, warm, good-smelling puppies. On our way out the door, she sent us home with a half-dozen locally grown peaches. You know, just because. You tell me that doesn't sound like a wonderful Saturday morning.

They should try this as an Enhanced Interrogation Technique. Seriously.

Breaking news:

I had surgery on my left leg for varicose veins. I KNOW, RIGHT!?!!? I am TRULY an 80 year old woman in a 32 (gulp) year old body. Want the deets? Of COURSE you do. (Stop reading if you are easily disgusted, have a weak stomach or are generally a pansy.)

I went in last Thursday to have a "procedure" done that I have been agonizing about for the last month. My argument with myself went something like this: "Do I? Don't I?..... Yes my veins cause me daily pain, yes I've had blood clots in them...and yeah, they are super ugly and make me feel like an old lady...But... Even though I've met my deductible, it will be expensive as shit..... and not to mention the greater question of the PAIN?!?!"

Needless to say, the vain (haha! I am so funny) part of me and the part that was tired of the first step out of bed every morning hurting like a mothereffer won out. The doctor's office, so bright and clean and shiny and billed as a 'medical spa' lured me in with their promises of 'minimally invasive' and 'very cosmetic results' and boy I was a sucker. I was told that most people just relax and "go to sleep" during the "procedure." THESE WERE THEIR EXACT WORDS.

The thing was outpatient, and done under local anesthetic. WHY this is, I have no farking idea because I was about to embark upon one of, if not THE most awful medical/bodily experience of my life and this is coming from a person who had an ENTIRE HUMAN BABY WITH (ALMOST) NO PAIN MEDS OF ANY KIND. AND many tattoos. Let me tell you- varicose vein surgery is worse.

It started innocently enough- they gave me an Rx for a Xan@x and some cream to numb up my leg (only the upper thigh and in retrospect, it didn't really seem to work. Like, at all.) No problem. Makes sense. This, however, lured me into a false sense of calm and well being that flew out the window once the NUMEROUS injections to supposedly numb my leg began. I'm talking many, many injections. Each one hurt like hell. And the whole time, I am basically blindfolded because they are using a laser on my thigh so I have no earthly idea what the fuck is going on because I can't see for shit and all I hear is the FASCINATING discussion of what dog foods are best for freaking Portuguese water dogs and they are going on as if I'm not even in the room wondering what the HELL THEY ARE DOING TO MY LEG!

Then the tugging began. As in they were literally cutting my leg open and tugging the vein out. They did this in about 12 different spots up and down my leg. It was disgusting and horrible and I am Never. Doing. That. Again. The only thing that got me through with any shred of sanity still intact was that I had the presence of mind to bring my Zune along and had KaiserCartel cranked after I realized that they weren't going to tell me what was going on.

And now, I'm left with a poor, bruised, cut up appendage that Dr. Frankenstein would be quite proud of and instructions to wear compression stockings for two weeks and not do anything that will break a sweat a solid inner conviction that freedom from varicose veins cannot POSSIBLY be worth what I just put myself through.

I think the lesson here is, to paraphrase a favorite film: Beauty is PAIN. Anyone who says differently is selling something. Like stupid varicose vein surgery.

The end.



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Oh, and President Obama gave a speech for schoolkids and the world did NOT come to a screeching, zombie-ridden halt? WHAT ARE THE ODDS?!?!?!

And So It Goes

Here we are.

Another school year underway, and leaves are already littering the streets- a bit prematurely due to a freak hailstorm last weekend. The temps are consistently in the 70's and I can feel Fall breathing down my neck on my early morning runs.

I spend my days as a mother, a wife, an employee, a cook, a friend, a daughter, a sister, a storyteller, a coffee buyer, a reader, a pianist. I multitask at work: One side of my brain is actually working, the other side is hatching ideas for fall knitting projects, composing a shopping list of clothes Otto needs for winter, worrying about various random problems of friends and family.

The days fly by.

Fall is my favorite time of year, though. It always feels more cleansing, more renewing than Spring does. Maybe its the conditioning growing up with the new school year mentality- new pencils, new notebooks, new shoes I probably begged for for months.

Now in my adult life that sense of 'newness' has stayed with me even though I'm at the same old job and now wear the same shoes year after year until the soles wear through enough to justify a new pair. Working for a university keeps me in tune with the school year, however, so I'm still tied to the idea of new beginnings happening in the fall.

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The little guy's 2nd birthday is this month and OMG how did this happen?? Blowing my mind.

My birthday was fine. Really good, actually. We had a quiet backyard get-together with close friends, cake, and presents. 32 doesn't feel that different from 31.

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I'll leave you with a new musical discovery I'm loving right now: