I think I knee'd to update!

This is probably going to be really boring, because I'm probably going to be writing some of the details that I'd like to remember later. So, if you want the cliff notes version...things are going relatively good!

Tomorrow will be two weeks since I had surgery, and I'm feeling a little better every day. The surgery apparently went well. They did a PCL reconstruction and saw that my medial meniscus was partially torn as well, so they trimmed that up. They did not have to do anything with the PLC (Posteror Lateral Corner), which saved me from having another huge scar and an even longer, harder recovery, so I was really happy about that. We got to the surgery center around 9:30am. The surgery center was amazing. The room where they prepped me for surgery was on the 15th floor and had an awesome view of Rice and Hermann Park. What a great way to distract you from all the pre-surgery worrying! The surgery itself lasted about three hours, which apparently is fairly long from what my surgeon said. It took me quite awhile to wake up, because they had given me phenergan (YAY!) so that I wouldn't wake up nauseous. I sort of remember getting in and out of my dad's suburban on the way home. I think we finally got home around 7:30pm. The only other thing I remember about that night was that I scarfed down two slices of pizza, because I was starving! The next few days are sort of a blur.

Aside from the pain, last week was actually pretty enjoyable. I LOVED hanging out with my mom all day. She spoiled me rotten. Actually, she spoiled all of us rotten. I thought K was going to throw himself on top of her car and beg her not to leave on Saturday morning when she left. She cooked wonderful meals, and even cooked several extra meals before she left and froze them to make things easier for us for the next few weeks. She organized Ryann's room, and made the cutest curtain for Ryann's closet. She took a white sheet and then sponge painted purple flowers with lime green stems on them, because those are the colors that Ryann's room is painted. We had taken the doors off of her closet months ago, so that we could put her dresser in her closet. She also made a curtain for our kitchen/breakfast nook window (out of dish towels...which sounds strange...but was SO adorable!). They turned out great. I'll have to take pictures and post them, because they both turned out really cute. She taxied me around and did all of my laundry and organized my pantry and was her usual Superwoman self. I can't tell you how much I love, respect and appreciate her. I would've been lost without her last week. I just can't imagine a better mom or better person in the world, and if I turn out to be half the woman/wife/mother she is, then I will consider my life a huge success.

Okay, back to the knee...I went to physical therapy twice last week and it was torture. I felt like such a wimp. I cried both times from all the pain. They've cut it down to once a week, but I still have to do the exercises at home every day. I went back to physical therapy yesterday and it went SO MUCH BETTER! I didn't cry once, so that's progress. They had been trying to get my quad to fire, and it just wasn't happening last week, but yesterday it was doing so much better. They hook me up to this muscle stimulation machine that shocks the hell out of me and they leave it on for 15 minutes. It shocks you for 10 seconds and then goes off for 10 seconds. While it is shocking me, I'm supposed to be doing a quad set, which is basically like trying to flex your quad. Last week, when they couldn't get my quad to fire, they kept turning it up higher until I was in tears. The only other real exercise I can do right now are straight leg raises. My first day of PT, I couldn't do them at all. My leg felt like it weighed 100 pounds and I couldn't lift it at all. Later that evening, I practiced until I could do it and was so excited when I actually did one that I ended up doing about 50. Because. I. Could. So two days later, when I went back to PT and was going to show off my accomplishment, she took my brace off to do one and the pain was unbearable. I just couldn't do them at all without my brace to keep my knee stable. (But I can now...hooray!) I've been working hard at home, trying to flex my quad and do the straight leg raises and trying to get my leg to extend fully, because I haven't been able to do that since my injury and that's one thing they really want me to work on.

I came back to work on Monday, and it's been going good. The hardest thing is that I still can't drive, so K has to drop me off. He was to be at work at 7am, so we drop Ryann off at my MIL's house and then he drops me off and I'm at work by 6:30am. So, we're waking up around 5am, which SUCKS! But hopefully, I'll be able to drive soon, and we can all sleep in a little more. Also, the bathrooms are somewhat far from my office, so it's a pain to get to them. My arms are so tired from the crutches, but I think they're getting stronger. The only other thing that is difficult is lunch. I'm spoiled to running out and getting whatever I want for lunch. Now, I'm very limited on what I can eat for lunch, because it has to be something that I can bring in my backpack, but doesn't have to be heated up (because I can't carry it from the kitchen to my office). My coworkers have been amazing, and would definitely heat things up for me, but I really don't want to impose. Plus, maybe this is a good way for me to lose weight or at least keep from gaining weight while I'm so pitifully inactive. I've been eating less for lunch. For example, one of those individual size servings of cereal (sans milk b/c I didn't have any at work) and an apple with peanut butter.

Okay, speaking of work, I better get to it. I wish I had a clever or even interesting way to wrap this up, but the truth is, that my brain is muddled from a combination of hydrocodone and waking up at 5am all week...so I've got nothing. Sorry!

Post op

Am still alive...so that's good! Surgery went well. Long, but well. I am taking lots of pain meds, but still hurting like hell, but hopefully that will ease soon. I go for my first check up tomorrow, so I should know a little more then. Am still terribly groggy, but will update when I'm able! I'm pissed that I'm not coherent enough to check out all of the blogs I love, but hope to catch up soon!

My mom is a Godsend! K has been really helpful, and so has Ryann. I have never felt so helpless. Not fun!

Issues and new shoes!

I've been trying to write this post for a week. I keep starting or meaning to start, but I keep getting overwhelmed. Overwhelmed overwhelmed overwhelmed. It's the story of my life, really. I get overwhelmed...and freeze! I do nothing. I feel ridiculously guilty for not doing what I know I should be doing, but I can't seem to make myself just.do.it! I stick my head in the sand and hope it goes away. My life is going to live itself without any effort from me. This post is going to miraculously write itself. Because I have a lot to say.

My grandmother is an immigrant from England, and she's a very interesting lady. She lives in San Antonio and has the coolest accent evah! She line dances and walks her dog over a mile every.single.day. She has a busier social life than I've had since...since...I don't even know when. She hasn't had an easy life. She and my grandfather divorced long before I was born, and I never met him. My father was the oldest of two boys and my uncle died in a plane crash when I was very young. She's strong and smart and I'm honored to know her, much less be related to her. She's the only grandparent of mine that is still alive and I don't see her near enough. Anyway, I think I mentioned in passing in another post that we're broke. We've been having some major financial issues. Last weekend, I received a check (or cheque, as she would write) from her for $5000. I was speechless, and that doesn't happen often. Her thinking is that she'd rather give me money now while she's still alive and I need it. I'm putting a big chunk of it into a savings account and saving it for future rainy days, but some of it is going to help with the rainy days I'm going through now. It's such a relief to not have to worry about how I'm going to pay the coinsurance for my surgery, etc... I feel so blessed to have such an amazing family who is always ready and willing to lend a hand and I feel so undeserving of all they do for me. Also? I'm in awe of how things seem to work out. I guess that's why (though you might not be able to tell it from this blog and all the venting I do) I'm such an optimist. Anyway...I'm blessed!

So last week when I started to write a post, my marriage seemed to be in fairly good shape. Today, I don't know how the hell it seems. K had been sleeping back in our bedroom for awhile and we seemed to be getting along. He went out of town on business this weekend, and we got into an argument while he was gone and he slept in the guest room last night. I don't know what he's going to do when my mom is here and he can't sleep in the guest bedroom . We're cordial and talking today, but I don't know how things stand. I can't put too much mental energy into it at the moment, because I'm too busy obsessing over my upcoming knee surgery. Obsessing and planning, but mostly obsessing because planning? Not my strong suit people! Well, that's not exactly true...I'm pretty good at planning, it's following through that is a bitch for me.

Aaaannnnyyyyywwwwaaaaaaaaayyyyy, surgery is this Friday. My parents will be here Thursday night. My mom is staying about a week, but my dad is only staying a day or two and then going to see his very awesome mom. I'm not really nervous about the actual surgery. I feel very confident in my surgeon (only partially b/c I've seen him so much on tv while watching Texans games the past few weeks and I figure if he's good enough for their knees...by golly...he's good enough for mine). I'm more worried about the pain afterwards. Right now, I'm not hurting all the time and when I am hurting, it's more achy than sharp, unbearable type pain. But I expect it to hurt like hell afterwards. And hello? Do you watch Brothers and Sisters b/c Justin's knee is hurt, too and he's really in a whole lotta pain? But he's not taking pain pills (and I will be)...so that's encouraging. I'm also REALLY worried about the logistics afterwards. I'm not really worried about the first week, because my mom is going to be here. But after that? Especially if K and I are not on good terms? I'm not looking forward to that. I think I am going to get Ryann's hair put in cornrows, so it's one less thing to worry about and maybe I'll get a maid to come every other week or every week, so that K doesn't go completely insane and the house doesn't get even MORE junkie! I'm worried about when I'm going to be able to drive and how I'm going to be on crutches for so long when it hurt my hands so badly to be on them for a week or two.

I'm worried and if there are two things I know well and am good at...it's worry and guilt. I'm overflowing with both at the moment. Oh and I'm overwhelmed...because there's a lot to do before my surgery and my surgery is Friday and that's what? 3 1/2 days away? Ohmygosh...am panicking! I'll probably go make a list (or go watch the end of the Cowboys game? Oh or maybe watch the Bachelor b/c I'm dvring it right now and he's going to switch w/his twin and that sounds entertaining), even though what I REALLY need to do is finish cleaning the guest bedroom. Because I did start it (OVER.A.WEEK.AGO!) and there's really not TOO much left to do, but I just can't seem to finish. I also need to clean the fridge out and organize the pantry, because I don't want my mom to work too much and she will...because she rocks...but I want to make it as easy as possible on her and on K. It's a good thing I work well under pressure, but boy, do I feel like I'm cutting it close and am not going to have time to do everything I want/need to do. Because I also want to get my eyebrows waxed and buy new Crocs before surgery and it would be a huge bonus if I had time to go to the mall and get some MAC makeup b/c my asshole...I mean, really sweet dog, Trixie, ate my lipstick and lip pencil and I'm out of powder. Ohmygosh and a haircut would be divine, but I don't see it happening!

Clearly...I have issues! (But I also have three new pairs of really awesome, really comfortable shoes from Target and that makes me happy!) So take that, issues!!

Stop the Abuse!

When I was 20 years old, I lived with a girlfriend of mine and her family. She was dating a guy who was physically abusive. The first time I actually witnessed the violence, we were at a party with about 30 people and he got really upset with her. They were standing in the street and he picked her up by her throat and was choking her. I immediately ran over and tried to pry his hands from her neck. He let go and literally tossed me aside with one hand (I was a tiny thing back then). I picked myself up from the pavement and tried again to break things up. In hindsight, it's unbelievable to me that there were so many other people at that party that just sat by and watched it happen. Why was I the only one to try to stop it? Anyway, he let go and we got in her car to go home. He jumped in the backseat and wouldn't get out, so my friend proceeded to keep driving to her house. I don't remember much about the drive, other than being completely terrified. I do remember that when we got a block or two from her house...he grabbed the control and threw the car into neutral. My friend got out of the car and ran the rest of the way home. I stayed in the car and was yelling and cursing at him telling him what an idiot and coward he was. I don't know what possessed me...what a stupid thing to do. I can't remember much after that from that night, but I think he must've eventually gotten out of the car and I must've driven it to her house. After that incident, I definitely encouraged her to get out of the relationship and also told her that if she decided to stay with him, I would still be her friend, but I didn't want to be around him.

A couple of months later, she broke up with him. One night shortly after that, we were driving around in her car. She and I were in the front seat and two of our guy friends were in the back seat. Her ex-boyfriend saw us and started following us. My girlfriend sped back to her house...it's a wonder we didn't wreck. When we got there, she jumped out of the car and ran inside. I didn't really think he would do anything to me, but I reached over to lock her door just to be safe. As I leaned back into my seat, he put his fist through the window where I was sitting and broke it and opened the door. I tried to climb through to the other side and I opened the door and was almost out of the door when he pulled me by my hair back into the car and started punching me in the head. The two guys in the backseat told him to stop, but that was about all they did. He finally stopped hitting me and I was able to stumble into the house. He left and we called the police. While the police were taking their statement, he called her house. He told her mom that he was going to kill me and their daughter and that we better leave town within two days.

The next morning, we went to the police station to file a restraining order, but were told that it wasn't worth the paper it was written on. We packed up our things and moved that day from Wichita*Falls to Arlington, Texas. We moved in with a friend of ours, who also happened to be an ex-boyfriend of hers (although could not be more different from the abusive ex). I had very long hair at the time, but it had been falling out in clumps where he had pulled it while he was hitting me. I had a piece of glass from the window stuck in my toe for months afterwards, and it was a constant reminder of what had happened. I was so happy when I finally got it out. I felt like I could move on. My girlfriend apparently wasn't completely over the abusive ex, because we found multiple calls to his job on our phone bill.

Life is strange, and I never would've guessed that I would end up back in Wichita*Falls, but I did about a year later. I moved into a maternity home there, and after giving birth to Ryann, we moved into our own apartment. I was out one night with a group of my girlfriends, when we ran into the guy who beat me up. One of my girlfriends, who knew the whole backstory, but lost any sort of intelligence when she was drinking, spent the night flirting with him. She lived out of town and was spending the night with me that night. At the end of the night, she told him that we would take him home. I was furious and told her that we would not, but another of our friends was driving and he did end up in the car with us. I let them know how uncomfortable I was with this and asked them to drop him off first, because I didn't want him to know where I lived. The next morning, when I got back from church, another of my friends informed me that the guy had been in my apartment while I was at church. Apparently, my "friend" invited him over. My "friend" ended up moving to town, working with me and dating the guy. Once she started dating him, we stopped talking. She got pregnant and called me to cry on my shoulder and I tried to be there for her. She ended up having a miscarriage, and broke up with the guy. We ended our "friendship" a couple of years later when she went to NYC on business and kissed K, who was my fiancé at the time. That's a whole other show!

I'm not quite sure how to wrap this up. It's a little surreal to think back to those times and I can't begin to tell you how much I've learned from those times or since those times. I think I could've handled it all a little better, but I'm proud of myself for standing up to him. It's mindblowing to me how common abuse is. It seems as though almost everyone has endured it in some form or another. It hurts my heart to see people or animals get bullied and abused! Let's put an end to the blame the victim mentality!

See Vodkarella for details on Blog Against Abuse day!

Life goes on...

I've learned that even in those moments that I'm desperately trying to slam on the brakes, life (and time) doesn't stop for anybody. At this point, I'm just trying to just keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep walking. Okay...limping! Things aren't exactly getting back to normal, but they're getting back to something.

My relationship with K is incredibly bizarre at the moment. What he said to me the other day was said out of anger, and I understand that. While we are still sleeping in separate bedrooms, we have been visiting each other's bed the past couple of nights. It's such a strange thing. I love him so much, but neither of us are really sure that we should be together. We had a good talk last night, and I tried to explain to him that I understood his frustrations, but that I just couldn't deal with it right now. My head is barely above water, and it's not like I'm not thinking about where our marriage is headed, but I really just can. not. deal. with it right now. We've sort of fallen back into old habits. There have been many times that one or both of us really feels like it's time to let go of our relationship, and what usually happens is that we ended up clinging to each other more tightly than ever. I think that's where we're at right now. I guess therapy was a good thing, but it was ludicrous to think that three sessions were going to change this familiar circle we're in. I feel sad and unsure of what the future holds, but I do think everything will be okay, one way or another.

Okay, now for some fun stuff! My SIL took her boys and Ryann to get their pictures taken this weekend. Sort of a last minute thing, but I think they turned out really cute:

This is one taken sort of "in between" shots, but I love it:

My baby is growing up!!! =(


One of my girlfriends told me (after my Wednesday from hell) that God must have some really incredible things right around the corner for me, since I'm going through so much at the moment. It really helps me to believe that.

Somebody up there hates me...

Somebody down here hates me, too! That would be K. I know I posted before that he hated me, well, he hates me again. Shockingly enough, it's for the exact two reasons he hated me before.

1. I'm messy
2. Our dogs

I'm never going to be the neatest or most organized person in the world. It's just not going to happen. I have ADD, and that's not really an excuse, but it sure as hell doesn't help. I'm so much better than I used to be, but hurting my leg and then getting sick has thrown a whole new kink into the system. It's not like I was really taking care of everything that needed to be taken care of before, but sick and injured, I'm able to take care of even less, so laundry duties and cooking and cleaning the kitchen duties have fallen on K. I can tell he resents me for it. That's fine. He doesn't really ever give me credit for the things I DO do, and if he's obviously having to work so much harder and do so much more and the house looks pretty much exactly like it did before I was hurt, then obviously I WAS doing SOMETHING to begin with, right? I guess not!

Also, and I will admit that this is my fault...our dogs have really done a number on our house. I'm honestly doing the best I can with them and I am at my wit's end. I love Trixie, but I was a huge idiot for getting her. I think I may have to try to find another home for her, and that breaks my heart. Another thing? (Because you can never have TOO many things go wrong at once) We're broke! Seriously broke! I am panicking and I feel like I am drowning or suffocating.

Anyway...so K let me know last night that as soon as my leg is better after surgery that he is leaving. I told him that it wasn't necessary to wait until then. I'm so angry and scared that I don't know what to do. I'm still sick...I've thrown up pretty much everything I've eaten since Saturday and I'm weak and exhausted. I REALLY do not need this right now. Talk about kicking a girl while she's down! I slept on the couch last night. This should be fun.

Wendy Whiner

So looking back on last Wednesday, I can see the humor in mishap after mishap after mishap. I can see that series of unfortunate events in a sitcom or something, because days like that don't really happen, do they? I like to think of it as my personal experiment with Murphy's Law. Murphy won! I bow to your law Murphy, now would you leave me alone and hook up with some karma law and go pick on Michael Vick or someone?

If I'm totally honest, I have to say that I feel like a big fat whiner ever since I hurt my knee. I know my husband is sick of hearing about it, and even more sick of having to do everything. Then, right when my knee started to feel well enough to actually contribute to the household, I get sick. I'm getting better, I think. Yesterday the nausea was overwhelming all day. Today I've thrown up once, but I don't feel constantly nauseous, so that's good! I still have a terrible cough, which is making my chest feel really sore. See? I feel like I'm whining again! And maybe I am? I'm ashamed of myself, because I know it could be worse. I know that I'm blessed.

I don't know if I talked about this before, but after I hurt my knee and was in the ER, I was a wreck. I was in excruciating pain and was exceedingly whiny. I was like this for hours. Until they wheeled a little boy, who was maybe five or six, into the ER who had been in a car wreck. He was awake and hooked up to all kinds of medical devices and screaming and crying that he needed to go the restroom. He broke my heart. I had long since stopped crying about my knee, but couldn't seem to stop crying for this tough little guy. It was sobering. K told me later that night after we got home, that he noticed how quiet I got once the little boy came into the ER. I wasn't really aware of how much seeing the little boy changed my perspective of my own injury, until it was pointed out to me. I've thought about the little boy many times since, and pray that he's fine.

Anyway, while we're on the subject of whining, let me give you the latest and greatest about my gimpy knee!! I went to my new doctor yesterday (who is FANTASTIC!!!!) and the good news is that he thinks my acl is fine. The bad news is that my pcl (posterior cruciate ligament) is completely torn (probably cleanly from the bone) and that my plc (posterolateral corner) is probably also torn. I'm having surgery on October 12th (tentatively) to reconstruct them both. The pcl can be done arthroscopically, but they actually have to cut me open a little more to repair that plc. Wow...that sounds much more gross when I write it. I was just fine hearing it. Basically, what that means to me is that I'll probably have some really cool scars. They're going to be reconstructing my knee with allograft, which is donor tissue from a cadaver, so that's sort of interesting. More bad news is that after the surgery, I'll be in a brace that locks my knee at full extension for six weeks. That's going to SUCK! I'm not looking forward to crutches. Besides the pain, one of the hardest things for me has been being able to adjust the way I sit. Before, I spent a great deal of time sitting with my left leg folded beneath me. It doesn't bend that way anymore, and won't be able to for several months probably, so that's no fun.

Anyway, ENOUGH whining for one day. I am feeling great that I actually know what is wrong and we have a plan and I have a surgeon who I'm completely confident in, etc... Also? My mommy is going to come help take care of me the week after I have surgery, so how could I NOT be excited about that? She's the best! K is really great and caring, but it will be great to have my mom here. Ryann is REALLY excited about that!

Jessica and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

This is what my Wednesday looked like:

1:30am - Decide to go to bed. Get up to take the dogs out for a last chance to potty and TOTALLY forget my knee is hurt. When Trixie jumps off the couch, I dive to get her, rendering me unable to move for ten minutes.

6:00am - Wake up to get ready for a day that promises to be really busy at work and am greeted by Ryann, who has a wicked fever, sore throat, headache and is throwing up.

7:00am-1:00pm - Take care of Ryann and formulate a plan that includes going by Ryann's school to pick up a paper she needs for an assignment that is due the following day, pick up my mri's and x-ray's from my dr to take to my new dr, swing by my job to send a time sensitive email and get some work to bring home with me and take Ryann to the doctor. If all of the stars are aligned correctly and time permits, I will then go to physical therapy.

1:20pm - Go to Ryann's school to pick up paper. After being ignored in the office for five minutes, the fire alarm goes off. That's right folks...fire drill!! Grrrreeeaaattt!! So we go sit outside and wait for that to end, and when it's all over, we are on our way upstairs to get the paper when we discover that the elevator isn't working. So I (slowly and painfully) take the stairs. We finally leave.

2:00pm - After leaving Ryann's school, she decides she would like a drink, so we head to Sonic. We're at the stop light and traffic starts moving, so I start moving, but look down to fix the velcro on my knee brace and run right in to the very kind man in the truck in front of me. His truck is not damaged at all, thank GOODNESS! My car is...but it looks mostly cosmetic. I think the poor man felt sorry for me hobbling out of my car in a freaking knee brace with tears streaming down my face. We finally get to Sonic, where they mess up my order and give me a small lime coke (so it's not THAT big of a deal, but I was really thirsty and it fits the theme of the day).

2:30pm - We arrive at my orthopedic surgeon's office where Ryann promptly pukes in the middle of the waiting room, which sucked, but wasn't near as bad as it could've been because they were REALLY cool about it and she felt a little better afterwards. Then I'm told that they are unable to locate my x-ray cd. I ask her to look again as I am positive that I gave it to them. I clean up puke with another really nice lady that works for them while the receptionist looks. She finds it, and we head off to our next adventure.

2:50pm - On the way to Ryann's doctor's office, a warning light comes on in my car. I stop to see what it is (coolant) and the light goes off, so I get back on the road.

3:15pm - We arrive for Ryann's 3:30pm appointment, and have to wait until 4:30pm to get back to see the doctor. Ryann is feeling miserable at this point, and the doctor is convinced that she has strep throat. She tests her and she does not, so she tests her again and checks her white blood cell count. The white blood cell count is indicative of strep, but the tests come back negative again. Ryann gets a suppository to get her fever under control. The doctor does not know what is wrong with her, but it could be viral. I am to give her something for the fever and not force her to eat. I am also to call if she doesn't feel much better on Thursday.

6:00pm - Because we took so long at our other stops, I figured I would swing by my job on the way home. Only Ryann was feeling horrible, the clouds looked threatening and the radio was talking about the imminent tropical storm, so I decided to skip it and head home, where I dropped Ryann off and ran to Walgreen's to pick up a few sicko necessities.

7:00pm - Go home and collapse in my husband's arms. My husband is upset with me (I can't remember why, but it probably has something to do with either the house being messy even though I was home all day or the dogs. It's usually a safe bet that it's one of those two things.) My husband humors me and holds me, even though he was not liking me very much at the moment. I spent the rest of the evening stressing about money and sick leave and surgery and the list goes on and on... Thursday could not come soon enough.

And now for a knee update:

It hurts. like. hell. It seemed to be hurting less and less until I tweaked it Wednesday morning. Apparently, I tore both my acl AND pcl, because I'm talented like that. I have to have surgery, but it's unclear whether I need them both repaired or just the acl. My surgeon doesn't do pcl repair, so he's sent me to another orthopedic surgeon, who is supposed to be awesome! I go see him on Monday, so I'm excited to get a plan of action. I've been going to physical therapy for three times a week and just started aquatic therapy today. I enjoy it for the most part, I really loved the aquatic exercises. I'm off of crutches for the moment, but still in a knee brace for the most part. I can walk around at home and for short distances without it, which is soooo nice! It was really sucking to have to put it on in the middle of the night when I needed to use the restroom.

Anyway, I was reaaaaaaaalllllllly glad to see the weekend, even though I haven't really worked, except for 3 hours today, since Tuesday. I'm so glad that Ryann is feeling better today. I hate it when she's sick. I think she gave me whatever she had, because my throat is killing me and I threw up at work today. I hope everyone else's week was infinitely better than mine.

Meet my nephew, Ian...

He reeeaaaalllllly loves to swing!

Calgon...take me away

Have you ever had one of those days? Those days where you just want to crawl back into bed and stay there. Calgon, take me away days! THOSE days! That was today. Which sucks, because today was Ryann's first day of 4th grade. I woked up and puked and my knee hurt really badly. We were later getting to the school than I would've liked, so it was a madhouse. The teacher that Ry was supposed to have was moved up to the 5th grade, so she got a different teacher. Her teacher from last year stopped me in the hall to make sure that she was in a different teacher's classroom. Ry's classroom is on the second floor. We waited for the elevator for a few minutes and then Seem and Ry took the stairs. I finally gave up waiting for the elevator, and by the time I made it up the stairs, she was already in her classroom. I was sweaty, hurting and worst of all, didn't get a chance to wish her a good first day. It sucked!

After that, K drove me to my car, and I broke down and started crying as I got out of his car. I just feel so emotional and tired and helpless and guilty and my knee hurts. I feel like such a baby, but there it is. I needed to cry. I didn't get to cry long, because I needed to go fill out some forms for Ry's after school daycare. I've been on the verge of tears for the rest of the day. I'm just one hallmark card or sappy commercial away from a complete breakdown. Oh look...there's a Weight Watchers commercial on, which reminds me how fat I am and how much weight I need to lose and how I can't really work out very hard because my clumsy ass fell and messed up my knee. Here come the tears!

Honestly, I feel like I've done nothing but bitch and moan since I hurt my knee. I don't like me like this. I'm trying to suck it up and look on the bright side. So here are some good things and bad things going on with my knee.

Good things
*I can walk without crutches sometimes...YAY!
*The swelling has gone way down and I no longer have a cankle on my left leg...YAY!
*I can drive...YAY!
*I have a temporary disabled tag at my job, so I don't have to walk far to get to my office...YAY!
*I went to my 2nd physical therapy session today and have already improved enough to make a full rotation on the exercise bike...YAY! (I was so excited that the therapists were laughing at me!)
*I'm generally not in TOO much pain (unless I overdo it or move it the wrong way!) Thank you hydrocodone!!
*My husband is taking great care of me!

Bad things
*I tore my PCL.
*It HURTS!
*I have to wear a bulky knee brace.
*Said knee brace likes to slip down and I keep having to stop and pull it up.
*My injured walk looks more like a waddle. It sad, really!
*I'm constantly tired.

*I didn't get a chance to go down to the river and enjoy the water last weekend at our "family gathering" because it was rocking and rough on the way down.

I'm sure I'll talk more about it later, but I'd liked to end today by saying what an awful mom I am. Ryann went to school today with almost no school supplies. I just hadn't had a chance (or the mobility to go pick out things. We did go earlier this evening and picked up almost everything they need. They don't really go by the district list of supplies, so I hate to buy anthing til after the first day.

I fell asleep for about 20 minutes after typing that last paragraph, so I'm going to sign off and call it a day. But later this week, I'll have to tell you about the fantastic weekend I spent hanging out with my family.

I've fallen and I can't get up!

I picked my friend up from the airport Thursday night, and we stayed up until almost 4am giggling like schoolgirls. It was fantastic, and good for my soul. I was off Friday, so we spent the morning picking up her new car and chatting over coffee at Starbuck's. Our afternoon plan was to go check out some office space, as she is considering opening her own criminal law firm. We crossed the street to enter the office complex for her first appointment, and I tripped over the curb (which was broken and jagged). As I fell to the cement, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. I could see my lower leg hyperextended to an unnatural position and flop around like a wet noodle on the way down. We were on a very busy street and I landed half on the curb and half on the street. I was panicked and trying to drag myself out of the street so that I could avoid being run over. Dragging myself over was no easy task, since I couldn't move my leg. It was numb and tingly, and when I tried to move it, I could see my kneecap cave in. I had my friend call my husband to come and take me to the hospital.

While we waited for K to get there, the owner of the building (who my friend had the appointment with) drove out of the parking garage and yelled that we couldn't sit on the sidewalk in front of the building. I thought that it was fairly obvious that we weren't just having a leisurely rest, since my pants leg was pulled up to mid thigh and I was crying, but apparently not. My friend explained that I had fallen and couldn't move and was waiting on an ambulance or my husband. I don't remember what he said next, but whatever it was must've really pissed my friend off because she started yelling at him about how I'd fallen because his sidewalk was messed up. He started to drive off, and she yelled that she appreciated his concern, since he never once asked if I was okay. So he turned back around, and asked if he could call an ambulance. But even then, he never asked if I was okay.

So K finally came and picked me up, helped me into the car and drove me to the emergency room. After waiting for what seemed like forever, I was able to go in and have x-rays taken. I suspect that the x-ray technician enjoyed torturing me. Everyone else at the hospital was incredible and gentle. I tried to explain to her that I could. not. move. my. knee, but she pretty much told me to do it anyway. It hurt so bad that I was sobbing while I attempted to get onto the x-ray table and turn different ways so she could get a good look at my knee. I know it's necessary and it's her job, but my gosh, it hurt! The good news is that it's not broken and that I've been high as a kite from my pain meds since I left the hospital. The bad news is that I'm on crutches and in a knee immobolizer, and I have to go see an orthopedic surgeon because the chances are good that I've torn something and will have to have surgery to have it fixed.

The pain meds are keeping me asleep most of the time, but right now, they don't seem to be helping because I'm in a great deal of pain. I really need a bath, and I'm trying to figure out the logistics of making that happen. K usually does a great job of taking care of me when I am sick, but he was gone all morning yesterday and several hours this morning. His cousin is here and they went out to dinner with all of my inlaws last night, and they are at my mother-in-law's house right now. I know I'm being a big baby, but I feel completely helpless and abandoned. And? My knee hurts like a MF! But I'll live. Plus, I keep calling my mom, who is giving me lots of sympathy.

Soulfriends

When I was growing up, I had lots of friends. There were different groups and cliques in my little school, but I was friends with ALL of them. My dad used to admonish me for throwing the word "friend" around so easily. He would tell me how truly blessed I would be if I had but a handful of true friends in my lifetime. I don't think I quite believed him then, but like so many other things he's said to me over the years, I've come to see the truth in his words. Don't tell him that, though. I have been blessed, because I do have a couple of those type of friends. I think I've already touched on my frustration about not being able to make new friends. So you can imagine my delight in finding out that one of my BFF is moving to Houston.

Lisa moved to my hometown while we were in junior high. We were immediate friends. Our dads were both in law enforcement and she had a wicked sense of humor. I adored her. Shortly after Lisa earned her driver's license, we decided to sneak over to one of our guy friend's houses to meet up with my boyfriend and swim. His parents weren't home and I don't recall where we told our parents we were going, but it certainly wasn't there. When we backed out of the driveway, she bumped into something and I assured her that it was just the curb. When she drove back to my house to drop me off, her father was there. Apparently, I was mistaken and she had actually ran over my neighbor's mailbox. We were totally busted and our parents all knew that we weren't were we said that we'd be. I'm not sure how it all shook out, but I'm fairly certain that I ended up being grounded. I spent MANY days grounded when I was growing up. In fact, I think I was grounded almost every winter vacation. I'll have to blog about that and the fact that my brother is a snitch another day.

Lisa is brilliant, but sometimes high school girls make really questionable decisions. Lisa got married right out of high school to a man who was...well, he was an idiot. My dad actually asked her, "What in the world are you two going to talk about?" I love my dad (so does Lisa, which is why she thought it was hysterical that he asked her that). Anyway, her husband turned out to be a real asshole and they got a divorce. She ended up legally changing her name, and joining the Air Force. She became a Russian Linguist. She got out of the military, but married a man in the Air Force and recently got her law degree. They've been stationed in Venice, Italy for awhile and now her husband is going back to Iraq and she is moving to Houston to start her own law firm while he's away. I'm worried and sad for her husband, but I am ecstatic that she is moving here. She's going to stay with us while she looks for a cheap place to live. I've tried talking her into staying with us permanently, and if we convert our storage building into a garage apartment, that just may happen. I couldn't be happier.

Lisa and I have gone months and sometimes even years without talking, but when we do see each other or talk, we pick up right where we left off. It's never awkward, and we always have a ball. Ryann and Kassem adore her. In fact, one of my first birthdays after getting married, Kassem arranged for Lisa to come down for a surprise visit. Years ago, Lisa and I were talking about how much we cherish our friendship and she said that we are soulfriends. It's the friendship version of soul mates. I love that. I think it's absolutely true. I suspect that you'll hear lots more about my soulfriend. She'll be here in two weeks, and I am positively giddy as I count down the days.

How's that workin' for ya?

I'm begging for forgiveness in advance. This post is not going to be entertaining at all, not to imply that any of the rest of them have been, because in fact, they have not. Still, I felt like I should give you a proper warning. Don't worry, I'll try to find time to dazzle you with my wit later this week. Ummm...yeah. Anyway, here's some pictures, because if you're willing to sit through this, it's the least I can do:



This weekend was my nephew's first birthday party, but he doesn't turn one until tomorrow. My SIL took him for his first haircut before the party and he looks so grown now. He still looks adorable, but I miss his curls! See how cute they are?





Here's Ryann at an Astros game that we went to last week. We had a really fantastic time, even though I made her help me man a fundraiser booth for the first three innings. She and I went by ourselves, which was fun.

So I just left our second session of therapy. I'm actually feeling much more hopeful today. The first session was draining, but fine. I'm still deciding whether or not I want to go into our specific issues here, and I'm thinking that I probably will, but I'm not ready yet. I will say that I feel as though we did make some small changes after last week's session, which is good. Still, I wasn't sure that I was willing to put in the effort to fight or make myself vulnerable to hurt and disappointment by trying to make it work. But today, I'm definitely feeling more positive. Our issues are deep and complicated and if I focus on them, I know I'll want to crawl in a hole and die. Okay not literally, but you know what I mean. There's alot of water under the bridge, and some of it really has to be dealth with. But today I'm feeling like I can just let some of it drift on by, and I can just sort of start fresh. Today is the first day of the rest of your life and all that. Or maybe I'm just in denial. There is a time and place for it, you know!

Margaret and Jenny: Thank you for your encouraging words. They really helped me get through a difficult week.

Slipping back to normal

This picture was taken after my company Christmas party the Christmas before last. We spent about an hour laughing and taking pictures of ourselves after the party. We don't have many pictures of the two of us together, but there are several from that night that I really like.

Anyway, Ryann's home! YAY!!! She was supposed to be gone one more week, but she was starting to get homesick and we were more than happy to go scoop her up this weekend. It's lovely to have her home. I swear she's grown an inch and a half in the three weeks she's been gone and she's now taller than my mother-in-law.

It's sort of a blessing and a curse to have her home. It's a blessing for obvious reasons, I missed her like mad and it's fun to have her around. But it's a curse because it distracts us from dealing with our issues. K was reading a book on the drive home from picking her up and gave an ironic little laugh at a sentence he just read. It talked about how easy it is to fall back into intimacy, into the touches and hugs and conversations that make up every day life without any decisions being made. This has been a problem for us. It's our pattern. None of these issues we have are new, they're issues we've been facing (avoiding) all along. We're stuck in this loop, and nothing scares me more than falling right back into the loop without dealing with these demons. It's so comfortable to fall right back into intimacy, but I think we're both acutely aware of that fork in the road I talked about last time.

We start counseling tomorrow. I'm nervous. I'm really happy that Ryann is home to distract me.

The Way We Were

So I've been neglecting my blogging duties lately. The truth is that I'm not quite sure what to say. K and I are contemplating divorce and starting couples counseling. There! I said it! I'm a little overwhelmed, and I wasn't sure how much of our struggles I wanted to share. I'm still not sure. Maybe I'll go into greater detail in the future, but for now I'll just say that we have major fucking issues. Issues I'm not sure we'll ever be able to overcome, but I do feel like we should try. After all, I love this man fiercely and he is my best friend. I think we owe it to each other and to Ryann to try. Ryann is gone for the month and I miss her desperately. Her absence has forced K and I to get real with each other and relate to each other and deal with our issues as husband and wife. In some ways I think it's good that we can try to take her out of the equation for the moment and focus on our relationship. But it's scary. At this point, I feel as though there is no turning back. Never in my life have I been so acutely aware that I am standing at a fork in the road. Either we go to counseling and make some fundamental changes in our relationship or we get a divorce. It's as simple as that. Only, it's not simple at all.

Talk to my lawyer!

So Ryann is gone for the month. We took her to my brother's house this weekend, and spent a lovely weekend lounging poolside and visiting with them and admiring my adorable nephews. My arms and chest are pink and scaly proof, thank you very much. My girl, she is adapting well to the high life. She's being taxied around in an Escalade and partying EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. as she told me as we chatted on the phone Wednesday while she was between social engagements. Monday was Gattitown, Tuesday was Chuck E Cheese and Wednesday they hosted a 4th of July party where they were going to do really fun things, like arts and crafts, and all of the neighborhood kids were invited. My parents are going to pick her up this weekend along with my nephew and my cousin and take them to the beach, where I'm quite sure a good time will be had by all. My nephew is quite the little lawyer. He is a master negotiater, that child. It's fascinating to watch him negotiate how many bites of food he has to eat for each meal. When my parents asked if he'd like to come along on the beach trip, he told them he had to give it some thought. After thinking it over, he told his mother that he needed to ask Opa some questions. He called my father and very solemnly asked some very critical things, like...Will there be a playstation? Apparently, he was satisfied with the reponses, and has decided to join them. Hooray! I'm quite jealous! Not only was I in bed on the 4th of July with a nasty stomach virus, but I have to miss out on this adventure that my brave brave parents are about to embark upon. Oh well, while they are partying like rockstars, I'm going to be enjoying my closet addiction of Big Brother guilt free! What a treat!

P.S. If you haven't gone to see Transformers yet, do so immediately. No really, I'll go with you if you want! I could see it again and again. I like it THAT much, and I reaaaaaaaaally wasn't expecting to.

Obsess much?

Me: Baby, have you seen that SWAT show on A&E? It's fantastic! I just found it today, and I'm already totally addicted to it.

K: You're addicted to anything you do more than once!

Me: Nuh uh! I'm not addicted to cleaning.

K: I said something you do more than once.

Me: Jackass!

I don't think I've mentioned this because it's not something that I'm particularly proud of, but I have a highly addictive personality. Whenever I find something I'm interested in or something I like, I tend to dive in headfirst and get slightly obsessed with it. Case in point, I've been googling SWAT today and reading the episode descriptions and bios of the super hot SWAT guys. Also? I'm flighty, so my obsessions come and go. I think it's charming. He thinks it's really annoying. What can I say? The show is amazing. I spent much of Sunday afternoon watching a SWAT marathon, and now I MUST see them all. It's quite compelling, and I have a thing for criminology and law.

In unrelated news, my hair looks like shit today! Oh and? I'm in desperate need of a nap.

Thanks Pa!

(This is my dad (Ryann's Opa) chilling with his favorite granddaughter. She's constantly looking forward to her next "adventure" with her Opa and Oma)

Growing up, I had a deep respect for my dad, but I was also scared to death of him (as were my friends). Maybe because of his many years as a state trooper or a military police officer, or his time in Vietnam or just part of his personality, but he can be extremely intimidating. From him, I’ve inherited my small hands, wide feet, love of dogs, water, music, reading and sports. He taught me to be open-minded, to stand up for what I believe in, that very few things are absolute and that the hardest thing to do is usually the right thing to do. He’s a talented singer and guitar player (sounds very much like James Taylor). Growing up in West Texas, we had colossal thunderstorms quite often. When our electricity went out, as it often did, we would light candles and my dad would sing and play his guitar. This is one of my most treasured memories growing up. Thanks Pa! When I think about my dad, there are a handful of moments like these that really stand out.

Growing up, I played every sport that our school offered. Basketball was my favorite. My sophomore year, I made the varsity team, but was demoted to junior varsity after I stunk up the joint after the first game. To say I was devastated would be a gross understatement. I stayed in my bed and sobbed uncontrollably after I found out. My dad sat down on the side of my bed and told me that I had two choices. I could quit or I could show the coach that he had made a mistake. I chose the latter. We had our team practice after school. The day after our talk, every day after team practice, my dad and I would go to the junior high gym and practice for another hour or two. After only a week or two of this, I was kicking ass on JV and moved back up to Varsity. By my senior year, I was voted district MVP. Thanks Pa!

Another time in high school, my dad and I were having a conversation about something or other, and he said something that has to be in the top three if not number one nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. He said that, because of my intelligence and empathy, I had the potential to be the very best of our family and in some ways, I already was. To truly understand and appreciate how profound this compliment is, you would have to know my family: my father (the genius), my mother (the saint and the most moral and kind person I know) and my brother (the golden boy). He probably doesn’t even remember saying it and he quite possibly said something similar to my brother, but honestly, I wouldn’t even care. I still remember the sense of pride I felt hearing those words. Thanks Pa!

The three years after I graduated from high school were a very dark time. I was too immature to be on my own in college and I went completely crazy. I was wild, partied nonstop and made one idiotic decision after another. Truthfully, it’s by no small miracle that I am still alive and not in prison today. I still feel a crushing guilt when I think about the hell I put my parents through. A couple of months after I turned 21, I found out I was pregnant and my boyfriend demanded that I had an abortion and broke up with me when I refused. My mother was so distraught that she couldn’t really talk to me about the situation, but my father was my rock. He talked with me about all of my options (even the ones I wasn’t willing to consider), and talked to me candidly without judging me. Thanks Pa!

A couple of years ago, my dad played me a song and said that it always reminded he and my mom of me. I cry every single time I hear it. Thanks Pa! Here are the lyrics:

Look at You Now by Catie Curtis

There were times there didn’t look like any way out
And we’d all cry when there was no more that we could talk about
None of us knew what we could do
Mostly we were just scared for you

But look at you now walking on clouds
Lining up stars from medicine jars
You’re the life of the crowd
You had to rise above
What bad dreams are made of
Through all the heartache you didn’t break
You went through more than I could take
And look at you now

There were days when everything was going wrong
And your whole life changed as your dreams were broken one by one
I know you’re never gonna be the same
As you were before all that pain

But look at you now walking on clouds
Lining up stars from medicine jars
You’re the life of the crowd
You had to rise above
What bad dreams are made of
Through all the heartache you didn’t break
You went through more than I could take
And look at you now

I can’t even tell you how much I’ve learned from you
Even in my darkest hour you know what I can do
I can look at you now walking on clouds
Lining up stars from medicine jars
You’re the life of the crowd
You had to rise above What bad dreams are made of
Through all the heartache you didn’t break
You went through more than I could take
And look at you now
Look at you now
Look at you now

Poor Trixie

We've been having a really exciting week since K left. Trixie is in heat, and is now rocking the latest in diaper chic! Doesn't she look miserable? I'm planning on getting her spayed ASAP! She's only nine months old, and this is the first (and last) time that she's been in heat. I'm not sure which one of us hates it more.

On a completely unrelated note, I can't believe yesterday was Father's day and I didn't even mention MY dad! Because you may not know this...but he rocks! As a matter of fact, I don't think he should have to share a post with Trixie, so tomorrow, I'll tell you why he's so awesome!

Happy Father's Day!

K is in Las Vegas for two weeks for business, so we haven't been able to celebrate Father's day yet. Ryann sent him a lovely powerpoint presentation instead of a card. It had several pages of famous athletes and the last page said, "Vince Young is great....but you're my MVP!" K is sort of nerdy (in that totally sexy way), so naturally, he loved it. Ryann is a tomboy, so this was right up her alley and she had a blast putting it together. She's in a day camp this month, and apparently she learned how to do powerpoint last week (which is sort of bizarre as the theme for last week was baseball, but whatever!) K is an awesome dad, and I know Ryann was very disappointed that he wasn't going to be here today to celebrate. So instead, she and I had a reeeeaaaalllllly lazy Sunday. We'll celebrate when he gets back.

MamaDramaConQueso

What a fun day! In reading some of the posts from others who attended, it was reassuring for me to read that I wasn't the only one who had to step out of my comfort zone to go. I'm proud of myself (and anyone else who was nervous) for going anyway. I've found it to be really difficult to make friends as an adult. I've made a few new friends here and there, but since moving to Houston five years ago, I just really haven't made any close friends. I really believe that growing up in a small town has something to do with it. You have all these built in friends who you've grown up with, and you don't have to put yourself out there and meet new people and make new friends. So meeting new people sometimes feels really awkward. Also? I'm lazy. So that might also be a factor.

I can't tell you how glad I am that I decided to go yesterday. I met so many really cool women, who I can't wait to get to know better through their blogs and future events (if any of you are reading this...Hello! Rock on with your bad selves!) The conversation was lively and hysterical. It was also enlightening (pasta, diapers and fur? Oh my!) It just goes to show that it really pays to step outside of your comfort zone. No offense HGTV, but it was even more fun than staying home watching Design on a Dime.

I'm just sort of dipping my toes into this whole blogging community, and I can't tell you how grateful I am that so many people have been so gracious and made me feel so welcome. I hope that this blog (and my writing) will evolve into something a little more interesting. I used to really think I was an intelligent person (Hello? I was in Gifted and Talented dammit!), but reading so many hilarious, insightful blogs have made me realize that I'm not nearly as smart as I thought I was. (I also used to think I was outgoing, but apparently I'm a socially retarded hermit since giving birth.) Effing internet! Robbing me of my self worth post by post! Anyway, I used to be a better writer than I am today. I sort of treat my blog like a personal journal, where I don't proofread and I don't take much time to plan. I hope to take more time in the future and really improve and write about more interesting things.

Again, so great to meet all of you who braved the storms and made it out yesterday for lunch. I'm kicking myself for not taking pictures. I am already looking forward to next time.

It takes a village

The x-rays were normal. I'm cautiously optimistic. She's still having some pain in her back, but she's no longer in tears. That's got to be a good sign. She had decided at one point this week that she would prefer to have a different mother...preferrably one who would say, "To hell with doctor's orders, swim your little heart out, Princess. Don't forget to eat lots of candy, drink lots of coke, never brush your teeth and stay up all night watching cartoons or the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air." She backed off on that sentiment, but only after she had sufficiently twisted the knife in my heart.

Isn't nine a little early to be doing the whole teen angst thing? It's scary to think of what might lie ahead in her teenage years. For me, the idea of her growing up in Houston (or any big city) scares the hell out of me. It just seems like there are so many bad things to get into. I know that she'll think we are strict and we'll try to balance that fine line of giving her enough space to grow without giving her enough rope to hang herself with. I grew up in a tiny town of 1200 people. I tell people that I graduated 3rd in my class, but I usually don't tell them that there were only 30 of us (although in fairness, the parents of the two girls who graduated ahead of me did alot of their projects for them. You don't read my blog, but if you ever do...you know who you are, and you know it's true. I love you anyway! I also love my parents for making me so independent, but I was totally robbed!)

Anyway, my point was that I know how much mischief we got into growing up, and it was plenty. It seems like there are just so many more opportunities to mess up in a large city. I read about all of these scary things going on with kids in and out of school here, and it's just so outside the realm of my experience that I get overwhelmed thinking about it. I loved growing up in a small town. Everyone knows everyone and everyone looks out for everyone. You may have to endure vicious gossip, but you'll also never walk down the street without several cars asking if you need a ride. I love going back and seeing how all of the drivers wave to every. single. car. that passes. It's charming. When I was growing up there, I always fancied myself a big city girl trapped in the country. My, how things have changed! Even I can appreciate the irony.

I do love the city. I love having more choices than just Dairy Queen when I want to eat out. I love the diversity of Houston. I love Target and I love being an hour away from the beach (even if it is ONLY Galveston). But sometimes? I would love to pack Ryann up and raise her in my hometown. Things just seem simpler there. The biggest scandal at the school is that the cheerleading routine is a little too raunchy for the bible belt. All and all, it's a fun place to be a kid. You can play outside without worrying about strangers. There are no strangers. Ryann really loves it there. She'll be spending July with my parents and she'll be able to drive the golf cart around our dead end street and go play in the field behind the house. It's just a great place to grow up. Also? I really miss Allsup's burritos.

Sick and tired

I just realized that the ending of my last post on how much I love my daughter despite all her quirks is eerily similar to the one I posted about our Wirehair Fox Terrier, Trixie. What a horrible mother I am! I knew it felt familiar.

Anyway, to add on to my last post on some of the things I love about my daughter...she doesn't do things halfway! She's an all or nothing kinda gal. Typically, she's healthy as a horse (knocking on wood right now...no really, I am). She's also tough as nails. I always know when she is really hurt or sick, because she's not one to whine and moan unless she's in serious pain. In fact, when she was almost two, she tripped and fell down on concrete. It busted her lip and knocked one of her front teeth almost completely out. We had to go directly to the dentist who pulled the tooth. She didn't cry once. The dentist was so amazed at how good she was that not only did he not charge us, but the ladies in the front office gave her a little wooden dog that they had in the office for decoration. I take a lot of pride in her being such a tough cookie. I may have failed her at every other lesson, but by golly, I did do something right. As a toddler, when she fell or ran into something, she would look for me to gauge my reaction and go from there. If I wasn't making a fuss or spazzing out, then generally she would dust herself off and go on. So I perfected my nonreaction (which incidentally, went against all of my instincts at first) and I've never had to guess at whether or not she's really hurt or sick. Don't get me wrong, she's full of drama in other areas, but not this one.

Back to our current situation... Last week, she was complaining about back pain. Apparently, she was playing touch football at camp and got tackled by a boy who was two years older. She landed on her back, and it had been bothering her ever since. Friday evening, she also started complaining about an earache for the first time in her life. (I guess she's done pretty well to get to 9 years old without an ear infection). So when she woke up Saturday morning and was in tears because of her back and ear, I immediately called the doctor who told us to bring her right in. (How convenient that her doctor's office is open on Saturday morning!) So it turns out that she has strep throat (what? She hasn't even complained about her throat), swimmer's ear and we're still not sure what's going on with the back. He prescribed a muscle relaxer, which doesn't seem to help the pain, but does knock her out. I'm trying not to give it to her too often, because she's taking so many other medications (antibiotics for strep throat, 2 adult motrin around the clock, ear drops). He sent us in to have her back x-rayed this morning, so we'll see how that turns out. If the pain is not gone by Wednesday or Thursday, he'd like to do an MRI. Bless her heart! She can't swim this week at camp, can't roughhouse with Daddy, can't do anything too strenuous at camp. She's a trooper, my girl! And apparently? She's decided to pack a year's worth of illness and injury into one week.

ETA: It looks as if we will be returning for MORE x-rays tomorrow. My daughter will be thrilled. Apparently, the x-rays were of the lumbar spine and the thoracic sp? spine is what he needed to see. Lovely!

My Mad Potter

I haven't an artistic bone in my body. But I thought it would be fun to spend some quality time with my daughter, so we spent Friday afternoon at The Mad Potter. Ry painted Patrick from Spongebob and I painted a birthday plate. We had such a great time that I think it is going to be a "thing" for us. Ry is such a daddy's girl, so it's fun to find things that she and I can do together. Sometimes the ache of secondary infertility is so overwhelming and painful to me that I forget to thank God for all of the blessings I already have. At the very top of that list would be my daughter. I feel so honored to mother such a beautiful, intelligent and articulate young lady. Sure she's a tomboy. Sure she's only nine and already has the whole tween angst vibe going on. Sure she's a bear in the morning. But all in all? She's amazing! She's just such a cool little person and I'm not saying that only because she's mine. When she earned $75 for good grades, she spent ALL of it on gifts for relatives. She loves animals, is exceptionally good with babies and small children. She's thoughtful and witty and a firecracker. When she felt that her 3 year old cousin was being favored and getting a lot more attention than she was, she wrote her dad a note that said, "Sometimes I feel like I'm a couch and he's a tv. Everyone sits on me and watches him." For a nine year old? That's deep! I have to love her, because she's my daughter. And I do love her fiercly. But to like her, too? It just doesn't get any better than that!

Happy Anniversary!

Last Friday, K and I celebrated our 5 year wedding anniversary. We had a lovely time. We spent the night at Hotel*Icon in downtown Houston. It was incredible. They made reservations and drove us (in a really cool London cab) to Sambuca*Jazz*Cafe for a mouthwatering steak dinner at a table right in front of the band. When we returned to the hotel, they gave us a complimentary "bath butler" since it was our anniversary. They came in and prepared the bathtub with Molton Brown bath products for a bubble bath. It was divine. K and I enjoyed a bottle of 2002 Inniskillin Ice Wine, which was fabulous! The next morning, we woke up and walked around downtown Houston and took pictures. Then, we met our daughter and my SIL and her family for brunch at The*Breakfast*Klub. It's the only restaurant I know where people stand in line for an hour to place their order. But it is delicious and the owner is ALWAYS there providing topnotch customer service. The entire stay was so romantic and just what the doctor ordered for us. Pictures to follow...

Rut Roh!

My husband hates me! Would you like to know how I know? Because he just called and told me. And by told, I mean screamed obscenities at me. In addition to Trixie's many charms and talents, she's a very capable escape artist. After working incredibly long hours this week, K has the morning off. Apparently, Trixie flew the coupe this morning and K injured his foot while giving chase. Oops! I feel terrible, really terrible. There are two things K really hates about me:

1. I make bad, impulsive, selfish decisions at times (i.e. to get a dog, much less two dogs).


2. I'm messy! Seriously messy! (Disclaimer: I'm getting so much better than I once was).

My parents are going to be here today. I'm thrilled! They live about seven hours away and I don't get to see them enough. K is supposed to entertain them until I get off around lunch time, when we'll all go watch our daughter's school dance extravaganza. I feel especially bad that K hurt himself and hates me today since he's worked such long hours this week and is being such a trooper hanging out with my family this morning. He loves my parents, so it's not like it's a huge sacrifice, but still. My parents are amazing. Did I mention how excited I am to see them?

So does anyone want a wire hair fox terrier? I kid! (I think!)

Edited at 11:10am to add: Yay! I'm forgiven! Nothing like having him spend a little time with the parents to remember everything he loves about me!

Meet Yoda and Trixie........

I love dogs! As a matter of fact, dogs and babies are two of my favorite things. So I thought you should meet mine. You can probably figure out which one Yoda is on your own, but I'll give you a hint anyway. His name is Yoda because he is ugly (in the cutest sort of way), wrinkly and wise (no, seriously, he is!) The other one is named Trixie because...well, because that is what the lady we got her from named her. Personally, I would have preferred a cuter name. Maybe even a Star Wars name...Princess Leia? Sei Taria? Scurrier? I'm not really a HUGE Star Wars fan, but wouldn't it be fun to have their names match.

Yoda is a shar pei and we've had him for about three years. K originally gave his stamp of approval on getting Yoda, but tried to back out at the last minute. I've always wanted a wire hair fox terrier. I think they're too cute for words. I was fine with Yoda being an only canine-child, but K started talking about getting a cocker spaniel right before Christmas 2006. So I got visions in my head of a new puppy and when I saw Trixie on a website, I thought that it was a perfect opportunity to finally get my wire hair fox terrier. So maybe I should've thought it through a bit more? Don't get me wrong...she's delightful. She's playful and funny and big buddies with Yoda (who aside from having to get neutered, took to her pretty well). But she's alot of work. I practically begged K to forbid me to get her, but he told me to do whatever I wanted to. So I think I'll just blame him for my lapse of judgement. She's a firecracker and at 10 pounds, thinks she's the biggest dog there ever was and my daughter is crazy about her. So what if I have to keep the lids on all of the toilets down because she's fallen in repeatedly? So what if her ears don't fold down like they are supposed to? She's great! Now if I can just get her totally potty trained...........

Finnegan Begin Again

This is my gorgeous daughter on Awards Day. She won every conceivable (maybe not the best choice of words for a blog dealing with infertility) award EXCEPT for the conduct award. That's my girl! As a third grader, she scored post high school for language and 12th grade for spelling and overall at an 8th grade level. But to behave properly? That's just asking too much!

So my imaginary blog readers, you may or may not have noticed that I've been away? What's that? You've missed me? And I've missed you...wait a second...let go of my leg!!! (Shut up! This is my blog and if I want to pretend to have loyal if slightly stalkerish readers (or any readers at all, for that matter), then you can just let me have my moment!) Wow...that was really poor punctuation, wasn't it? So I don't know what happened. Maybe it was sharing the dirty little truth about my past and admitting that sometimes I feel insanely guilty for wanting another child, even though the one I have is as close to perfect as they come? Maybe it was the fact that there really hasn't been much to share on the infertility front in the past year as I've tried desparately to completely block it from my mind. I started a new job, and my new insurance just kicked in last month, so I haven't even been to the doctor or taken my glucophage in a long, long while. But now? I have baby fever again. Not that it ever really left. It didn't, as hard as I tried to block it out. My insurance still doesn't cover IVF. K's open enrollment is in November. My plan is to get on glucophage, get healthy and prepare as much as possible for IVF while I wait for November to roll around.

So it's great to be back! I'm really going to try to blog more, not only about infertility, but life in general. Because honestly? There's only so much you need to know about my va-jay-jay!