48 Month Newsletter

Dearest Gwennie,

Today you turn forty eight months old. That is four whole years. For four years you have been here, in our family.

A few months ago, you didn’t like to draw. You would sometimes, circles would cover the pages. For months you only drew pictures of “jellyfish”. Then one day you sat down and drew our family. The same day your drawings went from simple 2 circle people with just a head and body, eyes and legs, to complex people with noses, ears, mouths, hair and arms. Occasionally they even have necks. Now you draw cats and dogs on everything you can put a pen on. I love watching you draw, but you don’t like us to watch you. When you are done with the picture, you hold it up and tell us about it. Its awesome.


Nearly all of your third year of life (or a third of your life) was spent with Daddy in Iraq. This was hard on you, because you couldn’t really understand it. You would tell us that daddy was “at work”, in fact you would tell anyone who would listen that your Daddy was at work. Just one month ago, he came home. It was the greatest day in your life yet. I don’t think you will have many days as perfect as that. You didn’t want to leave his side. (I don’t blame you. Rhayn and I felt the same way!)


You are a great eater. You love food. Sure, there are plenty of unhealthy things that you like to eat, but you will gladly eat fruits and vegetables. I can slice bell peppers and you will snack on those. Rhayn doesn’t touch them. Tomatoes are something you refuse to eat, unless they are in ketchup form.

Playing horses is your favorite game. Most little girls want to play princesses, but you want to be the princess’ horse. We play My Little Ponies often, you pass out the ponies, and tell us what we need to do with them (and what their names are.) If you could chose Daddy would play with you all of the time.


Unfortunately you are still having trouble wetting the bed at night. It isn’t every night, but often enough that you are still wearing diapers. The day time accidents are much better. Sure, some day you will look back at this with mortification, but let me say that I wet the bed once in a while until I was 16 or so. Please don’t be self-conscious about it, its just one of those things that happens. Maybe ask your grandma about bedwetting? She has some great stories.


For your birthday this year you asked for a “big stuffed shamu and a baby beluga”. Another thing you asked for were pink princess pants with butterflies. I didn’t find a stuffed shamu for you, but I did find a plastic orca and a baby beluga. I went to a local specialty toy store and asked them if they had a baby beluga. The lady looked it up and found that they had one in stock, but we had to search the shelf to find it. Luckily it was found and hopefully you like it. The “pink princess pants” were harder to find. I am not exactly sure what “princess pants” look like. I did find a pair of pink jean-like pants with butterflies on them. I hope they fit what you were imagining. I am sure you will love your presents, because you are so easy to please. I am thankful for that.


Gwennie, you are so extraordinary. Every day I am thankful to be your Mama. Your Daddy and I love you more than we ever thought we could love someone (besides Rhayn) and every day you astonish me with everything you know.

A Vow: Squat

Here we are again, my 'roids are a-buggin' me. So I was searching the internet for information on them. Come on, you know that if you were plagued by them you would to. (Plus I was on hold while attempting to order a replacement part for a ceiling fan.)

I found this insightful information in Wikipedia's Hemorrhoid entry.

"Based on their very low incidence in the underdeveloped world, where most people squat for bodily functions, hemorrhoids have been attributed to the use of the "sitting" toilet. Dr. Berko Sikirov published a study in 1987 testing this hypothesis by having hemorrhoid sufferers convert to squat toilets. Eighteen of the 20 patients were completely relieved of their symptoms (pain and bleeding) with no recurrence, even 30 months after completion of the study. This chart summarizes the results. This study was undertaken in a very small number of people, when compared to the numbers involved in recognized high-quality trials. Therefore, the results, while highly suggestive, cannot be assumed to provide a firm conclusion.

No follow-up studies have ever been published. The American Society of Colon & Rectal Surgeons is silent regarding the therapeutic value of squatting."

Now you may ask, what is a squat toilet? Look here (Wikepedia's Squat Toilet entry.)

It does make you wonder, doesn't it? I tend to think that they come from a variety of factors, including a crappy American diet. I just called the gastroenterologist that did my colonoscopy a few weeks ago (was that really 3 weeks ago?) He is out of town on vacation. I would just like a day to go by that does not involve me itching and using hemorrhoid cream (which doesn't seem to help anyway.) I thought that the high fiber diet would help, and yes my poop is different, and after the initial increase in gas, I am feeling better. I am still just uncomfortable. Maybe I need a 'roid donut to sit on? Maybe I need to exercise more? Maybe I need them surgically removed? Maybe.... maybe... maybe. All I know is that this? Its not cool and I am done with it.

Milestones

One year ago I started a photo blog, 365 days of pictures to commemorate what we had done that day. It turned into a way to get to know my camera, a way to express some feeling that I had. There were days that I forgot (only ten, though, not bad at all!)

Today is the 365th day of that. But I don't feel ready to give it up. I have loved doing it. Loved trying to find something that fit how I felt that day or what we did.

Tuesday is Gwennie's fourth birthday. I feel like a slacker, because I stopped writing her newsletters. I will write one for her birthday. I can't believe my baby girl is four!

More of the Same

Hack, cough cough, wheeze, sniffle, achoo!

Yup, more of the same around here, and I for one am ready to be done feeling like a walking zombie.

Today I went to Lowe's to pick up a list of things that has been sitting on top of my purse for a few days now. This also meant that after the purchasing part I had to unload ten ten foot 2X4s and put them in the back yard. I also decided to go ahead and buy the four foot fencing that will (fingers crossed) keep certain dogs from jumping into my garden or using my raised bed garden as a launching pad out of our back yard. As well as about eleven five foot posts. I actually pulled out my old fencing, it was only three feet tall and not rigid, the dogs used it as an obstacle course, but it was barely an event. The real trial was leaping over the entire two and half foot wide garden in one jump. I started putting in the posts, but became dizzy. I decided that I was done for the day. I do still have to make sure my guest room is somewhat presentable since my mom is coming over for the night.

I guess I should do that now.

Is it okay if I just curl up into a ball and sleep for a few days?

No? Why not?

Oh, because I am Mom and I have laundry to do? And I am supposed to be responsible for all of this other stuff? But I don't want to. I just want to sleep. My kids can take care of themselves, no?

Alright, I get it. Being a mom means never getting enough sleep when you are sick. It means driving your kid(s) to and from school even though your head feels like a giant bubble of mucous. It means that you have to take care of them when they are sick even though you are just as sick. It means that you drink a lot of orange juice and hope that it combats the illness faster.

Me= Unreliable, Bad Friend, Spazzoid

I am so scatterbrained it has cost me a friendship.

Seriously. I think being on one hundred percent of the time for the past year made me lose it recently. I can't keep anything straight. If I don't make a list of what I need to do, it won't happen. Even if its on a list there is no guarantee that I will get it done. I am late for everything (which makes me crazy). I feel like a zombie.

Of course, this cold is not helping me at all. Today I got the oil changed in our car (only because Will reminded me over and over, and asked me this morning if I was going to do it.) My head feels like a huge bubble. Hopefully when this cold is gone I will be myself again. But I doubt it. I keep thinking of things I need to do, but honestly making myself do anything right now is a challenge. I need some incentive, or a swift kick in the pants.

Crapcho!

I met my new nephew yesterday, its been 9 years since we had a boy born in our family, so it was quite the occasion. On my way home, I started sneezing uncontrollably. I almost had to pull over due to the sneezes. My entire face was red and blotchy when I walked in the house.

I had to take a dose of medication in the middle of the night due to the stuffiness and headache. I took a hot shower in the morning, and it cleared my head for a while. Then I made myself chicken noodle soup, too. After lunch I attempted to take a nap, but couldn't breath so I kept waking up. I fearful it will be more of the same tonight, too.

Of course, I am worried that I gave my freshly born nephew a cold. How awful would that be? Gwennie had her first cold at 4 months old. It was miserable, and I got a nice case of mastitis from it. Fun times. Lets cross our fingers that he stays healthy.

Newest member of mi familia.

Weighing in at almost 8 pounds, the sweetest conehead this side of the Rio Grande, baby Asher, entered the world yesterday afternoon. I could just about eat my new nephew up.

So could my mom.

Quite possibly my dad likes him a little, too.

There are quite a few things that I should be doing right now. Instead I am sitting here, at the computer, wishing the kids would be quiet. I slept fitfully all night and consequently I really just wish to lay back on the couch and sleep.

I want to write about all of the crap that is making me feel this way, but I feel guarded. I feel like I can't fully share this part of my life. I am scared, and I am tired. I am worried about things that are out of my control. I feel overwhelmed because I don't know how to fix any of it and instead I feel like my head is buried in sand. I have been late for nearly everything this week. Being late is a pet peeve, and causes me to have anxiety attacks. I want to putter around and not worry, but my heart starts beating too fast and I feel panicked when time starts running short. Instead of enjoying things, I am just doing them.

I had a really bad day on Tuesday, I emotionally broke. All of the emotions that I hold inside escaped. But I didn't share it with Will. I didn't tell him what was making me feel that way. (Things that I am worried about that pertain to him.) I could have, it was a great segue into that conversation. But trying to talk about those feelings and thoughts makes me more panicked and anxious. Plus, I never know how he will react to anything I say. Its been tough because his patience is gone. I knew it would be, I tried to prepare for this, but how can you really prepare to deal with your husband's demons when you really have no idea what they are or how they will manifest? I love him. I want to tell him everything, but I can't. I can't put myself through the rejection I fear if I start sharing my hopes and fears.

I feel like I did on Tuesday, before my emotional box broke. I feel sad, and tired, worn out. I see the list of things I need to do, but I can not make myself even begin to tackle it. Sure there is a VVA pick-up today. I should get the stuff out to the street. I just can't. It took everything I had to get up and make him coffee this morning and to take a shower. It is taking all of my control to not curl up into a ball and cry on the couch for a few hours.

I can't do that, I don't have time to do that. I don't want the girls to see me like this. I worry about how my depression is going to affect them. I know that Rhayn worries that her dad and I will get divorced, I worry about it, too. Its the last thing I want. I know that there is a lot of good in our relationship. But also a lot that is wrong. There are so many things that we need to fix. We both acknowledge that we need help, too.

For once, I want someone to take care of me, and let me just wallow in this. I thought it would be better when he came home, instead, I feel worse, more afraid, more anxious, more... just more.

Update on our day.

This morning marked the beginning of our new, old normal. Will went back to work. We all wished he could have had at least another week off, but he made the decision thinking that nearly three weeks was enough. Alas, it whipped by at breakneck speed and left us wanting more.

During his time off, he grew in a bit of a beard. It was rugged and really attractive on him. But he shaved it off for work. I was sad about that.

Gwennie and I missed him all day. We liked him home, we liked having him around to talk to.

I am waiting now for him to get home, so we can find out how his day went. This is a whole new chapter of our lives, and we can only hope it is a good one. (I am sure it will be.)

I am really tired right now. I did a lot today. First I took Rhayn to school. This was followed by coming home and digging up a part of the drip line (for the second time) because it was really wet there. I needed to assess what was going on. It seems that the last time I dug it up, I cut one of the drip lines that came off of the main line. Luckily it was one that didn't need to be there, as it goes to what was once a Texas sage and is now and ocotillo. Ocotillos do not like regular water, and will die if watered like the other plants on the drip line like to be.

I didn't finish it. I turned on the drip line to let it run and see what was going on. Then I went inside to eat a slice of pizza. Not ten minutes later, Gwennie says "Mommy, Penny is ALL muddy." I knew exactly what had happened. There was a lot of nice mud in the hole I hadn't filled in. She had helped herself to some digging time. She was covered in very moist mud. No, it was wet, wet mud. Yuck.

She was dragged upstairs, leaving some muddy paw prints on the stairs, and thrown into the shower. I rinsed her off but didn't wash her because of the itchies she has. After that I went out and buried the mud.

Gwennie had a playdate at ten, but we were late to that. Then we were late to my first writing class, (more about that another time.) Finally I was late picking up Rhayn. When we got home, Penny had crapped in her crate, and was standing up against the side trying not to get in it. So I had to take her crate pad out and wash it. Which reminds me its in the washer and needs to go in the dryer now.

Its a good night to have leftovers, because we have a lot of them. Multiple days worth of food. We have some tamales from this weekend, Will and I made them for the first time. They are a little dry, but pretty good for our first attempt. I made a meatloaf on Monday, it wasn't that good (its turkey) but the girls seemed to like it. We also have Pizza Hut pizza from last night, we had friends over and they ordered pizza. I have some very tasty veggie supreme pizza in there, that I mentioned eating a slice of before. But for now? I am going to sit down and rest for a bit. I need to stay awake but my body wants to doze very badly.

Late Labor Day Weekend Post

After Will came home, of course everyone wanted to see him. We had a barbecue, on Friday night, with some of my friends, the ones who have helped me most through this hard time. It was a pleasant evening, lots of joking and good conversation.

My mom and I made plans to drive up into the Tonto National Forest on Saturday. We all got up early and met in Superior for breakfast. Will's having a difficult time driving and so I was driving. I knew that the place we had chosen to go had a very narrow road that goes right by a cliff, a very steep cliff with a waterfall. Its lovely, but I had spent days worrying about driving that stretch of road, and giving myself pep talks about it. But I knew I could do it, at least on the way up. (Driving down is scarier than driving up.)

As we left Superior, and drove towards Globe, I was feeling pretty good about the drive. I knew it was paved a good portion of the way. We had exchanged children, and we now had a nephew, Gwennie and Madders in our truck. Rhayn was in my parents truck.

We passed Roosevelt Lake and started up. There is a side road we like to take, that leads past what used to be a YMCA camp that is covered in blackberries, past the treacherous cliffs of doom to the top of that mountain where someone has arranged rocks into chairs and tables. We call them the Flintstones' Chairs, which was totally lost on the kids. (They have most likely never seen the Flintstones.)

Looking for ripe blackberries, the bushes grow on both sides of the road there.

We stopped first at the old YMCA camp, which is now some other camp. It is still covered in blackberries, which were, unfortunately, not quite ripe. We were able to climb around and find a few semi ripe ones.

Half-ripe blackberries.

Everyone loaded back into the trucks, and we drove passed the cliffs. I stared at the drivers side of the truck's front keeping my eye close to the ground and trying not to think about what was on the other side of the truck. After it was over, and I had made it, I exhaled and kept on truckin'.

Covered in Ladybugs!

At the top we all stopped, parked and got out. I had to find a bush, and most everyone else climbed to the top of a watch tower. Not that I would have done it if I hadn't needed to relieve myself. Gwennie ran up the steps, and I had to look away. I knew she would be fine, but it scared me nonetheless. When everyone came down, the kids found a rock that was covered in ladybugs. Rhayn loved it, and covered herself in ladybugs.

The Flintstones' chairs.

It was lunch time by then. We all got out our fixings and put the food on the Flintstones' table. We all shared and had our fill before heading back down.

Grandpa and Gwennie having a sandwich.

We stopped on the way down just above the cliff face. Some of us were going to hike up a steep area to some Native American ruins that JVA had told us about. He told half of us to try a different direction and we ended up adding a long side trip onto an already arduous climb.

A doorway in the ruins, so cool. The kids were amazed at how small the doorway was.

We all made it, three grown men, me and four kids (Rhayn, included.) The ruins were fascinating. However, I felt like I was going to die, and nearly passed out, so I spent the time we were up there staring out across the valley trying to catch my breath. We hadn't brought water (stupid, rookie mistake) or food, because it was a short hike. Water would have been a very good idea.

Me, at the ruins feeling like death. Can you see how flushed I am?

When we had all made it most of the way back to the trucks, it started pouring rain. Big, fat droplets of rain. It felt good on my flushed face, but I was so weak from the climb I was basically sliding down on my butt the entire way back.

Will drove the scary part for me. I was thankful, because after the hike, I wasn't sure if I could do it. Well, I know I could have, had I had to. We stopped at the bottom of that road to check out the bathtubs. This was another short hike, albeit a flat one at least. I sipped at my Camelback on the way. These are where the creek has made big pools in the rock. Usually we would swim, too. But no one had extra clothes (besides Gwennie, who needed them after she peed in hers before falling into the creek.)

Grandpa and his girls.

We sat by the creek for a time, resting. While Grandpa took the kids down to the creek (where Gwennie fell in) and picked some ripe blackberries. Those ones were very tasty.

Peaceful place.

The day was spent, it was five when we left the forest. On the way out of there my dad was in front, he stopped and we all saw a whitetail jump across the road in front of him and head to our left up the hill. After that he stopped again, with his arm out of the window pointed at a large rattlesnake crossing the road. We all stopped to get a good look at that, too. (We got some nice pictures of him, as well.)

Rattler.

We drove into Globe to have a bit of Taco Bell on the way home. We parted ways in Superior. It was a long day, the kids all had fun. It was a bit much for Will, and I was totally exhausted by the time we got home around 9pm.

LT McHotty on the Roof, yo.

Quiet ladies, he's all mine.

Will has been talking about how when he got home, he needed to fix out patio cover. You see, he had built it a few years ago with help from my dad and brother. He hadn't used the right materials and so it started to leak, and warp and generally look like crap. My dad had repaired it for me a few months ago, when the leaking got very bad.

He first tore off all of the drywall ceiling, and then the roll roofing that he (and my dad) used. Luckily for us all, bulk trash pick-up happened to fall last week, and we were able to stack a huge pile outside on our sidewalk for them to come pick-up. We do live fairly close to a dump, and we could have taken it in, you get a free load on Saturdays with your utility bill and a current license. However it was so much nicer for him to just put it outside and let them come get it. We will still have at least one load to take to the dump.

I plan to use some of the plywood he is removing to build a play house for the girls. I want an open one, similar the one below, only not made from telegraph poles, that the dogs can also use to keep out of the sun. We'll see if it comes to fruition. It shouldn't be difficult, especially if I can get Will to make the cuts (I have a fear of table saws. I am quite handy until it comes to those moving blades then I balk.) It also shouldn't cost very much, since we have most everything we need.

I love the sound of him working, the whirring of the drill, the banging. It all reminds me that he is home and that is the best part of it all.

Pile of the wrong thickness of plywood. Hoping to recycle into the girls' playhouse.

You can see how he's torn off the ceiling and roofing. Its amazing how much light the patio cover actually blocked from our downstairs living space. The sun just shines right into the back side of the house now, since this is the west facing portion of our house. You can also see how much he has already taken off, Since I took this picture about a half hour ago, he has removed even more.

Looking up at him through the beams while he works. Very nice.

A Vow: The Scope of Things

Thursday morning was just like any other morning, make the girls breakfast, make Rhayn a lunch, get dressed. Only after we dropped her off, I would be headed over to the Endoscopy Clinic to be given conscious sedation while a long tube was sent up my backside to check out my innards and I hadn't been able to eat for over 24 hours and I hadn't had a drink since midnight.

I packed Gwennie some things to munch on and toys because Will was planning on sticking around the clinic whilst I was indisposed. I was scheduled to be taken back at 9:30, and we got there with plenty of time to spare.

We sat and listened to a crazy man talking about the UFOs and space, as well as time, travel. He went on and on at a decibel that meant we should listen to him. He said he planned to build a spacecraft that would go "about a million miles an hour, just a simple one." It was quite entertaining. He also mentioned how he had been about five thousand years in the future and about two thousand years in the past, but it wasn't like he planned it.

I was finally called back, and kissed Will on my way back. I was led to a room full of beds with curtains around them. I was shown to my bed, given a robe, and told I only needed to undress from the waist down. I did so, then lay on the bed, with a blanket over me and Dead and Gone by Charlaine Harris in my hands. (I read very little, because I was listening to the person to my left talking about how she used to do heroin.)

After a few minutes a nurse came over, she asked me a bunch of questions, including "Are you pregnant, or do you think you might be?" I knew, because I am in tune with my body, that I was due to ovulate right around then. She took my temperature which was slightly elevated (indicative of ovulation.) I was told another nurse would be over in a few moments to put in my IV. This is when I started shaking. I do not like IVs, they scare me, they hurt. This kind old black nurse came over, and joked with me, while she had me take deep breaths. She commented on my "tiny little veins" and blew out the first time she tried. Then blew out the second one, and that one really hurt (still does.) She said her limit was two tries and she called over another nurse who got it to work immediately (with less pain.) Another nurse came over, to wheel me back to the room, and to give me my drugs.

We got to the room, it looked like an ultrasound room. There was soft music playing in the back ground. The doctor came over and asked out my day had been the day before, had everything come out alright? Yes I said. Then I hear him mutter something about two different kinds of medication and I didn't see him again. The nurse put something into the IV and it hurt just a little. I concentrated on figuring out what the music was, and the next thing I knew, I was in the recovery area, and was being asked if I would like some juice, or water, as they nurse pressed on my abdomen. I chose orange juice. Then I was told I could put my pants back on. (Which I did clumsily while trying not to fall over.) I vaguely recall sipping orange juice, and falling back into a dream land.

Some more time must have gone by, and I was helped over to a recliner, where I could barely sit up. The kindly black nurse asked me if my ride was outside or did we need to call them. I told her he should be there and to check, but we might need to call him. I dozed some more, and another nurse came over to sign my release papers. She said my ride was outside "and the baby is asleep." (It wasn't until later I realized she meant Gwennie was asleep, she isn't really a baby in my eyes anymore.)

I stumbled to the waiting room, and once again its a blur, and I was in the truck sitting down. Will asked me if I wanted to get a milkshake, since I hadn't eaten in a while. I must have said yes, because we were in the Jack-in-the-Box drive through and I had a vanilla milkshake in my hands. He took me home. I put on Harry Potter. I collapsed on the sectional while he went to get Rhayn and run a few errands.

I slept deeply for a while, until I heard Penny outside whining. I went outside, and couldn't find Lily. I walked to the front of the house and called for her, she came running happily from the neighbor's side yard. I sighed, took her inside, and lay back on the couch and fell back asleep.

The phone rang some time later, and I told Will that I was fine, and how Lily had gotten out. Then hung up the phone, sipped my milkshake, thought about getting up to make a baked potato before I fell back to sleep.

I spent the rest of the afternoon in the dream-like state, even after they got home. I still feel a little out of it, and am really tempted to lay back on the sectional and rest some more (to another Harry Potter movie.)

A vow: Quick Update

I am still not feeling 100% from the sedation, but wanted to let all my loyal readers that I am fine. The procedure went well, I have a couple little things wrong but nothing a nice high fiber diet won't help. I will post more tomorrow when I am feeling better.

Thanks for any well wishes and good vibes you sent my way.

A Vow: In Preparation. Liquids and Laxatives (TMI!)

Oh, yuck. Yuck yuck yuck. Um, yuckers.

Many of you should STOP READING RIGHT NOW! okay? I am not to blame if you learn way more than you EVER wanted to.

Okay, now.

I am living on liquids and laxatives today.* All I want to do is eat food, I keep thinking about bread, and popcorn, and lettuce wraps from Pei Wei. nom nom nom. Instead I may have chicken broth (no noodles or vegetables), jell-o (but not red of purple colored) and juice (clear). Gag.

My day started with a tasty breakfast of plain bagel and egg whites. Then at 9am, I had to take 4 Dulcolax tablets. Afterwards I could have liquids. At 1 pm I was to start a regimen of Miralax and juice, to equal 238grams of Miralax and 64 ounces of juice. Mix, chill and drink 8 ounces every 10-15 minutes until gone.

Gag.

I chose white grape juice. I had gotten through approximately 48 ounces of the juice and suddenly it all came back up. Retch. I had to call the doctor and ask for advice. Her advice was to chill the juice, give my belly a half hour or so before starting again. My goal, I was told, (TMI Coming up!) is to basically be peeing out of my butt. The stuff coming out my backside should be yellowish clear. Well, I am nearly there. I have a couple more cups of the juice, which is now watered down and iced, which seems to be helping a little with the gag effect, to go.

I am so ready for today to be over. At least Will took the girls out for a little while, he had an errand to run, and is taking them to Bahama Bucks (lucky girls, I could have that, but can't be away from a toilet for long enough to get there, or even more than 5 minutes.)

Tomorrow I will have more exciting news about this procedure, hopefully the drugs they give me are awesome enough to make up for this day. And I hope Will knows we are stopping for Lettuce Wraps on the way home from the procedure**.

*Sounds like a Nirvana song lyric, I think. No cherry flavored antacids though.
**Is it wrong that I think of sex when I hear the word procedure? Its all Dooce's fault, after the birth of her oldest, she discusses how they "reconvened the procedure" as innuendo for resuming her sex life after baby. Its ruined the word procedure for me, forever. I think I may have even linked to that same post some time after Gwennie was born, when we, ahem, "reconvened the procedure". We unfortunately can not reconvene the procedure, at least not today. Tomorrow? we'll see.

Just Because

I really have nothing to say today, so lets look at some pictures shall we?

Hairball and Alex, kissy face, (sometime in 2003?)

My mom and Susana being silly at Great Grandma's housewarming party. (April 2003)

JVA, SLO and Rhayn (April 2003)

Rhayn, age 2, decorating the mirror with Pond's Cold Cream. (May 2003)

Rhayn's favorite outfit and stuffed hamster (Sept 2004)

Family 2004, weeks before we found out we were expecting Gwennie.

sometimes

Sometimes life is really hard, and there is nothing you can do to help those closest to you feel better.
Sometimes you are the cause of that pain.
Sometimes there is just no way to know what causes it.
And sometimes you wish you had someone to talk to about it all.

A Vow: In Preparation.

On Wednesday I have to take a mad amount of laxatives in preparation for my colonoscopy. I am not looking forward to it.

The actual procedure doesn't worry me at all. They give you some pretty good medication to make it comfortable. It isn't a long process either. The thing that is freaking me out? Not being able to eat all day tomorrow while having to take laxatives to clean my intestines completely out. I like food, and not being able to eat is going to make me grumpy, REALLY grumpy. Will has been warned, and there is nothing else I can do to prepare.

Tonsil stones

Will found this article about tonsil stones this morning. Upon reading it, I had an a-ha moment. I get those gross things.

Sometime last summer my throat was sore, and while waiting at a stop light, I looked at my tonsils like I often do, hoping it wasn't turning into strep throat. On my right tonsil there was a whitish patch. When I got home I pushed on the tonsil, and it popped out. I swiped it off of my tonsil with a cotton swab, and looked at it. I pressed on it with my thumb and forefinger, and it wasn't hard although it had felt hard in my tonsil. I didn't think anything more of it and went on my merry way.

Months later if happened again. No big deal, I cleaned them (there were three this time) out. Done with it. I am almost positive that I had them three times in the past year.

Interesting, but not problematic.