Shock

I can’t sleep.
My friend’s baby died today.
Her baby died.
I had read that she has been taken to hospital by ambulance. I was worried, so this afternoon I sent her an email.

Just catching up on what’s going on with your baby girl. I’ve been so busy and wrapped up in my stupid little world.
If you need ANYTHING, please don’t hesitate to call me. I’m only an hour-ish away.
Thinking of you all.

She wrote back and said she was worried. Maddie was breathing really hard and the doctors didn’t know why. She was scared, but glad she was being monitored so closely.
I remember feeling worried, but thinking they would figure out what was wrong and she would get better. She had to get better.
Then, tonight, I clicked over to her blog and read this.
My husband was sitting here on the couch with me when I read it. I threw my laptop down and just shouted “NO! NO!!”
I started to shake. I was in shock.
I then called a couple of friends who are also friends with Heather and we sobbed together in disbelieve.
It’s unreal. I still can’t believe it.
Every time I close my eyes to try to sleep, I think of Heather. I think of the last time I saw her– we were at the LA food bank, volunteering our time. She was so kind and wonderful to be around. Towards the end of the day, she got a phone call from her babysitter. Maddie had a fever. I saw the worry instantly sweep over her face. I told her it was okay if she needed to leave. I could just feel the love she had for her baby girl in that moment.
I keep thinking of the way she spoke of her daughter. I keep thinking of her sweet smile

And then… I think of how her world just fell apart today. How she no longer has her baby girl to kiss or hug. I think of in the blink of an eye,everything changed. I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around the devastation she feels. The heartache. I hurt for her. For her husband. And for that beautiful baby Madeline who left this earth way too soon.
I don’t understand. I can’t make sense of it at all.
Please pray for Heather and her husband. They’re going to need all of the love and support we have to offer to help carry them through this horrible time in their lives.

Defeated

Since being diagnosed with Hashimoto’s, I’ve had more than one doctor tell me that it would be difficult to lose weight They made it sound like it would be impossible. I was even told to measure my success by “not gaining weight.” instead of “by losing weight.”
Because that’s not depressing enough, I was told by an emergency room doctor that I would need to use extreme caution when exercising because hypothyroidism had caused irregularities in my heart beat. I was told it was okay to walk and lift light weights, but not much more than that.
I remember walking out of the emergency room feeling hopeless. How could I ever lose the 70 pounds I had put on since this whole thyroid mess began by WALKING? Especially when doctors had already made it clear that weight loss would be such a challenge.
I also felt fear. Fear that I could possibly kill myself by working out just a little too hard.
I was deeply depressed for weeks. I tried to pretend like everything was fine, like I knew I was going to be okay eventually. But that wasn’t the truth. I felt hopeless, scared and very sad at what had become of this body of mine.
Recently, something kind of amazing happened. After a year of being on thyroid medication (for a condition that went undiagnosed for almost TWO YEARS.) I began to feel a bit more like myself. I had more energy. I wasn’t mentally exhausted every minute of every day. I no longer felt depressed and the mental fog I had been living in was lifting. So, I decided it was time to do something about my weight. Because I finally felt strong enough to do it. I joined Weight Watchers and began working out in the gym again.
It wasn’t easy at first. But I had the stamina to stick with it.
And every time I worked out, I felt just a little bit better. I was careful with my heart rate, but I didn’t let fear stop me from pushing myself just a little bit harder. I went from being able to only do 20 minutes at a level 5 to doing 45 minutes at a level 8-9. And I FINALLY STARTED TO SWEAT. I felt so damn good that one time? I started to cry happy tears. WHILE WORKING OUT. It was cheesy, but wonderful at the same time.
The first month, I lost 10 pounds. Which was a MIRACLE for my body. At least it felt like one.
But now, here we are, months later and guess what? I’ve not lost a single pound. In fact? I’ve gained a pound.
I know I said I wasn’t going to pay attention to the numbers on the scale. Because this is about getting healthy! This is about strengthening my heart! And adding years to my life! And I AM stronger! I HAVE built up endurance! GO MY BODY!!
But, I am 80 pounds over weight. At some point, I need to see the numbers drop on the scale. Or at LEAST the dress sizes drop. But… NOTHING. It’s not happening and seriously? WHAT THE HELL?
I’ve been going to the gym faithfully at least 5 nights a week. And I’ll spend at least 1-2 hours there working my ass off every time I go. When I don’t go, I work out here with weights and squats and walks around the block. I’m staying within my points on weight watchers (except for the night I had a chocolate chip calzone and 2 martinis on date night. Oh! And a cadbury egg last night. But even still… WORKING!OUT!EVERY!NIGHT!)
The point is this. After weeks of walking around going “I may not be losing weight, but I’m gaining strength! And I feel better!” the lack of any significant change to my weight has finally knocked me on my ass.
I feel defeated.
Last night my husband tried to make me feel better about it. “Honey, you’re working so hard. You’re trying to do the right thing and that’s all that matters.”
“I know.” I said. “I’m proud of myself for that. But.. imagine if you were working hard to pay down your debt. And every week when you got paid, you took any extra money and applied it towards that debt. You sacrificed doing things you loved so you could pay that debt off. And imagine if every week when you checked the balance, it stayed the same. Even though you had put every extra penny you had towards the balance. It hadn’t budged a single penny. WOULD YOU NOT BE UPSET?”
He got it.
I hate to be all Soap Opera Serious, but– that’s how I feel today. Maybe I’ll feel better once I’m at the gym tonight, but right now, in this moment, I feel hopeless. This isn’t about vanity. This is about feeling scared for what all of this extra weight is doing to me internally and feeling hopeless to change it. I’ve been doing all of the “right things” and it’s not working.
What else can I do?

The Winner is

Things are crazy busy here this weekend. (See: PAINTING. Also see: FUN!)
But! I didn’t want to keep you waiting to find out who won a copy of Understanding Exposure.
The winner:

Jessica of The Hunter’s Prize.
Tonight I’m going to pour myself a glass of Blackberry Wild Vines and look at all of the photos you so kindly left links to in the comments. You are the best, You Guys. 🙂

Exposure

When I first started using my Canon Rebel, I shot everything in auto or aperture priority. After several weeks of shooting in auto mode, I began to question my decision to spend money on the new camera. The reason I wanted to upgrade from my point and shoot digital camera to a DSLR in the first place was because I wanted to have more creative control over the pictures that I took.
However, I was overwhelmed with all of the features and buttons and OH MY GOD APERTURE WHAT? ISO THE HELL? I mean, I knew what “exposure” meant and that it was “very important.” (Lighting is EVERYTHING!) But I didn’t know how apature/iso/speed all worked together. And anything I would read about it would make me cry a little because TOO MUCH INFORMATION. BRAIN JUST DIED A LITTLE.
I began to ask my brother in law, who is an incredibly talented photographter, some questions and he did his best to help me understand what it all meant. And as he would tell me, I’d be all “Ohh, I get it!” But the next day, I’d be all “wait, low light needs higher f-stop or is it the other way around and ISO is for what again?” For some reason, all of the information just wasn’t clicking.
But I was determined to shoot in manual. I was determined to learn how it all worked because a) creative control! b) I HATE FLASH.
Then, one day a friend suggested that I buy a book titled Understanding Exposure. I ordered it on Amazon that day.
I’ve not shot in “automode” since reading that book. The way that the author breaks it all down was perfect for my delicate little brain. It may not be “the best” book out there about exposure and how it all works, but it’s definitely been the most helpful to ME.
Here’s an example:
Just before I left for NYC last April, I read the chapter on “panning.” I had never heard of panning, nor did I ever think I’d need to know how to take a panning shot.
The last night of our stay in NYC, we decided to take a late night walk to Times Square. As we were waiting for the light to change so we could cross the street, I noticed the taxi cabs racing by us. And then I thought. “speeding cabs, bright lights in the background. OMG PANNING!” And so I tried the technique that I had read about in Understanding Exposure.
This was the result:

Awesome, yes?
Yes.
I recently decided that I want to learn more and felt that another camera upgrade was in order. So, I sold my rebel and a lens that I loved very much. (Because it took shots like this) With that money, I was able to purchase a Canon 40d. I am more inspired than ever to learn more about photography. I want to see how far I can go with something that I may not be the best at, but love with a passion.
Now, because I love this book and because I love the people who are still reading my blawwg, I’d like to give away one copy of Understanding Exposure. I will purchase the book from Amazon and immediately ship to the winner. All you need to do is leave a comment on this post. That’s it. I would love if your comment included a link to your favorite picture, taken by YOU. Just for fun! I will close comments on this entry on Friday night (tomorrow) and announce the winner shortly after (no later than Monday morning, depending on how busy the weekend is.)
Comments are now closed. Thank you for the links to your photos. Will keep looking at them over the weekend.
xo

“I love my life with my wife”

A few months ago, I found a few of my husband’s best friends from high school on Facebook. I showed PigHunter and he asked me if I could contact them on his behalf. I sent them messages and that very same day both friends had returned my messages and added me as a friend.
PigHunter was confused by this. “Why did they add YOU as a friend? They’re MY friends, not YOUR friends!” I had to explain to him that, oh, I don’t know, because HE DIDN’T HAVE A FACEBOOK ACCOUNT AND I DID? Like, Facebook doesn’t magically create accounts for people, you have to create one yourself, dude.
You see, my husband doesn’t understand most things on the internet. The entire concept of creating accounts and passwords is lost on him. He’s like “I tried to log into my email, but it won’t let me. I don’t get it– I entered my first and last name! What is going on here!?”
It’s THAT bad.
Anyway.
On Monday I received a friend request with a message that said “Hi, this is tj, me and PigHunter used to hang out all of time in high school. Could you please tell him I said hi?”
I called my husband at work to tell him about the message.
“Some woman named TJ sent a request to be my friend on facebook. She said you used to hang out all of the time.” He was all “we were just friends!” And I was all “Whatever, I wrote her back and told her I’d give you the message.” I then proceeded to tell him that if Caroline ever found him and requested to be my friend I’d hit IGNORE and tell that bitch to step off. “Why would you do that?” He asked. “Because, I saw what you wrote about her in your yearbook. I will NEVER friend her, just so you know.” And he got all… upset? Which of course means he totally would cheat on me with her. So I was all “Fine! I’ll just make you your own facebook account so you can friend your GIRLFRIEND, YOU ASS.”
And I did.
I had the following conversation with a friend the morning after I created his account.
Me: in other news, I made Tony a facebook page. And I’m plastering my pictures all over it because bitches from high school be friending him and sending him messages.
Her: Hahahahhahaa
Me: AHAHA
Her: Hobbies: Lovin my wife
Me: hahhahahdlahfadlhflakhsf;alhksdaaa
Me: “loving my wife. Thinking about my beautiful wife all day and while surfing the internet”
Her: I just go follow the links my wife provides!
Me: “Status: I haven’t approved your friend requests until now because my wife just told me my password, since she is the one who knows it and WILL USE IT.”
Her: Dude, he needs a blinkie icon that says “lovin my wife”
Me: I’m using this as his profile picture!

I showed him the conversation when he came home from work and once I assured him I had not, nor would I ever, put that picture on his profile page, he laughed and laughed!
And then he asked me to log him into his account so he could see who had sent friend requests! I did and he had 10 requests, half from women.
That is where the real fun began.
I was all “want me to accept her request?”
He was all “No! I didn’t like her in high school! Why would I want to be her friend?”
And I was all “accepting her request doesn’t mean you literally have to be her friend. People just like to friend people they knew in high school so they can see what you’re up to and stuff like that.”
“I don’t give a shit– it’s none of her business what I am up to!”
I started to feel bad for this girl so I tried to convince him to accept her request.
“She’s friends with your other friends! Babe, just accept it. She’ll probably just say Hi and you’ll never have to talk to her again. You don’t have to ACTUALLY BE HER FRIEND. Like, we’re not going to invite her over for dinner.”
“It says F-R-I-E-N-D request, implying we’re friends!”
“oh my God, no…”
And then he got Very Serious. “Drop it, Y. I’m not accepting! I don’t want to be her friend!”
Turns out, my husband’s facebook account is the funniest thing in my life right now. I can’t wait for the requests to rolling in. The JOY it brings to my soul to watch him struggle with the decision of allowing someone to be his “friend” or not. JOY!
I’m tempted to ask all of you to friend him just to watch his head explode.

Beautiful little lady

I didn’t know that they had taken preschool graduation pictures last month (wouldn’t have braided her hair had I READ THE LETTER they sent home. Ack!) So, when I opened the envelope after the teacher handed to me this morning, I cried. I couldn’t help it. It was one of those “punch in the gut” moments where I realize that my children are growing faster than I’d like them too.
That said– she sure is growing into a beautiful little lady and I couldn’t be more proud of everything about her.

My husband can beat The Internet at “Directions.”

The things that make my husband mad never cease to amaze me. Because he doesn’t get mad about the obvious things. Like traffic, or higher taxes. But leave the iron plugged in after you’re done using it and he loses his damn mind. “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH ENERGY THAT WASTES? OBVIOUSLY NOT OR YOU WOULD HAVE UNPLUGGED IT. FOR CRISSAKES, WOMAN!”
This afternoon I was looking up directions to the Barbie’s Malibu Dream House. I asked him to come take a look and confirm that the directions were correct.
“Why did they tell you to go THAT way? What the hell were they thinking?” He said, all angrily.
“They’re not right?” I asked, totally enjoying his outrage over stupid directions.
Next thing I know, he’s drawing furiously on a piece of paper.

Then, he goes something like “You see, this is the 10, they want you to go on this freeway, then go one this one, and then this one. You see how they have you driving all over the place? All you need to do is go like this, then like this, then like this. IT’S VERY SIMPLE.”
DID YOU HEAR THAT MAPQUEST? PigHunter just took you to Freeway School.

I Miss Blogging

And I miss you.
That is all.

You may need to take a violation shower after you finish reading this one.

A few weeks ago I found myself sitting in a cold room in urgent care waiting to have x-rays taken. I had been involved in a car accident and wanted (needed) to make sure that all discs in my back were okay and not going to start bulging again anytime soon.
I speak from experience when I say that bulging discs are NOT FUN.
Before the doctor took the x-rays, he asked me a few standard questions.
“Are you pregnant?”
“no.”
“Any chance you could be pregnant.”
“No.”
“When was your last menstrual cycle.”
I had to think about that one for a minute. It had been a while since I had one, but I hadn’t really given much thought to HOW long. So, I did a little mental math (winners do the math!)
“I’ve not had a period since October.”
What the hell, My Body?
The doctor stopped typing on the computer, looked at me and said “And you’re NOT pregnant?”
“Nope.” I said, all sure because… VASECTOMY! HASHIMOTOS! NO POSSIBLE WAY!
“Well, I’d like to give you a pregnancy test before we take the x-rays just to be sure.”
“That’s fine.” I said, getting a little nervous now because ALL THINGS ALL POSSIBLE THROUGH CHRIST.
He handed me a cup and was all “go forth and pee in this here cup. Once we get the results, we’ll send you downstairs for x-rays.”
A little fact about me: I hate peeing in The Cup. When I was sick as a teenager, my mom took me to the doctors and brought my best friend along. I had to pee in The Cup so they could check for a bladder infection. I went into the bathroom, did my business and walked out of the bathroom, pee cup in hand. As soon as my mom saw it, she started to laugh. And then my best friend started to laugh. I was all “WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING? WHAT IS SO FUNNY?”
Apparently, you don’t need to fill the cup all of the way to to top. “they just need a little bit of pee” my mom said, while laughing at my full cup of pee.
So, to this day, I never know how much is too much. And it stresses me the HELL OUT. Like, I don’t want to under pee and have to do it all over again. I also don’t want to OVER pee and risk the doctors and lab technicians pointing and laughing at my cup. You know? (You’re all “No, I do not know at all whatsoever.)
ANYway.
The pregnancy test came back negative and so the doctor sent me for x-rays. After the x-rays arrived, the doctor sat down in front of me to tell me that everything looked good. I just had some strain and which kind of muscle relaxer would I like?
(Answer: Soma, please.)
But then, he started talking about my lack of a period.
“You really do need to see your doctor about that because not having a period increases your chances of uterine cancer.”
I already knew this based on the last time I saw my gyno for missed periods. And the biopsy had revealed that my uterine lining was too thick and I had been ordered to take some kind of a hormone to make me bleed so that I could shed that lining. I never took those pills because right after I saw her, my periods started coming regularly again and I thought there wasn’t any need to take a pill that increased my risk for BLOOD CLOTS. I have enough health problems as it is. I don’t need to walk around wondering if the pain I feel in my leg could possibly be a blood clot that is going to travel to my heart and kill me!
(Not that I’m a complete freak about things. NOT AT ALL.)
I had forgot all about that fear until this doctor went and brought it up again. The entire way home, all I could think of was UTERINE CANCER. UUUTTERRRINNNEE CAAANNNNCCCCEEERR.
Naturally, I called Kaiser first thing in the morning to try to get an appointment with my gynecologist. The soonest appointment she had available was in May. (!@$%@!!!!) So, I had to do something I never, ever want to do. I had to schedule a “Possibly Have to Look at Your Vagina” type appointment with my family doctor. Who happens to be a man. Who also happens to be related to a friend of mine. And, really, that just adds a layer to the awkwardness that is someone who is NOT MY HUSBAND examining my vagina.
When I arrived at my appointment, the nurse asked me to undress from the waist down. She handed me a sheet to cover my from the waist down nakedness. I sat there waiting for Dr.M with my sheet securely placed so as not to reveal any of my half naked body. He knocked on the door a few minutes later and was all “Hey Y. Nice to see you again.” He begin asking me questions about what was going on (or, in my case, NOT going on) down there and I was all “I haven’t had a period since October and the doctor in urgent care said I needed to see you about that because.. UTERINE CANCER.”
He ordered some test to check my hormones and also ordered a pelvic ultrasound. And then he was said the words that brought peace to my soul. “You just had a biopsy and pap smear done last summer. We won’t need to do that again. Go ahead and get dressed while I order your tests.”
Vaginal Exam AVERTED!
A few days later I was laying on a table in a dark room while a technician put a glob of warm goo on my belly and begin pressing the ultrasound camera all up on my pelvis area. I watched her face closely to see if I could figure out if if what she was seeing was good or bad. Surely, if there were a tumor or something awful like that, it would show on her face. At one point, she looked a little… concerned? “Everything okay?” I asked. “Yeah, I’m just trying to get your bowel out of the way.” I HATE it when my bowel gets in the way. SO annoying.
“I’m almost finished with this part” she said “But your doctor has requested I do a vaginal ultrasound as well. Is that okay with you?”
Really, did she need to ask? I love having giant dildos with cameras shoved up in me by complete strangers!
Except, did you know that they don’t actually insert the camera? But that they ask you to put it in yourself as they’re putting a giant condom on it?
I almost passed out from embarrassment as she handed the Vag Cam over to me and watched me as I ha ha ha you know, hahaa put it in. And because it wasn’t awkward enough, I accidentally made eye contact with her just as I was doing it. I panicked and blurted out “Is that up far enough?” Which, OF COURSE IT WASN’T! So she was all “just a little bit farther.” And I was all “SURE THING!” Things got even more weird when she was moving the camera around inside of me and begin PUSHING ON MY LEG. It took me a few minutes to get that it was her way of asking me to “open them legs up just a little more, please” without actually having to utter the words “spread ’em” out loud.
GOD.
I can’t think of anything in my life that was more embarrassing than that experience. Not even making a Little Poopie while giving birth to my first son. NOT EVEN THAT.
The good news is that all of the tests came back normal. No cysts or tumors or cancer.
The bad news is that I still have not started my period and they can’t give me one good reason why. I get a little panicky when I think of the 5 months worth of back up all up in my Ute, but my doctor told me not to worry and to just enjoy not having a period. Which, really? Me? Not worry? ESPECIALLY after two other doctors are all “UTERINE CANCER!!!”? I’m trying really hard to relax and “enjoy it” (which… how does one “enjoy” the absence of a period?) But “relaxing” “not worrying” and “enjoying” are not things that come easily to me. Especially when things aren’t working as they should be.
Any tips on how one can go about “enjoying not having a period” will be much appreciated.

16

My love for my children is divided equally.
One is not more loved than the other, but they each possess unique traits that make them special to me.
G is special because she is the daughter I never thought I would have. When she came into our lives, she brought a fresh, new joy to our family that was much needed.
The Middle Child is special because he was the brother we always wanted our first son to have. And he came into this world with Personality and character. He was a Momma’s Boy from the very start. To this day, I think of the way he would squish my face with his chubby little hands and say “I just yuv you SO MUCH Mommy. Your SO booful, Mommy.” when he was just a little guy and it my heart will expand 10 sizes.
The Teenager. (Let’s see if I can get through this one without doing The Ugly Cry.) That boys is special to me for many reasons, but mostly, because he is the baby that made me a mother. I was only 22 years old when he came into my life exactly 16 years ago today.
Being his mother has never felt difficult. As a baby, he was easy in every sense. And 16 years later, that is still very true. Sure, things have become a bit more complicated now that he’s a teenager. He’s NOT perfect. However, my son has a good heart and a desire to do the right thing.

I’m a lucky Mom in that way.
I am going to end this by re-posting a portion of what I wrote on his 13th birthday. Because 3 years later, the emotions I expressed in that post still hold true.

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