P.S.

If you were ever a fan of the "Faith & Art" blog? It's making a comeback... (CLICK HERE FOR VERY VAGUE DETAILS)

Sunday night.

I'm tired. Are you tired? I'm tired.

It's been a very long week. I had two deadlines, one of which has come and gone, the other is coming up. The project is already submitted and I'm just waiting to hear if there are any adjustments that need to be made before going to print. It's the first time in a while that I've worked with a strict deadline and I found I couldn't get it off my mind. I'm discovering I have an anal retentive streak that threatens to leave me sleepless (and useless!) if I don't watch it. I used to think Liam's issues were random, now I wonder if some weren't inherited from his mother...

Speaking of the boy wonder, tonight is Liam's last Sunday as a seven year old. Tomorrow is his last Monday of being a seven year old (starting to imagine how my last week has sounded?) Liam turns eight on Tuesday. And I'm going to break with convention here and say I can honestly see where the time has gone.

It doesn't really seem like "just yesterday" since he was born. It seems like Liam's been a part of our lives forever. I honestly don't remember that self-conscious, post partum person I was when we brought him home. I've tried to block out those feelings of inadequecy I felt when he refused to nurse or the hurt I hid when other babies were in the throes of seperation anxiety and Liam cried when we tried to take him out of the church nursery (true story.) Since his testing back in 2005, when we had some things finally explained to us about who he is and why? Those feelings have been replaced with new ones and I'm finally able to believe the negative things weren't caused by our parenting and many of the positives were. That is a good feeling. A powerful and reassuring feeling. Now when I look at Liam? I see a miracle to watch and be thrilled with instead of a puzzle that needs to be solved.

Tag, I'm it.

Yeah, I'm only a little slow on the draw. Betsy tagged me last month but because I'm a giant weinerschnitzel I had lost the link to her blog and had not caught up. Because I suck lately. Ok, I only semi-suck, the rest of the suckage can be attributed to my crazy body and the turmoil it is causing me lately (did I mention that I hate birth control pills? Because I do. I hate them like that dog outside apparently hates peace and quiet. Shut. UP!)(And could I possibly be more random right now? Probably not.)

So here are five things the world may not know about me:

1. I am a big fan of "The Tick" cartoon. Spoon!

2. I would much rather do art with my hands than with my computer.

3. Though I use a Mac and appreciate its ability to render graphics without wigging out, I really don't dig the whole Mac subculture thing that's going on. I love my computer but it does not make me smarter, cooler, richer, prettier or smell better than anyone else. Just saying. I think we may need some perspective here, people.

4. I get way too emotionally invested in the secrets I read every Sunday. (and thanks to Betsy herself for the heads up on Post Secret a few years ago.)

5. I'm a big fan of Guinness, on tap if possible.

So do I know five people who blog who will also take up this tag and go with it? Let's see...

"Red rover, red rover, send Heather, Amy, Jodi, Linda and anyone from my family who will respond over..." (you can put yours in the comments section!)

Train wreck.

So I must have been offline most of the last few days or something. How the heck did I miss that Britney Spears shaved her head and is now bald? What the crap is that? I mean, I'm not a big fan or anything but after seeing photos of her (on CNN? And what's that about?! Is CNN the new E! and I missed
it?) Anyway, the photos I've seen of her online or on TV lately? She looks so sad.

I know she has kids to take care of. And I don't know if this crap that's causing her to have so little self-respect and dignity is drugs, drinking, something in her past or personal life or post-partum depression. I don't know who's to blame for her problems, I'm sure she should be held responsible for her role as well, at some point (when you're trying to help someone I don't think telling them how crappy they are is the best way to start the conversation.) Regardless, I feel like I'm watching someone drowning and can't do anything about it, you know? Even when you try to not see it, it's everywhere. I hope someone can reach her before she hurts herself.

Good heavens. She makes my head hurt. And makes me a little sniffy for her.

Cincinnati.

*Check comment section for clarification.

I've been doing a little project that required me to answer some simple questions about myself - birthdate, family, location, etc. My "location" answer? Cincinnati. Some of my neighbors here in the northern suburb of Liberty Township disagree. They want nothing to do with the city anymore as they consider it an outdated, badly run embarrassment. They wear their suburban titles proudly. Which is fine... I guess. I mean, it's true, we don't live within city limits (in fact, we're probably a fifteen or twenty minute drive to the city limits.) Not only do we not live in Hamilton County (the county in which the city of Cincinnati is located) but we're in the next county north, and at the middle of that county, closer to the northern edge than the southern. So I get the feeling of being removed. And for people who've moved from other larger urban areas ours seems very removed for sure. I really do get that. But I will always say "Cincinnati" when someone asks. Whether it's habit or stubborness (with a little optimism thrown in) I don't know.

My immediate family moved to the suburbs when I was in kindergarten. But my family, all sides, have their roots down in St. Bernard. It's a tiny little city, surrounded on all sides by the city of Cincinnati. St. Bernard always maintained its independence from the city around it because Proctor & Gamble had many of it's manufacturing facilities within St. Bernard's city limits. The tiny little city raked in big tax revenue and up until a few years ago was doing fairly well for being a non-trendy area so close to downtown. But then Proctor & Gamble pulled out, Ivorydale closed and for the first time in decades - possibly longer - St. Bernard was hurting. It's really sad to see, though we don't see much of it anymore as my Grandparents are no longer there. Grandpa Stegman died when I was in high school and Grandma Stegman moved this past year. Grandpa and Grandma Kelly died when I was in college. Grandpa Joe died eight years ago and Grandma moved into a retirement apartment a few years ago.

We have no living connections left though we stop at Chili Time on the way to the zoo or the way back from the hospital. Then I find myself taking a detour up Tower Avenue and onto Jackson, smiling at the little girl making her way up my Grandparents' front steps into the house I can navigate with my eyes closed yet would probably no longer recognize with my eyes open.

The photo above is from St. Mary's cementary in St. Bernard. It is where two of my grandpas are buried, along with my great grandparents and great-great grandparents. I have personal memories of some of them and only know stories about others. But to be able to walk into a place and know that connection is grounding. My great-grandmothers were friends growing up here and that's what I think of when I've wondered through the tombstones, not the literal reality of death. It's not morbid at all; it's comforting.

Regardless of its crumbling outside, St. Bernard has a history too old to ignore. Like the city of Cincinnati surrounding it, it's just waiting for someone or something to come along and pull it up. I believe it can be done. I believe Cincinnati, too, can once again become the energetic city it was up until the early 1990's. I guess in St. Bernard I see a smaller version of what the city of Cincinnati has to overcome. And I'm praying for both. I can't change my history, and I wouldn't choose to. So the next logical step is to try to preserve it in a way that honors the people that built and populated both cities. Anyone who's read this blog for a while knows some of why we landed here in the suburbs rather than the city when we moved from Maryland last August -- Liam's stuff required a school district with a record for being able to help kids with diverse abilities. Rusty's job is in Mason, another far northern suburb, and he's able to commute fairly quickly and without needing to drive the interstate. We couldn't afford most of the family friendly areas within the city and a school for Liam's stuff (Cincinnati public schools are not equipt, as my friend Jen can verify after teaching there.) And we weren't ready for another rehab... yet. Maybe one day we'll be closer to the city. Regardless? If there is some way of helping restore some of the life, I'm happy to do it. I think I'm going to explore the possibilities and pray about it more specifically.

I want to end this by linking to a blog post I somehow stumbled onto. Honestly, I have no clue how I found this but I'm SO glad I did. I think reading something like this makes me realize my feelings aren't unique. And that gives me a reminder to pray about this, for this area, the cities of St. Bernard and Cincinnati and the people there. If you live anywhere in the Greater Cincinnati area I really want you to read this and pray too. I'm interested and excited to see God answer these prayers:

http://mariatortilla.livejournal.com/362124.html?view=892556#t892556

Bruiser.

"Sean's face? Meet the table."

"Table? Meet Sean's face."

(Hoping this isn't an ongoing thing.)

Doritos Commercial

So Doritos ran a contest for people to submit commercials and the winner will play during the Super Bowl. This is my favoriate and makes me laugh every time. The actress is hysterical and her "old school" hand sign cracked me up. And the mustache? Dude, the commerical should totally win on the mustache alone.

Here she is, the "Checkout Girl":

Horrifying.

You know what's scary? Tonight, I turned on the radio in the car and the station I scanned to advertised that they were having an "All Hits Weekend." And then they played Ice, Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice.

What makes it more than merely scary? I sang along to the chorus. And may possibly have bit my bottom lip and bobbed my head while car dancing.

Then the kicker: the next two songs in their "All Hits Weekend?" Black Eyed Peas and Kid Rock (I'm considering the possibility that my burrito contained hallucinagens and instead of "All Hits Weekend" they were really saying, "Songs that sucked hard weekend.")

Word to your mutha'.

My Haiku Gift to You.

(Ok. So I'm a little inspired.)

Unpronounceable
Swedish name on flat pack box
Blue and yellow joy.



(P.S. No, I don't own that table. Just love the name.)

Sunday night.

I've been avoiding you, internet. I've been avoiding this blog. At first I was able to blow it off as not wanting to deal with Blogger's Beta template conversions and having to go back in and re-write my header code. But that's been done. And I'm still lacking any motivation to blog. It's not like I'm not thinking about writing. It's always there, in the back of my mind. Because this started out as an outlet for me to work through my salvation (if you dig far enough, back to 2004?)

I'd love to tell you that I've been deep in spiritual thought, wrestling with God over my life and what it means and what I'm feeling. I wish I had a smart ass way to tell you how totally uninspired I feel right now in a lot of ways. I know those of you who know me will read that to mean I haven't worked on anything lately. Which isn't the case - I've been working on all kinds of stuff lately. And some of it has been pretty good (some of it has not, but that is just because I'm working from a pre-existing site that was not my own design and the design snob within is being a mighty beeyotch.)

No, I've been busy work wise. But I just feel kind of "half there" in everything right now. Am I unhappy? No, not overall. Am I depressed? I don't know. Am I uncomfortable? Most definitely. I feel as though my body is betraying me and these birth control pills I'm taking to regulate my hormones for the PCOS nonsense are doing a job on me. Add to that the fact that Liam has decided he "hates" school and spent close to an hour crying at bedtime trying to convince Rusty and I that his principal and teacher told him there was no school tomorrow (ok, that look of total "I'm serious, we really don't have school tomorrow" was funny, I'll admit.) I'm just... I don't know. I was going to type "drained" but that doesn't feel right. I just feel uninspired. Maybe I keep coming back to that word because the artist in me really does find bunches of tiny inspirations every day. I get sidetracked by a glass cup full of sparkly junk in my workroom and it makes me happy. Usually. Now I find myself missing it in the moment and wondering later what happened to that minute of my day today?

I guess the bottom line is that I don't feel like myself. I'm not depressed. I'm not falling apart over Liam now being back in therapy once a week for a while. I'm just tired. And missing my old self. And hoping to God that Heather's right and this will pass once my body starts to regulate itself more efficiently.

A month ago I'd have told you I don't like my body, I am unhappy with myself and my fitness and my attitude. Now I just can't wait to get "myself" back.

Cheese, anyone?

*EDITED: For some reason, when I pasted the link the computer had retained a stamping link I had used earlier (that was posted on the Design Board for Amy at RMH) -- Try the link now. You'll know you're in the right place when you see the kid holding his blocks of Christmas cheese (And I had no clue what Heather's comment meant until I read Jodi's and put the two together...)

You have to read this. Especially if you have kids. Or know any kids. It will make you laugh. A lot.

In Response to Raisins

P.S. Make sure to read that kid's Christmas list. I adore the request for cardboard boxes ("for hiding places.")

P.S.S. I know that you know this is a shameless way of adding a blog entry without really blogging. But let's just ignore that, shall we? It's been a hard week.

Greatest Hits Volume 1.

This cold is kicking my butt. Sean has been up each of the last two nights for random conversation and snuggle time. I'm exhausted. My house looks like Christmas threw a wild party and then split when it heard the cops were on the way. Liam is back at school (he's not very happy about that, I might add) and our master bathroom hasn't been cleaned in at least two weeks. So what can I write that will make it seem like I'm making an effort, yet will require as little effort as possible? I'll do what the great recording legends do... a Greatest Hits collection! Brilliant!

I figure this is probably a decent idea as I've had this blog for over two years now, our family has gone through a lot of changes in that time and what better way to bring any newcomers up to speed than to post links to some of posts that kind of explain who I am and who we are and why we seem to be in a state of semi-chaos a good deal of the time (or I could just give you the short answer to that last one: we have two little boys. Any other questions?)

I wasn't sure how to go about dividing these "Greatest Hits" (oh yes... "dividing"... indicating this will take up more than one post.)

(Again: Brilliant!)

I would say the posts in this blog come under one of a number of headings: Our family in general, the boys specifically, Liam's issues, home renovations, my issues with church and "Christianity" and trying to work through that, and general stupidity. A few of those topics are kind of heavy. So let's start with general stupidity and the boys as they are the most fun, easiest to read, and won't drive you away wondering how you'll ever recover those lost minutes of your life spent reading my stressed out rambling.

So without further ado? The Art Chick Blog Greatest Hits, Vol. I: Nonsense - The Boys' and Just in General

(arranged from oldest to most recent)

Chapter One: Fun with Parenting
Why I Don't Have Dogs

Funny Boy

Because Things Aren't Fun Enough Around Here

Another Day

Mug Shot

Summer

Conversations with Sean - Age 3

Quote of the Week

Twinsies

Chapter Two: Basically Kind of Silly
This House Hates Us

Dictionary Time

My Musical Tastes

Sorry Excuse for a Post

Shame - It Can Be A Good Thing*

*The "Shame" posts needs to be noted that I am not dogging on the 80's. I'm totally dogging on watching Red Dawn (for the first time, as an adult, out of context chronologically and politically.)

Prayer for Deedie and Ramsey - Christmas Day

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Please pray that God would keep Deedie, Ramsey, Aschen and all of those involved with the adoption process safe. That He would protect the other children and caregivers in the orphanage and that others won't be afraid to continue with their adoption plans now that primarily Christian Ethiopia has gone to war with mostly Islamic run Somalia (by all accounts the fighting is taking place in Somalia and Ethiopia is safe.)

Even knowing that the fighting isn't happening in Ethiopia itself, I'll be so relieved to hear Deedie and Ramsey and Baby Aschen are back safely on U.S. soil.

Running playlist.

Three times this week someone asked what I listen to when I run (plus I told one other person who didn't really ask but I told them anyway.) Here's a partial list:

(Warm Up)
Killing Me Softly - Fugees

La Tortura - Shakira & Alejandro Sanz
Pon de Replay - Rihanna
Bitch - Meredith Brooks (seriously, if you're shaking your head and tsk-tsk'ing right now? The lyrics to this song are perfect. One of my favorite songs.)
Alison's Starting to Happen - The Lemonheads
Nearly Lost You - Screaming Trees
Bring Me to Life - Evanessence
Faint - Linkin Park
Sabatage - Beastie Boys
Girlfriend - Matthew Sweet
Be My Yoko Ono - Barenaked Ladies
Ain't No Other Man - Christina Aguilera
Authority Song - John Cougar Mellencamp
Stupid Girls - Pink
All I Really Want - Alanis Morissette
Beverly Hills - Weezer
Hey Jealousy - Gin Blossoms
Your Love - The Outfield
The King of Bedside Manor - Barenaked Ladies
I Want You to Want Me - Letters to Cleo
The Boys of Summer - Don Henley
The Distance - Cake
Desire - U2
All Right Now - Free
Mama Said Knock You Out - L.L. Cool J
And She Was - Talking Heads
You Spin Me Round - Dead or Alive
Just Like Heaven - The Cure
Hit Me Up - Gia Farrell
Life Less Ordinary - Carbon Leaf
Why Can't I? - Liz Phair (Yes, not "real" Liz Phair tunage, I know, but still runable.)
Gone - Switchfoot
Are You Gonna Be My Girl - Jet
Wonderful Night - Fatboy Slim
Tainted Love - Soft Cell
What I Got - Sublime


Very schizo mix, no? Works for me. Obviously I don't get through the whole list... yet.

Running Challenge Accountability: Friday 12/22 - 3 minute warm up, 35 minutes running

What the farm?!

So all night I've been trying to figure out the anwser to this burning question:

Who sang the 80's rock ballad classic "Total Eclipse of the Heart?"



If you said "Bonnie Tyler" then you are way smarter (or older) than I am.

P.S. After we hard this song on the radio? We heard one with the lyrics "...closer than my peeps you are to me, baby..."

Pure. Musical. Genius.

Girly Health - UPDATE

Hmm. Yesterday? Not a good day. Had my appointment with my primary care doctor. Took in my info from the the girly doc, printed out a week's worth of Weight Watcher's food diary to show what food I've been eating and the running I've been doing (down to the time and speed I've been running) and didn't wax or pluck any of the fun little facial hairs because I figured they're "symptoms" and he'd need to see them. I was actually pretty excited to be getting this taken care of, remember? Yeah, not so much.

First hint that things may go bad? I'm telling the doctor about my blood work in Maryland (which is in the chart in front of him) and about my girly doc appointment Friday. He glances down at the chart and says, "That's odd because I don't see anything about glucose in here." Since the nurse from this very office called me last week to let me know they'd gotten my records and the nurse from my old practice in Maryland called me to see if I'd followed up with my new doctor I figured that was a good reason to go ahead and follow up with my doctor, right? He just seemed... irritated? I think that's a good word to describe it. So I mentioned that yes, that's a little weird considering that was the whole point of the appointment and start telling him about the reason I went to the girly doctor and what's been going on.

First I mention the acne and weird little facial hairs. He didn't write anything down, didn't ask if how long this had been going on or if I had any other symptoms. So I also mention the fact that I'd never had a weight problem before and the only other time I'd needed to lose weight (which was after two pregnancies) I followed the program and did it with no problem. I showed him the print outs from Weight Watchers. He didn't look at them. But he did start talking:

Dr.: Your body is like a checking account. You put energy in, in the form of food, just like you'd put money into your account. You take energy out when you exercise, just like making a withdrawal from your account...
Me: What?
Dr: At the end of the month, if you have more energy in your "account" than what you use? You won't lose weight.
Me: Uh, ok, but what about this then? (holding up print outs) And why is my body no responding to the very same thing it did two years ago? And why is this weight more around my middle and torso (probably first time in my life I ever said "torso") instead of around my hips and thighs like any other time I gained a few pounds?
Dr.: See this piece of paper? (holds up paper) This is your checking account statement...
Me: ...the hell?!
DR.: ...at the end of the month, if this shows more in than out? No matter what you say, you won't be losing any weight.
Me: Are you kidding me? ::sniff::

Oh, yes, the crying started. This doctor had no clue as to what I had come in for. He didn't pay any attention to anything I'd said - didn't pay attention to the acne, the hair, the weird weight gain. If I hadn't had everything written down by my girly doc I doubt he'd have done anything at all. I started sniffling. That's the first time I've ever had a doctor talk down to me like I'm a ridiculous child. I know how my body works. I know to eat less and exercise more. If I didn't, I'd have had a weight problem long before this started. He has my records, he can see (if he looked) that my weight is higher than normal for me.

Aside from the weight, this guy has to have some clue that this PCOS issue also means Rusty and I won't be having any more kids unless we want to go through a lot of fun drug interaction. Right now I need to start taking birth control pills to get a regular period again. You have to be ovulating and having a period to get pregnant. But you can't get pregnant while taking birth control pills. So stop the pills... and stop ovulating and you're back to square one. PCOS is one of the most common reasons for infertility. He has to know that. And yet no questions about whether I was ok with this or if we'd been wanting any more kids. Do we want more kids? 99% sure we'd have said "No, thank you." But having that 1% taken away with no say in the matter really cements the deal for you and that's a hard thing to think about - having no choice anymore.

Now, I'd like to pause for a moment. Some of you may be thinking, "Well, doctors can be kind of bad when it comes to personal matters or empathy or whatever." And, you'd be right. Except? I found this guy through the Christian Blue Pages. Yes, against my better judgement. I don't automatically go for "Christian advertising" for this very reason. This doctor's resume is very impressive and his resources are another reason why we chose him (he runs a sports injury clinic as well) so I figured it was a good mix. The first appointment we had he asked if he could pray for us because (he said) it sounded like we'd had a hectic couple of months with the move and Liam's therapy. I was a little surprised but it was kind of nice I guess. He's a nice guy and was great with Sean at his appointment. But when something really personal happens and I could use a little bit of extra understanding? You'd think Mr. Christian Doctor Man would be the first in line seeing as how he really should understand the implications of how this will affect a lot of personal areas of my life. But no. Instead I get the condescending "Your body is a checking account" talk and when he sees my total amazement at his lack of sensitivity he leaves the room, comes back with my lab orders and walks out again (I'm still sniffing and obviously trying to not fall apart.) He does turn around once in the hallway and says, "If you have any questions don't hesistate to call me!" and walks away. So much for all those bible versus plastered on your website and your Christian music playing in the waiting room. Where's all that "Can I pray for you?" crap now?

Maybe I'm just irritable (or hormonal! Surprised he didn't throw in the old "you're just hormonal" angle to really seal the deal and get me going.) But I was insulted. Was I talked down to because I'm chubby? Because he's a Christian man in a position of authority and I'm a woman? Because he's a clueless wonder and had no idea what to say? I don't know and I don't care at this point. If you're going to claim to be a "Christian Doctor" and a "Christian Practice" and advertise it all over the place then follow through and even if you do think I'm just a hormonal whack-job? This is what I mean... use Christianity to suck people in and then once you've got them, treat them like dookie. Has happened at churches we've been to while I was growing up, happened in school all the time and that's why I avoid "Christian professionals" who us Christianity in their advertising. Liam's therapist is a Believer but he doesn't advertise it. And he's amazing. God really does work through him. This doctor I saw yesterday? I know I'm not supposed to be judging and blah blah blah but I'm going to go with my initial feeling that God would have whacked him on the head and asked what the crap he though he was doing talking to someone like that.

And I guess this post kind of reveals my feelings about "Christians." I'm scared of them. I'm scared of anyone who uses their Christianity to gain anything other than their salvation. I love people who are sensitive, sometimes unsure, funny, sympathic, occasionally angry about something, empathetic, and sometimes not very nice and who also happen to be followers of Christ and will openly admit they're imperfect and sorry about that. But I can't stand "Christians" who are "Christian" when it suits them and otherwise have no use for you. Maybe I'm being harsh. But I had a hard day yesterday.

And my "checking account" is a little low this morning because I've yet to make my daily caffeine deposit.

UPDATE - Mystery Smell

Ok, this is weird. The smell is gone. It was gone the next morning after that last post. I hope it's not just messing with me and we'll come down Christmas morning to be b-slapped with the mystery odor again . Can't take stinky-ness (which is probably causing at least a few of you who know Rusty to shake your heads in confusion.)

Speaking of "stinky" and "Rusty?" I went to one of his indoor games this evening. Walked into this very nice complex, opened the door to the smaller fields and oh my heck it smelled like dead feet. What is that? How can a smell fill an entire two-soccer-field sized area? Why would you not pad the walls with Odor Eaters or Febreeze the turf? Sprinkle some baking soda? Light a match for the love all that's good in the world?! Worse part of this story? I knew that smell. Rusty's car smells like that. Like an open Adidas soccer bag full to the brim with sweaty gear. His Civic smells like that, his last car smelled like that and the first car he had when I met him smelled like that (though he cleaned it up well when I first met him so the smell hit me sneak attack after I decided Rusty was kind of cute and had nice legs...Niiiiiiice, soccer player legs....)(Sorry.)

Ok, so point of this post: stinky smell in kitchen gone. Stinky smell at soccer plex conquering multiple playing fields. Rusty has nice legs.

The End.

Girly health.

(I mean, it won't be too graphic, but the "P" word will be thrown around a bit.)

Guess what?! We might know why I'm so chubby lately! No. I'm not pregnant. Actually, I couldn't be even if I wanted to be at the moment. Why? I have a medical condition! Woo hoo! So why am I happy? The chubby part? Remember? Keep up, please.

Ok. So it's no secret, especially to those of you who've known me for a while, that my currant weight and physical shape are not "normal" for me. For the most part, this chubby phase started in Maryland and it's been hard to deal with. When I was pregnant with the boys I gained a lot of weight. After I stopped nursing Sean I decided, "Hey, why not lose the weight?" and started Weight Watchers and was back to my normal size again in six months or so (started in late February of 2003 and was back in a size 8 by September.) It wasn't hard for me to do and I started running in the process and found I really enjoyed it.

Fast forward: 2004. I was gaining weight and not sure why. The running had stopped (the area where we lived wasn't ok for running after dusk) and I wasn't watching my diet as much but the weight I was gaining was way more than what could be explained away by those two factors. My doctor even got into the act and tested my thyroid and it was fine.

I started to get kind of depressed and Rusty and I couldn't understand why my body wasn't responding the way it had just a year earlier when I lost my pregnancy weight. I think I gave up. My weight didn't get any higher, thankfully, but trying to lose any significant amount just wouldn't happen. With the stress of renovating the Bowie house and Liam's testing, I just let my unhappiness fade into the background and stopped dressing and acting the way I would if my weight weren't an issue. I seemed to not want to have any attention from anyone (except Rusty.) This was the beginning of my "I hate my body but hate that it matters so much to me" phase.

So. Fast forward again. Spring 2006. My doctor orders my normal yearly check-up bloodwork for cholesterol, etc. The month before we find out we're moving my doctor's office calls and says my blood sugar is higher than normal but since we were moving, changing insurance, and starting with a new doctor it was decided I would be able to wait and start a plan of attack when we got to Ohio. In the meantime, I go from my normal 28-29 day menstrual cycle to having a psychotic period every few weeks with an extreme in the variation of how heavy or how light. And it never ever made sense. I made my yearly girly doctor appointment and went last Friday. I was dreading having to deal with a period problem and a blood sugar/pre-diabetes problem at the same time. How much crap could I take at one time? (How much crap could I remember at one time?)

I sat in that doctor's office and prayed that God would let this doctor know what was going on. She did. She listened to my symptoms and said, "You're not ovulating. Probably haven't since mid-June or so when this started. Here's the deal. Here's what you should tell your primary care physician. And by the way? The weight gain and high blood sugar? Is all part of this same issue. One neat little package to deal with instead of a 'female issue' with me and a diabetes issue with your other doctor." I? Almost lost it and cried right there. SO relieved. And so very excited to hear that the weight thing is not my fault and I didn't do anything wrong in my approach to trying to lose it.

She then went on to say that the little facial hairs that had popped up over the last few months? And the acne on my jawline? All due to this as well. It had never occurred to me that this was all part of the same thing. Again, so relieved. I have to take all this info to my primary care doctor (who has no clue that I even had a girly doctor visit and just thinks I'm coming in to talk about my high blood sugar, so hopefully he agrees with the gynocologist's diagnosis.) Girly doctor wrote down a list of blood tests she's suggest be done as well as a medication that should help. The medication, if he agrees and decides to prescribe it? Will cause a lot of these symptoms to disappear. Will cause this last month of doing Weight Watchers and running to actually be able to be effective and help me get back in shape. I just hope he sees the same things she does and we can get this figured out.

The diagnosis? Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) Not life threatening. No reason to believe it's anything other than what it is - annoying, but treatable. And I'm so looking forward to getting back to normal. I don't mean to make this sound like it's "nothing" because I know a lot of women who have this have a lot more severe symptoms than I'm displaying and I know from experience that it's hard to deal with mentally as well as physically. It makes me feel ugly. But from my perspective, the diagnosis is a huge blessing because now I know what I'm fighting. And most of you who know me know I'm all about fighting and being beligerent. Bring it. I'm so ready to wear that cute black dress I've had hanging in my closet since I last wore it in 2004.

Bad News.

Dude. We have a mystery smell going on. And it stinks.

I first smelled it earlier today and thought maybe something had been put down the disposer in the sink without turning it on. I turned on the hot water and ran it and cleaned out the sink but the smell is still around. And it's not really near the sink. We smelled it when we came in the garage door from our "Let's go pick up the van! Let's go drop off the van!" joy ride this evening. I smell it now and I'm sitting in the family room. I've checked the trash, the garage, the basement, the bathroom, the laundry...

What the crap fell over and died in here?!

Sickies.

Caution: Talk of sick children. I can't be responsible for your delicate constitutions.

A few weeks ago Sean was sick. He threw up a few times but otherwise seemed like he had a horrible cold - high fever, congested, coughing. The throwing up was from being congested (it's a thing with him. Always has been.) It's only been about a week where he can sleep through the night without coughing himself, or us, awake.

Then last week, Liam got hit with this virus that is just flattening our whole area. Tuesday night Liam came in and woke me up with "I think I'm going to throw up." The throwing up finally stopped Thursday evening. To be followed a few hours later by constant running to the bathroom with diarrea. Liam is old enough to be embarrassed by the fact that it's been so bad that he's had accidents. And it's been three days now. He's on the mend, but we still can't go anywhere. He missed Wednesday, Thursday and Friday at school so I was hoping he'd be going back tomorrow. But seeing as how this virus laughs in the face of Imodium AD? I'm not sure that's happening.

So Liam's been sick. And Rusty and I have been thanking God that the Lysol I'm spraying everywhere and the wipes I'm using all over seem to have held the virus at bay because he and Sean and I have been ok. Until now. Half an hour or so ago? Sean fell apart. Starting the throwing up. I'm officially scared.

When I say this virus has been "flattening" our area? I mean it. You hear people say, "Oh, it's going around." But this is more than that. It's going around and hanging out a while. Our pastor was sick, we were told his kids had it earlier last week, my brother's family got hit and my 2 year old nephew had it so badly that he was down for a week - literally throwing up three or four times an hour the entire week. Poor child looks like a little starving orphan after the week his body's been through!

Why do I bother writing this? Because I'm hoping that if I disappear for a while that it's because the holiday frivolity is so much fun I can't be bothered to write and not because we're down with the virus of 2006.