sick and tired of being sick....and tired

The new year has not been kind to me so far in terms of my health.  Nothing major, but I have had one thing after another go wrong since mid January.

  First, I got an oh-so-lovely sinus infection.   It started on a Wednesday and I made it through my work week but holy cow, I have not been that miserable in a long time.  The pressure alone was enough to drive me crazy and then adding onto that the congestion and then the drainage.....uck.  I went to urgent care but since my snot was clear and not green, they told me it was allergies.  I do not think so!  They gave me Flonase, which did absolutely jack crap for me.  Mucinex is what finally brought me some relief.

Got through that, the whole cold and sinus infection lasted about two weeks.  Then, last Wednesday I went to work with my tummy feeling a little queasy.  Again, I was a trooper and made it through the day but by the end of it, I was freezing cold and felt like I was going to lose it from either end at any time.  Got home, and didn't even make it to the toilet before I puked in the sink.  Last week was rough, Thursday morning Hubs got the same thing, and Thursday night baby boy got it.   We were a family swimming in germs.

Then, this morning, I woke up with a runny nose and cough.  SERIOUSLY?  I'm so tired of being sick.  I need a vacation to somewhere warm where I can nap in the sun and swim in the clear, warm ocean.  However, I don't see that happening anytime soon.  So, until then, I will continue to take my multivitamin and disinfect the house with Lysol.

Playing the "what if" game

Do you ever stop and ask yourself "Is this really my life"?  And then after doing so, get depressed?  I don't allow myself to think What If  very much, but sometimes I do stop and wonder about how different our lives would be if PTSD had never entered the scene.

I'm pretty sure my husband would have stayed in the military.  He was a damn good NCO and I know he would have progressed up the ranks.  He had thoughts about becoming a warrant officer and I know that if he had pursued it, he would have excelled.   Both hubby and I like to travel, so it would have been interesting to move around every three years in the military.  I don't know if we would have lived on post, or maybe bought a house off-post somewhere.  Our kids would have been military brats and I would most likely still be teaching.  Moving every couple years would mean getting a new job for me, and teaching is portable.  Or maybe I would have become a stay-at-home mom.....I would have loved that.

Or, maybe after a couple years, the deployments would have gotten too hard.  Maybe Hubs would gotten out, or maybe retired early.  I try and imagine Hubs going to work every day in a suit and tie.  Part of me giggles out loud, because it has been YEARS since I've seen him in anything dressier than a sports coat and even that is so rare I don't remember the last time he wore one.  I close my eyes and imagine him leaving in the morning, kissing me goodbye and then coming home at the end of the day to dinner on the stove, almost ready and the kids playing quietly.  OK, maybe the kids playing quietly is a bit of a stretch.

Point is, I feel like i'm in mourning for the life we were supposed to have.  Is that bad?  If I start to feel bad for myself, even a little, Hubs tells me to stop feeling sorry for myself.  I get so mad because I am hurting too.  He has PTSD, but it's affected my life also.  I sure did not foresee this as my life.  The constant bickering, the worrying, the feeling of being inept at being able to help your partner.  I so badly want the white picket fence and the happy family life.  Why does it have to be so hard for us?  Is this some kind of test?  I sometimes tell Hubs that I feel like Job from the Bible.

Ok, enough, ENOUGH!  See, if I sit here and pine about my life, I'll get depressed.  I try to remain upbeat and I KNOW that there are so many people worse off than me, so I shouldn't complain.  However, I think sometimes you just have to vent otherwise you'll go crazy.  So that's what this was....a blog post about the "what if's".  But that's not my life, my life does have PTSD in it and we aren't in the military anymore.  My husband is unemployable and I do most of the work around here in child rearing and house keeping and that's just the way it is.

Applying to Grad School

I'm having a bit of a Peter Pan dilemma.  I have really struggled with answering the question "What do I want to be when I grow up?"   It took me what feels like forever in college to choose education as a major.  After I got my degree, it did not take me long to think about returning to school to get an advanced degree.  However, life happened that changed my plans.  I got married, got pregnant pretty much right away, and then moved around with the Army.  I kept telling myself that once we were settled somewhere long term, then I would start school again.

Well, crud.  Here it is 8+ years later and I haven't as much taken ONE class.  Let's be real, going to school is really expensive and I didn't want to drop a load of money, or go into debt for a degree I wasn't 100% sure I wanted to get.  Plus, I have a lot of interests.  Trying to pin one interest down over the others was difficult.  However, I finally decided I'm not getting any younger and I know that I don't want to teach again.  With that, I have to return to school.

I applied to the University of Wisconsin and I'm anxiously awaiting my letters of recommendation to come in.  I'm a little concerned because I've been sending reminder emails and updates and so far none of my 4 people who agreed to write one have submitted a letter yet.  Urgh!  I will keep reminding.  They only have one more week to write it, so COME ON PEOPLE!

I have to admit that I'm really nervous.  I know I would be really really good at the program, but if I don't get into the program, well.....I've put all my eggs in one basket.  If I don't get in, then I'm going to reevaluate and go from there.

Cross your fingers, please that I get in!!!

Resolution

I am not big on resolutions.   Why make half-hearted promises when in actuality, you know you aren't going to follow through?  That's me.  I make some every year, and every year....usually by mid January...I'm like "screw it".

However, this year is different.  I have just one resolution:  Be Happy.

I am going to be happy and not let my stress, worries, or anger at situations affect my children.  I'm going to enjoy motherhood, because it is such a wonderful gift to have children.  No more being too busy or stressed to read night-time stories.   I will spend more time listening and doing things than placating her with toys.   For my son, I will get down on the floor more and play with him!  I will also take way more pictures this year.....because my babies are growing up way too fast!

I will make an honest attempt not to sweat the small stuff.  This is hard for me, because I worry and then it eats at me.  However, I will resolve not to make mountains out of molehills and to breathe before I take action.

I guess this one resolution I made has several parts to it.  However, they are all part of me being HAPPY.

Here's to a great 2013.

#26 Acts

  Like many people across the United States, across the World, I am still reeling from the tragedy in Connecticut.  I,  unfortunately, have seen more than one mass shooting in my time.  The Columbine Shooting occurred in.....was it 1999?  That was the year after I graduated high school and that was horrific.  I also remember the VA Tech shooting.  I was really affected by the shooting in the movie theatre that happened in Colorado this past summer.  Each event hurt.  Human beings have the ability to be so, so cruel.

However, the Sandy Hook tragedy has hit me the hardest.  I think there's several reasons for this:  I work in an education setting so I can picture in my mind how horrible it was for the teachers and kids.  My own daughter is the same age as those sweet children.  It really, really bothers me.  There is so much hate and misery in the world, it's depressing to turn on the news.

A few days ago I was watching TV and trying to just veg on the couch.  I was too lazy to find the remote when Brian William's Rock Center came on.  I've never watched it, but for some reason I did that night.  I saw the piece on Ann Curry and the 26 Acts.  In case you missed it, Ann Curry tweeted shortly after the massacre a tweet about doing 26 Acts of Kindness.  One act for each person killed in the school.  I loved the idea.  Evidently it's spreading all around the country on Twitter.  If you look up #26Acts you'll see people tweeting about it.

I've decided to join in on it.  I want to bring some happiness to people.  If I can make 26 people smile, then that's awesome.  I'm also hoping that those 26 people continue to do random acts of kindness to others.  

Please please PLEASE, comment below if you want to join in on the 26 Acts train.  If we all do 26 Acts....think of all the people we can touch!

  

a man's basement is his castle

Well it wouldn't be Christmas without a few meltdowns, would it?    I'm not talking the kids, either.

Little bit of background:  Our house has a finished basement.  It's not huge by any stretch of the imagination and without the sealed...um....seal that goes over the sump pump pit, the basement occasionally reeks of sewage (we've had it checked out...not toxic and the seal is not in the budget yet). However the finished part was my husband's oasis.  There was just enough room for a large TV, a couch and his amp and guitars.  The other side of the basement was the kid zone filled with toys.

As much as my husband enjoyed being down there, it wasn't just for him.  Slowly our daughter started taking over the basement.  She is very creative and has an art desk.  Her room is a bit small so we put it in the basement.  Well, she is part hoarder I think and the desk turned into one big trash heap full of papers, papers, and more papers mixed in with crayons, markers, empty chip bags, etc etc.   My husband periodically yells at her to go clean up the mess downstairs but her idea of clean and ours vary greatly.

Today, he finally hit his boiling point.  He went down there after telling her to clean and once again, found papers on the floor, toys out, and a new stain on the carpet from nail polish.  He decided that the basement officially is to become a storage room and that's it.  He then proceeded to take down his wall art, pack up his guitars, move the furniture to the center of the room and essentially, close down the basement.

While he was doing this, I was trying to talk to him.  I told him I'd clean it up and why didn't he get all of us down there to clean it up together?  He just kept saying it was storage now.  When I told him that since he didnt want to be down there any more, I'd take it over.  That went over like a lead balloon.  It seemed that since it was ruined for him, then no one would get to enjoy the basement.  Seriously, he can act like such a kid sometimes!  I think that's why he and our daughter sometimes butts heads.  She's like a mini-husband in female form!

I kicked him out of the basement and started vacuuming and cleaning.  I filled a trash bag full of papers and just random crap that had accumulated down there.  While I was doing that, Hubs kept coming downstairs and bitching about the stains on the carpet caused by play dough, spilled Kool-Aid, and nailpolish.  However, when I brought up spills he had done on the carpet, he argued with me that he hadn't caused any stains.  My point was....WHO CARES???  It's a basement.  A little steam cleaning action and the stains will come up.  They aren't that noticeable.

The outcome of all this is my basement is cleaner now but there's still furniture stacked up in the middle of the room.  He came down after I had vacuumed and said he'd put it back together later.  I swear, that man drives me bat shit crazy sometimes.  He makes the smallest little issue into such a huge ordeal.  I guess that is maybe the PTSD kicking in.  He did tell our daughter he was really stressed and he shouldn't be so mad.

Today is done, tomorrow is a new day.  Christmas Eve day.....that should bring it's own set of stressors dealing with family and travel and all that.  But, one day at a time!  Off to bed now for me!

This shit's for the cats

Holy crappage.

About a month ago we brought home our sweet little rescue kitty for the 2nd time.  We brought Whiskers home for the first time back in October but she very soon developed a upper respiratory infection.  The humane society told me it's easier to heal in a home setting, but since it's very contagious and we have another cat, we chose to send her back to the shelter to get better.  She was then put in foster care at an employee's home.  One month later, we got the call that she was all better and right after Thanksgiving, we brought her home to us.

Well, within days after we brought her home, she got the runs.  I figured it was just from new food and thought it would settle down.  It didn't.   Instead it got worse.  I took her in after a week or two and she was tested positive for Giardia.  Evidently, she can have this from the mom.  I was surprised that the humane society hadn't caught it, but looking back, I think she may have gotten it from foster care.  Although it was annoying, we got her on medicine and I thought that that would be that.  Not so fast.  A week later, I woke up and felt pee on my bed.  Then, after getting up and walking out to the kitchen, i stepped in cat shit.  Yuck.

My poor cat was literally leaking out her butt.  Disgusting, I know, and if you're drinking coffee or eating anything while reading this, I apologize.  I quick grabbed her and threw her in the bathroom with the kitten, who had been quarantined at that point.  A vet trip later, and she too is on medicine for Giardia.

I've literally been dealing with poop for over a month now.  The kitten finished her medicine yesterday and she still has loose bowels.  The older cat, I havent' seen a bowel movement from her in awhile.  Then, about a week ago, my toddler developed diarrhea.  I figured it was from teething.  However, it's lasted a freaking week.  THe last straw came this morning.  Our daughter had some GI issues in the toilet she took a shower.  She was getting dressed and it just whooshed out of her.  All over the floor.  Seriously?????

We took both kids to Urgent care and a 90 minute wait led to the diagnosis of......nothing.  We have to bring in stool samples and then they will tell us if they have Giardia.  Sooooo, if we get one turned in tomorrow we won't know til Monday if they have it.  Meanwhile, my husband is ready to shoot the cats because they have infested our home with the poop plague.  I have mixed feelings on this.  I don't want him to hurt the cats, obviously, but I'm about done with these felines.  It's like a never-ending cycle.

I'm so frustrated.  Why is it so hard for us to have something NORMAL?  Thousands of people adopt cats and then adopt a second cat with no issues!  I'm sure hundreds of people have cats that have a parasite and they don't infect their households.  DAMMIT!

We have established we are not a dog household.  Maybe we aren't a cat household either.

Fish anyone?   Pet rock???