I am coming up on just about 8 months without a full night's sleep and a year and some change of my body being completely whacked out and not my own.
first it was the pea sized pregnant bladder and the cold as ice toilet seat...now its the waking up, feeding diapering and strangling of one incredibly stubborn infant several times a night.
I'm coming apart at the seams in every possible meaning (literal or colloquial).
this aint working.
my brain is fried. I'm trying to study for an examination in a few weeks and can't get beyond the first sentence in every paragraph. gonna take a cruise on the fail ship on this one, I'm sure.
my body is toast. sooooooo weak. so so so so weak. no likey. I'm used to being able to compensate for, uhhh...'not so great' technique with brute strength. when you weigh 120 and can do 20 pull-ups with 20 pounds on your back...usually a little thing like shitty footwork doesn't throw you off too much. not these days. I don't have the heart to even attempt a pull-up, let along a sketchy over-hung climb.
it hurts. it hurts bad.
now my daily walks are starting to kick my ass. how can a lazy stroll around the hood pushing a carriage at a pregnant woman's pace (my neighbor and walking partner is 7 months) totally obliterate me? I'm starting to avoid the tiny lil "hill" up the avenue back to my house. going around 4 blocks so I don't get winded and/or collapse?
weak sauce.
yesterday I nearly hit the deck at the grocery store (why's it always the grocery store???). I forgot to eat every 23 minutes and realized while pushing the cart that it was the only thing holding me up. I was shaking, had trouble focusing my eyes and realized after about 25 minutes that I was walking up and down each aisle going, "nope. can't eat that. can't eat this. can't eat that, either. nope....can't...nope. you're killing mommy. mommy's gonna die. can't eat...sleep...nope, nope..."
at that point it finally clicked. no. you CAN'T eat that...so pay for what you've got in your basket and get your nearly hallucinating ass home to have some rice and turkey...bitch.
the problem I'm having with all this...is that I can't push through. it doesn't work. when I get to the push point and give myself a shove...I've got nothing (NOTHING) in the tanks. it's "unnerving" (aka really pisses me off) that my physical and mental states are so far beyond my control that I can't knuckle down and make something happen.
14 months of draining the reserves.
I'm beat. I need sleep. I need more foods. I need a glass of milk and an english muffin with peanut butter.
nursing is seriously fucking me up. i'm over it. emotionally, physically, psychologically...OVER IT. unfortunately the prof is not, and since I'm not in the business of creating intentional psychological scars for innocent and unsuspecting babies...I'm gonna have to suck it up (or let him suck me dry) just a little while longer. (at least I tell myself its only a little while...but in reality...it'll feel like an eternity)
HOWEVER I am taking a hardline with him on the one thing I can. I KNOW he's capable of sleeping 8 hour stretches...so the next time (probably tonight) that he decides to wake up every hour and a half...
I'm not having it.
I've got one word for him:
Ferberize...bitch.
(ok. that's two...but bitch isn't particularly substantive, and was really just an afterthought. I don't usually call the boy bitch...although...I often think it.)
Friday, April 17, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
the gravity game
there was a time in my life when the term "gravity game" could have meant any number of things OTHER than "fetch, mommy, fetch!"
perhaps a 40 foot upside down, bash your shoulders against the rocks whipper? maybe a "discussion" with the ground just beyond an overly large log? perhaps even a reference to the difficulty with which one stays upright after one too many cosmos?
but these days, it definitely means that the Prof is figuring out physics...and his mother.
just for fun, I'm gonna wait until he's got this whole dropping thing thoroughly figured out...then tie a helium balloon to his ankle.
take that, brand new baby brain!
in other news, the holidays were mostly hilarious. my mother dredged up a lifetime of resentment and drama for which I was undeniably thankful. hearing my mother refer to her own mother as a self-serving, selfish, self-centered whore loving bitch who hates her own grandchildren and is now trying to steal my mothers...worked wonders for breaking up the monotony of oqui's mother's three day visit.
I kinda like the woman, but she WAS in my house, WAS breathing my air, WAS taking up my space and most definitely WAS blow drying her hair at 8 o'clock saturday morning. having ample reason to take a little solo walk to talk to my own crazy ass mother was refreshing.
this isn't a suprise, though. crazy usually is funny.
as usual, holidays or any other social eating is really annoying to me. I got to watch people actually put gravy on gramma's turkey from the crypt, while I had to choke (literally) it down dry. butter on the potatoes? no.
cake, cookies, rice krispie treats, danish, corn, milk, the delicious, fabulous wonder (cause I made it) fruit dip? no. no. no. no. no.
the food thing is starting to be a major point of contention in this house. I really don't know how much longer I can keep eating like this. I'm weak, tired and indescribably grumpy whenever I smell something yummy.
the prof is thriving, though. rashes gone. weight gaining. strong as an ox.
before I know it, he'll be dousing his own turkey in gravy and enjoying the fruit dip.
perhaps a 40 foot upside down, bash your shoulders against the rocks whipper? maybe a "discussion" with the ground just beyond an overly large log? perhaps even a reference to the difficulty with which one stays upright after one too many cosmos?
but these days, it definitely means that the Prof is figuring out physics...and his mother.
just for fun, I'm gonna wait until he's got this whole dropping thing thoroughly figured out...then tie a helium balloon to his ankle.
take that, brand new baby brain!
in other news, the holidays were mostly hilarious. my mother dredged up a lifetime of resentment and drama for which I was undeniably thankful. hearing my mother refer to her own mother as a self-serving, selfish, self-centered whore loving bitch who hates her own grandchildren and is now trying to steal my mothers...worked wonders for breaking up the monotony of oqui's mother's three day visit.
I kinda like the woman, but she WAS in my house, WAS breathing my air, WAS taking up my space and most definitely WAS blow drying her hair at 8 o'clock saturday morning. having ample reason to take a little solo walk to talk to my own crazy ass mother was refreshing.
this isn't a suprise, though. crazy usually is funny.
as usual, holidays or any other social eating is really annoying to me. I got to watch people actually put gravy on gramma's turkey from the crypt, while I had to choke (literally) it down dry. butter on the potatoes? no.
cake, cookies, rice krispie treats, danish, corn, milk, the delicious, fabulous wonder (cause I made it) fruit dip? no. no. no. no. no.
the food thing is starting to be a major point of contention in this house. I really don't know how much longer I can keep eating like this. I'm weak, tired and indescribably grumpy whenever I smell something yummy.
the prof is thriving, though. rashes gone. weight gaining. strong as an ox.
before I know it, he'll be dousing his own turkey in gravy and enjoying the fruit dip.
Monday, April 6, 2009
the lighter side of tired
so, yeah...I'm still tired.
but, at least I'm happy (as long as the lights are on and there's no boogeymen, vampires, werewolves, or other night critters meandering about in my brain).
the sunshine is an amazing thing (I'm tired). It's like the prof and I have emerged from our psuedo-hibernation, are venturing outta the cave and playing with butterflies for the first time.
it's fun...but I'm tired.
today is rainy, and I'm actually thankful for that...if it were sunny, I'd be compelled to take one of our two hour afternoon walks, go climbing tonight and just dig myself deeper into an energy deficit. the fact that its soggy gives me ample excuse to stay in my night shirt (minus the ghost voices, creepy feeling and general scared shitlessness of the actual night).
the sun has melted a few pounds off of me and I can almost see the return of some muscle going on...
perhaps that's why I'm so tired? (nope. I'm going with boogeymen on that one)
maybe I'll take a little nap, sweep the cobwebs outta the corners (highly unlikely, that involves moving about in a controlled fashion), burn a candle or two and throw some sea salt on the thresholds so I can SLEEP without vicious nightmares.
I like my brain. I'd like to leave it intact for a few more years or so. besides, last time I got too scared to go pee in the middle of the night I sold the house only 6 months after buying it.
since the market isn't exactly such that this bitch can be sold...I'm gonna have to find a way to put a lid on the creepies.
out of curiousity...am I making any sense?
nope?
figures...I'm really tired.
but, at least I'm happy (as long as the lights are on and there's no boogeymen, vampires, werewolves, or other night critters meandering about in my brain).
the sunshine is an amazing thing (I'm tired). It's like the prof and I have emerged from our psuedo-hibernation, are venturing outta the cave and playing with butterflies for the first time.
it's fun...but I'm tired.
today is rainy, and I'm actually thankful for that...if it were sunny, I'd be compelled to take one of our two hour afternoon walks, go climbing tonight and just dig myself deeper into an energy deficit. the fact that its soggy gives me ample excuse to stay in my night shirt (minus the ghost voices, creepy feeling and general scared shitlessness of the actual night).
the sun has melted a few pounds off of me and I can almost see the return of some muscle going on...
perhaps that's why I'm so tired? (nope. I'm going with boogeymen on that one)
maybe I'll take a little nap, sweep the cobwebs outta the corners (highly unlikely, that involves moving about in a controlled fashion), burn a candle or two and throw some sea salt on the thresholds so I can SLEEP without vicious nightmares.
I like my brain. I'd like to leave it intact for a few more years or so. besides, last time I got too scared to go pee in the middle of the night I sold the house only 6 months after buying it.
since the market isn't exactly such that this bitch can be sold...I'm gonna have to find a way to put a lid on the creepies.
out of curiousity...am I making any sense?
nope?
figures...I'm really tired.
dear diary,
today I'm tired. yesterday I was tired. tomorrow, I'll most likely be tired.
it's only partially the prof's fault. he does the waking up part, but I'm just incapable of the falling back asleep bit. I'm given this some thought...kinda. the brain is in energy conservation mode...and have come to the conclusion that I'm just too tired to sleep.
every night my dreams get scarier and scarier...and I'm now afraid to leave the bedroom alone in the middle of the night. 31 and a half with night terrors. this is gonna get bad.
I foresee a psychotic breakdown in the near future...
lets hope its a happy one.
Teh (tired) Suki
it's only partially the prof's fault. he does the waking up part, but I'm just incapable of the falling back asleep bit. I'm given this some thought...kinda. the brain is in energy conservation mode...and have come to the conclusion that I'm just too tired to sleep.
every night my dreams get scarier and scarier...and I'm now afraid to leave the bedroom alone in the middle of the night. 31 and a half with night terrors. this is gonna get bad.
I foresee a psychotic breakdown in the near future...
lets hope its a happy one.
Teh (tired) Suki
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
more good news...
psych.
I'm in an abysmal mood.
the prof lost half a pound in the last 5 days (babies are NOT supposed to lose weight btw), he's covered in two separate rashes and we're no closer to resolving his "feeding issues."
in fact, we've just created issues between us in regards to it.
awesome.
I don't know a damn thing about money or taxes other than we missed the boat on assuming this mortgage without paying a shitload of settlement fees by a mere 4 months.
again...awesome.
I still can't eat ice cream, it rained today, my daughter has a pot smoking boyfriend and my boobs hurt.
I'm ready to pack my shit and hit the bricks. let someone else dig out of this god awful mess...
momma needs a tan.
I'm in an abysmal mood.
the prof lost half a pound in the last 5 days (babies are NOT supposed to lose weight btw), he's covered in two separate rashes and we're no closer to resolving his "feeding issues."
in fact, we've just created issues between us in regards to it.
awesome.
I don't know a damn thing about money or taxes other than we missed the boat on assuming this mortgage without paying a shitload of settlement fees by a mere 4 months.
again...awesome.
I still can't eat ice cream, it rained today, my daughter has a pot smoking boyfriend and my boobs hurt.
I'm ready to pack my shit and hit the bricks. let someone else dig out of this god awful mess...
momma needs a tan.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
flip me over. I'm done on this side.
10pm last night: ready for bed. realized the grocery getter needs to be dropped off for (overdue) inspection. awesome.
10:10: look for the monkey to see if she can babysit the prof while we go. find her passed out on the couch. dead asleep.
10:12: get dressed. pack up the prof. not HATING my life, but certainly not LOVING it, either.
10:30: back from dropping off the car. monkey still asleep on couch. me: you need to go downstairs now. her: mmmmfffapahf me: come on. time to go to bed. her: I KNOOOOOW! (with a teenage attitude)
10:30: me: if you don't get your narrow ass off of this couch and down to bed I'm going to rip your face off and eat it in front of your friends! don't you DARE give me an attitude, girlfriend. I'll end you.
10:31: the monkey goes downstairs. I go upstairs to feed the prof and put him to bed.
10:32: my nipples are in excruciating pain. I hate the world and I'm seriously considering joining Al Queda so I can kill shit.
10:45: hear the monkey's music BLARING through three stories of house. proceed to go down there and threaten her life. find music source 6 inches from her head and her...still fast asleep. I hate her just a little.
10:50: sit on couch to relax before bed. eat bowl of rice cereal with rice milk. I hate rice.
11:00ish: Oqui is ready for bed. we go up. he's asleep before I finish peeing.
11:30: still trying to sleep. awesome.
11:50ish: fall asleep.
2:45am: prof wakes up. go in to feed him. remember that I'm in excruciating pain. make mental note to join the irish republican army, too.
3:30ish: back in bed. trying to fall asleep.
4:00: sleeping...until oqui starts yelling in his sleep. add to mental list that joining an ground combat unit of the american armed forces seems like a splendid idea.
4:30: oqui yelling in sleep
5:00: oqui yelling in sleep
5:14, 5:27, 5:32: oqui yelling in sleep
5:45: prof wakes up again. I hate my life.
6:15: done feeding the prof (nipples on fire), ready for sleep. prof reminds me (with an audible fart) that he has yet to figure out the whole toilet thing.
6:20: done changing the prof. REALLY ready for sleep. prof decides he'd rather hold conversation with his toes. great.
6:50: still playing with his toes.
6:57: I've had enough of this shit. unceremoniously plop the prof in the crib and decide its daddy's turn.
6:58: tell daddy its his turn. get attitude.
7:00: fuck it. I'm going back to sleep, let them figure it out for themselves.
7:03: oqui's alarm goes off for the 15th time in the last hour. I'm so beyond angry at this point, I decide it best to feign sleep lest I land myself in the slam for manslaughter.
7:20: oqui returns from his shower to start opening and slamming drawers and closets, banging the iron and ironing board around and just generally not giving a fuck that I've been up for almost two hours.
7:21-7:58: I seethe and fume.
8:00ish: I fall asleep, again.
8:45: phone rings.
8:46: phone beeps for voicemail.
9:14: phone rings again. I answer with every intent of ascertaining the caller's location so that when I wake up...I can go and kill them.
9:15: find out the grocery getter needs tires. me: didn't I get them last year? him: I dunno. me: whatever, just put the fucking things on.
9:15 and 40 seconds: hang up on him.
9:20: still not back to sleep. send oqui text. car needs tires. $550. ready tomorrow.
9:21: phone rings. oqui: bitch, bitch, bitch. moan. seethe. roar. me: I'm sleeping. oqui: check the file for tire receipts! I'm not buying more tires! blah, blah, blah. me: I'm still sleeping. oqui: bitch, bitch, bitch.
9:23: get out of bed (extremely angrified) to check file. no receipt OF COURSE because its in the fucking car.
9:25: baby wakes up from me digging in the files.
9:30: text to oqui. the exact wording escapes me, but it definitely conveyed the fact that I pretty much hate his ever loving guts, despise my life and want, very badly, to murder something...oh yeah...and that the receipt wasn't in the file.
10:44: exhausted...with those floaty thingies on the periphery of my vision. hungry...still hating rice. still in excruciating, mind numbing pain. seriously considering packing a couple of pairs of clean undies and some contact solution and disappearing for a few days...or as long as it takes to get a little sleep...
and possibly some fucking respect for what I'm doing around here.
how long, exactly, does "never gonna happen" take?
10:10: look for the monkey to see if she can babysit the prof while we go. find her passed out on the couch. dead asleep.
10:12: get dressed. pack up the prof. not HATING my life, but certainly not LOVING it, either.
10:30: back from dropping off the car. monkey still asleep on couch. me: you need to go downstairs now. her: mmmmfffapahf me: come on. time to go to bed. her: I KNOOOOOW! (with a teenage attitude)
10:30: me: if you don't get your narrow ass off of this couch and down to bed I'm going to rip your face off and eat it in front of your friends! don't you DARE give me an attitude, girlfriend. I'll end you.
10:31: the monkey goes downstairs. I go upstairs to feed the prof and put him to bed.
10:32: my nipples are in excruciating pain. I hate the world and I'm seriously considering joining Al Queda so I can kill shit.
10:45: hear the monkey's music BLARING through three stories of house. proceed to go down there and threaten her life. find music source 6 inches from her head and her...still fast asleep. I hate her just a little.
10:50: sit on couch to relax before bed. eat bowl of rice cereal with rice milk. I hate rice.
11:00ish: Oqui is ready for bed. we go up. he's asleep before I finish peeing.
11:30: still trying to sleep. awesome.
11:50ish: fall asleep.
2:45am: prof wakes up. go in to feed him. remember that I'm in excruciating pain. make mental note to join the irish republican army, too.
3:30ish: back in bed. trying to fall asleep.
4:00: sleeping...until oqui starts yelling in his sleep. add to mental list that joining an ground combat unit of the american armed forces seems like a splendid idea.
4:30: oqui yelling in sleep
5:00: oqui yelling in sleep
5:14, 5:27, 5:32: oqui yelling in sleep
5:45: prof wakes up again. I hate my life.
6:15: done feeding the prof (nipples on fire), ready for sleep. prof reminds me (with an audible fart) that he has yet to figure out the whole toilet thing.
6:20: done changing the prof. REALLY ready for sleep. prof decides he'd rather hold conversation with his toes. great.
6:50: still playing with his toes.
6:57: I've had enough of this shit. unceremoniously plop the prof in the crib and decide its daddy's turn.
6:58: tell daddy its his turn. get attitude.
7:00: fuck it. I'm going back to sleep, let them figure it out for themselves.
7:03: oqui's alarm goes off for the 15th time in the last hour. I'm so beyond angry at this point, I decide it best to feign sleep lest I land myself in the slam for manslaughter.
7:20: oqui returns from his shower to start opening and slamming drawers and closets, banging the iron and ironing board around and just generally not giving a fuck that I've been up for almost two hours.
7:21-7:58: I seethe and fume.
8:00ish: I fall asleep, again.
8:45: phone rings.
8:46: phone beeps for voicemail.
9:14: phone rings again. I answer with every intent of ascertaining the caller's location so that when I wake up...I can go and kill them.
9:15: find out the grocery getter needs tires. me: didn't I get them last year? him: I dunno. me: whatever, just put the fucking things on.
9:15 and 40 seconds: hang up on him.
9:20: still not back to sleep. send oqui text. car needs tires. $550. ready tomorrow.
9:21: phone rings. oqui: bitch, bitch, bitch. moan. seethe. roar. me: I'm sleeping. oqui: check the file for tire receipts! I'm not buying more tires! blah, blah, blah. me: I'm still sleeping. oqui: bitch, bitch, bitch.
9:23: get out of bed (extremely angrified) to check file. no receipt OF COURSE because its in the fucking car.
9:25: baby wakes up from me digging in the files.
9:30: text to oqui. the exact wording escapes me, but it definitely conveyed the fact that I pretty much hate his ever loving guts, despise my life and want, very badly, to murder something...oh yeah...and that the receipt wasn't in the file.
10:44: exhausted...with those floaty thingies on the periphery of my vision. hungry...still hating rice. still in excruciating, mind numbing pain. seriously considering packing a couple of pairs of clean undies and some contact solution and disappearing for a few days...or as long as it takes to get a little sleep...
and possibly some fucking respect for what I'm doing around here.
how long, exactly, does "never gonna happen" take?
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
no modest mouse for a suki
the child...is seriously in love with the tata.
no bottles. no cups. no straws. no break.
oqui and the monday night old schoolers (including another Sukey, so I guess my title should've been "no modest mouse for THIS suki) are going to see modest mouse on saturday...and I can't go.
not that I want to go, I actually despise the music, but I'd like to be ABLE to go...
but unless the venue has a "mother's room" for pumping and we suddenly find a lactating babysitter...I'm shit outta luck.
in other news:
I'm currently on the fit diet. actually...that's the f-it diet.
fuck it.
I'm eating anything I want (as long as it doesn't contain gluten, dairy, nuts, soy or berries)...and seeing what shakes out.
so far, not too bad. we've had a few green poos and a bit of crying, but the Prof has also slept 8 hours straight the last two nights.
did I mention that I also lost 5 pounds? I hit the new mother lotto. I'm a bajillionaire.
apparently, all it took was a few (previously suspect) vegetables in my diet.
who'da thunk it?
vegetables make you healthy...and don't actually kill you (or your baby) instantly.
*le gasp*
no bottles. no cups. no straws. no break.
oqui and the monday night old schoolers (including another Sukey, so I guess my title should've been "no modest mouse for THIS suki) are going to see modest mouse on saturday...and I can't go.
not that I want to go, I actually despise the music, but I'd like to be ABLE to go...
but unless the venue has a "mother's room" for pumping and we suddenly find a lactating babysitter...I'm shit outta luck.
in other news:
I'm currently on the fit diet. actually...that's the f-it diet.
fuck it.
I'm eating anything I want (as long as it doesn't contain gluten, dairy, nuts, soy or berries)...and seeing what shakes out.
so far, not too bad. we've had a few green poos and a bit of crying, but the Prof has also slept 8 hours straight the last two nights.
did I mention that I also lost 5 pounds? I hit the new mother lotto. I'm a bajillionaire.
apparently, all it took was a few (previously suspect) vegetables in my diet.
who'da thunk it?
vegetables make you healthy...and don't actually kill you (or your baby) instantly.
*le gasp*
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
giving this alot of thought
I can't seem to figure out what is actually making the Prof sick.
my list of inedibles is ridiculously long, even for this with ridiculously long lists of inedibles.
OBVIOUSLY I'm doing something wrong.
the concept is simple; eliminate all things from your diet that make the baby sick...
then, add things back in one at a time, figuring out what is tolerable and what isn't.
I've been going for two months...or more. who can tell time in turkey and rice?...and have only been able to successfully reintroduce a few things. so many variables.
this is hard.
It took me alot of time to figure out my vitamins, now we're figuring out his meds, and all of a sudden there's a skin rash that makes me think my dogs need a one way ticket to get-the-fuck-out-of-heres-ville.
I do think I might be onto something with gluten, though. alot of our prior failed experiments may've "failed" because of me being an idiot about gluten...apparently, its in EVERYTHING. now I know...kinda, and I'll try those, again.
I also found today that some babies (despite the pediatrician's most sincere assurance to the contrary) have reactions to their vitamins. breastfed babies are supposed to have a supplement for those vitamins that don't pass through the milk. what's a suki supposed to do about that???
so all in all I'm completely flabbergasted, still want ice cream and ate some canned corn to see what happens.
wish us luck.
my list of inedibles is ridiculously long, even for this with ridiculously long lists of inedibles.
OBVIOUSLY I'm doing something wrong.
the concept is simple; eliminate all things from your diet that make the baby sick...
then, add things back in one at a time, figuring out what is tolerable and what isn't.
I've been going for two months...or more. who can tell time in turkey and rice?...and have only been able to successfully reintroduce a few things. so many variables.
this is hard.
It took me alot of time to figure out my vitamins, now we're figuring out his meds, and all of a sudden there's a skin rash that makes me think my dogs need a one way ticket to get-the-fuck-out-of-heres-ville.
I do think I might be onto something with gluten, though. alot of our prior failed experiments may've "failed" because of me being an idiot about gluten...apparently, its in EVERYTHING. now I know...kinda, and I'll try those, again.
I also found today that some babies (despite the pediatrician's most sincere assurance to the contrary) have reactions to their vitamins. breastfed babies are supposed to have a supplement for those vitamins that don't pass through the milk. what's a suki supposed to do about that???
so all in all I'm completely flabbergasted, still want ice cream and ate some canned corn to see what happens.
wish us luck.
Monday, March 2, 2009
my momma and the $85 mystery seed
I love my mom. she made me a super-special-stop-starving-and-barfing-on-gross-food-meal on saturday.
she spent thursday and friday researching and shopping and all day saturday cooking.
I felt human again...all on seven ingredients.
the menu included:
-organic gluten free roasted whole turkey (can you say leftovers?)
-mashed sweet potatoes with olive oil and sea salt
-baked apples and pears
and the piece de resistance...super yummy rice pudding.
it was like christmas (during which I couldn't eat any yummies), new years (during which I couldn't drink), valentine's day (no chocolate for me) and christmas again (what does a suki want? the gift of food) all rolled, baked, wrapped and stirred into one.
I think I gained five pounds and I don't give a surly rat's ass.
I just finished up my left-over turkey and will be done with the rice pudding in....(counting) three and a half bites.
how good to have a belly full on something that doesn't taste like horse piss.
amen, mother....
amen.
she spent thursday and friday researching and shopping and all day saturday cooking.
I felt human again...all on seven ingredients.
the menu included:
-organic gluten free roasted whole turkey (can you say leftovers?)
-mashed sweet potatoes with olive oil and sea salt
-baked apples and pears
and the piece de resistance...super yummy rice pudding.
it was like christmas (during which I couldn't eat any yummies), new years (during which I couldn't drink), valentine's day (no chocolate for me) and christmas again (what does a suki want? the gift of food) all rolled, baked, wrapped and stirred into one.
I think I gained five pounds and I don't give a surly rat's ass.
I just finished up my left-over turkey and will be done with the rice pudding in....(counting) three and a half bites.
how good to have a belly full on something that doesn't taste like horse piss.
amen, mother....
amen.
as for that mystery seed...apparently it snuck its way into our dishwasher's filter, causing Cap'n Ass Crack to come on out and "git 'er done."
$85 later he pulled up his pants (thank god) and produced the offending nougat. we can not for the life of us identify it.
I'm hoping it's of this planet and not some sort of pod thingy...
and that Cap'n 'Crack doesn't have to visit us, again, for a while.
it's rather unnerving when he knows my appliances so well that his first statement upon opening the cabinet is, "oh. I see you got a new garbage disposal."
Thursday, February 26, 2009
fuck. me.
I haven't had a vegetable since sunday. before that it was a month.
I'm weak, tired, miserable and FUCKING HUNGRY.
the kid is not much better off.
we switched his meds, which, besides tasting like horse piss and being majorly traumatic to administer, don't start working for almost two weeks. so that's one possible reason he's sick as shit.
the others include:
-he's incapable of eating or tolerating ANYTHING
-he's sick in a transient fashion. (like his father)
-he's still reacting to my rogue vegetable experiment
-his reflux is peaking
either way. this blows and quite frankly...
I'm feeling rather persecuted.
I'm weak, tired, miserable and FUCKING HUNGRY.
the kid is not much better off.
we switched his meds, which, besides tasting like horse piss and being majorly traumatic to administer, don't start working for almost two weeks. so that's one possible reason he's sick as shit.
the others include:
-he's incapable of eating or tolerating ANYTHING
-he's sick in a transient fashion. (like his father)
-he's still reacting to my rogue vegetable experiment
-his reflux is peaking
either way. this blows and quite frankly...
I'm feeling rather persecuted.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
ok. so, uhm...yeah
just got a call about teaching GED classes at night.
two hours per class, two classes per week. the hourly rate is reasonable...
but, but, but...
can I actually commit to leaving my house, the Prof and more importantly MY PAJAMAS twice a week?
yeah. I can. even though oqui obviously has a very low opinion of the work (you need to write a resume for that? they're GED classes...who cares? etc)...I think its kind of noble.
I'm realistic about the fact that a GED isn't going to get someone their dream job, but if you've been trying and CAN'T pass that test...imagine how important a goal it is for you.
I hope that the classes are small and that I can help each personally individually...
or at least try.
two hours per class, two classes per week. the hourly rate is reasonable...
but, but, but...
can I actually commit to leaving my house, the Prof and more importantly MY PAJAMAS twice a week?
yeah. I can. even though oqui obviously has a very low opinion of the work (you need to write a resume for that? they're GED classes...who cares? etc)...I think its kind of noble.
I'm realistic about the fact that a GED isn't going to get someone their dream job, but if you've been trying and CAN'T pass that test...imagine how important a goal it is for you.
I hope that the classes are small and that I can help each personally individually...
or at least try.
Monday, February 23, 2009
porta-baby
the Prof had a busy weekend (and subsequently...so did we).
we went shopping friday night.
saw the cranial sacral therapist saturday morning.
went to a cocktail party saturday night.
and went to the climbing gym and grocery shopping on sunday.
he did really well until that last bit. there are limits to his patience and tolerance...and it appears that he just isn't going to tolerate a climbing gym.
ha! figures...that's the one place I want to hit most often.
I'm weak and found climbing waaaaaaaaay harder than I remember. harder than I can even imagine remembering. harder than when I first started, even.
I'm chalking it up to nursing hormones, lack o' sleep and an awful diet.
I hereby give myself one whole year to regain my former strength. I initially gave myself 4 months (2 of them recovery and 2 to start whooping ass, again)...but it just aint working out that way.
the Prof says no. I have no choice but to oblige. it's not entirely his fault, though. I'm incapable of focusing on more than one major life "thing" at a time...and since baby comes first, training and "going hard" will have to go later.
I can't focus on pushing the envelope when my boobs are leaking and the baby's whining. when I climbed before, I put my whole entire being into it. I climbed until I ached...and I did it frequently (funny that I was still just average at it any way, huh?). I was happy when it was a lifestyle for me, but I'm not feeling it so much as an afterthought...hence the year.
I figure in a year, he'll be slightly less demanding of my energies and I can finally take a day here and there to go get bloodied up. I used to define my life through climbing. I didn't go to school because it would cut into my climbing time. I wouldn't commit to family functions because if the weather was good I was going to be out of town. I was happy with those trips being my central focus.
I miss it, but its worth the sacrifice (at least at this very moment, while he's napping)...
but I'm not gonna lie...I feel a little empty without pursuing a physical passion (not sex, you fiends). martial arts, skiing, figure skating, climbing, and to a lesser extent, riding have all played major roles in my physical and emotional well-being in the past. not having a life sport is kind of a drag.
I could take some lame ass kickboxing classes or join a faggy gym...but fitness alone isn't what I'm trying to get out of this. I always found "hitting the gym" a poor excuse for "honing my skills." I want to train for the sake of getting better at something, attaining a physical goal...
not just to tighten up my ass and loosen up my jeans.
so, I guess I'll just have to keep eating rice and turkey, being pudgier than I'm comfortable and wait out the winter...and the baby.
I can always get back into those 3's, and more importantly, get my muskles back, later.
...who knows, maybe the lil' booger will LOOOOOVE going to the crags?
we went shopping friday night.
saw the cranial sacral therapist saturday morning.
went to a cocktail party saturday night.
and went to the climbing gym and grocery shopping on sunday.
he did really well until that last bit. there are limits to his patience and tolerance...and it appears that he just isn't going to tolerate a climbing gym.
ha! figures...that's the one place I want to hit most often.
I'm weak and found climbing waaaaaaaaay harder than I remember. harder than I can even imagine remembering. harder than when I first started, even.
I'm chalking it up to nursing hormones, lack o' sleep and an awful diet.
I hereby give myself one whole year to regain my former strength. I initially gave myself 4 months (2 of them recovery and 2 to start whooping ass, again)...but it just aint working out that way.
the Prof says no. I have no choice but to oblige. it's not entirely his fault, though. I'm incapable of focusing on more than one major life "thing" at a time...and since baby comes first, training and "going hard" will have to go later.
I can't focus on pushing the envelope when my boobs are leaking and the baby's whining. when I climbed before, I put my whole entire being into it. I climbed until I ached...and I did it frequently (funny that I was still just average at it any way, huh?). I was happy when it was a lifestyle for me, but I'm not feeling it so much as an afterthought...hence the year.
I figure in a year, he'll be slightly less demanding of my energies and I can finally take a day here and there to go get bloodied up. I used to define my life through climbing. I didn't go to school because it would cut into my climbing time. I wouldn't commit to family functions because if the weather was good I was going to be out of town. I was happy with those trips being my central focus.
I miss it, but its worth the sacrifice (at least at this very moment, while he's napping)...
but I'm not gonna lie...I feel a little empty without pursuing a physical passion (not sex, you fiends). martial arts, skiing, figure skating, climbing, and to a lesser extent, riding have all played major roles in my physical and emotional well-being in the past. not having a life sport is kind of a drag.
I could take some lame ass kickboxing classes or join a faggy gym...but fitness alone isn't what I'm trying to get out of this. I always found "hitting the gym" a poor excuse for "honing my skills." I want to train for the sake of getting better at something, attaining a physical goal...
not just to tighten up my ass and loosen up my jeans.
so, I guess I'll just have to keep eating rice and turkey, being pudgier than I'm comfortable and wait out the winter...and the baby.
I can always get back into those 3's, and more importantly, get my muskles back, later.
...who knows, maybe the lil' booger will LOOOOOVE going to the crags?
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