As Sexy Does

Kick

2007-02-24T11:37:00.000-08:00

I don't even know what to do with this space anymore... ha ha. I can't seem to give up blogging altogether, but at the same time, I can't seem to find my groove in the blogosphere anymore.

But John e-mailed me yesterday and wanted to make sure I hadn't died. So no, I'm not dead. Not even close.

I'm still NOT smoking. I still (mostly) don't want to. I also quit taking the Chantix. I felt ready to give it a go in the real world.

It's been exactly one year since I started Nutrisystem. It's run its course as well. I'm really pleased with the results, but I'm really tired of their food. I've learned what I needed to learn. I made eating right a lifestyle, not a temporary change.

All in all, the year between my 37th and 38th birthday produced some wonderful results. I broke two really really nasty habits. And that makes me very very happy.

And yes, I am still kicking... oh am I kicking!

Minor Update

2007-01-24T06:11:00.000-08:00

I did it! I made it an entire week without smoking... and I haven't gained any weight. I've actually continued to lose the weight I gained over the holidays in fact. I can't even remember why I wanted to smoke in the first place.

My only fear is becoming an ex-smoker. I don't want to be one of the people who lectures others about the dangers of smoking... that coughs obnoxiously around smokers... I want to be as considerate a non-smoker as I (hope) I was a smoker. But Saturday night at the Pirate Party I actually had to turn my head when a smoker was talking to me. I think that experience more than anything else convinced me to never light up again. Did my mouth smell like ash? The horror!

I don't have much news to share outside of that. Life is just breezing along splendidly. Not that I'm hoping for a tragedy mind you -- I just don't have anything else to write about at the moment. So how about I share two pirate pictures and let you be on your way now?

No, I don't look pleased at all, do I? Told you it was too short and too tight.

Later taters,
R~

Quick Update -- More Later

2007-01-21T20:10:00.000-08:00

Just wanted to say I'm doing fine. I made it through the weekend without smoking. I made it through the detox period without caving. And so far, I haven't gained any weight.

I'll write more as time allows, but I didn't want anyone to fear I'd given in to the temptations.

And, I wanted to say thank you to Heather because she absolutely made my day... and she knows why. And for the record, Heather, I'm proud of you too.

The Day After

2007-01-18T17:30:00.000-08:00

Soooooooooooooooooo...

I made it through the first day in one piece. Really! I didn't even have a binge attack.

Today was actually a bit harder.

So I'm not going to think about it anymore tonight. Baby steps.

IN OTHER NEWS:

American Idol fans, check out this blog:

This guy actually found the myspace pages for a bunch of the contestants from the last two nights!

And finally, a moment of Zen.

The First Day

2007-01-17T16:14:00.000-08:00

This is the point in the evening where I would normally rub my full tummy and light my first of many evening smokes.

But I haven't smoked at all today.

It's the first day. It's quitting day.

And if I'm a good girl and go straight to bed after American Idol, I only have 3 hours left until my first day is over.

Some parts have been easier than I thought. Some have been harder.

Driving without smoking is almost unbearable. Sitting here in front of the computer without smoking is worse.

But getting through the day without one has been kind of easy.

I made a point of ruining the last of the cigarettes in my pack last night before bed. This way caving will involve me getting off my ass and driving to the store.

Not.going.to.happen. Once I'm home, I'm home. Light my house on fire, and I'll still sit on my tired ass until the flames lick my heels.

The only fear I have at this point is whether or not I will substitute food for smoking. My original plan was to lose all my weight (I have about 20 to 25 pounds left to lose), keep it off for six months, and THEN start the quitting process.

I still have no idea why I bumped it up. Must be the universe pushing me into alignment.

At any rate, the first day is almost over. I can't say I "miss" the cigarettes, but I do miss smoking.

In other news:

I'm going to pirate party on Saturday. My costume arrived in the mail today. It's too fucking short, and too fucking tight. I'm sure The Husband will tell me it's perfect.

And now for your moment of Zen.

Reporting, Day 5

2007-01-14T20:36:00.000-08:00

It's been five full days since I started taking Chantix for my smoking cessation venture. This morning I woke up, sat down at the computer with a cup of coffee, and had absolutely NO desire to light a cigarette. My morning smoke, Kids, my morning smoke of all things! I was tempted to go ahead and ask The Husband to stash my remaining cigarettes, but since I'm big on rules (take the pills for seven full days before you stop smoking, and don't stop smoking until that day) I went ahead and decided to see how long I would care to go without a smoke.

I lit up at 3:30, but only because we were at the resort and some dumb rednecks beside me were chain smoking. (I knew I should have joined a "spa" as opposed to a "resort".)

In other news, we've had a lovely first two days of a three-day weekend. The kids kind of did their own thing, so we took advantage and did our own thing as well. Saturday we left early to go lounge by the pool at a quaint little place an hour away, and stayed for the night life. We were supposed to be home all day today, but since no kids were around, we threw our stuff in a bag and headed back to our happy place for the afternoon. So as I sit here typing, I'm completely at peace. I've had plenty of sun, plenty of conversation, and more than my fair share of vodka tonics.

I've also had lots of time to think, but not a lot of time to think some things through. So maybe I'll write more on that another day. I'm shedding another layer in order to be reborn yet again. This should be interesting... or I'd like to think so.

And now for your moment of Zen.

What's Up, Pussy Cat?

2007-01-10T16:37:00.000-08:00

So I took my first Chantix this morning, and I've decided that I'm a victim of psychosomatic symptoms. Within TEN minutes (count 'em, ten) I turned to my friend and co-worker and said, "It's working! I feel dizzy." She looked me dead in the eye and said, "Ditsy? Yeah, but you're always like that."

Later that morning we went out for our smoke break. I was lighting my second when a wave of nausea hit me. "It's working!" I proclaimed. "Get over yourself" she answered back. (This is, by the way, why I love her. Busting my balls is the quickest way to my heart. Ask The Husband.)

I sat down to eat lunch a few hours after that and everything tasted different somehow. I smiled smugly, recalling that is also one of the side effects.

It's working. My highly-susceptible-to-suggestion-psyche is responding to the pill. Note I said pill. I only took one.

In other news:

My friend and co-worker turned 30 today. She wanted to get together for drinks after work, so I decided it would be okay to join her for one... just one... before I drove home. Now tell me this; why the fuck don't they tell you it's happy hour before pouring two shots of Stoli in your drink? What could possibly be the logic of waiting until after you've sucked the entire thing through a straw?
Let me answer that; over-priced appetizer sales goal. Fuckers.

And now for your moment of Zen. It's not a pipe cleaner, but it will do in a pinch.

I Quit

2007-01-09T19:25:00.000-08:00

No, not the blog. I did that, remember? I ran hiding from the "masses" and sought refuge here among friends.

I quit smoking.
My last cigarette will take place on January 17th.

I picked up my prescription for Chantix today, and I start taking it tomorrow after breakfast. Side effect? Oh, you'll love this.

"In studies, the most common side effects for people who took CHANTIX were nausea, changes in dreaming, constipation, gas and/or vomiting."

Doesn't paint a pretty picture, does it? Gassy, pukey, stopped up dreamer, that's me.

In other news, some good friends of mine sent me some pics from my recent vacation. Who's a hottie? Hmmmm? NO, not me, the one to my left. Sheesh.

What I Did Over Christmus Break

2007-01-04T04:37:00.000-08:00

Dear Sister Francis,

We had a wunderful Christmas Break. There were lots of presunts and we had a pretty tree. After Christmus wuz over we got in a big plane and flew to Jamaica for New Years Eve. It was real fun! The plane went up really high over the clouds and everything! This is me at the airport getting ready to fly!

When we landed I was real surprized to see mountains! We took a taxi to the other side of the eyeland and got there just in time for the big toga party!

There are poor people in Jamaica. This poor lady didn't have enough money to buy all of her toga. I felt real bad for her.

We got to stay up past our bedtime too, which was really cool! The next morning I took some other pictures of stuff but it isn't very cool so I will not show you those but I have them if you want to see them. We went to the pool and stayed there all day. I wuznt allowed to take my camera to the pool because of this sign that said "no photos" but I think that was unfair because nobody seemed to mind if other people saw them with their clothes off and stuff like that. But it's okay I guess because there was a bar at the pool and they put stuff in my grapefruit juice that kind of made me feel real silly, so I bet my pictures wouldn't have been very good anyways.

After a long day of hanging out with some new friends, we went to another party. They said it was a fetush ball or sumthing like that, but I didn't do very good on your vocabulary test so I didn't know what that word was. Since it started with an "f" I figured it was another word for fancy, but I forgot to pack my party dress, so's I had to wear my school uniform. But I took a picture for you.

Father O'FeelYa was there at the party so I was a real good girl and I behaved and stuff, but I don't think he noticed on a count a he was training a new alter boy.

The altar boy was my special friend on a counta he said I wuz real pretty and other stuff like that, but I made lots of new friends on my vacation.

Sister Mary "The Whip" O'Malley said we wuzn't supposed to kiss our friends and went to tell Father, but he was buzy so's she gave us ten lashes, made us say four Hail Marys and ten Oh Gods.

Then she followed me for the rest of the night, even when I went to the zoo.

Which was okay because there wuzn't any animals in the cages anyhow, which was sad but oh well.

Theres lots of uther pictures that I can't show you becuz I don't want anymore Hail Marys. The lashes were okay, but the Hail Marys were hard. 'Cept I don't think I should get in anymore trouble on a count a I gots a picture of Father that pretty much means I can do anything I want to from now on and don't have to have no punushmint.

Anyhow, we got to take a helicopter home, so I'll end my homework assignment with a picture of me living like a rock star.

And that wuz my Christmas Break. The End.

After

2006-12-27T08:42:00.000-08:00

We managed to carve out a nice Christmas after all. The kids got their Christmas spoils on the 24th because they flew to their dad's on Christmas Day. Smiles are the best thanks yous in the world.

After putting them on the plane the next day, The Husband, The Mother and I drove to Ft. Lauderdale so I could see our new condo (our Christmas present to each other). We close in about four weeks, and I'm so excited I could die right there on the gorgeous hardwood and spanish tile floors.

We had dinner at some trendy little beach restaurant where our entrees were unpronounceable and the dessert came in a box you could eat. And we did.

The day after Christmas we went furniture shopping for the condo (the stuff in the photo is all from the model), and had lunch at this funky little dive called Le Tub, where you will get the biggest cheeseburgers known to man... if you just wait about an hour for them.

I took The Mother home last night, and she went on and on about what a fabulous time she had. Hmmm... could have fooled me, but some people show appreciation in strange ways.

I'm gearing up for our NYE trip to Jamaica. There's tons to do today, which is why I'm blogging instead of knocking off items on the list. Later today The Husband and I will make one last trip to Kinks in Ybor for last minute "outfits" and "supplies". Tomorrow morning we head for the airport. Tomorrow afternoon I'll be drinking rum out of a 32 oz. mug and burning my naughty bits at Hedo.

Happy New Year, y'all!

So THIS is Christmas?

2006-12-24T19:44:00.000-08:00

So about a week ago my mom guilted me into driving two hours to get her so she wouldn't have to spend Christmas alone. Why would she be spending it alone? If you've been reading awhile, or have know me for awhile, you'll remember that she chose to have herself BAKER ACTED, rather than move in the retirement village near my home. Two years later she bought a house down the street from my sister who lives two hours from me.

So anyhow, my sister, she got the hell out of Dodge for the holidays, leaving my mother alone.

So I drove over and got her yesterday so that she could spend the holidays with us. I fixed up a room for her, my husband went shopping for her so that the house would be stocked with food that she would eat, and I even granted my teens the night off with friends so that I could properly entertain my mother.

All she has done from the moment I picked her up yesterday is bitch.

Bitch.

Bitch.

Bitch.

And I swear to all that is true, she has not let up for a single moment. It's passive-aggressive bitching too, which makes it so much harder to deal with.

I have run myself into the ground trying to entertain her because when she sits, she's gets bored. But when we run, she gets tired, or frazzled, or hungry, or thirsty, etc...

And we have her for two more days.

God help me, if this is Christmas then next year I'm celebrating Ramadan.

On the UP side, it did make me think of my dearest not nearest friends who I KNOW would appreciate spending the day with me, because they love me unconditionally.

To you guys -- have a very very merry, crazy-mother-free Christmas.

I get to dump her back off at her house on Wednesday, but we're leaving Thursday for Jamaica, Mon. So I'm going to wish you an incredibly awesome New Year as well.

See you in '07... and believe me when I say...

Wish YOU were here.

Robin

p.s. Tim, miss you and Suz a bunch.

I Am Mean When I Am Drunk

2006-12-20T20:26:00.000-08:00

That is all ;)

Alive, Not Kicking

2006-12-18T17:57:00.000-08:00

Hi.

I'm pulling the covers back for a few minutes so's you'll know I'm alive.

But I'm not kicking the covers off because it's warm in here.

And quiet.

And still.

I finished my semester and the diploma is in the mail. I got the highest grade in the class. I would like to take a bow, but I won't because there was a far more talented tyke in my class that quite frankly got robbed of the highest grade by some strange and cruel twist of fate (actually, it's his inability to consistently handle the focus feature on his camera.)

Then I sat back and exhaled, and tried to figure out where to go next. I thought I had it all figured out. I was going into some nursing field... respiratory or radiology, or occupational... I even enrolled in Anat and Phys. Then I found out nursing school requires a full-time commitment. This is when I crashed and went under the covers.

I can't can't can't work full time and go to school full time. I can't quit my job (insurance) and I can't leave my kids alone every night (deliquents).

After much gnashing of teeth, I decided to drop A&P and take Digital Photography I instead. Next fall I'll take A&P, then the following three semesters I'll tackle one each of the other four pre-reqs. That delays the full time committment by two years. If my teens aren't settled in then, I'll go back to the drawing board and figure something else out.

Also, while I was hiding under the covers, I managed to finally hit the magical 50 pound lost mark. I think it was the dry toast and nyquil diet my current health status forced me into.

So's I'm alive, but I'm not kicking off the covers yet. Maybe Christmas morning. Someone has to make the donuts.

Love and peace,
Robin

It's Voting Time!

2006-12-03T10:29:00.000-08:00

Who's a bad blogger? Who, hmmm? That would be ME! Bad Bogger, BAD!

Honestly, if I had a prehensile tail, I would have it tucked between my legs.

But it's Sunday now, and that means there's all kinds of chores to do, so I can finally blog instead. (My poor husband -- I know he didn't bargain for this when he said "I do")

There have been all sorts of things I wanted to shout out this week. But it's like this; the engine runs at full speed during the day, so as a result, I'm out of gas by the time evening rolls around. I suppose I could try sleeping a bit more, or a bit earlier. But that's neither here nor there. So let's just get on with this, shall we?

Okay, I have two exciting bits of news. The first one it pictoral. My final photography assignment was studio portraits. The only thing Mr. Cutie-Professor-Patooty provided was the lighting and backdrop. Concept, model, etc... was up to us. Oh yes, and the prop; the assignment mandated either a cube or a sphere as the main prop. The model? No-brainer -- The Step-daughter. She has always proved to be ready, willing and extremely able to pull off a great shot under any conditions. She is so beautiful, and so unassuming, and so much a natural in front of my lens.
So we shot last Thursday, and it was incredible. I had several, "I hate you" and a few "Bitch" thrown at me (by my classmates) as I shot. The Step-Daughter really is THAT good. Prof said I kicked ass on this assignment. I deflected by telling him that my model kicked ass -- I just hit the shutter release.
Then he told me to chose ONE photo, have it printed, and bring it in next week for our final critique. ONE PHOTO?
So it's voting time again, dear ones.

http://www.flickr.com/gp/68458455@N00/Ls0CKU

If you click on the link, Flickr should take you to the set. I tried to upload them, but you know how Blogger is. Sigh. So click on the link, then click on Detailed View. They're numbered one thru six.

I really don't know~ I love them all, but I only get ONE!

The other news... wow... this post is long enough. Next time.

Kiss Me, It's Beginning to Snow

2006-11-27T21:11:00.000-08:00

That has nothing to do with this post. I'm just listening to the soundtrack for Rent. I love that line.

But we saw NO snow! Total bullshit, right? Right! I hear it snowed in f-ing ORLANDO on Wednesday, but I spent four days up north and barely saw frost. Grrr. Oh, sorry Binsk... I really wanted to meet up with you, but we were barely in the Great White North -- barely.

We spent Thursday traveling to Buffalo and Saturday returning home. In between -- the Aunts.

Have I mentioned how much I love my husband's family? I really do. I didn't get to grow up in an Italian home. I missed out on all the Italian traditions... the food, the conversation, the guilt. "Eat. Eat. Where were you? Why haven't you called? You saw my sister first and not me? You didn't see me the last time you were here? Eat something. What, you don't like olives? Eat some more cheesecake."

I love those ladies.

But no snow. None.

I took some photos, but most of the good ones are on film (real film, for sure!) I'll post some when I get them scanned (most likely over the next few days). But here's me, The Husband, The Step-daughter, and one of The Aunts at Buffalo Chophouse.

She didn't like the steak. Too salty. "Why would they salt a steak? Ronny says this restaurant is for rich people. Don't order dessert. I have cheesecake at the house."

Oh, and I totally scored a 65 year old mink stole in mint condition. The Aunt likes me ;)

Gone to the Great White North

2006-11-21T18:45:00.000-08:00

We're leaving in the morning for Buffalo, New York. Photos and stories to follow!

Have a great Thanksgiving! I'll be back on Monday the 27th (or Tuesday the 28th, depending on how frazzled I am from the flight and such)

It's Not Something, But It's Not Nothing Either

2006-11-17T13:37:00.000-08:00

That's pretty much the end result of a very long doctor's appointment yesterday. I endured three mamograms, each one more squishy and painful than the first. After an eternity in the waiting room, I was treated to some KY jelly and a boob ultrasound. The young nurse told me that she would take the video to the doctors, and either she would return, the doctor would return, or a counselor would return. So I stared at the door for a million hours, and almost came out of my skin when the very young nurse came back through the door.

She said the mamogram showed "something" in my boob... something that was different than the tissue surrounding it. The ultrasound however, was clean. "So it's nothing?" I asked her? "No, it's something, just not something threatening or dangerous. Come back in six months for another mamogram and ultrasound so we can see if it changes."

Yeah -- I know, she could have said cancer... or sent in the "counselor". So it could have been worse, right? I guess it would be nice to know that the something that isn't something is really just nothing at all. Stupid doctors and their stupid protocol.

In other news...

The Daughter and The Son board a plane for Indiana tomorrow. The Husband scored us tickets to Vodka Fest in Tampa tomorrow night. There will NOT be a repeat of Wine Fest. I will not be vomitting in the front lawn. I will, at the very worst, be vomitting in the parking lot of the hotel we've booked... just in case neither of us should be on the road after sampling "100 kinds of vodka."

Sunday I go see The Madre. More on that later... most definitely. My relationship with my family is fodder for a millenium's worth of blogging.

Finally -- I am sitting at 146.8 lbs -- 4/10 of a pound away from having lost the BIG 5-0! I'm sure Vodka Fest is not going to help me achieve that any time soon... unless I vomit in the parking lot again... but if I do, I'll wake up craving steak and chocolate again too... so yeah, it might be a few more weeks before I can do my 50 lb happy dance and get my celebratory tattoo!

Have a great weekend. I promise to write a lot more next week while The Children are freezing their collective arses off in Hoosier-ville.

Countdown

2006-11-15T19:18:00.001-08:00

Tomorrow is Booby Doctor Day. Wish me luck.

The Captain

2006-11-11T08:26:00.000-08:00

It's been a few days since they told me my boobs were dense (here's where I wish that I were a guy, and the docs told me my dick was dense, then I could say, "So you're saying I'm thick headed?") As the days pass from announcement to verdict, I'm finding a bit of my old self returning, but as that happens, I find strange places in me that I never knew I had before.

Case in point -- I had a dream that I was on a cruise ship, returning from a brief tour of the world. As the ship is cruising to port, I find myself with up front with the captain. He looks at his stop watch and there are only 13 seconds left. So he stops the watch -- stops time -- so we can finish the cruise and still arrive at our destined time.

The Husband says it's a dream about facing my mortality. He says I'm afraid of growing old, afraid I won't get to see and do everything I want to... afraid to accept the fact that there's only one cruise, and when it's over, it's over. I say it's a dream about facing the fact that time may be running out... will in fact run out sooner or later, regardless of my boob... understanding that the captain is the only one with the power to stop the countdown so I can finish my cruise.

My kids toy around with not believing in God. I've always told them that it's okay to say, "I don't believe what you believe" because faith is personal -- it's not something someone can TELL you that you believe. If you believe because Mom and Dad say so, then it's not faith, it's rule. So deny what you've been taught so that you can find it for yourself -- believe it because you feel it, know it, live it. But lately I've been asking them to curb their questioning and just let me have my peace with the captain.

In other news:

We went to an art show last night. It was ... bizarre. I'm beginning to think that if I buy a paint brush, throw up on a canvas, then paint over the pattern of vomit, I too can be an artist. The Daughter says I have no appreciation for abstract art.

The Husband just called and said that he has found the solution to my photography project -- it awaits me. So I have to go load up Diana and Holga and head out on an adventure now.

Have a pleasant Saturday, friends, and I'll touch base with you later on.

Most Awkward Moment Ever

2006-11-09T19:08:00.000-08:00

It's no secret, even to The Husband, that I have a terrific crush on my photography professor. So it is with great fear and trepidation that I must ask him the following question next Thursday night:

"Did you find my pants after class last week?" or "Did I leave my pants behind after we were through last week?"

It's innocent, I swear. I wore just the cutest outfit to work tonight, but we were supposed to be developing film. So I ran into an outlet and bought a pair of jogging pants and a t-shirt, and changed in the bathroom on campus so the chemicals wouldn't ruin my new knickers.

When I unpacked my bag tonight, I discovered the pants were missing. Deductive reasoning insists they fell out of my bag before I left the classroom.

Still... asking that question... well, I'll just say it's a damned good thing I have a damned good man who finds this as funny as I do.

One Down, One to Go

2006-11-08T18:35:00.000-08:00

It's been a long day, so I'll make this quick because I'm really really tired.

Long story short, The Husband is fine. He had a CAT scan done that showed some cysts in his kidneys, but nothing alarming or abnormal. They also ran a camera up his peen to look at his bladder, but that looked good too.

Other than walking kind of funny, he's fine, and he'll be fine for a long, long time.

Me? We'll find out soon enough, I suppose.

By the way... good job yesterday, voters. You made me proud.

Does it Come in Threes? Does it?

2006-11-07T17:20:00.000-08:00

Got a phone call at work today. That's unusual because we switch desks monthly, so usually I get calls on my cell phone during the work day.

But this one came to the office phone.

I thought only two places had that number: The Daughter's school, and The Son's school.

"Oh boy," I said before picking up the phone, "this can't be good news."

I was right.

"This is Janice from the mobile screening unit regarding your mammogram last month. We're going to need to schedule you for some more testing. Can you come in next Thursday morning?"

I asked what the problem was, and she transferred me to the nurse at my doctor's office.

"Honey, don't panic. They found some areas of density. Now, it could be nothing, but we suggest you don't put these tests off. How soon can you come in?"

I told her as soon as they could see me.

"We'll put you on the list for cancellation fillers. If no one cancels, we'll see you first thing next Thursday morning. It's just further testing, you know, to rule anything out."

Yeah -- I know. To rule "anything" out. Except "anything" could be anything. It's the something that scares me the most.

So tomorrow we get through The Husband's tests and get the results, then I get to sit another week to find out if my boob is behaving the way a nice boobie should.

Tourette's -- The Longer Version

2006-11-06T18:41:00.000-08:00

I was kind of tired last night when I made my post. In looking over the comments, I think I did a disservice to the history of The Daugther and Tourette's. Let me back up and try to make a long story as short as possible.

When The Daughter was nearing her fifth birthday I began to take notice of some jerky movements, specifically a quick side to side twitch, sort of like you do when you shake your bangs out of your eyes. I remember my first thought was that her twitch was involuntary and reminded me of the Tourette's Syndrome people I saw on the morning talk shows. So like any good mother in denial, I took her to get her hair cut -- a short bob with short bangs. Of course this didn't help, but I played ignorant out of fear.

One Sunday evening while I was sitting in church, the nursery worker pulled me aside and shared with me her concerns. During her lesson she noticed The Daughter rolling her eyes from side to side, or back into her head in sharp, rapid, jerking motions. Having a daughter with a seizure disorder, she was fearful that my daughter may be suffering from something more severe than "twitches."

I left church and rushed straight to the emergency room. They ran a CAT on her and scheduled a follow up with a neurologist. After ruling out any abnormal brain activity he said, "Put her on Haldol, she has Tourette's Syndrome." I remember my first thought here too. I thought that if something could fix her, I'd do it.

While we waited for her follow up with the pediatrician (who would write the prescription) I did some research on my own. I found out that Haldol was a relatively new treatment for Tourette's. I also discovered through my research that the side affects of Haldol are permanent. Regardless of how long Haldol is taken, and how long it is not taken, a loss of tongue control is quite common and cannot be regained. If she displayed tongue dysplasia (akin to the tongue wagging outside the mouth), it would never go away. I told the pediatrician I would not put her on that medication while her symptoms were mild. He agreed that a follow up with the doctors at the childrens' hospital was in order.

They did an exam, agreed that Haldol would be a terrible thing to put her on at that stage, and sent a two page letter back to the pediatrician. I quoted some of that letter to you in yesterday's post. "Tourette's Probable."

But they also said it might NOT be Tourette's. They said she might grow out of it, or it might kick into full gear when she entered puberty.

So we watched, and we waited. We prayed a lot, had lots of people pray for her, and we played around with her diet, specifically we omitted red dye (a common food additive) from our home. In six months her symptoms went away. It was nothing short of a miracle, and I'll never credit anyone or anything with her improvement outside of God Himself.

Things went fine for almost ten years. Two summers ago her dad called and said he noticed she was "tic-ing" again, this time making harsh jaw movements like you might do if your jaw was locked and you were trying to loosen it. I fell back on the red dye and asked him to stop buying her Code Red Mountain Dew. She came home a few weeks later and was still displaying the new tic, but not as much as before. Removing caffeine seemed to calm her, and I chalked it up to "nervous energy." Still, "Tourette's Probable" remained in the back of my mind. Eventually the tic went away again.

It's been two years since I've seen anything that looked remotely like a tic. It wasn't until I found the third doctor's letter and read "...demanding/aggressive personality" that I remembered all the symptoms, not just the tics.

Does she have it? One in ten does. But for a diagnosis to be made, she must display three tics, one of which must be vocal, over the course of five years. We don't have that, and believe me when I tell you that she's well into the "onset" of puberty. But a demanding/aggressive personality, that she has in spades. OCD tendencies? Possibly.

So we continue to watch, we continue to wait. In the meantime, we try to make concessions for what might be a symptom of something that Mommy couldn't get the hair stylist to fix ten years ago.

The Closet

2006-11-05T22:10:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry Prada.
I never meant to hurt you.

I never meant to make you cry,

But tonight, I'm cleaning out my closet.

Remember how I said my desk was WAY messy? Well, I today I did something about it.

I cleaned out my closet.

Now, hear me out. If I'm cleaning out my closet (which is in my bedroom) then I am NOT looking at my desk (which is in the office off the garage). Ipso facto, I have done something about it.

I can't believe the years' worth of crap that has fallen into the bottom of my closet. I enlisted The Husband and got him to go through his half (okay, make that eighth) of our shared closet. As of tonight, it's totally organized and full of clothes that we'll actually wear. The local charity is getting a trunk full of stuff I never knew I didn't need.

Sorry Prada... I never meant to buy you and then lose too much weight to wear you. But in my defense, I bought you at a designer consignment shop and didn't pay all that much for you anyhow. Plus, you're used to being discarded. Imagine the smiles on the faces of the clerks if they realize what you're worth. Imagine the glow on the face of someone who actually picks you up for 4.95! It's not that I don't love or appreciate you... it's just that I never intend to be that size again.

I also found loads of papers that I had to spend time perusing. I found the earliest of love notes between The Husband and I. So sweet and new it was! I found school papers from the kids' elementary days. I found medical records from The Daughter's time at the childrens' hospital. "Diagnosis: Possibly Tourette's Syndrome.... may present in puberty or may continue to display periodic tics... have discussed symptoms with mother, including...OCD... demanding/aggressive personality..." I had completely forgotten that time in our lives, me and The Daughter. Maybe I didn't want to remember. But it's pretty undeniable that while she isn't displaying tics right now, she may be dealing with other symptoms of the disorder. Remind me to cut her a break the next time I want to break her neck.

Random Nature of Weekends

2006-11-04T19:51:00.000-08:00

It beats sleeping -- this blogging thing.

I hate going to bed on the weekends. It feels like I'm cheating myself out of something that might happen in the middle of the night.

Which is stupid, considering that most of what happens in the middle of the night on weekends is my kids staying up and breaking things. And I'd really rather miss that.

Yesterday was a bad day. Fridays are supposed to be lovely. Mine sucked. The Husband went for a follow-up doc appointment and they scheduled an CAT scan to find out why he has trace elements of blood in his urine. This is not a happy thing to face.

So I dropped about 200 miles inward and stayed there. I'm a bit better now, but not really. I keep asking him if he's feeling okay. He is, of course. Healthy as a horse that one. But I can't shake the image of him dropping to the ground with no one around to help him.

I took The Daughter out today. Being grounded, it's important to get her out of the house so she does not fall into despair. We went to the spa this morning, then went to see Our Town at her high school, and then went rummaging through a consignment shop. I bought a crocheted poncho. She laughed at me and said it looks like something a fat woman would wear after a Richard Simmons workout.

The Step-daughter is staying with us again this weekend. Her madre flew out of town for a hook-up.... sorry, "date." The Step-daughter said, "I might come back next weekend too." That would be four weekends in a row, which would be lovely. "I like having internet on the weekends," she finished. Teenagers suck.

The Son is glued to his Playstation. This is the life of a boy in a house full of girls.

There are exactly seven wine glasses on my computer desk, two coffee cups, one styrofoam coffee cup, six water tumblers, two water blottles, two empty yogurt containers, and four spoons. I hate cleaning.

There are three songs that I cannot listen to.
Mack the Knife -- it just scares me.
The Girl from Ipanema -- it's just stupid.
My Way -- I had a bad experience.

And that is just about enough randomness for tonight. Anything to keep my mind of The Husband's upcoming tests.

Why I'm Still Awake With Nothing to Say

2006-11-02T20:10:00.001-08:00

I'm waiting for him to come home.

Nothing else to say about that.

He's been gone all week.

He's gone a lot.

Look at my eyes. I know they're closed, but look at them anyhow.

No one else in the entire world has ever made me feel like that.

And the way he holds my face... no one else in the entire world has ever held my entire being captive by placing a palm to the side of my face.

He quiets me.
He soothes me.
He ties the frayed edges of my sanity together to keep me whole.

It sucks when the half of you that is the best part of you is gone for the better part of your week.

I hear the garage door.

Kissing, commence.

Hurdles and Huddles

2006-11-01T13:11:00.001-08:00

When I scrapped the old blog I also mentioned WWIII in my home. That battle had to do with a... shall we say... relapse in the faulty judgement related skills of The Daughter, this time where school was concerned. After her first nine week report came out, The Daughter decided it was time to exercise her right to skip classes... A LOT. After several weeks of missing 7th period, her teacher called and alerted me to the problem. Once I got all the information from the teacher, I called the dean of discipline and the guidance counselor and found out that she'd been skipping several classes, and was rarely turning in her homework. THIS from a kid who is the top one percentile of the nation in standardized testing!

I took care of matters on the homefront immediately. She is severely restricted from any social activities, including Internet and phone priveledges. With her freedoms squashed, I set about trying to help her put together a plan to get her shit together before the final grading period.

The good: The Daughter admitted to me a week later that she was relieved to have finally gotten caught. She had skipped so much that she was scared to go back to class. When she was busted and the jig was up, she had no choice but to fall in line. I was relieved to hear that from her.

The bad: Her grades definitely suffered. Though she wasn't failing any classes, she got two "Ds" on her report card (this from a consistently straight A student)

So today I had my appointment with all of her teachers and her guidance counselor. More good: Since being busted, she's really stepped it up. She's participating in lectures, answering questiongs, and doing remarkable work. More good: They all adore her. They described her as bright, electric, creative, a natural leader, a drama queen, random, charismatic, capable, delightful. The bad: They all agree that she is not working to her potential, and she's far too interested in socializing. The good: The damage can be undone. All her teachers are willing to give her at least partial credit on the assignments that she didn't turn in, and all are willing to work with me on a daily basis to make sure that she doesn't slip one centimeter unnoticed.

Two of her teachers stayed for an extra 30 minutes to tell me stories about The Daughter. And I have to say that these two teachers really get her. They see what I see, good and bad, and they have an abundance of faith in her while still seeing the dangers that might be just around the corner if she continues this path. It's sort of like having two more parents to help me help her.

As I said, I realize that parenting is a day by day job. There are no hurdles that are jumped once and for all. You jump each hurdle, catch your breath, and then gear up to jump the next. In between the hurdles you will laugh a lot. Then you will cry after the next jump. And I think it stays this way until that child decides for herself how she will channel her energy towards success.

Parenting is just running, jumping, and resting. Maybe seeing that will make life a little bit easier in the end.

Knock, Knock, Knocking on 50's Door

2006-10-31T12:15:00.000-08:00

This is me ten years ago. I believe I was hedging over the 200s, if not looking back over the hedge in disbelief.

This is me three and a half years ago after finally figuring out that food does not equal happiness, and that maybe if you find happiness, you forget to eat sometimes.

This is me eight months ago after forgetting everything I thought I knew about food and happiness and health.

And though I don't have anything recent, as in taken today, this is me about two months ago in Key West. (Give me a break... I'm usually BEHIND the camera)

Today I am about 12 pounds lighter, and I'm knocking on a total of 50 lbs lost since February of '06.

So what have I learned this time that will break the yo-yo string?

Probably nothing.
Because habits aren't really things that are learned as much as they are things that are practiced.

But I have "learned" that meat is not my friend... except the ham plant. The ham plant is my friend. So is the occassional steakshroom. I've learned that when I abstain from meat, I don't miss it at all.

I've "learned" that broccoli is sold in ready-to-steam bags at Publix, and that when I steam the bag in the microwave and cover it with an ounce of 2% cheese and I Can't Believe it's Not Butter, it can actually take the place of an entire meal. It also gives me wicked gas, which keeps the demanders (kids) at bay for a few hours.

I've "learned" that I cannot live without cheese, nor do I have to. I just can't eat a pound of it a day.

I've "learned" that bran is my friend.

I've "learned" that organic food tastes better, and it's way more expensive.

I've "learned" that I still hate going to the gym or excercising in general. However, I love to run. I'm not good at it yet, but I've increased the amount of time I can run from 1.5 minutes to ten minutes. I've learned that when I run, the world goes by so fast I don't have time to contemplate anything but the burn and the sting. And I like that.

I've "learned" that there is no place on earth where you can get away from chocolate or lasagna. The way to defeat them is to eat them... just not all of them. American restaurant servings are big enough for four people.

So those are some things, some habits, that I've slowly integrated into my daily living. I'm still doing Nutrisystem, not religiously, but for breakfast and lunch for sure. Some nights my dinner is a salad, or a MorningStar burger with some veggies. Some nights it's not. And as it stands, I'm only 15 pounds from my goal weight.

And I'm only two months from my vacation in Jamaica.
And I've learned that clothing optional resorts are GREAT weight loss motivators.

So if you'll excuse me now, I have to grab my iPod and run with Saving Jane.

This is so much better

2006-10-30T21:43:00.000-08:00

I will talk when the mood strikes me, and I will stay silent when the mood is not-so-enticing.

And since I get to take tomorrow off of work, I will talk tonight. And maybe tomorrow. Twice.

I noticed that the "elite" (ha) are camera bugs. Did you notice? Binsk, Kami, Heather, Greekchickie, Shephard, John, Tim (though he doesn't bloggy 'bout it). Even Scotty takes out his camera now and again and snaps off a pictoral of his life and times. Snap snap snap and the heart goes pitter pat. You know what I mean, right?

And some of you are getting accolades, and some of you are starting businesses, and some of you are winning contests!

Me? I finished one assignment last week (no grade yet, but I posted the portrait work on the old blog) and now I'm wallowing in another assignment from hell. But I shall not be overwhelmed. Okay, I lie. I am overwhelmed. But I'll pull through and be oh-so-proud of me.

So tomorrow I'm taking my girlfriends out for a day of shooting. Me, Diana, and Holga are going to go find shadows and reflections, and we're going to make them tell a story.

We will, by God. We will.

The Never Can Say Goodbye Girl

2006-10-30T16:59:00.000-08:00

In the next few days I hope some of you will be leaving me housewarming comments.

As I have tried to explain in the few e-mails I've sent out, I had to close up shop over at the other place. Yes, I loved the template, yes I loved the readers, no I did NOT love the comments. Not one bit. Each comment meant I had to reciprocate. It's the way I was raised. Damn you, Mommy.

And fact of the matter is, there are only a small handful of people that I realized I don't want to exclude from my on-line life.

And I'm suck at e-mailing, even worse than commenting.

So over here I can select who visits me each night for dessert, and who I can hide from in the back room of the house with the lights out.

Thank you for finding a way to worm into my heart in a way that is seemingly important to me. As the days went on, I couldn't stand the thought of NOT sharing my days with you guys.

I promise I'll be as real as I can be. Now that I'm finally free from the shackles of social niceties, I think I'll be able to get back to why I started blogging in the first place.

So, welcome home.