lajendi

Dailies

Lose my phone - find it.

Make dinner - encourage the kids to clean it up.

Dress and diaper Baby  - undress and diaper Baby (repeat often).

Send kids to school - Kids arrive home from school.

Buy food - Eat food.

Clean clothes - Wear clothes.

Pay bills - Get bills in the mail.

This is some of the stuff that happens every day. It gets tiring and monotonous. At times it feels like I'm just putting one foot in front of the other but not really watching where I'm pointing my feet.

We do have long term goals - The kids all go to college, J. mission. DH and I enjoy retirement. I get a diploma of some sort (Farmer Ted's beauty school?). Pay off the mortgage. Go to London. You know- big stuff. There are the smaller ones too, the next step ahead kind of goals - the kids rewarded for the next higher level of school performance. DH gets a raise or fancy dinner for great work performance. I got something or other when I got an A in adolescent psych (don't remember what it was, it was so great).

But honestly I feel like the days are slipping away from me. The kids are getting older and I feel like the only thing I can say about each day is that I criticized them. I mean... encouraged them to improve in something. Or that I've had another day where I felt cruddy and had a nap, whoo-hoo for me.

I need daily goals, the same ones every day. Simple. Yet focused on accomplishing those things that are most important to me. So that I can say at the end of the day, "I did it!"

I'm thinking along these lines:

-Show each child and DH, individually, that they are loved. Ideas include: looking them in the eyes while they talk to me, hugging them without cause, listening to them without interupting, or saying nothing that day to criticize.

-Do something for school. Anything. Read two pages. Heck, read a page. Your brain pickling is not an excuse to encourage further pickling but not studying. (I'm writing this to myself by the way, don't get offended) This is your goal, don't be a poop! Blogging doesn't count!!

 

-Spiritual peace.

I refuse to put household duties on this list. They are in front of me constantly, nagging and pleading for my attention. While these other, less tangible, but more important things are neglected.

Working out is also not on the list as somehow I've already incorporated that into my hardwiring on an every-other-day basis. I will crash and burn mentally and physically if I am not physically active.

What could I be leaving out... What is on your daily list?

Let's clean up yesterday's puke.

Today we had the planning meeting for my friend's wedding. It went very well, wonderfully well. We were as giddy as school girls, we middle-aged women, planning this wedding. In the end, I feel it will be easy because I don't have to worry about food. They are providing it and someone else will manage it during the reception. All I have to worry about is transportation of it on the day of, I can handle that, especially when it doesn't include the wedding cake. Oh, and this is a reception for only 50 people, totally do-able. (Remind me later that I said that.) 

Tonight at bookgroup we discussed Lovely Bones. It was a great discussion. As usual those ideas I had were greatly enlightened and influenced by the other women in the group. (Caren, they loved hearing your feelings about the book. They thanked me for sharing it.) One woman got very emotional, the story touched her. 

 As we talked I realized the many topics of discussion this book brings up. We talked about women's issues because the mother wanted her own life outside of motherhood but this was the early 70s, was that really possible then? We talked about the author's writing style, did some of us just not like it or was it not very good? We talked about parenting, our fears, our ability to let our children live their own lives.

And of course we talked about death. Which touches on some of what I wrote about yesterday. I thought about writing something that someone shared at bookgroup but I just don't feel comfortable with sharing something personal to another without their permission. It's hard to know what is against my blogging ethics. 

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Now I'm reading The Vagabonds for library bookgroup.

And I have to go find my copy of Eve and the choice made in Eden for church bookgroup.

 

We will be rolling Easter Eggs, sometime. Soon. Really. Maybe we'll take them down to DC with us on Friday and chuck them at the White House. Do you think that would get us a ride in a police car?

I want to take pictures of my daffodils to post but they just won't quite pop open. I think they knew it was going to snow today. The seedings are doing well, they might need to be transplanted soon, before they get so big Baby gets interested in them.

Sometime soon I'll start my Anthropology class and write and IRB proposal for English. Oh, and the kids are on spring break, we're taking that trip to DC Friday, primary activity to do Saturday, and talking in church on Easter. Party Time!

Why is my acupressurist on vacation?

Rollin' Eggs

There were many great things about the church conference I watched over the weekend. The overwhelming thing that it inspired me to share with you? Family stories. Thing is, it must have inspired the same thing in myAunt Edith because she sent me a funny family story today- Easter themed even. She did say something at the end of her email about the bloggers posting about it, I take that as permission.

Enjoy!

"I remember that we would color Easter eggs and then we would go to the sand hill and roll the Easter eggs. However, the Easter eggs would crack and self destruct.  After this happened, usually you were left with rolling yolks down the sand hill.  then it seemed like the kids would all roll down the sand hill.
 
"The last year I remember rolling Easter eggs was the year that our Mom passed away.  I think I was in charge of boiling the eggs.  Apparently the eggs weren't cooked long enough.  We found this out, when we went out in the West desert and attempted to roll Easter eggs down a boulder.  First of all, it wasn't a place that was really appropriate to roll eggs and second of all, the eggs weren't done.  Thus, we had one chance to roll the egg and watch it goop yolk down the face of the boulder or what ever it was we were rolling them on. 
 
"In the years since, when I have attempted to talk to people about rolling easter eggs, they act like I must have invented this activity. 
 
"One of the most distrubing things I have seen done, with hard boiled eggs was in Texas.  Appartently, adding hard boiled eggs to the Thanksiving turkey giblet gravy was considered yummy.  I found it to be disturbing and not tasty.
 
"Maybe we could think of new activities for Easter eggs.  Easter Catapult?  Balancing Easter eggs on the hood of the ATV?, Easter egg obstacle course? Easter egg badmitton? Most artistic Easter egg?"

My cousin Becky had this to add:

"Oh, I definitely have gone Easter Egg Rolling! That is one of my favorite Easter childhood past-times!
Unfortunately my husband thinks it is a waste of a perfectly good egg.
My favorite part was seeing how fast we could get them to go and how far they would go before they would explode! Loads of fun!
For those of you who haven't done it, I definitely recommend it!"

I'm sorry to say, I don't have distinct memories of Easter egg rolling. There are vague memories of every sort of egg desecration we could think up, with our meager child minds. Maybe I lived in areas too flat to enjoy this past time (Nebraska and South Wyoming anyone?) until I was older and "too cool" for it. Now I'm old enough to be just cool enough for it, thankfully. And we have a great hill, right in our backyard!

This evening we prepared our victims for the egg rolling. But the evening's rolling event was postponed due to rain. At the rate it has been raining we may have to send out a dove in search of an olive branch before we can commence the rolling. We'll see if the victims last until the rolling or get made into potato salad before then.

 

 

 

Do you see Eggbert? He's the one with a smile, he just can't wait to get rolling!

One day, the world will stop spinning.

So in the midst of studying for the midterm Baby started throwing up. At 4 a.m. to be exact. Of course, you can't have one type of bodily mass evacuation without another kind.. you know, from the other end. So we had all kinds of fun cleaning up messes. I thanked the heavens above multiple times for a great washing machine and dryer.

We traced the sickness back to a scoop of Breyers all natural vanilla ice cream. Never waste the good stuff on a lactose-intolerant 2 year old. She'll just give it back anyway, and her intestines will need days to recover.

When things like this happen - Baby sickness and a midterm - you just suck it up and push through because you really don't have a choice. Then the storm passes.

   

The day I took my midterm it rained and rained and rained, it was cloudy and dark. But when I came out of the test it looked like this, brilliantly bright with fast moving, puffy clouds. The storm had past. Doesn't that mean everything is great, smooth sailing ahead? What this picture doesn't show is that the wind is gusting.

By the time I returned home from the exam my body hurt all over, I didn't want to move, didn't want to think. I proceeded to be grumpy with everyone so I went to bed early. And I slept for 10 hours. Yoga was desperately needed this morning, I dressed warmly, hoping to sweat out my negative attitude (it worked, mostly).  Then I bought Dunkin Donuts to make up for the previous evening's attitude.

This morning I received an email telling me that one of my Ya-Yas, Becky, had a miscarriage that nearly cost her her life. Everything just keeps moving and it's like trying to drink out of a drinking fountain you can't pick your head up from, I can't take it all in - I get overwhelmed. So when I called to talk to Becky and got her answering machine, I cried my message instead of speaking it. She's a Ya-Ya, she'll translate.

With General Conference this weekend I'm just continuing to cry. It's not the same type of crying as I do for Becky, it's a happy, realization, loved, WOW, kind of cry. Anyway, if you're looking for me I'm just here; hangin' out with the fam, crying, watching conference, and eating donuts.

Don't put things you care about in the toilet.

It makes sense to carry your cell phone around in your back pocket. Unless your cell phone is flat, very smooth and not water resistant. Because when you pull your pants down that cell phone will fall out. If you're lucky, it won't go into the toilet. If you're a little lucky it will fall into a clean toilet bowl (that's me!). If you're unlucky it will fall into a dirty toilet bowl (that's someone else I know). That person has dubbed their phone "the potty phone". I like that, but I will not be using it - copyright infringement and all that.

Iphones are under warranty for just about everything but water damage. They even have a built-in litmus paper in the headphone jack to tell if you've soaked it. If you look in and see a white dot at the bottom, your Iphone has never been wet. If it is pink, red or black you've been dipping your Iphone where it don't belong.

As for my Iphone, I'm still waiting to find out it's final condition. For now it is in a plastic bag with dry rice; that is supposed to suck out any toilet water that remained inside. I am so attached to my phone that I've been carrying it around in my purse all day, rice and all. Who knows if I'll get an important message! (Despite the fact that it is OFF!) 

This tragedy happens after I had finally taken the time to figure out the calendar feature and add a couple of applications. Getting a phone like this feels like a whole lifestyle change if you use it to the utmost. It has been a difficult transition because I just don't trust it if I can't lay my hands on it, paper and ink. I have aplanner, but what if I had switched over to my Iphone calendar only? I'd be in a world of hurt now. Maybe I should get one of those cool chains that would hook it to my belt loop, a toilet bowl life-line for my prized possession.

Please understand this is not an advertisement for Iphones. That just happens to be what I have. Some people sing Apple's praises like there are no other gods before them. I think they are like any other computer company - their hardware and software have bugs and flaws. The biggest exception with Apple is that they have great marketing and a extremely loyal following. Their products are very pretty and they use scent therapy in their retail stores - check it out if you don't believe me.

There is much to be learned about wet Iphones, just Google it. My advice to you is that if you ever get a really cool phone, don't drop it in the toilet. Since it was already wet I did attack it with a Clorox wipe. But I still may use the speaker feature from now on instead of putting it up to my mouth and ear.

Is it Fibromyalgia?

In the last two months I've had fewer medical posts. Has that been nice? It has undeniably been nice for me. There is no reason for children to play doctor, doctors are not fun. An absence of doctors in your life is a good thing. I've enjoyed the hiatus. It was just a break though, not a permanent break-up. Poop. poopy poop.

In the last week I've had more achy mornings, preceded by nights of tossing and turning. After stumbling down to the kitchen to suck down the meds, that I was so sure would save me from the aches and pains, I found little relief. For some reason (I can guess a multitude, but be certain about none) this week the medications have decreased in effectiveness. I can still sit at the computer without piercing hip pain but have all-over pain instead. Knowing that no pill I take, hot shower taken, cold pack & liniments applied, exercising, or stretching I do will fully alleviate the discomfort makes me cry. Which gives me a headache. 

Yesterday, I admitted to myself that this wasn't getting any better so I scheduled appointments with an Acupressurist. It is like massage, using the principles of acupuncture- without the needles. A friend gave me the brochure months ago. It has been tempting for a long time, but also not covered by insurance. They ask that when you schedule as a new patient you commit to 4 sessions, that's $200 and 2 hours cumulatively. Neither is easy to come by. I finally got desperate enough to try it. One of the biggest reasons is: I admit to myself that this could be Fibromyalgia. (alot of admitting going on when I say "could" with italics, huh?)

I've resisted that diagnosis for a long time. There are pressure points associated with Fibromyalgia, it is the major diagnostic criteria. I am not sensitive in enough of the pressure points. It is as simple as that. BUT as I read over the new (at least new to me) symptom list on Web MD there was too much that sounded familiar.

Today I had an appointment with my PCP, it went very well. I'm so happy to have found him- at least one good doctor in this valley of egomaniacs. He recommended two new Rheumatologists, saying the response I got from my previous one was not right. They are both women and fairly new doctors, very responsive to their patients and informed about Fibromyalgia (if that is what I have). He said he doesn't necessarily rule out MS or something along those lines. He supported my idea to skip through all the formalities with the Neurologist and just ask for an MS screening and a spinal tap as a definitive diagnostic tool. It not only can diagnose MS, but lupus, and a miscellany of disorders.  

Considering both of those paths (neurology and rheumatology) is prudent because there could be some original problem such as MS or arthritis that stressed my body to such a degree that it precipitated the possible Fibromyalgia. The thing that out-and-out sucks about the two major candidates for diagnosis, (and I don't use the word "sucks" lightly, I mean it in the very most yuckiest sense of the word) is that neither MS nor Fibromyalgia have a cure. fun - not really.

Anyway, not alot of answers, but having a doctor listen did wonders for my mental state. He also slightly increased my Lyrica prescription, saying that if it works we should stick with it. I understand for the short term, not so happy about just upping meds when we don't know what is going on, but we're working on that.  He also prescribed a new drug called Cymbalta. Originally developed for depression and anxiety but now being used for Fibromyalgia. It works in a different way than Lyrica so its OK to take at the same time. I have to admit, very hesitantly, that dealing with the pain gets old. And I could use some help with the mental/emotional side of things. So if  Cymbalta helps with all of the things it is supposed to help with, then I will be grateful. If it just gives me more side effects - well, thenI guess I'll stock up on more fiber pills.

In all of this I am grateful for many things, most importantly- a husband that is supportive and understanding. Never once has he told me to suck it up and get out of bed, or to stop complaining, or anything like that. When I didn't feel well this morning he took the kids to school, then called to check on me and asked me out to lunch (which I appreciated but didn't feel up to). He has never questioned how I feel well enough to go to yoga or bookclub but not well enough to mop the kitchen floor. He is priceless.

The other huge thing I'm grateful for, which comes via the wonderful hubby, is insurance. Our good grocery store has a rack full of newspapers from all over the US, I glance at them, looking at the headlines from places I've been and lived. This last week, I noticed a headline from the Chicago Tribune about an immigrant woman who commited insurance fraud. She was in immense pain (I read this while in my own, lesser, pain) from cervical cancer, desperate for help she stole someone's identity so she could get medical attention. Not knowing what her illness was or what it would take to be treated, she eventually racked up large medical expenses through several treatments for cancer.

There is much to be said about her situation, about how one lie leads to another and nothing good comes from it, but for this post I'll just say that it made me so grateful for insurance and my well employed husband. I don't know how I'm so blessed. I pray for those who aren't. I don't know what to do to earn the blessings I have - is there is such a thing?

You have the power.

Yesterday I said, "This relates to thoughts I've had about what we want our lives to be and how fear keeps us from it. More on that tomorrow."

It is true that I have had thoughts about how our fears keep us from what we really want. Today I feel tired enough to let fears do their thing and so, I want to take a day off. Maybe the whole issue will be revisited. Maybe I'll let it go and leave you to tackle your fears the way you see fit, with or without psychological interferance.

You do have the power to be who you dream to be.

But for right now, all I want to say to you is- do do do and da da da.  

Late = BAD

Today I had a dental appointment. All of the kids also had the day off school. This may sound like a bad combination, but I did it on purpose so that R. would be home to take care of Baby and the gang, so I could actually go to the appointment. It wasn't until 9:45, totally do-able, especially considering I skipped my workout.

Anyone with kids knows that things happen. Things like poopy diapers. Things like mass riots. No matter how well you plan there will be unforseen events that make you late. I arrived at my dental appointment 15 minutes late. When I walked in the dentist's office Peggy, the unorthodox receptionist, exclaimed- "What happened to you!"

I smiled and said, "I have four kids."

 They tried to call my cell phone to ask if I was on my way, but I didn't answer, so they called for another patient to come in my place (I left it at home, by accident I swear).  In the end we worked it out so I returned during the lunch hour to have my teeth cleaned.

No harm, no foul, right?

Wrong.

The whole way home I fretted over my serious social faux paux.

It was BAD. 

I was BAD because I was late.

There are things that we, as a society, have labeled as BAD. These things themselves are not just BAD, but the person who does these types of things are then labeled as BAD. Their whole being becomes BAD, every cell being saturated with the badness that enabled the accursed BAD act to happen in the first place. Think I'm being crazy? Let me give you a few more examples.

A dirty house is a definate BAD. You tell me one time you've gone to someone's house, seen disgustingness in their bathroom and it has endeared you to them. No way, I won't believe you even if you try to tell me. If you have a dirty house, and I don't just mean a few stray toys or dishes from dinner last night in the sink, I'm talking not vacuumed in a week, toilet not scrubbed, what is that crusted on the table kind of dirty. Even if the poor woman just gave birth to triplets you'll judge the husband for not keeping some resemblance of cleanliness.

What if you were a lunch room parent for the day and a child walked in with a huge frownie face and then told you her Mom only put a sandwich in her bag lunch. BAD! (or very pathetically poor) In reality this mother could have been in the middle of preparing the dear child's lunch when the child swiped it off the counter. Or the mom could have told the child that it was up to her to put in the drink, chips, granola bar and apple herself but she didn't want to.  But no, we decide this mom is BAD BAD BAD.

I have no solutions to this issue. I just don't like it. I don't like that I do it to myself, nor do I like that I do it to others. Oh, and family may just be the exception to these social rules. As is the case with all social rules, my son and DH illustrate this at every meal with belching. Gotta love em'.

Really?

In my post from a week ago I mentioned sharing a few words about my faith publicly, in church. Since then I've had a few members of the congregation ask me about it. Specifically they ask: do I really not want to leave? At first I was somewhat surprised by the probing question and joked that I must have just been on a spiritual high and didn't know what I was saying. Today as I spoke to someone about it again I felt it reconfirmed, I REALLY don't want to leave.

Several months ago it was of great concern to me that our family was missing something great by having a different sort of church experience. We only have about 12 kids at church every week (unlike 100 or more some units deal with), so my kids actually get spoken to individually and have a turn to participate. Every teacher knows their names and many others know their names too. What is so bad about that? They don't get mammoth productions for extra activities, they don't even get one every 3 months. So what? That isn't what the gospel of Jesus Christ is about. They do go on visits to the poor and the needy. They have shared their home with children less fortunate than themselves. They don't choose friends by skin color. They know what it means when Dad says he won't be home on Saturday because he has to make the bishop's storehouse run (taking food to those in need). I like this kind of education my children are getting. It does come with hazards, there are trade-offs I realize, but it is well worth it.

This choice to serve is not easy. It feels like choosing spiritual combat duty, it doesn't come without it's scars and PTSD. I wonder how long to keep doing it without causing long term damage; but then I look at the old men I sustain as prophets, and figure if they can keep plugging away at it, then I can too. Although I do still humbly ask for greater health and strength to manage it.

This scripture was one I came across in my reading this week. 1 Nephi 14:14 "I, Nephi, beheld the power of the Lamb of God, that it descended upon the saints of the church of the Lamb, and upon the covenant people of the Lord, who were scattered upon all the face of the earth; and they were armed with righteousness and with the power of God in great glory."

Through this week, in pondering, reading, conversations, just all of my interactions (including, not MORE = better) I feel that the major part of 'better' that I need is more love. When I think of someone to emulate (Christ is a target so far flung I feel sure to miss), an example I have seen in real life, picturing her actions and knowing how her gentle, loving demeanor would come across in a situation- I think of my Great Aunt Diane. She seems always to be at peace with a loving smile. I haven't spent much time with her in my life, but the times I have are always filled with happiness, and an extra measure of love- perhaps the love, her sister, my Grandma Shirley would give if she were here.

So she is on my mind, in my heart, as I try to live with a greater outward flow of love. It does no good to have love in my heart, if it isn't felt by those around me.

"Look up, my soul; be not cast down.

Keep not thine eyes upon the ground.

Break off the shackles of the earth.

Receive, my soul, the spirit’s birth.

And now as I go forth again

To mingle with my fellowmen,

Stay thou nearby, my steps to guide,

That I may in thy love abide."

Hymn #158, Before Thee, Lord, I Bow My Head (3rd verse)

Text and music: Joseph H. Dean, 1855–1947

good things

The insurance company approved the new drug for me, they are now paying for everything. We have no more copays (deductable met). I picked up 3 prescriptions this morning without touching my wallet. That felt so good.

Am I a bit looney or does everyone think the grocery store is lovely?

 

 

 

 

 

 

I still can't be comfortable with taking pictures in public places. So I act like I'm looking something up on my Iphone and take a picture. Seriously, I'd be so embarassed if someone asked me why I was taking a picture, or worse yet told me I couldn't and yelled at me- like I was an infiltrator from another store spying on their prices. That's me, the produce secret agent, under cover with a lettuce leaf on her head.