lazy

lazy

Yesterday, we took my mom with us out to lunch and to see a Christmas musical called “Home for the Holidays”. It was really great to be out with her. As I struggle to find the Christmas spirit, she’s one of those people who just sort of carries it with her all of the time. I was hoping a little of her cheeriness would rub off on me.

When we got home, I went upstairs to lie down with a heating pad. The day took an enormous amount of energy and I was paying for it.

Often times, I have my laptop to read or watch something to distract me from the pain and fatigue. My body is exhausted but I can’t sleep.

Finn came in and wanted something, a video game on his iPod or something. I said no.

He became furious and said “Sometimes I don’t think you’re tired. I think you’re just lazy.”

I was stunned.

He left the room and I started to cry.

My one fear.

The main one, actually. The fear I carry around with me all day everyday, that people think I am faking or lazy, just came out of the mouth of my child.

I collected myself and called him back in the room.

I told him he hurt my feelings. He said he didn’t mean it. That he was angry.

I tried to explain more but 9 year old boys are impatient and he was so upset that he made me cry that I could tell he just wanted to flee the situation.

So I let him.

But what he said stayed with me. And probably always will.

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Swallowed

Swallowed

I’m here. I’m here!

Summer swallowed me up whole, dearies. Twas fast, loud and sweaty. There was a trip to D.C. to drop off babies with cousins, grandparents and aunt and uncle, while Peter and I scooted off to Amsterdam.

Sigh.

Oh, Amsterdam. Do you think of me as often as I think of you? When I think of you I’m on a Dutch Bike with long hair.

Then our Taylor’s wedding to the most wonderful Dave in Washington.

Sigh.

Oh, our Taylor. I wish the whole world could have been at her wedding. (So. Much. Dancing!)

The kids start school on Monday, August 13, so I’m busy counting down days and smiling.

Scuse me now, the blue eyed devils want to have a lemonade stand.

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Shell

Shell

I wish I could explain it to people. I try. But you don’t know unless you’ve experienced it. Being pushed off a cliff into the depths of despair.

It can happen regardless of your life situation.

I am happier than I ever have been in my entire life. I have a wonderful life and yet I am depressed.

Really depressed. Not “I’m so depressed my favorite show was cancelled.”

No.

Lying-on-the-floor-staring-at-the-ceiling-while–you-sob-uncontrollably-depressed.

It’s very common with chronic illness. It bound to wear you down being in pain all of the time. I have been on an anti-depressant since shortly after being diagnosed with lupus. And with my recent back surgery, the pain has been endless and seemingly insurmountable.

I know some people think depression is a weakness, that life is sad. That you should be able to buck up and pull yourself out of it.

There is no pulling yourself out of this.

It’s horribly dark and so hopeless and scary.

I just felt empty. Hollow.

I’ve known for a while that my antidepressant wasn’t fully doing its job.

For YEARS my psychiatrist has been trying to get me off of my current antidepressant because he didn’t think it was right for me. I kept saying no. Why rock the boat? I deal with so much medical bullshit and so many other medications that the thought of transitioning to a new medication did not appeal.

Looks like my body made the decision for me. Three days before Christmas.

Ho fucking ho.

As I said, it felt like I had been pushed off a cliff.

And then suddenly, I was drowning.

I was paralyzed. Couldn’t get out of bed. Didn’t want to eat. Couldn’t help with the kids at all. My whole body hurt. I couldn’t think straight.

Luckily, I am married to the ultimate human being and have a superhero bestie who came bearing vegan ice cream sandies and laid in bed with me while I cried. She may as well have been wearing a cape.

I finally got my doctor on the phone, explained the situation and med changes were quickly made.

And now I wait. And experience all of the quirky and horrible side effects that come with transitioning off of one medication and onto another.

***The above was written December 22***

Today is January 6 and just YESTERDAY did I start to feel like me again. I showered and actually left the house. I smiled genuinely for the first time in WEEKS and it felt SO GOOD. I can not even explain the feeling. I was jubilant. I felt free.

I debated whether or not to even post this. While talking to Meg though, she helped me realize it’s not something I’m ashamed of and if anything, posting this will educate someone or help someone else feel like they are less alone.

PS – If you do happen to know someone who is struggling with depression, do not, under any circumstances say anything like this to them “But you’re pretty and skinny. What do you have to be depressed about?” Because you might get punched in the teeth.

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Keeping It Low Key…Still

Keeping It Low Key…Still

Ok, so I had my 2 week follow up appointment with my surgeon today and he assured me everything I am going through is normal. This was validating and I’m sure you can imagine what I had been imagining. Or maybe you can’t. It was dramatic, people.

Upon entering the exam room he said “So, how are we doing?”

Eloquent 38 year old that I am, I said “You didn’t tell me it would suck this bad.”

He laughed uncomfortably.

I’m in a better place mentally though, in less pain..sort of, and have updated my expectation management software to the current (and more realistic) version.

Can I just take a moment to recognize Peter Provost? The guy is a champ. Truly. And I would have been committed to the loony bin had it not been for him these last few weeks. The guy’s phenomenal under pressure. I will miss him being my driver, personal assistant and all around sherpa.

So, I stumbled up on the following advice last year and like a good little nerd, I copied it and put it in my calendar on 12/5/11 with the header “EMILY: READ THIS”. (I love when I do stuff like that) Imagine my delight when I opened it and read what fits PERFECTLY into my desire to “keep it low key”

Enjoy.

(via Blooma Blog – I’m sorry I don’t have the link and now I can’t find it!)

Be in charge of your holiday season. Don't let other people or advertising medium impose their expectations on you. Keep in touch with your deepest feelings.

• Keep it simple. You arrange the pace and space. (So important for keeping your kids sane, too!)
• If the loss of a loved one, financial troubles, or any serious anxiety surround you this holiday, make the season as simple and as positive as possible for yourself.

Holiday Bill of Rights:
• You have the right to take care of yourself: eat right, exercise, and get enough rest.
• You have the right to mixed emotions: happy, sad, frustrated, guilty, afraid, and thankful.
• You have the right to solitude—for planning, thinking, reflection, introspection, prayer, and relaxation.
• You have the right not to accept party or dinner invitations.

So good, right?

Our darling tree is up. A lovely wreath is on the front door. We play Christmas music every day and talk about the excitement of Christmas. I have a few activities planned (Botanic Gardens lights & Denver Gay Men’s Chorus Christmas Show) but other than that, we’re keeping it…say it with me…LOW KEY. And I couldn’t be more delighted.

Sending you some zen and coziness on this lovely Tuesday.

XO

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Enter: Reality

Enter: Reality

Ok, so it turns out I’m a bit of an unrealistic psycho. (shocker, I know.)

It has been one week and 2 days since surgery. I have been diligently conferring with my Dr., whom you may know, Dr. Google, and he agreed that I am an unrealistic psycho and that I need PATIENCE and TIME. This pain is normal. SUCKY but normal and I must be tender and careful with myself.

I knew this.

But Dr. Google has a way of solidifying things, you know? (Word to the wise though, Dr. Google has some patients who are not the kooky, fun kind of psycho (me), who tried to tell me that they had disc surgery too and I was going to end up alone, in a wheelchair, never to walk again, like them. And that we should start a book club.

NEXT!

Ok. Patience. Got it. Will work on that.

In the meantime, I have a confession. I cannot understand or fathom, and am actually quite embarrassed to tell you this.

I watched not one, but TWO seasons, all in a row, of Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders: Making the Team last night. I stayed up until 1am.

Friends, What. The. Fug? My intention was to watch Melancholia but at the last minute I deemed it, well, melancholic and searched for something mindless.

BINGO!

I’m telling you. I can’t look away. Trying to armchair psychoanalyze myself, the only thing I could come up with was that I grew up in Houston, Texas. When I was little I wanted to be a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader (the pinnacle of success and beauty – eek gad) or a waitress. BIG DREAMS!! Whatevs. I was like, 6.

Happy happy Friday. Don’t let the holiday crazies grab hold of you. Remember….keep it low key.

gentle movements, peace and pain pills,

Emily

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Low Key

Low Key

Hi kids.

Sigh.

It’s been a while.

I had surgery last week on a herniated disc that has been plaguing me for YEARS. It had just progressively gotten worse and the solutions (injections, PT were doing NADA) so I said “fuck it. do surgery” and proceeded to schedule it for the day before Thanksgiving.

It’s called a minimally invasive lumbar discectomy. Basically, they put me under, make a small incision, cut out the herniated disc part, move the nerve that is unhappy to a happier place and stitch me back up. It was supposed to be outpatient but they couldn’t get my pain under control (awesome!) to send me home so I was admitted for the night.

I am currently in the recovery part, which I hadn’t anticipated would suck balls. There isn’t relief, yet. It’s supposed to come eventually, but of course, Debbie Downer infiltrates my brain and convinces me that there will be no difference. The doc says it will take 6-8 weeks to notice the full difference. It’s been 1 week.

For two weeks there is to be: no bending, lifting or twisting. No lifting anything over 10 lbs. No driving. I can walk all I want, which I have been doing, when I haven’t been sleeping because I’m more tired than I’ve ever been. Add in pain pills and it ain’t pretty.

Yesterday I had a total pity party. Poor Peter. He works from home, so from time to time, I would just show up in his office, shoulders slumped with frowny, borderline cry face on.

Patience, he would say. You’re doing great.

It’s hard to be patient when Christmas buzz whirrs around me and everyone is rushing and talking about how much they have to do! So much to do!

And there’s me.

The turtle.

I know it’s all doable.

And it’s not a race.

My mantra for this month is to keep it low key. Imagine my delight when I received an email from MCA Denver yesterday with this picture attached.

Seriously?

FAB-U-LOUS. (I heart the beautiful naked guy in the grocery cart)

I love it and want it to be our Christmas card. I’m not sending those, by the way. Christmas cards. It’s not low key. Wouldn’t want to mess with the theme.

I just finished Mindy Kaling’s Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) thereby cementing the fact that she and I need to be friends. It’s a quick and super hilarious read.

Today, I will be good to myself. And no pity parties. And maybe I’ll shower. Maybe.

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Egg laying bunnies

Egg laying bunnies

The whole materialization of Easter grosses me out.

The other day I heard a kid say to another kid “What are you going to ask for for Easter?”

Wha?

The whole idea of the Easter Bunny makes me laugh and is sort of creepy. (so is Santa, really) And where did this bunny get the eggs it is supposedly bringing?

We have chosen to just to make it about celebrating the arrival of Spring.

Today at Target, I was begrudgingly picking up a few little things to put in H&F’s Easter baskets.

The following is the conversation I had with the checker: (what is it with me and cuckoo Target checkers?)

Checker: Hey, how are you?

Me: Good, how you doing?

Checker: Really great! (He was a really big guy. Super charismatic and huggable looking.) Do you have any plans for this weekend?

Me: Spending time with family. How about you?

Checker: Oh! Family, Church, and Food!

I smiled.

Checker: Are you going to church this Sunday?

WHO ASKS SHIT LIKE THIS?

Me: Nope.

Checker: Cool.

Awkward silence for the remainder of the transaction.

Pushing my loot to the car, I wondered how the conversation could have gone differently. What if I had said “Heck yeah I’m going to church!” Would he have said “AWESOME!” and then we would have high fived?

For some reason, I think this version probably would have played out because he was so gregarious and also he had a huge silver cross on a big chain around his neck. Or maybe he would have said “Big Ups for Jesus!” and we would have fist bumped.

Or maybe not.

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P E A C E

P E A C E

We’re headed to the Denver Art Museum for the afternoon, then Christmas Eve dinner at Steubens before we look at lights on the way home.

Low stress and non-traditional. Just the way I like it.

Wishing you a lovely holiday filled with love, laughter, patience and perhaps some valium if necessary.

XO

Emily

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A Coyote Solstice Tale

A Coyote Solstice Tale

While picking up presents at Tattered Cover, I stopped to peruse the holiday books.

I’m so bored with most of them and was delighted to find a creative alternative to the usual fare.

From School Library Journal:

Coyote is expecting Beaver, Bear, Otter, and Moose for a solstice dinner at his small house in the woods but a little girl in a reindeer costume shows up first. When the friends follow her tracks to discover where she came from, they discover a huge and frenzied mall just beyond the woods, where Coyote goes wild shopping until he discovers that he has to pay for the stuff. The humor is dry and affectionate, the rhyming text delights with sly turns of phrase, the watercolor cartoons are whimsical, and the small size of the book (a bit bigger than a DVD case) adds to the charm. This holiday treat will leave readers with no doubt that an evening spent at home with your buds is priceless.–

The kids love it, especially Finn, and we’ve been reading it every night.

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Freedom

Freedom

The kids’ winter break starts on Friday. I am mentally preparing as if I am going to war, which I am, sort of.

I am stock piling all of my patience and ideas for fun so that I can be a good mama instead of channeling Joan Crawford in Mommy Dearest. Peter’s vacation starts on the 22nd so luckily I don’t have much solo time.

Sigh…

So, today I will finish (and by “finish” I mean “start”) shopping for Christmas. Shouldn’t be too bad. I am trying to shop local so I’ll hit up the local toy store and book store and call it a day. The kids are only getting a few things. They don’t need more crap. (Although, I would by lying if I said I wasn’t OVER THE MOON excited about Finn getting an Easy Bake Oven. I will be his best customer.)

Yesterday, I went to my usual lunch hour yoga class.  I felt murderous during the whole thing. Amped up and anxious. Tense. Ready to bite flesh or get in a fight.

This is not the norm.

The reason?

The instructor, a lovely woman who is a perfectly great yoga instructor, played FUCKING KENNY G THE WHOLE TIME.

THE WHOLE TIME.

THE WHOLE TIME.

Did I say the whole time?

An HOUR of Kenny G.

As I sat on my mat stretching and waiting for class to begin, I calmed myself down by saying ‘Surely, she’ll switch the music when she starts class. Don’t worry.” (The studio is known for great music that complements the practice.)

I have a physical reaction to Kenny G. I don’t find him relaxing or soothing or Zen.

That soprano saxophone gets into my brain and digs around like a raccoon in a garbage can, pulling out the most negative thoughts and riddling my body with malevolence. And then on some of the songs, he would sing. I audibly grunted a few times. My desire to flee was so strong that I almost grabbed my shit and left. But the class was super full and I didn’t want to ruin anyone else’s practice.

At the end of class, I stayed in savasana all of 10 seconds before I literally sprinted from the class to the safety of my car.

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Gone away is the new bird

Gone away is the new bird

Trying to be festive and doing a pretty good job of it. Bay leaf wreath smells delightful. Tree up. Lights outside still need to be hung. (Not my department) Daily Christmas tunes. Fun plans for the blue eyed devils over Christmas break.

Reminding myself to breathe and not get stressed out. No reason to, really. After a busy Thanksgiving, I’m looking forward to an obligation free Christmas. 

I wish my body would play along and be more Holly Golightly rather than Holly Goleaden and fatigued.

I’ve been dragging myself through the days. Not many spoons to spare. Peter and the kids had a cold/flu last week and they have given it to me. I don’t get any of the same symptoms (sore throat, coughing, sniffles) or even a fever. I just get completely wiped out. Brain fog, achy, painful skin, etc. (I didn’t get the mail for three days because the thought of walking 4 houses down to our bank of mailboxes was too much.)

Add onto that nonsense is ongoing severe hip pain, which has me acting as a ping pong ball between a back doctor and my rheumatologist. Thinking it was my piriformis muscle, the back doc ordered an injection of steroids directly into that muscle, otherwise known as my ass. (interesting stuff. I asked for a DVD of the process, like a nerd.) Alas, this did nothing to alleviate pain but made me anxious and nauseous. Good old steroids.

I’m due to return to the back doctor to look at more options next week. And then the rheumatologist to see how lupus is involved. You get the picture.

Exhausting.

No appetite but food is necessary, of course. Trying to juice everyday and eat healthy because that helps. All of this food prep takes energy though. Blah.

Lots of mini pity parties, where, when no one is around, I’ll slink to the floor in the kitchen and lay my head on the cool floor thinking I can’t possibly get up.

While lying there, I silently wish that I had more energy, more spoons, to get stuff done.

Pity parties aren’t long in these parts though. I won’t allow it. Wallowing isn’t productive. I’ll listen to myself think these thoughts, sometimes cry, tell myself I’m ok, acknowledge and move on.

Life is really really good after all and I have so much to be thankful for. SO much.

Plus, the countdown is on for our family trip to Sayulita Mexico with my three besties and their fams in January. That thought brightens many of my days.

More peppy post tomorrow. I promise.  XO

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Always Thankful

Always Thankful

Been inspired lately and trying to be positive and surround myself with goodness. Frequent yoga is helping immensely. I love the body buzz and the mental high.

Thanksgiving was really lovely. I am completely depleted and my body hates me from overuse but I am so content. My cousin Brendan and his wife came and stayed with us for the holiday. I was initially nervous because hosting people is exhausting. My anxiety mounted. Turned out it was completely unnecessary. They were the perfect guests. Really really cool people. We miss them and want them to come back.

My brother Neil and his family came from Dallas so we were all together.

My mom made the evening so unique and special. She is like no other in the most loving way. Love is in the details. And there were so many details. We all had these little place cards.

It was just SO good to be together to talk and laugh. There’s nothing like being with them. I laughed so much the whole time. Seriously. The WHOLE time. My sister said it perfectly when she said that we all have just accepted where and who we are and love each other unconditionally. So true. No stress or weird drama. Just togetherness. Dad is always missed but we be so proud of us. Especially Mom. 

(the kids were so curious about Uncle Peter not having hair. I went and got a wig for him. Wigs are funny. And how normal does he look with it on??)

My favorite part is always seeing the cousins together. There are 9 of them and they were constantly playing together. Meg has a great post about the week too.

This is Neil’s oldest Olivia and Hadley. How cute are they? And how much do they look alike? They are the redheads in the bunch. You can see Grace, Olivia’s sis in the background.

As much fun as we had, I am happy to be back to the routine, where I feel most comfortable.

Yesterday ruled for no apparent reason. Clear head, minimal pain, more energy than usual. Yoga, eating well and laundry. It’s the small things.

Each night at dinner we cheers each other and clink glasses. Everyone says the best part and the worst part of their day.

Yesterday, I couldn’t think of a worst part. Not one thing. Love that.

Been avoiding negativity and “noise” lately, which helps my current state of mind. You know what I mean by noise….too much TV or internet, stores or bustling around, cranky people. Embracing stillness.

A while ago I stopped reading some websites and blogs because they were becoming toxic. Blogs that I had been reading for years…just because I read them every day. But when I started to evaluate what I got from reading them, I came up empty. The only thing keeping me going was voyeurism and that’s not good enough. Most of the time I would grimace after I read the post.

Not anymore. I won’t name names. No need.

Welcome to December, little birdies. I hope the month brings you good cheer.

The kids were so psyched to start their Advent calendars today. Hadley got the Amsterdam Calendar from Nouveau Designs. (We will discuss my desire and dream to move to Amsterdam at a later date. My mind is churning…)

 

And Finn has the Brooklyn calendar. I love love love them.

 

Listening to Amos Lee on this Wednesday morning and contemplating plans for the day. Hope your week is going well.

XO

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fall break–although it really shouldn’t be called a “break”

fall break–although it really shouldn’t be called a “break”

Peter is out of town and this just happens to be the week the kids are off of school for Fall Break. Full time single momdom is really freaking hard.

AND the day after he leaves, my email stops working. OF COURSE.

I said I felt like I had “locked in syndrome.” I can receive emails but I cannot reply, as they are not leaving my outbox. Grrr.

I promised the blue eyed devils that we would do one fun thing a day. And then they couldn’t squawk about being bored for the rest of the day. I am  happy to say I made good on my promise. I am exhausted and have spent way too much money but they have actually been busy every day doing fun things. Kids love structure, as do I, so it works out. They have been pretty well behaved, and exhausted at night, which is awesome.

I am way overdoing it energy wise and start to glaze over and hobble around about 5:30. I collapse into bed at 9:30 each night. I literally have had to tell Hadley she HAS to go to bed because I have to go to bed.

We’ve painted pottery, had lunches out, went to parks (it’s been GORGEOUS this week), went to the movies, roller skated, painted pumpkins (thanks, B!), went on long scooter rides, baked things…the works.

The husbie comes home tonight and we are all looking forward to him being home. The kids have made a zillion things for him, which are all lovingly wrapped and waiting for him in a big pile.

I have a doctor’s appointment today and I am so looking forward to the alone time. That says a lot considering doctor appointments blow. It’s a rheumatologist appointment so at least there is minimal poking and prodding. Plus, who doesn’t relish quiet time in a waiting room reading the latest issues of Arthritis Today with all of the other old people!?

I have been really loving all of the spooky décor for Halloween. Not the cheesy/hokey stuff but the cool stuff that you could legitimately have in your house year round, like black feather wreaths, sparkly skulls and the like.  I let the kids buy a black skull candle that when lit, bleeds red through the eyes. Every morning, first thing, Finn reminds me to “light the skull, mom! light the skull!”

After a week of being supermom, I am fantasizing about booking a room at the new Four Seasons downtown for a night. It won’t be this weekend as we have a birthday party on Saturday and family pictures on Sunday, but that would be soooo loverly.

Especially since as I compose this post, the kids are eating cupcakes for breakfast, hitting each other and seeing how many times they can say “butt.”

I’m am totally clocking out as soon as PGP gets home.

I really love this picture and can’t find the source. Apologies!

Happy Weekend, Goblins.

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And the World Spins Madly On

And the World Spins Madly On

Hello gorgeous.

I am enjoying my little blog break, continuing to heal, eating lots of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and watching good movies. 

Have a lovely weekend and tell yo mama you love her.

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Thanks, Easter Bunny. Bok! Bok!

Thanks, Easter Bunny. Bok! Bok!

The night before Easter, Hadley said “So, is there really an Easter bunny or is it you?”

Peter and I were bustling around the kitchen so I mouthed “HELP!” to him.

“It’s us,” he said.

I wish I had a picture of the look on her face. There was a little bit of disappointment but it was mostly wonder and delight at knowing a secret.

I’m glad we told her the truth, of course, but I felt some sadness too, knowing that moment and her belief in the bunny, would be one more thing to shed as she quickly grows up.

We swore her to secrecy even though she was busting at the seams to tell SOMEBODY that the jig was up and she KNEW!

We had a lovely Easter brunch over at Mom’s with Paddens and Pellegrinos. So delicious. Owen and Lyla hid eggs for the little cousins to find. It was so sweet.

Mia, Hadley with Luca on her lap, Owen (standing), Lyla with Ottilia in her lap and Finn.

Hadley left our house in a darling floral sundress. I do not have a picture of her in it because as soon as we got to Nana’s house, she found a new outfit amidst all of the stuff my mom has saved over the years.

She is wearing my (or Meg’s) Catholic grade school uniform skirt, her own white t-shirt with a lace dickey she found and some random headband flower thing that I probably got at a renaissance festival in 8th grade.

We love our rare bird. Isn’t she awesome?

Here’s the best part:

She wore it to school today too. (minus the headband and dickey)

Finn forgot his basket at home, so we improvised and gave him a bucket to find eggs.

I was feeling so much better after a visit to the rheumatologist on Friday. They gave me an “IV Push” of Solumedrol (steroids) to get me through the flare. I really do hate steroids but I was desperate and this is fast acting and leaves your system quickly.

Such a weird experience to walk into a room where other people are all hooked up to IVs, sitting quietly and looking sick.

It immediately made me uncomfortable and I knew I had to lighten the mood.

The nurse asked me something and I told her that I didn’t have enough room in my brain to remember everything because I was currently so enmeshed in the Sandra Bullock/Jesse James scandal.

As soon as I said that, everyone lit up and started chatting about what they knew or had heard. We had ourselves a celeb gossip session for the next 30 minutes.

I was relieved.

I could NOT have stayed there with the stale air, silence and somber mood.

She gave me the injection via IV and then had me stay there for 30 minutes so they could make sure I didn’t have any reactions.

And then I was on my way.

By Saturday morning, I felt SO much better. The pain was much less intense although I did feel the speed-like effects of the steroids, which is kind of annoying. Gritting my teeth and feeling like I had too much caffeine.

I  hope you and yours had a lovely weekend full of Easter candy and togetherness.

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Wish I Were Here

Wish I Were Here

                                     image via sfgirlbybay

Craving warm weather, a clean uncluttered, remodeled house, fresh highlights, shaved legs, lovely outings with friends, a date with my husband and a personal chef. Can someone get on that, please?

Did I ever tell you my Darling (capital D intended) across the street neighbor had to go through the same mastectomy BS at basically the same time I did? Isn’t that beyond weird? I don’t think I’ve mentioned it. Probably for privacy purposes. But I don’t think she’d mind at this point. We have had each other to compare notes, complain, etc. which has been really comforting. We have the same plastic surgeon too. Anyway, send out some magical booby love to her today. She got her final implants and is free of those horrible expanders. Congrats, B!

Talking about “beyond weird”, it’s also bizarre that my mom got her diagnosis a month after mine but I think there surely had to be a reason. You can’t imagine what this is like until you’ve been through it. I got it first so I could help B and Mom.

Silver lining, people, silver lining.

My next and final surgery is April 14th. That’s when the doc will put the finishing touches on. To avoid creepy perverts, I’ll say “knipples.” (thanks Mrs. R!) They will take skin from my belly to make knipples and attach them. After they heal, the areola will be tattooed on. I’ve seen his work and it looks so good. No sensation anywhere but they’ll look right.

Sigh.

I’m over it.

I’m over everything, actually. I’m dead tired and the activity never stops.

Met with my rheumatologist a few days ago and she was all a twitter over the new drug, Benlysta. I might be able to start it late summer. It is administered through IV (which takes an hour) once a month. Kind of a pain in the ass but if it makes my lupus better? Bring it.  Plus, one less pill! And the news from the trial is VERY good. Minimal side effects and lots of improvement! Everything else checked out fine. I mentioned all of the normal shit I have been experiencing: hair loss, nose sores, blue numb hands, crazy fatigue, brutal hip and knee pain and RLS.

She smiled and said “Yup. That’s lupus.”

“Yup.” I said.

She asked if I wanted something for the RLS (Requip, which lists this as one of the side effects: You may have increased sexual urges, unusual urges to gamble, or other intense urges while taking this medication.)

Unusual urges to gamble? In addition to being super sleepy (which it does). So, I would be a super sleep,y sex craving gambler? I’m laughing just typing this….

“God, no.” I said. “Please no more pills. I’ll deal with it.”

I peed in a cup and they took a bunch of blood per usual and in 3 months I go back to do it all again. All in all, a successful trip to the doc.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day to you. Slainte! I’m making Bangers and Mash for dinner tonight in honor of my fellow Irishmen.

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Happy Happy Love Love

Happy Happy Love Love

Hope you had a lovely Valentine’s Day.

Much to blather about. Just don’t feel like talking. There are children to put to bed, ice cream to eat and Big Love to watch.

I gave my darling geek husband this card from Pop+Shorty for Valentine’s Day. I had no idea what it meant but crossed my fingers it would make him smile. And it did.

I’ll leave you with this sweet pic via pixy and taco beans.

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Slippery When Wet – Especially on Halloween 1999

Slippery When Wet – Especially on Halloween 1999

This is a picture of me and Claire at a party that Peter and his roommates threw on Halloween 1999. (The photo is wrecked and I don’t have the software to clean it up after I scanned it in,so live with it.)

Me, Claire and Becca decided to go as head bangers from New Jersey. The idea was stellar and we had SO much fun getting ready. I can’t remember why ELK didn’t dress up but she captured it all on video.

I painstakingly painted Bon Jovi’s Slippery When Wet album cover on the back of my acid washed jean jacket. I remember it taking me a long time. Wish I had a shot of it. Check out the fringe on Claire’s jacket. She got the best one.

We had on long red fake nails, chewed gum and talked with Jersey accents the whole night. That was the best part. I can’t remember what our names were… I dug for a picture of Becca but couldn’t find one. She had this massive blond curly wig on. We made up whole back stories for our “characters” and ELK filmed the whole thing. We put all the footage on a VHS tape and titled it “I am No Whore”, which we thought was hysterical, of course. The title came from us saying that throughout the night. “I’m sorry. I am NO whorah.”

I wish I could find that VHS tape! Pure comedy. I remember one snippet where I was talking to the camera about my gold cross necklace and how I got it for my f-ing confirmation.Then I was all “zoom in on it! zoom in on it!” We were class acts.

I’m laughing now thinking back because this post is not doing justice to how much freaking fun we had that night. It really is one of my favorite memories. I loved being someone else for the night. Especially a trash tawkin’, headbanger from New Jersey.

Side note: Peter and I had only been dating about 3 months at the time of this party. (He dressed up as himself circa 1989, which was fantastic because he really used to be a head banger so he just put on crap he still had and threw on a wig.)

We spent so much time on that same porch swing throughout our courtship, talking for hours and hours. It was there that I told him so many things about myself and he did the same. It was on that swing that I laid everything on the line and told him exactly what I was looking for in my life. No bullshit. I always thought of going to that house to see if I could buy the swing. I don’t even know if it’s there anymore.

Here’s to our swing, honey! I freaking love you. (said in NJ accent) Also, happy happy birthday my sweet 41 year old husband. (Saying the 41 year old part is imperative because it makes me seem REALLY young at 36. You see the logic.)

Welcome to the week people.

Shout out to my favorite comedian/husband of my bestie, Brandon Moynihan, for his most recent, hysterical commercial that aired during the SuperBowl. (He is the “dolphin trainer in the sweet yellow and green jumpsuit)

 

And here’s ANOTHER one starring Brandon from the SuperBowl that is hysterical.

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Magical Christmas Eve 2009

Magical Christmas Eve 2009

Does anyone else feel TOTALLY behind on things?

I have Christmas thank you cards to write.

THAT kind of behind.

Argh.

Any free time I have I think “oh! I can lay down.” Because of lupus I don’t have that thing that makes you go“Free time?!? Oh GOOD, I’ll go work out, then run to the grocery store, then re-organize the recycling, change all of the air filters, clean out the refrigerator and call it a day!”

I’m trying to be kind to myself but it really pisses me off that I’m not TOTALLY ON IT ALL THE TIME.

Moving on…

I did not want this memory to fade before I had a chance to document it because I want to remember every bit.

Our plans just really happened sort of organically on Christmas Eve. We didn’t have family plans for that day so I knew it was just us. I wanted to do something different. We decided to go to the Denver Art Museum and stayed for hours and hours. The place was deserted. Just the way I like it.

We had no agenda. No place to be. But with each other. Amidst all of the delicious art.

I took a shot of them outside the museum. Fake smiles much?

Here’s another piece of art I love in Denver. It’s right near the entrance. I think I’m all about large scale.

 

She was just sitting there like this, taking it in.

This exhibit was my FAVE. It’s an entirely red dining room with grey-black foxes posed all over the place. I wanted to sit down in there. Plus, I love the way the red in Hadley’s dress is being picked up. She was entranced.

 

After we had seen EVERYTHING I suggested we go get dinner at Steubens.

 

It was JUST what the doctor ordered. I love this place.  It’s a bar/restaurant downtown with good eats and a downtown vibe.

You know those days/nights when all of the stars align and life is just really really good?

It was one of those nights.

The kids were worn out from the museum and being lovely. My mind and heart were full of all of the fantastic-ness that we just checkout at DAM.

Peter and I ordered drinks (Dark and Stormy for me, thanks. PGP had his usual Guiness) and deliciousness ensued. Public thank yous to AXM for introducing me to my latest drink – a Dark and Stormy. Look into it.

I had grilled cheese and tomato soup, oh yes I did, and was in heaven. I dipped my sandwich in the soup and kept thinking “I love you, grilled cheese, in all of your simplistic glory.”

This picture sucks but it was the only one I had of us at Steubens so just know that Peter was not totally hammered. (I’m laughing thinking of how my sissie and I always say that a picture is a good one if WE look good.)

Team Provost for evah.

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Bring It

Bring It

I had a lovely dinner out with my mom and sister tonight. The perfect dinner companions. I would include the picture of us at dinner but I don’t have it yet and even if I did I look like sasquatch and wouldn’t post it anyway. (this pic is from my lunch with CCC when he was in town from Atlanta. ::Sigh:: That visit was too short dear friend.)

Anyway, I was on the end in the picture. You know the person on the end and the one closest to the camera looks like a wildebeest. Mom and Meg are positively Lilliputian next to me. It was just all wrong.

They hassled me about not updating my blog frequently enough. That made me laugh. (I’m updating ladies!)  I have been slacking and relaxing. Just nothing to write about I guess. Or perhaps I’m just lazy.

Happy New Year to you! I am not really one for resolutions as I try every day to be better but i do have a few things in mind that I want to accomplish in 2010. One of them would simply be to not have any medical emergencies.

Please.

My next surgery is on Wednesday. I’m ready. Prescriptions are filled. Blood work is done. Hair is done. (Top priority in case they really are giving out the “best hair in surgery” award I’ve dreamed out. )

I’ve known Michael, my hair stylist, since i was like 16. Meg found him first. He calls himself my “brister” – combination of brother and sister.

Anyway, as he’s washing my hair, we were talking about my surgery and a new stylist walked in the room. Michael filled her on what we were talking about. (He cuts my mom’s hair too so he said ‘Remember Ellen? I told you about her. Well, this is HER daughter.’ – I hate being the one who has a story. Just once I’d love to be the girl without a story.)

So, the new stylist, who still has her coat on, says “Oh, it’s nice to meet you.” Before she came in, I had been telling Michael that I was going to show him. So when he’s done shampooing, I stand up and lift up my shirt.

You know she wasn’t expecting seeing that at work that day. Poor girl.

Michael was fascinated and appreciated the teaching moment.

And I proceed to stand there chit chatting nonchalantly as the two of them check out my weird, nipple less mounds. 

As my friend and neighbor B says, “they’re not boobs, they’re just hardware.” I may as well have been showing them my cell phone.

This is what mine look like.

Sort of creepy but I’m so used to it now and I’ve grown fond of them.

That picture is from a website called Myself: Together Again. It’s one woman’s struggle with breast cancer, chemo and then reconstruction and its well done.

You know it’s funny, when I think about it, this year has sucked. And yet, I can’t honestly remember a time when I’ve been happier or felt luckier.

Life is constantly throwing shit at you. It’s like this perpetual game of dodge ball. You’re bopping along, having fun, laughing with friends and then randomly get hit in the face. You pick yourself back up and get back in the game. (a sports analogy is such a stretch for me. I’m even surprising myself with it.)

As long as I’m with my friends and family though and keeping positive, life can be a really amazing.

Looking forward to a delish brunch with an old same tomorrow morning at Beatrice and Woodsley. WIshing E&C could be there too.

AND….AND!! School starts back up on Monday! I might bring my left over champagne to celebrate at the bus stop. More on the blue eyed devils another time. They’re both excelling in loud talking and complaining about food choices.

Hope you have a relaxing Sunday…

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