Freeeee!!!!

My dysfunction today involves shopping.  Well, it wasn't actually supposed to involved shopping.  It was supposed to involve me going into Lane Bryant and collecting my free pair of Cacique panties and leaving.  (You still have 3 more days to get in on this if anyone is interested....click here.)

But I am indecisive, very indecisive.  If I see a bunch of good choices in front of me I just can never tell what the BEST one of those is.  So I wander around looking at my options (plain color only), and seeing all the others that aren't my option, and really liking them better.  Then I see that there is a sale.  5 for $29.  If you get the non plain color that's like getting 3 free.  Who can pass up 3 free pair of underwear? 

Not me, that's who.  So much for for the free shopping trip, but really that's their goal isn't it?  But now I don't have to pick just one, I have to pick 6 (my 5 + the free one).  Ok, who thought THAT was a good idea???  That only makes it harder.  So I'm searching and searching, thinking it really shouldn't be so hard, I mean nobody but me is going to see them, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they aren't going to look as cute on me as they do laying on the table.  My daughter is totally unimpressed by this shopping adventure and can't understand why we can't just leave and go get lunch.

There are 2 other women there with their free coupons in hand as well.  One lady took about 2 minutes to choose the one (and only one!) she wanted.  What's up with that?  Why am I incapable of that?  The other lady...she took some to the dressing room to try on.  Ummm...ewww.  I mean, I get it (you want to make sure they are the right size/fit, and the saleslady did remind her she needed to keep on her own undergarments)...but, but I don't get it.  Ok, well really my problem with this is totally my own issue.  I would be mortified to try on underwear and bring them back to the table if I didn't like them.  Why?  Because I would be afraid you could tell they were tried on, like they'd somehow be stretched out twice as big as they are supposed to be.  Seriously, you couldn't get more humiliating than that, right?  No matter if there was no perceptible difference at all, I would still see them as humongous.

I wonder if skinny chicks overthink stuff like this, or maybe it's just because I'm a fat chick, or maybe I'm just some sort of freak.  But, really...please tell me I'm not the only one who thinks trying on underwear is kinda weird?

Brain vacation

I'm having one of those weeks where I can't seem to accomplish anything at all.  Truth be told I have a lot of those weeks, but that is why I haven't posted in a week.  I've had laundry to do that I can't seem to remember.  It doesn't help that I knew I was low on detergent, and yet made a trip to Target totally forgetting to buy more.  A co-worker of C's who likes our kids is coming to babysit on Saturday.  And instead of keeping the house picked up so I don't have to bust my ass cleaning all day Saturday, I've let it slowly collect more and more crap so that I more than likely will have to bust my ass cleaning all day Saturday.  It is now almost 3 pm, I've been telling myself all day that I would start cleaning the downstairs.  And I've accomplished exactly...2 loads of that laundry (which originated upstairs.)  And now, here I am, writing a blog post instead of doing anything productive. 

Further proof that my brain is not functioning on all cylinders...on Tuesdays the boys get out of school at 1:40 instead of 3:20.  It is this way every week as it has always been, even at their old school Thursday was an early day.  At 2:00 on Tuesday the phone rang, I see it's from the school, I think "Oh great, who's sick/got in trouble/what dumb recorded message do I have to listen to now?"  Then I hear the office lady's voice "Mrs. Fischer, it's Tuesday."  CRAP, CRAP, CRAP.  (And, um, no, this is not the first time this has happened, not even the first time this year, and likely won't be the last. But, but, but...I only did it once last year and that was at the beginning when I wasn't yet used to a different day, or maybe it was twice last year, I can't remember.  And I've only done it twice, er maybe 3 times, this year.  That's not bad, right?  Right?  There's always other kids wiating in the office too, so I can't be the only one.)

Eh, who needs to be on top of things?  Cleanliness and organization is overrated.  And having my kids come home after school is highly overrated.

P.S.
In case anyone might be wondering how E is doing after poor Harry's demise.  We had a small funeral for him on Saturday morning and buried him in the yard.  We put roses from our rose bushes on his grave and E made a grave marker for him.  He was sad, but that didn't keep him from obsessing over how soon we could get to the store to get a new hamster.

And so, off to Petco we went, and came home with a new little rodent.  E wasn't so happy about him at first, he was quite skittish and didn't want to be touched, much different from Harry who was very sweet and enjoyed being held. We gave him the name Zeus in honor of E's current obsession with Greek mythology.  He bit me, he bit E.  BUT, all is well now.  He has calmed down and will allow the kids to hold and pet him.  He loves running on the wheel, and destroying the cage every couple days.  He's darn quick though, if he ever gets loose I don't think we'll ever catch him!  Which may be good, because if he ever got loose Abby the dog would love to "play"!   

Goodbye Harry

Yesterday was a blah, boring, just want to take a nap kind of day.  I never got around to posting about anything, and probably wouldn't have come up with anything to say anyway.

And today I'm here to say goodbye to Harry the Hamster.

This morning I was woken by E bursting in my room saying he saw Harry laying in the cage and not moving and asking if that meant he was dead.  I get up to go check it out, as we're walking to the boys room E says that Harry was cold too.  Oh great, I think, how did the fates know I wanted to start my day with a lesson in pet mortality.  And sure enough Harry is laying in the middle of the cage, all stretched out, stiff as a board, eyes closed, cold, and very much dead.

As soon as I pronounced the fate of E's poor hamster he says "Is there such thing as getting a new one from Petco?  Will I have to pay for it with my own money?"  Gee kid, the poor animal hasn't been gone but a few hours and you're wanting to replace him?  How's that for loyalty, remind me not to die, ok?

So, rest in peace Harry (formerly known as Cupcake.)  We didn't know you long (just 2 months since E's birthday,) but you were cute and cuddly and very nice as far as hamsters go.  We will miss you.

Going in a different direction

I don't really consider this a dysfunction, it's actually useful, a talent almost..albeit not one most people would boast about.  But me?  I don't have many talents, so why not celebrate the ones that I do.  I'm sure there are others who have this ability, I'm just the only one in my house.  You see, I have a 6th sense.  A bad milk sense. 

You know how gross it is to pour a glass of milk and take a big chug only to find out it's gone bad and is totally disgusting and makes you want to puke.  Well, I can tell when milk is just on the cusp of starting to go bad.  I can smell and taste the difference instantly, no matter how small. 

This morning I had to dump almost half a gallon of milk because of this.  Normally I consider this ability a good thing, but on the other hand, it really kind of sucks.  Milk is expensive!

I'm so sick of myself

Today's post will fall under the heading of "self-loathing".  I've spoken many times about my issues with my weight and how it seems that no matter how many times I try I keep failing.  I understand that since I'm still trying that's a good thing, I understand that it's only when you totally give up that you're really failing.  But I can't look at myself in the mirror and accept that because occasionally I get my fat ass up and move around or eat less at dinner that I'm not failing.

Yes, I have lost somewhere around 20-23 lbs, depending on the day.  But that is a drop in the bucket and simply not good enough.  For the past 4 months I have been stuck right in this spot, not gaining or losing, just coasting.  Sure, it could be worse...but I want better.

It has never been more apparent to me than in the past week just how screwed up my head is when it comes to this weight loss stuff.  A week and a half ago I decided I was tired of this maintaining crap and I was going to work really hard for the remaining 3 weeks of April and lose at least the 8 lbs left to make it to 30 lbs lost.  I was motivated and ready to get going.  So what happened instead?  I immediately did nothing but crave sugar, lots and lots of sugar.  It's like there's a disconnect between my brain and my body.  My brain is screaming at me "You shouldn't eat that! You do not want to eat that! Stop eating that!"  But my body is picking up the crap and shoveling it in my mouth as if it were the last food I would ever get to eat.  Like no matter how much I don't want to eat the sugar I'm going to anyway.  The more determined I am to be good and do the right things, the more I cannot control my body's intense addiction to sugar.

I HATE that, it is SO messed up.  What I want more than anything is in my power to have, and yet I will not allow myself to have it.  It is supremely irritating and I am so annoyed with myself.

Still recovering

This weekend my oldest son had a sleepover on Saturday and my younger son had a playdate on Sunday.  It was awful...for me.  I don't particularly enjoy having extra children around.  Ok, without their parents I don't enjoy it.  It's great to have friends of mine/ours over hanging out and our kids are playing together, that's fun.  At least I can try to ignore my own kids by having a conversation with someone else, and they can discipline their own kids.  But kids here by themselves, ugh.  They are always too loud and obnoxious for me, makes me feel like a grumpy, crotchety old lady. 

I don't like feeling like a grumpy, crochety old lady. 

Because of this I avoid these kind of get togethers as much as possible.  This weekend, it wasn't possible, one was asked of me by the mother and begged of me by the child...the other I thought was going to mean sending my kid off to someone else's house, a thought I was quite wrong about.  There was a lot of noise, and lot of pushing of the behavioral boundaries, and not a lot of sleep.  Which meant when all was said and done there was a lot of crying and whining and rule breaking.  So as much as I don't enjoy the actual event, the fallout is even worse.

So, I didn't get to post this weekend, and I'm too tired and have too much of a headache to come up with anything interesting to write today.  I guess I could just call this my daily dysfunction, being a parent who wants my kids to be sociably and have friends, but doesn't want those friends to come to my home.

Creepy cashiers

I don't like them, they make me...uncomfortable.

I have 3 redheads so I get my fair share of comments and conversations with random people walking around grocery stores or Target or wherever about their hair or how cute they are.  I am also a person that people tend to stop and ask things of.  "Have you ever used this?" "Can you reach that on the top shelf, I'm too short."  "What would you buy for a boy/girl turing X years old?"  Depending on my mood that day or how often I have to stop during one trip I generally don't mind all that too much.

But the creepy cashiers get to me.  The ones who start asking you questions or begin some personal story that doesn't seem relevant to the act of ringing up groceries or taking too much of an interest in your kids.  I guess it's because you're kind of stuck there with them at the mercy of how quickly they can move all of your purchases along the conveyor belt (while they are taking too much time to talk to you.)  You can't just walk away or ignore them or pretend like you have to hurry your kid to the bathroom.  Even the smiling and nodding your head like you care all the while thinking about what you're making for dinner or the latest American Idol episode is a bit more difficult when you are standing face to face with someone only 2 feet away.  There is a fine line between being friendly and being creepy people, stay on the right side of the line!

I had a creepy cashier today.  He kept smiling and waving at Katelyn, saying she was a silly girl.  She looked at him strangely, as well she should have.  My hand was near her and she thought I was going to tickle her so she told me I couldn't, and the guy says "Can I tickle you?"  Then she looked at him like 'you're a gross old man'...as well she should have.

I don't wanna!!!

Said in my best 2 year old tantrum throwing, whining, yelling, kicking, throwing things voice.

That is how I've felt every morning this week.  I decided that starting Monday I was going to get up early to exercise.  I was tired of having too many other things get in the way later in the morning and ending up skipping it day after day. 

The problem is, my kids wake up at the crack of dawn and start stomping or shouting or crying or asking for things practically as soon as their eyelids open.  Which means I have to be on them every 30 seconds for quiet because my husband doesn't go to bed at a normal time and doesn't appreciate noise when he is sleeping.  I do not appreciate having to do that AND workout at the same time.  So getting up early for me means getting up extra early so I can finish before the natives get restless.

Even though I decided that's what I wanted to do and it was my completely my choice...I am still not happy about it.  Not happy at all.  Every time the dang alarm goes off I am screaming in my head that I DO NOT WANT TO GET OUT OF BED!!  It doesn't matter that I won't be able to sleep anymore, I just don't want to get up.  Period.  I did on Monday and today, but Tuesday and Wednesday the toddler in my head won.

Weight loss self-sabotage...  If there is one dysfunction I wish I could get rid of for good it's that one!

One from last night

Today's dysfunction actually happened last night, however, I am still feeling the effects of it today so it counts.  Last night I hurt my wrist.  How did I do this?  By getting up off the couch. 

Yeah, I know you're jealous.  It takes a special kind of talent to hurt your arm in the process of standing up...and I?  Am so totally that talented!

It was a very strange series of events that I'm still not exactly sure how it all happened.  I went to stand up and put my hand on the arm of the couch.  For some reason I had my hand fist down instead of palm down.  As I was about halfway up my wrist suddenly gave out bending under and forcing a good portion of my weight onto it.  About a split second after that, I have no idea why, my right knee gave out, thus forcing almost all of my weight onto my bent under wrist.  I almost fell to the floor on my ass at that point, but somehow managed to catch myself enough on my injured arm to allow my working left leg to get under me so I could stand up.  It was one of those really fast, but happening in slow motion, couldn't do it again if you tried kind of things.

So now I have strained muscles from pretty much my knuckles to my elbow...all from standing up.

Reverse ingestion of the canine variety

I apologize to those of you with sensitive stomachs, if you're eating you may want to come back later.  My dysfunction of the day has to do with dog puke.  It totally skeeves me out.  Why is this a dysfunction?  Well, because I'm a mother of 3, I worked with toddlers and preschoolers as a career, and I spent a majority of my young years doing some sort of babysitting or other childcare.  I'm not a germophobe in the least.  Dirt, blood, snot, and other things coming from small human bodies really don't phase me much.  I've changed a lot of diapers in my life...A LOT.  I used cloth diapers on my daughter where you have no choice but to get rid of the poo instead of wrapping it up and forgetting about it like most do.  I have a son who projectile vomitted entire feedings, several times a day, for months.  Not that I enjoy cleaning any of these things up, quite the opposite, however they don't gross me out beyond belief.  And don't forget I am a doula, birth is quite messy and that doesn't bother me in the least. 

But the dog is another story.  I know it's kinda the same thing, but yet, it is totally not the same thing.  I hate finding dog puke...because that means I have to clean it up.  Sometimes (just a few times, really) I've pretended I didn't see it and hope that my husband notices soon enough so that HE can clean it up.  (And when he doesn't it really irritates me because then I have to.)  When I'm forced to clean it myself I have to use 5 times the amount of paper towels necessary because I don't want any chance of it touching my skin.  And even if none does I have to scrub my hands like I'm preparing for surgery.  About 2 weeks ago I threw away a kids book that she had puked on because there was just no way to get it clean enough that it would be ok for anyone to ever touch it again.

This morning I was laid down on my bed after suddenly feeling overwhelmingly tired.  K played in my room while I lay there in and out of sleep for about a half hour.  Then I moved my foot and felt something wet.  Um, WHAT IS THAT?  I hoped as much as one can hope that someone left a wet towel on the bed, even though I had just been staring at the bed for a while folding clothes and putting them away and knew there was no chance of that.  Grudgingly I get up and find under the blanket a wonderful gift from the dog.  She refuses to jump on the bed by herself, so she must have done it sometime this morning after I got out of bed but before C got up.  So now not only am I grossed out because my foot touched dog puke and I have to clean it up, but now I have even more laundry to do and I'm cursing my husband's ability to sleep like the dead.

For the record, I'm not a fan of what comes out the other end either.  When I take her for a walk and have to clean THAT up, I feel dirty until I can get home and scrub my hands.  If there is no trash nearby and I have to carry the bag for a long time, it really grosses me out.  I should start carrying hand sanitizer.

I promise to try and make the next one something less disgusting.

I haven't disappeared

Despite the fact that I haven't posted in over 4 months, I am still around.  What have I been up to?  Taking the boys back and forth to school, keeping up with their homework, walking the dog, making dinner (or lunch, breakfast, whatever), laundry...just the usual stuff.  I also decided to delve back into the doula world and re-took a training class and did a bunch of stuff to get my business back up and running.  Although my initial excitement and forward momentum is pretty much gone.  Last time I had some client contacts right away and it was easier to get started.  This time I don't have that, and I have more work (and children) at home and less energy in me to get out of the house to do anything to help promote myself.  So I'm struggling with myself over feeling like I finally know what I'd like to do with my life, but not having the self-confidence to actually do it.

Anyway...

I've been wanting to get back into blogging for a while now, but it just seems like any time I sit down to write a post I am so bored by myself I fall asleep get halfway through and think "this is just stupid, nobody will want to read that"...and so I hit delete.

Last week, though, I did have some inspiration that came to me via the Pioneer Woman, in this post of hers.  It's about some products from a company called Knock, Knock.  They have a journal that I LOVED the cover of, it's funny stuff.  If you don't want to click on the link this is what it says ...

"A journal for chronicling my immeasurably fascinating dysfunctions, neuroses, emotions, inner children, moments of shame and doubt, projection, self-loathing, misanthropy, and completely normal insanity, because the only difference between me and the rest of the population is that I acknowledge how crazy I am and they're all in mind-numbing denial." 

I decided that their cover description was so perfect I'm going to attempt to post a "Daily Dysfuntion".  I may even order the journal to get some more inspiration from the quotes and whatnot.  I'll start tomorrow, because my daily dysfuntion for pretty much everyday today is - procrastination!  I may not be good at many things, but I am an expert at procrastinating!