It's President's Day, a Monday, and I am sitting home alone. Okay, so the dog is here, perhaps slightly different. My daughter is in her aftercare program and my husband is at the dentist. I already had breakfast with a friend and have time before I must leave the house to achieve other things. Wait, is this that "Free time," thing I've heard about?
I never have days like this and I mean, maybe once a year at best do I have a day to myself. No child popping in and out or reading my blogging behind me, asking what games are on my computer, or can I get her a snack. No husband asking what I want to do, what should we do or what we "have" to do. Just...time. This is uncomfortable!
I always have plans. There is always something to do! But I cleaned a lot this weekend. I reorganized. I sorted cookies. My robovac is working for me right now. The dog is walked. There is always laundry, but that would only take a few minutes later.
Seriously, what should I do with myself? I could paint a shelf that my daughter has demanded, but that's not actually super essential. I could reorganize some stuff. Also not necessary. So for now I'm lounging on my couch writing this.
I've had friends brag to me about boredom and free time and to me, those luxuries are the stuff of dreams, like when I dream about naps. Oh! Maybe I can take a nap! That would be the best day ever.
Free time just isn't something that happens for me so I kind of think of it as some kind of mystical miracle like, it COULD happen but probably won't. And also, my free time often consists of doing all the other things I just never have time for otherwise. Like shopping for grout cleaner, or getting new wiper blades, or cleaning an otherwise ignored area of my house.
Tomorrow I go back to all kinds of normal routines so I'm definitely just feeling like, "Well I'm going to enjoy this. Yes I am!"
I was able to sneak a nap, although that may have backfired because I'm tired again, but mostly I was forced by other moms and people who know me best to slow down, enjoy the free time and just be for once. I think this goes along with that relaxing thing. I suck at it.
I'm truly the worst there is when it comes to doing anything for myself but considering I'm in some pain from boot camp, it's still quiet and I'm kid free for another few hours, I'm going to do my best to enjoy this whole "free time" thing and I shall even stop typing away. Back to regular stuff tomorrow!
Monday, February 18, 2019
Sunday, February 17, 2019
I Am A Serial Plant Killer
I just finished devouring all of The Ted Bundy Tapes on Netflix and while, as an American, I'm naturally intrigued by serial killers and love crime drama type things, it has brought to light my own issues, which include my penchant for killing plants. I am a serial killer...of plants.
This isn't a malicious thing. I don't hunt and attack the plants. But if you give me a plant to water and care for, I will kill it. I mean, come and look at my yard. I'm the complete opposite of any kind of green thumb at all. I'm the black thumb...black death.
My problem is, I don't really care about plants, and again it's not like I want to purposefully hurt them, they just aren't on my radar. I keep my dog and my kid alive and healthy. The same just cannot be said for plants.
I haven't been given many plants, but I inevitably kill them all. I have at least a dozen that have met their demise under my care. I do okay with a bouquet of flowers but those are eventually supposed to die so I feel no remorse there. In the past few years though, I have received too many plants that have not survived me.
After the car accident people gave us a few "Our thoughts are with you" types of plants. These were simple grocery store or Lowe's garden section plants. Nothing impressive really, but they barely lasted a week. I forget to water. Or I over-water, or they get no air or sunlight. They are neglected. Even outdoor plants get neglected. Why water them? Ever heard of rain?
It was about a year and a half ago when we had a house warming that a church friend gave me a "mother-in-law" or snake plant type thing and said, "Don't worry, this thing is actually hard to kill." This one lasted the longest of any plant that I have received but I did, eventually, kill it. I think it was able to live with me about 7 months. Never would I claim that this plant thrived.
I even consciously wanted to keep that damned plant alive with no luck! The plants hate me, we just do not get along.
And now for my daughter's birthday my cousin got her something super cool, interactive and thoughtful...succulents. I think we may have already lost one or two. I've replanted with proper soil and am watering, sunning and trying, but I have made no promises to these plants. I fear the worst.
I watch other people who love plants and I'm in awe. I feel like I lack that capacity to adore and care for plant life. I can match outfits, arrange, organize, file, clean, type, write, even sew, but things involving plants are just not my forte. If it were up to me, we wouldn't even have a yard, just a huge screened enclosure with firepit, grill, and hot tub. Not kidding.
I love nature. I was raised in nature and with a deep respect for nature and it seems I may be one of the only people in my entire family who has no interest in caring for plant life and keeping it happy and alive. I have seriously and serially killed all plants that have come into contact with me. I may not be Bundy-style deranged and psychopathic but these poor plants have never even seen it coming!
Perhaps I'm too focused on my own personal growth!
This isn't a malicious thing. I don't hunt and attack the plants. But if you give me a plant to water and care for, I will kill it. I mean, come and look at my yard. I'm the complete opposite of any kind of green thumb at all. I'm the black thumb...black death.
My problem is, I don't really care about plants, and again it's not like I want to purposefully hurt them, they just aren't on my radar. I keep my dog and my kid alive and healthy. The same just cannot be said for plants.
I haven't been given many plants, but I inevitably kill them all. I have at least a dozen that have met their demise under my care. I do okay with a bouquet of flowers but those are eventually supposed to die so I feel no remorse there. In the past few years though, I have received too many plants that have not survived me.
After the car accident people gave us a few "Our thoughts are with you" types of plants. These were simple grocery store or Lowe's garden section plants. Nothing impressive really, but they barely lasted a week. I forget to water. Or I over-water, or they get no air or sunlight. They are neglected. Even outdoor plants get neglected. Why water them? Ever heard of rain?
It was about a year and a half ago when we had a house warming that a church friend gave me a "mother-in-law" or snake plant type thing and said, "Don't worry, this thing is actually hard to kill." This one lasted the longest of any plant that I have received but I did, eventually, kill it. I think it was able to live with me about 7 months. Never would I claim that this plant thrived.
I even consciously wanted to keep that damned plant alive with no luck! The plants hate me, we just do not get along.
And now for my daughter's birthday my cousin got her something super cool, interactive and thoughtful...succulents. I think we may have already lost one or two. I've replanted with proper soil and am watering, sunning and trying, but I have made no promises to these plants. I fear the worst.
I watch other people who love plants and I'm in awe. I feel like I lack that capacity to adore and care for plant life. I can match outfits, arrange, organize, file, clean, type, write, even sew, but things involving plants are just not my forte. If it were up to me, we wouldn't even have a yard, just a huge screened enclosure with firepit, grill, and hot tub. Not kidding.
I love nature. I was raised in nature and with a deep respect for nature and it seems I may be one of the only people in my entire family who has no interest in caring for plant life and keeping it happy and alive. I have seriously and serially killed all plants that have come into contact with me. I may not be Bundy-style deranged and psychopathic but these poor plants have never even seen it coming!
Perhaps I'm too focused on my own personal growth!
Saturday, February 16, 2019
I Heart Routines
Vacations, weekends away, visitors coming and going, adventures and such are super duper fun. They are the best; wonderful exhaustion. But I am a person in love with my routines.
My dad came to stay with us for two weeks which was awesome, because we had a lot of help with stuff around the house, but sharing your space is tough, no matter who you are. And I certainly know he was ready to go home by the time he left.
Disrupted routines are difficult for me, even though I'm so "resilient" because I'm such a creature of habit. This isn't to just admit that I'm uptight and unwavering, also attributes I have, but just saying that "going with the flow" only takes me so far. At the end of it all, I just hit a wall where I wanted to not be afraid to walk around my house in just underwear if I was rushing, not have to feel the need to "engage" and "entertain" and eat popcorn in my bead while watching too much Netflix.
There were also really silly things I couldn't indulge in, like face masks and hair tweezing, when you have company. Those are like, before bed things, not things to do when you have guests.
I always forget how much children need their routines too. My daughter was just all over the place. Every morning my daughter rushed to check on grandpa, have breakfast with grandpa, talk to grandpa. And the evenings were about time with grandpa too. She had so much fun bonding with him, but needed her run of the mill routines to keep her grounded. This all happened around her birthday, too. What a whirlwind.
For me, it always amazes me how I can share my space well with "my people" but with others, everything irritates me. Like I have some secret space for endless patience and understanding with anyone related to me, like immediate family, but anyone else pushes me over the edge.
My visit with my dad was good and productive. He hadn't been to see the "new" house and I think he taught hubby a few things about using what you have around the house to make what you need, and making it "look pretty" can come after. It's function and frugality over what looks best, especially on a budget.
It was most important to me that she have some adolescent time with her grandpa. I feel like she's finally old enough to do more stuff. She's interactive, she's fun, she's smart, super aware and hilarious. Even with the six year old maintenance, she's mostly a precious joy...mostly.
Luna, much like her mother, needs a picture of her day, she needs to stick to the same routine and plan, and deviating from it can be difficult. Some leniency with this can come with age, but for now she needs her schedule.
Currently she just had a major meltdown and hit a wall. She is decompressing in the tub and we had to rearrange activities. I was the one easiest to say, "Go with the flow," for this change of plans and the little one brought out all the "hurting my feelings" and "breaking my heart" lines to sway us differently.
Sometimes you have to give up, stay home and reboot to be able to kick off the great routines again. This goes along with saying no to certain things and saying yes to others; to being a little anti-social and a little more self-care conscious.
Routines are my favorite and I love them dearly. I hold them close in the chaos. I open up the forum to hear about yours, what works for you, and what rocks the boat a bit too much. Because I will forever heart my routines.
My dad came to stay with us for two weeks which was awesome, because we had a lot of help with stuff around the house, but sharing your space is tough, no matter who you are. And I certainly know he was ready to go home by the time he left.
Disrupted routines are difficult for me, even though I'm so "resilient" because I'm such a creature of habit. This isn't to just admit that I'm uptight and unwavering, also attributes I have, but just saying that "going with the flow" only takes me so far. At the end of it all, I just hit a wall where I wanted to not be afraid to walk around my house in just underwear if I was rushing, not have to feel the need to "engage" and "entertain" and eat popcorn in my bead while watching too much Netflix.
There were also really silly things I couldn't indulge in, like face masks and hair tweezing, when you have company. Those are like, before bed things, not things to do when you have guests.
I always forget how much children need their routines too. My daughter was just all over the place. Every morning my daughter rushed to check on grandpa, have breakfast with grandpa, talk to grandpa. And the evenings were about time with grandpa too. She had so much fun bonding with him, but needed her run of the mill routines to keep her grounded. This all happened around her birthday, too. What a whirlwind.
For me, it always amazes me how I can share my space well with "my people" but with others, everything irritates me. Like I have some secret space for endless patience and understanding with anyone related to me, like immediate family, but anyone else pushes me over the edge.
My visit with my dad was good and productive. He hadn't been to see the "new" house and I think he taught hubby a few things about using what you have around the house to make what you need, and making it "look pretty" can come after. It's function and frugality over what looks best, especially on a budget.
It was most important to me that she have some adolescent time with her grandpa. I feel like she's finally old enough to do more stuff. She's interactive, she's fun, she's smart, super aware and hilarious. Even with the six year old maintenance, she's mostly a precious joy...mostly.
Luna, much like her mother, needs a picture of her day, she needs to stick to the same routine and plan, and deviating from it can be difficult. Some leniency with this can come with age, but for now she needs her schedule.
Currently she just had a major meltdown and hit a wall. She is decompressing in the tub and we had to rearrange activities. I was the one easiest to say, "Go with the flow," for this change of plans and the little one brought out all the "hurting my feelings" and "breaking my heart" lines to sway us differently.
Sometimes you have to give up, stay home and reboot to be able to kick off the great routines again. This goes along with saying no to certain things and saying yes to others; to being a little anti-social and a little more self-care conscious.
Routines are my favorite and I love them dearly. I hold them close in the chaos. I open up the forum to hear about yours, what works for you, and what rocks the boat a bit too much. Because I will forever heart my routines.
Friday, February 15, 2019
The Soundtrack Of Our Lives
I'm one of those people who believes that "music is the soundtrack of our lives." I can remember an exact moment when a song was everything to me, and silly moments around music too, yet somehow I forget why I walked into the room and sometime, just to eat lunch. This is my ridiculous truth.
This morning I had to switch cars with my husband. His is, as I so lovingly put it, "A beater car," with an old 6-CD changer. So he has since raided our CD cases and snuck in some memorable classics for my commute.
Years ago for Valentine's day I made him a mix. That thing might be 14 years old but it has so many of "our songs." What's funny is just the other day I was listening to a song by Coldplay and was immediately taken back to sneaking out of the house for a "walk" with my walkman-discman thingy and going under this HUGE willow tree to sneak cigarettes when I was still living with my dad.
So when my husband perfectly planted this mix to play, I totally had all the flash backs and all the feels. Mostly because music is so versatile. If you put on an album you were obsessed with 15 years ago, I guarantee it will speak to new levels and old if you rock on with it today. Some things are timeless.
Now I'm also that person whose love for music is far more lyric-based than melody based. I legitimately feel that Simon and Garfunkel is serious poetry and, although I love the melody and beats also, the words are everything to me. This often gets me a bad rap for loving all the "sad" or "weird" songs.
As much as I wanted to be a Punk Rock Princess in my late teens, I was far too little to get beat up in the most pits and living in the Pacific Northwest at the time left me ripe for the Indie music scene. So, with my punk rock buddies and boyfriends, I was always the girl exposing the new indie talents to them, whether they liked it or not.
I made my then-boyfriend-now-husband appreciate Death Cab for Cutie on an entirely different level. To this day we still see them live and can always agree on listening to their albums if we can agree on nothing else that day. Our big wedding song was "I Will Follow You Into The Dark," most likely their most infamous hit.
This morning I had to switch cars with my husband. His is, as I so lovingly put it, "A beater car," with an old 6-CD changer. So he has since raided our CD cases and snuck in some memorable classics for my commute.
Years ago for Valentine's day I made him a mix. That thing might be 14 years old but it has so many of "our songs." What's funny is just the other day I was listening to a song by Coldplay and was immediately taken back to sneaking out of the house for a "walk" with my walkman-discman thingy and going under this HUGE willow tree to sneak cigarettes when I was still living with my dad.
So when my husband perfectly planted this mix to play, I totally had all the flash backs and all the feels. Mostly because music is so versatile. If you put on an album you were obsessed with 15 years ago, I guarantee it will speak to new levels and old if you rock on with it today. Some things are timeless.
Now I'm also that person whose love for music is far more lyric-based than melody based. I legitimately feel that Simon and Garfunkel is serious poetry and, although I love the melody and beats also, the words are everything to me. This often gets me a bad rap for loving all the "sad" or "weird" songs.
As much as I wanted to be a Punk Rock Princess in my late teens, I was far too little to get beat up in the most pits and living in the Pacific Northwest at the time left me ripe for the Indie music scene. So, with my punk rock buddies and boyfriends, I was always the girl exposing the new indie talents to them, whether they liked it or not.
I made my then-boyfriend-now-husband appreciate Death Cab for Cutie on an entirely different level. To this day we still see them live and can always agree on listening to their albums if we can agree on nothing else that day. Our big wedding song was "I Will Follow You Into The Dark," most likely their most infamous hit.
Most people complain that this is a "depressing" song but hubby and I agreed it was darkly gorgeous, succinct and real. Both of us have struggled and will always struggle with our faith and to us, this song was just raw truth in love and partnership. Of course this song made the mix and I listened to it on the drive in this morning, singing right along.
Music will always be my most wonderful and faithful companion and spans so many genres for me. Hubby also unearthed an old mix from an ex-roommate and I instantly remembered the origin of it and how much I loved it from the moment when it was burned onto that CD.
Among other CDs available for me to listen were Matchbook Romance, which made me want my old pink "Chucks" on, and the soundtrack to Across The Universe, an epic movie set to Beatles Music, followed by the ever amazing band, Cake.
It's so wonderfully funny when you hear certain music and think "I completely forgot about this band, song, album, mix, etc!" I slowed down and just remembered all the moments associated with the tunes and felt grateful for the soundtrack.
Hubby and I have the 10 year mark looming for our engagement and wedding anniversary, but I'm not going to sit here and act like it's been cupcakes and rainbows. Sometimes it's music like the songs on the mix that remind you of how far we've come and what we can push through. Musical reminders are super important, in my humble opinion.
There are some tried and true musicians that have kept me sane over the years, no doubt about that, but any band that I love is definitely part of my life's soundtrack, my story and probably contributed some kind of theme song to my days.
I have made friends through music in more ways than one. I have kept close friendships through music as well and I seriously wish I could be a professional concert-goer and make money from it. One of the best times of my life was writing reviews for Creative Loafing and getting to go to free shows. I saw so many bands I would have never been able to afford and had a blast taking it all in.
For me, music is the soundtrack of my life through the good memories and the bad. It has gotten me through the best of times and the worst of times and is an epic anti-depressant, therapeutic healer, and friend for the lonely times. I'll probably write about this over and over, but to me, it cannot be stressed, exclaimed and explained enough! Rock on, readers!
Thursday, February 14, 2019
Valentine's Day In Motherhood
Valentine's day used to be one of those holidays girls wrapped all their hopes and dreams into. I for one much prefer Galentine's Day lately. But here's why today rocked. There were no super surprises. No flowers, diamonds or over the top luxuries. But today was my daughter's Kindergarten Grandparent's/Valentine's Day show. And it was amazing.
My husband and I did the normal card exchange but because of the afternoon show, and it being my dad's last day in town, we snuck a lunch with my dad in tow, before the big production. Then off to the show we went!
My daughter had been threatening to not sing. Boy did she mean business! She paid close attention. She focused on her teachers and the commands. She knew every hand gesture and pantomime. She did not sing. Stone-faced she stood there. And occasionally smiled and waved at us. She had this adorable and ridiculous embarrassed grin. I loved it.
In other news for today I was able to leave work early and now have my dad doing finishing touches in my daughter's room for her many requests and I'm relaxing in the quiet before the rest of the day unfolds. I'm still full from lunch.
Today I got to be a real, live Valentine's day mom. I got Luna the card. Hubby got her the chocolates. I was at the school event with the other grandparents and parents, on time and ready to watch it. I smiled and waved and sang all the words. I blew kisses and laughed and loved watching her in action. I didn't even cry!
Valentine's Day used to be a huge thing for hubby and I, but since he's been a chef, he always works tonight. They are fully booked with reservations the next 3 nights. I for one am happy going to bed early with my little love happy in a chocolate coma in the next room and ready to send my dad back to Oregon with a great trip in the books.
But as a mom, I always feel like I'm lacking. Maybe all moms feel that in one way or another but I always feel bad being that working mom. I don't take time off for every little thing so that when days like today come along I can be there and pay attention.
I saw all the adorable Facebook posts of love. I've seen all the Instagram posts of love as well. And it was funny because where I used to make sure to loathe all of it and feel so very inferior and less than, this year I'm generally happy for everyone who is making the most out of this holiday. I even saw a "Friendaversary" of today on Facebook with a guy and his girlfriend of about one year. YAY! How cute is that?
And I know that for some single people today blows. It can feel super triggery and overwhelming, but let me just say, us married people don't have it all together either. Essentially it's just another day. But, if you can find some love and some big red hearts out there for today, Valentine's day can be less "Bleh," which I know some of you have felt.
For me it wasn't romantic love at all, but motherhood and being a part of something seemingly mundane and boring that meant everything. Perhaps you can find something like that too. Happy Valentine's Day readers!!
My husband and I did the normal card exchange but because of the afternoon show, and it being my dad's last day in town, we snuck a lunch with my dad in tow, before the big production. Then off to the show we went!
My daughter had been threatening to not sing. Boy did she mean business! She paid close attention. She focused on her teachers and the commands. She knew every hand gesture and pantomime. She did not sing. Stone-faced she stood there. And occasionally smiled and waved at us. She had this adorable and ridiculous embarrassed grin. I loved it.
In other news for today I was able to leave work early and now have my dad doing finishing touches in my daughter's room for her many requests and I'm relaxing in the quiet before the rest of the day unfolds. I'm still full from lunch.
Today I got to be a real, live Valentine's day mom. I got Luna the card. Hubby got her the chocolates. I was at the school event with the other grandparents and parents, on time and ready to watch it. I smiled and waved and sang all the words. I blew kisses and laughed and loved watching her in action. I didn't even cry!
Valentine's Day used to be a huge thing for hubby and I, but since he's been a chef, he always works tonight. They are fully booked with reservations the next 3 nights. I for one am happy going to bed early with my little love happy in a chocolate coma in the next room and ready to send my dad back to Oregon with a great trip in the books.
But as a mom, I always feel like I'm lacking. Maybe all moms feel that in one way or another but I always feel bad being that working mom. I don't take time off for every little thing so that when days like today come along I can be there and pay attention.
I saw all the adorable Facebook posts of love. I've seen all the Instagram posts of love as well. And it was funny because where I used to make sure to loathe all of it and feel so very inferior and less than, this year I'm generally happy for everyone who is making the most out of this holiday. I even saw a "Friendaversary" of today on Facebook with a guy and his girlfriend of about one year. YAY! How cute is that?
And I know that for some single people today blows. It can feel super triggery and overwhelming, but let me just say, us married people don't have it all together either. Essentially it's just another day. But, if you can find some love and some big red hearts out there for today, Valentine's day can be less "Bleh," which I know some of you have felt.
For me it wasn't romantic love at all, but motherhood and being a part of something seemingly mundane and boring that meant everything. Perhaps you can find something like that too. Happy Valentine's Day readers!!
Wednesday, February 13, 2019
Under Active Is My Middle Name
My lunch break usually involves Publix. I had to get bananas for the class Valentine's Day party and for the past few visits I've found myself looking at different kinds of pasta as if to accept my fate. You see the Chriss fam moved up a bit in life, we have decent insurance now. So we did what you're supposed to do with insurance and we went to the doctor. And for me that included two blood draws and low levels of something or other that say "Under Active Thyroid."
The official diagnosis is just once test away but I'm already overthinking. Funny how my body under-acheives in some ways and overdrives in other. I'd first heard about this with another mom friend like months ago and lets just say we'll have many talks over wine after all this is said and done.
I did what you should never do and looked on WEB MD. Unfortunately like 10 out of the 12 symptoms are all Alison. Things like "Extreme sensitivity to cold, fatigue, always feeling tired, dry skin, trouble losing weight, depression." It was all just stuff I was used to. I thought that was just who I was now.
Then I saw the "Foods to avoid," section, which may as well be named "All my favorite things." Included were bread, butter, pasta, spinach, kale, brussel sprouts, sugary things and sweets. Yeah I love those all. My husband makes fun of the fact that I believe bread to be a snack!
So I had a blah day feeling really annoyed and inconvenienced, and a little mad at my body. If you've known me since my teen years I have always struggled with weight. In fact my mom announced to my daughter's after care program that I have "weight issues." It was after my daughter was born that I stopped believing I could eat whatever I wanted and taught myself, "You can eat anything you want...in moderation, and you're going to work for it." I finally felt like I had a healthy relationship with food.
And now I have to adjust. Is this part of resilience again? So I'll be trying zucchini, lentil and chickpea pastas, I'll be saying bye to bread in my regular diet, saying goodbye to most sweets, and replacing my spinach and kale addiction with spring mix and other lettuce. But I do feel like if this makes no damned difference, I'd rather just continue my healthy affair with food and exercise as it was established.
You see I'd accepted being uncomfortably cold and I now live in Florida. I've always just been that person that needs 8 hours of sleep to be kind and productive. The dry skin didn't happen until after the baby, but that's what lotion is for. And depression has been around forever. It's not until you look at everything together that it all clicks.
This is a manageable situation for sure, but I am very resistant to western medicine. Maybe I spent too long in Oregon, but I always try to go for natural, holistic methods and ways to deal with my body first, before the drugs get brought in. Yes, I'm that hippie.
I think what bothers me is the dancing around the "diagnosis." I mean is my thyroid under active? Is it on strike? Maybe it's really mad at me. Oh and I also read that stress makes everything much worse. To quote How I Met Your Mother, "Hey, have you met Ted?" I'm the queen of stress. I'm 90% stress and anxiety incarnate!
So I've just been Pinteresting and Googling and talking everything out, trying to get a grasp on this for the next test. I'm fully open to suggestions or commiserations and ready to just know what I'm dealing with but I'm not ready to say no to cupcakes, I will miss bread dearly and thank goodness they make different kinds of vegetable related pasta because I tried the gluten free pasta and that is NOT pasta. Sorry, not sorry.
Maybe this is more of my resilience or maybe that tiredness makes me too exhausted to fight back. Maybe I figure it can't hurt to try and abide by the food restrictions to see if I feel any different. Maybe this is just a part of adulthood. Maybe the test will come back and my thyroid will have gotten its act together. So many maybes!
This week is kind of my last hurrah, like a cheat meal because next week I have to take it all more seriously. I'm sure there will be many more reports of these shenanagins. Please feel free to message me if you have advice or have dealt with this stuff yourself and also, just know that the Under Active Thyroid club apparently has many members. I just feel we should meet at the bar, preferably a taco bar with margaritas.
The official diagnosis is just once test away but I'm already overthinking. Funny how my body under-acheives in some ways and overdrives in other. I'd first heard about this with another mom friend like months ago and lets just say we'll have many talks over wine after all this is said and done.
I did what you should never do and looked on WEB MD. Unfortunately like 10 out of the 12 symptoms are all Alison. Things like "Extreme sensitivity to cold, fatigue, always feeling tired, dry skin, trouble losing weight, depression." It was all just stuff I was used to. I thought that was just who I was now.
Then I saw the "Foods to avoid," section, which may as well be named "All my favorite things." Included were bread, butter, pasta, spinach, kale, brussel sprouts, sugary things and sweets. Yeah I love those all. My husband makes fun of the fact that I believe bread to be a snack!
So I had a blah day feeling really annoyed and inconvenienced, and a little mad at my body. If you've known me since my teen years I have always struggled with weight. In fact my mom announced to my daughter's after care program that I have "weight issues." It was after my daughter was born that I stopped believing I could eat whatever I wanted and taught myself, "You can eat anything you want...in moderation, and you're going to work for it." I finally felt like I had a healthy relationship with food.
And now I have to adjust. Is this part of resilience again? So I'll be trying zucchini, lentil and chickpea pastas, I'll be saying bye to bread in my regular diet, saying goodbye to most sweets, and replacing my spinach and kale addiction with spring mix and other lettuce. But I do feel like if this makes no damned difference, I'd rather just continue my healthy affair with food and exercise as it was established.
You see I'd accepted being uncomfortably cold and I now live in Florida. I've always just been that person that needs 8 hours of sleep to be kind and productive. The dry skin didn't happen until after the baby, but that's what lotion is for. And depression has been around forever. It's not until you look at everything together that it all clicks.
This is a manageable situation for sure, but I am very resistant to western medicine. Maybe I spent too long in Oregon, but I always try to go for natural, holistic methods and ways to deal with my body first, before the drugs get brought in. Yes, I'm that hippie.
I think what bothers me is the dancing around the "diagnosis." I mean is my thyroid under active? Is it on strike? Maybe it's really mad at me. Oh and I also read that stress makes everything much worse. To quote How I Met Your Mother, "Hey, have you met Ted?" I'm the queen of stress. I'm 90% stress and anxiety incarnate!
So I've just been Pinteresting and Googling and talking everything out, trying to get a grasp on this for the next test. I'm fully open to suggestions or commiserations and ready to just know what I'm dealing with but I'm not ready to say no to cupcakes, I will miss bread dearly and thank goodness they make different kinds of vegetable related pasta because I tried the gluten free pasta and that is NOT pasta. Sorry, not sorry.
Maybe this is more of my resilience or maybe that tiredness makes me too exhausted to fight back. Maybe I figure it can't hurt to try and abide by the food restrictions to see if I feel any different. Maybe this is just a part of adulthood. Maybe the test will come back and my thyroid will have gotten its act together. So many maybes!
This week is kind of my last hurrah, like a cheat meal because next week I have to take it all more seriously. I'm sure there will be many more reports of these shenanagins. Please feel free to message me if you have advice or have dealt with this stuff yourself and also, just know that the Under Active Thyroid club apparently has many members. I just feel we should meet at the bar, preferably a taco bar with margaritas.
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
Today's Post Brought To You By Resilience
I have recently been defined as exhibiting resilience, so I Googled the exact definition: the capability of a strained body to recover its size and shape after deformation caused especially by compressive stress; an ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change.
Let's break this down.The capability of a strained body to recover it's size and shape after deformation caused especially by compressive stress. Two words: CAR ACCIDENT.
An ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change? I possess said ability, yes. Adjust easily? Define easily! Easily to misfortune and change? Hmm...I don't recall any of it being done easily but just being done.
I'm not sure how to feel about this being me. In some ways it is complimentary but I can't help struggle with the feeling that I shouldn't have to be so resilient. This is why my new favorite word is wobbly, which is definitely a move from ambivalence, most likely in the right direction.
Some of my easy adjustments to misfortune and change are from exhaustion. Sometimes I can't have that same argument over and over. Some of my adjustments to misfortune and change have come with tantrum, depression and all of them with anxiety. But I put on a good game face, that much is true.
I posted just last night about being that person who can look completely put together while internally just collapsing. You can say something that completely breaks me and my worst response would just be resting bitch face, I just get stone-faced and absorb whatever offensiveness affronts me. Sometimes that feels cowardly, other times I'm just avoiding confrontation like a normal anxious depressive adult.
But lately I just ask myself, is it worth getting upset about? As a woman we are notoriously labeled as nagging, whining, high maintenance beings. It's pretty unfair but sometimes we do live up to the stereotype, sorry to say. But then again, how many times should we have to adjust "easily" and "handle" the misfortune and change.
I've been mistreated, I've been taken for granted, hurt physically, emotionally and spiritually like the rest of us. I've even experienced a degree of sexual assault and yet, I prove my resilience right? Is that a compliment though? To be able to put up with all of this? Maybe we shouldn't have to.
After everything with the #metoo movement it became more clear to me than ever that all women are resilient. We all handle more than our share, and most often with grace and composure, but we shouldn't have to. And this isn't to say that we need to take our resting bitch faces and turn on "the bitch switch." But I feel like we can use our resilience to better ourselves and our world, instead of letting it define us.
I think my issue with resilience is there is a feeling for me, of an underlying "doormat" -sub-context and really it's more about strength and calculation. Most change is difficult but we push our growth and do what we have to as we persevere. Misfortune hits us all, and maybe we need a day to cry and feel all the feelings, but most of us shed our tears and soldier on because we have to.
So while resilience is good, and I'm glad it is said to me as a compliment, I strive for more. I want more growth and evolution. And I'm surely going to use that resilience to get me there!
Let's break this down.The capability of a strained body to recover it's size and shape after deformation caused especially by compressive stress. Two words: CAR ACCIDENT.
An ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change? I possess said ability, yes. Adjust easily? Define easily! Easily to misfortune and change? Hmm...I don't recall any of it being done easily but just being done.
I'm not sure how to feel about this being me. In some ways it is complimentary but I can't help struggle with the feeling that I shouldn't have to be so resilient. This is why my new favorite word is wobbly, which is definitely a move from ambivalence, most likely in the right direction.
Some of my easy adjustments to misfortune and change are from exhaustion. Sometimes I can't have that same argument over and over. Some of my adjustments to misfortune and change have come with tantrum, depression and all of them with anxiety. But I put on a good game face, that much is true.
I posted just last night about being that person who can look completely put together while internally just collapsing. You can say something that completely breaks me and my worst response would just be resting bitch face, I just get stone-faced and absorb whatever offensiveness affronts me. Sometimes that feels cowardly, other times I'm just avoiding confrontation like a normal anxious depressive adult.
But lately I just ask myself, is it worth getting upset about? As a woman we are notoriously labeled as nagging, whining, high maintenance beings. It's pretty unfair but sometimes we do live up to the stereotype, sorry to say. But then again, how many times should we have to adjust "easily" and "handle" the misfortune and change.
I've been mistreated, I've been taken for granted, hurt physically, emotionally and spiritually like the rest of us. I've even experienced a degree of sexual assault and yet, I prove my resilience right? Is that a compliment though? To be able to put up with all of this? Maybe we shouldn't have to.
After everything with the #metoo movement it became more clear to me than ever that all women are resilient. We all handle more than our share, and most often with grace and composure, but we shouldn't have to. And this isn't to say that we need to take our resting bitch faces and turn on "the bitch switch." But I feel like we can use our resilience to better ourselves and our world, instead of letting it define us.
I think my issue with resilience is there is a feeling for me, of an underlying "doormat" -sub-context and really it's more about strength and calculation. Most change is difficult but we push our growth and do what we have to as we persevere. Misfortune hits us all, and maybe we need a day to cry and feel all the feelings, but most of us shed our tears and soldier on because we have to.
So while resilience is good, and I'm glad it is said to me as a compliment, I strive for more. I want more growth and evolution. And I'm surely going to use that resilience to get me there!
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