Depression

I haven't been writing lately because I've been more depressed. I finally went to the dr and got my prescription switched because of the headaches I've been having, and I'm down to only a few HA a week. That's much more do-able. Plus, I got a 'script for celebrex which hopefully will help the foot pain. Hopefully, I'll be able to start exercising again. Yes, that was my latest most long standing excuse for not working out. But it's also the truest, and the most reliable. I'd work out for a few weeks and then slack off because I'd be so sore, among other reasons.

I got weighed today to, which does NOT help my depressed state. I'm back up to 225, with jeans on. But I've been eating just about anything and everything I want. I'm going to try one day at a time. It's such a daily uphill battle. I don't want to fight myself anymore, just the eating disorder. Slowly, I'm beginning to see the difference between me and the ED. Not that I don't still think I'm responsible for it, but I do think that the two are separate; I just could see where one started and one ended for a long time.

So...day by day...hopefully I'll carve out a few minutes each day to write too, it always helps to write down what I'm thinking and feeling. It's the single most useful tool I've learned in therapy. Not that there haven't been other tools, but this one is my favorite.

Biggest Girl in the Room

I often think I'm the biggest girl in the room. Today, I watched a girl I know who has an eating disorder go through the ritual of unwrapping a pack of crackers. Her mannerisms were...interesting. I've done the same sort of thing many times myself when actively dieting. I created rituals to make the process take more time, be more involved, and God only knows why else. I sure don't have it all figured out. It certainly struck a cord with me to watch her. I have a feeling she has also felt like shes the biggest girl in the room. Which makes me think of something else.

I don't WANT to be the one that sticks out in the crowd. Now I think I do stick out in the crowd for being fat, but perhaps the eating/weight gain was related to wanting to hide. However, one of my reasons for wanting to be skinny is to blend in. Hmm. Isn't that ironic? I don't think I losing weight is going to solve all of my problems, or that life is suddenly going to be sunshine and roses. On the contrary, I think I felt worse while I was part of weight watchers. The initial momentum and loss created som euphoria. That was the fun part...but then it wore off. And overall, I felt worse. It was hard work. I had a lot left to lose, body distortion problems, and had lost my favorite coping mechanism.

The idea, of course, is to develop new and improved coping mechanisms. My head gets it. Boy does my head get it. My head is freakin' sick of getting it and not knowing how to follow through. My heart is horrified at the weight gain. If I am developing new and improved coping mechanisms, then why the gaining? I think the therapist would say the disordered thinking is fighting back. Sure it is, it's so deeply ingrained WTF am I (or it) supposed to do? We are entwined. I'm not this eating disorder, and I do think I'm able to recover fully.

In the last year, there have been a number of times where I'm unable to finish a plate of food. This is way out of character for me. To be therapeutic, it's the eating disorder made me do it. Now I'm finding that more and more often I can't finish a plate. That's happened at least 3-4 times this week. I'm bewildered. This big part of me seems to be getting smaller and smaller. I don't know what's going to take it's place. It's scary and more than ever I feel vulnerable, raw, and wide open. A piece of me is leaving, missing, and there is nothing in it's place.

Not my problem

DS's biomom called me last night. She believes DS is holding a grudge against her and that he needs to get over it. What a self-serving selfish biotch! She portrayed herself as the victim in all of this, completely ignoring the fact that she's the one who is responsible for his pain in the first place. Then she comes to me for support. DS shared with us a comment that she made about us. It wasn't negative. It just showed how very threatened by us she really is. I find the mother bear instinct rising up to defend my cub.

I got the impression she wanted me to validate her feelings. I think she wanted me to help her 'gang up' on DS. The problem (for her) is that I don't care how horrible she feels. Plus, DS knows how to get rid of her. She puts too much of her guilt on him and he either can't tell her how he feels or he takes on too much of her guilt. For him, it sucks. He has no voice left. The little comments about us don't help either, he's automatically put in the middle. So he does what always worked to get her to back off--he acts like a jerk. She falls into line, plays the victim and boo hoos to anyone who will listen and blames it all on him. She could choose to give him the space a 16 year old boy wants. She could choose to let him come to her but can't because she's just too CLINGY!

While I hope he could be able to tell her how he feels, she's still not going to listen. She can't possibly hear him. I'm not going to try and make him either. I think he needs to talk to someone other than friends and other than us about all of this. I think he's healthy enough to do one on one counseling. Now if I can convince him...I'd like for him to consider medication again too, winter is so hard for him. Plus he's mentioned that he's been feeling depressed at other times, like mot of the summer. He wants to blame it on the other kids--but that just ain't the case. I doubt if he understands all of the reasons why he's so down.

My poor sweetie.

PSA: Eating with a kitten

1. Stretch well ahead of time
2. Wear long underwear under your pants, remove all strings from the clothing.
3. Consider gloves.
4. re-stretch to make sure you can eat with one hand over your head--this is wear you will be holding your plate.
5. Practice moving the plate or ball back and forth between your hands. Speed counts.
6. Keep a few things handy to toss at the dogs, since they are sure the kitten's prescence near your food is an act of treachary against them.
7. Learn to eat formally hot foods at room temp or better yet, straight out of the fridge. If it stays cold, the aromas may not be as prominant, therefore it might take longer to attract said kitten.
8. Assume you will need a spare set of silverware. You'll probably end up tossing the kitten off of you with fork in your hand. Experienced pet owners won't mind the extra hair.
9. BONUS! Food rubbed off the fork onto the kitten. Now eat as fast as you can while she licks it off of her fur.
10. Don't count on eating standing up. This is why you are wearing long underwear--it helps deter the claws.

Ouch, there's a knife in my back

In all actuality, I don't think the knife is truly in my back. It came from a completely expected source. The hurt feelings come from other sources--all the classmates who believed that I would be such a nasty biotch as to try and get someone kicked out of our program. So, my vent on the Big Fat Liar.

First, you suck. You're not a good nurse. You're completely self-absorbed.
Second, I know why you have so much drama in your life. Bad things happen to you because of karma. Think about it.
Third, you're constant medical dramas are boring the hell out of everyone. NO ONE CARES.
Fourth, duncan hines, cool whip, and cherry pie filling don't equal a black forest cake. You may as well mash 3 different hostess cakes together--your choice be creative! and make ghetto cake.
Fifth, It's not always about you. Truly, there are other people in your surroundings. Try paying attention to them you might surprise yourself.
Sixth, I had a good laugh over you're little card. I debated between laughing and ripping into little pieces and throwing it in your face. You suck.

Wow, that felt good! Amazing what a little venting can accomplish.

Happy Monday

I love Mondays. My one day of the week that I vow to do nothing. I do end up doing stuff, but only when I want to. Sadly, my to do list is lurking in the back of my mind and my Happy Monday is getting a bit depressing.

-renew CPR cert. Call ambulance service to arrange
-work on Kidney project
-order senior pics.
-finish buying Christmas presents for two nephews, a step nephew, and a BIL. Look for a Birthday present for my niece.
-Start planning for the weekend--get wedding present.
-Do budget

It really doesn't look like all that much, except that the drive is 300 miles, and I'll be doing it alone. The family BS will start since I'll be attending along, even though I'm pretty sure the rest of us want to be anywhere else than with the Bridezilla. Too bad she doesn't have the bridezilla excuse the rest of her life.

Food report: I'm happy to say I only had one hard day. I blame the apple dumplings. What triggered the binge? Well...before I analyze that, I'm going to figure out what I all ate.
-three apple dumplings
-1 cup pretzels
-8oz prime rib
-potato with butter/sour cream
1 1/2 pieces of garlic bread
1 1/2 cups of gnocchi with alfredo and chicken
broccoli

So how bad is that? More calories than I need in a day, I'm sure, but volume wise I don't think I can truly qualify this as a binge. Compulsive, yes...again, I blame the dumplings. I've classified sweets as 'bad' and therefore forbidden, therefore something that I'm likely to think about compulsively.

I also struggled with *NOT* working out for three days in a row. I went back and forth in my head, wondering if this was 'bad' or if it was my perfectionist nature kicking in. Okay, I'll face it, it was my perfectionist all or none nature kicking in. It was most 100% definately the part that wants it fixed now nature happening.

Therapist thinks this is going to contribute to the vicious cycle--now I'll feel bad, and this will lead to another binge. Perhaps that was true in the past, but I don't think that's what is happening now. The thoughts are becoming fleeting, and the rebound is quicker.

I'm still not thrilled with food/eating, although Friday night's meal/desert was the first I had been able to enjoy pretty much since I saw the therapist last. Otherwise, it was all just an effort. The dumpling were fun, once I got going, but overall...cooking, something I normally enjoy, has lost it's luster. The feelings are just all mushed up and nasty.

Just a food journal

10/4
McDonald's biscuit-egg-cheese-bacon & hashbrown
Honey nut cheerios/skim milk (2 servings of cereal, one of milk)
Turkey burger
Mixed fruit
Yogurt
coffee/milk
leftover scalloped potato/ham
toast/butter, 2 slices
1/2 cup of cheddar pretzels

10/5
8oz prime rib
french onion soup w/ swiss cheese
broccoli
1/2 large baked potato, 1 butter pat, sour cream
coffee, four creamers
Cold Stone Creamery banana caramel crunch, like it size, 1/3 chocolate dipped waffle cone
6" chicken bacon ranch sub on wheat, with cheese
1 serving bagel chips
cereal (two servings) with skim milk
2 sticks of string cheese

Yoga at 220 is a heck of a lot harder than at 175. The principle of use it or lose it has been drilled home. It's not the first time this principle has hit home for me, but I miss being able to fold myself so easily, and I miss the strength I had in my arms. One of the leftover body distortions I have (hopefully on the way out) is that I thought my arms at 175 looked the same as they did at 232. Logically, I knew there had to be some differences, yet I distorted the image in the mirror quite a bit. My stomach gives me problems with some of the bends, but it's a lot worse now. I feel like I should apologize to my body.

MIL is amazing in this respect. I don't know if she's just naturally hyper, or if it's an effort for her like it has been for me, but she looks amazing for 67 years old, and is in fabulous shape. The woman works out several times a week at "silver sneakers" not to mention all the golfing. No cart, of course. Unless I can make sufficient change, I'm far more likely to be in rotten shape like my father and sister, who get winded walking across the street.

It's time to realize that working out for 3-4 days and then doing nothing for a week or two isn't going to cut it. I wish I could understand why it's so hard to keep motivated. I know I'm not alone. 32 million obese people are right behind me with the same struggles. This, I think, is something I'll need to ponder for awhile.

Can anyone hear me?

Or am I talking--shouting--to the empty air, sky, and universe? It sure doesn't seem like anyone is listening, which makes me wonder if anyone can hear me. My therapist needs to know the following:

I've worked damn hard the last year and half, and you need to take a look at where I've been, and how far I've come if you are going to be remotely close to getting me the rest of the way to my goals. Otherwise, we won't be able to continue this relationship.

First, where I've been:
Wallowing in self-loathing and self-hatred.
Wondering if I'm crazy
Thinking I have to be super mom, super wife, super daughter, super aunt, and super sister.
Depressed when I couldn't live up to any of the above Supers
Living in fear of having Huntington's disease
Grief-filled over our IVF failure

Where I am now:
Liking or loving myself most days
Knowning I'm not crazy
Knowning I'm not a Super woman in any respect, and being thankful that I don't have to live up to any ridiculous standards.
Able to say "no"
Knowing my limits
Having confidence in my abilities, which are many
At peace with our infertility
Still afraid of HD, but not afraid to live
No longer needing constant validation for my existance, being able to provide my own self-validation. This has resulted in appearing to be shy and quiet, but also more geniune.

Right now, I am pissed off--no, I'm well beyond that. Infuriated, shakingly, screaming at the top of my lungs pissed off. The kind of pissed off where I want to break something. Will it do any good? Of course not, but that is what I'm feeling. I come out of therapy feeling weak and helpless. That makes me mad because nothing could be further from the truth. You're trying to sell me on the fact that an eating disorder is a disease. I'm not buying it. It's a problem, yes, and in the sense that it's created physical problems for me....yes, it's a disease. Many diseases have a cure and I'm including this eating disorder in the category of curable diseases. It's not like bipolar disorder or diabetes that can be managed with medication. On the contrary, this is something I started, something that I could count on for comfort at a very specific point in my life. After that it became a habit and I believe other influences on this habit lead to a vicious cycle.

Dieting, for one thing...this lead me to feeling deprived and in a sense lonely for that which once brought me comfort. That in turn lead to binging and compulsive thoughts about food. Find me someone who doesn't think about food compulsively when on a diet! Do they all have an eating disorder? NO OF COURSE NOT!!! I never developed alternative coping mechanisms, which is what my main focus is right now. I have a list of things that feel good to me...including bathes, wine, lattes, massages, pedicures, and shopping. I'm very tactile...that's why this list has so many touchy-feely things on it. These are all very good wonderful things for me. Things that require active effort on my part to make happen. Sometimes I'm good at this, other times I'm not.

The society I live in is food focused. Constant commercials for food, restaurants, dieting, and even a FOOD channel. How on earth can I not think about it? But that is one thing I've been asked to do, and it seems impossible. There is a difference between being obsessive and having 'normal' thoughts about eating and food. Seeing as how I can't survive without it, I don't have a choice now do I? How do I know when my thoughts are 'normal'? What's the metric?

Next we have therapy and the ED program. While not entirely food focused, my eating habits are in the spotlight right now. It feels like the goal of not obsessively thinking about food is in direct odds with keeping a food journal. The end result is that I'm pissed of to the nth degree and really want nothing to do with food. I don't want to cook, which I normally love to do. I don't want to eat, which I obviously love to do. I get mad when I get hungry. It's just a reminder that I have to deal with this yet again, and that I have to find a way of feeding myself something decent, nutritious, loving (loving, LOVING? Are you for freakin' real when you said that part?), oh yeah, but try not to think about it too much, and try to eat before you get TOO hungry, and try to distinguish between emotional and physical hunger. ARE YOU F'ING KIDDING ME?

Let's review what I can do:
-I am the person in charge (mainly) of meal preparation in my home.
-I can tell the difference between emotional and physical hunger, even if I don't always choose to *NOT* eat when the hunger is emotional
-I have a goddamn brain in my head--I can use it
-I can and do practice (with varying regularity) self care in the form of naps, bathes, massages, pedicures, and all the other things I've already mentioned.
-I can break this vicious cycle.

But don't give me conflicting advice. Please, all it does it makes me angry, and makes me think you can't hear what I'm saying. Know that I'm frustrated with how my body looks, and sad that I did this to myself. I'm afraid that I'm wrecked my metabolism, and that how I want to look is not going to be possible. I'm sad, frustrated, and a little scared at the effort it's going to take to get my body strong and healthy again. I'm sad that it came to this. I need support in the active effort to rebuild that strength. I want to have a sex drive again, I want to feel pretty if not sexy in my clothes. I want to be able to wear all of the clothes in my closet.

I want how I feel inside to be reflected on the outside. The outside still looks like how I felt years ago.

Hire a teenager now

Speaking of drama mamas, DS has been a class act in this regard. I'm sick and tired of it. Teenagers are so hard, if I was this hard on my parents I owe them a huge apology. In addition to being unemployed, he's now decided he's too good for the golden arches. Even though he's mom worked there, he's decided it's just not for him. He can't handle the thought of it now that has had a "real" job. Oh yeah, the one he got fired from. It amazes me the lack of cause and effect thinking. Couldn't do the work = fired. They called him back and offered him a lesser position but pride prevented him from taking it. He's hoping to get a job through his non-dating girlfriend. Despite the fact that McDonald's hired him, he's just not willing to work for minimum wage now.
In addition to his workplace snobbery, he's decided that DH and I are "ruining his life" for doing foster care. He had a huge fight this week with one of the boys, after trying to kick another kid out of the house. I really don't care about the other kid getting kicked out by DS, I do care about the fight AND getting blamed for his inability to get along with others. DS's problems with peer relationships, and his lack of tolerance for anyone who doesn't have the exact same opinions, likes, and dislikes as him is becoming an obvious life obstacle for him.



He's claiming depression, perhaps that's true too but he's using it as a crutch. In otherwords, medication, therapy, and/or talking to DH or myself is not an option for him. He will open up to us occasionally, but not enough to make an impact on depression issues. This quarter his grades will be fine, by Christmas they'll take a nose dive and he'll blame seasonal depression as the reason why.



I haven't noticed, but I should talk to beloved and see if we've had these sort of problems around his birthday before. I'm just wondering if there is grief/loss that's triggered by his birthday each year. Totally normal, but he's got to learn to process it in a healthy way. All I'm able to offer is irritation at an unjustified attack. He has the skills and tools to do better--but it's more work, therefore unlikely to be used unless pushed to do so.

inventory

Today's food totals, in backwards order:

• 4 pieces of cheese pizza, from a large pie
• 2 large pieces of german chocolate cake
• 1 'double' cosmo
• 1/2 ham & cheese sand.
• 1 latte
• 1 handful of pretzels
• 1/2 cup of coffee with cream
• 1 egg
• 1 piece of buttered toast
• 1 sausage patty
• 1 cup of hashbrowns

I have no perspective on the amounts...too much? Probably calorically. Too much volume. Maybe a little bit, but this damn headache has me trying anything I can to ignore it. Aspirin, tylenol, and alcohol...also my neck warmer. It felt good, but it didn't get rid of it 100% of the way.

This week starts the 6th week of classes. I'm almost 1/2 way done with the semester. It's getting easier. The demands/volume of work is still there, but the actual time spent studying is less. School is pretty darn easy for me. I've been keeping track of Big Fat Liar, she missed clincals on Friday. So far, since school has started, she's had her classes cancelled, her financial aid messed up, her son's surgery, her dh's surgery, is recovering from her own surgery, missed a day of LTC clinicals, was late 3 times (at least), her DH had shingles (supposedly in his eye also), he was out of town too, and this created huge problems for her own daycare situation.

Speaking as someone whose life is almost always chaotic, I really don't believer her. She is a major drama mama and constantly looking for attention. Several pat answers do tend to stem the emesis as it flows from her mouth:

-Gee, are you going to die on us today?

-Do we need to send a priest to your house for last rites?

-Gosh, whenever I get overwhelmed with all the chaos in my life, all I have to do is think about yours and I feel better.

Perhaps that last one feeds the monster a little, but it IS a jab at her lying and drama mama act. She's fat too.

School is pissing me off. Not my school, the high school. The 18 year old has a lit test tomorrow. He HAS to have computer access to study for this test. Bravo to the teacher for joining the 21st century but it’s making my life a living hell. The 18 year old wants to use my computer to study. Never mind that he had access to the ‘puter at school for an hour after school, or that the ‘puter and the library is available. He’s trying to tell me that the studying will take longer, therefore, he’ll get kicked off the library ‘puter. Right now he’s playing football. So he can use my computer later tonight. I don’t think so. I printed the powerpoint slides, not looking at how many there were before I started. 106. I didn’t set it to print multiple slides per page, or in notes form with multiple slides per page. Nope, dummy that I am, I just hit print even though I never, ever do that for my own stuff. 106 pages down the freakin’ drain used for virtually no reason because I know damn well he’s not going to study. He never does.

The RADish is having a fit. I think he’s ready to shit a kitten out, he’s that ticked off. I grounded him because he has an F in language. It looks like he didn’t get credit for an assignment, but I don’t know why, how, or when he actually did the assignment he showed me. Therefore, until then, he’s grounded. I’ve been burned on the following “it’s not my fault I’m flunking” with the following excuses:

-The scores are figured from the total for the quarter, so EVERYONE is flunking at this point (never did buy this one)
-The teacher forgot to give me credit. It’s not fair
-The teacher lost it. It’s not fair
-That worksheet is in, she just didn’t record the grades yet (yeah, that’s why it’s in the gradebook as a zero…hmmm) It’s not fair
-I dropped the other class and picked this one up, so I didn’t do those first 4 assignments. It’s not fair.
-The teacher screwed it up because she told us to put in the red folder and it was supposed to be the blue folder so none of us got credit. It’s not fair.
-It’s not my fault. That other kid was copying my homework and I forgot to get it back from him to hand it in. He was going to hand it in for me. We weren’t cheating though, it’s not fair or my fault.
-They don’t like me. (but it’s not because I cussed them out, wrote threats on the bathroom wall or stole lots of money from three of my classmates. Or even because I text in class or spit every chance I get) It’s not fair.
-The teacher’s got something against me. He/She is really hard on foster kids. It’s not fair.

Speaking of not fair, the RADish washed his phone for the second time in less than a year. I find this hysterically funny. I think that makes me a cruel person but oh well. I can live with that. He also thinks the new kitten is “really cool”. Unlike many RADishes, he’s not cruel to animals. Annoying to animals, yes, but not cruel. I think the kitten situation was something like this:

-The kittens ran away from home because her mother was abusive. The mother is single, you see, and has quite the reputation for being a whore (that’s what I heard, apparently some cats are real whores). So the kitten ran away. The mother would only feed her milk, and had a real issue with her going to the wrong side of the gutter in the barn, where all the cool cats hung out. So she just took off. Luckily, she managed to find my boys and bummed a cigarette off of them. They bonded over that cigarette (and a little tuna) and the kitten was able to tell the RADish “man, my mom is so mean…” and from there her reputation as being a cool cat was set. The kitten does have a couple of serious issues. Perhaps sensory integration problems due to her rough upbringing and early life on the streets. She likes to bit noses, and can scale a pair of pants, while on the wearer, in about 3 seconds flat. Come to think of it, her time on bare legs is just as fast. She has a serious junk food addition. Good thing I already banned Hot Pockets and Pizza Rolls! Like an infant, she has her days and nights mixed up. I recall a similar situation with our firstborn furbaby, and have actively worked on changing this situation this afternoon. Sleeping kittens at night will not bite my nose, fingers, or toes. This is a good thing.

Food has been an issue for me too. I think that’s why I haven’t been writing as much. I’m frustrated, conflicted, angry, and sad all rolled into one. I got the eating disorder is a disease lecture, complete with comparison to alcoholism this week. She didn’t want to buy my story that I’m responsible for what I put in my mouth, not some alter ego known was Eating Disorder. If indeed, I’m not responsible for this behavior, but rather it’s my eating disorder, I then clearly have an alien in my body that needs to be evicted. That she liked. I still don’t think that’s an admission…I don’t like the idea that I didn’t cause this to happen. I think it developed as a pattern of behavior to a situation I didn’t know how to otherwise handle. I see the program and the therapy as a way of recovering—not of being “in recovery”. I don’t like the idea that I’ll always be in recovery. Unlike alcohol, I’m always going to need food to survive. We use it to nourish, to celebrate, and at times as a reward. I add in coping and comforting as well. I want to get rid of that part…

The sub-culture of the program bothers me. While I can see that it’s helpful to know that I’m not alone—and I do—I don’t think it’s healthy to have one’s world revolve around the recovery program. It’s not healthy to have my life revolve around food, obsessive food thoughts, and binging/compulsively eating either. But will I have really reached a healthy point if I rely on therpists, nutritionists, and a support group for the rest of my life? This is something that’s bothered me from the beginning. Some of the group members have been attending for 5 years of more. Perhaps that’s their limitation, but some of the conversations that revolve around this give me the willies. “Oh, I used to see that therapist, she’s great, but that was while I was still take this other med for anxiety. Then I saw this other therapist but I had to go on MA and she didn’t take MA. Um, no thank you. I want to be done at some point, have the skills and tools to cope ON MY OWN or with support from loved ones, not a paid professional. Right now, the paid professional is the tool and I’m fine with that. I’m not fine with it being that way forever. My therapy goals are to reduce binging, the compulsive thoughts surrounding food, and deal with the body distortion issues. Also, to develop new coping skills to replace eating as a coping skill. And MY goal, which is not part of this program, is to lose weight. They won’t let me have that as an official goal. As long as I don't quit, I'm doing okay, right?

The trumpet sounded, the angels sang, and the sun shined brighter than ever before. Why? BECAUSE THE BOYS ARE BACK IN SCHOOL!!! Thank you, thank you, thank you God, now they can spread their love around.

The week has been good, bad, hard, wonderful all rolled into one. After seeing my brand new nephew's picture, I couldn't help myself. I got sad and melancholy thinking about what our babies would have looked like. All of my nephews (and niece) look like our side of the family, with the exception of one. You can see it at birth. So my mind wanders...dh's curly thick hair or my stick straight? Big beautiful blue eyes, or my boring green ones? Tall or short? My cute nose or dh's wide one? I should...not...go...there. I once heard it said in a movie that "everyone has a sadness" I guess this is mine. Infertility sucks. Recently a former infertile said that it's very painful, and I got ticked. How dare she! How patronizing! Don't discuss your sorrow and 'not being able to have another one' and expect my sympathy.

Still, I find our IF being slowly resolved. Despite carrying the hurt around, it's lessening and I like having moved on. I see freedom from our rugrats on the distant horizon and I'm looking forward to it. Huh, who'd have thought that would happen. It doesn't mean I wouldn't welcome a surprise pg'cy, but IF tx'ments are no longer a pressing need the way they once were. I'm moving on. I'm NOT ready to try with our last embryos, but I do still want to. Pretty see-sawing isn't it? I have a feeling a lot of these feelings have to do with the fact that our entire parenting experience has been with very hard children, who have not provided the desired parenting experience. I love all of our kids, with the exception of a few, but I will always have in interest even in them.

BUT. THEY. WERE. HARD. NOT. NORMAL.CHALLENGING.PITA.

School has been good and bad both. I love clinicals, even if I don't really like LTC. I'm finding the good parts about it and I'm focusing on that. The a-holes in the group are emerging, and I'm trying to go undercover to avoid them and their gossip. I've gotten myself in trouble in class a few times with the jerks, because I'm GASP! Willing to participate. What a concept. Thankfully, both of my teachers are receptive to that.

Today is our anniversary. 9 years of wedded bliss, with all of the ups and downs of life. Without beloved, I don't know if I'd have gotten through it all as well as I did. Life with a partner, with THE partner that's clearly been created for you is amazing. Thank God we found each other so early in life. He's absolutely the best.

Here's to the next 9, dearest love of my life.

Welcome to the world, brand new nephew. Today is an amazing day, what a wonderful early birthday gift for your mom! I was kind of hoping you'd wait a few more days so you could share that day together. There are so many wonderful thing waiting for you to do and learn. You have a terrific big sister, and the best ever big brother. You hit the jackpot with your oldest brother! Your other brother? Well, he's a lot like your mom, and she really loved me. Weird to think that you and your brother are 5 years apart in age, just like your mom and I are. Plus you have a special sister and brother who will be joining the family soon too.

Now, for a few secrets about your grandpa. He comes across as gruff and little stand offish, but he's thrilled to have another grandbaby. With very little effort, you can have him wrapped around your little finger. He will buy the moon for you if you ask. Just wait, since you're the last and youngest grandbaby...you are in the best spot, almost as good as your big brother had when he was the only grandchild! Since he'll be leaving for college next year someone needs to fill that spot!. Trust me on this, as a former youngest grandchild. Not to mention being the youngest in the family. This is a very, very good thing. At times it might not feel like it, especially when it seems like everyone else gets to do more and is so much more grown up. But, you will be the last to leave home. You'll get special time alone with your mom when your sisters and brothers are in school.

Your uncle and I are thrilled you are here, even if we won't get to see as often as we'd like. We will always be here for you, the distance doesn't matter. The love in our hearts does matter, even if we have yet to meet you.

May God always be a force you can feel, and may God's footstep's always guide you. May you always know love. I know there is a celebration in heaven this morning, and your Grandma and Great Grandma are leading the party.

With lots of hugs, kisses, and love,
Aunt Sunny

I love this song. The line "I get so tired working so hard for our survival" rings true for me. I do get tired of working so damn hard, and I just look forward to the time when things are a little easier. I don't expect life to be 'easy', just not always a struggle.

Beloved, if the light and heat you feel for me ever leaves your eyes, I would be devasted. Seeing that on a daily basis is what makes it all worth while. Yes I know this is a little cheesy but hey, it's me. If I don't do something a little cheesy every couple of weeks you should probably get worried about me.

"In Your Eyes"
love I get so lost, sometimes
days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
when I want to run away
I drive off in my car
but which ever way I goI come back to the place you are

all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
the heat I see in your eyes

love, I don't like to see so much pain
so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive
and all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside.....

Homework, Homework, Homework

Lots and lots of homework. I have two clinical preps to do tomorrow, along with a paper to get started on. Plus all of the chapters to stay on top of for regular class. Yet I'm sitting on the 'puter instead. The way I see it, I still have 14 hours to do the work, along with the weekend, and two 'free' days where I can skip a chapter. And thus the procrastination game begins. Luckily for me, I'm an expert.

A brief word on cliques. They SUCK!!! Already the worst nurse in training EVER is driving me crazy. She's hobbling around and I for one want to see scars, I don't think she had surgery. She's a complete and total liar. She spent all of 10 min. with a new classmate and yet proclaims her to be a weirdo. Hello pot, this is kettle...look in the mirror and see the psychosis! Thank God she's not on my floor, nor in my med-surg group. A word to the almost 50 year old: WTF do you think you are doing being 'friends' with 20 year olds? Do you really think they just want to hang out with you? NO!!! They want your GPA and that's it. So the rule is: Head down and mouth shut unless instructor is present to impress.

Hopefully I'll get some good new experiences, although none of my residents are diabetics. However, this is NOT where I need a lot of experience.

Finally, a word on bunnies and dogs: These do not mix. The bunnies in my back yard (RIP) are most certainly not related to Bugs, or they would have escaped. Instead, they are churning in my dogs' stomachs and I'm praying they do not make a reappearance tonight. Please God? PLEASE???? Regurgitated bunnies in the house does not make for a happy Sunny.

I'm loving being back in school, after only two days. The workload is going to be high, and a lot depends on my ability to be good at time management. Despite the fact that we've had a few rough weeks, my spirits continue to lift as the beginning of school for the boys gets closer and closer. The regular schedule for me and the boys is such a positive force. I'm able to exercise better, eat better, and the regular interactions with people outside the house provides much needed stimulation. The variety is a good thing.

One thing that I've been disappointed in is the lack of welcome I seemed to receive from my classmates. I know I have a tendancy to be somewhat reserved, but I thought I was at least friendly to everyone. The lack of friendliness back was a bit hurtful, and I guess I'll just have to wait and see how things unfold. I know I'm not the only on in this position, the girl next to me was experiencing the same thing. My comment to her was "I guess we didn't get the secret password". She laughed and we chatted. Hopefully, the ice will be broken when we start clinicals tomorrow.

One girl had commented that we seem to have a lot of strong personalities in my clinical group, and she specificlly mentioned me. While I know I have a strong personality, I didn't think that was a bad thing. I guess that's something I'll have to watch too. We have another adjunct teacher for this first clinical, also from the other campus just like my summer teacher. So another unknown but both of my theory classes were unknowns too. So far, I've had a really good feeling from both of them. The best news? Only ONE comprehensive final.

Dear Mother in Law

It's really not far to call you my mother in law. What you really are is a second mom, the one I wished my own could have been. It reminds me of the little girl we cared for, she didn't really want me to be her mom, she just wanted her own mom to be more like me. That's how I feel. I want a healthy mom whose shoulder I could cry on. Thank you for yours. Without all that you ahve done for us, I don't know where we would be. Without your love and support, well, let's just say that when I hear horror stories from friends about their mother in laws, I say a prayer of gratitude for you.

Again, just looking around the house...so much of it is because of you. The deck, the beautiful dining room table (which we never would have bought for ourselves), the basement carpet and stove, and of course, the bathroom. Over the years to many little things too...like the plants around the house for my birthday, your mom's plants. I hope it's as encouraging to you as it is to me, to know that the generations are putting down roots that go so far back.

I just wanted to write this down for you because its so hard to say and even though I know you won't see this it feels good to do. I get emotional and weepy but today of all days I felt I had to say it. You said you're proud of us. That means the world to me, having rarely heard it from my own parents. It's needed and feels so good.

I wish we had some way to pay you back. I promise we will be there for you and we will care for you if you ever need it. I miss our lunches together and look forward to being able to do them again.

Love,
Sunny the dear daughter in law

Good food day, in a weird way! We stopped at a local Chinese restaurant on the way home, where I ordered steamed pot stickers and lo mein. I ate about half of the lo mein, and three of the pot stickers. The RADish at 1/4, and beloved finished the rest. They split the rest of the pot stickers too.

I didn't get mad. I wasn't jealous...although that's not with right word either. Maybe I mean I wasn't deprived at watching them eat my food? Anyway, it was different.

I ate way too much at the night before and didn't make good choices either. The day did not start out that well this morning, with a few cinnasticks, but overall...there are small bits of improvement. Cleaning, sorting, and general picking up helped tremendously. There is a feeling of general discombobulation when the house is in too much disarray. I'm pretty sure that goes back to mom too. As she was less and less able to keep house, the knowledge that something was really wrong was nagging in the back of all of our brains. I did not yet have the word Huntington's in my vocabulary, but we knew something was wrong. The center--Mom---was falling apart, and with her, my center collapsed. The center is still being redefined, always with a bit of a hole that's her loss in my life. The coping mechanisms I developed were pretty unhealthy (eating, self denial), so the center is not real strong yet. Thank God for my Beloved!

It's no wonder with no one to pick up the pieces and hold us together that I ended up in such a crappy place. I tried to make things okay, by picking up the 'slack' and by desperate pleading with both God and Mom to just be okay. I tried to push my siblings and Dad to reassure me, but their attitude was "don't worry, it can always get worse!" So even back then cleaning was a solace, someway for me to trick myself into think that everythings just fine.

I think the feeling I get now, when I'm surrounded by a child-induced mess, is a reminder and reminiscent of the old feelings. It's not strong, more of an echo of the past. The clutter, the dirt, the 20,000 things that need to be done: It's a nagging reminder of the past when thing did come undone. When I'm done I feel like I've stuffed a monster back in the closet: My fear, that the mess is a 'symptom', and my painful memories. The therapist would ask "And what if it did come unglued?" My response is that it DID come unglued, but I did survive. But with so many scars. Even now, after all these years there is a gaping hole or I wouldn't end up with this icky feeling.

It's not all unhealthy. Some of it IS a girl thing, a mom thing, and a Lutheran German thinking (What will the neighbors say!). Some of it might even be a little bit perfectionism. It's also a distraction from eating, and an inability to sit and be still.

This is why it's so hard to untwist all of my feelings, there's a heck of a lot twisted together. Dang, I just had another thought on all of this and I lost it.

Oh yeah, the emotional eating stuff. I have an answer to one of the questions. When I let myself feel hunger, what I'm really feeling is a sense of control over my own body, and probably my life too. Hunger used to mean I was doing something right, until I started compulsively eating and binging. Then the hunger was not a good thing, I needed more to be comforted and this was my best option at the time. When I was dieting, the hunger meant I was in control of my eating and thereby in control of my universe. I saw it as a sign of power. It meant I was strong. So my real feelings when I want to get hungry (or when I am) is that I CAN be powerful, and I am an emotionally strong woman. It's a way to reaffirm that within myself. Especially if I'm having a fat-n-ugly attack. I don't want to need food to feel comfort. Hunger is a rejection of the relationship I have with food.

I kept very busy most of this weekend. School starts on Tuesday, woohoo! We had a wonderful break from the RADish, who seemed to have a good weekend as well. The family he was with was strict, but it sounded like he still had an okay time. He admitted that he was "almost glad to see us" when we picked him up. What a wonderful thing for him to say. It's akin to watching monkeys use tools for the first time.

He seemed to swing back and forth between being glad to see us and being mad at us for "getting rid of him". Several times, he seemed to being trying to trick us into admitting this. He said he's "not that bad" so he didn't know why we'd want to send him away. I think I'll make a list of grievances.

He refuses to pick up after himself.
He uses vulgar language
He's arguementative
He's hostile
He's rude to the animals
He is rude and nasty to everyone in the house
He's a slob
He won't clean his room
He won't do his laundry on a regular basis
He uses us--we provide a few vital services and that's it
He negotiates every part of his life
He refuses to engage us in a reciprocal relationship

This last one is not really an irritant, it's something to be pitied. Since he won't give and always takes, he never becomes vulnerable enough to have emotional ties of any significance with anyone. That is heartbreaking. However, all I can muster up these days is pity, at the very most. To say it's not easy to live with someone like this is an understatement. Often it's like living in a war zone. Always on guard, rarely able to relax. Always making sure everything within the war zone is secured, locked, and under surveillance. Not a good way to live

Revelations on eating

1. Keeping busy helps.
2. Keeping busy makes me feel productive
3. Keeping busy makes me feel useful, and eases the guilt of beloved working a job he hates for us.
4. Keeping busy is a distraction that makes me forget to eat, which leads to overeating.
5. Cooking/baking doesn't always equal binging. It's very relaxing for me.
6. Preventative stress management MAY be more satisfying than going through my list of stuff to do when stress is high.
7. Scheduling self care when I've been self-sacrificing, self-denial mode (and believing this was virtue) is HARD.
8. Breaking bad habits is a long process.
9. I see some progress, I have been able to STOP eating at times, and I've recognized a binge or two before it gets out of hand.
10. Still don't know what the heck emotional eating means for me.

11. I have dumb stupid guilt for dumb stupid reasons...it's ingrained.
12. It's hard to overcome the concept that "idle hands are the devils work".
13. Women, in general, strive for perfection. Although this might be more prevelent in ED populations, I see it everywhere. And it's hard to *NOT* strive for those standards. It's hard to try not to measure up even when I can see how unrealistic these perfectionist goals are.
14. Dieting news and talk, especially about "great low cal recipes" is no longer a topic of interest for me. It's a bit sad, but I find myself avoiding these conversations now. I wish I didn't want to avoid them, because this sort of talk seems to be all around me (MIL is a little loopy this way) and it makes me feel different.
15. Perfectionism, in terms of diet and exercise, is a demon that needs to be exercised. I tend to feel like a failure when I can't be perfect with either of this, have an 'all or none' attitude, and despite the knowledge that I have this unrealistic expectation of myself I have been unable to conquer this misguided thinking.

Swallow that Pride

DS just received a call from his former employer. He was fired earlier this summer because he was unable to keep up with cooking/cleaning solo. They want him back to bus tables, which is good money. He refused on the grounds that he wouldn't work for someone who fired him for some bullcrap reason. Too much pride. While I understand how hard it would be--I would never want to work for the place that fired me ever again--I also think it's foolishness. I hated the job I was fired from; DS really like it. I think he's just too embarassed to go back.

I have an Emotional Eating Homework assignment, blech. I read over the questions and couldn't come up with a single answer. I just drew a blank. My goal is to work on one question a day, just ruminating over it and trying to find an answer. The truth is I don't know if I really am an emotional eater. Stress, yes, but 'emotional' I dunno.

Multiple choice

If your mom and dad say "no friends over to the house this week" this means the following:

• a) It's okay to have them come over and sit on the deck
• b) they just mean they can't spend the night, they can still come over though.
• c) As long as we stay in our room they won't be bothered, so that's okay
• d) We'll just sneak them in, they won't embarrass us by kicking them out.e) no one can come over--period (but we know the REAL answer is actually a, b, c, AND d)

Even if it's just for a little while? But his girfriend was still working and he didn't have anywhere else to go. But I was hanging out with him too. What do you have against our friends anyway? IT'S SO UNFAIR!!

English is clearly not their first language.

The 18 year old has been hounding me to take him to get job applications. Of course I'm going to do it, but the feeling that I have to do more work than he does is getting to me. I'm going to have to think of something to restore the balance. He NEEDS to know that his free ride is over. If he quit/got fired from a job when he was living on his own he'd be facing eviction from his apartment, cut off of utilities, cut off of phone, no gas to get back and forth to get another job. This afternoon we went and picked up an application for a factory job. When I mentioned I wouldn't be able to get him back and forth all the time because of class, he panicked. How was he going to get to work? They'd never hire him if he could only work two days a week.

I don't know how he's figuring 2 days, since they work M-F, and there are four days when I won't be able to get him there by three. School doesn't let out until 3:15! A discussion about how I was his personal assistant ensued (thanks to Nancy Spoolstra's ideas) and he made an off hand comment about he'd pay me with Monopoly money. I guess he's planning on working for one of the railroads, or if he's really lucky for a hotel on Park Place.

DS's bmom pissed me off because she refused to bring him home. WTF? She wants to see him, and under the circumstances of DS's placement and adoption she really doesn't have a right to see him at all. DS wants it on a limited basis and that's the only reason why she gets to see him. I also think his sleepovers are out of guilt; he's made friends in the area and spends more time with them than with her. Unless, of course, she plans an activity such as a movie.

And then we have the RADish. He was in rare form tonight. He didn't know what to do with a lot of our responses, we gave him the chance to vent, scream, holler, and get everything off his chest. All the frustrations he was feeling, he had the chance to dump. Nope, nadda. He kept trying to go back to his same old arguements. We tried to leave things on a good note, something we didn't know how to do with the Big D. To top everything off, his therapist quit and so he did a discharge summary on him. The therapist told me "he's doing pretty well now anyway...." Um, NO! Although I can't really talk to him since we don't have a release signed by his biomom. I don't know who to direct more of my anger at: his social worker or his biomom.

Therapy for me is actually tomorrow. Good thing too because there was way too much going on today. My task was to think of alternatives to binging, so...here they are:

1. Take a bath
2. Take a nap
3. Puzzle games
4. watch tv
5. snuggle my puppy. I love rubbing his soft ears
6. exercise
7. snuggle beloved
8.
9.
10

Tomorrow I see the therapist again. I really need to make an appointment with the Food Police, but don't feel like there is a point right now. I'm resisting the food management side of things. Until I'm ready to work more actively on it or until I can break down and identify specific problem areas, I think it's a waste of my time. I didn't go to group therapy last week due to the flooding problem. It was the night that we were able to get water restoration in and there was a lot of paperwork to sign.

I do see some small changes in how and what I'm eating. Just going to go slow and take it one day at a time. My perfectionist tendencies are strong in this area. There is a need to find a balance between how much I work on this so I can make progress and spending too much time obsessing, which of course, I don't want to do. If that remotely makes sense. It does in my head, and that's more clarity than I've had regarding eating and weight issues than I've had in a long time.

The Big D and Accountability

Yesterday morning I woke up to a phone call from a former foster child. He was without question, the most difficult child we've ever had. The bag of trouble he dragged with him was sad, his past was horrifying, and he's chosen not to do anything about it. He was asking us for a ride to a wedding. We haven't seen him since he left our home in late 2004. Yet he felt it was acceptable to call us for a ride! That just speaks to his level of mental instability. He left our home under pretty sad circumstances--we kicked him out. So unlike beloved's Big D, mine is not diabetes.

Since my meltdown in front of our social worker, I seem to have found a new strength. Somehow, it was renewing for me to get it all out to someone other than beloved. He's sitting in this stew with me, and we need someone who is trying to do SOMETHING to help us and the kids. I don't feel like we'll see a lot of action, but I made my voice heard in there is power in that fact.

The boys are unhappy with the level of accountibility we are expecting. The 18 year old has been asked to be left alone for the rest of the night, because we made him help with dishes even though he did them four days ago. The horror! He even tried to pout because DS has not done them in that amount of time either. He was unhappy with the response that we just didn't care. The radish was looking for a phone number and since I took his phone away, he can't just hit one button. Of course, this is MY fault for taking the phone away, since he can't be expected to pay his phone bill on time every month.

Over and over the radish has asked me why I'm doing this NOW. In a way, it is a good question. I was beaten into submission for awhile, just too tired to parent him the way he needs to facilitate accountability. I don't expect healing without professional help in our home. That seemed to be my problem. We don't have adequate professional help because his SW doesn't believe in his condition. She logically can see his problems, but feels conventional methods will work. Even though they never have. This in turn caused my frustration, anger, and feelings of impotence. What was the point of me working so hard when there was no chance of decent therapy to support him or us?

Eureka, the light went on today. The RADish accused me of being cranky because it was "my time of the month." Such a delight, our little radish! He said he didn't know what my problem was...well, that's when the light went on because I DO know what his problem is. I've known all along but I just haven't been parenting him like it. Another point, and a good reminder came from the 18 year old. He asked if the radish likes being grounded and I replied with "I think it makes him feel safe." There must be some truth to it!

I had a long conversation with a new foster parent friend, who knows the radish's family. She's confused, perplexed and getting sucked in bad. I tried to warn her and I think she realizes she has to be careful. The level of manipulation by every member of this family can only be combated by keeping contact brief and to the point. At every chance they'll look for any perceived upper hand, real or imagined. The radish's sister is particularly adept and easy to believe because she's a girl. It's amazing that that half truths are spouted as reality time and time again.

Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive. This results in lots of dancing, faster and faster. Lots of energy wasted on keeping up with one's own BS. What a waste of life.

We suspect the 18 year old is lying about his firing. I think he probably got yelled at--rightly so--for missing too many days. So he quit. He's still on the schedule for next week. He's so quiet it's easy to just ignore him most days. If I think about it, he's just as messed up as the radish, but it comes out in such different ways. For that I'm grateful or I think I would have gone crazy by now.

Only a little over a week before school starts, I'm excited again. Now that the job decision has been settled, I can relax a tiny bit until the hunt for LPN jobs starts in December. I'm glad I didn't sell myself short.

Pathetic

DS us angry at me for telling the truth. I told his bmom about calling me a bitch, and now he's trying to say he's not the one who said it, and that what he actually said was "She's not usually like this". I can only speculate, but it seems that he doesn't like this reflection. He did the typical teenager thing to me "how dare you eavesdrop!" um, sweetie you were in the living room, how is that eavesdropping?

The 18 year old got fired, what a shock. Apathy is the word that springs to mind over and over. He's just so afraid of life. He keeps saying he wants to work more, but puts all of the responsibility on me or beloved to do all the work for him in getting a better job. Dinner tonight, for example. He said he was hungry but asked me what I was making for dinner. I wasn't finished working outside, so I told him nothing--but he was free to make whatever he wanted. When everyone else got home I made hamburgers, and he decided he wasn't actually hungrey before (doesn't remember saying he was, perhaps?) but he wolfed down two burgers. I didn't ask, but he also didn't offer to help me finish in the yard sooner so that I could make dinner sooner. He ate a handful of bread, with nothing on it, for lunch. For breakfast, he waited until the banana bread was finished baking and ate some of that. In otherwords, he didn't life a single finger all day to do anything for himself. He's paralyzed by the mere act of living.

How strange, but good. I actually knew while I was eating, that I was eating too much, too fast, simply for the fact of eating. Shortly before desert arrived, I thought “oh yeah, now the good part.” And after only a bite or two, started to relax. I think I even commented on it, because I’ve been told that the reason eating is so relaxing is that your body can’t be in “fight or flight” mode, but rather “rest and digest”. The two systems are in conflict with each other. It made sense before this, but last night it really clicked.

I have two kids on my living floor and couch. One belongs to me, and I’m happy to say he gave the guest the couch. Although he does like sleeping on the floor, so maybe I’m giving him too much credit. I’m going to give it to him anyway.

The budget took a big hit this month, between Christmas shopping for my family, back to school shopping, clothes shopping for the boys, school shopping for us, an MP3 disaster, and let’s see what else? Oh yeah, the insurance deductible for the basement flooding. I just want to spend the day working outside, cleaning up the yard, the garden, harvesting potatoes, carrots, pumpkins, and squash. I’d like to cut back the raspberries, move the compost pile, and start moving plants around. There are two bushes that have to get moved, one because it’s pointless back where it is, and the other because the dogs are going to kill it if I don’t. I’d like to move two of the lilac bushes as well, and start on the apple harvest. I’d like to start the landscaping under the deck. I’d like to use up the chemicals in the garage that are for the lawn. There are ants to kill, creeping Charlie to combat, and the lawn needs to be mowed. None of these things stress me out, I take pleasure in them. It’s just been too hot to do any of it.

The garage needs a complete cleaning, but with the rug (please, please, please insurance adjuster have a sensitive nose…tell us we get to have new carpet!) festering, opps, drying
in the garage, we can’t really clean it out. So I guess I’ll try and wait. The cleaning service left a brochure with some terribly dramatic photos of rotting crawl spaces. If mine looked like that I’d be down there with a bucket of bleach in a heart beat. Three cheers for my beloved, for his wise decision making on a dehumidifier.

Back to money woes, DS’s birthday is coming up, as are school fees. DS needs money on his lunch account, but I’m trying to swallow my pride and fill out the free/reduced lunch forms. I know he qualifies because I read the forms when the foster kids get signed up. There’s usually shop fees, which they like to forget about, and also passes for events…something like $7/child for each pass. It prevents a lot of whining about “can I get some money to go to the game?” Add in traveling fees for family events in both September and October, and I’ll have to go over that budget with a fine tooth comb again. I know we can afford these things, I just have to have it mapped out so that I don’t stress and freak beloved out.

Lowered Expectations

The song for this old SNL skit has been going through my head. It is only through extreme measures that I've been able to coerce the children into doing what I want them to do. First, to do their EXPECTED chores. Second, to have any awareness of their surroundings. Third, to let them wallow in their own piles of self-made poo. I will not rescue them from their bad decisions, nor will I accept responsiblity for those poor choices. If they like laying in piles upon piles of crap, so be it.

The 18 year old did not make it to work today. His own fault. He's had three days that he's messed up recently. This is after asking for more hours. When pointed out to him, his reply was that it was only two days that were messed up, one was my fault because I got his work hours wrong. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry. DS was overheard telling friends how I'm always bitchy. The radish accused me of destroying the check that HE washed. I'm amazed at the lengthes of denial he'll go to in order to avoid accepting responsibility for his actions.

After reading a number of RAD/attachment blogs this week, I realized how very lucky Beloved and I were in all the help and support we got with DS. On the other hand, it's also highlighted the lack of support we are getting for the radish now. I ended up in tears today, between the problems with the wet carpet in the basement and the absolute frustration of having zero support from social workers. How on earth is anyone expected to 'manage' this kind of child 24/7, 365 days out of the year? Prison guards work an 8 hour shift, I'm expected to be 'on duty' all the time.

He has shown very little interest in life beyond superficial pleasure--watching TV, playing basketball, a few things like that. There is zero consistant participation, and due to poor choices he can't play on the team this year. He does absolutely nothing other than what he wants, operating solely on the "What can I get out of this?" principle. Everything negative that happens in his life is someone else's fault. Even personal cares, picking up after himself in common areas are shuffled onto other people. If his socks are lost, it's because I picked them up (because he wouldn't of course), if the bathroom's a mess, a common response is "I didn't have time to pick up, you should get me up earlier then". After spending 30 minutes in front of the TV--of course he didn't have time to do such things!

One of the blogs I read this week said that she does things occasionally for her RAD child, not because she expects any sort of response, but simply because it makes her feel good. I used to occasionally do this for another child we had, and once I got to this mentality, it was a huge burden off my chest. I really have to get back to that mindset. Right now though, we've decided no back to school clothes--he just dumps them everywhere and lives in sloth anyway. Why would I add to my own frustration? He doesn't NEED new clothes, he WANTS them. He's threatened to throw things away in order to 'need' more.

We can't keep towels in the bathroom anymore either. He uses a new towel for each shower, and at times takes multiple showers in a day. The towels end up on the floor in a horrible, musty mess. Washclothes get tossed on the tub floor, free to fester and get musty as well. And he believes it's my responsibility to take care of laundering these items.

The upshot of my tear filled day was that our TFC worker is going to be setting up respite for us for 4 days. I believe that's $120-150, money well spent for the peace I need to get. I reminded her that this is a temporary solution, a short break will not mean much in the long run if this child is allowed to keep on the path that he's on. She offered several suggestions, all of which are part of my bag of tricks already. I just don't have the energy to use any of them right now. Long term solutions are needed, and the county worker simply doesn't want to make that happen. The funds are available through special programs he's a part of (which we have NEVER used) and the 'family ties' that are cited are BS, they just don't exist. This worker has wasted 8, almost 9 monthes of this child's time. Time that is quickly running out if there is ever going to be any sort of healing.

Growing up with Huntington's

I've been reading a lot of what other people think of the Duggar family recently. Like Tom Cruise, this is a family I love to read about, and love to pick apart. Religious extremists are always people to watch out for, IMO, and this family, while seemingly harmless bothered me for a lot of reasons. The first is, it's a stab at my own infertile self. I actually thought that was the main and REAL reason. Now I've realized that's not it at all. It's actually that I think the older children are way too parentified, and this I can relate to. If you asked me in high school if I thought I had too much responsibility, I probably would have said yes. But I also would have quickly followed up with "I don't mind, my family needs me." I came across to most people as a well adjusted child, polite, with more manners than most, and very responsible. I was the good child. I had good grades, could be trusted not to go out and drink (that they knew of), didn't smoke, didn't have sex, and in fact didn't date at all (that my parents knew of). I dressed fairly preppy, another parental plus.

I also did laundry, vaccuumed, dusted, did dishes, cooked, mowed the lawn, weeded the garden and did a lot in the barn. Without being told. As my mother's health went down hill, I just picked up more of the 'slack'. Mom still did plenty, but I did a lot too. I don't think my father even noticed, other than the barn work. When mom couldn't milk, dad bemoaned the fact but didn't give me a parental lecture about helping the family during times of need. I just DID IT. A good trait to have in a teenage child, true?

Yet, looking back I also realize that this was not the way it should have been. My parents should have directed my work, should have looked to outside help, or my adult siblings for this sort of support. I still think what I did was right; but I think what they did was wrong. Even if we would have hired help, I know I would have had to do more--and that's not the issue. The fact that as "the good daughter" I laid aside my teen years and shouldered adult responsibilities while enabling my father's emotional weaknesses is the problem.

That's why I get bugged abou the Duggars. The kids do what I did, and the parents encourage it. It's not right for kids to shoulder adult responsibilities. Ever. As they get close to adulthood, they should be taught how to run their own home--I'm all for raising adults and not children. I doubt they'll move out until they have a spouse in tow, and that spouse is in for a serious shock.

After moving out, depression hit me like a bullet between the eyes. My purpose, the feeling needed was gone. Mom wanted me to leave, I don't think she wanted me to see her decline. I wandered and struggled for so long after that. After beloved and I moved in together I tried so hard to please him, I wanted everything to be so perfect...I wanted to have that purpose again. It wasn't healthy, I had a hard time forming my own identity. I marveled at how at ease he was with who he was--his likes and dislikes. Mine were so diminutive, always involving wifely type things. I don't think there is anything wrong with wifely things. I do see the unhealthy behavior as being that I thought I was supposed to be focused solely on that and NOT on my own personal, separate from beloved interests.

It's all very confusing, even now. Again, I'm amazed he stuck with me and wanted ME. He truly is my best friend. Even after meeting my family, especially my mom, and knowning that could be me someday.

Dear Mr. Murphy

Get the hell out of my house. You have never been welcome, and here is why:

1. You invite yourself over.
2. You don't pick up after yourself.
3. You almost always cost a lot of money.
4. You're visits come at very inconvenient times.
5. You are rude, inconsiderate, and a royal PITA.
6. You're visits are always stressful and cause undo amounts of worry and upheaval in my daily routine.

I hereby evict you permanently from my life!!! Don't come back. The little sump pump trick was the final straw. Do I need this stress in my life, ever? I don't f'ing think so.

New Therapist

Therapy sucks!
I guess it means I’m really getting to the heart of the matter. For quite some time, I enjoyed therapy. It meant I was doing something for myself, and I was proud of that fact. Yes, it costs money—but it is tax deductible! I like the ED therapist, and little old consistent me loves the fact that she also does the weekly group. It startled me to realize that I will be seeing her twice a week, at least for awhile. The first thing she asked me today is what I want to be working on. All I could answer was “the eating stuff” because it’s still rather nebulous and vague. It’s just this little food/eating problem I have. Last week I was able to put my finger on the fact that I binge after therapy, and I realized that after my regular therapy-induced emotional purging, the instinct to stuff it all back down with a binge is very, very, very strong. I was asked to come up with alternatives. The problem is the alternatives seem flat, boring, expensive and hard to come up with…it’s supposed to be something caring and nurturing for myself. It seems I’m being asked to learn a foreign language overnight.

I gave her a brief update on me, my life to date, and my eating disorder history. It’s clearer than ever that my habits have been learned. Anger was the only ‘safe’ emotion we could show/express as a family. Sweetums is always so calm, which was both a blessing and not so good for me. Certainly, I appreciate being able to talk and having learned how to share my life and love with someone, I never, ever want to use the sort of hurtful language and behavior that was so characteristic in my family. Yet, I failed to recognize that in my effort to be peaceful and calmly ‘talk things out’, I stuffed a lot of emotions. I did that when my primary mode of communication was yelling too…and thought that sweetum’s way WAS expressing emotions. But I was afraid to say a lot of things, afraid to speak a lot of my fears. That I wasn’t good enough, that he’d leave if he really knew the scary things that went on in my head. That if I told him about some of the things I wanted to do (from entertainment, to lunch, to decorating the house!) he’d laugh at me, or tell me I was stupid. Not one time has he ever done anything to indicate he’d react this way. I based it all on how my family treated me. I self-effaced, and almost always said “I don’t care honey, whatever you want”. When I did say what I wanted, I was always afraid that he wouldn’t like it or would be disappointed (movies, restaurant choices, etc). There were very few areas of exception. Most meals were planned with what I thought he’d like. Books, perhaps, were the exception because I never had to share them if I didn’t want to do so…the few times there were things he didn’t like that I did, I was careful to not bring them up. As far as I was concerned, I already had my answer, therefore, why defend my likes/dislikes? I was sure he’d laugh or make fun of me, as my father and sister had done. I don’t even think I thought about it. I just reacted.

In the last year, I’ve started to do more…and he’s encouraged me. I’m more confident on the choices I make for decorating my house, and I hope some of my personality shows. True, it’s fairly plain and simple, but I don’t like clutter or tons of stuff sitting around. Yet that fact alone is progress. Previously, I was indecisive, worried it would be ugly, and worried my beloved would hate it. I would go into other people's homes and be amazed and envious at what they would do decorating-wise. Sometimes he has to suggest the things I do want (and he knows it) and it makes me love him all the more, because I know he does truly accept me. Again, my own fears created this mess and I am so very grateful to God for providing a man who is patient, sweet, caring, and downright amazing. Even with all of my self-deprecating behaviors, I’ve always felt like we were two halves of a whole. When we first met, it seemed like we were speaking a different, secret language. The kind of language that I had forgotten I knew, and it was only when I heard him speaking it that I could remember it. Just one of the many ways I knew he was "the one".

F'ing Hope

Every month, without fail, I still get sideswiped by hope. A seemingly benign thing to those who have not had crushing painful disappointment—month after month. For those of us who have never see two lines on an HPT, hope is an evil, insidious laugh in your face bitch. The sort of thing that makes you feel like a fool when your period finally comes. Especially after 9 years, when you think I would know better. My uterus and I need to have a little chit chat about this, as it’s the scene of the hope. It knows there has been no action, yet refuses to be as timely as I’d like. I know my cycle is longer than 28 days, sometimes as much as 33 days. I know that this means over the course of about 6-8 months, the approximate time of the month that I’ll actually get my period shifts. Yet I seem to have some sort of amnesia, and when the time I think it’s supposed to come passes, that nasty little thing called hope crawls out. Mocking me, my uterus cramps and bloats and makes me feel like someone else. Lately it’s been worse, something I should probably look into since amazingly, after IUI’s, HSG’s, and even IVF, I’ve never had a lap done. Who knows what’s really going on in there? The only certainty is what is NOT going on. Despite the fact that I’m fairly content without a bio child at this time, I just can’t seem to help myself

Quitters never win

After just two days, DS quit football because it was too hard. After a week, in which he didn’t practice b/c of a hyper-flexed wrist that was casted for three days, the 18 year old quit too. I spent $85 on each of them for shirts, equipment, etc, plus another $35 on each of them for shoes. DS is well aware of the fact that he has to pay me back, and I took the money out of his savings. The 18 year old will have to do the same. I even bought a football support card, as part of their fundraiser. At least I’ll get two dollars off my haircut tomorrow.

Countdown

I have three weeks until school starts. I'm excited, but nervous. A classmate didn't pass summer clinicals. She's so upset, understandable so and she warned me about several classmates. I know she's right about those classmates. I saw some questionable behavior earlier in the semester and I wish I would have said something to one of our teachers. It also made me regret a decision to 'let it go' with another classmate, someone I don't care for at all. She's a real pain and from day one I saw things that bothered me, both procedural (she wants to do things 'her way' aka: I washed my hands so I can handle client's meds with my bare hands) and she'll lie about doing stuff like that. Not one of these classmates will hesitate to sell me out if they are threatened. So it's every student for herself and CYA as much as possible.

I think the classmate that flunked clinicals made a big mistake, one that I have made numerous times in the past, and one that cost me a job. Although in hindsight, I'm glad I got fired, at the time I was very supset and felt I had been seriously wronged. As time as passed, the biggest lesson learned was that I assumed others had everyone's best interest in mind, which is what I try to do. That's simply not true. The type of people who will watch your back are rare, and when their own positions are compromised most people will gladly betray a friend to save their own behind.

A day in my life:
-No clothes on the bathroom floor
-Close the shower curtain so it dries
-Don't use the laundry room floor to store clean/dirty clothing--be respectful of the other people who need to use it.
-Keep the laundry room door closed so the rest of the house doesn't get dusty
-Keep the toilet seat down
-Hang up your towels so they don't get musty/skanky
-Ring out your washrags, so they don't get skanky and musty smelling.
-Put your shoes away
-close the cupboards after you taking something out
-TURN DOWN THE TV!!!
-Close the basement door so the dogs don't eat the cat food/cat turds.
-You CAN eat food from the garden, it doesn't have bugs in it.
-Don't pull apples off the trees and have a fight
-Don't unplug the camera in the basement
-Don't eat all the cheese

The response to these things are "You never told us this"

Rambling thoughts

Not starting out to be a good day. Sweetums had insulin problems during the night, and was up until after 7 trying to just feel better. He's totally lethargic now, poor thing. Radish had to work this morning and total creep that I am, I asked sweetums to take him. I just can't stand being around him right now. He brings out the worst in me, it's horrible. I think I need a Nancy Thomas refresher, I need something to refresh me.

I'm really, really, really getting frustrated with DS's biomom making plans with him, not mentioning it to us, and hearing "oh by the way, I'm going with my mom today." She never used to do this, and I'm getting the feeling it's a subtle manipulation (or not so subtle) since we no longer have a 'friendship' with her.

I used to think all adoptions were just fuzzy feel good types of things. There is so much more pain involved than that, on both sides. We are not called mom or day. At times, I don't feel like his mom; at other times it wells up in me and I'd do anything to keep him safe. The worst part is, she's always been the biggest source of pain in his life. The truth is, without our willingness to learn how to parent him the way he needs, DS would on a very dangerous road. She refuses to give us credit for that. I doubt she has the ability.

I'm curious what the response will be at his graduation from high school. He'll have senior pictures, a cap/gown, invitations, etc. I wonder how she'll react to our families (well, sweetums, I know mine won't show up) and hers intermingling. I don't begrudge her inability to provide material things for her daughter...I'm curious as a bystnader to part of this what her thoughts/feelings will be. I'm curious to her reaction when his name is called during the ceremony, with our name in it too.

I doubt she realizes the pain that we've gone through. Not only are we not mom/dad, we didn't even get to name him, we just have our name added. Some days these are really sour grapes for me. Most days though I just marvel at how far we've managed to come with him. If nothing else, it has soldified my feelings that I never, ever want to do a domestic adoption. I'm not even sure if I'd want to adopt from foster care again. The Dave Thomas Foundation can argue the merits all they want, but most SW don't adequately prepare parents for the task--nor are they honest in domestic adoptions either. The play down the biofamily's turmoil, as if a few sessions of 'counseling' will make everything okay. Most adoptive parents I've talked to say it's not the happy joy-joy occasion they had hoped for. It's actually a heartwrenching day full of fear--will they, after years of IF and lost babies, lose yet another one? So...if we do adopt again, it'll be international. I know those mothers grieve their lost children just as much, but hypocrite that I am, won't have to deal with it in my face.

Money update

I'm starting to think about Christmas shopping too. We've managed to get the kids' school supplies, and 2/3 of the boys now have school clothes. I have a couple of birthday presents for two of my nephews, and I figure if I get the rest in the next 4-6 weeks, I can be done with all the birthdays and Christmas stuff on that side of the family by the end of September. Sweetums' father/stepmom is done too. This leaves the boys, sweetums, and my MIL. I would love it if we could go shopping together for the boys, just the two of us.

Sweetums managed to replace his MP3 player, I put $1,000 from his mom into savings, he has his spending/gas for the next two weeks, plus the boys got there clothes. We STILL have $800 for the next two weeks for bills/food/my gas. I'm shocked! Pleasantly so, and plan on paying a few more bills before we spend it on something we don't need to. The Discover bill went up AGAIN, something we will need to address very soon, but first things first, the mustang, insurance, and another $500-600 on Capital One this month.

I know that our 'belt' will be loosened if we can just get these credit cards paid off--and keep them paid off. I'd love to stuff away 4-5,000 in savings for a car fund. I know these things are do-able, but it takes a lot of discipline. It gets frustrating being poor all the time.

Sore Feet

That's about all I got out of today. After waking up to a rude, thoughtless radish, I had a lovely breakfast on the deck with sweetums (is that better than stud?) where he suggested we go to the mall. This is where I made the first mistake. I said "Let's take DS and give them their $150 for school clothing" Sweetums agreed, therefore, he's just as responsible. Mistake number two happened when I suggested we bring the 18 year old for the same purpose. Again, sweetums does not get off scott free. He agreed. Mistake number three was not long in coming, as the radish was just not being cooperative, and I lost my temper over his stupid work hat. He had one on his head, which wasn't good enough and the two lying in the hall were hidden in plain sight.

After dropping him off at work, we had a lovely run in with one of Wisconsin's finest rednecks. I think he was feeling a little insecure without his truck nuts for decoration. Redneck (with the mullet in a ponytail, must be a special occasion) had his wife, who had this hairdo. I'm pretty sure she had on a concert t-shirt and make-up appeared to be leftover from last night's beer fest. The image that came to my mind was Adam Sandler's skanky ex in the Wedding Singer. This lovely couple was kind enough to bring their children with them, who were able to bear witness to Redneck Public Behavior 101. Best to show them how to be a prick early on. This idiot was sitting about 3 carelengths into the drive through of the bank, waiting for next car to leave. Most people would just pull up behind a car and hope they were lucky enough to pick the quickest lane. I had no problem just waiting behind him, until two cars behind me seemed to have trouble getting through. So I picked a lane, which was very unacceptable to said Redneck.

He proceeded to pull up the lane next to me, stop his vehicle short of the now-clear lane (I must have been punished for 'cutting' in line) and stare at me. He rolled down his window and made a snotty comment. Sweetums encouraged him to get on with his business in a kill with kindess voice. Redneck makes a nasty comment, I said he was setting a wonderful example for his kids. Sweetums repeated this in case he couldn't hear me and he invited sweetums to come to his truck and say that. Of course, sweetums didn't think that was necessary, to which lovely Redneck repeated the offer.

I rolled up the window since my lane was now clear and we did our business. As the Rednecks were leaving, sweetums waved and their kid waved back. That made the whole stupid, retarded non-confrontation funny. Da wife apparently didn't think so and Redneck stopped short and waited for us...oooooo...it was so scary. NOT. If he had waited after we left I would have called 911.

The boys decided on MOA for their mall, which turned into mistake number 4. It took almost a full 1/2 hour to get into the parking ramp and park. Mistake number 5 was that I was wearing a long sleeved shirt, it was packed and so hot in some of the stores I had a hard time breathing--probably had something to do with crowds too. Mistake number six was that I was expecting our regular mall, for which my Dankso sandals would have been fine. At MOA, they were not, and the balls of my feet were so sore by the end of the day. The good news is the arches in the Danskos are so wonderful that I didn't have any tendonitis troubles at all.

Looking on the bright side, I did have time alone with sweetums, desparately needed time. We've been 'missing' each other so much lately. Living in the same house, but too busy to spend a lot of time together. We both know that the next year was going to probably be the hardest, while I finish school, start to work, and we still have kids in the house. Hopefully, next summer sweetums will be home full time, the 18 year old will be out of the house, DS will have his driver's license, and the radish will be working closer to home--that'll require either no driving on my part or just a few miles instead of 18 one way.

I go back and forth with wanting to stay busy, and when I get too busy I long for the quiet. If I have too much quiet I want to be busier. The day I find the balance will be a day to celebrate.

Weekly group

I hate the whole group thing. Not the group itself but when people say things like "oh, will you be at Group this week?" with a capital G. I'm not sure why it bugs me, other than it feels like bad grammar.

A couple of things were big for me tonight:

1. I binge after therapy, group or otherwise.
2. There is someone I can relate to in this group, our fathers and our relationships with them are very similar. She talked about longing to go home to visit, but anticipating rough emotional waters. I commented that I often feel the same way, but when I leave I still feel that longing. It's for a connection I can't have, even though I'm very close to my sister and her family. Part of it is that I don't have a good connection with my father and part of it is that I miss having family close by. Contridicting those parts is a third part that I'm relieved to live as far away as I do.

3. Another member said she fears that she can't take good care of herself, after all why would she let herself get as big as she is. Man, I could have said that myself. I have some work to do to forgive myself (thought I was done with that) for letting myself get this big. I have to find a way to realize that it was the best I could do at the time to fill the void--dealing with HD, dealing with depression, and dealing with school. The self-trust is hard in coming. There are signs of life...

1. I think I do take better care of myself. Things like buying expensive shampoo/conditioner because I like the smell. Or buying new makeup just to experiment. Or getting a pedicure on the spur of the moment.

2. Recognizing when I slip into negative thought patterns--even if it takes a few days it's still an improvement for me. Understanding that when some days are hard, it's because I still struggle with depression, or feelings in general.

3. Allow myself to feel more, articulating those feelings or at least struggling to articulate them instead of just blocking it our.

4. Understanding how good exercise makes me feel, even if I'm not yet consistant.

5. Sometimes--on rare occasions--looking in the mirror and being happy with what I see. At least from the neck up. Not being afraid to buy nice clothing at a size 16.

6. Lastly, journally and being okay with DH seeing all of this. Stay tuned, dearest Studly man 'o mine! Tomorrow I've got to get a few things about adoption (DS) and infertility off of my chest.

Progress...slow...but getting there. The grief work was easier, and I'm impatient for this to go as quickly. I really don't want to spend the next 10 years in therapy.

I'm a little disappointed in our financial management. Although much improved, I'm disappointed that we've managed to run up both credit cards again. I am, however, encouraged that we've managed to pay off one car, and have made enough cuts to make good headway with $1300 LESS each month. That's true financial management. We are still able to toss close to $1000/month at debt. So I am confident that we'll be able to continue making good headway. I'm also very proud of myself. This used to be a major source of anxiety, and I DID have a bit of a meltdown earlier this summer when we were anticipating another big income cut. I admit, I did freak out.

Another major change: We really, truly, certainly have a plan. An honest to goodness financial plan, one that anticipates changing income and although the prep is not finished yet, it IS on the books/in the works. Monthly bill time is kind of fun now, it's like a triumph each month, a mini-dragon to be slaid. I recall a time when we were both so bad at this that we would just ignore the pile of bills until we absolutely HAD to deal with it. My stomach would be in knots for a simple lack of knowledge. There was one incident in particular where we were in the basement, trying not to wake The Trio and as we opened everything we realized that we were quite solvent.

I do credit Dave Ramsey's methods with a lot of our success. We've tried the envelope system in the past with limited success...we just were not able to keep up the discipline for more than 6 months or so, or our momentum would be off set be unexpected expenses and we'd quite. This is the first time that I can recall that we've been able to keep this up for this long--over a year now. I do enjoy the Ramsey website, it's great for encouragement and ideas. There are a lot of wackos on there--just like everywhere else--but I consider that comic relief.

One thing that I'm not able to agree with is the 10% tithe. I don't think God mandates that anymore. He wants us to give freely with a cheerful heart and common sense tells us if the bottom line is in the red because of tithing, God will tell us not to give. Charity really DOES begin at home. Whoever said you can live better off of 90% than 100% clearly had enough money to do so; for the average middle class family with kids, car payments, a mortgage, and credit cards...well, that's just suicidal advice.

I do have a friend who did this. She couldn't pay the electrical bill, but knew if she wasn't current on her tithe that she couldn't get help from her church to pay the electric bill. That is NOT biblical, and I don't think God appreciates or approves of the actions of churches who twist his Word this way.

Too much

I can't wrap my head around this bridge collapse. It's just too sad. It's not a bridge I traveled often myself, but have been over it. The official death toll is fairly low, but with 20-30 people unaccounted for, is there any doubt where they are or what happened to them? My prayer when I heard was that God would bring a miracle, and that He would protect people.

So many things have been swimming through my head the last few days: Finances, adoption related stuff, foster kid stuff, my own eating disorder stuff. I'm not sure where to start. Daily updates, perhaps?

Yesterday I went bumming around with my friend Kelly, just dinner and a little shopping. On the spur of the moment I decided to get a pedicure, it felt so good and I have fresh polish with a cute little flower painted on each big toe. It never ceases to amaze me that such a simple little thing can be such a big deal.

Food for yesterday: big old quesadilla burger from Applebee's. Way too many calories, to my credit I didn't finish it or the french fries that came with it. I did have a very watered down glass of peach sangria and I split buffalo wings with Kelly too. Breakfast was a slice of buttered toast on the mega colon blow Natural Ovens bread, along with three pieces of bacon. I snacked on two tiny (Stud dear, what was the deal with the tiny pancakes??) pancakes with butter, coffee of course, a peach and a plum.

I made my puppies so happy with rawhides, they have not bugged me at all today. The boys, on the other hand need a lot more structure to keep them from bugging me. The 18 year old in particular is upset with me, as I'm watching CNN's coverage of the bridge collapse. He doesn't understand why this is something I want to keep watching. I'm a bit surprised, had it been the radish, I wouldn't have been. The 18 year old is far more empathetic, apparently not as much as I thought. They have no other entertainment besides the TV and video games, it's a herculean effort to get them to help with chores, but yet he's bucky about not being able to watch what he wants on TV.

Media vent: Already, the media vultures have descended. I'm no better, I'm watching CNN. Paula Zahn will cover this tonight, and that annoying, self-righteous pompous Oprah loving bonehead, Anderson Copper is going to be reporting live tonight, from Minneapolis. The government is talking about the crisis with our infrastructure. It annoys me that it takes a bridge collapsing before this is in the forefront of anyone's mind. Realistically, is our infrastructure going to be any safer? I doubt it. But I bet millions of Americans will jump on the bandwagon and end up *thinking* it's safer.

I think I'm going to do a few separate blogs today, just to try and organize my thoughts. Thank God, they are going to the library, they'll be out of my hair for a few hours. I wish I could enjoy them again, perhaps once school starts.

The radish woke up very upset this morning. He was mad because he was short on sleep and someone kept calling him half the night. He went on and on about how rude that is to wake someone up like that, repeatedly. I gently reminded him that I understood, as this is what happened to me (via HIM) most of the days that I had clinicals. He had the balls to tell me that it wasn't the same. Apparently, it's not the same thing since he didn't mean to wake me up, and I was able to fall asleep with his noise/chatter. I gently reminded him that the result was the same, regardless of his intent, and that after the first time he was yelled at it did indeed appear intentional and rude on his part. He still maintains it really isn't the same thing.

I truly can't get my coffee deprived brain around that one right now. Stupid me, I decided to 'catch up' and take both doses of wellbutrin yesterday, both after 5pm. Although extended release, I had only taken one dose on Saturday and none on Sunday due to poor planning (code for laziness) on my part. I wasn't able to get to sleep until close to 4am. I managed to drag my butt out of bed around 10am, but have the feeling I'll be dragged out most of the day.

I have managed to solve the coffee problem, as I roasted--beautifully I might add--a whole bunch of coffee this morning. To my delight, I found several bags of raw beans that had just a tiny bit left and I'm roasting a 'blend' right now. I know my dear, sweet stud will get a kick out of that. One of my quirks is mixing partial batches of everything. Lotion, cat/dog food, butter, margerine, shampoo, conditioner, makeup, and even coffee. I suspect it's a hold over from when my mom would buy compulsively. It drove me nuts. She'd go to the store every week and get the same things. We'd end up with 4-5 bottles of laundry soap and fabric softener. While I did enjoy the well stocked soda fridge and we always had convenience foods like frozen pizza in those days, the rest still bugged me. She'd randomly grab a bottle of soap and use it, so we'd end up with lots of partially full bottles. I'd combine them, when I was unable to stop her at the store. She always denied having anything wrong with her, and the word Huntington's disease was taboo.

Not so with my brother, thankfully. However, he is planning a 'surprise' wedding. Funny thing is, his fiance does not have HD, and she's going along with this. We already knew she was nuts anyway, it's just not killing her.

I'm so weak, I ungrounded DS this afternoon, simply because his moping about the house whining is really getting on my nerves. I admitted this to him, to which he replies "cool, it works!" CRAP!!! The radish non-chalantly walks out onto the deck tonight and comes back in smelling like smoke. He calmly empties his pockets--despite my explatives, which I'm not proud of--and nothing. Wow, clearly we were wrong! DH found the cigarettes on the deck. This will be his fourth smoking ticket this year.

Exercise=energy!! It felt so good to get back into the garden/yard today. After roasting beans, I set up the sprinklers and weeded this afternoon. I also found that I have big pumpkins and tons of corn! I can't believe my 4' high corn is actually producing. Surprisngly the weeds were insane, after only a few weeks hiatus, at which time things were well under control.

Follow my analogy here...it's not always a straight line when I do this: I planted veggies with the expectation that with a little fertilizer and TLC, they would produce. Along with the fertilizer, there a few weeds start growing. I keep pulling the weeds, but here and there they manage to reproduce, so I have to keep after the weeds. The radish reminds me of this. Although his behavior has improved with TLC, I've managed to drop a few weeds (mainly my filthy mouth and bad temper along the way). This seems to be what he clings to, throwing it up in my face whenever it suits him. If I could only see some fruit amongst the stunted growth, I'd have more energy to keep pulling the weeds.

This came up with the social workers today. They finally admitted he isn't making progress, and acknowledged what a difficult job we have with him. Yet the SW in charge refuses to look at additional/alternative services other than individual counseling, which any idiot can tell you won't, can't, and doesn't work with radishes! She did say that she didn't think residential was the way to go with him anymore, again showing her ignorance of all things mental health. She even lectured both boys about rebuilding a relationship with their psychotic mother. They have enough sense (self preservation instinct) to refuse to do this. Thank God for that!

Food note: Another good day: Natural ovens bread with natural peanut butter, a bowl of cereal, nearly a whole pot of coffee with milk (mostly, but some cream), a bowl of raspberries, hash browns with cheese, mashed potatoes (instant, low fat) and pot roast, very lean cuts of meat. I do notice the lack of veggies, but one day at a time, one habit at a time.