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".
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
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.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
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"
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"
Sunday, August 05, 2007
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, August 03, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Teenagers really are clueless
Most of our weekends are filled with lots of errands. I often try to combine these with the boys' work schedule, but since DS got fired from his job here in town, and the other two keep taking off of work, I was finally able to go to the store I like to go to, which is cheaper than the store I've been ending up at. My stud was able to come along too, I can't remember the last time that happened! It must be close to a year ago. I do recall a mall trip earlier this spring where we gave the boys their spring clothing money. Just tells me we don't get a lot of time alone. Ever. We used to shop together all the time.
Food update: The last several weeks sucked. My dietician AKA the Food Police would be very disappointed if he could see my food logs. However, today was much better and I used my actual hunger as a guide. It helps that I'm feeling a bit better too. Food for today was a 6" sub, a bag of baked chips, a yogurt, caramel high rise, a bowl of cereal, and three squares of homemade pizza.
I also canned marinara sauce, using tomatoes purchased from a local farmer's market and a mix. The finished cans are now happily popping on the counter. My black lab is unhappy with the noise. He can't figure out what it is!
Something has been bothering our radish all weekend. Turns out, he couldn't figure out if he should go back out with a girl who dumped him for "no reason". Something tells me he's not worried about getting hurt but rather he was weighing his options and trying to figure out if he would get something out of this relationship. Since he has the "emotional range of a teaspoon" to quote Hermione Granger, I doubt that he's looking for emotional closeness or even anything remotely close to what most teenagers are looking for in a dating relationship. I worried about what he does want from her.
Overall, a very quiet weekend that ended late, about 2am. I had to be up early, but much later than the last eight weeks. I started my pt job training today. What a freakin' joke! Although there is no doubt in my mind that this will be a good to build my total patient care skills, the 'training' was geared to the lowest common denominator. At one point, I almost walked out, it was that demeaning. I managed to focus instead on what my dear, sweet stud had told me: This will be good spending money for me, or pad our Christmas fund. However, it really ticks me off that I spent the last 8 weeks being completely responsible for patients' well being but have to be supervised by a licensed RN, who has to check my meds before I can give them and now I spend 1/2 hour reading do's and don't's of med distribution and I can pass meds as a personal care worker. Something does not sit well with me. First off, the lowest common denominator...and than after 1/2 hour of unsupervised reading and a few multiple choice questions I'm qualified to do this unsupervised??? WTF? If this is how we are getting more people into the least restrictive care setting I have a serious problem with it and question the quality of care provided.
As usual, I sell myself short. Although I tend to have unrealistically high expectations of my own performance, my poor self esteem sells me short on actual jobs. I'll take it as a good sign that today's 'training' pissed me off.
I burned off my frustrations by laughing at the misfortunes of our radish, who ended up in town all day after screwing up his work schedule again. I did manage to take pity on him and bought him some chicken fingers at the deli. Did he take any money with him? No, of course not, he expected to fill up--FILL UP--on free root beer at work!! He didn't eat breakfast, he didn't pack a lunch, and I really, really, really debated getting him anything to eat.
My McDonald's bag guilted me into it.
After getting home, I tried to clean the house as quickly as possible. I hate coming home to a mess and even though my sweet stud doesn't seem to mind, it can't hurt to try and have a clean quiet house for him to come home to, can it? I even managed to shampoo the living room rug before he got home. While I'm working up a sweat, DS is whining on the couch about how bored he is. One would think he would have learned not to say such things, especially when his mother is cleaning like a madwoman. He clearly has some form of ADD that permits him to forget such things. I managed to guilt him into taking out a bag of garbage and feed the dogs.
Update: Even though he's watching a movie now, I know he's bored to tears. He's picking at his toes, and I can only thank God right now that he's lost the flexibility to get him into his mouth. He used to chew the toenails, a habit that made me nauseated every time I saw him do it. I know how often he washes those feet!
Food update: The last several weeks sucked. My dietician AKA the Food Police would be very disappointed if he could see my food logs. However, today was much better and I used my actual hunger as a guide. It helps that I'm feeling a bit better too. Food for today was a 6" sub, a bag of baked chips, a yogurt, caramel high rise, a bowl of cereal, and three squares of homemade pizza.
I also canned marinara sauce, using tomatoes purchased from a local farmer's market and a mix. The finished cans are now happily popping on the counter. My black lab is unhappy with the noise. He can't figure out what it is!
Something has been bothering our radish all weekend. Turns out, he couldn't figure out if he should go back out with a girl who dumped him for "no reason". Something tells me he's not worried about getting hurt but rather he was weighing his options and trying to figure out if he would get something out of this relationship. Since he has the "emotional range of a teaspoon" to quote Hermione Granger, I doubt that he's looking for emotional closeness or even anything remotely close to what most teenagers are looking for in a dating relationship. I worried about what he does want from her.
Overall, a very quiet weekend that ended late, about 2am. I had to be up early, but much later than the last eight weeks. I started my pt job training today. What a freakin' joke! Although there is no doubt in my mind that this will be a good to build my total patient care skills, the 'training' was geared to the lowest common denominator. At one point, I almost walked out, it was that demeaning. I managed to focus instead on what my dear, sweet stud had told me: This will be good spending money for me, or pad our Christmas fund. However, it really ticks me off that I spent the last 8 weeks being completely responsible for patients' well being but have to be supervised by a licensed RN, who has to check my meds before I can give them and now I spend 1/2 hour reading do's and don't's of med distribution and I can pass meds as a personal care worker. Something does not sit well with me. First off, the lowest common denominator...and than after 1/2 hour of unsupervised reading and a few multiple choice questions I'm qualified to do this unsupervised??? WTF? If this is how we are getting more people into the least restrictive care setting I have a serious problem with it and question the quality of care provided.
As usual, I sell myself short. Although I tend to have unrealistically high expectations of my own performance, my poor self esteem sells me short on actual jobs. I'll take it as a good sign that today's 'training' pissed me off.
I burned off my frustrations by laughing at the misfortunes of our radish, who ended up in town all day after screwing up his work schedule again. I did manage to take pity on him and bought him some chicken fingers at the deli. Did he take any money with him? No, of course not, he expected to fill up--FILL UP--on free root beer at work!! He didn't eat breakfast, he didn't pack a lunch, and I really, really, really debated getting him anything to eat.
My McDonald's bag guilted me into it.
After getting home, I tried to clean the house as quickly as possible. I hate coming home to a mess and even though my sweet stud doesn't seem to mind, it can't hurt to try and have a clean quiet house for him to come home to, can it? I even managed to shampoo the living room rug before he got home. While I'm working up a sweat, DS is whining on the couch about how bored he is. One would think he would have learned not to say such things, especially when his mother is cleaning like a madwoman. He clearly has some form of ADD that permits him to forget such things. I managed to guilt him into taking out a bag of garbage and feed the dogs.
Update: Even though he's watching a movie now, I know he's bored to tears. He's picking at his toes, and I can only thank God right now that he's lost the flexibility to get him into his mouth. He used to chew the toenails, a habit that made me nauseated every time I saw him do it. I know how often he washes those feet!
Things I hate
1. Mucus
2. The nasty feel of morning mucus
3. Trying to brush the morning mucus out of my mouth, and gagging.
4. Dry, crusty boogers
5. ungrateful children
6. ungrateful childern who wake me up in the middle of the night, not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES.
7. Those same ungrateful children, who have the nerve to accuse use of waking them up at the un-godly hour of 9am.
8. Not having the energy to clean my house
9. not having the energy to love my stud
10. plugged up ears.
I think the picture says it all.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Cold or allergies
I'm strongly leaning towards cold. I've tried lots of the usual allergy remedies. Man, I hope I don't get the baby we were with yesterday sick. So, another day of laying low. I would love to be abel to get outside and so something active today, but I'm just feeling too dizzy and crappy. Instead, I'm just going to camp out in front of the tv, on the 'puter and maybe with a bowl of noodles.
The dogs are missing spending time outside. This is an old photo, but another example of why the kids can't be left alone with our pets for a long period of time. Our sweet Palmer is just too obedient! I'm also reminded that I should use that camera more, time slips away so fast. Every day at clinicals the song 100 Years, by Five for Fighting would go through my head:
I'm 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
I'm 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I'm a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind
I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on...
I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
15 there's still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day's a new day...
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
My stud hates this song, because its sung in falsetto. But I love the lyrics. Each of the people I cared for was an echo of this song. One woman in particular, who said "but you just don't know--you can't know you're not 80." when I offered her sympathy for her aches and pains will stick with me. Still, I'll be glad when we're done with geriatrics. I still have four weeks of that to go, and although these people have blessed and enhanced my life it'll be a relief to be done.
I'm hoping to get a lot done around the house the next month. This cold is not a good start!
Thursday, July 26, 2007
The ignorance of youth
Surprisingly, this rant is not about my kidlets, but rather dh's second cousin. After a wonderful lunch paid for by his aunt, his 19 year old cousin announces--with her 5 month old baby in her arms--that they are ttc'ing #2. WTF? She says her dh is already working long hours, often 16 hours. And they think another baby would be a good idea. I have no doubt she's a good mother, I've seen that first hand. Youth is lucky, most of the time they walk around clueless. There are a few out there that lose that ignorance early. They are usually easy to spot. Serious, and they look older than they really are. I think I'm one of those people. This cousin, on the other hand, gives the appearance of innocence, despite coming from a divorced home and a mother with a drug problem. If only she didn't seem like she was just playing.
In other news, DS announced he's sick of the other boys leaving dishes in the basement. I gently reminded him of the cup 'o cereal he forgot about several months back. By the time my stud and I found it, there was no hope. The whole glass had to be thrown out. Although he admitted to it "opps, sorry, hahaha!" he now maintains that he's not guilty because he "NEVER" used those mugs. He ONLY used the regular glasses. Yeah, and I never overeat. Ever.
To quarterback Michael Vick: You have how much money and your prefered past time is to bet on dog fighting? You sick bastard.
Back to the modest dress thing, the women I saw walking who I found so interesting. I quick Google search "modest dress" came up with:
1 Timothy 2:9-10 "In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety: not with broided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array: But (which becometh women professing godliness) with good works". Followed closely by: Slacks or pants on a woman are also immodest, because they reveal the form of the body. I know that some people consider slacks more modest than a dress. But if the dresses are long enough, a woman can do many things without appearing immodest. For someone who has only worn slacks for many years, it does take some practice to learn how to work in a dress. But it can be done.
Finally, I ran across a christian message board where this was being discussed. One argument used was that immodest dress is something that's new. HA!! This only works if you go with the argument that immodest dress started when women started wearing pants. So, my question is, ever been to a local Renaissance fair? No? Oh, no wonder you think that all pre-1940's dress was modest. That's like saying "but we all used to do it, so it must be right". I have to resort then to the parental argument of "If all your friends jumped off a bridge would you?" These same individuals use the wine wasn't as strong back then and now in the 21st century all alcohol is evil argument in regards to drinking. If it's such a strong conviction, why not just say that? why not just say because I want to dress this way. I don't get why if someone is willing to make such a public statement with their clothing they can't just say that. When hiding behind scripture to defend it, it would be useful if the scripture actually made sense to what the action is. Otherwise, you jsut end up looking like a quack.
In other news, DS announced he's sick of the other boys leaving dishes in the basement. I gently reminded him of the cup 'o cereal he forgot about several months back. By the time my stud and I found it, there was no hope. The whole glass had to be thrown out. Although he admitted to it "opps, sorry, hahaha!" he now maintains that he's not guilty because he "NEVER" used those mugs. He ONLY used the regular glasses. Yeah, and I never overeat. Ever.
To quarterback Michael Vick: You have how much money and your prefered past time is to bet on dog fighting? You sick bastard.
Back to the modest dress thing, the women I saw walking who I found so interesting. I quick Google search "modest dress" came up with:
1 Timothy 2:9-10 "In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety: not with broided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array: But (which becometh women professing godliness) with good works". Followed closely by: Slacks or pants on a woman are also immodest, because they reveal the form of the body. I know that some people consider slacks more modest than a dress. But if the dresses are long enough, a woman can do many things without appearing immodest. For someone who has only worn slacks for many years, it does take some practice to learn how to work in a dress. But it can be done.
Finally, I ran across a christian message board where this was being discussed. One argument used was that immodest dress is something that's new. HA!! This only works if you go with the argument that immodest dress started when women started wearing pants. So, my question is, ever been to a local Renaissance fair? No? Oh, no wonder you think that all pre-1940's dress was modest. That's like saying "but we all used to do it, so it must be right". I have to resort then to the parental argument of "If all your friends jumped off a bridge would you?" These same individuals use the wine wasn't as strong back then and now in the 21st century all alcohol is evil argument in regards to drinking. If it's such a strong conviction, why not just say that? why not just say because I want to dress this way. I don't get why if someone is willing to make such a public statement with their clothing they can't just say that. When hiding behind scripture to defend it, it would be useful if the scripture actually made sense to what the action is. Otherwise, you jsut end up looking like a quack.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Dear social workers:
Please think back to a time when you wanted to become a social worker to help children and vulnerable adults. Do you remember that? Was it so long ago that budgets and bosses are now in the forefront of your mind while children and foster parents are the annoyance of your day? My boys need you to remember that at one time you wanted to actually help them. My boys ask that you not insult us, and remember that good foster parents are as rare has Harry Potter's invisibility cloak. Consider for a moment that we didn't just randomly breed, but actually had your boss' blessing to care for children. We passed background checks, had personal references from loved ones saying we actually were good people, were grilled by people just like you to insure that we were indeed qualified to care for children. You all know we are uncommonly good at what we do.
By the way, although you might have children too--they are not like the ones you send to live with us. Many of you seem to be forgetting the fact that the children who grace our home will punch holes in walls, smash glass into the carpet, poison the dog, try and have sex with anything they can, and try to literally swing from the chandeliers. Do your kids do that? No? Well, we've managed to work hard and get them to stop most of those behaviors and when we say we need more help, we are not kidding! We don't ask because we are lazy, we don't ask because we want to waste county or state money. We ask because we see a child's fragile life, a child who HAD a chance, being thrown away. You've asked us to 'manage' the behaviors. Why? Why do you want to manage behaviors? Why do you want a child to suffer, and to get to a point where he will be unable to heal. Think for a moment, if we manage him until he's 18, then what? Who is going to manage him after that? Oh, that's right the state corrections board. Hey, wouldn't it be ironic if it's your house, car, etc that he vandalizes next?
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Last night, FIL was here, and we were standing outside talking to him. Three women were out walking, all in long skirts. It got me thinking about the religious convictions that they hold, as this is meant to be a sign of modesty. For these women, it would be wrong to be dressed in pants or shorts, this would not only be immodest, it would be sinful. As a lover of all things flowy and feminine, I get it. Looking in the mirror, however, long skirts on 5' and fat is just not flattering. I guess that means I'm not modest. OR it could mean that I don't think God cares what we wear, as God looks at our hearts, not our outward appearance. More on this another time. It just bugs me...that's why there will be more.
Note to self: Don't argue with a former lit. professor about any book-even Harry Potter.
Note to lit professor: Don't make a religious analogy comparision unless you mean it. Because if you're going to go there, even with Harry Potter I WILL quote scripture.
Please think back to a time when you wanted to become a social worker to help children and vulnerable adults. Do you remember that? Was it so long ago that budgets and bosses are now in the forefront of your mind while children and foster parents are the annoyance of your day? My boys need you to remember that at one time you wanted to actually help them. My boys ask that you not insult us, and remember that good foster parents are as rare has Harry Potter's invisibility cloak. Consider for a moment that we didn't just randomly breed, but actually had your boss' blessing to care for children. We passed background checks, had personal references from loved ones saying we actually were good people, were grilled by people just like you to insure that we were indeed qualified to care for children. You all know we are uncommonly good at what we do.
By the way, although you might have children too--they are not like the ones you send to live with us. Many of you seem to be forgetting the fact that the children who grace our home will punch holes in walls, smash glass into the carpet, poison the dog, try and have sex with anything they can, and try to literally swing from the chandeliers. Do your kids do that? No? Well, we've managed to work hard and get them to stop most of those behaviors and when we say we need more help, we are not kidding! We don't ask because we are lazy, we don't ask because we want to waste county or state money. We ask because we see a child's fragile life, a child who HAD a chance, being thrown away. You've asked us to 'manage' the behaviors. Why? Why do you want to manage behaviors? Why do you want a child to suffer, and to get to a point where he will be unable to heal. Think for a moment, if we manage him until he's 18, then what? Who is going to manage him after that? Oh, that's right the state corrections board. Hey, wouldn't it be ironic if it's your house, car, etc that he vandalizes next?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Last night, FIL was here, and we were standing outside talking to him. Three women were out walking, all in long skirts. It got me thinking about the religious convictions that they hold, as this is meant to be a sign of modesty. For these women, it would be wrong to be dressed in pants or shorts, this would not only be immodest, it would be sinful. As a lover of all things flowy and feminine, I get it. Looking in the mirror, however, long skirts on 5' and fat is just not flattering. I guess that means I'm not modest. OR it could mean that I don't think God cares what we wear, as God looks at our hearts, not our outward appearance. More on this another time. It just bugs me...that's why there will be more.
Note to self: Don't argue with a former lit. professor about any book-even Harry Potter.
Note to lit professor: Don't make a religious analogy comparision unless you mean it. Because if you're going to go there, even with Harry Potter I WILL quote scripture.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Ah! RADishes
So I turn the TV channel to The Cosby Show, because I love watching old sitcoms. Who doesn't like watching all of life's problems solved in 30 minutes? Actually less because there are a lot of commercials! So one of the radishes is annoyed:
Radish: Why are you watching this?
Me: Because I like this show
Radish: Why, it's stupid
Me: I said, because I like it...I like old sitcoms, I watch them all the time.
Radish: Yeah, I know they're dumb.
At this point, I really, really, really just want to tell him to stuff it. As if I like watch ESPN all day, I usually feel my IQ dropping. 10 minutes later, he comes downstairs again. He starts babbling about nothing:
We have cereal again?
Did you buy cereal?
(me not answering, but thinking: No, the cereal fairy, who is a second cousin to the super glue fairy once removed planted it there. It's actually magic cereal. No calories. Perhaps I'll have a bowl of no calorie super glue fairy leaving cereal before I go to bed.)
Next he picks up a bottle of benedryl:
Is this what you took? Do you have a cold?
I interrupt: I know what you are doing, I changed the channel (he saw all of 15 min. of a movie my stud left on) and now you are chattering absolute nonesense to get on my nerves. He hides a smile while pouring Fairy Cereal.
Well, he says, you changed the channel. I don't like this show. I told him to go to bed. Meanwhile, Bill Cosby is sure Vanessa is going to fall out of her strapless dress. My father wouldn't even acknowledge the possibility that the lumps in my strapless dress were breasts. I think he would have gone blind on the spot if had seen my prom dress. The tampons left on the truck seat, after all, where 'things' I had to get out of bed to remove from the truck seat. Clearly, such a manly truck would not operate correctly with tampons on the front seat. Acknowledging even a simple function of the female body was too much for him.
DS decided to rat out the radishes for waking him up at the unheard of *GASP* 11:30 am. DS is working his way through the rest of the Fairy Cereal, he makes my binges look like a light snack.
Speaking of Radishes, the only way I've been able to deal with the younger radish lately is to ignore him. Clearly, this is not going to accomplish any bonding. I really don't think that's going to happen anyway. I should probably feel sorry for him. Perhaps when school starts again I'll be able to, and perhaps I'll be able to be a treatement parent again.
Light bulb moment: I know why I've been so bingey the last couple of days. I feel like crap! When I have a cold I just can't seem to stop. I have to keep eating in order to keep the junk in my throat down. Bendryl and booze mix pretty well...not as good as booze and vicodin, but still pretty good. Stupid, but now that I know why I've been eating so much, I kinda gave myself permission, and I can get rid of the guilty feeling. I doubt Pam will appreciate that, she'll tell me to pull out the list of alternative self care activities, but none of those get rid of the yucky throat feeling. A 12 pack of ice cold coke would work too, but in the meantime here come the bing cherries.
These kids must be vampires! The don't sleep at night at all. I'm curious if after three bendryl I can stay up longer than they can.
Radish: Why are you watching this?
Me: Because I like this show
Radish: Why, it's stupid
Me: I said, because I like it...I like old sitcoms, I watch them all the time.
Radish: Yeah, I know they're dumb.
At this point, I really, really, really just want to tell him to stuff it. As if I like watch ESPN all day, I usually feel my IQ dropping. 10 minutes later, he comes downstairs again. He starts babbling about nothing:
We have cereal again?
Did you buy cereal?
(me not answering, but thinking: No, the cereal fairy, who is a second cousin to the super glue fairy once removed planted it there. It's actually magic cereal. No calories. Perhaps I'll have a bowl of no calorie super glue fairy leaving cereal before I go to bed.)
Next he picks up a bottle of benedryl:
Is this what you took? Do you have a cold?
I interrupt: I know what you are doing, I changed the channel (he saw all of 15 min. of a movie my stud left on) and now you are chattering absolute nonesense to get on my nerves. He hides a smile while pouring Fairy Cereal.
Well, he says, you changed the channel. I don't like this show. I told him to go to bed. Meanwhile, Bill Cosby is sure Vanessa is going to fall out of her strapless dress. My father wouldn't even acknowledge the possibility that the lumps in my strapless dress were breasts. I think he would have gone blind on the spot if had seen my prom dress. The tampons left on the truck seat, after all, where 'things' I had to get out of bed to remove from the truck seat. Clearly, such a manly truck would not operate correctly with tampons on the front seat. Acknowledging even a simple function of the female body was too much for him.
DS decided to rat out the radishes for waking him up at the unheard of *GASP* 11:30 am. DS is working his way through the rest of the Fairy Cereal, he makes my binges look like a light snack.
Speaking of Radishes, the only way I've been able to deal with the younger radish lately is to ignore him. Clearly, this is not going to accomplish any bonding. I really don't think that's going to happen anyway. I should probably feel sorry for him. Perhaps when school starts again I'll be able to, and perhaps I'll be able to be a treatement parent again.
Light bulb moment: I know why I've been so bingey the last couple of days. I feel like crap! When I have a cold I just can't seem to stop. I have to keep eating in order to keep the junk in my throat down. Bendryl and booze mix pretty well...not as good as booze and vicodin, but still pretty good. Stupid, but now that I know why I've been eating so much, I kinda gave myself permission, and I can get rid of the guilty feeling. I doubt Pam will appreciate that, she'll tell me to pull out the list of alternative self care activities, but none of those get rid of the yucky throat feeling. A 12 pack of ice cold coke would work too, but in the meantime here come the bing cherries.
These kids must be vampires! The don't sleep at night at all. I'm curious if after three bendryl I can stay up longer than they can.
When I think about you...
I bet you were expecting "I touch myself".
We have been living together for 13 years now, and the number 13 might be unlucky to some but not to me. It means that we've been sharing a life for over 1/3 of the time we've been on this planet together. Next month celebrates 14 years since I first saw your gorgeous blue eyes, since I first knew without a doubt you were the man for me. It was as if there was an angel (not Trey) tapping me on the shoulder saying "Pay attention, this is THE one". Despite my obviously poor choice that evening, by the next afternoon I was telling Sarah "I think I like him". I have no idea why I told my dad just a few days later that I'd met the man I was going to marry. The angel on my shoulder was the one dialing the phone because I sure as hell couldn't remember the phone number.
That first year was tough, I wanted to be so perfect for you. You were so patient with me, and I doubt either one of us realized I was in a deep depression. Still, as frustrating as that must of been for you, you loved me. ME!!! Some days I still can't believe my luck.
The past 14 years have been amazing. We were just 20 years old--not even old enough to drink. We were working food service jobs, and trying to get through school. Some things never change, but thank God the cooking and waitressing are behind us, eh? We've been through a lot together--for richer or poorer, and sickness and oh, well relative (mental) health. Now you're sticking with me through all this food BS, well, I'm just so grateful. I'm afraid you'll wake up one day and say "she's one f'ed up chick, I can do better" cuz you probably can. But thanks for not looking.
I truly do think you're the best and wouldn't want to do all this without you. I love how you just listen (tune me out perhaps?) to me babble about school and clinicals, and all the crazy people I deal with every day. I love how you just let me vent about social workers and the kids. I love how you never tell me I'm wrong but just let me get it all out and work it out for myself.
My love, my confidante, my stud muffin, you're the other half of my heart, the part that makes me whole.
We have been living together for 13 years now, and the number 13 might be unlucky to some but not to me. It means that we've been sharing a life for over 1/3 of the time we've been on this planet together. Next month celebrates 14 years since I first saw your gorgeous blue eyes, since I first knew without a doubt you were the man for me. It was as if there was an angel (not Trey) tapping me on the shoulder saying "Pay attention, this is THE one". Despite my obviously poor choice that evening, by the next afternoon I was telling Sarah "I think I like him". I have no idea why I told my dad just a few days later that I'd met the man I was going to marry. The angel on my shoulder was the one dialing the phone because I sure as hell couldn't remember the phone number.
That first year was tough, I wanted to be so perfect for you. You were so patient with me, and I doubt either one of us realized I was in a deep depression. Still, as frustrating as that must of been for you, you loved me. ME!!! Some days I still can't believe my luck.
The past 14 years have been amazing. We were just 20 years old--not even old enough to drink. We were working food service jobs, and trying to get through school. Some things never change, but thank God the cooking and waitressing are behind us, eh? We've been through a lot together--for richer or poorer, and sickness and oh, well relative (mental) health. Now you're sticking with me through all this food BS, well, I'm just so grateful. I'm afraid you'll wake up one day and say "she's one f'ed up chick, I can do better" cuz you probably can. But thanks for not looking.
I truly do think you're the best and wouldn't want to do all this without you. I love how you just listen (tune me out perhaps?) to me babble about school and clinicals, and all the crazy people I deal with every day. I love how you just let me vent about social workers and the kids. I love how you never tell me I'm wrong but just let me get it all out and work it out for myself.
My love, my confidante, my stud muffin, you're the other half of my heart, the part that makes me whole.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
9 1/2 Hours
Today is mom’s birthday again. I hadn’t thought about it until I awoke from a nap. Bummer. I was hyper all the rest of the weekend too. Two years ago, when Half Blood Prince came out, it was little more than a distraction. A welcome one, but still just a distraction from the hurt I was feeling. Deathly Hallows was one I eagerly anticipated, but was sad to finish. Since 2003, when Order of the Phoenix came out, I’ve waited for the mail on the release date, just about stalking the mail man. This year, he snuck up on me, but once I got that book in my hands there was no stopping me. I finished it in 9 ½ hours, I knew there would be no sleep until it was finished. The book was great, but JKR promised that there would be no loop holes. I guess that depends on how you define a loophole. As I see it there are tons of unanswered questions:
1. What happens to the Malfoys? Do they do time in Azkaban, and does Harry testify to Narcissa's betrayal of Voldemort, although it is for selfish reasons?
2. Who does Draco marry?
3. Where do Harry and Ginny live? My guess is Godric’s Hollow.
4. Ron and Hermione? My guess is right next door to Harry and Ginny.
5. What are their jobs?
6. Does McGonnegal take over as headmistress?
7. What does George do without Fred?
For me, this means no end to the hours of discussion, the theories, and the possibility of ‘spin offs’. JKR might be done with Hogwarts and the world of Harry Potter, but the rest of us are not. I look forward to a generation of kids who have never heard of Harry Potter. Kids to whom I’ll be able to say “oh, this is a good book; I think you’ll like it”. Having them enjoy it, being able to talk about it to a new generation who weren’t around at the inception of Mugglenet. Of watching them wonder what’s going to happen next, and being able to say “just keep reading, you’ll see!” I liken it to when my Stud was a child and saw the original Star Wars. He had to wait years for the second one, something my nephew and our little darlings found hard to believe. In their world, the obvious question is when is the sequel coming out? The answer was usually next summer. We’ve been fortunate, the movies have been only about a year to a year and a half apart. The original Star Wars had three years between each of them. My thanks goes out to Rowling for at least trimming that down a bit. I wasn’t introduced to the Potter series until 2001, so I only had to wait 2 years between each of the installments.
Speaking of my introduction to Hogwarts, it was due to a young boy who was reading these books in his extremely conservative Christian school. I still find it hard to believe that anyone has objections to these books on the basis of “witchcraft”. When’s the last time anyone saw a pagan witch or wizard saying “oh, JKR has really got us pegged! How did she know about our wands?” The world of fantasy has been around since human beings have had imaginations. Wizards, potions, spells, wands, magical creatures…goblins, unicorns, giants, dragons…the list goes on. Interestingly enough, JKR addresses this very issue in her books. There are wizards who hate muggles, and muggles, like Harry’s aunt and uncle, who hate magic, that which they refuse to try and understand. Huh, wonder where an idea like that ever came from.
It is sad that the series is at an end. Those 9 ½ hours flew by. It was a welcome distraction, again, but for very different reasons. This time, it was pure escapism for the enjoyment of it. Our lives are changing rapidly, yet again, and I can feel it happening. Part of me is saying stop don’t do it! Part of me is looking forward to the next adventure that is on the way for us. A strange sort of melancholy has settled on me, a feeling I have trouble putting into words and understanding. If I’ve learned anything about myself I know it means that I need to exercise more, and write more. Nothing centers me more than these two things. I’m just anxious to get through this part. I miss my days home alone, I can’t wait for that first Monday when the boys are in school. I’m nervous about starting a new job, I nervous about new teachers again. Telling myself I’m being foolish doesn’t help.
1. What happens to the Malfoys? Do they do time in Azkaban, and does Harry testify to Narcissa's betrayal of Voldemort, although it is for selfish reasons?
2. Who does Draco marry?
3. Where do Harry and Ginny live? My guess is Godric’s Hollow.
4. Ron and Hermione? My guess is right next door to Harry and Ginny.
5. What are their jobs?
6. Does McGonnegal take over as headmistress?
7. What does George do without Fred?
For me, this means no end to the hours of discussion, the theories, and the possibility of ‘spin offs’. JKR might be done with Hogwarts and the world of Harry Potter, but the rest of us are not. I look forward to a generation of kids who have never heard of Harry Potter. Kids to whom I’ll be able to say “oh, this is a good book; I think you’ll like it”. Having them enjoy it, being able to talk about it to a new generation who weren’t around at the inception of Mugglenet. Of watching them wonder what’s going to happen next, and being able to say “just keep reading, you’ll see!” I liken it to when my Stud was a child and saw the original Star Wars. He had to wait years for the second one, something my nephew and our little darlings found hard to believe. In their world, the obvious question is when is the sequel coming out? The answer was usually next summer. We’ve been fortunate, the movies have been only about a year to a year and a half apart. The original Star Wars had three years between each of them. My thanks goes out to Rowling for at least trimming that down a bit. I wasn’t introduced to the Potter series until 2001, so I only had to wait 2 years between each of the installments.
Speaking of my introduction to Hogwarts, it was due to a young boy who was reading these books in his extremely conservative Christian school. I still find it hard to believe that anyone has objections to these books on the basis of “witchcraft”. When’s the last time anyone saw a pagan witch or wizard saying “oh, JKR has really got us pegged! How did she know about our wands?” The world of fantasy has been around since human beings have had imaginations. Wizards, potions, spells, wands, magical creatures…goblins, unicorns, giants, dragons…the list goes on. Interestingly enough, JKR addresses this very issue in her books. There are wizards who hate muggles, and muggles, like Harry’s aunt and uncle, who hate magic, that which they refuse to try and understand. Huh, wonder where an idea like that ever came from.
It is sad that the series is at an end. Those 9 ½ hours flew by. It was a welcome distraction, again, but for very different reasons. This time, it was pure escapism for the enjoyment of it. Our lives are changing rapidly, yet again, and I can feel it happening. Part of me is saying stop don’t do it! Part of me is looking forward to the next adventure that is on the way for us. A strange sort of melancholy has settled on me, a feeling I have trouble putting into words and understanding. If I’ve learned anything about myself I know it means that I need to exercise more, and write more. Nothing centers me more than these two things. I’m just anxious to get through this part. I miss my days home alone, I can’t wait for that first Monday when the boys are in school. I’m nervous about starting a new job, I nervous about new teachers again. Telling myself I’m being foolish doesn’t help.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Binge free days
I've had several binge free days in a row. Supposedly, this gets easier. So far, um, nope. Fitday says my average calories consumed over the last 7 days is 1,900 calories. Supposedly that's enough based on my basal metabolic rate (no exercise) for me to lose 1.2 pounds a week. We'll see. DH threw the scale away, although I have had the chance to sneak on other scales and I know I've lost 4 pounds. Four lousy pounds for what feels to be an enormous amount of work.
Every bit of food is a careful, thought out decision. I envy anyone who can just grab something and not think about it. Those behaviors got me to over 200 pounds. But no bingine since Monday night. The only other incident that I don't qualify as overeating was the night we discovered the boys had been stealing from us. But I shopped instead, and then DH and I ate out. Although I thought I chose wisely, Chipotle, like every other chain restaurant out there has way too many calories in everything they make.
Finally got Christmas money from Dad, and instead of the old "whew, now I'll be able to pay that bill" I'm actually going to spend a good chunk of it on myself. Guilt free, hopefully with DH.
Every bit of food is a careful, thought out decision. I envy anyone who can just grab something and not think about it. Those behaviors got me to over 200 pounds. But no bingine since Monday night. The only other incident that I don't qualify as overeating was the night we discovered the boys had been stealing from us. But I shopped instead, and then DH and I ate out. Although I thought I chose wisely, Chipotle, like every other chain restaurant out there has way too many calories in everything they make.
Finally got Christmas money from Dad, and instead of the old "whew, now I'll be able to pay that bill" I'm actually going to spend a good chunk of it on myself. Guilt free, hopefully with DH.
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