How on earth could I think he was sick? Or old? Or frail?
The only thing he is, is a really good actor.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
No Motherly Intuition
Do you ever have a “gut feeling”? Like Gibbs on NCIS? I started feeling a little uneasy about The Fonz lately, Dr. Nadene brought up how he was limping (still don’t see it!), I found a couple of new lumps on him, and he’s been really clingy lately. And then, the other night, just lying on the floor of the nursery while Sam brought me book after book to read one page of, his teeth chattered for like, 10 seconds, and even the top of his head was quivering. Something was not right.
I’ve never been a big fan of my gut, whether the one that sticks out from a shirt that is too short because I have a weirdly long torso, or the one that tells me things. Specifically, the one that tells me things incorrectly. Like how Samantha was going to be a boy. Yeah, missed the mark on that one. Or how I was sure my wedding would have no major disasters. (lost childhood photos, anyone?) I seem to have no intuition at all.
So I was hoping that my gut was again wrong when Fonz and I went to the vet this afternoon. I LOVE my vet, and even though I didn’t get to see her, I got to see the tech that I love, the office manager who I love, and also another one of the vets there…who I love. She found four new lumps on Fonz, and rotated and manipulated his legs and felt there was nothing wrong, except maybe a tweaked knee. But she was happy to oblige my request for x-rays, you know, since I am a hypochondriac. Well, a canine hypochondriac.
And lo and behold, not only is there NO CANCER, but there is HARDLY ANY ARTHRITIS! No wonder Fonz runs around like he is two, he’s all hopped up on pain meds! (or, as one friend pointed out, addicted to pain meds) It would seem as though the years of supplements might be doing him some good. (or he has good genes…I’d like to think the money spent is why) And YET AGAIN, my gut is wrong. Awesome.
I think that perhaps Fonz has adopted my canine hypochondria, because as soon as we got home, he was literally bouncing up and down in front of me, playing bowing, tossing a toy in the air, bringing it to me, running away, hopping up on the bed, hopping down off the bed, and begging for treats. He must’ve heard me when I said that he was as healthy as a horse. I really think he wanted me to drop $157 just so he could feel better. I know I do.
I’ve never been a big fan of my gut, whether the one that sticks out from a shirt that is too short because I have a weirdly long torso, or the one that tells me things. Specifically, the one that tells me things incorrectly. Like how Samantha was going to be a boy. Yeah, missed the mark on that one. Or how I was sure my wedding would have no major disasters. (lost childhood photos, anyone?) I seem to have no intuition at all.
So I was hoping that my gut was again wrong when Fonz and I went to the vet this afternoon. I LOVE my vet, and even though I didn’t get to see her, I got to see the tech that I love, the office manager who I love, and also another one of the vets there…who I love. She found four new lumps on Fonz, and rotated and manipulated his legs and felt there was nothing wrong, except maybe a tweaked knee. But she was happy to oblige my request for x-rays, you know, since I am a hypochondriac. Well, a canine hypochondriac.
And lo and behold, not only is there NO CANCER, but there is HARDLY ANY ARTHRITIS! No wonder Fonz runs around like he is two, he’s all hopped up on pain meds! (or, as one friend pointed out, addicted to pain meds) It would seem as though the years of supplements might be doing him some good. (or he has good genes…I’d like to think the money spent is why) And YET AGAIN, my gut is wrong. Awesome.
I think that perhaps Fonz has adopted my canine hypochondria, because as soon as we got home, he was literally bouncing up and down in front of me, playing bowing, tossing a toy in the air, bringing it to me, running away, hopping up on the bed, hopping down off the bed, and begging for treats. He must’ve heard me when I said that he was as healthy as a horse. I really think he wanted me to drop $157 just so he could feel better. I know I do.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Updates Like Crazy!
My dad is doing well, according to me. According to him, he is not as far along as he'd like to be. Him and my mom don't see the vast improvements, since they are there every day. But trust me...there are improvements!!
My sister who lives in Germany left on Tuesday morning, and one delayed flight, one cancelled flight, one missed flight, one lost piece of luggage, one hotel room, and one trip to the first-class passenger lounge later, she just made it home!! Yay!! Here is a pic of her with my oldest and youngest nephews, as well as Sam. (Don't worry, the oldest just got a hair cut...it doesn't look like that anymore!) Sam was not in a cooperative mood for mommy the photographer.
Memorial Day is next weekend. Just wanted to remind ya'll.
I have a vet appointment for Fonz tomorrow to make sure he doesn't have cancer. I really don't think he has cancer, but he has been limping a tad on his back right hip, and I found a couple of new lumps, and his dad died of cancer when he was 10. Fonz is 10 1/2. We're doing x-rays just to be sure, and because I feel it has been all too long since I have handed a couple hundred dollars to my vet.
I have heard no news on my buddy The Piano Man. I am starting to wonder if I started a rumor, or was spreading news that wasn't supposed to be shared. Oops.
I joined Networked Blogs on Facebook! I've been wanting to do this for a while but didn't have the patience to figure it out. Turns out it's super easy. But due to dial-up speed "high-speed" internet access at home, I almost lost my mind and threw the computer out the window last night. (The only reason I didn't is because there are too many wires attached and there is a big-ass printer in front of the window.) So please! Feel free to click the little button over to the right and follow me!! I am not exactly sure how this works, so if there are too many updates for you, then you can always un-follow. I think all it does is post an update on your wall whenever I post a new blog. And if you go to MY wall, then you can see the posts of people that I follow. I think that's how it works. But again, let me remind you of the dial-up fiasco that almost happened last night...so I could be wrong. Also let me remind you that the number of followers I have is directly tied to my self-esteem...soo.....
Even though it's only Thursday, I am super duper looking forward to the beautiful weekend ahead of us. The sun is shining, it's almost lunchtime...so get off of your computer (after you follow me) and go outside and play!!
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Wordless Wednesday
Last weekend, Sam's first time playing baseball. She was an excellant first baseman, Fonz had shortstop and most of the outfield covered. She's a natural.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Sad, Devasting News...At Least for Me
I think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Which I think I do every. single. morning. (Maybe I should start sleeping on the other side of the bed.) My mom isn’t a morning person, so I never really thought much of the fact that I don’t think I ever once have jumped out of bed, excited for my day. Even on my wedding day, I wanted to push snooze. Just a few more minutes! I feel like I’ve been sleep-deprived my whole life, although if I started eating healthy and exercising, that might help things. Or not.
This morning started off with a Charley Horse. OH THE PAIN! I rolled around in bed for a minute and then got up. I think that was God’s way of telling me that I went to bed in a bad mood last night, and to straighten up today. But does He understand why I was in a bad mood??? Let me attempt to explain.
I’ve never been comfortable in social situations. I never knew what to talk to kids my own age about, and whatever conversation I tried to make wound up being boring and awkward. (Strangely enough, I never really had that problem with adults.) Even when I was a kid, I never knew what to do with kids littler than me. Still really don’t. Anyway, as a teenager I discovered the joys of alcohol. Alcohol was great because it lowered your inhibitions, making you not care as much what other people thought about what you were saying, and honestly, they didn’t really care what you were saying either. It was my saving grace in high school & college.
I was telling my doctor once how I was not the type of person who could hang out with a bunch of people who were drinking and not drink. I would rather stay home alone than be the designated driver. She told me that was a “red flag.” Thanks Dr. B. On top of everyone else, I might have alcoholic tendencies. (although I've always comforted myself because I can't drink through a hangover, so I could never be a "real" alcoholic) I just can’t handle drunk people unless I am drunk, because in reality, I can’t handle people unless I am drunk. Red flag or not, my pregnancy is not helping my social phobias. Because I can’t medicate myself with alcohol, and I definitely can’t medicate myself with a Xanex.
This all came to a head last night, when I remembered something my parents and sister had told me over the weekend. My memory of college, my happiest times, were spent at the piano bar at the Neon Cactus with Bruce Barker. Some people were really into their Greek parties, others had killer house parties, I had my bar. I hung out with the same groups of people, who I only knew their first names, if at all. My friends were also there, as well as Workaholic. There were many nights when he had to drag me home. I would walk in, and the waitress who loved us would immediately come over and make sure of our drink order. And they kept coming all. night. long. Or I could walk up to a bar where people were four deep and get instant service. It was great times. When I moved to where I live now, I couldn’t understand how all the bars were the same boring thing…I had only ever been to college bars. You just sit and drink?? No entertainment?? I don’t get it. I would MUCH rather go see Bruce than go out to any bar in Chicago or any bar here at home. It’s a comfort thing. (like my food yesterday)
Over the weekend, I found out that my piano man Bruce is retiring. I remember him telling Workaholic and I that he had signed an 11 year contract, about that long ago. So I am guessing there is no contract extension, he is going to retire and raise his kids. I think he is in his mid-40s. (must be nice!) All I heard is that “this is his last year.”
What does that MEAN??? Is he going until December? Is he going until the end of the 2011 school year?? Will I EVER get to drink with him AGAIN?? Will I EVER have fun again??
A few weeks after I gave birth to Sam, I called up my best friend and just cried and cried and cried. I told her it felt like I would NEVER AGAIN have fun. Life was miserable, I didn’t sleep, and I would never again be able to enjoy myself. And life is a different kind of fun now. I laugh at my kid, but I don’t go to concerts, or bars, or any of the other stuff we used to do. (I’m just too tired!) That stuff takes planning, and going to see Bruce generally doesn’t. Well, it didn’t used to anyway. He is there Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, every weekend, except on holidays. And now he won’t be there anymore. And my main source of fun is gone. Forever.
I am hoping that I will be able to arrange a couple of trips down to see Bruce before he is finished. And maybe, now that he is released from weekly obligation, he’ll do random shows at bars…I know he used to go out to Vegas once a month or so. If not, I’ll always have my memories. I just feel sorry for the poor kids who will go to Purdue in the future (like my nephew!) and never get to know Piano Man Bruce.
I have to know though...am I the only one who feels this way? Am I the only one who loves their kid with all their heart but just wishes that a small part of me still could do all of those carefree (and stupid) things I used to do? How do I get past this???
This morning started off with a Charley Horse. OH THE PAIN! I rolled around in bed for a minute and then got up. I think that was God’s way of telling me that I went to bed in a bad mood last night, and to straighten up today. But does He understand why I was in a bad mood??? Let me attempt to explain.
I’ve never been comfortable in social situations. I never knew what to talk to kids my own age about, and whatever conversation I tried to make wound up being boring and awkward. (Strangely enough, I never really had that problem with adults.) Even when I was a kid, I never knew what to do with kids littler than me. Still really don’t. Anyway, as a teenager I discovered the joys of alcohol. Alcohol was great because it lowered your inhibitions, making you not care as much what other people thought about what you were saying, and honestly, they didn’t really care what you were saying either. It was my saving grace in high school & college.
I was telling my doctor once how I was not the type of person who could hang out with a bunch of people who were drinking and not drink. I would rather stay home alone than be the designated driver. She told me that was a “red flag.” Thanks Dr. B. On top of everyone else, I might have alcoholic tendencies. (although I've always comforted myself because I can't drink through a hangover, so I could never be a "real" alcoholic) I just can’t handle drunk people unless I am drunk, because in reality, I can’t handle people unless I am drunk. Red flag or not, my pregnancy is not helping my social phobias. Because I can’t medicate myself with alcohol, and I definitely can’t medicate myself with a Xanex.
This all came to a head last night, when I remembered something my parents and sister had told me over the weekend. My memory of college, my happiest times, were spent at the piano bar at the Neon Cactus with Bruce Barker. Some people were really into their Greek parties, others had killer house parties, I had my bar. I hung out with the same groups of people, who I only knew their first names, if at all. My friends were also there, as well as Workaholic. There were many nights when he had to drag me home. I would walk in, and the waitress who loved us would immediately come over and make sure of our drink order. And they kept coming all. night. long. Or I could walk up to a bar where people were four deep and get instant service. It was great times. When I moved to where I live now, I couldn’t understand how all the bars were the same boring thing…I had only ever been to college bars. You just sit and drink?? No entertainment?? I don’t get it. I would MUCH rather go see Bruce than go out to any bar in Chicago or any bar here at home. It’s a comfort thing. (like my food yesterday)
Over the weekend, I found out that my piano man Bruce is retiring. I remember him telling Workaholic and I that he had signed an 11 year contract, about that long ago. So I am guessing there is no contract extension, he is going to retire and raise his kids. I think he is in his mid-40s. (must be nice!) All I heard is that “this is his last year.”
What does that MEAN??? Is he going until December? Is he going until the end of the 2011 school year?? Will I EVER get to drink with him AGAIN?? Will I EVER have fun again??
A few weeks after I gave birth to Sam, I called up my best friend and just cried and cried and cried. I told her it felt like I would NEVER AGAIN have fun. Life was miserable, I didn’t sleep, and I would never again be able to enjoy myself. And life is a different kind of fun now. I laugh at my kid, but I don’t go to concerts, or bars, or any of the other stuff we used to do. (I’m just too tired!) That stuff takes planning, and going to see Bruce generally doesn’t. Well, it didn’t used to anyway. He is there Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, every weekend, except on holidays. And now he won’t be there anymore. And my main source of fun is gone. Forever.
I am hoping that I will be able to arrange a couple of trips down to see Bruce before he is finished. And maybe, now that he is released from weekly obligation, he’ll do random shows at bars…I know he used to go out to Vegas once a month or so. If not, I’ll always have my memories. I just feel sorry for the poor kids who will go to Purdue in the future (like my nephew!) and never get to know Piano Man Bruce.
I have to know though...am I the only one who feels this way? Am I the only one who loves their kid with all their heart but just wishes that a small part of me still could do all of those carefree (and stupid) things I used to do? How do I get past this???
Monday, May 17, 2010
Why, Yes, I Am Pregnant. Why Do You Ask?
Over the weekend, I got to travel back to my hometown to see my dad. (a whole, hour away) My mom used to stress out when I was coming into town because she wanted to make sure she had food in the house. When I told her I was coming this time, I made sure to tell her not to worry about food. Because there are a few restaurants that I have to hit up and there is just no need to make dinner when you can eat out!
The first is usually Arni’s. Ahhh….Arni’s. It was named after a guy named Arni. Kind of local legend, real nice guy who was really active in supporting the community. I’m pretty sure one of my childhood softball teams was sponsored by Arni’s. They hang the team pictures up on the wall, so everyone gets to see you. Arni’s is a pizza place, although it does have other things on the menu, I challenge you to find anything “healthy”. Poor Arni died when he was 69, and while I am not sure of the cause, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out it was a heart attack. Besides the pizza and the Arni’s Junior salad, (yes, there is a Senior, but no one ever gets it) the best part about Arni’s is the décor. I think they redecorated in the 60s and decided they spent too much money then and vowed would never do it again. It’s a hideous brown and orange, and everything in the restaurant just screams “vintage”. It totally doesn’t matter, their sausage pizza and delicious salad make up for it.
Then there is MCL Cafeteria. Ahhh…MCL. This is where I worked all through high school, college, and in the time frame after I graduated from college and quit the job that I hated without having a new job and lived with my parents. This place fed me and sustained me, for free, also while giving me a paycheck. The food is full of MSG and I think I had fried chicken almost every day for 7 years straight. It smells like grease and old people, because like, 90% of their clientele is over the age of 70. But I love their fried chicken and chicken & noodles and stuffed chicken breast, and the desserts! Oh my, the desserts!! Their chocolate cake and Bavarian chocolate pie and strawberry shortcake! They make their own whipped cream! I could eat a dish of just the whipped cream. And I may or may not have actually done that. And the rolls are to die for. OK, maybe not, but they are really yummy, but only when you get them hot and they aren’t overdone. They are best with butter and dipped in the chicken & noodles sauce. They usually only serve the chicken & noodles on Sundays, and once, on a Saturday morning, my friend Jason, who was a cook, made a serving of them just for me. Because I was hung over, and that is the only thing that cures my hangovers. Yes, he was awesome.
While I am drooling over food, another of my favorite places is Redamaks. Yes, that’s right, Bite Into A Legend Redamaks. This place is so awesome, they are only open 8 months a year! They only take cash, don’t sell coffee (because they don’t want you lingering), and serve the best cheeseburgers ever. In less time than you will sit in a McDonald's drive-thru. Trust me, I’ve tested it. I also highly recommend a basket o’ fries with a side of cheese sauce. Sam first went to Redamaks when she was a couple of months old, and fortunately seems to love it as much as we do. She is always well-behaved there, and even if she wasn’t, the dinner only takes about 3 minutes to get to you, so you can scarf your food down before an all-out tantrum erupts. My friend went there on Sunday and it was full of kids post-prom. Because yes, it is good hang-over food. (I mean, post-prom food…b/c high school kids don’t drink at or after prom. BTW, is prom not the most highly overrated night of your entire high school career?? That’s a subject for whole ‘nother post)
The first is usually Arni’s. Ahhh….Arni’s. It was named after a guy named Arni. Kind of local legend, real nice guy who was really active in supporting the community. I’m pretty sure one of my childhood softball teams was sponsored by Arni’s. They hang the team pictures up on the wall, so everyone gets to see you. Arni’s is a pizza place, although it does have other things on the menu, I challenge you to find anything “healthy”. Poor Arni died when he was 69, and while I am not sure of the cause, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out it was a heart attack. Besides the pizza and the Arni’s Junior salad, (yes, there is a Senior, but no one ever gets it) the best part about Arni’s is the décor. I think they redecorated in the 60s and decided they spent too much money then and vowed would never do it again. It’s a hideous brown and orange, and everything in the restaurant just screams “vintage”. It totally doesn’t matter, their sausage pizza and delicious salad make up for it.
Then there is MCL Cafeteria. Ahhh…MCL. This is where I worked all through high school, college, and in the time frame after I graduated from college and quit the job that I hated without having a new job and lived with my parents. This place fed me and sustained me, for free, also while giving me a paycheck. The food is full of MSG and I think I had fried chicken almost every day for 7 years straight. It smells like grease and old people, because like, 90% of their clientele is over the age of 70. But I love their fried chicken and chicken & noodles and stuffed chicken breast, and the desserts! Oh my, the desserts!! Their chocolate cake and Bavarian chocolate pie and strawberry shortcake! They make their own whipped cream! I could eat a dish of just the whipped cream. And I may or may not have actually done that. And the rolls are to die for. OK, maybe not, but they are really yummy, but only when you get them hot and they aren’t overdone. They are best with butter and dipped in the chicken & noodles sauce. They usually only serve the chicken & noodles on Sundays, and once, on a Saturday morning, my friend Jason, who was a cook, made a serving of them just for me. Because I was hung over, and that is the only thing that cures my hangovers. Yes, he was awesome.
While I am drooling over food, another of my favorite places is Redamaks. Yes, that’s right, Bite Into A Legend Redamaks. This place is so awesome, they are only open 8 months a year! They only take cash, don’t sell coffee (because they don’t want you lingering), and serve the best cheeseburgers ever. In less time than you will sit in a McDonald's drive-thru. Trust me, I’ve tested it. I also highly recommend a basket o’ fries with a side of cheese sauce. Sam first went to Redamaks when she was a couple of months old, and fortunately seems to love it as much as we do. She is always well-behaved there, and even if she wasn’t, the dinner only takes about 3 minutes to get to you, so you can scarf your food down before an all-out tantrum erupts. My friend went there on Sunday and it was full of kids post-prom. Because yes, it is good hang-over food. (I mean, post-prom food…b/c high school kids don’t drink at or after prom. BTW, is prom not the most highly overrated night of your entire high school career?? That’s a subject for whole ‘nother post)
I am not going to pretend that everyone should love Arni’s and MCL and Redamaks. They are just my comfort food. Food that I would miss dearly if I ever had to move far, far way. To another galaxy. But if you are every swinging through Indiana and Michigan, you should give them a try. I would probably be almost dead, and surely much skinnier, if it wasn’t for my faves.
Friday, May 14, 2010
A Red-Headed Tale
My daughter is 16 months old. And she has red hair. And I was afraid of having a red-headed girl because of the "stereotype" they come with. You know what I am talking about...spunky would be a nice way of saying it, a handful would be a little more accurate, and firey or hot-tempered is the worst generalization. Of which I have made them all.
Last night, Workaholic had finished cleaning up our office and reorganzing the drawers in one of our desks. Before Sam saw him do this, it was like she didn't realize those handles meant a drawer came behind it. And drawers are FUN! There is STUFF in drawers. That you can pull out and throw all over the place!!
Workaholic was watching her, and she opened the drawer and stood up on her little tippy-toes to look inside. As she was reaching up to grab something, he told her, "Sam, no." And she looked at him, and looked back in the drawer and reached again. Again, he firmly told her, "Sam, NO." She looked back at him, squinted her eyes, and reached into the drawer and grabbed a package of erasers. And threw them. Across the room. And was in the process of looking back at him like, "HA! See what I did!" when he clapped his hands together, very loudly. It made me jump from the other room.
And of course, her poor little feelings are hurt, or he scared her, and she came running to me, crying, arms all up in the air for me to hold her and save her. Of which I did, by taking her back and making her put away the erasers and close the drawer. She still wouldn't go to daddy, though.
And she is only 16 months old. She won't be 2 for another 8 months. She won't be 16 for another 14 + years. Of course, I simply can't imagine where her attitude comes from!
Last night, Workaholic had finished cleaning up our office and reorganzing the drawers in one of our desks. Before Sam saw him do this, it was like she didn't realize those handles meant a drawer came behind it. And drawers are FUN! There is STUFF in drawers. That you can pull out and throw all over the place!!
Workaholic was watching her, and she opened the drawer and stood up on her little tippy-toes to look inside. As she was reaching up to grab something, he told her, "Sam, no." And she looked at him, and looked back in the drawer and reached again. Again, he firmly told her, "Sam, NO." She looked back at him, squinted her eyes, and reached into the drawer and grabbed a package of erasers. And threw them. Across the room. And was in the process of looking back at him like, "HA! See what I did!" when he clapped his hands together, very loudly. It made me jump from the other room.
And of course, her poor little feelings are hurt, or he scared her, and she came running to me, crying, arms all up in the air for me to hold her and save her. Of which I did, by taking her back and making her put away the erasers and close the drawer. She still wouldn't go to daddy, though.
And she is only 16 months old. She won't be 2 for another 8 months. She won't be 16 for another 14 + years. Of course, I simply can't imagine where her attitude comes from!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)