Sporting Flip Flop Tan Lines

happiness

Hi there! Sorry I’ve been gone for a while… we’ve had a lot going on around these parts.

We had to celebrate Bridget’s 12th birthday a bit early because she was going to be out of town during her actual birthday. She was insistent that I be the one to make her cake so I opted to make a bundle of strawberry nutella deliciousness that I found on Pioneer Woman. (I probably shouldn’t even give you the link to the recipe because it so sinful… you’ll have to forgive me.)

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All of her birthday preparations were last minute so I cheated in order to beat the heat of the day. I bought boxed chocolate cake mix and stirred in mini chocolate chips into the batter to make it decadent enough for Miss Bridget’s Birthday standards. After the birthday celebrations were over we spent the remainder of the week making preparations for her trip. It was her first time flying alone and we were both nervous about it.

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I’m fairly certain Penelope is convinced that Bridget is still sitting on the plane as we speak because every time she walks into her room to see it empty she says, “Oh Sissy on plane to Gabba Gabba house.” We have since discovered that Gabba Gabba stands for Grandma Grandpa. Instead, Bridget is off  having the time of her life at her grandparent’s lake house along with her aunts, uncles and cousins.

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I’m trying my best to stifle my jealousy right now. What I wouldn’t give to jump off of the dock and into a nice cool lake at the moment. I was tempted to push her out of the way and take her spot on the flight but instead, I kissed her goodbye and watched her fly away while the sun rose.

Since it was such an early flight we had simply jumped out of bed brushed our teeth and rushed out the door. Penelope was not happy about the early morning wake up time or all of the sitting that was required, so after our excursion to the airport I took her to the park to play.

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#Uranus… heh

That’s when I discovered why she was so unhappy about sitting in her car seat. I found an infection that needed immediate medical attention.

The reason I didn’t write about this sooner was because 1) it was located on her butt and I didn’t want to have to write about any more ass issues. It’s just getting awkward at this point. 2) I write a freakin weight loss blog not a medical drama series, but you would never be able to tell that from the posts made during the past month due to the freakish nature our summer has taken. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with us?!

After spending the remainder of the morning at the doctor’s office it turns out that she has MRSA, a form of staph infection.  It was an emotionally exhausting morning due to the fact that I had to hold her down while they drained the infected area. The remainder of my weekend consisted of more draining (eew!), lots of epsome salt sits baths, strong antibiotics and a few bottles glasses of wine on my part. The whole thing was really gross and stressful. Gross because it required a lot of draining (again… eew!) Stressful because Penelope was in a lot of pain and I had made the mistake of Googling MRSA and what it can do to people.

This whole thing has kind of put me in a funk because I so desperately want to return to my lighthearted ways. All of these medical emergencies are seriously cramping my style this summer!

I have simply taken solace in the fact that my garden is thriving more than ever. I feel like I should change my name to Ethel and wear pants up to my navel because the only thing I’ve enjoyed lately is pruning my plants and watching them grow.

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I had no idea baby cantaloupe were fuzzy!

I haven’t even begun to think about weight loss since the surgery. A part of me doesn’t even want to know what the scale has to say because I’ve drowned all of my sorrows in junk food. This of course has just left me feeling crappier than ever. Another part of me is also emotional about not knowing I was pregnant during my whole six week weight loss challenge. Any time I think about losing weight I think about it. Although, it does explain why I didn’t lose any weight during that time :)

I’ve gotten to a point where I just need to decide to get over all of my summer surprises (even if they do keep coming). I feel like I’ve been balancing on a tight rope. I can either choose to be negative about everything that has gone down or choose to be positive about it. If given the choice I’ll always choose the latter. Life is all about perspective and that perspective is based purely on how you choose to look at things. After all, things can’t be that bad if you’re sporting a flip flop tan line.

For the moment my plan of action is to go on early morning runs so that I can feel the cool breeze on my face as the day begins. I’m going to do more yoga because I could always use a little “Ohmmm” in my life. And I’m going to eat the yummy things that are thriving in my back yard because it makes me feel good knowing that without my hard work they wouldn’t exist.

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Living it up Dog Days Style

So much of my blog is centered around taking steps to make a better tomorrow. In an attempt to do that I can sometimes forget to live in the moment. That’s why, every now and then, it’s good to take a step back and live life a day at a time. That way you can truly appreciate all that you have instead of focusing on what you don’t have. That’s exactly where I’ve been and what I have been doing lately…

Last weekend we had the pleasure of having my brother-in-law Bryce and my niece Neve come for a visit. Last year Bryce brought Ruby with him  (aka Roosky Littlemoney) but this year it was Ruby’s little sister’s turn for a trip out to Colorado!

Since they are only a few months apart in age, Penelope was especially happy to have her cousin come for a visit!

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As soon as we picked them up from the airport the first thing we did was head to downtown Denver for a cuppa of joe from The Market.. along with some goodies for the girls.

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We spent the rest of the weekend playing outside and eating popsicles. It was a blast!

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There were a few particularly hot days that were spent at the museum and a nearby park…

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This required refreshments in the form of ice cream and iced coffee, of course. We found an awesome coffee shop in downtown Littleton. Bryce loved it so much we frequented it three times in a 24 hour time span. It was bordering on obsessive, but we just couldn’t help ourselves!

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During the afternoons while the girls napped Bryce, Bridget and I would watch season 4 of Downton Abbey. I was too busy finishing up my grad degree during the winter to stay on track and I had been dying to watch it. Brent tried to crash our Downton Abbey party but got banned when he made fun of us for laughing too hard at semi funny one liners. When he’s particularly bratty we call him “Thomas”, which ironically is his middle name, so he doesn’t know that we’re actually insulting him. Then we laugh our snobby inside joke laugh, which I think would technically make us “O’Brians” but he doesn’t know who O’Brian is so it’s okay.

  Once the girls woke up they required mani/pedi’s. They had very specific nail color choices… with sparkles of course.

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Look at those hand models!

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There was also a lot of running round naked (not pictured) and jumping on the trampoline. The days were filled with lots of squeals and laughter followed shortly by lots of “mine!” and tears. It was everything we hoped it would be.

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The weekend flew by and we were all sad to see them go but Penelope was especially sad. For the first few days after they had left she would wake up every morning looking for her Nevey. (She still talks to her imaginary friend Neve in the backseat of the car.) Ruby, however, was super excited to have her little sister back when the trip was over. We’ll see them again shortly when we meet up for a family reunion at the end of summer. I can’t wait to see all of them!

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After Bryce and Neve left I decided it was time to get back into the swing of summer. I had been thrown off since the surgery and was ready to get back to my dog days groove. So for the past week I have spent a lot of time outside cleaning up my garden and catching up on maintenance.

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 I was sad to see that one of my pumpkin plants had died while I was recuperating from surgery. It’s such a bummer because it had the biggest pumpkin on it :(

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But the rest of my stuff is coming in quite nicely if I do say so myself! I think I can officially call myself a gardener.

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Penelope’s favorite plant is the “pickle plant” aka fresh dill. She’d sit there and sniff that sucker all day if I let her which makes sense because she is as equally obsessed with actual pickles.

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Bridget loves the raspberry bush by our front door and is so happy to see that the fruit is ripening before her two week trip to St. Louis. (She was afraid that she would miss them.) It’s seriously like having a candy jar by your doorstep. You wouldn’t believe how sweet the raspberries are!

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I was super excited about my first ripe tomato. I think it was the color that made me so giddy. Isn’t it pretty?!

Other than the lovely things that have been growing there have been some other magical things going on in the good old back yard as well. One morning I woke up to find two unexpected guests. We’ll call them dasher and Dancer. I’m pretty sure they were just as interested in my garden as I am…

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And on the super lucky mornings we see hot air balloons!

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The warmer the weather gets the lower they fly, which is awesome because it always looks like they might land right in our yard.

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In my attempt to get back into my summer groove I’ve gone back to blowing drying my hair via bike rides and spending my afternoons at the pool with my sweet girls. I haven’t been able to establish a workout routine yet but it’s the first thing on my to do list, that and eating healthier.

This summer definitely took an unexpected turn. I could easily spend my summer wallowing over what I’ve lost but that would be a disservice to myself and my family. I have so much to be thankful for. I felt like I just needed to take a little time to gain some perspective in order to truly appreciate it all… but now I’m back ;)

Butthole Problems

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Well, hello there… I’m back.

Just thought you should know.

Yeah… so, I’m feeling a bit awkward talking to you today. I wrote my last post while I was on pain medication after having my ectopic surgery and I just so happened to include details about the process that I kind of wish I hadn’t.  If I had been completely coherent I might have omitted the whole part about my anus hurting. Yep. Yep, that would have been a good part to leave out. Some details are better left out.

Then again… I might have just saved some woman’s life out there by sharing my tale of how I went to the doctor for butthole problems and stomach cramps.  Only to find out I didn’t have butthole problems at all, just a scary case of “your fallopian tube is on the verge of exploding”. So, I guess I can bare the humiliation if I’ve saved a life.

You’re welcome.

(Fun fact: I’m not sure I’ve actually used the word butthole since I was a kid while fighting over a turn with a Nintendo controller. I’m pretty sure it was my insult of choice back in the day which is a really gross way of insulting someone if you think about it.)

Needless to say, this whole ectopic pregnancy thing completely threw me off guard. For the first week after the surgery I was a zombie, a hormonal zombie who had just lost a baby she didn’t know she wanted until it was taken away from her. I would be fine one minute and a complete wreck the next. I slept a lot… and I cried a lot. Just when I would think I was starting to feel better and get my energy back I would be hit with another wave of exhaustion. I was tired of being tired and tired of being sad. I’m not one for mourning. I tend to want to just get over things without giving myself the time to fully process them. In this case there was nothing I could have done. What good did it do me to cry about it?

It doesn’t help that my body is in the midst of an identity crisis. My aches and pains from the surgery are gone but I still have pregnancy symptoms (boobs hurting, smells, fatigue, mood swings).  In fact, I feel like they have intensified lately which is really freaking me out. Maybe it’s like having a phantom pain when you amputate something. My brain just can’t wrap itself around the loss of something that was a part of me. I just went out to dinner with my family tonight and I looked down to discover that everything that I had aimed at my mouth was sitting on my newly engorged chest.  I’m pretty sure my boobs are convinced that they are still pregnant. I wish it would just go away because it’s really messing with my head.

Other than that I’m feeling much better. I thought you should know since I wrote that weird drug induced post about my anus the surgery and all. Now, just do me a favor and cross your fingers that I don’t do something drastic like drown in a bag of Cheetos while I sort out my feelings on phantom pregnancy symptoms. M’kay? That would be great and if you do that I’ll promise to write blog posts with more appropriate titles.

 

Out of the Blue

*Warning: This blog is based purely from an honest point of view and in my attempt to be honest I tend to over share. That is precisely what is about to happen right this minute. You have been warned.

Yesterday was a weird day, it completely threw me for a loop.

I woke up in the middle of the night Thursday morning with the worst stomach cramps that I had ever had. I tried to sneak off into the bathroom while Brent slept to find some relief in the bathroom but there was no relief to be had so I crawled back in bed and tried to sleep it off hoping the cramps would be gone by the time I woke up.

When I woke up they weren’t any better and to top things off the pain was radiating through my rectum. As a woman I’m quite familiar with stomach cramps rectum cramps however are a whole different story. I didn’t want to tell Brent what was going on because it was embarrassing. “Honey, please don’t make me laugh because when you do my butthole hurts.” I couldn’t cough, laugh or sit without the pain radiating through my body.

I had no idea what was wrong with me. Brent told me to go to the Dr but I didn’t want to because it was humiliating. Plus, I was terrified of having to undergo a rectal exam. Finally, I decided to make a call so that I could see what was going on and possibly get some relief. While I waited for my appointment I googled symptoms to see what could possibly be wrong. Maybe I was just severely constipated, or maybe I had some form of IBS…

When I went to the Dr I was given a thorough exam. (My greatest nightmare realized.) My stomach was super tender to the touch. If it had been localized she would have assumed that I had appendicitis but it wasn’t it was all over the lower region of my stomach. She then assumed it had to have something to do with my uterus. She check the location where my IUD (birth control) was implanted to see if it had gotten infected or misplaced. But it was in perfect shape and there wasn’t anything wrong from what she could tell, other than the severe tenderness I had. After the exam I put my clothes back on, got some blood work done, peed in a cup and waited in the room for my doctor to come back in.

When she walked in the first thing she said was, “The pregnancy test was positive.”

“Wait.. what?”

I didn’t even know she was checking to see if I was pregnant.

“I have an IUD. That’s supposed to be 99.9 percent effective.”

“I know it’s extremely rare.”

She then explained to me that it was possible that the tenderness could be caused from the IUD implanted while my baby was growing. Or I could be suffering from a tubal pregnancy which would mean I would have to have surgery immediately in order to keep from bleeding to death internally. I would have to wait for a sonogram to be sure what was going on.

She made arrangements for me to go to my OBGYN that same afternoon. I had to wait three hours to find out. I was either going into surgery that night and loosing a baby I didn’t even know that I had or I was going to add another member to my family. My mind was reeling. I didn’t know what to think. I came home and told Brent the news and he grinned, secretly proud of his virility. He would be happy to welcome another child maybe this one would even be a little boy. Something he has tried to talk me into trying for in the past.

My Dr appointment finally arrived and I was called back for the sonogram. I laid back in that dark room looking up at the screen in front of me to find the answer I had been waiting for.  There it was, a little splotch of a person inside me, lodged in the tiny confines of the tubes leading to my ovary. It was indeed a tubal pregnancy. My uterus was already full of blood. I would be in surgery shortly.

Brent was at home with the girls trying to make arrangements and would meet me at the hospital. My doctor’s office is located at the hospital where the surgery would take place. I was given an admittance packet and I walked to the emergency room on foot. Feeling the pain radiate with every step I took. It was the blood sloshing around in my uterus.

Before I knew it, I was laying on a bed in a hospital gown, my head was throbbing my heart was throbbing and I was connected to an IV that pumped pain medicine through my veins making me feel light headed. Brent was still trying to find someone to take care of the girls for us so I sat there alone. Before I knew it they were starting to wheel me from one room to another. I was handed more paper work to sign and given more information to digest. Then I was asked what I wanted to do with the fetus’ body. I was given several options and was asked if I had a name for it. I didn’t even know that a fetus had even existed when I had woken up that morning much less given time to think of names. The nurse took it upon herself to just write Angel of Chapman in the blank space where the name was supposed to go.

Brent finally arrived, I was given some medicine and the next thing I knew I was waking up in a strange room with a ragged wet cough that pulled at the stitches in my stomach.

I came home that very night. I’ve slept most of the day. My head is still throbbing probably from the shock of it all. I’ve just taken my second dose of medicine and will probably be asleep again shortly. I’m sitting in my pajamas with the hospital bracelets still attached to my arm.

I just wanted to write this blog post for two reasons. To explain my absence from the blog for the next few days and to try to sort out how I feel about all of this. I haven’t had time to process everything yet I haven’t had time to think about it or time to feel anything.

Hidden Treasures

Well, well, well… Look who decided to show up without posting a Friday weigh-in.

Me! It’s me, okay?!

Friday was supposed to be the last day of my six week challenge. The challenge that I failed at miserably. We have already hashed over how that didn’t quite go as planned in the last post. By mid-week on I was back on track and feeling just as great as ever.  Since I had spent the first half of the week in a complete shame spiral funk. I thought it best not to weigh myself by the time Friday had rolled around. I didn’t want to ruin the momentum I had finally gained mid-week.

So instead of sitting at home writing a weigh-in blog post I went for a run instead…

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Brent has been working a lot lately but he was finally home on this particular day so I took the opportunity to have a little time to myself. I had already made my normal three mile loop but decided to go the extra mile (literally) to pick Bridget up from swim practice on foot.

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I am so glad I did because on the way home we found the most amazing thing! A Little Free Library tucked into the back of someone’s fence.

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I had no idea such a thing existed, it made me so happy! Apparently this is a place where you can exchange books with complete strangers. It’s amazing the hidden treasures you come across as a pedestrian. I’ve driven past this place a million times and had no idea it was here. As Bridget and I walked away we both talked about how fun it would be to leave secret messages in the books that we exchange.

After our little discovery we rushed home where Brent and Penelope were waiting for us to hurry up and get cleaned up so that we could go see How to Train Your Dragon 2. It was Penelope’s very first time going to the movie theater.

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She sat still for about thirty minutes and then all hell broke loose.

By the time Saturday rolled around Brent was back at work and I decided to try out this whole potty training business. Penelope has been wanting to use the potty for quite some time now so I thought I would give it a shot. I had been prepared for a while. I bought a little potty chair, a million pairs of panties, little prizes to reward her and lots of apple juice to entice her to pee.

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And boy did she pee… all over the place. She was so excited to wear her panties but I don’t think she actually knew what they meant. It was a disaster. I gave her my phone to watch “tarcoons” on and she would sit through a 30 min show on the toilet and then get up and pee on the floor. It was so bad I had a glass of wine during nap time. I had to give myself a major pep talk to keep going for the rest of the day.

When she woke up from nap it didn’t get any better. She never managed to pee on the potty. She had no idea what we were doing. She even held it for an hour and a half while she sat on her potty to watch a movie and have some snacks. Then let it rip as soon as she stood up. It was awful, I’m still recuperating from the experience as I type. After having been held prisoner in my house for an entire day cleaning up puddles I called it quits and decided that my sanity was much more important to me. We’re going to keep trying but with a more gradual approach.

Other than that, things are going great. I’ve carved out time almost every morning to work out. I have discovered that if I don’t get out of my house and get moving by a certain time I start to get super restless. I feel much better on the days that I work out first thing in the morning so I’ve stuck with it. I’ve also mastered the mental aspect of choosing what to eat once again. I’ve gotten back to choosing what to eat based off of what my brain tells me to do versus what my feelings tell me to do.

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It’s not easy, it requires a daily pep talk but I’m doing it. And I find that I’m much happier with myself when I stick to my plan than when I don’t. There’s just nothing worse than breaking a promise to yourself.