tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51539209790354609172024-03-06T00:23:34.953-08:00battle of the bulgerthe nonsensical compositions of an army wifethe bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.comBlogger104125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-24209139761132439782016-09-05T20:09:00.000-07:002016-09-05T20:09:00.703-07:00Aldarahopefully by the time i have gotten this post up, i will have gotten up my post about skin cancer that i started 3 months ago and just haven't had the emotional fortitude to finish. (side note:<a href="http://battleofthebulger.blogspot.com/2016/07/skin-cancer.html" target="_blank"> totally did.</a> )<br />
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really it's just that i can't decide if i am putting out something folks can relate to, or something that's chalk full of whining.<br />
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i had my follow up in june and it went beautifully. i am really fortunate to have the best dermatologist i've had in my life at the major turning point for my skin. one who understands, is compassionate, and is educated beyond what her qualifications require. a doctor who believes in evidence based practice and treating each patient for who they are and where they are.<br />
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for the first time i was given a preventative care option. a choice to use an imiquimod cream first, followed by a topical chemo and rounded out with a retinoid treatment.<br />
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***disclaimer, imiquimod is sometimes also called a topical chemo, but i am not a doctor or a pharmacist and i can't really speak on the truthfulness of that statement. my doctor doesn't refer to it as a chemo, so i won't either***<br />
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this post will sum up the 6 weeks on the aldara, which is the imiquimod cream.<br />
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aldara is the brand name. the medicine is supposed to work by attaching proteins to mutated cells that tell your body to fight. it triggers an immune system response. in this setting, it is meant to get rid of actinic keratosis (pre-cancers), and sometimes the very earliest stages of basal cell carcinoma. it is milder than a topical chemotherapy, and won't leave scarring like surgery will.<br />
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i did 5 days on applying the medicine once at night to my entire face, 2 days of a break, for 6 weeks. i should mention here that i am a reactive person when it comes to medicine-- i get side effects from nearly anything, and i take half doses of everything except antibiotics. medicines seem to hit me hard and linger.<br />
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here is my best before picture, or at least the most recent one i could find:<br />
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i am make up free here and you can see the little bandaid from the original biopsy of the spot that turned out to be basal cell carcinoma.<br />
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let me give you my word of advice, now that i am done: act like you are sick. you don't necessarily have to GET sick. but treat yourself as though you are from the beginning. eat good foods. drink a lot of water. rest. don't feel like you have to take your kids swimming every day and go to friends' birthday parties if you don't want to. treat yourself well and odds are better that you won't end up with an infection and a ton of crying ;)<br />
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week one:<br />
by the end of week one all i could tell was that i was getting a few tiny red bumps on my forehead. no sensation from the cream itself. HOWEVER. i was throwing up by day 3. i threw up for 2 days and then it turned to just nausea. i didn't figure out this was from the medicine until late next week when i finally had to look up side effects. i didn't even take a picture it turns out-- there was that little change.<br />
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week 2:<br />
by the end of this week i had a handful of red spots that were at least 3mm in diameter and very, very pink and angry. my forehead and temples, and now lip, reminded me of the poor kid we all knew in high school whose face would ooze a little during science class. there was a slight tingling sensation when i put on the medicine, and at the end of this week i got a sore inside my lip. the nausea began to taper off halfway through this week and it was the cold sore that prompted me to look up side effects. these photos are end of week 2.<br />
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on my second night off of the medicine i used the perfectly posh apricots overnight face mask and even my husband noticed the next day that it looks less red and puffy, which was great becaaaaaause<br />
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week 3:<br />
i made a mistake. believing that was i had was the same as acne, i figured going to an outdoor birthday party and staying in the shade wouldn't be harmful at all. after all, kids with acne enjoyed summers too!!! i stayed in the shade all day. by about 3 hours in my forehead was burning. a cold bag of ice became my best friend. we got home around 9 (party started at 3) and i cleaned my face and put on the cream. immediate burning and every sore turned dark, bright red and began swelling. i cried a bit, took tylenol and slept terribly. the burning continued the next day and the nausea found its way back. ibuprofen, ice packs, and refrigerated things started becoming important this week. refrigerated aloe vera gel from our plant mixed with a few drops of peppermint oil. refrigerated vaseline. refrigerated coconut oil. refrigerated head bands. cold stuff. any. thing. cold. the sores started spreading out wider this week as well.<br />
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this is not comfortable. just so we are all on the same page. uncomfortable. this turned out to be the worst week. the pain inside my lip was blinding, i couldn't eat, everything was oozing, crusting or bleeding, and i was really, really tired. the two days off i used the apricots overnight mask, a mask called stay gold, moisturizers out the wazoo, and seriously cried a few times. it was this week that made me think i made the wrong choice going this route.<br />
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you can see the lip here. this was the most excruciating thing by far. thankfully it was also the fastest sore to heal</div>
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week 4: things are significantly better!!! but they don't look that way! ha<br />
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the right side of my face took it so much harder than the left!<br />
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there are still new sores coming up, but they are smaller than the first round. my lip began healing at the start of this week (saturday) and it's wednesday as i type this and there is no more pain, and i can eat everything again. huge relief. the worst part right now is that the nausea came back in full swing, and everything itches. i also (sorry for this guys) ended up skipping my period, which is a first for me. outside of having children, i've had about a dozen or so late periods in nearly 20 years, but i've never skipped one. so the 5 days of nausea was enough to make me take a pregnancy test. it was thankfully negative because this is a class x medication, and so is the efudex i will be starting in a few weeks. but it's that level of nausea, and it's all day. also people are staring at me in public. haven't figured out how to handle that yet. chicken pox seems to be a common assumption, and i think meth is the other one that people aren't saying ha!<br />
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week 5. this week is where my story hopefully splits off from everyone else's! this is the start of the week, and it turned out, the start of an infection.<br />
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thursday</div>
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wednesday<br />
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wednesday</div>
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at the start of this week (sort of also the end of week 4) i began getting much more nauseated and tired. i thought this was because i was so far into the medicine, and new spots were still coming up every day. i ended up spending an entire day sleeping. i also realized shortly after the weekend that none of the spots on my face had healed or begun healing at all. i ended up calling my doctor on wednesday and described what was happening, and went in on thursday to find out a few things: i had more spots than they had expected (same here!), there was an infection, and that apparently most people don't make it this far with this many lesions haha!!<br />
so some notes about what SHOULD happen, and i will have some pictures of that in the next block.<br />
1. at some point after week 2, at least SOME parts of SOME of your lesions should start to heal in some way. this can be forming scabs, or the white layer of skin that seems to be common, or just seeing parts drying out. so if you only have one spot and it's still growing and changing, keep an eye on it because some just get big, but if you have 10 and some are small and aren't starting to heal in week 3 or 4, that is sometimes abnormal. keep an eye out for infection<br />
2. some inflammation is normal. swelling is not. if you cannot move part of your face because of the swelling, that is not normal. my forehead was swollen to the point that i was physically unable to my eyebrows. inflammation and a little tenderness are fine. pain and swelling are not.<br />
3. scabbing, some crustiness, a little bit of oozing and maybe some slight bleeding CAN all be normal. if you are dripping blood, that usually isn't. if you have drops of ooze or pus, that isn't. if you are peeling off wet scales and clumps of gummy dead skin from all over your face, that isn't quite normal but can be if you are coated in vaseline! ultimately, from being able to compare the few blogs i've seen, what you want over the sores is a white-ish film or those nice pink scabs. you don't want yellow.<br />
4. irritation is going to happen. but if you want to claw off your skin, something might be wrong. or you have a particular sensitivity to itchiness (i think a lot of people do!). if you want to claw your face off and you have yellow crusts on your wounds and part of you is so swollen it can't move at all, that is probably a sign of a problem.<br />
<br />
my dermatologist told me to stop the aldara, start a topical antibiotic, and focus on trying to heal. within 24 hours on the antibiotic, the swelling was almost gone.<br />
<br />
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it took about 3 days for the swelling to totally recede, the redness to recede, and for the wounds to really dry out and show some fantastic healing.<br />
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here you can see the white film, especially in that eyebrow (which is probably getting a biopsy in the fall). you want to see that white as spots are healing!<br />
<br />
in the end, after i stopped the treatment, it took about 10 days for everything to heal.<br />
<br />
a month later, i have scars. not big ones, but visible ones. i am also starting efudex, so maybe that will burn off some of the skin and leave fresh skin behind. maybe that's wishful thinking.<br />
<br />
<br />the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-46540359463924389592016-07-22T10:30:00.001-07:002016-07-27T08:13:32.830-07:00Skin CancerI will almost definitely make more posts about this in the future. In March 2016 I got the call that I have a basal cell carcinoma on my cheek. I'll post that story next I suppose.<br />
<br />
I have surgery in a month to remove it and a full body skin check at the end of June. Skin checks are a yearly thing for me and have been for almost a decade! You should make skin checks a part of your life too! Maybe not every year-that's up to your skin, medical history and your physician's recommendation. But at least by the time you turn 30, go get a full scan once to get a baseline.<br />
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<br />
If we have met, ever, you have seen me laugh. I laugh a lot. I laugh loudly, I laugh whole heartedly. My life is one big joke peppered with moments where I have to grow up and put on a straight face.<br />
<br />
I adore my laugh lines and my crow's feet. My impression, at my tender age of 30 and from the many women in their 40s and 50s, is that women want to be rid of these beauties. It's an insult of some sort, apparently.<br />
<br />
I don't feel insulted. I'm joyful when I see these lines. As a whole, I love my body. A few years ago it dawned on me that this is the only body I get. This body contains everything that makes me leanne. All of my life experiences, everything i've learned and seen and done, it's contained in THIS vessel. It's not a tool to be manipulated, it is not an obstacle to my happiness. Every single thing I bring to this world, my unique place in the grand design of life, it depends on this body. These crooked toes, these long legs, this stringy hair, these beautiful eyes, this soft belly, this pancake flat ass, these adorable freckles, this smooth skin, these perfectly proportionate ears..... this is unique, and this one is mine. I am grateful for the life my body has allowed me to live.<br />
<br />
I am grateful for my laugh lines. I am thankful for the 30 years that I have obviously spent smiling, laughing, expressing myself.<br />
<br />
And I am terrified of losing them. The odds of a recurrence are around 40% if you take the most conservative calculations. When you factor in how young I am starting and how many other spots I have had removed from my body already, that 40% is a fantasy.<br />
<br />
For many women, the surgeries to remove these small spots (you can see mine in that picture above. It's the red spot on my cheek, near the end of my nose) is a lose-win-win. Lose: you have cancer. Win: it's easily removed. Win 2: they can use the surgery to pull and tuck things a wee little bit when you have extra skin. You can get little bitty face enhancements one at a time covered by insurance!<br />
<br />
I don't want my face enhanced. I am finding myself terrified of growing old and not looking older. I know it's jumping the gun. But I think about it every time I look in the mirror now. Will I get to keep this face? Or piece by piece, surgery after surgery, will it be lifted and tugged and pulled taut and leave me looking different at 60 than I would have if nature had taken its course without cancer's help?<br />
<br />
When people tell me I look amazing for my age, will it be because surgery stopped me from getting wrinkled and soft, or because I simply look good? Will people think I had work done out of vanity?<br />
<br />
Overall I don't think anyone would describe me as the kind of lady who cares a whole lot about what people think of me. But the idea that people would consider me vain just by looking at me, without knowing me, when in reality I just had the misfortune of having skin cancer at a young age... it rubs me the wrong way.<br />
<br />
Cancer rubs me the wrong way.<br />
<br />the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-78456704192009649202015-10-26T06:38:00.000-07:002015-10-26T06:38:40.850-07:00Rooster ReliefAbout 6 weeks ago i left for a trip to new orleans to help a very pregnant friend during her brother's weekend (side note, my role in this whole shindig was basically to help her not go into labor or be her second set of hands if she did, and she totally had the baby 24 hours after we finished the trip. so i am super good at my jobs).<br />
<br />
during this time, our dogs who have been playing rather nicely with the chickens in the backyard, decided play time was over and killed two of our birds.<br />
<br />
we were not upset, but the whole thing was sort of a mess and a really great learning experience. my husband is very comfortable with killing the chickens now (one was alive and on his way to death so he put the poor guy out of his misery), and that was the only part i had been concerned about having a hard time doing. we are set for meat birds!<br />
<br />
E can't tell the birds apart. we have 2 buff orpingtons, 2 rhode island reds, 2 lavender orpingtons and one silver laced wyandotte.<br />
<br />
bu some odd act of fate, BOTH of our lavender orps ended up being roosters. but one had been fairly sick as a baby and developed about 2 weeks behind the other, even though they were born around the same time.<br />
<br />
in august one rooster--Hedwig-- began trying to crow and his comb started getting obscenely large. reptar's comb stopped growing and he made no attempt to make a single sound.<br />
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it may be a bit hard to tell, but the more upright one is Hedwig and the one laying lazily around is Reptar. you can see that his comb doesn't extend as high. but you can't see that his comb has more points to it.</div>
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Hedwig=dominant roo. reptar=laying down most of the time looking depressed and mangy.<br />
<br />
ok, not mangy, that's rude. but he looked thin and somehow deflated all the time.<br />
<br />
well, reptar got taken by the dogs, as well as jane, who was VERY high in the pecking order, if not at the top just because she was so.very.fat. she was the chicken who would run through the whole flock of ladies when they were resting, just so she could take someone's spot.<br />
<br />
i got home 2 days after the massacre and it wasn't until 2 days after i got home that i realized something:<br />
<br />
i hadn't heard a single crow.<br />
<br />
normally hedwig crows in the morning, throughout the day when the girls lay or he finds something delicious to eat, and at night to round them all back into the coop.<br />
<br />
it wasn't reptar who died. it was hedwig.<br />
<br />
we lost our 2 dominant chickens.<br />
<br />
some thoughts went through my mind.<br />
<br />
1. the dogs managed to kill BOTH dominant chickens, which is impressive no matter how much you didn't want it to happen.<br />
<br />
2. i cannot believe reptar is alive<br />
<br />
3. this means that the entire pecking order will need to be re-established<br />
<br />
here's the thing: i've never heard reptar make a noise, and he has never tried to mount a chicken. never. so i had this nagging concern that we have a rooster who might not know he's a boy, or might have been sick because he's somehow both genders, or might be brain damaged, who knows.<br />
<br />
we have been counting on a rooster making it possible for us to have baby chicks, thus producing baby roosters who can be rooster dinners.<br />
<br />
at the end of the first week, i noticed that he had put on some weight and was walking upright quite a bit more.<br />
<br />
in the second week, his comb began to grow, i'm not even joking.<br />
<br />
and this morning i watched him very clumsily (and with much protest from the lady herself) mount and successfully mate with rosa parks.<br />
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he still hasn't crowed.<br />
<br />
i think our dogs left us with a rooster who can make babies but doesn't make noise.<br />
<br />
i feel like i should buy the dogs a thank you card…..the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-58159654658712526782015-10-16T13:19:00.000-07:002015-10-16T13:19:12.401-07:00The 7 Year Itchtoday is our 7 year anniversary.<br />
<br />
by all accounts, this anniversary should not be happening. for many reasons, and i will not go into all of them. mostly because airing your own dirty laundry is smelly and a ridiculous idea when you have a fancy, fully functional washing machine inside.<br />
<br />
this will not be a laundry analogy.<br />
<br />
last year, on our 6th anniversary, we had drawn up a separation agreement, were living in separate rooms, my rings were at a consignment store 70 miles away and we had been to the divorce class through the army's legal department, and were looking for a place for E to live nearby.<br />
<br />
neither of us was being self righteous, we weren't being disagreeable, we weren't fighting. since we couldn't make choices for each other, we agreed mutually to try to make each of our own choices based on what we believed was best for our children, and thankfully we were both always on the same page in that regard.<br />
<br />
from the moment we got married, we had always agreed that as long as we were both willing to work for it, the marriage would stand, even when everything tried to pull us down. overall intent would mean more than individual transgressions.<br />
<br />
E had decided he no longer wanted to work. his intentions, his long term plans, had not had me in them for some time and he had been trying to get us both to a place where that transition would be "easier", whatever exactly that means.<br />
<br />
what eventually happened, about 3 months into this mess, could be summed up as a divine intervention. the more complex list would be<br />
<br />
1. E got a medication change for his anxiety medicine and started seeing a real therapist.<br />
2. somewhere he realized that he probably wasn't going to get a life or wife much better than the one he currently had<br />
3. i realized that my marriage vows didn't include a caveat of "unless we divorce" or "i promise, but if he breaks his vows, my promises become null and void".<br />
<br />
i kept trying to live out my vows to do what was best for him, to support him, because no matter what, at the end of my life here on this planet, nobody will answer for my actions except me. i will certainly not be allowed to say "i sat by while the father of my children fell apart and did nothing to stop it, but he broke his promises first, so i am justified." he was genuinely still trying to be a great father. <br />
<br />
about 6 months in we started thinking we might talk to a counselor and see if we wanted to work through this or not.<br />
<br />
around 8 months in, we started seeing the counselor.<br />
<br />
9 months in i moved back into the master bedroom with him, and it was a hard transition. it felt like being taken from my space and moved into his, even though i had lived there before.<br />
<br />
all this time, i never got my rings back. the thought of them was very painful. they were a physical representation of what i felt was more lie than truth. they were never the rings i would have picked for myself, but they were what HE picked for me. i didn't want the future he had picked for us the last few years, and i did not want a reminder of that on my finger. i hadn't received a check from the consignment store.<br />
<br />
about 10 months in, E put his wedding ring back on without warning. i was upset. i can't explain why, it was certainly irrational. i didn't want him to take it off necessarily, but when i saw it, i felt obligated to wear my own ring, which i still couldn't stomach.<br />
<br />
i wanted a new ring. a new beginning.<br />
<br />
i talked to some girlfriends (wonderful ones, i will add) about it and came to the realization that i was being unfair. i chose to be with him. i chose to stay. that means i chose the whole 6 years, and all of this is part of our story, part of the ring. i cannot choose which parts i want to keep and which i don't. that wasn't the deal we made with each other or the Lord.<br />
<br />
i tossed around the idea that 60 years from now, i would <i>probably</i> want the ring. when all of this was a mere blip in the story of our lives, i would want to remember.<br />
<br />
it took me another 2 months or better to convince myself to make the drive up. i wrestled with the decision so much.<br />
<br />
a week before today, our 7th anniversary, while in new orleans with another dear friend and as homesick as i've ever been in my life, i knew it was time to shit or get off the pot. i resolved that i would have the ring on my finger by our anniversary.<br />
<br />
this morning i lied to him about my day's events and i drove up. i was anxious. the plan was to get them back and wear them out to dinner. surprise him.<br />
<br />
the whole drive up i thought about this blog post. about what i would say on what feels like a very pivotal anniversary. and what it came down to, on that drive, was that i had to remember intent.<br />
<br />
the intent of the ring was never bad. his intentions were never malicious. he intends now to make this marriage work. i intend to do the same.<br />
<br />
intentions matter.<br />
<br />
i walked into the store and explained why i was there. they took my name, pulled the inventory list, and went back to find the rings in stock.<br />
<br />
out came the woman who co-owns the store with her husband.<br />
<br />
"leanne?"<br />
"yeah!"<br />
"well, the items you asked about are on layaway and will be paid off by december"<br />
<br />
did you just gasp?<br />
<br />
i gasped.<br />
<br />
"both? the band and the ring?"<br />
"yes, they were purchased together. was that a good gasp?"<br />
"no…. no, i came to get them back because i'm not getting divorced. it's my anniversary today. it was supposed to be a surprise"<br />
<br />
i went through about 6 emotions in a split second, but the end reaction was laughter.<br />
<br />
OF COURSE this would happen. OF COURSE. i no longer have a wedding band or engagement ring.<br />
<br />
but what dawned on me next was sort of splendid.<br />
<br />
"paid off by december."<br />
<br />
someone was proposing at christmas. someone spent months paying for this now very important, beautiful, wonderful part of their story.<br />
<br />
in all of my shock, she said they could give me store credit now for the rings and add 10% and maybe i could look for a new one.<br />
<br />
i finally called E.<br />
<br />
his response? "yeah, you should. it can be my anniversary gift to you! if there's any leftover, can you get me a watch?"<br />
<br />
seriously.<br />
<br />
this has now turned into one of the strangest days of my life.<br />
<br />
the woman whisked me around the counters and i picked out real jewelry for the first time in my life. i want to go into detail about this whole experience, but this blog post has already gotten way too long.<br />
<br />
in the end, she found a ring that finally made me weep.<br />
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underwhelming, until you look closely. <div>
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<div>
pretty good representation of the person who wears it now.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
i drove to the shop today prepared to bring back a set that i have heavy feelings toward, because i was fully prepared to accept the intentions behind the ring over the ring itself. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
now i think that was all i was supposed to do. it was never about me wearing my engagement ring and wedding band again. it was about being willing to, even when the circumstances weren't ideal.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
it was about my intentions. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
our marriage is about willingness, even when the circumstances aren't ideal. it's about intention.</div>
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here's to 7 years down and more to come, love. </div>
the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-51329631401075120162015-09-08T16:52:00.001-07:002015-09-08T16:52:22.493-07:00The Lorax. Or in This Case, the Lexus<br />
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When house hunting last year, we narrowed down our options for locations based on the following criteria, in order of importance:<br />
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1. Price<br />
2. Crime rate<br />
3. School district<br />
4. Distance to work<br />
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The rest was more or less details. We ended up in a house well within our price range, less than a half mile from a firehouse, 2 doors over from a fire chief, across the street from 2 police officers, a half mile from our boys' elementary school, a quarter mile from the library, and 10 minutes from my husband's work.<br />
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We are living a dream.<br />
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We knew our sons would walk or ride to school. We also knew that it would be a struggle because the roads leading into the school no longer carry country life traffic, and this area seems especially irreverent when it comes to school zone traffic laws.<br />
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Our son is one of 4 children I have seen walking to school. It is not a small elementary school, friends. Probably at least 350 students or more, and the attendance area is all in very close proximity to the school. Our kindergartener's bike with training wheels is the only one I've seen in the bike rack since school began 2 weeks ago.<br />
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I have made numerous remarkss on facebook about the lack of attention paid by drivers, the number of people speeding. We had an accident happen within 100 feet of our children and myself and the driver claimed he rear ended the car in front of him because he was watching my kids to make sure they didn't run into the road.<br />
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they were not even moving and certainly it would have been more diligent to slow down and keep an eye on all of your surroundings than to keep your speed and watch children 10 feet off the side of the road, but I digress.<br />
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Many cars have made the right turn, directly in front of us, after the crossing guard had walked into the intersection and raised her sign and whistled. I have engaged in ominously assertive yelling at that intersection.<br />
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I think the question most people must be asking at this point is "why are you still walking if it's that dangerous? We wouldn't walk. Obviously, lady, there is a reason so few families are walking or biking to school"<br />
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Well, for starters I'm just stubborn.<br />
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I believe this is important. I believe what we are doing each morning is vital to his overall wellbeing, his development, and his success in school and the future.<br />
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There is now a daily recommended amount of exercise for children. You may better know it by the name <a href="http://www.heart.org/HEARTORG/Educator/FortheClassroom/NFLPlay60Challenge/NFL-PLAY-60-Challenge-Page_UCM_304278_Article.jsp" target="_blank">Play60</a>. We have had to tell parents "your kids really should be playing, actively, for 60 minutes a day".<br />
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Recess was not 60 minutes long at my school. Even recess plus PE was not daily 60 minutes worth of hard play.<br />
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You cannot just blame schools.<br />
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But, school was not so rigorous when I was a child. I wasn't put through a 7 hour kindergarten day, with once weekly PE and 20 minute recess, and I did not go home and veg in front of electronics.<br />
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<a href="http://www.cdc.gov/healthyyouth/health_and_academics/pdf/pa-pe_paper.pdf" target="_blank">There are strong correlations between physical activity and children's ability to learn.</a> Proprioceptive stimulation (anything that essentially sends them flying think cartwheels, swings, flips, balancing on a bike, etc) is an effective tool for raising endorphins and tiring the body out.<br />
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People go on runs to clear their minds. Imagine the effect it would have on a child to flip and jump and run and bike, wake their minds up and settle their bodies, and then sit down to work? Those bodies are tired enough to sit and their minds are alert.<br />
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Cross body coordination movements (crawling, climbing, throwing a ball, hopscotch, most of the blacktop games we played as children) are suspected to have dramatic, invaluable effects on literacy and language processing.<br />
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<a href="http://cncr.rutgers.edu/conflict-resolution-at-school-on-the-playground/" target="_blank">Social interaction through play is how children learn conflict resolution.</a> (note: i will admit this article is less specifically supportive of the assertion that play is vital for conflict resolution. but broad conflict resolution skills require encounters with a broad variety of conflicts and confrontations. what better place for that than among peers? how often in life do any of us go long periods without dealing with excessive noise, movement, or people? a playground seems like a great place to me to cultivate problem solving skills)<br />
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The simple act of biking to school teaches my son about directions, rules of the road, awareness of surroundings, and a sense of responsibility and pride. <br />
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My 5 year old boy is expected to be in a classroom, learning the things I learned in first grade, for 7 hours a day. Of that time I would wager at least 5 hours are devoted strictly to learning and I would also venture to say that his teacher doesn't expect all 5 hours to be silent or still.<br />
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I also am not sure if I am entirely against pushing children to these higher intellectual limits as a general society, but that is another post.<br />
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Even with those concessions, it is still a lot.<br />
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We are expecting superior mental stimulation and performance at the expense of physical stimulation and performance.<br />
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I don't believe all children should be great in all areas, but I do believe that ignoring one entire part of our being, or suppressing it in favor of another part of ourselves, is a detrimental stance. I believe public school is vital for society, and I do not for one moment believe it is the job of the school to provide for every need that my child has. We are a team. They are pouring knowledge in to him, I am helping direct the flow through the specific course of my own child's mind. Their task is large and difficult.<br />
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It is not difficult for me to help my child move. Movement is inherent, ubiquitous.<br />
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So we will walk, and we will bike and we will run. And we will teach him to jump and leap and somersault and swim. We will activate his mind and his body.<br />
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The cars are going to learn to stop for us. Children are our most valuable treasure. I will shout, I will slam car hoods, I will go to the school board, the police station, the city hall, I will go to reasonable, but loud measures to remind people how to drive around children. I will not give in to fear, laziness, poor planning, arrogance, or mindlessness. I will teach my boys to be cautious. I will walk with them every day and be their extra eyes and ears and safety. We will walk in the heat, in the rain (within reason and with extra clothes in tow!), in the cold and on the beautiful days.<br />
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Most of the days are beautiful.<br />
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The media will tell you that my child will be hit by a car or abducted. The statistics from our law enforcement would tell you that the odds of him actually getting hurt from a car are minimal, and the chances he'd be abducted are lower than the chances he will break his arm on his bike. I'm certainly not going to stop him from riding his bike on the off chance he MIGHT fall and break his arm, and I will not stop walking him to school because the screens tell me that every car is waiting to fly off the road and hit him or steal him.<br />
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We will walk, we will smile at our community, we will invite them along, and I will fight to make it safer.<br />
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But we will not stop.<br />
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"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."</div>
the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-43417398299509362382015-08-26T05:59:00.002-07:002015-08-26T05:59:21.076-07:00Hurry Up and Waitwe've all heard it. "hurry up and wait." it's ubiquitous in the military community.<br />
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our oldest son has had developmental delays off and on since he was about 18 months old. i say off and on because this is how our life works with him:<br />
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realize there is a slight (6 months to a yearish) delay.<br />
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wait a few weeks.<br />
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see doctor. confirm delay.<br />
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put in referral for evaluation or therapy.<br />
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continue to work on delay at home while insurance takes its sweet mother effing time to approve referrals.<br />
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son very abruptly catches up entirely. sometimes in the course of a day, and i am not exaggerating.<br />
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see specialist. child is not delayed.<br />
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begin cycle over again in 6 months to a year.<br />
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this cycle was on of the large pieces in the pie chart of reasons why i wanted to get rid of our tv's. (i don't think i've posted about that yet. we got rid of our tv's. everyone is alive 9 months later) he needs more room than a lot of kids to let his mind grow. <br />
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our younger boy develops very typically. he picks things up more or less as he goes along and then we have occasional cognitive leaps. in contrast, with our oldest we pour information in over and over, repeat it for weeks on end and he shows no sign of comprehension. and then one day, or one week, everything we've been teaching him clicks and comes together and he can do all of it. months of information and work will come to fruition in a matter of days.<br />
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it is very frustrating. however, it is also something we are getting gradually more accustomed to and thus it is becoming much less stressful. this past time when the doctor put in the referral, we never went to the specialist. because i knew he would catch up. and i was correct.<br />
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granted, i was incredibly worried. as of july he was not prepared to start kindergarten. academically i no longer expect him to be front of the pack, but there were overall concepts, themes and systems that i didn't think his mind quite had a grasp on. lack of mental coordination to some extent i suppose you could call it.<br />
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one week before he was slated to start kindergarten, all the pieces joined together, in a matter of days. suddenly he was pretending to read, tracking his finger along with the words and making up the story based on the pictures (we have been working on this seriously since march. MARCH), he was paying attention to his brother's needs and helping us accommodate them, following directions, staying on one task for more than 5 minutes. he learned to swim and sound out SOME letters and began figuring out how to identify the starting letter of a word by the sound it makes. all of this happened, and more, in about 4 days.<br />
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hurry up and wait.<br />
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in the past 2 weeks or so both boys figured out how to swim (though the little guy can only swim with one breath. he hasn't figured out how to pop his head up, tread water and get another breath. that'll come!), the big guy has figured out diving and can swim the length of a pool. wild.<br />
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big guy also lost his THIRD tooth. he's not even 6 years old yet!!!<br />
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note the coloring on the wall behind him. THANKS, KIDS!</div>
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and our chickens laid their first egg<br />
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it's super tiny for now. they get bigger as the chicken figures its life out</div>
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hurry up and wait. for the rest of our lives, it would seem.the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-7339005173961151502015-08-11T10:42:00.002-07:002015-08-11T10:42:21.661-07:00Kindergarten 5.5 years ago i gave birth to my oldest boy. i had no idea what to do with a baby. i had very limited experience with newborns.<br />
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i tried to listen to what everyone told me. i read so many books.<br />
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as it turns out, a lot of the books were right, and a lot of the people were wrong.<br />
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i likely won't dole out a ton of baby advice on here, but let me give you my three most important pieces of advice real quick before we dive into the rest of this.<br />
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1. you will in fact sleep after your first baby is born. you'll sleep often. because newborns are only awake for a grand total of about 20 hours a day in their first week or two, and not usually awake for even half of the day in their first month. and you won't have anyone kicking you internally. people make newborns out to be life draining monsters. don't believe them. but do sleep when the baby sleeps. (disclaimer: note that i said FIRST baby. when your second baby comes, you are in fact effed. but after a couple of years, when your youngest child sleeps through the night and you have a normal routine again, you WILL sleep.)<br />
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2. always do what your heart says, not society. your motherly instincts will almost always be right. the most important thing for a new mom and baby is for a bond to be created and for nurturing to occur. trust yourself. your baby trusts you. do what is RIGHT for you, so long as it isn't abuse ;)<br />
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3. put towels under every car seat you ever use.<br />
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back to it. i have loved every stage of growth in my boys. i didn't find the newborn stage particularly awful, though it's not my favorite because they are really kind of boring, once you are done crooning for the day. we didn't have any true terrible 2s or 3s (my younger guy just turned 4, so i can't say anything about 4s for sure yet). we have trying periods, and we have good and bad days. but for the most part, i have loved watching them grow and develop.<br />
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i have often thought "holy cow, how did you get so big!?!?!" which is NOT the same as "where did my baby go!?!"<br />
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i have to admit that this may change and reverse when my boys are adults.<br />
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i do not look at my boys and see my babies.<br />
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when i look at my oldest, this is not what i think of:<br />
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i look at my boys and i am always seeing them in the future. imagining how their faces will grow and fill out and sharpen, how tall they might be, what kind of things they are going to be interested in, how they'll spend their time.<div>
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my oldest boy is going to kindergarten in 2 weeks. i doubt i will cry. i could not be more excited for him, for the life he is about to start. i realize that many parents cry out of excitement too!!</div>
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anyway, we as parents work so hard in those young years, teaching them to eat, to use a bathroom, discipline, to sleep well, kindness, their colors and letters, how to dress themselves, how to listen… we teach them how to function in social settings like classrooms and birthday parties. we imprint our values, our personalities, our moral codes, our ways of doing things on them, our music in the car, our favorite shows and movies. </div>
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they know what we've shown them.</div>
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and now they get to go out and pull pieces from the world around them. they will be opened up to so many concepts and characters and topics, they will have a chance to learn from a different teacher, to open up new pathways in their minds. they will begin to find parts of themselves by themselves. some will be bad i suppose. it's a mixed bag, naturally. </div>
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but what a truly magical thought: that we have begun a painting in these years, and now other hands will add to it. different brushes, strokes, color palettes, maybe entirely different mediums. all combining and mixing to make a collaborative work of art. </div>
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i can't wait to see what gets added to this masterpiece this year.</div>
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the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-14011172249685941452015-08-07T14:57:00.000-07:002015-08-07T14:57:02.844-07:00Eggswe are getting very close to having eggs!! our first group of girls are 18.5 weeks and our second batch of i'm-still-not-totally-sure-what-the-gender-make-up-is chickens are around 16 weeks. they have started this crazy weird moaning type of squawk and two of them are assuming the submissive squat position while just hanging out around the coop.<br />
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it's hard to see rosa parks back there, but she is definitely the youngest in terms of how close she is to laying. she's just a dainty lil lady, taking her sweet time.<br />
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i opened their nesting boxes 2 days ago and prepared them--they had previously been closed off so nobody would try to sleep or poop in them. i've also been searching around the run every day to see if they've picked their own place yet. so far, nothing. but i know it's coming!!<br />
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it's the two harry potter themed lavender orpingtons that are giving me fits. their waddles and combs seem far too big to be hens, and myrtle clearly has sickle feathers. i'm about 95% sure myrtle is more like a malfoy. except not evil.<br />
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hedwig up there, let me just tell you, is a giant, fat, ridiculous chicken. i have never seen a chicken so big. not that i've seen a lot of chickens in my day, but she is HUGE.<br />
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H.U.G.E. she has to be well over 8 pounds.<br />
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nobody is trying to crow yet, so we have some more time to prepare ourselves mentally for the possibility that one of those beauties is going to be dinner.<br />
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anyway, we are waiting very impatiently to see our first egg!! it should really be any day now, and i cannot wait to make a yummy soft boiled fresh egg with some cheddar grits. mmmmmmmm.<br />
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not much of an update. certainly a poorly worded blog to say the least.<br />
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can't all be winners!the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-58942626263219334952015-07-14T11:18:00.002-07:002015-07-14T11:18:47.118-07:00Decadejuly 14, 2005 is the day my brother died at 17 years old because of a water park accident in Ponca City, OK. the accident was due to the perceived invincibility that 17 year olds have, and gross negligence and childishness by the owners of the park.<br />
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his birthday was july 1.<br />
<br />
the first couple of years july was simply a hard month. it's a lot to reconcile yourself with in 2 weeks. sadness at the passing birthday, but also wanting to celebrate the life you had with someone, followed immediately by the day that stole them from your life in a fantastically precise sequence of random events.<br />
<br />
it sets a tone. your mind and body remember that turmoil of emotions and you become pavlov's dog. each day rings out and you salivate and then gorge yourself on grief.<br />
<br />
it's hard to break that cycle, especially when everyone surrounding you is victim to it as well. it seems normal. it seems impossible to defend against.<br />
<br />
i was very lucky last year to have a friend who had lost a sibling around the same ages that my brother and i were when he left earth. a friend whose family had come well out the other side.<br />
<br />
someone who graciously and gently reminded me that it was simply a day. and that i was giving it control over me.<br />
<br />
i think i began crying some time around 11:45 the evening of july 14, 2014. by far the longest i had ever made it in the previous 9 years. i didn't have much energy left to process that milestone, but the last year has given me plenty of time to mull it over.<br />
<br />
i came to realize that it WAS just a day. just july 14. a bad day for our family, yes. but probably a miraculous day for so many other families. we have dark days scattered throughout history. i certainly don't break down every year on the anniversary of the oklahoma city bombing, though that event was the first major disaster that i had full cognition of and made a huge impact on my childhood. the loss of my brother was much more profound than the feelings stirred in me on april 19, 1995. but i deeply grieved my brother for much longer than i grieved the victims of OKC.<br />
<br />
i have never believed that my brother was gone. gone here in front of me, yes. but i have, from the day he died, believed that he was still with me because of the great gift of communion with the saints. i call him the patron saint of peanut butter.<br />
<br />
(side note: in catholicism, theoretically everyone who gets through purgatory and into heaven is a saint. we just assume that some people make it through purgatory with rapid speed and have reasonable faith that they are in heaven because they performed miracles and thus appear to actually have undoubtedly had God's favor, so we canonize them. the pope will never canonize my brother and label him the patron saint of peanut butter, but i like to think Jesus fist bumps me whenever i say it)<br />
<br />
i talk to him often and i visualize him here with us, guarding us and witnessing our lives.<br />
<br />
he sees us laughing, loving, growing our families. he hears our jokes and sees our hugs. i'm sure he laughs when i use mom's lines on my own kids. he sees us lively, light, and joyful.<br />
<br />
and then he watches us allow it to abruptly come to a massive, screeching halt.<br />
<br />
because of him.<br />
<br />
i would never want that for my family if i left them here on earth.<br />
<br />
the inexplicable days where it's just too much, i would understand and feel sorrow. i wouldn't want my family to be in the throes of summer exhilaration, only to feel obligated to interrupt it so they could put on a mourning cloak for me and give power to the day i died.<br />
<br />
beyond that, i came to what i can only call a very catholic conclusion: this is one day. july 14 was one day in AJ's life. arguably the darkest day. the last day of his physical life. and that is a big deal.<br />
<br />
but it was not the last day of his spiritual life. it honestly may not have even been a profound day for his soul. it very likely was not the darkest nor the most profound moment in his soul's existence.<br />
<br />
if i believe his soul is still pulsing through eternity, there is no reason to treat this day with such somber reverence.<br />
<br />
on earth this day may signify a great loss. but in heaven, for all i know, today he is having a peanut butter party with our dog beaker and my grandma b and his cousin A and L (our sister's mother in law).<br />
<br />
i expected the 10 year mark to be earth shattering. to be as painful as our 10 year wedding anniversary will be joyful.<br />
<br />
instead (thankfully), it is just a tuesday. we're getting groceries and i taught the letters A and M to the kids at the gym. we ate lunch as a family and the kids got covered in dirt and sand. my first thoughts this morning centered around figuring out the schedule for the day and lamenting my stupidity for staying up until 3am to read.<br />
<br />
and for coffee. my first thoughts are always for coffee.<br />
<br />
rather than feeling guilty, i am finding that i finally feel free.<br />
<br />
and i find myself hoping and wishing for that freedom for everyone. not only for us, but for the loved ones we've all lost. <br />
<br />
i think they would want to be remembered for the life they led, not the day that life stopped on earth.<br />
<br />
at least that's what i want.the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-57881955174820558852015-06-29T07:57:00.001-07:002015-06-29T07:57:20.645-07:00Buck Cluck Squack A Doodle Do!sustainability has been heavy on my heart for a good while now.<br />
<br />
it's a common word in our culture today with the rising focus on green living. it's a great word, and one we should be focused on.<br />
<br />
i'll have other posts about this, but i've been trying to approach most things from a sustainable viewpoint.<br />
<br />
are my health habits sustainable? am i engaging in physical activity and nutritional intake that can be healthfully continued for years to come? are those activities feasible for the earth's continuance as well?<br />
<br />
are our food habits sustainable? are we eating seasonally, are we composting and putting discard back into the earth?<br />
<br />
are our financial habits sustainable? are we living within our means, are we planning for the future?<br />
<br />
on and on and on.<br />
<br />
one answer to these questions is our new friends:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh74pzjJbuEYRmY7UKzqgBR9qcnptDStjs7GSjZNjAtoFLi5yjs7JXHFkQrj7KHxGxmVOhJxQ1AjjCHLWL0LP740coEnV8yGhVp3eRyCBhmK9tjxkcbFdbZ3D3uJ9mwLnxX7WuntDRfwoU/s1600/10403488_904823976245666_7464837106408049806_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh74pzjJbuEYRmY7UKzqgBR9qcnptDStjs7GSjZNjAtoFLi5yjs7JXHFkQrj7KHxGxmVOhJxQ1AjjCHLWL0LP740coEnV8yGhVp3eRyCBhmK9tjxkcbFdbZ3D3uJ9mwLnxX7WuntDRfwoU/s640/10403488_904823976245666_7464837106408049806_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In no particular order, Raven, Oriole, Blanche, Jane, Hedwig, Myrtle and Rosa Parks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
after minimal research and maximum spontaneity, we came home one afternoon with 4 baby chicks. the brown and tan ones.<br />
<br />
guys, they were the cutest thing that has ever happened.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3HeO0JP1VIf3R9vsQ8XjLvbH_non12wjYnjBWytJQuA7Sj8W6BH672qD-lUxYkx-ju1A_D3PfzGoW9J6Kb-oGiFW1c4T03PHfBnXYQJIrQ_CbtqH62mGJ1Xs4G-qYLi6vuSUib-FFZZg/s1600/11127646_876229652438432_2807366371216602137_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3HeO0JP1VIf3R9vsQ8XjLvbH_non12wjYnjBWytJQuA7Sj8W6BH672qD-lUxYkx-ju1A_D3PfzGoW9J6Kb-oGiFW1c4T03PHfBnXYQJIrQ_CbtqH62mGJ1Xs4G-qYLi6vuSUib-FFZZg/s640/11127646_876229652438432_2807366371216602137_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">our oldest. he would sneak into the bathroom where they were living every morning to hang out with them</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjN5dfnkSVloxiwntd0FlmL0psDNsTN-XXcGlaD4csOSSWC2CIUTQhVIqC_ZreHBTx1RNIdqeSOhpsBZXKfuGc95MVU0jU4T3uQM5XTOO0tmy0jJIzW763I0PH7yP5kE-8KZQdT0_IbYc/s1600/11125269_874068659321198_7617758308013230507_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjN5dfnkSVloxiwntd0FlmL0psDNsTN-XXcGlaD4csOSSWC2CIUTQhVIqC_ZreHBTx1RNIdqeSOhpsBZXKfuGc95MVU0jU4T3uQM5XTOO0tmy0jJIzW763I0PH7yP5kE-8KZQdT0_IbYc/s640/11125269_874068659321198_7617758308013230507_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SERIOUSLY CANNOT CONTAIN THE CUTENESS</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX1d9USf9NUhFUErq_0ECBCepPsrnenurePPVVCphCi3s-yS8GdSDbP6G6yuHRGM5JB4-XJ3BDmzr8O8X_0APNqWgtfYwqWy2JKhA_qH1GYhsz2w9GBELSF3vHNdhQYTBBdgGoxtzgXK4/s1600/11169525_879022678825796_8050662661121097880_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX1d9USf9NUhFUErq_0ECBCepPsrnenurePPVVCphCi3s-yS8GdSDbP6G6yuHRGM5JB4-XJ3BDmzr8O8X_0APNqWgtfYwqWy2JKhA_qH1GYhsz2w9GBELSF3vHNdhQYTBBdgGoxtzgXK4/s640/11169525_879022678825796_8050662661121097880_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">guess what? chicken butt. get it?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
obviously i was smitten. they're easy to care for and they have great little personalities. from the beginning i could tell who would likely end up being the top chicken in the flock order, and i was right.<br />
<br />
it's jane.<br />
<br />
how did i know jane would be in charge? because jane would wait for everyone to fall asleep. cuddled together. ball o' adorable fluff.<br />
<br />
and then she wold open her little eyes ever so slightly. and look around, very gently.<br />
<br />
and then take a running nose dive underneath everyone, waking them up and sending them scattering and then she would sleep in the middle of where they just were, nice and warm, as though nothing ever happened.<br />
<br />
born politician, that jane.<br />
<br />
"but wait," you are saying to yourself. "i see only 4 chickens in those pictures. there are SEVEN in your first picture. i just went back and double checked and there are 7 names as well!"<br />
<br />
well done, observant one.<br />
<br />
i couldn't control my feelings toward the cuteness and i bought 3 more.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip49p4jQBMaGPkZcqSz-hf8Dt0apQ3k50EVopdzap1nWDSNWQ3jh4BhLYwhuuUm0yAttQAaVWCM3OpljBk-G2xMEtJ_Te2AMH9I3SQJXBUXDioEJSoQTIgwUbKom2MS_kTSi4ZtNOpyds/s1600/11010288_880353948692669_8241997219709129204_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip49p4jQBMaGPkZcqSz-hf8Dt0apQ3k50EVopdzap1nWDSNWQ3jh4BhLYwhuuUm0yAttQAaVWCM3OpljBk-G2xMEtJ_Te2AMH9I3SQJXBUXDioEJSoQTIgwUbKom2MS_kTSi4ZtNOpyds/s640/11010288_880353948692669_8241997219709129204_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the gray one and the black one were added to the flock when the bigger girls were about 2-3 weeks old.<br />jane was a dick about it and i took her out of the cage and made her watch everyone eat and she was<br />PISSED about it. but then she stopped nose-dive-running at the new babies and they were able to eat.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
we had to get the next 3 as a straight run, which means we had no idea if any would be roosters.<br />
<br />
turns out one is.<br />
<br />
roosters are against city ordinance. but it's hedwig, and i love him, and he has ridiculous swagger. so we are going to put a crow collar on him and hope for the best.<br />
<br />
so this brings me to sustainability again.<br />
<br />
chickens are a sustainable thing. they eat tons of table scraps and their poop is great for compost, and they give us eggs. it's a win-win-win. sustainable system.<br />
<br />
EXCEPT.<br />
<br />
when one of the people in your house goes overboard and gets 7 chickens and then goes to the backyard chicken class at the extension office AFTER getting attached to 7 chickens, you find out some interesting information.<br />
<br />
such as:<br />
<br />
the breeds of chicken we have usually lay about 6 eggs per week. each. each chicken. 6 eggs per week.<br />
<br />
obviously the rooster doesn't lay eggs.<br />
<br />
we have 6 hens. 6 eggs a week per hen.<br />
<br />
36 eggs a week.<br />
<br />
friends.<br />
<br />
that is not sustainable. WE WOULD ALL HAVE TO EAT 2 EGGS A DAY TO KEEP UP WITH THAT AND THE KIDS DON'T EVEN EAT EGGS!!!!!<br />
<br />
but now i love the chickens. so the sustainability picture expanded to include sales and barters. whatever.<br />
<br />
next problem.<br />
<br />
the rooster.<br />
<br />
who we are not supposed to have.<br />
<br />
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<br />
it got me thinking. chickens were made, like all other animals, to mate. studies and experience tell us that flocks are more complete with a rooster among them. roosters offer protection and are part of the flock order. and reproduction is certainly wise when it comes to a sustainable lifestyle.<br />
<br />
if we can keep the crow quiet and don't get in trouble with the city, and we let the chickens sit on some eggs every now and again and turn them into babies……<br />
<br />
well, then we can pick out the weak or aggressive chickens, or the extra roosters, and we suddenly have dinner. which, yes, means we have to kill chickens.<br />
<br />
suddenly, even though i'm not necessarily excited about killing chickens, i saw the system from a much more primal stance. this is how people survived. daily eggs and what can be hunted provide protein. the chickens eat the scraps and produce poop and waste that become compost, which feeds the soil to grow better crops. the crops feed the family and the scraps feed the chickens. chickens who are poor producers, weak, or mean get killed and eaten because it's better not just for us, but for the flock. a chicken who is making no eggs is making no babies and is just eating food that could be going to productive ladies. mean chickens and weak chickens are a threat to their own flock. the rooster protects and fertilizes. two roosters in a flock is a mess. they fight and harm more than they serve.<br />
<br />
it works.<br />
<br />
it makes sense.<br />
<br />
we don't need factories to feed us.<br />
<br />
granted, balance is nice and i'm sure pioneers would have loved to have loved a hungry man or two on harvest days when mama was too sick to make dinner.<br />
<br />
we survived this way for thousands of years.<br />
<br />
we won't be killing the original 7 any time soon and we are a good 6 months away from the first time we will be looking at killing a chicken for dinner. i'm sure i will write about it.<br />
<br />
i know we will face a lot of confusion and possibly a wee bit of backlash. but i hope more than anything that we can be part of a shift in this world. that we can be part of a generation that returns to the roots of ourselves, that values skill and knowledge and work, that remembers self-sufficiency and teaches it.<br />
<br />
if not, i'm sure i'll end up homesteading somewhere, as a total social outcast :Dthe bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-80590038275877106152015-06-28T09:18:00.000-07:002015-06-28T09:18:01.831-07:00I'm Not Going to Apologizei think that's common protocol to apologize for a blog absence.<br />
<br />
i won't.<br />
<br />
this is the internet.<br />
<br />
1. nobody cares that i didn't write for whatever number of years<br />
2. i don't care<br />
3. blogs are for A) cathartic release, like a journal, or B) informative purposes, like an excessively drawn out, but free, how-to book. mine is a journal, so i have the right to forget that i even had a journal for 3 years.<br />
4. meh<br />
<br />
there are a billion places to begin.<br />
<br />
my marriage has been in a precarious state for a number of years and it came to a big, pus-filled head last year in september. i saw a counselor who told me something to the effect of "the problems your husband is having are too big for you to handle. you are not big enough for this. God is sitting behind you while you claim that 'you have it under control and you don't need help and you'll figure it out', and He is waiting for you to say 'I don't have the skills or the knowledge, and i need someone else' so He can step in and do the dirty work."<br />
<br />
at the time i very conscientiously knew what she was saying. i went home and relinquished control over major things that most people would have had trouble letting go of.<br />
<br />
our marriage improved, he improved, and life has been good. i'm not going to break down the specifics dish out intimate details that don't need to be forever plastered on the internet.<br />
<br />
in this last month, several major components of my life slammed themselves into a large brick. there will be a spectrum of damage, from shattered beyond repair to minor restorative work. what falls where remains to be seen.<br />
<br />
i am tired. i gave all of my patience and understanding and grace and forgiveness, everything i had, last year when my marriage exploded. i have methods that i have grown accustomed to using in order to deal with stress. at least half of them are unavailable to me after the great brick wall incident of 2015.<br />
<br />
i am tired and cannot see my safety nets. or the end of the tightrope i am walking. or how high it is off the ground.<br />
<br />
i also cannot explain the situation in any literal terms, it seems. ANALOGIES FOR EVERYTHING!<br />
<br />
on thursday of last week, my cognitive understanding of the wisdom my counselor poured over me last fall was swallowed by a deep emotional understanding.<br />
<br />
it is not simply stepping back and releasing control over <i><b>some</b></i> things. demoting myself, or delegating responsibility to the Lord and taking what is left. delegation is still control. demotion still implies that you have a position within the system.<br />
<br />
it is stepping back entirely, against my will, because i know i will fail if i stay here. it is putting my life, my responsibilities, my duties, my joys, into His hands with no knowledge of what will happen.<br />
<br />
and then being covered with the peace that surpasses all understanding, right?<br />
<br />
sure.<br />
<br />
there is a peace. in the sense that the chaos is no longer mine. i am not sitting at the bed of the brick wall, sorting through pieces and trying to figure out what belongs where or is salvageable. my hands are not the ones bleeding. the gears of my mind are not the ones turning. the decisions aren't mine. i am back on some hill a hundred feet away, watching and waiting for someone to give me an update.<br />
<br />
i do not feel blissful. there are no soft, joyful, radiant beams gracefully enveloping my spirit, warming me into transcendence.<br />
<br />
i feel confident that in the end, what is left will be there because it was meant to be. i will always carry a strong conviction that there is a purpose for everything, because my God tells me so, my faith tells me so, and my life has proven it to be true thus far.<br />
<br />
i am not sure that peace is necessarily a positive or joyful thing. peace after war brings joy, certainly. it also produces tension and anxiety. it requires that people create new cultural norms. it forces us to finally see the ruins around us that we had to ignore in order to survive.<br />
<br />
peace can remove fear. that does not mean it removes pain.<br />
<br />
i think that kind of peace is beyond comprehension. sitting a hundred yards back on a hill, terrified, solemn, aware that the pile below may be entirely destroyed, heartbroken and disoriented, and yet not screaming or impeding the work being done, not fighting the people trying to help you, not cursing them, not burying yourself in the ground to die, cannot be processed. that peace can only be experienced.<br />
<br />
that kind of "peace" is the kind that tells you that the disaster will still be there if you walk away for a moment. it reminds you that you must trust the ones working, because <i><b>you cannot do better</b></i>. it reminds you that you cannot do anything right now. and it reminds you that at least once, maybe more, you were down in the shambles for someone else who couldn't do anything at that moment.<br />
<br />
so i took a break from the wreckage and carted my peaceful ass to reconciliation for the first time in 5 years and sat myself in a pew for Mass.<br />
<br />
and it helped.<br />
<br />
and i have started praying the rosary every night.<br />
<br />
and it helps.<br />
<br />
because i don't have to make up any of my own words for Mass or the Rosary, and God knows i'm far too tired to even do that.<br />
<br />
and then we will go to counseling and doctors and they will grind out plans that i will follow, and they will give instructions that i will follow.<br />
<br />
because that is all i am big enough to do right now.<br />
<br />
and honestly, i don't feel bad about it.<br />
<br />
so i'm not going to apologize.the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-12138813996693703802012-03-24T20:44:00.000-07:002012-03-24T20:44:15.591-07:00Circumstancesi went out to dinner with some of the other clearly crazy women who took on a role as a military man's counterpart.<br />
<br />
i ended up asking pretty much everyone at the table how they met their man. the stories were REALLY interesting!! that's a truly unique thing to military life-- all the moving around gives you the opportunity to encounter a host of experiences and people that you would never otherwise have been exposed to.<br />
<br />
and along that road, people often meet their spouses in some unexpected places.<br />
<br />
like on a street corner. in fact, after this evening, i know TWO couples who met each other on a street corner. one was dared by a friend to talk to one of the men in those cute sailor uniforms, another decided to make a snide remark to a girl he walked past at an intersection.<br />
<br />
the girl accepted the dare and has been married over 20 years.<br />
<br />
the snide remark quickly turned into wedding vows.<br />
<br />
i know someone who was at a bar with her girlfriends. a guy walked in, and a friend pointed him out and mentioned how cute he was. the (possibly intoxicated) girl said "i'm in love with him". they had never met.<br />
<br />
they were married in less than a year.<br />
<br />
one girl saw her husband for the first time in a dark theater and even then noticed how good looking he was. oddly, they figured out later, they became a couple on the exact same day as their first encounter, a year later.<br />
<br />
there are a lot of horror stories in the military in terms of relationships. but there are so many AMAZING stories too. total chance, right place right time, situations that could never have happened if it weren't for the military's role in the life of one of the partners.<br />
<br />
i would never have met my husband if it weren't for the military. and if not for the military, i wouldn't have two healthy little boys, comfortably provided for and cared for by a stay at home mom.<br />
<br />
e comes home for 2 weeks pretty soon, his vacation from the deployment. and then he goes back to a slightly different job than he's been doing the last 4 months. where he's been has hindered our communication just a tad. where he's going is going to hinder it quite a bit. it's not going to be easy. and i know i'll curse the military more than once during this time, as i have more than once in the past.<br />
<br />
but all in all, at the end of the day, there's a balance. there's joy, laughter, unity, grace, and hope. there are trials too, but that's true in every career, every walk of life, hm?<br />
<br />
here's to all of the joy that has arisen because of the armed forces-- every street corner romance, every nourished mouth, every chance meeting of friends around the globe.<br />
<br />
and here's to all the people who are showing up, little by little, at just the right time, that are helping me along this journey.<br />
<br />
thank you.the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-47787656186720798392012-03-20T07:09:00.001-07:002012-03-20T07:29:51.075-07:00Controli will try to make this brief, for the simple fact that i know enough of my own anger to know that it can be both explosive and lengthy if left unchecked.<br />
<br />
3 weeks ago i asked my primary care manager (re: my general physician) for a referral to a doctor who could place an IUD for me. i was called back a few days later and told they were quite capable of doing it at the clinic and their first open appointment was 2 weeks later. i said that was fine.<br />
<br />
i very VERY specifically, and repeatedly, requested a Paragard IUD and was specifically and repeatedly assured that it <i>would</i> be a Paragard.<br />
<br />
the morning of my appointment, after i got all checked in and was brought back to the room where placement was to happen, i sat waiting for them to input the last of my info in the computer.<br />
<br />
the device was removed from its box, wrapped in a sterile towel, and was sitting next to me waiting.<br />
<br />
the doctor came in to double check that i was in fact there for IUD placement. and then i was asked to get into the customary hospital gown.<br />
<br />
and that's when i saw the box. the nurse had been holding it in her lap, faced away from me, and was about to move it to a counter to my left. it was a Mirena. and i very quickly said "that's a Mirena, i'm here for a Paragard" to which the nurse responded<br />
<br />
"honey, they're the same thing"<br />
<br />
no, no they absolutely are not. this turned into a nearly half hour long argument between myself, a nurse, and 2 doctors who treated me in a manner that i will not elaborate on, but was at the very least unbelievably condescending.<br />
<br />
what happened in that room was illegal. a Mirena IUD is not a generic version of a Paragard. it is NOT an acceptable, similar substitute. it has hormones, a Paragard does not. they were going to place a long term device in my body without even telling me what it was, thus without my consent. and then when i called them on it, they tried to sweep it under the rug by simply assuming i would believe their assertion that the two were no different from one another.<br />
<br />
your doctors, pharmacists, whoever, do NOT have the right to give you ANY medication without informing you of what it is, the way it is to be used, and its side effects BEFORE the medicine is administered.<br />
<br />
what kills me about this is that their attitude about the whole thing tells me that they pull this garbage all the time. they obviously routinely tell women things like "it's the same" or use their awesome reasoning of "Paragard will make your periods heavier, you know that right?" as a way to scare women into taking the easier to obtain Mirena. (because that's what this came down to-- they have to order Paragards differently and it's a much longer and more complicated process than Mirenas, so when they made my appointment, they had Paragards in stock, but when i got there, they did not. and they wouldn't be in for weeks.)<br />
<br />
why is it that our society fights enormous, public battles for our right to terminate pregnancies, but nobody seems even remotely concerned with the fact that a scary percentage of women clearly don't know the difference, or the side effects, from one pregnancy-prevention drug to the next? doesn't it make more sense to inform people completely, extensively, even exhaustively, on their options that will prevent pregnancies, so they can make an informed, thought out, and individually tailored decision about what they want? don't you think more women (and girls for that matter) would be more prone to keeping up with their birth control routine, whatever it may be, if they felt totally confident in what that routine was, understood it, had some say and control in it?<br />
<br />
i do.<br />
<br />
here is the link to the <a href="http://www.mirena-us.com/safety/index.jsp" target="_blank"><i>side effects from Mirena</i></a>, a hormonal IUD that releases synthetic progestin. progestin is the main hormone used in the "mini-pill" as well.<br />
<br />
here is the link to the <a href="http://hcp.paragard.com/global/pdf/ParaGard_info.pdf#page=4" target="_blank"><i>side effects to Paragard</i></a>, a non-hormonal IUD<br />
<br />
here is a link to <a href="http://www.thepill.com/safety" target="_blank"><i>ONE version of the pill</i></a>, a hormonal form of birth control that uses a combination of synthetic progestin and synthetic estrogen.<br />
<br />
you only have one body. don't let a stranger tell you what's best for it.the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-81596650698101466612012-03-17T08:03:00.000-07:002012-03-17T08:03:40.909-07:00I am the VOOOOOOOOOICE!happy st patrick's day! here is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Patrick">obligatory link</a> to what this day is REALLY about. now i don't have to feel guilty about encouraging people to go out and mindlessly drink for unknown celebratory reasons!<br />
<br />
our house has been plagued by an enormous army of soldiers more commonly known as allergens.<br />
<br />
i seriously envision them stabbing our nasal cavities with bayonets fashioned from twigs, covered in pollen poison.<br />
<br />
i am still nursing, so the list of allergy medications i can take is limited- allergy medication by nature is meant to dry you out (runny nose, watery eyes, general oozing). it does not discriminate between phlegm and breastmilk, so many allergy medications can significantly deplete your milk supply. calvin basically refuses to accept that sippy cups have any purpose in life other than for him to fling around, so wiping out my milk supply seems like a very poor idea.<br />
<br />
and by poor, i clearly mean on par with whoever thought up jelly shoes.<br />
<br />
i can honestly deal with the discomfort. i gave birth naturally for heavens' sake! i am taking care of 2 children under the age of 3 by myself! i don't need no stinkin benadryl! i am woman! HEAR ME ROAR!!!<br />
<br />
ok, hear me hack and cough up a wad of snot while my whole face turns splotchy shades of red and i begin to cry involuntarily and i wait for my chest to explode.<br />
<br />
same thing as a roar.<br />
<br />
the worst part of allergies for me is that i can't sing. in fact, the last 3-4 mornings i've woken up barely able to talk. my sweet, sweet coffee from my <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/fisk42">brother in law</a> (BARISTA BROTHER IN LAWS ROCK!) has soothed my aching throat and the caffeine is probably the one thing that's really doing any work to relieve my constant headache.<br />
<br />
coffee is my best, local, friend.<br />
<br />
i have been singing more or less my whole life (which, if you recall my earlier post about being half deaf, is sort of a surprise to a lot of people). my brother dabbled a bit in a few stringed instruments and my sister got the double whammy and can both sing and play some music-machines.<br />
<br />
singing is cathartic for me. i don't have much cause to sing in the house. i'm usually sort of preoccupied. <br />
<br />
thankfully, with e gone i am the only one to run errands. also, our errands all magically have to be done at least 20 minutes away most of the time.<br />
<br />
so i sing in the car.<br />
<br />
it might be more accurate to say that i have a car-ride-long "the voice" style battle round with the radio.<br />
<br />
and i am ALWAYS the winner.<br />
<br />
adam levine would pick me EVERY time.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8yBYsOrvguyqxKvXfdDQntxh9fZgShUq09gmUUi2bn-3YkK5NfifSLjaZAXn-LltPWqbO2gxt-ElxTYFabpdKp57IFfswccx5WuUMxuJFCxiCehKhrGerfCc3ipZD-767DBY9xDp7IM/s1600/adam-levine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8yBYsOrvguyqxKvXfdDQntxh9fZgShUq09gmUUi2bn-3YkK5NfifSLjaZAXn-LltPWqbO2gxt-ElxTYFabpdKp57IFfswccx5WuUMxuJFCxiCehKhrGerfCc3ipZD-767DBY9xDp7IM/s320/adam-levine.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br />
blake might not, but i don't trust his decisions anyway.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPenXFpCqYaHQOva2kJOEYS11PNvxXmF5YvmXc7-LPCoBBXrN22LBEaRkFV8Q3RgUYvvRcCqez_-Brx9teDSvHW65nDATK2zQ8b5Jz3YINh3D7sG2o0AfRYTY7e6p9HSDaZsAvCDSROM/s1600/blake-shelton-voice-1-225x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPenXFpCqYaHQOva2kJOEYS11PNvxXmF5YvmXc7-LPCoBBXrN22LBEaRkFV8Q3RgUYvvRcCqez_-Brx9teDSvHW65nDATK2zQ8b5Jz3YINh3D7sG2o0AfRYTY7e6p9HSDaZsAvCDSROM/s1600/blake-shelton-voice-1-225x300.jpg" /></a></div><br />
cee lo's cat would even be turned on.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ8sSMhY86iNVJ0XetjEe6p1c41SySQC8ligk_Rqd-5kTc5O5yzPdJTSgtRaVhercq4EwLt5TW7M8OaWsRrmja2Hh2RAws_wekPhRWAd4RPyRa4TsxYVR_y-8cY_R-wFD8aA0W1QPKsfc/s1600/the-voice-cee-lo-evil-cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ8sSMhY86iNVJ0XetjEe6p1c41SySQC8ligk_Rqd-5kTc5O5yzPdJTSgtRaVhercq4EwLt5TW7M8OaWsRrmja2Hh2RAws_wekPhRWAd4RPyRa4TsxYVR_y-8cY_R-wFD8aA0W1QPKsfc/s320/the-voice-cee-lo-evil-cat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
and christina is begging me to let her sing on stage next to me<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbNyiCeUL4BVk4j1XhwOTC5ckzxzczCiAkzl9nlAH9u2wWcQLSWkaYPAEiZ7imtmbonzdHKsXHTuwoOQc6zflWEVBnTxRiNU8HY9ghJzhFepHG5zTgN1mCY702Mi1_Bh6-8NQSUe1Echs/s1600/christinasera.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbNyiCeUL4BVk4j1XhwOTC5ckzxzczCiAkzl9nlAH9u2wWcQLSWkaYPAEiZ7imtmbonzdHKsXHTuwoOQc6zflWEVBnTxRiNU8HY9ghJzhFepHG5zTgN1mCY702Mi1_Bh6-8NQSUe1Echs/s320/christinasera.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
it's all true. every bit. don't question it.<br />
<br />
there was a time when i would try really hard to look like i wasn't belting at the top of my lungs from the driver's seat. i was concerned that other drivers would make fun of me.<br />
<br />
and then a few years ago, a few thoughts dawned on me:<br />
<br />
1. nobody is paying that much attention to my car.<br />
<br />
2. i will NEVER see those people on the road again, so what's the worst they can do? make fun of me to their friends who i will also never meet? ooooh the horror of strangers making fun of me and my never ever knowing about it!!!<br />
<br />
3. it is really hard to hit all the dramatic notes of a song with your mouth half shut.<br />
<br />
so now i have no shame. i'm busting it out like i'm dreamlover mariah carey, like i own the road and allllllll those people are my audience. <br />
<br />
those honks are cheers of encouragement. the middle fingers? feverish clapping. they're on the phone calling their friends to tell them that they just saw the next american idol.<br />
<br />
i'm the sh*t girl, i'm the biggest hit girl (see what i did there?).<br />
<br />
but right now, i can't sing because my throat is under siege. so i sit hunched over in my car, bored, detached.<br />
<br />
yes, even a touch depressed.<br />
<br />
i have been eliminated from the battle round, voted off by POLLEN and the great state of alabama.<br />
<br />
but don't you worry folks, i'll come back swinging. it'll try to break me, but you see, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger....<br />
<br />
bwahahahahathe bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-65565814045647288642012-03-15T09:22:00.000-07:002012-03-15T09:22:12.977-07:00Promisei want to be more consistent with posting. i really, really do.<br />
<br />
i routinely come up with entire blog posts in my head while i'm driving around town tending to one of the many responsibilities i've been graciously given my by husband's absence.<br />
<br />
and then i forget all of it.<br />
<br />
so i try to come up with funny or interesting stuff on the fly.<br />
<br />
and it's never funny.<br />
<br />
or interesting.<br />
<br />
or good writing.<br />
<br />
i don't think it's writer's block. it feels more like life block i suppose. i could write if i had something worth writing about.<br />
<br />
"are you saying your kids aren't worth writing about!?! YOUR PRIDE AND JOY, THE APPLES OF YOUR EYE!? YOUR FLESH AND BLOOD!?!!?! they aren't INTERESTING enough for you?!?!"<br />
<br />
they are definitely interesting enough for me, but i don't feel the need to relive it all for the blogosphere. moreover, they aren't old enough to convey to me if they're ok with me broadcasting every detail of their lives on the interwebs.<br />
<br />
also, i still have myself convinced that my life blog-worthy. i haven't given up the belief that i have unique experiences in life that are worth telling the world about.<br />
<br />
though.... let's be honest.... i'm pretty cliche.<br />
<br />
blogging army wife? cliche.<br />
<br />
blogging mom of 2 young children? been done.<br />
<br />
blogging lady who is sort of into healthy living? totally common. and done better than me.<br />
<br />
blogging woman with a sense of humor? over it!<br />
<br />
i don't have a whole lot of "hasn't been done before" to write about. no truly unique perspective over here.<br />
<br />
but i really enjoy writing. so while i can't guarantee that every post i make will be epic, i'll try to keep up better.<br />
<br />
promise.the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-69589574982420917642012-03-06T18:05:00.001-08:002012-03-06T18:12:01.837-08:00My HusbandThis post will have capital letters. Don't be alarmed, I'm writing it on my iPad and the iPad is not lazy like I am.<br />
<br />
I write about e all the time. Well, I reference him, rather. He's my husband, so logically speaking there should be quite a few references to him- he's the father of my children and the person I chose to be my partner in this life. <br />
<br />
It makes sense that he would be mentioned here and there.<br />
<br />
E keeps me grounded. For every moment of neurosis I have, he has twice as many moments of zen. You could probably tell e that his left leg had been chewed off by a small army of wild turkeys and his only question would be "when can I get my space legs and do an iron man!?"<br />
<br />
Early in our relationship e told me one of the most profound things I've ever heard that I don't believe was actually intended to make the kind of impact that it did.<br />
<br />
E asked me "what is the coldest part of the day?"<br />
<br />
I thought about it. I know him well enough to know that he loves to ask questions whose answers seem obvious, but aren't.<br />
<br />
"just before sunrise?"<br />
<br />
"you'd think that. But it takes 7 minutes for the sun's warmth to reach earth, so the coldest part of the day is actually 6 minutes after sunrise."<br />
<br />
"Cool."<br />
<br />
"So when I was at beast and I was freezing my ass off doing pt in the morning, I would just wait until I saw the sun and then I would tell myself 'only 6 more minutes!'" <br />
<br />
If you know e, this more or less sums him up. He could choose to focus on the chill, choose to be irritated at already being cold for hours, to be angry at the inconvenience of distance and the limitations of heat's ability to travel to him. He could choose to be annoyed at having to exercise at 4am as a means for paying for college. He could whine, complain, groan and choose to be miserable.<br />
<br />
But he never does.<br />
<br />
Instead he chooses to accept the cold, the tired, the inconvenience as a means to an end, a fleeting discomfort that will be replaced by a great reward.<br />
<br />
I have thought about this very conversation hundreds of times in our short 3 years of marriage, but it seems the most striking right now.<br />
<br />
I feel like we as a family are in that 6 minute window. We aren't in total darkness by any means. The light visible, day has broken, hope is on the horizon. But the warmth hasn't reached us yet.<br />
<br />
This deployment has us caught in a strange paradox where I truly believe we are both finding out how strong we are individually and tipping our hats to the other's strength, yet at the same time we are the most vulnerable. At least for me, I see my husband in a very new, encouraging, and frankly, very attractive way. In a sense it does feel as though my view of him has been in a state of twilight, and his absence brought daybreak with it, shedding light on all of the things I love, respect and cherish about him. All of the things I miss. All of the things he is missing.<br />
<br />
There is light, but it seems to have become even colder. And I have a choice right now. I can focus on the chill. I can succumb to my anger that I've already been waiting for the warmth for months and I'm losing my patience with it. I can give in.<br />
<br />
Or I can follow the precedent set by my husband. The one filled with and powered by grace, by love and trust. The one that says that 6 minutes is not so long.<br />
<br />
Twelve months is not so long.<br />
<br />
Not when the end of those 12 months holds the man that will carry me for a lifetime, my rock, my partner, my foothold, my love.<br />
<br />
People tell me far too often that I am strong. I never know how to respond because it couldn't be farther from the truth. I could never be the woman, mother, wife, and person that I am if it weren't for the support of my husband. I am one half of a strong team.<br />
<br />
I don't know if e thought that conversation was much more than a fun anecdote. I've never told him how deeply, drastically, and permanently it affected me and my perception of him.<br />
<br />
It takes 6 minutes for the light you see to bring the warmth you feel. It takes time for hope to come to fruition. Don't give up.<br />
<br />
I married <i>that</i> man.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQM1ovQ9JJkkUR4l8ylnANRT5YDQqCdUpuK0tncDUSwgKLyvwOy_LCcqrGXCiGrPYYRYYD4sx3d7V4WCAyAQ11B09w50p710WfKa90iB-3IoAP9ZgSm3T91QEe329PiA-AWBX0lgxQ6U/s1600/sunrise-among-snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQM1ovQ9JJkkUR4l8ylnANRT5YDQqCdUpuK0tncDUSwgKLyvwOy_LCcqrGXCiGrPYYRYYD4sx3d7V4WCAyAQ11B09w50p710WfKa90iB-3IoAP9ZgSm3T91QEe329PiA-AWBX0lgxQ6U/s640/sunrise-among-snow.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-58061538956835938492012-02-17T19:59:00.000-08:002012-02-17T19:59:45.732-08:00Sounds like......i've had my BAHA since approximately 10:15am on wednesday, february 15, 2012.<br />
<br />
aside from being asleep, i think it has been off of my head for a total of 2 hours. that includes showering.<br />
<br />
there are some downsides to it, some things that need to be tweaked-- music keeps causing feedback after 10-15 minutes of listening, particularly with treble heavy music (in other words, my hearing aid ALSO hates katy perry. we are a perfect fit!) and when my hair is down i hear it swishing on the hearing aid a whole bunch so i have to keep my hair pulled back, which is giving me a headache! but taking a tylenol or two for a few days is well worth being able to hear!<br />
<br />
when i took it off wednesday night, i ended up staying awake for a little bit playing spades and trying to settle myself down.<br />
<br />
it was the first time i've ever really, truly felt deaf.<br />
<br />
after spending a day "hearing" the world to the left of me, i was in love. when i heard stereo for the first time that afternoon, there was no turning back. i am in complete awe.<br />
<br />
the appropriate thing to do would be to write a post about how life changing this is, the emotional weight of the situation, etc etc.<br />
<br />
instead, i will make fun of myself.<br />
<br />
people keep asking me what it's like to hear. it's so kind, and they are SO excited for me! but THEY already can hear. the best way to answer that question is to tell them the things that i am hearing differently.<br />
<br />
but....<br />
<br />
if you aren't deaf at all..... then you've never heard like a deaf person...... even if you plug an ear with your finger, there is still some residual sound, you can hear yourself talking. not the case with deafness. it is totally dead.<br />
<br />
so when i say things like "the song 'boys of summer' by the eagles-- there are SEAGULLS in the background of the track!!!!!'" i mostly get blank, happy stares. like they're waiting for me to continue and explain the amazing part.<br />
<br />
like i'm supposed to say "don henley came TO MY HOUSE and sang it IN MY DRIVEWAY!!!!!! THAT'S WHAT A HEARING AID DOES!!!!"<br />
<br />
or i could say "the microwave hinges creak a little!!"<br />
<br />
people generally tune that kind of thing out?<br />
<br />
ok, maybe this is better:<br />
<br />
"the world is effing LOUD"<br />
<br />
stating the obvious?<br />
<br />
"I CAN HEAR MY KIDS CRYING FROM ANYWHERE IN THE HOUSE!!!!"<br />
<br />
that...... doesn't sound appealing at all.... even to me as i'm typing it....<br />
<br />
"i was able to turn down my radio and my tv volume by almost HALF!"<br />
<br />
i can only imagine the response to that will be great gratitude from those people who've been subjected to my apparently roaring media equipment.<br />
<br />
but in all seriousness, the best way i think i've come up with so far to explain this is to say that it's as though my hearing is 3 dimensional-- there are layers and waves where before there was just one steady line. after my wedding day and the birthdays of both of our boys, this takes the #4 spot without contest.the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-22562221010568167832012-02-15T20:33:00.000-08:002012-02-16T06:39:05.165-08:00Going Live<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtvvTAzet7nNaMsCyfRlvUyFJi_gUSH8qQHbtnrsDAtPQpqjygW9rqXXVQTuY56FJUmqXjoXduv6yOSRRWfouAVx8PoTk5uqRCOfnY9mletVK78eToGiAB1avCDy_gWtRQ4BJqpakJy0/s1600/BAHA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtvvTAzet7nNaMsCyfRlvUyFJi_gUSH8qQHbtnrsDAtPQpqjygW9rqXXVQTuY56FJUmqXjoXduv6yOSRRWfouAVx8PoTk5uqRCOfnY9mletVK78eToGiAB1avCDy_gWtRQ4BJqpakJy0/s1600/BAHA.jpg" /></a><br />
you're going to want to view this in the "sidebar" mode, in order to see the line of pictures of the healing progress. the link to side bar mode should be just above this and slightly to the left :D<br />
<br />
fun fact about me that i think i've thrown on here before: i'm hearing impaired! i have been completely deaf in my left ear for as long as i can remember. we found out when i was 8 and the cause is unknown, though the best theory they have is that my bones and nerves didn't grow with the rest of me. none of those things are connected. so i have a fully functional inner ear, but you could say that i don't have an extension cord long enough to reach the outlet :)<br />
<br />
there's this awesome piece of technology called a BAHA. it stands for bone anchored hearing aid. it works by implanting a titanium screw in your skull in the bone behind your ear. that screw has a snap attachment on the end that sticks out of your head and you snap a processor onto it. that processor takes in sound and vibrates it into your skull, which in turn vibrates the sound to your other ear. sort of like a tuning fork, as it were. so you hear things on your deaf side through your hearing ear.<br />
<br />
pretty amazing, huh!?<br />
<br />
well, i've known about this particular device since one of my annual hearing tests in college. my insurance at the time wouldn't even cover a hearing aid (that's actually very common by the way. you can get viagra, but not hearing aids, through most insurance. apparently sex is necessary to every day living, but not hearing. priorities!). then i got married and military insurance DOES cover the hearing aid! aaaaaaah!!!!!! i was sort of deadlocked in the process at our first base because of a lack of ENTs in the area, specifically any who knew what a BAHA was or how to do the surgery.<br />
<br />
then i got pregnant. in addition to not being able to have surgery whilst incubating, pregnancy itself can change your hearing. so i would have to start from square 0 after jp was born.<br />
<br />
well, jp came. i started the process while we were trying for our second baby, just in case it took us some time to get pregnant. well, it didn't take much time at all! so it was back to the beginning again!<br />
<br />
finally, at the end of november of 2011, i got my hearing test and my referral to the ENT to determine if i was a candidate.<br />
<br />
by now i had been waiting 6 years. really, i had been waiting for 20 years, but i didn't even know i could change my life until 6 years ago.<br />
<br />
there was a "test" piece, a metal headband with the processor attached that presses the processor into your bone to give you an idea of what kind of sound you may gain. it's a faint shadow of the sound you get with the real abutment because it has to fight through skin, tissue, muscle, nerve, etc.<br />
<br />
but it worked. i could hear.<br />
<br />
it was the strangest thing. i kept thinking jp was getting into things he should not while i was making breakfast or putting away laundry, because he was being so loud and so indiscreet! but he wasn't doing anything odd. it was just that i couldn't always hear the clicks, slides, bangs, footsteps and swishes of his every day play when i was in other rooms because walls muted sounds and i was carrying dead weight on one side.<br />
<br />
i have no way to describe the difference. the best i can come up with is just "more". maybe richer. instead of a 6 string guitar, a 12 string. or instead of a quartet, a full orchestra, playing at the same volume as before, but with dozens more instruments.<br />
<br />
and i begged them to schedule the fastest surgery date i could get. it was nearly a month later, which seemed like an eternity and a millisecond all at once. the holidays did me a giant favor in passing time and before i knew it surgery day arrived.<br />
<br />
i did it with a local numbing and no sedation (a lot like dental surgery, but on your skull..... sooo..... maybe not like dental surgery haha!) and was out of the hospital within an hour of getting out of surgery.<br />
<br />
it's a 6 week-3 month wait to get your processor, depending on how well/quickly you heal.<br />
<br />
i heal like wolverine. no lie.<br />
<br />
at my 3 week check up the ENT said that it was healing so well we could probably attach it now, but it would be best to wait and make sure the thing is REALLY solid so it doesn't get shaken loose and fall out.<br />
<br />
i agree. once this is in, i sincerely doubt i'm going to want to go another 6 weeks without it, ever again.<br />
<br />
i will be able to sit shot gun in a car and hear the passenger without turning my head. i can potentially go to movies with stereo and be able to catch what's going on. i can walk on whatever side of people i like. i can read books to my kids, jp on the left, calvin on the right, and i will be able to hear them both talk to me. the list goes on. i'll never be able to go back.<br />
<br />
i can wait 3 more weeks for years of uninterrupted hearing.<br />
<br />
so there's the picture slideshow of my healing process, from day 0 to right before i got the processor.<br />
<br />
sorry if this somehow makes ya queasy! i actually don't think it's bad at all! i was really impressed with how well it healed up and how gross it didn't look, especially compared to some other sites i've seen.<br />
<br />
<br />
and here's the box!!<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWj5XchHPOPzIZaWZ2pNTJz24mHIDo6xoNtnTYf_8MpvylfBD1UFhzDdhicm13SHudxjnOixai01fryjsSip7K7OSG-lfNUkojWly4v_bXWqwy-fW7XKwal4S5UyHToU_nN3W0Hb5omm0/s1600/IMG-20120215-00445.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWj5XchHPOPzIZaWZ2pNTJz24mHIDo6xoNtnTYf_8MpvylfBD1UFhzDdhicm13SHudxjnOixai01fryjsSip7K7OSG-lfNUkojWly4v_bXWqwy-fW7XKwal4S5UyHToU_nN3W0Hb5omm0/s400/IMG-20120215-00445.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
there aren't many ways i can go about describing what this day has been like. i got the processor at 10am and i don't think my life will ever be the same. that sounds so cliche, but it's true.<br />
<br />
my mom was kind enough to shoot a video of me listening to surround sound for the first time so that e could see it. i asked my folks which movies were good for surround sound, and their first pick was armageddon.<br />
<br />
turns out armageddon is $10 to rent on amazon instant video!!! WHAT THE!!? ridiculous.<br />
<br />
so we went with pick #2, top gun :D<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELkwxqovNm4&feature=youtube_gdata_player"> here it is!</a><br />
<br />
as an added bonus, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sv9-_nSeZWA&context=C3d776c1ADOEgsToPDskJj4JgqYaKgNGLyWb9YRoGA">there's a video of my parents</a>! the BAHA processor kit comes with a little piece of plastic (i think? it may be something else) that the processor can be placed inside, and then pressed to your forehead so you can hear sound the way a BAHA user hears sound (sort of-- a BAHA implant is much clearer!). today is my dad's birthday, so i would say in general, this was a pretty cool gift :) i think he'd agree!the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-77199487138154941132012-02-05T10:53:00.000-08:002012-02-06T17:59:02.640-08:002.thursday morning started off normally. playing, eating, coffee, etc. my mom came to watch the boys while i was at an appointment. an hour before i had to leave, i began vomiting suddenly and for no reason. the churning went on for a good 2 or so hours and then i was fine.<br />
<br />
odd.<br />
<br />
i must have eaten something strange.<br />
<br />
friday morning i woke up and before i even got out of bed i thought "we're canceling speech therapy this morning". we rarely miss sessions and i was exhausted and felt like playing hooky. and let's be honest here, i was hoping to hear from e.<br />
<br />
but i rallied and gave myself the "you're a mom, you have to be responsible now, his well being is more important than yours" speech and got out of bed to change him and get his food.<br />
<br />
i smelled the poop before i even got to the door.<br />
<br />
now, that's not uncommon, for me to smell poop before i open the door. we eat a decent amount of veggies. it leaves a potent smell.<br />
<br />
i was not prepared for the sight i would encounter upon opening the door.<br />
<br />
let's just say that the cream colored carpet and his foam alphabet mat had developed quite the display of polka dots. but not the cute pink kind.<br />
<br />
it was everywhere. EVERYWHERE. my whole body just froze and my mind began to panic. "HOW ARE WE GOING TO CLEAN THIS UP?!?! THERE IS NO WE, IT'S ON YOU!!!! HOW DO YOU GET POOP OUT OF CARPET!??!! IS IT SIMILAR TO JELLY!?!?! I KNOW HOW TO GET JELLY OUT!!!! DO I EVEN HAVE SHAVING CREAM!?! WE'LL NEVER GET OUR SECURITY DEPOSIT BACK!!!!"<br />
<br />
and then the best part. i remembered we had guests coming to stay the night. in about 4 hours.<br />
<br />
i haven't showered. i didn't clean up the house last night. i have to change the sheets and bedding in the guest room. the dishes aren't done. the house is in utter disarray.<br />
<br />
the 2 year old is covered in poop.<br />
<br />
"HOLY CRAP LETS START WITH THE 2 YEAR OLD!!!! GENIUS! IF THE POOP PRODUCER NO LONGER HAS POOP THEN WE CAN START CLEANING!"<br />
<br />
thank goodness jp loves baths. i un-diapered him, threw him in, and set to work on his room.<br />
<br />
too much. too much poop. too much "what the hell do i do!?"<br />
<br />
google.<br />
<br />
back to cleaning.<br />
<br />
i decided the best approach for the ABC mat was to just pick it up and put it in the bath with jp and then turn on the shower. he was delighted.<br />
<br />
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next, on to the carpet. thank heavens he stayed out of his bed, so i didn't have to do a full sheet-bedding-mattress cleaning on top of everything else.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHqpSuOAjjmC1x4isT527iiYAruNc6wBNlxSqsmMsWO19g1SePlJRSZOb9T3Et4O7T47etx08bsAN4i7t7V9cz171TB_pa9VjD7yZSlNVp9RHGrnhdjg_apmjak71lMsSuyRIKQ2SOu9A/s1600/DSC_0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHqpSuOAjjmC1x4isT527iiYAruNc6wBNlxSqsmMsWO19g1SePlJRSZOb9T3Et4O7T47etx08bsAN4i7t7V9cz171TB_pa9VjD7yZSlNVp9RHGrnhdjg_apmjak71lMsSuyRIKQ2SOu9A/s400/DSC_0011.JPG" width="267" /></a></div><br />
<br />
there were casualties. his cute lil' toy story couch is sitting sadly next to our garbage can, a depressing parallel to the the third installment of the movies.<br />
<br />
i feel like i should apologize to woody and buzz.<br />
<br />
a few books weren't worth trying to clean.<br />
<br />
i get shaving cream and vinegar worked into the carpet and go back to check on jp- he has created, literally, a pond next to the bathtub.<br />
<br />
i go into the hallway and yell an obscenity at the top of my lungs.<br />
<br />
back to the linen closet for more towels to soak up said pond.<br />
<br />
back to cleaning.<br />
<br />
my mom graciously came to help.<br />
<br />
it took nearly 2 hours to deal with the aftermath. an hour later my little boy with an upset tummy took an early nap.<br />
<br />
i put calvin in his exersaucer and sat down on the couch for a moment.<br />
<br />
it was quite. the house was ready.<br />
<br />
relief.<br />
<br />
i smile at calvin, he grunts, i pick him up and lay him down near the diaper station.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuhuOD4MVtBDosB2kZKlGV1qDtzDd12oAl9o-vZrIrkhJsPgQg8mU11r-VLeSv2ML_CXVRafV6kApWjQROktJdfTfGqMEgrqCb1ZYyl5eD5mdK07qLCV313tcVZHXr55NBN58OwsoJ7o0/s1600/DSC_0012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuhuOD4MVtBDosB2kZKlGV1qDtzDd12oAl9o-vZrIrkhJsPgQg8mU11r-VLeSv2ML_CXVRafV6kApWjQROktJdfTfGqMEgrqCb1ZYyl5eD5mdK07qLCV313tcVZHXr55NBN58OwsoJ7o0/s400/DSC_0012.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
i remove his diaper.<br />
<br />
poop. all the way up the back. spilling out of the diaper.<br />
<br />
at least this time it was contained in a onesie. and i still had 2 more loads of laundry to do to be back on top of the earlier poop situation.<br />
<br />
when both of your children have managed to unintentionally get poop outside of their diapers before lunch time, you have not only lost the battle.... but the war.the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-73808184840291934942012-01-29T19:50:00.000-08:002012-02-17T20:09:26.062-08:00Grown Up Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-wYue4IzUf5Ci1js-5dwU3DG8PK_uaPGGVmLx9ptockKoIVj7YiuUcZ_DAr40VczbHp_hBnZSvdzmw-ghnlJW8vU5gFsTA8k85NgFaYA_ySLGSXpN3YmS2m3ACpxCOL5Gz3TOMufmsI/s1600/Exported+-+Leanne+-+page+1+-+20120127_175109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-wYue4IzUf5Ci1js-5dwU3DG8PK_uaPGGVmLx9ptockKoIVj7YiuUcZ_DAr40VczbHp_hBnZSvdzmw-ghnlJW8vU5gFsTA8k85NgFaYA_ySLGSXpN3YmS2m3ACpxCOL5Gz3TOMufmsI/s640/Exported+-+Leanne+-+page+1+-+20120127_175109.jpg" width="450" /></a></div>e has been gone for nearly 3 months now. it's actually going beautifully, but it was quite the rough adjustment in the beginning and blogging was pretty far down n my list. somewhere after dishes, meals, laundry, diapers, baths, showers, groceries, doctors, post office, gas, vacuuming, medicine, diapers, cold and flu season, birthday, christmas..... you get the idea.<br />
<br />
another one of our unit's lovely lady counterparts and i were talking this evening about that glorious time in your life called "youth". <br />
<br />
i don't miss high school one bit. but e and i met when we were both essentially done with college, so we skipped a lot of those giddy phases that 15 year olds are so lucky to immerse themselves in daily. i joked about sending e a love note a la freshman year of high school.<br />
<br />
and then i went ahead and did it. in a program on the iPad. via email. to myself. to post here. because if i sent this to him, he would stop talking to me. immediately. and i<br />
am already hurting for adult conversation.<br />
<br />
there are times when i feel like e and i were robbed of a lot of romance and the frivolity that comes with being young and poor and in love. our marriage is pretty much stellar and i wouldn't want to give up any part of who we are and how we came to be husband and wife.<br />
<br />
but i'd be lying if i didn't say that i wish we had more stories to tell about getting drunk when we were 17 and nearly pissing ourselves because we thought our parents would notice the 2 missing cans of beer that it required for us to become totally wasted. (for the record, it still only takes me one can of beer.)<br />
<br />
or memories of making out in the minivan after one of us got our licenses (yes, we both drove vans in high school. clearly we were made for each other).<br />
<br />
or senior prom. oh how i wish i could have been his date so i could mock his gelled hair now. (there was nothing to mock about me. i was a glowing vision of elegance at my senior prom. just trust me, don't reference any pictures)<br />
<br />
i wish i had 3-ring binders or folders full of notes scrawled during boring lectures about things that it turns out we actually did need in college AND in real life. i would like to sit on the floor of our bedroom during these lonely months and open a decoupage-d box full of origami fortune tellers, pressed flowers from the bush outside the school theater, pictures of us laughing in the stands in our band uniforms with braces and awkward physiology.<br />
<br />
i would love to have those little momentos of a time when we were so unsure of who we were and where we would end up, when we were desperately clinging to every second, relishing in every hand held, every kiss shared, every hour alone together. i would love more memories of a time when we were careful with each other and passionate because we couldn't tell if the other would stay but we wanted them to so so so badly.<br />
<br />
i would like more dried flowers hanging above my bed. more obviously staged photographs in more beaded evening gowns. more dates to dairy queen.<br />
<br />
more metabolism.<br />
<br />
instead i have all these silly tokens of love laying around here-- a washer and dryer, our first flat screen tv. a kitchenaid mixer, a couch with a chaise, a queen sized pillowtop mattress and sleigh bed frame. a minivan.<br />
<br />
OH, two kids. we have two kids, forgot about them.<br />
<br />
a house whose rent we can afford, as well as the utilities. student loans that have never gone into deferment or default. a savings account.<br />
<br />
empty bottles of wine atop the refrigerator. a wine glass (or 2.... or 3....) full of corks. a few more glasses full of bottle caps from parties shared with friends that have remained such despite time and distance.<br />
<br />
i wish we had a longer "crazy in love" stage in our relationship. don't get me wrong, we're crazy in love. and we were crazy, you can ask our families. but we weren't reckless and giddy for very long. we had jobs for heavens sake! careers even! and then babies! can't be frivolous and silly when babies come along! well, not with each other anyway. you can be frivolous and silly with babies all day long! <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LBqZT-YgHeQ&context=C3d776c1ADOEgsToPDskJj4JgqYaKgNGLyWb9YRoGA">they seem to enjoy it, as a matter of fact</a>....<br />
<br />
i'm not sure there's a point to this at all. i rarely have points, eh? simply put, it seems that already, in my mid 20s, i see the "grass is greener" pattern that all of the world seems to fall into. when you're 15 you just wish for permanent, grown up love--or at least your over-fantasized visions of it. when you're living out that grown up love, you yearn for the recklessness of your youthful escapades.<br />
<br />
perhaps there's a happy medium somewhere. though, i sincerely doubt it involves neon crayola rainbows vomiting colored pencil hearts onto wide ruled paper.<br />
<br />
but that's just a theory.the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-64494793096815135762011-10-23T08:20:00.000-07:002011-10-23T08:20:31.980-07:00Parents Know How to Partye and i have developed a harry potter obsession. admittedly, it started with my love for the charming movies. i forced e to participate in a harry potter marathon 2 weeks before the final film hit theaters. he was hooked.<br />
<br />
since then we have both read all of the books and purchased the first seven installments.<br />
<br />
we are nerds. <br />
<br />
so two nights ago after jp fell asleep and calvin was resting as well, we decided to pop in one of the HP movies we now own and cozy up on the couch together.<br />
<br />
calvin had other plans. screaming ensued for 1.5 hours. he was inconsolable. around midnight he finally went off to dream land and we firmly agreed that no sandman was going to destroy our cuddle plans! e went out to smoke before we started the movie again.<br />
<br />
i was asleep before he got back inside.<br />
<br />
i woke up an hour later, my head soaking wet. i was in such a sleep induced daze that i began panicking and interrogating my husband: "why am i wet? what happened?! why is my head wet!?!" i was even crying.<br />
<br />
this night is going so well.<br />
<br />
e finally explained: "when i came back in from smoking you were already asleep, but i knew you wanted to cuddle, so i got a hard cider and came and sat down on the couch and moved your head onto my lap so we were cuddling. but i fell asleep holding the cider... and i must have accidentally let it slip and pour out onto your head..."<br />
<br />
college kids, you WISH you knew how to party like us.the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-6484245234249907662011-10-19T08:52:00.000-07:002011-10-19T08:52:33.255-07:00And We're Backi will not make excuses. we have had a rough 2 months and blogging was so low down on my list of priorities that i can't honestly even say that i feel bad about my absence. so i won't apologize either! :)<br />
<br />
but we are 2 weeks out from e's first year-long deployment as an EOD tech and i think that this blog will end up being the place i can go to help find my sanity since my husband won't be able to fulfill that role as consistently as he usually does.<br />
<br />
time has taken on a constant bi-polar quality. i find myself angrily marking the hours during the work day that e spends away from us, cursing the inventory, physicals, gear collecting and other tasks that keep him on post until dinner time or later. once he's home i begin the sleep battle-- how late can i stay awake with him before i forfeit tomorrow's functionality? and all of the hours between angry and desperate i'm trying to find joy in every moment that we spend in the same room, soaking in the feeling of his presence, the warmth of another adult in the house with me, relaxed and hanging out on the couch watching some stupid show that we love. <br />
<br />
will this be the last bath he gives jp until he comes home for r&r next year? will this be the last time i make him tuna melts, one of his favorites? how can i make this time special, make it count? how much is too much to ask of him? how few disagreements and frustrated outbursts can we manage before he leaves? two tuesdays left together. two mondays. after today there will only be two wednesdays. possibly 3 days of football. six speech therapy sessions. 17 dinners. probably somewhere close to 30 loads of laundry ;) it's exhausting. but i'll have a year to catch up on sleep after the boys go to bed. if, God forbid, anything were ever to happen to him, i will never regret staying up later, working harder to create less friction, making more memories. <br />
<br />
i'm overwhelmed with emotions and fears right now. however, there isn't much i can do but walk forward into the storm and press on. it's not mere strength that keeps military wives afloat, it's the acute knowledge of necessity. <br />
<br />
so here we go, into the unknown, because it's necessary. because it's asked of us and refusal in this case would mean giving up on a husband, a father, a soldier, a marriage, a family and a way of life. we weren't ignorant of this part of the lifestyle when we chose it.<br />
<br />
time to put our money where our mouths are.the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-7732409699226125632011-08-23T08:06:00.000-07:002011-08-23T08:06:16.086-07:00At Least This Time I Have an Excuseso, we got settled in to the new house. we got into a decent routine. i had a week of great cooking to include an experimental recipe that i was 100% prepared to blog about.<br />
<br />
and then<br />
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calvin james was born august 9, 2011, 6lbs 14oz, 19.5in long, at 8:50 p.m. <br />
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labor lasted 8 hours with about 2 minutes of pushing. epidural free the whole way :) he's beautiful and we are all settling into life as a family of four.the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-7564348038302578372011-07-29T08:25:00.000-07:002011-07-29T11:40:28.999-07:00Thirty Seventime flies when you're having fun! or getting robbed?<br />
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it doesn't seem possible that we've reached "full term". today i am 37 full weeks pregnant. three weeks until my due date. if you passed me on the street you could still miss the fact that i am a human incubator. two moves in 2.5 months makes it pretty hard to gain excessive amounts of weight, and i carry small anyhow. you should see the looks on people's faces when they ask how far along i am. i'm convinced that most of them think i am either lying or exaggerating.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmFD4xVmVTBw9d_Uh0CM4YExHH_Gg-NdrDAeklE_VhW3RUZ5CCdgg8mLPO_ErwxNXYxLXY5Pc8h_H6ESV0qpKkXJlz-EoFYTyTrrnSRp2QAa7mBecXWu67GxDA5y3ShylS3yM1idP3Phk/s1600/%2521cid__IMG-20110729-00134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmFD4xVmVTBw9d_Uh0CM4YExHH_Gg-NdrDAeklE_VhW3RUZ5CCdgg8mLPO_ErwxNXYxLXY5Pc8h_H6ESV0qpKkXJlz-EoFYTyTrrnSRp2QAa7mBecXWu67GxDA5y3ShylS3yM1idP3Phk/s640/%2521cid__IMG-20110729-00134.jpg" width="640" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">from the side </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht_LipX4NHUrrSs-WWcmxUH1mb62P2UTkn5t3XoqT-TH6Gjp6kfca-AJt6K-htAIQuGadDSivAWFwOe5TtyAJ5wtbYFnJKmcFQDRnborFIhsMkswQ7xnius7hytlFSZZ_lILWXxj6P9Z0/s1600/%2521cid__IMG-20110729-00136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht_LipX4NHUrrSs-WWcmxUH1mb62P2UTkn5t3XoqT-TH6Gjp6kfca-AJt6K-htAIQuGadDSivAWFwOe5TtyAJ5wtbYFnJKmcFQDRnborFIhsMkswQ7xnius7hytlFSZZ_lILWXxj6P9Z0/s640/%2521cid__IMG-20110729-00136.jpg" width="640" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">from the front-ish </div><br />
as we're counting down days (and sometimes hours or minutes!) i find myself reflecting back to this point in my pregnancy with jp. the differences are so vast. there was so much anxiety with jp, and frustration. my pre-eclampsia was being all but dismissed by midwives who were so sure that their years of experience overrode my knowledge of my own body. i was bored and far too focused on the unknowns inside my tummy and the unknowns that surround a first time pregnancy and labor. i over-thought EVERYTHING. my hormones were wildly out of control (something i did not fully realize until a few months after jp was born. i apologized to e repeatedly). jp was a very strong baby who was not shy about letting me know that he had run out of what he considered adequate space. he bruised me from the inside more than once (that notion held true after delivery. we expected a typical newborn--always curled up, limbs tight. he began sprawling out in his sleep almost immediately). i was desperate to have him out, to hold him, to be his mommy and have our family. and 2 days from where i am right now, my wish came true through a nightmarish labor that was induced because my pre-eclampsia (you know, the thing i had been trying to warn the midwives about for weeks) had flared up to a level that a doctor considered "more hostile for your baby than life outside your womb". we began induction at 37w2d and he was born at 37w4d, measuring at about the size of a 36 week-er and not breathing at all. he spent the first 12 hours of his life under an oxygen hood. in recovery, after he was born, my blood pressure capped out in the 170s/120s. it was a bit traumatizing.<br />
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obviously entirely worth it though, don't get me wrong!!! and he was fine, just a bit traumatized from the birth as well. but it wasn't something i wanted to relive, ever.<br />
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so i've been nervous throughout this pregnancy, keeping an eye on anything that might have seemed strange or indicative of a rising problem. there were several things that caught my attention- uncharacteristically low blood pressure, high heart rate, dizzy spells. then i had the seizure and the glucose test and a simple diet change turned the whole pregnancy around. my blood pressure leveled out, as did my heart rate. the dizzy spells we all but gone. my mood seemed to even out as did my energy levels. the pregnancy itself, if isolated from all of the outside events of our lives this last month or so, has been absolutely amazing.<br />
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for the last 2 weeks i have complained about the discomfort (there's a lot!) but i have consistently said that i just want a little more time with him in my belly. not because i enjoy the feeling of being pregnant, but because i'm just not quite ready yet. a lot of that had to do with wanting to be sure we had internet set up before he came (i know that seems silly, but it's my easiest form of mass communication with everyone!). this week jp and i are both ill and that is my new reason for wanting some more time.<br />
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truth be told, i think what it really comes down to is this: may, june, and the first half of july were painful for us as a family. things were sort of falling apart at the seams. i felt as though i watched all of the dreams i've held on to for the last 3 years be stripped away from me, one by one. i turned into a monster, a person that i regret my husband having to live with and my child having to suffer through.<br />
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e will tell you it wasn't that bad. he's lying.<br />
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and then we had the "incident" and i went from being what i can only characterize as a royal bitch to nerve-wracked mess. <br />
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we have finally settled back into a peaceful, enjoyable routine. i feel creative again, and calm. i feel normal. jp has gone through a round of teething and now this cold, so he's been extra cuddly. i feel no need to change anything right now.<br />
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it's not that i don't want another baby, please don't misunderstand. i am so ready to welcome another sweet, precious boy into our lives, to join the leagues of extraordinary women surrounded by testosterone :) i'm curious to meet this little man and get to know him and his very distinct personality. i'm looking forward to pictures of all of "my boys" and watching jp with his little brother. i'm so looking forward to the bonding of breastfeeding again and the tender hold of a moby wrap. i can't wait to ogle over every developmental milestone.<br />
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but i can't lie: i'm enjoying every second of the life we have now with just the three of us. it's the love of this life that prompted us to have another child. we cherish being a family. i know my heart will swell and open wider than it is now and i will be even happier than i can imagine. but i'm in no rush for that expansion. it will come when it's supposed to, and no sooner. and i'm at peace with that. if it happens in the next few days i'll admittedly be upset- i don't want to be in labor with a cold!! but ultimately, this weekend or 3 weeks from now on my due date, it's really irrelevant to me. <br />
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which is good, because it's also not up to me!<br />
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what i've learned in this last trimester, amidst all the chaos, is that the best i can do is focus on my family in the here and now, giving them the best of myself daily and enjoying as much of them as possible before the sun sets. i will fail sometimes, but for the most part, this is a pretty easy goal. how could i want to give anything less than my best to people like this:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjs6RE8Nr-0_ITFoIM_QIDROAxcxfjGwOiAMEtuiNE8mHJ4o4sEBTMpH_dyVE7mn5czUYX8WmVX-B5934IjlY4MN7DWlrem5VBZPwvpgd5TBmvuLlaf8Q4lsQF0g_FNlahm4OY5ymMBwg/s1600/270167_179294142131990_100001542151139_502785_6486912_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjs6RE8Nr-0_ITFoIM_QIDROAxcxfjGwOiAMEtuiNE8mHJ4o4sEBTMpH_dyVE7mn5czUYX8WmVX-B5934IjlY4MN7DWlrem5VBZPwvpgd5TBmvuLlaf8Q4lsQF0g_FNlahm4OY5ymMBwg/s640/270167_179294142131990_100001542151139_502785_6486912_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153920979035460917.post-18652301152081524822011-07-28T14:57:00.000-07:002011-07-29T11:34:57.150-07:00Another One of those Hiatus Things...so, life got turned upside down. severely.<br />
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our house was broken into in the middle of the day on june 26. e was out of town at a training session and jp's godmother was visiting us. we had gone swimming and came back to find all of our valuable belongings piled up in our living room, some things stashed into one of our own duffle bags, and the master closet and dresser ransacked.<br />
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it was the 4th in a string of break ins that occurred in houses that all backed up to one area of woods. the woods, in our case, lined the side of our house, and they used the windows on that said of the house to escape. they had previously stolen gaming systems, a few other electronics, and most recently, guns.<br />
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we had, from what we could tell, interrupted them. their modus operandi appears to be that 3 of them break into a home, one keeps lookout while 2 pile everything into one place and then a vehicle comes for them to load into. we got home before the vehicle arrived and thus nothing was actually stolen from us.<br />
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except our sanity and sense of security. the knowledge that these people had broken into 4 homes that were all within .25 miles of each other, that it took police officers more than 15 minutes to respond to our 911 call, that no pictures, evidence, or notes were taken at our home by the police, that the perpetrators had stolen weapons a few days prior, that our house was chosen because of its attachment to the woods, and that they now knew everything e had worth stealing in our home added up to an irrefutable fact for me: we could no longer live there.<br />
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we checked into an extended stay hotel until e could come back home and began working out the possibility and logistics of moving. our landlord, sherry corona of remax prime realty in columbus, ga, was an unbelievable grace. she let us out of our lease and showed us another home that we could move into, one that she still managed and one that was miraculously VERY close to 7 other families in e's company. it was also a solid 10 minute shorter commute to work. we began moving in with the help of people we barely know on june 30.<br />
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we were moved in by july 4 and due to some difficulties and at&t's HORRIBLE customer service, we have been without internet until today.<br />
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the few times i've been able to haul a computer and my child to a place with wifi, the blog simply wasn't a priority!<br />
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so let's do a quick catch up- we have a new home. jp has been in speech therapy for a month and seems to be making some progress. he is still as happy and goofy as ever.<br />
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e is loving his job and his company and is looking at deploying some time between november and april. we shall see!<br />
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i am 37 weeks pregnant as of tomorrow and baby calvin is due any day now! we're ready and then.... well... not so ready haha! it's been an upheaval of a month and things are finally settling down. we'd like to enjoy the calm for a few more weeks if we can, but the baby certainly has a plan of his own :)<br />
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sorry this isn't longer or more explanatory, but i would like to cut my losses with the old house and move forward from here, so that's precisely what i intend to do with the blog as well :)the bulgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495632902639429566noreply@blogger.com2