April, May...

Um, oooops! I knew I'd neglected this blog but I didn't realized it'd been just over two months.  Whatever the hell?!  And now I only have a couple minutes left to write, because I spent my lunch break boiling some eggs, doing some laundry, and letting the dog outside twice.  Oh, and actually eating lunch. And taking care of some personal business.  And logging into this website, twice, because I'm working from home today and thus had the EHR program open in another window and whilst I was ignoring it (because I was on break) it timed out closed and took the whole internet browser out with it, as it does.  

So! That brings you about up to speed for the last 45 minutes or so. Heh.

I didn't read the last blog entry I wrote in here, I just skimmed the title -- Soggy Spring -- and already I can tell you there is a huge, lovely difference in my environment since then.  I remember this winter when I wrote about how I longed to see the green grass, and all these trees full of leaves.  Well, to quote that one chick from Poltergeist, "They're heeeeeere!"  It is SO beautiful!  We can't see the neighbors' houses anymore because there are so many leaves on the trees, and when the wind blows (which it is doing often and muchly today) it makes the most relaxing whoooooooshing sound, and I could honestly just sit and stare at the trees and the sky and watch the birds and occasional other wildlife all day.  

Which is pretty much what I did all weekend, but not at home; we went camping for the first and maybe only time this summer.  It was awesome! But I'm blogging in the lightning round right now so can't spend too much time on one topic, so I'll table the rest of that for now because I absolutely positively have to mention...

...the a-ha concert(s)!  I keep thinking that was the beginning of May, but no, that was back in the beginning of April already!  Insert sad face here.  I could write for hours about that trip!  My 3rd and 4th times seeing them in concert, my first trip to L.A., it was all in all a pretty overwhelming four days as well.  But definitely memorable and definitely over much too soon.  

And on that note, it's time to go back to adulting. Catch ya later.

Soggy Spring

Somewhere between winter and spring lies that little-known season that is the bane of the existences of pet owners and anyone who lives on any parcel of land where green space > asphalt: Mud Season.

That's where we are right now.  The calendar says it's spring, the sky says it's winter, and the ground is just mud.  Except where it's still snow.  But it's not really snow anymore, it's snow and mud mixed together.  People are already complaining of allergies, thinking that the trees are already releasing pollen or something.  Nope.  That's the mold mixed in with the mud that's in the snow banks that are melting.  

Spring is here, but still feels so far away.  We have patches in our yard with no snow, but the grass beneath is brown and yellow and dirty, and you don't have to walk through it to know it's just all muddy.  And if you do have to walk through it, you better wear your boots (or shoes that you don't mind getting muddy) and have good balance.  Seriously.  That stuff's worse'n ice.  I'd rather fall on ice than in mud.

The water hydrant at the boy's house is still frozen, so I had to wade through ankle-deep puddles of water and mud to water the horses last weekend, while my favorite chestnut mare stood at the gate and watched with bored amusement.  She's lucky I love her so much.  She's also lucky that my awesome hubby bought me these amazing boots last winter that are warm and waterproof, and I can literally walk through anything in them and my feet stay warm and dry!  So the fifty begillion trips I had to make back and forth from the end of the hose to the horses' water tank to top it off, one 5-gallon bucket at a time, wasn't horrible because my feet weren't wet and cold.  Anyhoo, I figure the hydrant will thaw in about June, as it usually does.  Hopefully the mud will be gone by then.

I was at my parents' house yesterday, and their yard has, like, no snow in it.  I almost want to complain about how not fair that is, but I don't want to imply that I'd rather have a small yard in the city with no snow instead of acreage in the country with snow.  :D  

Speaking of my parents, my Dad had his last PT session yesterday.  He says he's going to keep doing exercises now so he doesn't regress again, and my Mom says she's going to make sure he makes good on that promise.  She's been good about doing exercises, too.  She only had one official PT session after her hip replacement last November, and they said she was doing so well she didn't need to come back.  They gave her more exercises to do and basically said to call them if she thought she needed more work.  So she's been doing those, and the ones they've given my Dad to do, as well.  Anyway, I hope my Dad really does keep up with those exercises.  Now that I'm going over there more often, I'll have to nag him about remind him why it's important to keep doing them as well.

In other news...I don't know, I just realized I hadn't written in here for a while and since I had a little lunch break time to kill, I thought I'd sit down and write and see what I came up with.  Didn't have anything in particular in mind to write about today.  Suppose I should get back to work now.  The sooner I get back to work, the sooner I can finish for today! Because it's one of those rare days where it actually works that way!  Ha, ha, ha. TTYL

 

It's like raaaaaaain on your wedding day...

You know what's cruel?

Well, lots of things are cruel, but I'm referring to two specific things that are probably more along the lines of ironic than cruel.  "Cruel" sounds kind of harsh.  

I love trees.  For as long as I can remember, I've dreamed of living in the country, surrounded by trees.  They're just so beautiful and perfect!  I love them in the springtime when the new leaves start to bud, and I love them in the summer when they're full and gorgeous and provide all kinds of shade and green-ness everywhere, and I love them in the autumn when everyone else loves them, too, and I even love them in the winter because no matter how cold and snowy and icy it gets out there, they stand tall and ride out the storm until spring when they show signs of life again.  (Well, a lot of them do, anyway.)  There's a message in there for all of us, isn't there?  But, I digress; I love just being amongst the trees.  It's my favorite part of camping, and going Up North.  

The irony is that my hubby is allergic to trees.  So many trees.  He had allergy testing done last year, and there were so many different kinds of trees listed on his "reactive" report (or whatever it was called, I don't remember, that sounds pretty official tho).  The trees that I love so much are trying to suffocate my beloved soulmate.  It's not okay!

You know what else I love? Animals.  Mostly dogs and horses and okay I'll admit that I like cats, too.  I didn't grow up with cats.  Not that I didn't like them, but we were a Dog Household and never had cats.  I got my first cat, 7 (yes, his name was 7 -- no, I didn't name him), after I moved into my first apartment, because I couldn't have a dog.  I've had dogs all of my life, and probably hopefully always will.  I didn't grow up with horses, either.  I adopted Nic about, oh my gosh, 19 years ago?!? So maybe I did grow up with her, ha! ha!  Anyway...you get the point.  

The irony here is that my son is allergic to animals.  All of the animals.  He's never had allergy testing done, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the reason he starts wheezing and itching after he touches one of the pets is because he's allergic to them.  I used to blame the fact that we didn't have inside cats anymore on Luger, but it was really the boy's fault (kidding! Mostly.) Ok, I'm not kidding.  I can't have my baby boy mainlining diphenhydramine constantly.  The irony for him is that he likes cats.  But he can only pet them in the winter, when he's wearing gloves and a coat and a scarf...;)

Alright, that's all for now.  TTYL!

Back by popular demand!

Two different people yesterday, in two different locations and two completely different situations, commented to me (in person) that they enjoy reading my blog and I need to update more often. 

You love me! You really love me!  😁😁😁

Before I go getting a complex or something, I do want to thank you for reading this.  It blows my puny human mind that anyone would enjoy reading my rambling thoughts as much as I enjoy putting them into words.  Even if you are just reading to see if I'll slip up, forget that this is a public forum, and talk trash about you or someone you know.  (KIDDING!! Mostly.)

I feel like I haven't been home all week.  I had to work from the office four out of five days last week (GASP, I know, hashtag first world problems) and also had things to do after work four out of four of those days last week.  I don't usually do things after work, partially because I'm an introverted homebody who enjoys living in the middle of freaking nowhere.  Also, because I like sleep, and to get to work by 0730 I need to leave the house by 0630 at the very latest, so I need to get out of bed by 0545 at the very latest (if I'm going to take a shower) although I actually wake up much earlier than that because the hubby's alarm goes off stupid early, I think 0330 or so? And even though I do usually go back to sleep after his alarm goes off, it's rarely ever GOOD sleep.  Long story short, we go to bed early around here, as you might imagine one does when one has to wake up at stupid early every morning.  

I'm not whining. Just documenting. 

It's been a good kind of busy this week, though.  Tuesday I stopped at the boy's house after work to water the horses, but after I got all the hoses hooked up and everything, I discovered one of the hoses was still frozen. So I unhooked all the hoses (to paint this picture for you, the water hydrant is in the rubble of the old barn, and I need to use two hoses put together to reach the pasture where the horse water tanks are...I'm really bad with guestimating distances and I know hoses aren't standard units of measurement, but I think it's maybe like 500 feet or so? Plus or minus 400 feet?) and plugged the one in because luckily for me the one that was frozen is the one that has a built-in heater to keep it from freezing.  But I didn't get to the boy's house until after 6:30pm (because the downfall of working from work is that I never seem to be able to leave before 5pm anymore!) so I didn't get home until, well, the hubby was already in bed when I got home.   Then Wednesday, I went back to the boy's house again to water the horses for real (don't call the ASPCA, they had water already, I just wanted to top off the tank) but then I discovered the water hydrant was frozen. So I had to break out another hose, and with the boy's help, ran the THREE hoses from the spigot on the outside of the house as far as I could, which was about 50 feet away from where it needed to be.  Maybe more, IDK.  In case you don't have horses or outside animals that need to be watered in massive amounts of gallons at a time, the next solution is to haul buckets of water to the tank.  Which isn't so bad when the hose is almost to the tank.  It beats the hell out of hauling buckets from the house to the pasture, which is what I used to have to do when the hydrant froze in the winter! 

So, that took a while, and was messy because it was dark and I spilled some water on myself and it was cold, but I got to spend some time talking with the boy and petting Princess Daisy. For a few seconds, I even thought Bo had returned...I was by the horse barn petting Daisy (the cat) and I heard a loud "meow" coming from the garage, that sounded an awful lot like Bo.  I reflexively called his name, and the cat responded like Bo would have.  In the shadows, I could see a large possibly-Bo-sized cat walking out of the garage, ambling about as cats do. I kept calling his name and he kept ambling closer, and I was just taking my phone out of my pocket to call the boy and tell him to come outside and see who decided to grace us with his presence after being AWOL for about 3 months now, when the chonky boy stepped into the light and I could clearly see that it was NOT my Bocephus kitteh.  It was a very friendly orange tabby cat, who is obviously used to being outside and also seemed pretty familiar with our the boy's place, but it was definitely not Bo.  Sigh.  

Anyway, so by the time I was done with all that and putting everything away, the boy wanted to go to Culver's, and how can I say no to my precious darling son!?!  By the time I got home, the hubby was in bed. ;)

Thursday night, I went over to my parents' house after work, which I do about every other week or so, to take my mom shopping and have dinner with them.  They're doing pretty well.  Physically they're doing good, my Dad still gets in-home PT once a week for a few more weeks, but his strength and balance and mobility have improved greatly from before he was hospitalized last fall.  His dementia is, well, you know.  From what I can tell, his good days still far outweigh his bad days, and his bad days aren't drastic and extreme yet.  There was one day I was over there and he just kind of sat there looking empty the whole time, barely talking or interacting.  The next time I was there, he had the light in his eyes again and he was joking and talking and even said some things that surprised me (memory-wise -- remembering things I didn't think he'd remembered from the previous visit).  

So, yes, I've been busy, but it's a good busy.  But it's still busy and I'm still kind of wanting to be done with people for a while.  :D

Another reason I haven't written much lately is because a lot of what's on my mind isn't my story to share.  But since it's now up on CaringBridge, I will share some of it here.  On 2/22/22, one of my friends (technically he's married to one of my best friends, but I also consider him my friend and they're our friends as a couple, and as a family because our son and their oldest son are friends as well) had a stroke and ended up having emergency brain surgery that night.  I've been trying to make sense of it all, you know? Five years ago this same friend was in a bad car vs truck accident at work (he was driving the truck) and sustained a pretty bad leg injury, was unable to walk for a while, had hardware sticking out of his leg and everything.  A few years later, my friend (his wife) was diagnosed with inflammatory breast cancer and has since been through chemo, radiation, and surgery.  And now, this happened.  WTAF?!?!  Of course, I'm also trying to wrap my pretty little head around it, because obviously I know crap like this happens all the time.  I have some patients with stories that you wouldn't believe! But this doesn't happen to people I know.  Definitely not to people I'm friends with.  I want to fix everything, and I can't.  I want to explain everything, and I can't.  I want to assure them that everything will be alright and...I can't.

On that note, I'm signing off for now.  Thanks again for reading.  Be kind to those around you, because you have no idea what they might be going through.

I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, so gosh-darnit, why is this so freaking hard?!?

 

How does a person get confidence?

Why do so many other people have confidence, but I don't?

What is WRONG with me!?!?

Wait...don't answer that last one.

Hi! And welcome to another installation of Tash's Random Thoughts and Outpourings.  If I changed that to Random Outpourings and Thoughts, I could call it TROT, which is horse-related and therefore uber-cool.  Remember when "uber" was a wanna-be-cool way to say "super" and not a driving service?  Man oh man, I have a headache.  I hope it's not a tumor.  It's probably due to the weather change, and/or leftover from me trying to go all day yesterday without any caffeine.  I didn't intend to go without caffeine all day yesterday, but I was out of diet Dew at home and didn't have time to stop and get any before work. I was going to run up to Wal-Mart on my lunch break and get some, but due to minor schedule changes, that didn't happen, and I didn't feel like having coffee at work because I didn't have any creamer there (and I like my creamer with a little bit of coffee) and besides, ice water was suiting me just fine yesterday in the moment.  Work was keeping me busy enough that I could brush off the headache I was getting until after work when I was taking my mom shopping.  That's when I broke down and bought a 6-pack of diet Dew.  OK, I didn't "break down," I was going to buy one anyway.  Actually, my mom bought it for me, which was totally unnecessary but she insisted, and it was easier than arguing with her.  My point being, it'd been a long time since I went that long on so little caffeine, I was pleasantly surprised at how functional I was. I was chugging water all day to try to fend off the headache, but it still hit me, and I still have a headache now which may or may not be related.

I mean, it could be a tumor.  No offense at all to my friends who have actually had (or have) brain tumors.  I should know better than to make light of such a horrible condition.  On the other hand, I know that headaches can sometimes be a sign of something more sinister.  But it's probably just the weather changing. 

But back to my original question, which is inspired by the fact that I had my annual review this week. I always dread the annual review. I always have, since my very first job. It doesn't seem to get any easier, thank you, Anxiety.  I've been ruminating on why that could be, and why I have the particular faults I have.  Not just at work, but in life.  Because, let's face it, one thing I've never been known for is having a lot of self-confidence.

This never seemed to be an issue until the last 10-15 years or so.  I was always "just shy".  In my first semester of nursing school, in our first clinical rotation, our instructor told me I needed to be louder and more outspoken.  I could've died right then and there, yo.  Calling me out like that??  I'm just shy. It's just how I am. I can't fix it.  I don't like drawing attention to myself.  Maybe I'm not cut out to be a nurse.  

I have since come to understand what she was getting at, though.  It wasn't the first time, nor the last, that I was assured in not so many words that I had the knowledge and skills to do exactly what needed to be done, I just lacked the courage to actually do it.  Words that continue to haunt me to this day.

I don't understand it. It's not as though I was constantly belittled when I was growing up.  Au contraire, my parents were very supportive and encouraging.  My sister, not so much, but by the time I was old enough to understand that, I was also old enough to understand sibling rivalry so I tried not to let it get to me.  Maybe it did, anyway?  Your guess is as good as mine at this point.  

One can only ruminate on the past and speculate on these things for so long, though.  

Also, one can only put off finishing a blog entry for so long.  For example, I wrote all of the above last Thursday, and here it is Monday, and I'm trying to remember where I was going with that last sentence.  I hate it when that happens! 

Anywho, even though I don't recall which path I was trying to take to get there, my point was to be that I am hereby officially working on ways to boost my own confidence.  The word "affirmation" keeps running through my mind, so I'm starting there.  Telling myself all the time that I can do the thing.  It sounds so basic, doesn't it?  But this is what depression and anxiety can do to a person.  It's always in the background, telling me I can't do the thing, or I shouldn't do the thing, or if I do the thing incorrectly I'll mess everything else up, or it would be much better if someone else did the thing because they're better at it than me.  I h8 you, Depression and Anxiety.  You suck.  Would you please just leave me alone, for the rest of my life?  Can I break up with Depression and Anxiety?  I never asked them to invade my life, anyway.  Are there any tests out there yet that can localize where exactly in my brain these ideas are coming from so someone can go in and zap them out and I can be a normal person again who doesn't have to psych herself up to do things that normal people just do without even thinking about it because that's just what it's like to be normal?  

Go, me. Identifying the problem is half the solution. Or so I hear.

Feb-Roo-Airy!

...is obviously NOT when this photo was taken! But oh, how I need to see the green grass, and leaves on the trees that have been stark raving bare naked since seemingly forever (or at least as long as we've lived here).  Don't get me wrong, there's still a beauty and a certain peacefulness and calm in the winter woods, where everything is literally black and white and cold and deserted, and all the magic that is hidden away under the shadows of summer is exposed for all the world to see.  The trees are plentiful enough out here that, even sans foliage, they make an impressive barrier between you and whatever is on the other side.  But it's a wall of sticks.  Nothing can hide there.  The silence is as deafening as the air is frigid.  I long to hear the sound of leaves rustling in the warm summer breeze.  I want to be able to stand out there and immerse myself in nature and forget that there's even such a thing as "inside".  All the animal tracks we can see in the snow now just reinforce the idea that those woods, the woods like the ones in the photo above, will be alive and teeming with life in a few short months, rather than standing around desolate and barren and full of potential and/or promise. 

Yep. Gotta love living in the upper Midwest.  I know I've stated this before, but Spring Fever is hitting me particularly hard this winter, and while I don't want to wish time away faster than it needs to go, I do wish spring and summer would hurry up and get here. And then stick around for a while.

In case you haven't seen my FB recently, my latest enamoration is deer in our yard.  This has further led me to all kinds of conflicted feelings.  I'm an animal lover, but not one of those super die-hard animal lovers who is completely and totally against, say, hunting.  I'm not a hunter, but I'm not against other people hunting.  If my hubby, who is (or should I say has been) a hunter, wants to shoot one of those deer in our backyard (legally, in season), theoretically I don't mind.  It's a hunter's perfect scenario, isn't it?  Getting a deer right off your own deck?  I mean, if I could fish from my back step, I totally would, but it doesn't work that way.  I know there's a deer overpopulation problem around here. I know they cause a lot of damage because of that, especially when they get out on the highway and people hit them with their cars, and such.  There are deer in the city, for crying out loud.  There shouldn't be deer in the city.  They should all be out here, in the wilderness, living their little wilderness critter lives.  

But then I see them and their little wilderness critter selves in my backyard, which is all covered in snow, scrounging around for something to eat, and I imagine what it would be like to be a hunter and to pull up my rifle and shoot one of those beautiful, innocent animals that is doing absolutely nothing wrong but trying not to starve to death in the middle of a world that has been taken over by selfless humans... and I can't do it.  I can't pull the imaginary trigger.  It's just a creature trying to survive out there, just like the rest of us.  

My parents always said I'd've made a horrible farm girl.  It's true!  I have nothing against eating meat.  As long as I didn't know it first.  :)  True story -- once upon a time, I went with the hubby when he went deer hunting.  Mostly just to have a weekend away, as I had no intention of joining him in the woods or trying to take down Bambi's dad.  Well, as (my) luck would have it, my hubby got himself a deer that weekend. And we didn't have a trailer with us, just our good ol' trusty Chevy Venture minivan.  So that dead deer rode home from Up North in the back of the minivan.  Well, mostly in the back of the minivan...her head was basically intruding upon the front space (on the floor -- hubby, in his wisdom, had removed the back 2 rows of seats, so picture Bambi's mom laying on the floor...well, on a sled on the floor of the minivan with the back 2 rows of seats removed) with her big, brown eyes looking at me the whole time.

The moral of the story is that I could not eat that deer.  I never saw her alive, but riding home with her body in the back of my minivan was close enough.  Believe me, I wanted to! I want to like venison.  I wanted to enjoy the meat that my hubby had provided for our little family.  But I couldn't.  I just kept seeing those big, brown eyes, staring up at my from the back of my minivan.  I think I tried a bite or two but couldn't do more than that.

But, wait! There's more.  There was the year we raised chickens!  We started out with a couple as pets, and that went well, so we got a bunch of chicks one year with the sole purpose of growing them up to eat them.  Oddly enough, it was easy to NOT get attached to them. Most of them.  ;)  Chickens are fun to watch, and to have around (they eat bugs and rodents and weeds) but they can also be disgusting (they also eat each other if the opportunity arises) and sometimes not friendly.  And they poop all over if they're free-range, which ours were.  I felt no love lost when it came time to butcher them. In fact, I was glad, because they were getting too big for their little legs and it kind of disgusted me that they were even bred that way.  

But, you know what? I still couldn't eat them.  Again, I really wanted to, because chicken is one of the meats I generally love, but I could not eat a single bite of our own chickens.  Even worse, I couldn't eat any of the eggs from the layers, either.  That part really made me mad, because I love me some eggs, and having that many at our disposal was like winning the lottery.  But, nope.  As soon as I cracked one open, my appetite went right out the door.  

I know what you're wondering now.  Do I eat the fish that we catch?  The answer is No, I don't.  But that's because I'm allergic to fish.  I don't know if I would be able to eat them if I were not allergic.  I used to when I was a kid, so maybe?  

And here ends another chapter of Things You Didn't Know You Wanted To Know About Me.  Thanks for reading!

Almost 2 months

I heard on the news the other morning that winter is officially half over!  That's all they said, or at least all I heard, so I don't know* if they meant meteorological winter (which runs from December 1 through the end of February) or astronomical winter (which runs from around December 22 to around March 21).  I'm pretty sure they didn't mean Midwest winter, which runs from November, sometimes October, rarely as late as December, until at least the beginning of April but sometimes into May.  

*And I don't feel like doing the math to figure it out.  Since the meteorologist was the one talking about it, my money would be on meteorological winter, but I'm not in a betting mood today.

Nevertheless, it was nice to hear the words "winter" and "over" in the same sentence from voices other than the ones in my head, for a change.  😆

It's hard to believe that we've lived here almost two months already.  It definitely feels more like home every day.  I think we have all the light switches figured out (ha, ha), at least on the main floor!  I was keeping up with unpacking totes at first, but I finally conceded and now there are some totes out in the garage waiting to be unpacked.  Mostly because I haven't decided how to display the ashtray collection yet.  

Yes, we have an ashtray collection.  No, we don't smoke.  Well, we've been known to enjoy the occasional cigar or flavored cigarillo every now and then, although that hasn't even happened for a few years.  I used to smoke in my late teens/early 20's, but quit when I got pregnant with the boy.  No, the ashtray collection doesn't stem from a smoking habit, it stems from an interest in collecting odd, affordable things.  Hence why I want to find a way to display them, not just keep them in totes in the garage.  There are some really cool pieces in there!  I think one of my favorites is the ashtray that was *ahem* once in a pediatrician's office.  It actually has indentations of baby's feet at different ages.  I can just imagine new moms sitting around in the pediatrician's waiting room with their babies, smoking to pass the time, and comparing their baby's feet to the ones on the ashtray, right before ashing in it.

I know I suck at describing things, so I found a picture of a very similar ashtray on the Googles.  This is not the actual one we own, as far as I know, but it could be.  It's not my picture, though.  The ashtray in question looks just like this: 

See? Craziness!!  It was made (or at least distributed by) Similac.  That is NOT meant to be any kind of slam against formula-makers.  I'm not one of those moms.  My baby was a formula baby and a breastfed baby.  I just think it's funny.  Or brilliant.  Similac knew their target audience with this one.

So, yeah.  Two months.  And I'm tired of seeing everything covered in snow.  Although I do have to say, I have been kicking ass at keeping the house clean!  This is generally not one of my strong points.  I used to joke that I was born without the housekeeping gene.  Have I written about this here before? I feel like I have.  Either way, get this: we were out of laundry detergent for a couple of days last week, and the growing pile of dirty clothes spilling out of the hamper and on to the floor around it was actually disturbing me.  I could feel it in my bones, and grating on my last nerve, and I hated it!  I was so relieved when we finally got more detergent so I could catch up on laundry.  This is so unlike me, at least unlike the me I used to be.  If something like that bothered me before, I just ignored it.  WHO AM I!?!?!  I don't know either, but I like me a lot better now that I have in a really, really long time!

Trust me, I've been doing a lot of self-analysis into why that could be.  I have some theories, but nothing I want to share yet.  Especially not right now, considering my break is over and I have to get back to work. 

Toodles!

No changes are permanent, but change is.

 

You know how when you have a newborn, and everyone tells you to cherish those moments because time flies thereafter?  Holy hannah.  I mean, this is certainly NOT the first time I've had this particular epiphany, but there's a milestone tomorrow that I'm having trouble wrapping my little brain around.  

*ahem*

Twenty-four years ago today, I had my very last prenatal appointment. Ever.  I was 38 weeks and 6 days pregnant. I relive this in my mind every year, and I'm not even going to apologize for re(x24)-hashing the story.  People who were never told they wouldn't be able to have children, or people who have never suffered pregnancy losses, or people who don't blog or like to otherwise document their thoughts may not understand (or they might, IDK).  It's my story, and I'll tell it again if I want to, tell it again if I want to, tell it again if I want to...(I'm not stuck on repeat, that's a random song reference. Just to clarify.)

But don't worry, I don't feel like getting super-introspective this year.  I'll just point out that today was the day I had my last appointment, but I didn't think it was my last appointment when it started.  I still remember the surreal feeling when, after spending about 15 minutes trying to relax so they could re-take my blood pressure (I don't recall that it was definitely 15 minutes; I'm going by what I know now that I didn't know then.), my OB (the guy -- I think his name was Scott? I don't remember his last name. Maybe Carlson? There were three different providers at that practice, one man and two women, and I'd seen all three of them but I think I saw him the most...) said all non-chalantly, "Why don't you come to the hospital tomorrow morning and we'll have a baby?"  

I remember trying to argue that the reason my blood pressure was elevated was because my in-laws were visiting from out of state and I was stressed out because of that (no real reason other than I'm an anxiety-riddled introvert and had only been married just over a year at that point; having my in-laws visit now certainly would NOT stress me out!) but he wouldn't hear it.  I was told that my blood pressure was elevated (and, I'm almost sure, questioned for any other signs of pre-eclampsia) and the solution was to be induced the next morning, which would be exactly one week before my actual due date.  

And so signaled the start of the next phase of our lives.  Well, the signals had been there for quite a while, of course.  You could say this particular signal started the day I decided to take a home pregnancy test some months prior after having spent a few days ill miserable with what I had convinced myself was a stress-related ulcer and having it suddenly dawn on me that my period was late.  Or a few days later when a blood test at the doctor confirmed those test results (because I never took just one home pregnancy test; I took several. To get an average).  

I guess one reason I dwell on this day is because it was the last day we were just a couple and not a family.  Re-reading that, it almost sounds selfish, which is not my intent.  Ok, maybe it's a little of my intent, lol.  I know it's the boy's birthday and I have no desire to take away from his celebrations, but it was also the day I physically brought a new life into the world, which is an amazing feat that not everyone gets to experience at all.  We had only been married for 16 months when the boy was born, but we'd been living together for about 2 years by then, and had been dating even longer than that, and some other time I'll write a blog about our history together but suffice it to say that we had spent a significant time of our pre-parenthood late-teenaged and young adult lives together, yet now when I look back it seems like the boy was always there.  Like I can't remember what it was like NOT being his mom.  

Alright, I have to get back to work.  Later, gators!

It's waaaaaaay too early for Cabin Fever.

It's only the first week of January, and I'm already tired of the snow and cold, and ready for spring.  I'm ready for green grass and flowers and fresh air that doesn't freeze my nose hairs.  I'm ready for snow-free roads and I'm ready to have a vehicle that doesn't have any salt on it, or under it.  I'm ready for the sun to stay up later.

Go ahead, laugh. I deserve it.  As you may have gathered by today's title, I know it's much too early to feel this way.  We're barely into the new year, I've got at least 4 months before any of that is happening.  

So, we're getting the house settled pretty well.  Just today, we brought over what I believe is the last of the things we had at the old house.  Our new couch is being delivered this week.  I've been slowly putting the Christmas decorations away (except the lights, I can't take those down yet) and re-decorating for "the rest of the year".  That's one good thing about moving right before Christmas -- you can put Christmas decorations up wherever you want them if you unpack them before everything else!  

Hold the applause.  We still have the two barns' worth of stuff, including the F-mobile, the riding lawn mower, the hubby's woodworking stuff, and my horse stuff that actually survived the flood, as well as the camper and the Big Green Egg and the patio set from the back deck and misc other outdoor decorations and at least two non-running vehicles (3 or 4 if you count the dune buggies, oh wait, there's a dune buggy body in the old cow barn, too...) to bring over.  And two horses.  

I think that's part of what's fueling my fever (whether it's cabin fever or spring fever, which have always been the same thing in my mind but apparently are not): I've been having fun setting up and decorating the inside of our new place, but I want to get the outside set up, too!  I miss having my horses in the backyard.  Our deck is bare (except for the snow all over it) and the cute little patio on the back of the house looks so empty.  I was able to get a couple of things out there before the snow fell, but not much.  

Sigh.

Remember how I was just getting over COVID when my parents both ended up in the hospital and I had to switch my life's focus from me to them for a while?  I feel like I'm picking right back up where I left off on October 31 or so...in other words, run down, tired, and trying to recover.  That's not helped by the fact that I have a crappy head cold right now, but in these new and unprecedented times there is no such thing as "just a cold" anymore, so I'm under quarantine right now until the COVID test I took yesterday comes back.  There's a meme that goes around the nursing groups on FB that says something along the lines of how a voluntary 72-hour hold sounds like a nice, relaxing little get-away, and I can definitely relate to that right now.  Nothing to do but lay in bed and have someone bring me my meals and ask me every hour whether I'm feeling alright.  Can I 72-hour-hold myself at home?  Can I say that I have multiple personalities, and the responsible nurse personality can take care of the personality that needs rest and relaxation for a bit?  

For the first time, I've really been missing those 32-hour workweeks I had when I worked at the hospital.  Working four days and having three days off would be a nice gig to have again!  Not enough to go back to shift work and working holidays and weekends, but...it would be nice.  I've even thought about asking if I can work four 10-hour days instead of five 8-hour days (which are typically not just 8 hours...) but I haven't yet.  IDK if it would even make a difference in the job I'm in now, I think it would just turn into me trying to fit 5 days' worth of work into 4 days.  

Anyway, all this talk about how worn out I feel is making me sleepy.  Go figure.  I'm going to sign off and crochet some mittens or something.  TTFN!!

 

One.

All weekend I've had the song "One is the Loneliest Number" playing in the back of my head.  (Because of something someone said at Bible Study on Saturday morning that made that line come to mind.)  So when I was looking for a pic to go with today's blog entry, I started by Googling images related to that song.  I didn't come up with anything that spoke to me, but thinking of "One is the Loneliest Number" led to me thinking about "One" by Metallica.  And that is what inspired today's pic: the video for "One" by Metallica, which also has clips from the 1979 American anti-war movie called "Johnny Got His Gun," adapted from the 1939 book of the same name.

I've read the book.  I don't think I've seen the movie, though.  I remember finding the book at a flea market in the early 90's, and so I probably paid like 25 cents for it.  Of course, I'd never heard of it until the Metallica video came out, but so what?!  It was a good book.  It is a good book.  

My point? Don't be frightened by today's pic.  We were watching The Twilight Zone all weekend so I'm in a very "insert Twilight Zone theme music" mood. 

And also, get a load of the "PPE" of the medical personnel in the above pic.  I'd presume they are portraying physicians, but I can't say for certain.  The more things change, the more they stay the same. 

ANYWAY...remember last year when the whole "internal monologue" thing was big, or should I say, the acknowledgement of an "internal monologue" was big?  I do, because I never could conclude whether I had one or not.  And mind you, this is based on random tests that were posted on FB, so, highly scientific and reliable.  I remember one that went something like, When you see the word "apple", does an image pop into your head?  And my answer was...no.  It doesn't.  When I see or hear the word "apple", the word "apple" pops into my head.  Not an image but the word itself.  

Maybe I'm confusing "internal monologue" with something else. Something that I can't find the words for right now.  Because I remember other questions along the lines of whether or not a person envisions like an internal movie or something like that when reading.  You know, like if you read the sentence, "The man ate the apple," do you actually picture a man eating an apple?  Because I kind of don't.  I don't know.  I know the words, and I know what they all mean, and I understand them all put together in a sentence like that.  But I don't get a movie playing in my head when I read something.  I mostly just get words.  Maybe that's why my reading retention is horrible at times. 

It's not like I can't get an internal movie going, though.  I just have to either read things really slowly, or re-read them several times to get that effect.  

But, is anyone else distracted by spelling out words in their heads, or is it just me?  I've been this way for as long as I can remember.  I'll involuntarily pick out a certain word from something I've seen or heard, and ruminate on that word.  It's like my mind is playing with it and won't let it go.  Spell it forward, spell it backward, put all the letters in alphabetical order, count the number of letters and if it comes to an odd number, add letters to it to make it an even number.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  

So! I get to have my first COVID test of the year tomorrow morning.  All weekend I've been feeling kinda crappy, with a headache and a sore throat and achy body and such.  But then, it got super cold out and I've been doing things I don't normally do, as well.  (Get your mind out of the gutter; I'm talking about painting the bathroom.  Which involved more standing on ladders and stretching into odd positions than I remembered from the last time I painted a room.)  Plus, it's winter.  Who doesn't get a cold in the winter?!  It's only a matter of time.  But now, thanks to COVID, there's no such thing as "probably just a cold" anymore.  

Oh, well.

On that note, I'm going to sign off.  If I have COVID again, I'm going to...IDK...I want to say I'll be mad, but I don't know who I'd be mad at.  Cry is probably a better answer.  Yes: if I get another positive COVID test tomorrow, I will most certainly cry.  

That is all.