I woke up in a daze, I got out of bed the way people get into a pool of really cold water, one little bitty bit at a time (except for you nutty people who just jump right in). First I made sure my eyes were open, I did that for awhile. Then I turned on the TV, to mtv/vh1, and propped my head up on the pillow, approx. 7 minutes. Then I propped my back up against the head board, another 7 minutes, then I sat up, legs criss cross style (that is what they are calling it now, right?) in the center of the bed, another 7 minutes, then I looked at the clock, thought "oh sh*t!", and tossed one leg over board, so the whole body would have to follow. My Husband talked during all of this (couldn't hear the lyrics), but it didn't bother me today, and we were together till 12 and he talked plenty. But he wasn't giving me all this attitude and tone, and he was telling me more what he thought, rather than just doing a rebroadcast of what he had heard on Fox and talk radio. Plus he talked about silly stuff sometimes, and was funny about serious stuff others, so it worked out.
I remember when he first started listening to talk radio, it was when Howard Stern went to serious. And my husband needed some way to entertain himself on the way to work (why can't he just listen to music and daydream, like I do?). It drove me nuts. He would call me from his car to tell me what he had just heard, brimming with all this tone, and in your face attitude towards liberals, et cetera. Same thing would happen at night. I'm so tired I am just slipping into bed, and this rant is going on, like little bombs exploding all around me. I feel like I am being yelled at. I try to deactivate them/him. But on and on, it goes, and when I finally just start saying enough I can't take it anymore, he gets all upset, "you are so mean". I told him to get a newspaper column if he feels the need to rant on and on. (He can get a blog and type type type away, more power to ya baby). But he wouldn't stop, oh the sarcasm, I felt like a was wading through rivers of this gloppy dark stuff, it was slow going, and it was wearing me down, there was no pure air left for me to breath, he sucked it all in, and then poured it back out again, tainted and heavy, something that filled my lungs with weight. I started getting worried, it started to feel like a deal breaker, I didn't want to go and on like this. I didn't think I could.
This wasn't the man I had married, all this politics, and news, and so much attitude, derivative attitude, you're all so stupid ha ha. But I kept thinking about it, and asking myself quesitons, what is really happening here? what is really upsetting me? why does he seem so different to me? And I realized, he was/is growing (not necessarily in a way I would have picked, but) he is finding out who he is, what he is about, he is exploring the world, and interested in it, in different ways than he was when we were young. Don't I like to explore, to be free to find other aspects of myself, and other interests, and how would I feel if he wasn't open to me, finding new paths for myself in this world, physical ones, and ones of thought? And so more open to respecting his journey, I listened to him more, and realized something, most of what he was saying didn't bother me, it wasn't his opinions or ideas that I couldn't stand, it was the delivery, the attitude. And now that I have told him that a few thousand times, most of the time he is much better, he tells me the story, but without the mocking tone. I have been forced to listen to talk radio with him in the car, and it isn't so bad, because it does have humor to it, and like I said it isn't the ideas I had a problem with. I think most people want the same things, for themselves, and for others, it is just a difference of how we/they think that would best be accomplished.
My Husband does have some views that I find troubling, but we don't have to agree on everything, he is him, and I am me, and that is fine. And it is not at all a deal breaker. My journey partner and I, have both a joint journey, and our individual ones.
I do wish he wouldn't be so inclined to tell me things he has heard verbatim. I mean if I wanted to watch that news program, or listen to that talk radio show, or read that book, I would, I don't because I don't want to, so he really doesn't need to rebroadcast it, in its entirety for me; just pick out some highlights, tell me some funny parts, give me the general idea, fine.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
What the heck is wrong with me?
Why am I so unfriendly? Sometimes I like it when the phone rings, but often, not so much. I just had a fit because it rang, and I had to go answer it, and earlier today, not fully taking into account that my son was home from school, when the phone rang, I said, "who the heck can be calling? Whoever you are, I don't want to talk to you!". And then remembering myself, and my son, I said gently " I mean, whoever can it be? I'll get it". That time it was for my son, just now it was the husband (who always makes me run around the house during primetime, to try and answer the stupid phone, and then he says "I'm on my way home", and that is it, if I try to talk he says he has to go, drives me nuts. To some degree in my defense, our downstairs phone doesn't work right, the caller ID is currently unreadable, and when you push the button to answer it, 8 times out of 10 it wont pick up, so then I have to run upstairs to see who it is, and answer the phone. (once last week, I completely lost my mind, and picked up the phone automatically when it rang, and realized too late what I had done, (oh my God, what did you just do?) and was so apprehensive as I realized I had no idea who was on the other end of the line, turns out it was someone who didn't speak english, he kept asking me something (in spanish, I think), and I kept saying " I don't think so", it was a nice verbal loop, round and round, until finally we both hung up.) And if I bring the upstairs phone downstairs then I have to run downstairs whenever the phone rings, when I am upstairs. I hate the downstairs phone, when there is a message on it, it beeps until you get up, push the flashing button and listen to it, this is a special feature, one we can not figure out how to deactivate, one that makes me want to smash the phone.
But really, I should be happy when people call. What if no one ever called? Surely that would be horrible. Maybe it is because most calls we get aren't social, they are sales, and I don't know which is which till I check the caller ID. Even so I do have to concede that I am not very friendly, just this morning Husband was talking, talking, talking, repeating talk radio, while I was getting up and getting ready, and it was bothering me, (I like quiet first thing, I like to collect myself, or to listen to music), so as he was hanging around me in the bathroom, I looked straight at him, walked over to the toilet, and pulled my pants down and sat down (thinking ha that will teach him, he'll run for the hills), nothing, no break in his verbal flow whatsoever, (I think my jaw dropped into my lap, my reaction to his lack of reaction), so I had to just sit there and wait for him to finish talking and leave ( I had further entrapped myself with my attempt at escape), because really I prefer to pee alone. (so I guess it was like a stand off, or a staring contest, and I flinched first, I lost, he called my bluff, and I had to sit there and hear about Iran)
But really, I should be happy when people call. What if no one ever called? Surely that would be horrible. Maybe it is because most calls we get aren't social, they are sales, and I don't know which is which till I check the caller ID. Even so I do have to concede that I am not very friendly, just this morning Husband was talking, talking, talking, repeating talk radio, while I was getting up and getting ready, and it was bothering me, (I like quiet first thing, I like to collect myself, or to listen to music), so as he was hanging around me in the bathroom, I looked straight at him, walked over to the toilet, and pulled my pants down and sat down (thinking ha that will teach him, he'll run for the hills), nothing, no break in his verbal flow whatsoever, (I think my jaw dropped into my lap, my reaction to his lack of reaction), so I had to just sit there and wait for him to finish talking and leave ( I had further entrapped myself with my attempt at escape), because really I prefer to pee alone. (so I guess it was like a stand off, or a staring contest, and I flinched first, I lost, he called my bluff, and I had to sit there and hear about Iran)
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
so St. Patricks Day
Let's see if I can write this fast.
I found some prank ideas online, familyfun was good, and even the stuff that wasn't for me helped wake my mind up and give me other ideas.
Ugh, I was so tired that night, and the Husband and Son were watching a movie on TV downstairs. At 10 I was desperately trying to get him to get to bed, by 10:30 in bed, so I just had to wait for him to fall asleep. By 11, I was downstairs setting stuff up. The cat was following me around, meowing, and meowing. So I asked the DH for some help with cat. H- "what can I do?" M- "anything". Everything took longer than I thought it would, it always does. DH "what are you doing? You're nuts". I asked him to help me make the fake man, just to cut out the posterboard for the news paper, and glue it on. H "you don't need to do all this" M- "no, but I am. Will you please help me?". He did once I had rounded up everything, scissors and all and handed it to him. I had just finished downstairs a little after 1am and was about to go upstairs when Son woke up, heard him scurry down hall. I waited a few, went upstairs to check on him. When I went in his room, his eyes were open wide like someone in shock or terror; I think maybe he was worried it was a leprachaun opening his door. ( I did the mom stuff, got him more water, put his covers on him, told him to go to sleep, patted him, he is not a kissy huggy child). I'm like "Okay so now what? It is late, I am so tired, and he is wide awake", so I went to lie in bed for about a half an hour, while I waited for him to fall back to sleep (oh bed, so near and yet so far from it). And when I got back up, whenever I walked past his room, he would roll over, so, I had to scrap stuff (I was going to do in his room), and come up with other ideas. As I was doing them I was lamenting this whole idea, what a stupid way to spends one's time, like smacking one's head against a wall for entertainment, why why why.
At 6:30 am a crashing noise, and a gleeful child runs into my room (actually it was 5:30 am as I had turned the seven clocks in the house all ahead an hour) "Mom, Mom. They came! They came! And guess what, two cups of confetti just dumped all over me and the bathroom floor...and..and..." He chittered away and hopped around like a small bird. He wanted to go downstairs, but I said lets wait till 9. I always say this holiday mornings, at 6:30 as it feels my head has just hit the pillow, I don't know why I say it though, as all that happens is I spend an hour or two, being woken up every 10 to fifteen minutes, as my Son comes in and out of the room, begging us to get up, or telling us about something. When we did get up, he gave us the pranking grand tour. At some point he stopped to wash his hands, when he turned the sink on, the water squirted out all over him and the kitchen floor, Me- "turn it off, turn it off", Him- giggling hysterically; when this happened, my surprise was as great as his, having completely forgotten I had set this up. Most of the pranks aren't really pranks, they are just cute sort of things; like the battle of his toys, over a glitter Leprachaun hat, with little plastic policeman and cars, setting up a barracade to protect it (I wonder if he will ever lift up the hat and find the little green teddybear under it?). The rubber duckies floating in the table fountain, with numbers on the bottom, with sign-every one a winner, try your luck with a duck, (and silly prizes). Standard fare, plastic, and rubber insects in cereal boxes, bathtubs, et cetera. The big spider balanced unseen atop the milk carton, worked well. Fake foods, and fake spilled food. My Husband, actually really liked the fake man in the chair in the living room. It took my son forever to find the pot of gold, hidden in a planter, with a false top, and actual dirt on top, with rainbow painted mushrooms as the clue. The big SpongeBob on the toilet with the St. Pattys day green hat on, bathroom door closed, went over well with him, It was supposed to be upstairs, but I was afraid, my son might use the bathroom in the night, and not see before he'd pee. I should have had him with a wade of toilet paper in his hand, stretching out the roll, though. I do fake toothpaste, squeeze it into his tube every year, green, and my son never ever tries it, which disappoints me, as it is icing. And I always put something in his sneaker, gooey shoey (gello), last year it was a gross soft rubber chicken, and this year, I went simple, I did Tic Tacs ( just because of Tic Tac Toe, but no one of course got that). He had his dad call the number left by Mr. Lyon, on the message, the Philadelphia zoo of course (my son watches a cartoon where a kid with the last name Lyon gets sent to an animal school, so I knew he would like this one). I was disappointed it had snowed, I wanted to crazy glue coins to the driveway, and instead, had to just glue them on the paper message from Mr. Lyon (I am sure however that my DH is happy about that). Two pranks had to wait till Monday, and getting ready for school to be found, the candy fish in the hair gel ( I should have used rubber ones, as they "duh me, dummy" were half disolved), and the green smiley face (permanent marker) on his deoderant. I made sure he saw it ( I put it on him or he doesn't wear it, and believe me you, he needs to wear it), but it would have worked as a prank too, because it did leave green streaks on his underarms. And they didn't figure it out, about the clocks, that night, still clueless, so I told my son it was time to go to bed, and we argued about it, he said no because of what was on TV, so I showed him my clock, he said "so your clock is wrong" so I took him all over the house and showed him every clock, he was unfazed, "well I guess you never set them right for daylight savings". AARrrhhhh! I said "yes I did, all last week we weren't off on our time. Did you get to school an hour early everyday? No, you didn't". Finally the next day, he conceded that maybe it had been a prank. Yes it was, one on me apparently.
Anyway, my son wouldn't let me take any of the pranks down till both of his good friends had been over to see them, the one just came over this past Sunday, and I saw my son walking around with Spongbob's green hat on, while giving the tour, and I thought, well you know what, it was worth it. He did actually enjoy it, and appreciate it, which is a heck of a lot more than I can say about most of the stuff I do for him.
seriously? 12:35? I guess I didn't write that fast after-all. It is now or never for the mill.
I am so pleased the snow has melted away, I don't need to see it again till 08.
" Woman, go work out, or clean, or do real writing, no more meandering on paper." "oh alright". The sun is back. "go!"
I found some prank ideas online, familyfun was good, and even the stuff that wasn't for me helped wake my mind up and give me other ideas.
Ugh, I was so tired that night, and the Husband and Son were watching a movie on TV downstairs. At 10 I was desperately trying to get him to get to bed, by 10:30 in bed, so I just had to wait for him to fall asleep. By 11, I was downstairs setting stuff up. The cat was following me around, meowing, and meowing. So I asked the DH for some help with cat. H- "what can I do?" M- "anything". Everything took longer than I thought it would, it always does. DH "what are you doing? You're nuts". I asked him to help me make the fake man, just to cut out the posterboard for the news paper, and glue it on. H "you don't need to do all this" M- "no, but I am. Will you please help me?". He did once I had rounded up everything, scissors and all and handed it to him. I had just finished downstairs a little after 1am and was about to go upstairs when Son woke up, heard him scurry down hall. I waited a few, went upstairs to check on him. When I went in his room, his eyes were open wide like someone in shock or terror; I think maybe he was worried it was a leprachaun opening his door. ( I did the mom stuff, got him more water, put his covers on him, told him to go to sleep, patted him, he is not a kissy huggy child). I'm like "Okay so now what? It is late, I am so tired, and he is wide awake", so I went to lie in bed for about a half an hour, while I waited for him to fall back to sleep (oh bed, so near and yet so far from it). And when I got back up, whenever I walked past his room, he would roll over, so, I had to scrap stuff (I was going to do in his room), and come up with other ideas. As I was doing them I was lamenting this whole idea, what a stupid way to spends one's time, like smacking one's head against a wall for entertainment, why why why.
At 6:30 am a crashing noise, and a gleeful child runs into my room (actually it was 5:30 am as I had turned the seven clocks in the house all ahead an hour) "Mom, Mom. They came! They came! And guess what, two cups of confetti just dumped all over me and the bathroom floor...and..and..." He chittered away and hopped around like a small bird. He wanted to go downstairs, but I said lets wait till 9. I always say this holiday mornings, at 6:30 as it feels my head has just hit the pillow, I don't know why I say it though, as all that happens is I spend an hour or two, being woken up every 10 to fifteen minutes, as my Son comes in and out of the room, begging us to get up, or telling us about something. When we did get up, he gave us the pranking grand tour. At some point he stopped to wash his hands, when he turned the sink on, the water squirted out all over him and the kitchen floor, Me- "turn it off, turn it off", Him- giggling hysterically; when this happened, my surprise was as great as his, having completely forgotten I had set this up. Most of the pranks aren't really pranks, they are just cute sort of things; like the battle of his toys, over a glitter Leprachaun hat, with little plastic policeman and cars, setting up a barracade to protect it (I wonder if he will ever lift up the hat and find the little green teddybear under it?). The rubber duckies floating in the table fountain, with numbers on the bottom, with sign-every one a winner, try your luck with a duck, (and silly prizes). Standard fare, plastic, and rubber insects in cereal boxes, bathtubs, et cetera. The big spider balanced unseen atop the milk carton, worked well. Fake foods, and fake spilled food. My Husband, actually really liked the fake man in the chair in the living room. It took my son forever to find the pot of gold, hidden in a planter, with a false top, and actual dirt on top, with rainbow painted mushrooms as the clue. The big SpongeBob on the toilet with the St. Pattys day green hat on, bathroom door closed, went over well with him, It was supposed to be upstairs, but I was afraid, my son might use the bathroom in the night, and not see before he'd pee. I should have had him with a wade of toilet paper in his hand, stretching out the roll, though. I do fake toothpaste, squeeze it into his tube every year, green, and my son never ever tries it, which disappoints me, as it is icing. And I always put something in his sneaker, gooey shoey (gello), last year it was a gross soft rubber chicken, and this year, I went simple, I did Tic Tacs ( just because of Tic Tac Toe, but no one of course got that). He had his dad call the number left by Mr. Lyon, on the message, the Philadelphia zoo of course (my son watches a cartoon where a kid with the last name Lyon gets sent to an animal school, so I knew he would like this one). I was disappointed it had snowed, I wanted to crazy glue coins to the driveway, and instead, had to just glue them on the paper message from Mr. Lyon (I am sure however that my DH is happy about that). Two pranks had to wait till Monday, and getting ready for school to be found, the candy fish in the hair gel ( I should have used rubber ones, as they "duh me, dummy" were half disolved), and the green smiley face (permanent marker) on his deoderant. I made sure he saw it ( I put it on him or he doesn't wear it, and believe me you, he needs to wear it), but it would have worked as a prank too, because it did leave green streaks on his underarms. And they didn't figure it out, about the clocks, that night, still clueless, so I told my son it was time to go to bed, and we argued about it, he said no because of what was on TV, so I showed him my clock, he said "so your clock is wrong" so I took him all over the house and showed him every clock, he was unfazed, "well I guess you never set them right for daylight savings". AARrrhhhh! I said "yes I did, all last week we weren't off on our time. Did you get to school an hour early everyday? No, you didn't". Finally the next day, he conceded that maybe it had been a prank. Yes it was, one on me apparently.
Anyway, my son wouldn't let me take any of the pranks down till both of his good friends had been over to see them, the one just came over this past Sunday, and I saw my son walking around with Spongbob's green hat on, while giving the tour, and I thought, well you know what, it was worth it. He did actually enjoy it, and appreciate it, which is a heck of a lot more than I can say about most of the stuff I do for him.
seriously? 12:35? I guess I didn't write that fast after-all. It is now or never for the mill.
I am so pleased the snow has melted away, I don't need to see it again till 08.
" Woman, go work out, or clean, or do real writing, no more meandering on paper." "oh alright". The sun is back. "go!"
it is so beautiful outside
I wish it would just stay like this from now on. I feel like buying roses and digging holes and planting things ( See myself like Mikiyoshi, pouring buckets of seeds into the ground). But of course it is too early for that. Birds are everywhere. I opened all the windows. The sound of birds. The sights and sounds driving the cat crazy in a happy sort of way. I'm excited. I can't decide what to do with myself. I should dust and vacuum ( and certainly that is on the list, just nowhere near the top of it).
My Husband, who has off from work today, has already lectured me for not being a giving person, as I showed no interest whatsoever in making him breakfast. I told him I didn't believe in it, unless it is fruit (and for some people stuff like cereal, or oatmeal, or yogurt), and that I would gladly get him some strawberries. (I do make the child eggs on occasion as per his begging, very rarely I will make pancakes or french toast, my eggs are good, but the french toast and pancakes used to be horrible, so I had to improve them, they now taste good, but are not anything anyone should actually be eating. The son says "hey, these taste like cookies") I told my Husband that I never have misled him, I never pretended to be different then I am; I wasn't all running around doing stuff for him when were dating; I've always been like this. "Yes", he said, "but you would be a lot happier if you would take care of me". Me- "really?" Him "Yes, because I would be happier, and that would make you happier". I put my bowl of strawberries down, and looked over at him lying on the sofa, cat on his lap, watching Regis and kelly with me, waiting for his friend to call about going skateboarding, and said "you look happy enough to me". Him -"yeah, but I could be happier." (yeah, well couldn't we all). He is gone now, went to Philly for the day, skateboarding. Ooh, the sun just went in (or rather clouds are between us). He feels guilty for going. I didn't say anything. But I know he does because he said goodbye to me and I love you, at least 5 times (he is coming back, right?). One of these times I did say, "hey, you look nice. Are you sure you aren't going on a date?" (new dark green t-shirt, pale tan khaki pants, and green vans). Which freaked him out a bit. And he kept asking if I thought he was too dressed up for skateboarding. Me- "No". He came back upstairs and changed his pants, before saying goodbye to me several more times, and actually leaving.
Well as it is overcast now, I suppose I will go exercise, I will just do the mill, though I am sure it would be emotionally better to walk outside. The scale was playing its trick on me again today. About once a month I will get on the scale and will see whatever is considered to me my current, wish it was, working toward, target weight. And I will be like yeah! Woohoo! And then the voice in my head will say "Tiffany don't be silly, you know you don't actually weigh that" "I don't?" "No. Get back on the scale" and then I do and I will weigh at least a pound and half more, sometimes 3 or 4 pounds more. "oh". " Bummer". Today it was the pound and a half. It was so sad to gain a pound and half in one second. To see a good number, and then "ha ha, Not!". I can't figure out why this happens, I mean I'm not holding on to anything, or leaning on something, or anything that would make it logical that it would be less. My conclusion is that the universe is playing with me, in a silly sort of way.
Anyway I've got stuff to do
My Husband, who has off from work today, has already lectured me for not being a giving person, as I showed no interest whatsoever in making him breakfast. I told him I didn't believe in it, unless it is fruit (and for some people stuff like cereal, or oatmeal, or yogurt), and that I would gladly get him some strawberries. (I do make the child eggs on occasion as per his begging, very rarely I will make pancakes or french toast, my eggs are good, but the french toast and pancakes used to be horrible, so I had to improve them, they now taste good, but are not anything anyone should actually be eating. The son says "hey, these taste like cookies") I told my Husband that I never have misled him, I never pretended to be different then I am; I wasn't all running around doing stuff for him when were dating; I've always been like this. "Yes", he said, "but you would be a lot happier if you would take care of me". Me- "really?" Him "Yes, because I would be happier, and that would make you happier". I put my bowl of strawberries down, and looked over at him lying on the sofa, cat on his lap, watching Regis and kelly with me, waiting for his friend to call about going skateboarding, and said "you look happy enough to me". Him -"yeah, but I could be happier." (yeah, well couldn't we all). He is gone now, went to Philly for the day, skateboarding. Ooh, the sun just went in (or rather clouds are between us). He feels guilty for going. I didn't say anything. But I know he does because he said goodbye to me and I love you, at least 5 times (he is coming back, right?). One of these times I did say, "hey, you look nice. Are you sure you aren't going on a date?" (new dark green t-shirt, pale tan khaki pants, and green vans). Which freaked him out a bit. And he kept asking if I thought he was too dressed up for skateboarding. Me- "No". He came back upstairs and changed his pants, before saying goodbye to me several more times, and actually leaving.
Well as it is overcast now, I suppose I will go exercise, I will just do the mill, though I am sure it would be emotionally better to walk outside. The scale was playing its trick on me again today. About once a month I will get on the scale and will see whatever is considered to me my current, wish it was, working toward, target weight. And I will be like yeah! Woohoo! And then the voice in my head will say "Tiffany don't be silly, you know you don't actually weigh that" "I don't?" "No. Get back on the scale" and then I do and I will weigh at least a pound and half more, sometimes 3 or 4 pounds more. "oh". " Bummer". Today it was the pound and a half. It was so sad to gain a pound and half in one second. To see a good number, and then "ha ha, Not!". I can't figure out why this happens, I mean I'm not holding on to anything, or leaning on something, or anything that would make it logical that it would be less. My conclusion is that the universe is playing with me, in a silly sort of way.
Anyway I've got stuff to do
Monday, March 26, 2007
I do not talk about Anderson Cooper a lot!!
The other day, brushing my son's hair, for some reason we are talking about height, and I say, it is unlikely you will be taller than 5'10, and he says "You mean I wont be taller than Anderson Cooper?". First there is this look of shock on my face, which clearly delights my son, then I say "No, you wont be taller than Anderson Cooper. How do you know the appoximate height of Anders?". Son- "Because you talk about him all the time". No, I don't.
At grocery store, son picks up container of peanut butter pretzels "Look mom, Anderson brand". (with a sort of tilt to his voice)
Son- "Why haven't you played video games lately?". Me- "I don't know, I don't feel like it.". Son- "I bet you would if there was some Anderson virtual reality game.". Well, maybe.
Husband last night, says "There should be a cold survivor, none of this tropical island stuff". I say "no way that would be too harsh" (I shiver just thining about it). H-"There should be a celebrity survivor, or a broadcasting one, and Anderson should be on it". Me "Maybe, he would have to be off work for a month". (yes, I would totally watch that. Not a surreal version, a real survivor)
There are many other examples of my family talking about Anders.
My point here is this, I think they are the ones who are always talking about Anderson. The Husand was the one who brought up and was talking about Anderson's height, not me. (I'm 5'3 and a half, as long as he is at least 5'4, it's good. I like to look up to a man, but I don't care how far. And anyway it is totally irrelevant) Yes, it is true I go on an Anderson blog (just 1), and okay, I go on it just about everyday, but I usually do this while son is at school. And yes I do watch 360 most weeknights, after son is in bed. But I don't walk around talking about Anderson. What would I say? I think the boy must not be asleep at night, and must hear my husband and I talking, while 360 is on. There is often a struggle for the remote control, as husband wants to watch fox, and wants to change channels frequently, I want to watch 360 and want husband to be quiet, but if he will watch, he will talk. He will talk about Anderson, and he will talk about the shows content. I think it is the Husband who talks about Anders in front of our son, during the day, Husband has been known to do Anderson impersonations (they are quite funny).
So really it is them. They bring him up, not me. But sadly that doesn't totally get me off the hook, because then I have to ask myself why. Why do they keep bringing up Anderson? Husband brings him up, at times to make fun of him, and to make sure I am clear on what Mr. Cooper's gender preferences are (Me- yeah, maybe, so). Both Husband and Son will bring him up to tease me. Since I do not walk around talking about Anderson to them, why would they walk around talking about Anderson to me? Because they know it is a good way to get my attention.
Which makes me feel bad, for like a nanosecond. I mean, bad mom and wife, not paying enough attention to family, that they must go out of their way to pick an obvious topic of her interest, to engage her. Then I find myself recalling how they go on and on and on and on and on, about politics (talk radio), and video games, and cartoons (both of them), in great detail, no matter how nicely (the first 100 times) or rudely (the times thereafter) I ask them to please stop, and how, they never listen to a word I say, so much so, that I really don't talk to them much anymore, certainly not about Anderson, and not about much of anything, unless I know it is a subject of interest to them. ( and still I am amazed at the number of times I have to turn off the sink while doing the dishes (or walk back down the stairs just after I had walked up them to go to bed) to hear what Husband is saying to me, and then when I respond, he doesn't say anything, and I say it again, and again, and then he says "what?". And I realize that even though he picked the topic, and I am responding to something he said, he has gone back to watching TV and isn't listening to me at all). So, really, I don't think I will feel bad, finally they are evolving, finally learning to pick a topic of interest to another person in an attempt to engage that person in conversation.
And I thought this day would never come.
At grocery store, son picks up container of peanut butter pretzels "Look mom, Anderson brand". (with a sort of tilt to his voice)
Son- "Why haven't you played video games lately?". Me- "I don't know, I don't feel like it.". Son- "I bet you would if there was some Anderson virtual reality game.". Well, maybe.
Husband last night, says "There should be a cold survivor, none of this tropical island stuff". I say "no way that would be too harsh" (I shiver just thining about it). H-"There should be a celebrity survivor, or a broadcasting one, and Anderson should be on it". Me "Maybe, he would have to be off work for a month". (yes, I would totally watch that. Not a surreal version, a real survivor)
There are many other examples of my family talking about Anders.
My point here is this, I think they are the ones who are always talking about Anderson. The Husand was the one who brought up and was talking about Anderson's height, not me. (I'm 5'3 and a half, as long as he is at least 5'4, it's good. I like to look up to a man, but I don't care how far. And anyway it is totally irrelevant) Yes, it is true I go on an Anderson blog (just 1), and okay, I go on it just about everyday, but I usually do this while son is at school. And yes I do watch 360 most weeknights, after son is in bed. But I don't walk around talking about Anderson. What would I say? I think the boy must not be asleep at night, and must hear my husband and I talking, while 360 is on. There is often a struggle for the remote control, as husband wants to watch fox, and wants to change channels frequently, I want to watch 360 and want husband to be quiet, but if he will watch, he will talk. He will talk about Anderson, and he will talk about the shows content. I think it is the Husband who talks about Anders in front of our son, during the day, Husband has been known to do Anderson impersonations (they are quite funny).
So really it is them. They bring him up, not me. But sadly that doesn't totally get me off the hook, because then I have to ask myself why. Why do they keep bringing up Anderson? Husband brings him up, at times to make fun of him, and to make sure I am clear on what Mr. Cooper's gender preferences are (Me- yeah, maybe, so). Both Husband and Son will bring him up to tease me. Since I do not walk around talking about Anderson to them, why would they walk around talking about Anderson to me? Because they know it is a good way to get my attention.
Which makes me feel bad, for like a nanosecond. I mean, bad mom and wife, not paying enough attention to family, that they must go out of their way to pick an obvious topic of her interest, to engage her. Then I find myself recalling how they go on and on and on and on and on, about politics (talk radio), and video games, and cartoons (both of them), in great detail, no matter how nicely (the first 100 times) or rudely (the times thereafter) I ask them to please stop, and how, they never listen to a word I say, so much so, that I really don't talk to them much anymore, certainly not about Anderson, and not about much of anything, unless I know it is a subject of interest to them. ( and still I am amazed at the number of times I have to turn off the sink while doing the dishes (or walk back down the stairs just after I had walked up them to go to bed) to hear what Husband is saying to me, and then when I respond, he doesn't say anything, and I say it again, and again, and then he says "what?". And I realize that even though he picked the topic, and I am responding to something he said, he has gone back to watching TV and isn't listening to me at all). So, really, I don't think I will feel bad, finally they are evolving, finally learning to pick a topic of interest to another person in an attempt to engage that person in conversation.
And I thought this day would never come.
whatever (more stupid boring food talk)
During week, washing dishes, Husband keeps saying "come here, look at this", stuff on TV, I come over, it is Bobby Flay, "Look at that steak. Doesn't it look great? He has a restaurant in..". "That's nice" I say "but why should I be interested unless I might at some point actually get to eat the food. Why point it out to me unless we are going to go". And I went back to the dishes, then he says "Hey I could call up my friend in NY and we could go together". Me- "You mean without me?" He- "yeah", me-"why would you say all that and then say you are going to go without me?". He "why would I take you? You would just be miserable, first I would have to get you on the bus, I don't like buses, then drag you around the city all day, where's the bathroom? Then you wouldn't like the food and it would be expensive and, my stomach the stabbing pain in my stomach! You wouldn't have a good time.". Rude, rude man. I reiterate, why mention it to me, if he isn't going to take me.
Saturday I actually did some research, it was almost accidental, I was looking up other stuff online, and decided to look up Douc Langurs when I was done, just so I wouldn't feel so bad about spending my time in pointless ways. I found useful information, two pieces that I really needed (hadn't found when intentionally researching topic), and also a different way to approach the scene. So I am happy about that.
Saturday, got in a bit of a fight with Husband over food. Strawberries. I asked if he had any $ ,said I wanted to go buy strawberries, he said "no" (no money and you don't need them). I said the pineapple wasn't going over well, and I thought the strawberries would be better. He said I should stop babying my stomach, and toughen up. I said I needed a base, he said, eat yogurt, or toast. I said yogurt sounded awful, and that I can't eat bread first thing, it hurts. Then we went back and forth a bit about what was and what wasn't a base for one's stomach. He then said I should cut up bananas into really small mushy pieces like someone would for a baby, or why not just eat baby food. Then a minute later, he said "oh, will you make me something and pack it up for lunch?". Yeah I thought, how about some mushy bananas, and a side of baby food on toast. But I did do it, made him a real lunch.
Sunday, I was getting depressed about food. In the past month, I have eaten, about 11 avocados (two bags of chips, not keeping track of sour cream on purpose, I'm currently on fourth bunch of cilantro, ditto basil). At least 6 containers of the salsa (I am on my third gorcery store that carries it, the other two are now out), 6 jars of that pasta sauce, 4 or 5 boxes of Pav Bhaji, and different kinds of veg, et cetera, (as well as attempts at eating this and that, which I tend to regret later). In the past 7 days, I have eaten 4 or 5 of these spinach feta sandwich pocket Amy's things. I am getting tired of this stuff, but I don't want anything else either. Yesterday there wasn't anything I wanted to eat. I ate half a package of soy ginger carrots, mixed in asparagus, it was pretty good, but then nothing was of interest. I am a person who likes food, I look forward to eating. What the H is going on? Last week I got just one of this and one of that, at Wegman's asian bar, I liked one thing (the squash in this yellow curry), I didn't like any of the fried chicken stuff. I feel like I've been taken over by aliens, who the heck is this? Where am I? I hated the oreo, didn't like the nutter butter, the healtier version of cookies are kind of wierd but I prefer their taste to the junky ones. A lot of stuff is yuck, and the rest is eh..it's okay, I can eat it. Why aren't things appealing?
Today, for breakfast, I had strawberries, oddly I didn't like them, they were too hard and not sweet, and I had to take little bites or I felt like I would gag ( I cut them up, I added sugar, I tried to make them mushy. I trudged through them. I mean, what a horrible thing to say and feel about strawberries). For Linner, or Dunch I had an avocado, sour cream, container of mango peach salsa, lots of cilantro, some tortilla corn chips (that went well,which was good, since I couldn't tolerate eating it on Sunday, but still it isn't a healthy choice),then half a cup of leftover ginger carrot stuff. For dessert I had half a large "healthy" oatmeal cookie (wasn't of interest), and ate the chocolate chips out of three little cookies (which is wrong I know, but hey, they are my cookies). Oh and I had some pineapple tidbits (4 maybe), which is just the same as eating pure sugar I am sure (they were alright). The majority of my calories are coming from fat. (with a side of sugar)
I bought different kinds of Indian foods ( I know that I like the paneer okay, the others, who knows), and some frozen Amy's and Cedar lane things, I'm just not very motivated to make or eat them, but I will try and make myself do it tomorrow, as I should find some other things I want to eat, chips and guacamole are not meant to be staples. I would like to go to Red Robins, I like to get the 5 alarm burger there and have them substitute tuna steak for the burger. This is something I used to eat, and enjoy, I am hoping it will be like a magical reset, and I will go back to the way I was. I would force the issue, or just go and get it myself, but... What if I don't like it? What if I can't eat it? I don't see how I wont be depressed if that is what happens.
I mean the thing is, that rude man is right, I would be a pain in the a** to drag all over the city, and maybe I wouldn't be able to eat the food, but right now is rather a sucky time to be pointing that out to me.
The husband did say yesterday that I should buy frozen strawberries, so I wouldn't have to worry about running out of them. I am glad that he has decided not to continue to give me a bad time about it, but I hope I can find something else to eat for breakfast. Something that I enjoy.
My Dad thinks I should go to a doctor since this does seem to be affecting my life. I don't think anything is wrong, and hate tests; I keep waiting to wake up one day, and be like, normal again; I still expect that to happen, it's just a question of when. I would be concerned if I was losing weight, well after I lost 10 pounds I would be concerned if I lost more weight, but I have only lost a couple of pounds and I think that was from excercising, and anyway I needed to lose that weight. Actually I need to lose 5 more pounds. Sort of a bummer to not be having fun with food, and to not be down with weight, but I must be eating calorically dense foods.
Saturday I actually did some research, it was almost accidental, I was looking up other stuff online, and decided to look up Douc Langurs when I was done, just so I wouldn't feel so bad about spending my time in pointless ways. I found useful information, two pieces that I really needed (hadn't found when intentionally researching topic), and also a different way to approach the scene. So I am happy about that.
Saturday, got in a bit of a fight with Husband over food. Strawberries. I asked if he had any $ ,said I wanted to go buy strawberries, he said "no" (no money and you don't need them). I said the pineapple wasn't going over well, and I thought the strawberries would be better. He said I should stop babying my stomach, and toughen up. I said I needed a base, he said, eat yogurt, or toast. I said yogurt sounded awful, and that I can't eat bread first thing, it hurts. Then we went back and forth a bit about what was and what wasn't a base for one's stomach. He then said I should cut up bananas into really small mushy pieces like someone would for a baby, or why not just eat baby food. Then a minute later, he said "oh, will you make me something and pack it up for lunch?". Yeah I thought, how about some mushy bananas, and a side of baby food on toast. But I did do it, made him a real lunch.
Sunday, I was getting depressed about food. In the past month, I have eaten, about 11 avocados (two bags of chips, not keeping track of sour cream on purpose, I'm currently on fourth bunch of cilantro, ditto basil). At least 6 containers of the salsa (I am on my third gorcery store that carries it, the other two are now out), 6 jars of that pasta sauce, 4 or 5 boxes of Pav Bhaji, and different kinds of veg, et cetera, (as well as attempts at eating this and that, which I tend to regret later). In the past 7 days, I have eaten 4 or 5 of these spinach feta sandwich pocket Amy's things. I am getting tired of this stuff, but I don't want anything else either. Yesterday there wasn't anything I wanted to eat. I ate half a package of soy ginger carrots, mixed in asparagus, it was pretty good, but then nothing was of interest. I am a person who likes food, I look forward to eating. What the H is going on? Last week I got just one of this and one of that, at Wegman's asian bar, I liked one thing (the squash in this yellow curry), I didn't like any of the fried chicken stuff. I feel like I've been taken over by aliens, who the heck is this? Where am I? I hated the oreo, didn't like the nutter butter, the healtier version of cookies are kind of wierd but I prefer their taste to the junky ones. A lot of stuff is yuck, and the rest is eh..it's okay, I can eat it. Why aren't things appealing?
Today, for breakfast, I had strawberries, oddly I didn't like them, they were too hard and not sweet, and I had to take little bites or I felt like I would gag ( I cut them up, I added sugar, I tried to make them mushy. I trudged through them. I mean, what a horrible thing to say and feel about strawberries). For Linner, or Dunch I had an avocado, sour cream, container of mango peach salsa, lots of cilantro, some tortilla corn chips (that went well,which was good, since I couldn't tolerate eating it on Sunday, but still it isn't a healthy choice),then half a cup of leftover ginger carrot stuff. For dessert I had half a large "healthy" oatmeal cookie (wasn't of interest), and ate the chocolate chips out of three little cookies (which is wrong I know, but hey, they are my cookies). Oh and I had some pineapple tidbits (4 maybe), which is just the same as eating pure sugar I am sure (they were alright). The majority of my calories are coming from fat. (with a side of sugar)
I bought different kinds of Indian foods ( I know that I like the paneer okay, the others, who knows), and some frozen Amy's and Cedar lane things, I'm just not very motivated to make or eat them, but I will try and make myself do it tomorrow, as I should find some other things I want to eat, chips and guacamole are not meant to be staples. I would like to go to Red Robins, I like to get the 5 alarm burger there and have them substitute tuna steak for the burger. This is something I used to eat, and enjoy, I am hoping it will be like a magical reset, and I will go back to the way I was. I would force the issue, or just go and get it myself, but... What if I don't like it? What if I can't eat it? I don't see how I wont be depressed if that is what happens.
I mean the thing is, that rude man is right, I would be a pain in the a** to drag all over the city, and maybe I wouldn't be able to eat the food, but right now is rather a sucky time to be pointing that out to me.
The husband did say yesterday that I should buy frozen strawberries, so I wouldn't have to worry about running out of them. I am glad that he has decided not to continue to give me a bad time about it, but I hope I can find something else to eat for breakfast. Something that I enjoy.
My Dad thinks I should go to a doctor since this does seem to be affecting my life. I don't think anything is wrong, and hate tests; I keep waiting to wake up one day, and be like, normal again; I still expect that to happen, it's just a question of when. I would be concerned if I was losing weight, well after I lost 10 pounds I would be concerned if I lost more weight, but I have only lost a couple of pounds and I think that was from excercising, and anyway I needed to lose that weight. Actually I need to lose 5 more pounds. Sort of a bummer to not be having fun with food, and to not be down with weight, but I must be eating calorically dense foods.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
P.S.
oh and I am very upset with myself over my writing, with my lack of it. Intelletually I know what I want to do, that I need to do it, but there is no emotion behind it, no energy, no drive, and I haven't been forcing myself to just sit in the chair and write. I am hardly even writing snipets of stuff randomly in my notebook to type in later. It is just gone. I feel empty. I know I love this story and it's characters, I remember that, but I am not feeling. I need a new strategy for kicking myself in the butt, and making me do it. I mean I can't have just given up, this can't be it, unfinished. Incomplete. Ugh. I gotta go, time just keeps getting away from me.
well I meant to write about
how St. Patricks day went, I did yesterday but then my internet connection just stopped, and I couldn't publish it. And today, well today I just sent my Aunt a birthday email, only it turned out to be a sympathy letter instead. Easter is coming, we always had it at my aunt's house, only they moved this year, and then in December her daughter died. I feel sick now, to my stomach and my head hurts, I pretty much like to stick to denial over the whole thing. So I don't feel like writing about pranks right now. I guess I will exercise, and do my best to think about nothing of any real meaning, or at least nothing upsetting.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
St. Patrick's Day = stress
Our Family has these extra traditions, that tend to stress me out, the odd part is I am the one who came up with them. St. Patrick's Day is coming, and I am not prepared. For what? Well in first grade my son heard a story about leprechauns pranking you if you don't put something on your front door, a shamrock maybe (fuzzy fuzzy brain wont tell me), and I said cool so we will get one and put it on our door, and my son was like "no way, I want to be pranked". So every year since then he wakes up to a house full of pranks, and a hidden pot full of fake gold coins and chocolate coins, hidden somewhere near something that serves as a rainbow. Last year, we were to be away on vacation during it, so I said well it couldn't happen, and my son was like "well then I am not going, there are only so many times a year anything good happens at this house and I am not missing one of them!". ( I couldn't decide whether to be pleased that he enjoyed these holidays, or to feel totally dissed about how substandard he felt the general home thing to be). Ugh. What to do, what to do? How could I prank the house while not here, could I rush back into the house after we packed the car and do it, so he would return to a pranked house? In the end I decided to prank the hotel we would be at, so I bought all kinds of cheesy fake stuff, hid it in the car, took it with us, and crawled around on the floor (of the one room and bath) place we stayed at (other people's dirt germophobe me), at 1:30 am to set up these pranks. (Husband did not find all the marbles on floor next to his bed, at all funny). So now here it is another year, and I got nothing, and I mean, I can't do repeats. Can I? Can I please do repeats!! I am not a prank person, I do not like april fools day, and the husband is no help at all. Me, I am, every magical creature, or being that makes things happen in this house, he is the person who watches TV and then goes to bed.
This summer for Christmas in July, I got caught. Why the heck did I ever start this one? A daydream I had, that I had a boyfriend whose mother did this (I was younger in the daydream than I am in real life, hey that is why it is called fantasy), you would wake up in the morning on July 25th and the house would be cold (air conditioning), there would be a set of new christmas themed pj's at the bottom of your bed, you would put them on, and go downstairs, and the whole house would be decorated like christmas, tree (smaller one), tinsel, lights, christmas music, christmas specials on tv, windows covered in that fake frost so you can't see the lush greenery of July, hot chocolate, sugar cookies, and some little wrapped gifts. I thought it would be fun so I did it. (I now do a more breakfast like menu and have given up getting up at the crack of dawn to put hot cocoa on, and stuff in the oven). Well that was all well and good when he was younger, though I must say that child never ever ever has gone to bed at a decent hour. Now that he is older, it is even harder, first the siamese cat follows me around while I try to set everything up, and meows, and meows and meows, then he runs around and trys to get at whatever I am doing (yeah he is only 12 pounds, but he sounds like cattle stampeding). Long story short, this summer, my son at about 3 in the morning comes downstairs, I wasn't done, I hid in the shadows around the corner of a hallway, and he walked around and around, and around, said"huh", went upstairs ( I didn't move), went into my room, came down and walked around some more. He went upstairs but didn't go to bed, lights are on, he is waiting. Ugh!!! So, I take some clothes out of dryer, and carry them upstairs, "oh hi, I say, you shouldn't be up", "where were you?" "Oh I just remembered I had forgotten the wash, I didn't want it to get wrinkled, and went down to get it" ("then why didn't I see you?". Ugh damn it! "I don't know, I was there"). He still didn't go to sleep, he wandered around, and talked, and talked to me, we discussed how it seemed that "they" (we have theories as to who they could be, such as elves who got sick of the North Pole cold and moved somewhere warm, Florida maybe, but missed their work, so they bring stuff (but only to some very special boys and girls, in summer. And another one involving other magical beings jealous of Santa so they are trying to encroach on his territory. Or a prank meant to confuse us as to the real time of year) had sort of come, but hadn't finished. And I couldn't finish setting stuff up, it was disappointing. And with my guilt I blamed him, "you know magic like that, can't happen while you are watching. I am sure they got startled away, and wouldn't come back to finish" to which he reminded me that I had been up walking around too.
I don't know, you would think, it would all be over now, no way he could buy it anymore, well if so, he is admitting nothing. I imagine if he knows, now, he is shocked, for he would think me to lazy to have been doing this stuff all these years. And has often remarked that the elves do a better job of decorating for Christmas in July, than I do decorating for Christmas. ( he did walk up and down the stairs this Christmas too, but we had wised up, one big gift from Santa, and then little gifts from us in different wrapping paper. He caught me with these but that was ok. I told him I thought we (his parents) should start getting him stuff too, because as kids get older and older they eventually get less stuff from Santa, because the gifts get more expensive, and you know there are a lot more kids in the world now, and it used to be simpler stuff like wooden trucks and dolls, but now it is Xbox, and Wii, and also grown-ups don't get gifts from Santa, but they do get gifts from their parents, and relatives (in honor of Christmas. Which is about the spirit of giving, and love. I can honor God and have Santa too.)
it is weird as parents, the wanting the child to still believe, and the feeling that they are old enough not to. I don't ever remember believing (the tip-off, I never got what I asked for, what I really wanted. One year, I asked for a toy horse pulling a cart/carriage, and I got a plastic mule pulling a wagon in some mining themed type of thing. Santa would never do such a thing to a 5 or 6 year old girl, it wasn't a revelation though, I had known). I still loved it all. The stories. The myths. The culture that hands this down from one generation to the next, as a gift to believe in magical things. I don't think of it as a lie at all, rather a reminder. When the world was newer, each sunrise was magic, the world was vast and unknown, and what wasn't understood, was filled with awe, and given meanings, sometimes wonderful and sometimes horrible. I still think the world is that way, vast, greatly unknown, filled with things we don't understand, with great beauty to fill us with awe, and things both so wonderful and so horrible, that we try to fill them with meanings, or say it is all devoid of meanings. But it feels like many people think it is known, because of what we do know, and because we understand, seasons, days, the tilting, turning, planet going round the sun. I don't know the more I learn, the more amazed I am. I don't know maybe I am just too stupid to be scientific, but it is all magical to me, meaning mysterious and enchanting (the how it happens doesn't explain the why). I have no interest in slight of hand, or tricks, but seeing the magic in the natural. And people's minds, and ideas, and creating stuff, that is magic. A myth, or an idea, passed down like this, something beautiful in it, the spirit of the idea (which is a good spirit), goes on and on, someone to give gifts, to bring joy. I suppose in some ways it is like a game, we all play, together. And I am grateful that I have gotten to play such a wonderful game, both as child, and as a parent.
back to how we observe them-
The Easter thing ( the greatness of spring) (I love Easter), involves hidden eggs (of course) with some special plastic ones, with riddles inside, you have to figure out to find gifts hidden in the house (lots of bad rhyme involved there, and special handwritting). Of course there is chocolate!
Halloween is the easiest one, with the great pumpkin (it is the one I came up with first, obviously from Charlie Brown). You wake up the day after Halloween night, and if you are a kid, there is a gift inside your pumpkin. This evolved because no one was helping me, in any way, do the pumpkin carving, and the great pumpkin will not leave you a gift inside your pumpkin if he can't because it isn't a jack-o-lantern. (now why he would want you to masacre them I can't say, my reasoning is, it is more about embracing the pumpkin part of the holiday). My Husband hated this one, the first time I did it, thought it would mess our kid up in the head, and all the other kids would make fun of him. In 05 it didn't happen, no one carved, but last year, he was determined to get the Great Pumpkin to come. My DH can stick a sock in it.
which brings us back to-
I have to figure something out, for Saturday, and my mind, is blank. My son loves this game we play together, and so do I (as soon as I can figure out what the heck I am going to do for this holdiay).
This summer for Christmas in July, I got caught. Why the heck did I ever start this one? A daydream I had, that I had a boyfriend whose mother did this (I was younger in the daydream than I am in real life, hey that is why it is called fantasy), you would wake up in the morning on July 25th and the house would be cold (air conditioning), there would be a set of new christmas themed pj's at the bottom of your bed, you would put them on, and go downstairs, and the whole house would be decorated like christmas, tree (smaller one), tinsel, lights, christmas music, christmas specials on tv, windows covered in that fake frost so you can't see the lush greenery of July, hot chocolate, sugar cookies, and some little wrapped gifts. I thought it would be fun so I did it. (I now do a more breakfast like menu and have given up getting up at the crack of dawn to put hot cocoa on, and stuff in the oven). Well that was all well and good when he was younger, though I must say that child never ever ever has gone to bed at a decent hour. Now that he is older, it is even harder, first the siamese cat follows me around while I try to set everything up, and meows, and meows and meows, then he runs around and trys to get at whatever I am doing (yeah he is only 12 pounds, but he sounds like cattle stampeding). Long story short, this summer, my son at about 3 in the morning comes downstairs, I wasn't done, I hid in the shadows around the corner of a hallway, and he walked around and around, and around, said"huh", went upstairs ( I didn't move), went into my room, came down and walked around some more. He went upstairs but didn't go to bed, lights are on, he is waiting. Ugh!!! So, I take some clothes out of dryer, and carry them upstairs, "oh hi, I say, you shouldn't be up", "where were you?" "Oh I just remembered I had forgotten the wash, I didn't want it to get wrinkled, and went down to get it" ("then why didn't I see you?". Ugh damn it! "I don't know, I was there"). He still didn't go to sleep, he wandered around, and talked, and talked to me, we discussed how it seemed that "they" (we have theories as to who they could be, such as elves who got sick of the North Pole cold and moved somewhere warm, Florida maybe, but missed their work, so they bring stuff (but only to some very special boys and girls, in summer. And another one involving other magical beings jealous of Santa so they are trying to encroach on his territory. Or a prank meant to confuse us as to the real time of year) had sort of come, but hadn't finished. And I couldn't finish setting stuff up, it was disappointing. And with my guilt I blamed him, "you know magic like that, can't happen while you are watching. I am sure they got startled away, and wouldn't come back to finish" to which he reminded me that I had been up walking around too.
I don't know, you would think, it would all be over now, no way he could buy it anymore, well if so, he is admitting nothing. I imagine if he knows, now, he is shocked, for he would think me to lazy to have been doing this stuff all these years. And has often remarked that the elves do a better job of decorating for Christmas in July, than I do decorating for Christmas. ( he did walk up and down the stairs this Christmas too, but we had wised up, one big gift from Santa, and then little gifts from us in different wrapping paper. He caught me with these but that was ok. I told him I thought we (his parents) should start getting him stuff too, because as kids get older and older they eventually get less stuff from Santa, because the gifts get more expensive, and you know there are a lot more kids in the world now, and it used to be simpler stuff like wooden trucks and dolls, but now it is Xbox, and Wii, and also grown-ups don't get gifts from Santa, but they do get gifts from their parents, and relatives (in honor of Christmas. Which is about the spirit of giving, and love. I can honor God and have Santa too.)
it is weird as parents, the wanting the child to still believe, and the feeling that they are old enough not to. I don't ever remember believing (the tip-off, I never got what I asked for, what I really wanted. One year, I asked for a toy horse pulling a cart/carriage, and I got a plastic mule pulling a wagon in some mining themed type of thing. Santa would never do such a thing to a 5 or 6 year old girl, it wasn't a revelation though, I had known). I still loved it all. The stories. The myths. The culture that hands this down from one generation to the next, as a gift to believe in magical things. I don't think of it as a lie at all, rather a reminder. When the world was newer, each sunrise was magic, the world was vast and unknown, and what wasn't understood, was filled with awe, and given meanings, sometimes wonderful and sometimes horrible. I still think the world is that way, vast, greatly unknown, filled with things we don't understand, with great beauty to fill us with awe, and things both so wonderful and so horrible, that we try to fill them with meanings, or say it is all devoid of meanings. But it feels like many people think it is known, because of what we do know, and because we understand, seasons, days, the tilting, turning, planet going round the sun. I don't know the more I learn, the more amazed I am. I don't know maybe I am just too stupid to be scientific, but it is all magical to me, meaning mysterious and enchanting (the how it happens doesn't explain the why). I have no interest in slight of hand, or tricks, but seeing the magic in the natural. And people's minds, and ideas, and creating stuff, that is magic. A myth, or an idea, passed down like this, something beautiful in it, the spirit of the idea (which is a good spirit), goes on and on, someone to give gifts, to bring joy. I suppose in some ways it is like a game, we all play, together. And I am grateful that I have gotten to play such a wonderful game, both as child, and as a parent.
back to how we observe them-
The Easter thing ( the greatness of spring) (I love Easter), involves hidden eggs (of course) with some special plastic ones, with riddles inside, you have to figure out to find gifts hidden in the house (lots of bad rhyme involved there, and special handwritting). Of course there is chocolate!
Halloween is the easiest one, with the great pumpkin (it is the one I came up with first, obviously from Charlie Brown). You wake up the day after Halloween night, and if you are a kid, there is a gift inside your pumpkin. This evolved because no one was helping me, in any way, do the pumpkin carving, and the great pumpkin will not leave you a gift inside your pumpkin if he can't because it isn't a jack-o-lantern. (now why he would want you to masacre them I can't say, my reasoning is, it is more about embracing the pumpkin part of the holiday). My Husband hated this one, the first time I did it, thought it would mess our kid up in the head, and all the other kids would make fun of him. In 05 it didn't happen, no one carved, but last year, he was determined to get the Great Pumpkin to come. My DH can stick a sock in it.
which brings us back to-
I have to figure something out, for Saturday, and my mind, is blank. My son loves this game we play together, and so do I (as soon as I can figure out what the heck I am going to do for this holdiay).
The flock of white birds
I came up to get my computer, and saw them out the window, a flock of white birds. Before a couple of months ago, I have never seen a flock of white birds before. (I'm sure I must have on TV). I never know if/when I will see them, so each time is surprising. It feels mysterious. They intrigue me. I like to watch them, as they fly against the sky, they disappear, and reappear, they are striking in front of the blue mountains. So many of them, gathered together in a field. Where did they come from? Where are they going? I know they are just white geese ( I assume so), nothing out of the ordinary about them, and in places where they are commonly seen my enthusiasm would seem daft, but there is something magical in them for me. They don't seem to fly in the same patterns as Candian geese, they undulate and wave, wings glittering, reflecting sunlight, as they appear and disappear, as if fading in and out of existence, crossing back in forth between two worlds, one of solid matter, one of spirit. When the different flocks land together it seems at least a hundred, field of white birds, ethereal from this distance. I know part of the appeal is the white birds in my story, so of course they would seem to mean more to me (though the birds in the story certainly are not geese), but they would have captivated me anyway. As I stood watching them fly in the distance, I suddenly saw white wings above me, a smaller flock had just flown over my head. All those white wings.
Monday, March 12, 2007
a bit of opposite
In honor, of the bad mood I had earlier today, I decided I would put something opposite on here. I was in car- driving, late February. And I was struck by the light behind the trees, and these are the thoughts that followed, unusual because I do not like winter, because of the cold, and the often grey, but this scene was filled with color, though played on a backdrop of white (snow), and I wrote this down while I drove. I don't reccommend doing that, but as things sometimes do, it kept repeating itself until I did write it down.
burst
burst open my heart
explode it all apart
of everything else it becomes a part
like pollock's paint in pop art
of all this beauty
let me be a part
because it hums and sings
and I want to hum and sing too
what I feel through me
let me be felt through
*There is a slightly different first part-
bust
burst open my heart
explode it all apart
splashes everywhere
like Pollock's painting, Art
of all this beauty
let me be a part.
because it hums and sings
and I want to hum and sing too
what I feel through me
let me be felt through.
I freely admit I am not a poet, but I like it anyway, I am not to fuss with it, try and fix it, make it better, it says as I feel, or as I felt, looking at the light in the sky behind the treetops that day, and that is all I shall ask of it. What else would I ask? I think I prefer the second version, and then there is the question of a line in parenthesis on my paper,
of all this beauty,
(around me, (I see)
- let me be a part.
I don't know whether to include it or not.
I was surprised by how strongly I felt it. Other words over to the side of the page say "fling it", as in flinging bits of my heart in splashes over everything, like splattered paint it would be all over the snow, and the sky, and the trees. And like impressionism all the lines would be blurred, the color of the tree in the sky, the color of the sky in the tree, the fields the snow, all the colors echo, I would be in it all, and it would all be in me. Too much rhyme, and bad rhyme, I am a frequent perpetrator of just such crimes. (and I can live with that, just fine). It is a harmless way to annoy one's children. I don't know why I would have such a liking for over-rhyme, or bad puns, or words that sound alike- peony ponies- pictures of pitchers-pieces of peace-
allright go to bed!
I have no intention of being me tomorrow if I'm going to be all grumpy.
Which reminds me. You know what is cool about being in a family?
You end up saying the ridiculous sayings of each other
When my Husband is grumpy I call him Grumpelstiltskin, and when my son is acting grumpy-rude I say -stop being such a grumplefish. Why? I have no idea, it is sort of strange. And I have noticed lately my Husband has incorporated these words into his vocabulary. I sort of like it, having my nonsensical sayings in sentences. It was also really cute to hear my niece say the one day "call him a grumpy fish again Aunt Ya ya.". And I know I pick up all sorts of things they say unawares. You become like your own microcosm, with your own culture, own language, own food. We all watch Naruto now, we talk a certain way because we do, certain concepts, and phrases, and creatures, are a part of our current family culture.
Oh, time didn't stop while I was writing. How odd? Oh and I didn't floss yet either, darn it.
night
by the bye,
the time is after 12, I don't go to bed at 7
burst
burst open my heart
explode it all apart
of everything else it becomes a part
like pollock's paint in pop art
of all this beauty
let me be a part
because it hums and sings
and I want to hum and sing too
what I feel through me
let me be felt through
*There is a slightly different first part-
bust
burst open my heart
explode it all apart
splashes everywhere
like Pollock's painting, Art
of all this beauty
let me be a part.
because it hums and sings
and I want to hum and sing too
what I feel through me
let me be felt through.
I freely admit I am not a poet, but I like it anyway, I am not to fuss with it, try and fix it, make it better, it says as I feel, or as I felt, looking at the light in the sky behind the treetops that day, and that is all I shall ask of it. What else would I ask? I think I prefer the second version, and then there is the question of a line in parenthesis on my paper,
of all this beauty,
(around me, (I see)
- let me be a part.
I don't know whether to include it or not.
I was surprised by how strongly I felt it. Other words over to the side of the page say "fling it", as in flinging bits of my heart in splashes over everything, like splattered paint it would be all over the snow, and the sky, and the trees. And like impressionism all the lines would be blurred, the color of the tree in the sky, the color of the sky in the tree, the fields the snow, all the colors echo, I would be in it all, and it would all be in me. Too much rhyme, and bad rhyme, I am a frequent perpetrator of just such crimes. (and I can live with that, just fine). It is a harmless way to annoy one's children. I don't know why I would have such a liking for over-rhyme, or bad puns, or words that sound alike- peony ponies- pictures of pitchers-pieces of peace-
allright go to bed!
I have no intention of being me tomorrow if I'm going to be all grumpy.
Which reminds me. You know what is cool about being in a family?
You end up saying the ridiculous sayings of each other
When my Husband is grumpy I call him Grumpelstiltskin, and when my son is acting grumpy-rude I say -stop being such a grumplefish. Why? I have no idea, it is sort of strange. And I have noticed lately my Husband has incorporated these words into his vocabulary. I sort of like it, having my nonsensical sayings in sentences. It was also really cute to hear my niece say the one day "call him a grumpy fish again Aunt Ya ya.". And I know I pick up all sorts of things they say unawares. You become like your own microcosm, with your own culture, own language, own food. We all watch Naruto now, we talk a certain way because we do, certain concepts, and phrases, and creatures, are a part of our current family culture.
Oh, time didn't stop while I was writing. How odd? Oh and I didn't floss yet either, darn it.
night
by the bye,
the time is after 12, I don't go to bed at 7
My Husband was ever so nice. ???
when he got home, "oh look you made a plate for me, oh and it looks so good, I can't wait to eat it!". I paused in what I was doing, and thought "what the heck is up with him?". Thinking, thinking, thinking...oh yeah! Someone ranted and raved this morning before he left for work, said things like "I am so sick of making food you people don't eat! I wont do it anymore, you want something you order it. Tell me what you want ahead of time, then I will buy stuff and make it, none of this spend my time meal planning and shopping and making stuff and no one eats it! I'm done. Done. You don't tell me what to make you, I'm making nothing!". Oh yeah, that's right, that was me. How could I have forgotten? I was in rare form this morning (with everyone). I did tell him I would make this meal, since I had already planned it, pesto salmon, pasta alfredo (trader joes), ginger soy carrots (trader j's), and there was asparagus but I ate all of it. Son ate some salmon complained whole time said he doesn't like salmon (well he used to), but was very pleased when I brought out the pasta a bit later "you made me eat that salmon and didn't tell me you had this good pasta". (darn right I didn't).
I think I have to be quite serious about the meal planning thing, because they are driving me crazy. And now when they don't eat something, I am not eating it either, so it doesn't get eaten. And our cat is strickly a cat food eater, we have tried to get him to eat chicken and fish and he looks at us like we're nuts. I wonder what they will eat tomorrow? I should go remind them, that they have to think of something. I really don't think that is unreasonable, I know he thinks it is my job, but I think it is enough that I will buy it and make it, and clean up after. Why do I also have to figure out what they want to eat? And they never want to eat what I think they should eat, and even when I try to make it with cheese or chicken encrusted with barbecue potato chips, it still doesn't go over well. And they haven't shown any interest in the food I am currently eating.
Speaking of which,the soy ginger carrots were good with the asparagus. I wish I could stop eating peanut butter for dessert though, it is totally messing with my hopes of weight loss. I'll have to see what the protein content is of this other food, I am eating some nuts and too much peanut butter because of concern over the usual protein sources I am not eating, but maybe I don't need to.
I wonder why I am wasting my time and energy thinking about food, and writing about it? I could be reading a book right now. I could be downstairs with my Husband, but he changes the channel to much, I will go down now, but he will complain when I watch Anderson. Why am I not writing, really writing? Where has Zaph/Koji gone? Is he not walking up the hill, on the winding path, and am I not supposed to follow? Like a low cloud, like a bit of mist, like the sunlight on his back. A journey which is mine to take, as it is his, over and over, till we know it so well, the story of our lives, together. He can not go one without me, he is suspended in time, and I can not go on without him, I am suspended in time. And why be afraid when I already know so many parts by heart, and why be afraid when so many parts are my heart?
Is it not I, who loves to watch things grow?
so say I
Grow
I think I have to be quite serious about the meal planning thing, because they are driving me crazy. And now when they don't eat something, I am not eating it either, so it doesn't get eaten. And our cat is strickly a cat food eater, we have tried to get him to eat chicken and fish and he looks at us like we're nuts. I wonder what they will eat tomorrow? I should go remind them, that they have to think of something. I really don't think that is unreasonable, I know he thinks it is my job, but I think it is enough that I will buy it and make it, and clean up after. Why do I also have to figure out what they want to eat? And they never want to eat what I think they should eat, and even when I try to make it with cheese or chicken encrusted with barbecue potato chips, it still doesn't go over well. And they haven't shown any interest in the food I am currently eating.
Speaking of which,the soy ginger carrots were good with the asparagus. I wish I could stop eating peanut butter for dessert though, it is totally messing with my hopes of weight loss. I'll have to see what the protein content is of this other food, I am eating some nuts and too much peanut butter because of concern over the usual protein sources I am not eating, but maybe I don't need to.
I wonder why I am wasting my time and energy thinking about food, and writing about it? I could be reading a book right now. I could be downstairs with my Husband, but he changes the channel to much, I will go down now, but he will complain when I watch Anderson. Why am I not writing, really writing? Where has Zaph/Koji gone? Is he not walking up the hill, on the winding path, and am I not supposed to follow? Like a low cloud, like a bit of mist, like the sunlight on his back. A journey which is mine to take, as it is his, over and over, till we know it so well, the story of our lives, together. He can not go one without me, he is suspended in time, and I can not go on without him, I am suspended in time. And why be afraid when I already know so many parts by heart, and why be afraid when so many parts are my heart?
Is it not I, who loves to watch things grow?
so say I
Grow
Sunday, March 11, 2007
better
I guess getting the book at the library, and the threat of the elimination diet was enough in and of itself to make the pain go away. After reading symptom lists, there is a lot of stuff I don't have, doesn't seem to fit any illness, and no gerd or heartburn, and D is a frequent symptom on lists, which is something that I do not have. So, I don't know what is left, certain food intolerances it could still be, and I can't say for sure that it coudn't be an ulcer, but it seems unlikely ( I think the pain would then always be in the same area, and feel the same, and crackers wouldn't cause pain, and then I think tomato sauce would). So I am going with, sometimes certain foods or patterns of eating don't sit well with me (that is my official Dx). If I have ongoing troubles I will have to do the stupid elimination diet (which oddly enough has avocados, spinach, and asparagus on it. Things I'm suddenly eating a lot of). I would wait till after Easter, if I did do it. Ugh, after reading about it, I don't like the whole concept, it is about the body having trouble with foods it eats frequently, thus if one has a tendency toward intolerances one would be at risk for developing an intolerance with any food he/she eats often. Which means that if I eat lots of this pasta sauce, and avocados, etc., then I will be likely to develop problems with these foods too, ugh that wont do at all, that is how I eat, I get in grooves, and eat the same thing week after week for months, till I am good and sick of it, then I have to find other things to eat, and I eat them till I get sick of them. Speaking of which it is hard giving up the morning fuji apple (though I am sick of them, thus they don't taste as good anymore), I sitll haven't found a good replacement, right now I am trying strawberries, but they aren't in season (is anything?), I don't like sour or tart tastes, so I have to cut them up and add sugar.
I did eat lunch with my Mom, less than I usually would have, overall it went pretty well. I have a strategy now, call it fruit/veg mush base. I've been starting out with a fruit breaksfast for awhile now. I thought this was choice, and maybe it used to be, but now I am unable to eat a carb for breakfast, that much I did figure out, it actually hurts. I can add some to the veg mush base and it is fine, though I guess I should call it fruit mush instead because I am talking about tomato sauces or avocados, with then veg added. The Indian pre-packaged meal things, seem to be working pretty well, tried them because they fit into this concept. So it is all good, I'm just going to have to keep looking for ways to expand it, so I'm not repeating within the week. Oh, and I can't eat too many different types of stuff, I can't do one of these, and one of those, and a bite of this that and the other thing, at any given meal.
The one thing which is still a downer which may or may not resolve itself, is that I am afraid of certain food (s). We have some flavored "natural" potato chips, I can't eat them, I'm scared. I tried one, they taste ok, kind of weird, but not bad (mind you, I haven't had them in about 8 months, but I used to really like them), and now I actually feel fear when I try to (do they taste different, or am I tasteing fear?). And if they would end up bringing back the pain, they certainly don't taste good enough for me to be ok with that. A slice of "healthy" pizza, now makes me nervous, should I eat it, shouldn't I eat it, is there something in it that will burn, or stab, or during the night make me feel like I might throw-up so I wont be able to sleep at all? Sure, I have been stressed over food choices before in my life, but it was about idelology, those kinds of shoulds and shouldn'ts, and I finally decided it was stupid, the stress of worrying about this and that, all these rules, probably being worse than consuming whatever it was, would be. So I decided to worry less and enjoy more, try and seek balance. I made friends with dairy again, and decided that yes I could eat a cheeseburger ( about once a month, a little more in summer), and dessert (frequently). And now (about 2 yrs later) here I am back at food fear. Only this time the fear isn't because of an external belief but internal grief. Or at least that is how it seems, but what if it is somehow all psychosomatic, what if I am doing this to me, what the heck would it be about, and if so, seriously could it just stop happening, because I am so not in the mood to go evaluating the heck out of everything. Besides I doubt I could figure it out anyway. I'll stick with my new strategy for now, because it is working. And maybe it is just my body, maybe it missed eating the veg, maybe I am low on some vit or mineral or something, and it is just forcing me to make other choices for awhile. I'm trying not to stress-out over it, just taste it, if tastes good, I eat it, if not, I don't. But when it tastes just alright, then I'm not sure what to do. Oh which brings us to a bit of grossness, if I taste it and it tastes bad I spit it out, much like a child would, only more descreetly into a napkin. Such was the fate of a bite of chicken at lunch, and a bit of egg at dinner yesterday, yuk, disgusting, trash.
by the by, You would think I would have lost weight right? Ha, no not really, about two pounds but that is because I started exercising again, and I get to see my weight go right back up again any day I don't. I seem to be packing in the calories just the same. Yep, it is a very thick, veg/fruit base, with plenty of fat in it. You would think I would be afraid of nuts, but I've been getting hungry for peanut butter, and have had no troubles with it (except for caloric ones). I am afraid of cheese though, no idea why,(I have always loved cheese, even when avoiding it, I never would have denied my love) but it doesn't appeal to me right now (thinking about it makes me feel queasy), and if I take a bite "no, don't eat it" everything seems to say. weird. whatever.
I did eat lunch with my Mom, less than I usually would have, overall it went pretty well. I have a strategy now, call it fruit/veg mush base. I've been starting out with a fruit breaksfast for awhile now. I thought this was choice, and maybe it used to be, but now I am unable to eat a carb for breakfast, that much I did figure out, it actually hurts. I can add some to the veg mush base and it is fine, though I guess I should call it fruit mush instead because I am talking about tomato sauces or avocados, with then veg added. The Indian pre-packaged meal things, seem to be working pretty well, tried them because they fit into this concept. So it is all good, I'm just going to have to keep looking for ways to expand it, so I'm not repeating within the week. Oh, and I can't eat too many different types of stuff, I can't do one of these, and one of those, and a bite of this that and the other thing, at any given meal.
The one thing which is still a downer which may or may not resolve itself, is that I am afraid of certain food (s). We have some flavored "natural" potato chips, I can't eat them, I'm scared. I tried one, they taste ok, kind of weird, but not bad (mind you, I haven't had them in about 8 months, but I used to really like them), and now I actually feel fear when I try to (do they taste different, or am I tasteing fear?). And if they would end up bringing back the pain, they certainly don't taste good enough for me to be ok with that. A slice of "healthy" pizza, now makes me nervous, should I eat it, shouldn't I eat it, is there something in it that will burn, or stab, or during the night make me feel like I might throw-up so I wont be able to sleep at all? Sure, I have been stressed over food choices before in my life, but it was about idelology, those kinds of shoulds and shouldn'ts, and I finally decided it was stupid, the stress of worrying about this and that, all these rules, probably being worse than consuming whatever it was, would be. So I decided to worry less and enjoy more, try and seek balance. I made friends with dairy again, and decided that yes I could eat a cheeseburger ( about once a month, a little more in summer), and dessert (frequently). And now (about 2 yrs later) here I am back at food fear. Only this time the fear isn't because of an external belief but internal grief. Or at least that is how it seems, but what if it is somehow all psychosomatic, what if I am doing this to me, what the heck would it be about, and if so, seriously could it just stop happening, because I am so not in the mood to go evaluating the heck out of everything. Besides I doubt I could figure it out anyway. I'll stick with my new strategy for now, because it is working. And maybe it is just my body, maybe it missed eating the veg, maybe I am low on some vit or mineral or something, and it is just forcing me to make other choices for awhile. I'm trying not to stress-out over it, just taste it, if tastes good, I eat it, if not, I don't. But when it tastes just alright, then I'm not sure what to do. Oh which brings us to a bit of grossness, if I taste it and it tastes bad I spit it out, much like a child would, only more descreetly into a napkin. Such was the fate of a bite of chicken at lunch, and a bit of egg at dinner yesterday, yuk, disgusting, trash.
by the by, You would think I would have lost weight right? Ha, no not really, about two pounds but that is because I started exercising again, and I get to see my weight go right back up again any day I don't. I seem to be packing in the calories just the same. Yep, it is a very thick, veg/fruit base, with plenty of fat in it. You would think I would be afraid of nuts, but I've been getting hungry for peanut butter, and have had no troubles with it (except for caloric ones). I am afraid of cheese though, no idea why,(I have always loved cheese, even when avoiding it, I never would have denied my love) but it doesn't appeal to me right now (thinking about it makes me feel queasy), and if I take a bite "no, don't eat it" everything seems to say. weird. whatever.
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
I'll go to the library tomorrow instead
and see if I can find a book about it, I have to go anyway, and I am not enjoying my web quest for info. Many cover the same general stuff over and over, and the others want me to join a club, or to buy something, or at the very least to buy into something. An elimination diet sounds like such a drag, with so many possible culprits, sulfites, and food additives, etc., ugh. It all (the intolerances thing) sounds kind of made up to me (though the pain I am feeling does seem real) If only I hadn't been having problems since September, I wouldn't bother looking into it at all. And several family members do avoid certain foods, we have 3 lactose intolerant, and a bunch of onion avoiders, among other things. No one will say what happens to them though, how they know, I have asked. My Husband mentions ulcers (because September was stomach on fire), that really doesn't appeal to me (I don't want one). He is going to be out with me tomorrow and he is just going to have to deal with buying more pasta sauce and avocados (he whined when I mentioned it). And they are just going to have to tell me what they want me to make them for dinner, I have a feeling I'm going to be less motivated in the meal planning and prep areas. It always amazes me, how when they do not seem terribly fond of my cooking, whenever they are hungry, they still always walk over and stare at me, and say "what's for dinner?". At least they did eat last nights meal. Though my son was indignant when I made him try the lemon herb rice, he said "eww, it tastes awful" and I said " I know" and he said "you knew that, and you made me eat it anyway" and I said " I didn't make you eat it, I merely made you taste it". He felt this was not nice of me, eh, my husband ate it, and the unplated stuff in the fridge. I didn't tell him no one else was willing to.
stupid stomach pain is back
now I am going to have to waste time surfing the net for info on food intolerances etc.
I know, it is super boring to drone on about it so, but I like food, I don't like being afraid of it, so I am going to have to figure something out. so this is just me, thinking
Last week went so well, so well the boys made fun of me, "gee, all you had to do to feel better was come home". But I wasn't eating my usual way. During the week, I ate 3 avocados, 2 containers of fresh peach-mango salsa (with some corn chips and sour cream, and enough fresh cilantro to kill a pony), two jars of Alessi pasta sauce with eggplant, and cooked three small eggplants and ate them with it, 1/2 jar of favorite local marinara, 2 cream of spinach packages, and a big package of frozen spinach (added butter and salt), and my fav juice combo of tropicana OJ with some bolthouse carrot juice mixed in (over lots of crushed ice). I had my traditional fuji apple everyday, some days I finished off with two peanut butter girl-scout cookies which I added all natural peanut butter too (much to the horror of my son). I'm sure I ate other stuff, but I can't recall it. I know there were some dried fruit and nuts. I tried to eat some stuff I usually eat, but didn't want it. Had an aversion to chicken, meat, turkey, seafood, etc., which is odd, I was a vegetarian several years ago, for many years, but I didn't eat flesh foods because of moral reasons, and health ones (though I ate a fair amount of psuedo health food and junk food), I always liked the taste of chicken, roast beef, etc. so it was weird to not like the taste, and to feel sick and not eat it, because my body had no interest in it. Same way when I tried to eat a pancake, or muffin (had a yuk response). I felt good, was really enjoying what I was eating, but for something that seemed to have plenty of fruit and veg in it, it was a rather high fat, high calorie menu, and very repetitive.
This week I made myself promise, no more avocados, and to give the pasta sauce a break. And now my stomach hurts!!! It started last night, stomach blew up like a Douc Langur monkey's, felt nauseous (things I was considering for blame, bread, an egg, different brand of pasta sauce (1/2 cup it tasted very onion and garlicky, but there were those ingredients in the sauces and salsa I ate last week). Everything else I ate seemed like it couldn't be the problem). Felt fine today, had apple, 2 hours later stomach growling, decided to eat lunch, first thing I recall eating was two bites of bread, tried the mustard chicken I made for everyone else last night, didn't want it, tried the artichoke pate on bread, tastes just like olives, not awful, just not my thing, and already my stomach was giving me jabbing pains. I think this was before I ate any of the carrot, squash turnip mix, ( cooked with butter, brown sugar). And before I ate the veg burger. Because after the pain started I choose to eat anyway. I also ate some indian mashed veg curry, I liked it, but it wanted bread, so I did end up eating some, all in all I would say I had a slice of bread (it wasn't sliced but loaf). I don't want the problem to be the bread. I did have a flour tortilla last week, with an avocado and stuff in it, I was fine.
Ugh, I don't know, I hate this. Should I just eat last weeks menu again this week? I'm thinking so. There is a family lunch tomorrow with my Mom, and co. for a b-day. My stomach doesn't want to go. (what do I do?). We are eating at a relatives house. I wonder how bad it would be to bring my own jar of pasta sauce and just eat that. I suppose I could just eat what everyone else eats, and if I am in pain, well then, that will just help me narrow down my focus, and find the culprit (so I can eliminate it).
Well I guess I will do that research on food intolerances now, the one good thing about it is, whenever I do any type of symptom research I end up feeling quite healthy, there are all these problems I don't have (thank God). And also on the upside, I am not at all sick of the avocados, or the alessi sauce. ( a month from now, who knows, but today it's ok).
Husband is upset with me for not working on my book, I appreciate that (that he supports and is encouraging this part of me), I don't know what the heck is up with me on that score, the whole thing feels like its a million miles away, like the story and I are separated, one of us above water, one of us below ( or is it different dimensions?). When I seek to feel the story or feel motivation, I just feel nothingness. Over-all disconnected. On upside, did work out 3 days of past 4. Of course it was procrastinating doing house work and writing, but at least it was something done.
I know, it is super boring to drone on about it so, but I like food, I don't like being afraid of it, so I am going to have to figure something out. so this is just me, thinking
Last week went so well, so well the boys made fun of me, "gee, all you had to do to feel better was come home". But I wasn't eating my usual way. During the week, I ate 3 avocados, 2 containers of fresh peach-mango salsa (with some corn chips and sour cream, and enough fresh cilantro to kill a pony), two jars of Alessi pasta sauce with eggplant, and cooked three small eggplants and ate them with it, 1/2 jar of favorite local marinara, 2 cream of spinach packages, and a big package of frozen spinach (added butter and salt), and my fav juice combo of tropicana OJ with some bolthouse carrot juice mixed in (over lots of crushed ice). I had my traditional fuji apple everyday, some days I finished off with two peanut butter girl-scout cookies which I added all natural peanut butter too (much to the horror of my son). I'm sure I ate other stuff, but I can't recall it. I know there were some dried fruit and nuts. I tried to eat some stuff I usually eat, but didn't want it. Had an aversion to chicken, meat, turkey, seafood, etc., which is odd, I was a vegetarian several years ago, for many years, but I didn't eat flesh foods because of moral reasons, and health ones (though I ate a fair amount of psuedo health food and junk food), I always liked the taste of chicken, roast beef, etc. so it was weird to not like the taste, and to feel sick and not eat it, because my body had no interest in it. Same way when I tried to eat a pancake, or muffin (had a yuk response). I felt good, was really enjoying what I was eating, but for something that seemed to have plenty of fruit and veg in it, it was a rather high fat, high calorie menu, and very repetitive.
This week I made myself promise, no more avocados, and to give the pasta sauce a break. And now my stomach hurts!!! It started last night, stomach blew up like a Douc Langur monkey's, felt nauseous (things I was considering for blame, bread, an egg, different brand of pasta sauce (1/2 cup it tasted very onion and garlicky, but there were those ingredients in the sauces and salsa I ate last week). Everything else I ate seemed like it couldn't be the problem). Felt fine today, had apple, 2 hours later stomach growling, decided to eat lunch, first thing I recall eating was two bites of bread, tried the mustard chicken I made for everyone else last night, didn't want it, tried the artichoke pate on bread, tastes just like olives, not awful, just not my thing, and already my stomach was giving me jabbing pains. I think this was before I ate any of the carrot, squash turnip mix, ( cooked with butter, brown sugar). And before I ate the veg burger. Because after the pain started I choose to eat anyway. I also ate some indian mashed veg curry, I liked it, but it wanted bread, so I did end up eating some, all in all I would say I had a slice of bread (it wasn't sliced but loaf). I don't want the problem to be the bread. I did have a flour tortilla last week, with an avocado and stuff in it, I was fine.
Ugh, I don't know, I hate this. Should I just eat last weeks menu again this week? I'm thinking so. There is a family lunch tomorrow with my Mom, and co. for a b-day. My stomach doesn't want to go. (what do I do?). We are eating at a relatives house. I wonder how bad it would be to bring my own jar of pasta sauce and just eat that. I suppose I could just eat what everyone else eats, and if I am in pain, well then, that will just help me narrow down my focus, and find the culprit (so I can eliminate it).
Well I guess I will do that research on food intolerances now, the one good thing about it is, whenever I do any type of symptom research I end up feeling quite healthy, there are all these problems I don't have (thank God). And also on the upside, I am not at all sick of the avocados, or the alessi sauce. ( a month from now, who knows, but today it's ok).
Husband is upset with me for not working on my book, I appreciate that (that he supports and is encouraging this part of me), I don't know what the heck is up with me on that score, the whole thing feels like its a million miles away, like the story and I are separated, one of us above water, one of us below ( or is it different dimensions?). When I seek to feel the story or feel motivation, I just feel nothingness. Over-all disconnected. On upside, did work out 3 days of past 4. Of course it was procrastinating doing house work and writing, but at least it was something done.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
favorite quote of vacation
Son in backseat of car, asking us to put the Harry Potter audio book back on.
"fill me,
fill me with words,
the way you fill a pinata with candy"
yeah, that sounds nice.
That is how I want to be too.
as long as there is no person with a great big stick, whacking at us, in this metaphor.
"fill me,
fill me with words,
the way you fill a pinata with candy"
yeah, that sounds nice.
That is how I want to be too.
as long as there is no person with a great big stick, whacking at us, in this metaphor.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)