Where Can I Find a Snowflake Like You

Today was my second day working out at the Y. I specifically picked the Y to workout in because of its family orientation and its rowers.  Since I knew that I would be by myself most of the time, I figured I wouldn't have to deal with agressive men hitting on me. To be honest, with my recent weight gain I can't imagine anyone voluntary hitting on me, especially in my spandex.  I mean look at the picture. That's how I went to the gym! Rolled out of bed, put on my clothes and headband. My daughter even asked if I was going out like this. My response: Yes, I'm going to workout, not participate in a fashion show!

I arrived at the Y around 9am. There were several seniors taking classes and working out. There were also a few stay at home moms and two teens. I proceeded to the rower, took off my sweatshirt and commenced rowing. I row in five minute sets with increasing pull. I also row/workout with my headphones in. I'm really not there to socialize,  I'm there to workout. I'll take out my headphones to say hi, or answer a question, but I like to keep things moving.

The rowers aren't used much. A grey haired man in his late 70's informed me of this as I was setting the timer and tension. He also informed me I might get some questions because of this. He welcomed me to the Y and thanked me for brighting up the place. Very nice and appropriate! I made it to the second set before a middle aged African American man started to ask if the rower gives you a good workout. I explained how it worked and major muscle groups worked. Said happy new year and have a nice day. I figured that would be the end of it and he was just being friendly.

When I finished my third set the man came back and started with the following:

Guy: You from around here?

Me: Not originally. I'm from New England.

Guy: What brings a pretty thing like you all the way down here.

Me: I'm the new assistant principal at Mitchell County High.

Its at this point I realize this man was being a little bit more than friendly and attempting to hit on me. I started to walk away, but he followed me to the weight machines.

Guy: You married?

Me: Yes, happily for ten years and five kids.

Now, the fact that I have my wedding band on should of been his first clue I'm not available. Telling him I was an assistant principal should of been his second clue I was not available. I'm busy with work. When told that I'm happily married with five kids, that's strike three. Dude,  I'm not interested and you're out. Take it to the house and go away! No such luck!

I went to the weight machines and put my headphones back in. I hoped that was the end of it, but when I was done with the stomach machines he was back.

Guy: So, let me ask you something personal.

Before I could say no he continued,

Guy: Where can I find a snowflake like you? I've been looking for a long time for a woman like you!"

What the hell?! I was thinking is this guy serious? Who does this? Is this normal?  Can I cuss him out at the Y? Instead I responded the best I could under the circumstances. 

Me: You could try church or I hear there are plenty of single moms out at the kiddie fields. Gotta go!

Guy: I'm sure going to like watching you leave.

Ohhh Yuck! I assure you I haven't moved that fast in a long time! The next time I go I'm taking one of the kids, preferably a rather loud, obnoxious one. If that doesn't work, I'm going to suggest to my husband getting me a bigger wedding ring to ward off such foolishness! I attached a second picture of my child who has volunteered to be my main man at the Y!

Waffle Maker Irritation

This post is a little different than the my running and illness posts. Such situations like today happen on occasion and are entertaining to others (I hope). I am an easily irritated person when it comes to simple things that aren't so simple, like finding a waffle maker. One would think this quick after Christmas that there would be plenty of waffle makers in stock. I can't imagine that its a high demand item, but apparently I'm wrong.

I started my journey at Wal-Mart, where you should be able to find everything and get an oil change! Yeah, not so much! Not only were the waffle makers not with the small appliances, there was only one out of box $40.00 waffle maker. It was torn up. When I asked the sales associate for some assistance she told me to go to IHOP or Waffle House. Crazy says what?

I then drove across town to Target. It looked liked a place that had been picked over by a horde of elves. There were few associates to help, but I was able to find three waffle makers and only one was under $40.00. I left with a $20.00 waffle maker, but not before the cashier wondered why I just didn't go to Waffle House. Really?

I really had no idea that waffle makers were in such high demand. If I was a conspiracy type person I'd think that Wal-Mart, Target, IHOP, and Waffle House were all in the waffle maker shortage together! That would be as irritating as the waffle maker search today!

Too Much

Some days are just too much! Some diseases' side effects are too much and some days life in general is too much! One of the great side effect of Hashimoto's is weight gain. A second side effect is depression. When the two meet at 5:30 in the morning its too much!

I have a favorite dress fron LL Bean's. Its plaid and flannel and comfortable. I had bought large tights to wear with my favorite dress since it is finally cold enough in South Georgia to wear it. I was prepared for it to be a little tighter than last winter, but when I couldn't even pull it down over my chest and then I had to ask my husband to get the dress off. It was a struggle!  I was near tears!

As if that wasn't enough indignity, the new tights I bought wouldn't even go up over my calves. That was too much! I was fighting back tears, looking for something to wear that was professional looking and I could fit in! There wasn't much to choose from which depressed me further.
Since I've never heard of anyone calling in sick because they got stuck in their favorite dress and were dissolving into tears, I resolved myself to the fact that it was going to be a fat day and there wasn't much I was going to do about it. Hopefully,  my coworkers wouldn't notice and since they've never seen my favorite dress I figured I could suck it up and carry on.

When one of my coworkers told me I looked liked Mary Poppins it was too much. I wanted to go home sick. Today Hashimoto's side effects were too much today. Hopefully I'll have better luck starting my day tomorrow.  I hear elastic waist pants accommodate too much so, I might start there!

How You Know You're Rasing a Running Junkie

I try to raise my kids with the end in mind, meaning that they will be haapy, well adjusted, productive members of society.  I think I might be raising some running junkies instead.  Here are the tell tale signs.
1. Your kid can tell the difference between a tech tee and a cotton tee.
2. Your kid owns more tech tees than cotton tees.
3. Your kid knows how to use the stick after a race.
4. Your kid knows what a foam roller is for and its not for play.
5. After running around in the yard, they tell you their calves are a little tight.
6. They want their own running belt with bib clips because they don't want to risk chaffing.
7. They don't own "cheap" running shoes.
8. Child not only can tell you what over pronation is, they can identify three people at the race who do it.
9. They know exactly how many miles are in a 5K 10K and 15K.
10. When asked to sleep over a friend's house they say they can't because they have a race in the morning.
11. A family vacation always involves some type of running event.
12. Child owns arm sleeves and or compression sleeves.
13. They know their mother's pr in the 5K, 10K and half marathon.
14. They tell people its ONLY three miles when asked about the distance of a race.
15. They know where to go in a starting corrall without being told.
16. They clap, high five and say thank you to every volunteer on the course.
17. They recognize the beep from a watch means an interval is starting or stopping.
18. They can drink a cup of water, while running without spilling it everywhere.
19. They know how to look up their times from the most recent race on the website.
20. Understand the value of a nap after the long run!

Running Not Happy

Despite what my headband says, my first run in almost three weeks was not happy! The leader of my running group texted me to see how I was. I wanted to text back I'm fat, fatigued and weak so I guess I just suck! That's not what anyone wants to hear (or read). A long involved text on adjusting to having Hashimoto disease and its annoying side effects isn't what anyone wants to read either. So today, partially motivated by guilt for missing the last three running dates and partiality motivated by the pictures and posts of my little sister's weight loss, I went for a run when I got home from work. It was a little demoralizing to be honest.

I only ran for 15 minutes. I went with my nine year old who ran with a bottle of water and a bag of chips. The tech shirt from a 2012 half marathon that used to be a little big held my stomach snuggly so it wouldn't jiggle. My muscles fatigue quickly due to the Hashimoto's. After the first minute, my legs felt like fifty pound weights each. The nine year old chomped on chips and chatted the entire way. My fingers and feet swelled to twice their normal size. After 1.2 miles I was sweaty and ready to go to bed for the night! Definitely not the definition of Run Happy.

So, what's changed from a month ago of happily running ten miles on a Saturday to wanting to sit on the curb and cry until someone comes to pick me up? Currently I weigh 160 pounds. This is down from my heaviest of 164. One of the great side effects of Hashimoto disease is unexplained weight gain. I walk on average three miles a day at work. Even after training for my fall half marathon and eating only 1800 calories a day, I gained ten pounds. The doctor and my husband have both told me it is the Hashimoto and not me. Nice of them to say, but they're not looking at my fat face and tight clothes. (The fat face is also a side effect of the Hashimoto.) The joint swelling and muscle fatigue are also part of the Hashimoto's. Fun times when your body attacks itself, fun times.

Depression is a side effect too. Who knew your thyroid controlled so much of your life? I'm not real good with controlling people or diseases apparently. I'd like to rip my thyroid out and just get to regulating it so I can feel like myself, but the doctor says its better to let it go on a long run slowly,  very slowly.  I spent the rest of the night pouting and being more disagreeable than a toddler at bed time. My poor husband tried on numerous occasions to cheer me up to no avail. Everyone should get a day or two to waller, but now I'm done. Running has saved my life before and I owe it more than Hashimoto. 

I have taken some positive steps to manage the side effects and should start seeing results soon. I took the picture to help document the process for the next time I think I suck! What proactive steps have i taken? Glad tou asked! I replaced two cokes a day with water. I replaced my chocolate mouse at lunch with a sugar free version. I'm taking my perscribed vitiams and I'm walking or running after work, despite feeling like napping would be much more productive to my health. My husband refuses to buy a scale so I can check my weight as he feels I might get obsessive about the numbers, instead of my health. Still working on that, but Saturdays I can step on the scale at the grocery store. I'll keep you posted and hopefully I'll be running happy again soon!

The Big Reveal

Wouldn't it be nice if doctors revealed your diagnosis like they do on the television?  Just think, friends and family surround you as you return from your fully paid for spa vacation. You arrive at the doctors in some fancy car that has a driver and the doctor meets you at the door ready to reveal (and hopefully fix) what's been making you feel like crap forever! I think it would be better than the anticlimactic way we do it now! At least I'd feel like I got my copays worth.

None of that happened of course when I went to the endocrinologist.  We waited thirty minutes in the waiting room. Then we had to tell the nurse that she was missing two test. The nurse was friendly and told us that some of my blood work looked good and some did not. Like I wasn't nervous enough. My sweet husband then waited with me another fifteen minutes for the doctor to come in. With little fan fare the doctor asked me if any of my symptoms had changed (which they had not but muscle fatigue) and then announced that I had Hashimoto disease. My thyroid could last ten years or ten weeks. I can plan on having bouts/flare ups until the doctor decides my thyroid is ineffective.  That was the anticlimactic reveal of why I've been feeling like crap the last couple months! It took me the rest of the day to learn to say the new disease the right way. I still slip and call it Qusimodo disease.

There were some other instructions too. Every couple months I have to get my thyroid levels tested frequently and take some vitiams that my body has trouble processing due to my thyroid. My lovely husband gets to watch for swelling of my face and depression. He also gets to tell me when I'm getting fat and over tired. Poor man didn't sign on for babysitting a grown woman, but he does! I've included a picture of my wonderful hubby who loves and supports me!

Medical Test Done Like I Run...

This is a post from two weeks ago I wasn't sure I wanted to share yet since we won't get a diagnosis until November 26, but I decided it might help others or at least entertain them!

Yesterday started at 4am! Not for a race (which will be this Saturday) but to drive three hours for a "NUCLEAR" scan! My appointment for my thyroid ultrasound was at 8am and I was told to allow thirty minutes for registration, as the hospital has a new records system called epic! Epic was a good name because the registration process took two hours.  Two hours sitting in the waiting room, just to be taken to a room with a radioactive sign on the door and given a magic pill.

The pill was so magic that the guy wouldn't even touch the lead bottle and wouldn't help me open it when I couldn't get the "safety" cap off. When I asked for assistance he told me thst he couldn't touch the bottle. I then asked him how the bottle got on the table if he couldn't touch it.  He didn't have an answer fo that but did advise i could get the bottle open by pushing the cap down and up at the same time.  I got the bottle open and the guy reminded me again not to touch the pill. Really? I asked if its not safe to touch then how the hell was I supposed to swallow the pill since my toungue would be in contact with the pill! He was not impressed with my questions of the obvious and replied the test was medically necessary and take the pill.

It was a blue and white pill. I took it then was told to come back in four hours for my scan and uptake test. Oh and by the way you'll have to come back tomorrow to finish the test. Never have I had a medical test that was so slow to complete! Slow to get results back yes, but to administer? I could run two half marathons and clean my house in the time it took to finish with this test.

Apparently,  when you ask too many obvious questions you get the new tech that does not speak a great deal of English when you come back. She was very nice and only had to repeat one of the scans, but unlike the guy from the morning she attempted to explain what was going on. She worked like I run- slow and methodical. The test got done and unlike the couple of hours I wait to check my race time, I will wait a couple weeks for the results from the magic pill. Guess running slow has prepared me once again for waiting to get to the finish line!

One Step Forward, One Step Back

I was supposed to run 12 miles last Saturday,  but instead walked 2.5 and started to bleed from my biopsy.  I didn't realize that your uterus would take so long to heal from a "minimum invasive procedure," but it did take two rounds to get the sample. Note to anyone reading this. .. minimum invasive procedure is a relative term, meaning its going to hurt like hell, but the insurance company says we can do it in the office with no pain meds! I had the biopsy Thursday evening and Wednesday was the first day of no bleeding and no cramping. One step closer to answers, one step further away from my marathon training.

Finding answers is not easy, but like my workout plan, I keep checking off tests and possibilities.  Its a tiring and frustratingly long process, which is probably like training for a marathon. Unlike finishing a race, I'm not sure what emotions will be on the other side of whatever diagnosis I'm given. Like a finish line in a race, I would like to get a diagnosis quickly so I can get on with my life!

Lots Going on and 135 Days Until I Run A Marathon

Its been awhile since I've written anything on this blog. I've been a little busy tracking down some health issues. I've been pretty exhausted for the last couple months and at first I thought it was starting a new job and increasing mileage,  but a blood test indicated that I have thyroid issues. A subsequent visit to the doctor has lead to more tests and a working diagnosis of hyperthyroidism. Yeah something new. Since treatment depends on what is causing the hyperthyroidism,  I'm trudging through appointments and tests one at a time.

With 135 days until my first marathon, one of my biggest fears is correcting the thyroid will interrupt my training, or worse, cancel it all together. I'm too far in now to bail. I completed my first ten miler of the training plan and will run my third half marathon of the year on November 9. I religiously meet my running group bright and early Saturday mornings and run the proscribed distance.  Ironically,  its the training for the marathon that has put this most recent health crisis in perspective. Its early and dark when we meet. The only thing I know is the distance for the day. I trust our pace leader to lead us, while I put one foot in front of the other. The sun come up half way through the run. We finish the run with smiles and promises that we'll stick with the program.

How has marathon training prepared me for this recent health crisis? I've met the doctors in the dark about my condition. The doctors, like my pace group leader, has the plan and since this is not my area of expertise,  I have to trust the doctor will make sure I finish in good shape. With each new ordered test and appointment I approach them with the same mindset as the long run...just keep putting one foot in front of the other. This mindset has served me well through marathon training and I hope it will find me smiling and happy with the treatment plan.

I'll keep y'all posted on the running and the treatment.  Three more tests left and a follow up to come, but if you want to see what gives me the mental toughness to deal with these medical issues, come watch me run in Columbus on November 9.

173 Days Left and a Swollen Foot

This week's long run was 5miles. Saturday was a wasted day at the doctor's office so, I had to run it by myself today. 173 days seems like a long time away, but in marathon training at my age and medical issues, I'm not sure I can afford an time off to nurse an injury.  So, of course that means my right foot decides to show itself, and not in a good way! Not sure if my ankle brace for the bone fragments has become obsolete, or if I stepped wrong, but there's brusing and a bone sticking out.

Now for most people I'm sure a bruised foot with a lump after running is a trip to the doctor, but since I spent yesterday there I'm really not in the mood to hear "ice and rest!" I'm also not in the mood to hear "why run a marathon, " so I'm treating my foot at home! I do have a doctorate degree after all (okay, so its not a medical degree but it should count for something, right)!  I've manipulated the bone somewhere close to back in place, and as you see in the picture I'm icing it. If that doesn't do the trick I have a couple orthopedic boots to select from. This is not my first rodeo with orthopedic issues and I have amassed a great deal of equipment to refrain from giving money, that could be spent on a race or new running outfit, to a doctor!

So here I sit! I'm making steak for supper and going to bed early. I hear that proteins help you heal faster! There are two thirty minute runs on slate for later this week so, say a little prayer that my foot is ready. There are only 173 more days until my first marathon and I need to be in tip top shape!

Doctor Visit, Up and 174 Days to Go

I was supposed to run five miles today with my pace group, but I went to the doctor's instead. I did my 30 minutes Thursday, but its been a rough week and everyone could tell. My principal told me to go home and rest this weekend.  No football game tonight, just rest and take Monday too if I need it! (Have I mentioned how much I love my new school) My stomach has been bothering me and I feel like I have a piece of candy stuck in my throat.

I slept in until 830am, ate, showered and went to the doctor.  The doctor took one look at my throat and said it was obvious I had strep! I was surprised by her announcement because I haven't been running a fever and my throat doesn't hurt. Blood work doesn't show elevated white blood cells and they never ran a strep test. An antibiotic shot and steroid shot and a four hour wait later no one knows what's wrong with my stomach or why I've put on about ten pounds in the last month or why by 8pm I look six months pregnant.  I should of stayed in Albany and run my five miles. It would of been cheaper and I'd probably feel better!

Because four hours in the doctor's office wasn't enough, we went to get Zeke a phone. While we were there my husband got me an Up band to see if that will provide some insights into my health. It's a cool gadget and now I don't have to deplete my cell phone battery when I run. Super excited to try it out tomorrow when I do my five miles because in 174 days it will be tracking my first marathon! I'll keep y'all posted on how it worked tomorrow!

The Marathon Journey Begins:180 Days of Full Crazy

There are 180 days until the Albany Marathon. There are 180 days before I earn a coveted 26.2 sticker for my car. There are 180 days before I run a marathon in our new home town. There are 180 days full of self doubt that I can run a marathon. There are 180 days of training ahead to counter the self doubt that I'm going to run a marathon (for real this time)!

This time is different. I have taken steps to ensure I will make it to the start line and to the finish line. I have joined a training group for the Albany Marathon. I put my money where my feet shall go by joining this group. My first run was Saturday and I'm with group six (my favorite number). The race director is in my group and she is very reassuring this is the perfect first marathon! None of the people in the group look like elite runners, all have jobs and kids so, if they can do it so can I!

The course is flat and actually runs down our new street. It will take me five, ten minutes tops to get to the starting line and even shorter to get home. There's a seven hour time limit which sounds just about right. Friends and family can come cheer me on then come back to our new house to celebrate the fact I will no longer be a marathon hopeful, but a marathon completer!

180 days is a school year away and I've done pleanty of school years! I'll be posting updates on my training for the next 180 days if your interested in watching me be full crazy instead of half crazy!  Wish me luck!

Its Been Awhile

I'm home for the weekend! That doesn't sound like a big deal, but this is the first week I "lived" in south Georgia.  The rest of the family stayed behind at our house in Griffin. The three hour one way drive to work was getting exhausting so we had to do something, and that something was me renting a room in Camilla until we close on our new house in south Georgia.

My husband changed shifts to a weekend shift so the children were not unsupervised. I call every night to check in, but its been awhile since my husband and I have spent more than a night apart. Try like 11 years that we have gone with seeing each other everyday.  The longest stint away might have been three days tops. Poor thing, he has the hard job here at home with the kids. I just miss them and worry, which come to think of it, its been awhile since I've had to worry that the house will still be standing upon my return!

I'm enjoying the new things I'm learning as an assistant principal, but its also been awhile since I've done my typical hobbies. Writing, running, baking and knitting are rarely happening. I'm busy from 7am to 5pm and then I'm tired and ready for a nap by 8.  Is this what it feels like to get old, or is it just adjusting to all the changes?

We are hoping that by Labor Day we will all be settled in south Georgia and that it will be awhile before we're seperated again!

Tired of it All

Usually I just suffer through migraine attacks without too much complaint. Other than having to tell the kids to be quiet,  I manage to hold down a job and keep things running around here. The maxalt I took during an attack allowed me to function without too many side effects, that was until I became allergic to it this week. Another $65.00 copay and $40.00 in prescriptions later I feel horrible laying down in a dark room! I'm tired of migraines! I've had enough of them and all the things they entail!

I'm tired of the drugs that don't work. The new med-toradel did nothing for the migraine. The fact that I know have to take a stomach med and watch for rectal bleeding because of the toradel and aleve I take for the migraines makes me nervous. The living in a haze side effects of the seizure med and the toradel diminish the quality of my life to such an extent, I wonder if it would be better to just suffer through until I pass out from the pain! I'm tired of paying money I really don't have, on meds that don't work, only to be told that there are more expensive meds that I'll be injecting into myself. Yes, that's right folks, if the toradel doesn't work there are no more pills to take, just injections. I would prefer to not look like a junkie, or have to carry needles around everywhere with me!

I'm tired of holding my breath at the faintest hint of perfume, body odor, mold and cleaning products. I'm tired of having to read the label of everything I eat to check for possible migraine triggers. I'm tired of having to decide if my trigger load is low enough to eat one item on my bad for migraine list. I'm tired of logging the weather, my food and my migraine symptons and durations.  In fact, I'm tired of having to tell people I'm on a diet, that I can't drink alcohol of any kind, or about the evils of florescent lighting that drive me to wear my sun glasses inside.

I'm tired of being jealous of people that don't battle migraines like I do! I'd like to be a normal person too! I'm tired of feeling like a burden to my family because they rarely get the best of me. I'm tired of missing time with my husband due to migraine, or the strict sleep schedule that needs to be maintained in an effort to reduce the frequency and intensity of migraines. I'm tired of being afraid to plan activities because the weather channel says its going to rain. I'm tired of worrying if today I'll have the intellectual capacity to be a wife, mother and productive member of society! I'm tired of being in constant pain and feeling guilty that I don't get to share me with the people I love because of the pain.

Most of all I'm tired of how pathetic it sounds to be so tired of living with migraines! I frequently have people remind me there are worse things to have. I'm sure there are, but that doesn't make me want to flip them off any less when they say it! Most people don't understand that its not a simple headache. Even people with episodic migraines have a hard time believing that in three years I have only had 102 migraine free days. The longest stretch without a migraine was 20 days. That's truly pathetic! I'm tired of the lack of research for a condition that effects millions and most of all I'm tired of being a person living with migraines!

There Back

Migraine, migraine go away my Lili is having a birthday today! For almost two weeks I've been battling my migraines and it sucks! I was hoping they had left after only having three last month, but no such lyck! Some of the problem maybe days like today.I drove a total of six hours to and from my new job, planned professional learning, partially dealt with my broken car, and a few other minor issues as the day progressed. To say I don't have time to be laying in bed, in the dark with my head packed in ice is an understatement! It also didn't help to have another allergic reaction to my abortive med and because the doctor left early I'm told to take nothing and suffer until the first available appointment (which is Friday)!

Did I mention I started a new job too? In South Georgia I'm not sure how up to date they are with migraine treatment. Today I had to explain florescent lighting really isn't my thing and while I'm usually pretty cool, I'm pretty sure the new assistant principal should not be wearing her sunglasses inside! One of the secertaries noticed I brought a lamp for my desk and I was essentially working in the dark, so she brought me a floor lamp for the office when I explained to her what was going on with my head. Sweetest thing ever! Lunch brought a new set of woes. Explaining to new people that I'm on a strict diet and under no circumstances can I eat Chinese food and a host of other things most people put in their mouths daily is always a fun way to spend a lunch time.

My new school seems to be handling this migraine thing pretty well. Everyone is pretty accommodating and very interested in my treatment plan. Now if I could get some new meds asap so I could celebrate my boy's birthday that would be AWESOME!

The Smell

I spent today at a fabulous conference.  I was learning a lot, meeting interesting people and generally having a good time. I was having a good time until I was stuck in a medium sized banquet room with a lady who had on enough perfume for six French whores! No matter where I moved I could not escape the odor of flower toliet water, which meant my overly sensitive neurons processed a migraine in rapid time. Not a "Hey, I'll be arriving shortly, you might want to take something migraine! " but a "WTH were you thinking slam,bam, thank you ma'm migraine!" Complete with drooping face and other stroke like symptoms. Great fun when your in Atlanta with a couple thousand people you don't know.

Since leaving the room with my droopy face, impaired vision and poor motor control really wasn't an option, I took four of whatever pain killer I had handy and chased it with a coke that a nice football coach handed me when he moved to the back corner to escape the fumes, opps I mean perfume. I offered my pain killer to the coach in appreciation of the coke which he thanked me for. After the hour presentation and the Aleve kicking in some we left the room together discussing migraine triggers. Who knew you could find another migraine suffer at a conference because of someone choosing to bathe in perfume?

He was a very nice man, but I was interested in how he spotted me in the back and knew that I would benefit from a coke. His response? "I watched you move three times before you got to the back and figured you were either the most indecisive person in the world, or I wasn't the only person whose head was pounding from that God awful smell! Besides, my mom always does that rub the sides of her head thing when a migraine hits. She always had me bring her some aspirin and a coke when she got a headache.  Your pocketbook looked too big not to have some aspirin so I took a chance!"

What can I say but thank God for carrying a large pocketbook and a mom who trained her son well!

Pre Peachtree

It's the night before the Peachtree and rain is in the forecast.  My gears laid out, my MARTA pass bought, and my number affixed to my belt. My official start time is 8:18, and the elites will be done before I start, but there are no worries or fears because there will be people ahead of me and people behind me! 60, 000 runners will come together for a 6.2 course and the celebration of being free to run on the streets of Atlanta!

I'll be up at 4am, on the train by six and at the start by seven (yes that's am). I'll run walk 6.2 miles, pick up the coveted race tee, and head home for a red white and blue cake for breakfast. I'll finish the afternoon with a nap, wake up to make fried chicken and mac and cheese then watch the Pops on PBS. Not a bad way to spend a day where we celebrate our great country and the freedoms we have!

(A big thank you to my supportive husband who will be looking for a dry spot to take a nap while I'm running!)

Happy Fourth!

Facebook Faux Pas

Let me start by saying that I know my husband loves me, but courtesy of Facebook my allusion that he only had eyes for me has been shattered. Before this age of instant communication and global connection, there wasn't a record of every stupid thing you said or looked at. With Facebook and similar networking sites there is a record of deeds documented for all the world to see and if you're friends with your spouse (which I think you should be) you see them too!

So, my husband commented on another woman's Facebook page about liking her new haircut.  I know this is soooo high school, but when it showed up on my newsfeed that he liked her long hair my feelings were hurt. I don't know this woman, she's not a mutual friend but a video game blogger who probably has a lot more in common with him then I do. The only video game I play is Candy Crush and I fail to understand the draw to rpg/mmo, or whatever the hell they call those create a character and go on quest games with people you don't know.

If this had happened in real life, I (a) would not have been present to know he'd made such a comment or (b) been present and given him "the look" where he would of responded with one of two things: I'm beautiful or I'm the only one for him. Both go a long way in soothing ruffled feathers, but Facebook doesn't allow for such interactions so I got my feathers ruffled. This would be a Facebook faux pas that I'm positive my husband will roll his eyes and tell me I'm being ridiculous,  which is probably true.

I could unfriend my husband on Facebook so I didn't need to see such posts. I could spend the next two years growing out my hair since he "liked" long hair in his comment but tells me he likes mine short. I could learn to play whatever video game he's playing but realistically that would probably take another five years to learn and I can think of about a hundred other things I'd rather learn! What will happen is I'll tell my husband it hurt my feelings for no real good reason, workout and go on a diet to address my own insecurities and shop for a new outfit that I can post onto Facebook so my dear husband can comment away in a wife appoved way!

Stop Pissing on the Parade

I wish people would stop pissing on my parade!  I use the word pissing because you can still have a parade in the rain, maybe not as much fun as having a parade on a sunny day but you can enjoy splashing in the puddles. No body likes getting pissed on, especially if you're trying to have a parade! Pissing on a parade is when you're incessant on being negative no matter what! Post allergic reaction day I have little tolerance with pissers!

Today's parade started with a call to the doctor.  Let's start with the doctor deciding to ditch all my meds due to the allergic reaction and the strong suggestion that I complete a migraine detox diet. When she asked about magenisum, I told her I haven't been taking it which resulted in a lecture on the importance of diet and migraine triggers, and a book I should read about migraine (like I haven't read enough already).Besides, she said the diet could cause me to lose a little weight and who doesn't want to lose some weight! What a pisser thing to say!

I went to the book store next to get the book where the suggested diet is located. I swear its a racket. Pretty sure the doc will get a kickback from my purchase. As the clerk was looking for the book an older lady, holding a Glen Beck book and searching for a book on poetry decided to give me her ten dollars worth on migraine. I hate poetry so I should of known this was about to get ugly. The poetry had to be a sign! The lady just asked me if I had migraines and then went on a lecture with me and the clerk about how nothing works for migraines. The older lady told me point blank not to waste my money on the book and that I should be on a vegetarian gluten free diet! Swear to God she pissed on my parade for a good ten minutes! The clerk apologized but any positive attitude I might have had was rapidly being depleted.

The book isn't that bad, the diet well its a pisser too! Really not sure what I'm going to eat? The no caffine thing and no chocolate thing could just get ugly...fast!

The last pisser on my parade today was my loving husband. Before my dear husband left for work he had to piss on today's parade too so, I guess I should of scheduled my parade for a different day! My husband pisding on my parade was troubling because he's always been a big fan of anything I do, but apparently my knitting was cause to piss on today's parade. He took exception to the fact that I'm knitting scarfs when we live in Georgia! Really? What does my knitting scarfs in 90 degree hurt? I'm just preparing for global warming and fall fashion trends. Besides, I only know one stitch and can't knit truely useful items like sweaters and socks! That's a pisser too!

I guess I can try again tomorrow, but I hear its supposed to rain!

Hives Oh My

I have chronic migraine and until this weekend I was having a pretty good run. Three wonderful months where I averaged seven migraines a month. This sounds like a lot, but when your use to 25-30 days a month you praise Jesus and do a happy dance. I have been in treatment for about two years. I'm supposed to take a high risk seizure med as a preventive measure, Maxalt when I get a migraine and Aleve if I feel one coming on. On a bad day I'm looking at about 15 pills. I use to take Imetrex for the actual migraine attack but six months ago I was maxing out the dosage and developed an allergic reaction.

At first I didn't really think I was having an allergic reaction to the Imetrex. At a visit with the nero I asked if it was a possiblity for your throat to swell during a migraine attack. The doc went ballistic talking about how I could of died and should of gone straight to the emergency room. The fact I treated myself with some benadryl and called it a day was apparently the wrong choice. My meds were switched to Maxalt which is in the tripitan family but different than the Imetrex with the hope I didn't have another allergic reaction.

Fast foward to today and holy allergic reaction! I'm use to the swelling throat thing and I'm careful to take the Maxalt only in the prescence of others who can call 911 if I can't breathe. Apparently, hives take a little longer to appear. 15 minutes after the husband leaves for work if we're timing it.  At first I thought I might have a bug bite, but after careful searching there are no bug bites. I knew I was in trouble when my face, head, legs, back and arms started to itch. When I scratch you can see the hives but my nice running tan makes them hard to see in the darkened house (I'm still light sensitive from the migraine). I would take some Benadryl, but I can't find any in the house, of course! So, I'm sitting here itching, waiting for True Blood to come on and waiting for these hives to go away!

The Child of Which We Don't Speak

Four years ago, Ezekiel (Zeke), my second born decided that he did not want to be a part of a big family and chose to live with his biological father.  His reasoning at the time was that he was tired of sharing his stuff and having to share attention.  His biological father also has a lot more money and a lot less kids so, the prospect of having some new cool stuff didn't hurt in a ten year old's decision making process at the time.  I did not handle the situation well when  Zeke told me that he wanted to go live with his dad.  I was neither supportive, or understanding of his decision.  I point blank told Zeke that he would be changing his relationship with me and the rest of his family forever and I thought it was a big mistake, but I let him make that decision.

Zeke lived with his dad for four years.  I figured that was where he would remain.  I picked him up every other weekend, called on important dates, had him two weeks in the summer, and scheduled birthday celebrations around his visitation.  Stephen the oldest called Zeke a traitor for leaving, Josie didn't mind, and Elijah and Colin gave him coolest brother around title because he always came home with cool stuff.  When people asked how many kids I had a still told them 5, but I thought I was being a little dishonest because Zeke didn't live with us.  His picture was on my desk and because he wasn't at my athletic or school events the students would ask if he really existed.

Fast forward to February of this year.  Zeke asked if he could come home to go to high school.  I was just as surprised when he asked to come back home as I was when he asked to go live with his dad.  Zeke tried to be diplomatic under my cross examination, but because he was not as familiar with my techniques he broke in five minutes.  His siblings were shocked that he didn't last very long under interrogation and I was a little shocked too.  Zeke disclosed that he was sad and lonely and that nobody really understood him at his dad's.  We spent an hour talking about how different life was now from when he left and he still wanted to come back home.  Part of me was happy and another part of me was mad.  The happy go lucky child I dropped off  four years ago was a sad, angry teenager who wanted to come back home.  I figured his father would say no Zeke couldn't come home, but he was more than willing to let Zeke come back home.  As the months got closer to Zeke permanently coming back home, more information was disclosed at what a mess Zeke really was.  Every visitation a new disclosure of a problem was made.  Some normal and some very serious.  Of course he was a mess and honestly I was mad that I was getting to play clean up, but unlike the irrational, emotional reaction I had four years ago when Zeke left, this time I handled it better (plus I have a whole summer to retrain and since we are moving everyone is in a state of change).

People are getting to meet the child of which we didn't speak of, including me and the rest of the family.  Zeke has arrived a virtual stranger to a strange land.  Spending a weekend here is no where near what it is like to live here everyday.  There have been growing pains.  Zeke is used to having his own space and being by himself.  That doesn't happen here unless your in the bathroom and even that is not a guarantee.  Everyone else in the house is well versed in seizures and migraine plans and Zeke is definitely not.  The utter fear he can get in his face when Elijah or I have a seizure would be comical if he wasn't so scared.  Zeke has yet to adopt the family motto of "have a seizure and carry on"!  Access to food has been interesting and he appears to enjoy the baking and home cooked meals that are not gluten free, or chosen based on healthy food status. Navigating the limited resources in a large family with siblings who are prone to physical retaliation has been a learning process for a otherwise smart kid.  Apparently living in a very affluent family did not teach Zeke how to defend himself and not to pick fights with the family brawlers (Elijah and Josie have both had turns at showing Zeke that size doesn't always matter).  My second son has lots of book sense, but were working on the common sense.  He's prone to over reacting, can be a real smart ass and is use to be sent to his room when he's difficult.  All things that don't happen around here because I'm the only one allowed to behave like that because I pay the bills! (Joking, but not too much).

We are trying to re-integrate Zeke into the family, which has required a lot of patience and explaining by everyone.  Elijah has reviewed seizure plans.  Colin has reviewed food and bedtime schedules.  Josie has reviewed chores and bathroom procedures.  There has been watching of shows where I let the younger kids explain how mom will react if Zeke engages in such behavior.  Zeke has been assigned chores and given his own room until we move.  Since it's summer, I've given the kids a little more access to electronics than during school, which gives Zeke hero status with his younger siblings. Zeke helped with the selection of the house and school choices were made considering his gifted academic status.  We are trying to make sure that Zeke feels like a member of the family before we move to a new town where he'll have no choice but to claim being part of this crazy clan. He'll have to learn to keep calm and Gagnon on! Besides, now that he's here full time, we speak about him all the time, so he might as well jump into the conversation!

Father's Day

It's Father's day and Facebook and Twitter have homages galore to dads. There are also shout outs to single moms who are attempting to be mom and dad and this is interesting to me as I have been a child of a single mom and for a brief time I was a single mom and did not find that my mom, or myself could do both rolls.

I had a great father and although he passed when I was ten, he left his mark on me. He was not a perfect man. My dad had a short temper, he was overly neat, and was a task master. He was also a family man who was dedicated to his girls. I treasure the time and lessons that he was able to share with me. His absence in my life has had a profound effect that even a mother's love couldn't fill!

My mother never tried to take up my dad's responsibilities. I think she knew she couldn't fill his shoes. Besides, she had her own shoes to fill. When I contemplated divorcing my first husband,  I worried about the own void my children could feel with the absence of their father. There was a strong need to try to be both mom and dad to the kids, as their father chose not to have frequent contact with the kids. For the first couple of years, I struggled to process why the x didn't want more involvement with the kids and how much involvement I really wanted him to have with the kids. It was an interesting place to live.

At some point, a therapist looked at me and said, "You can't be mom and dad! Your kids will make their own conclusion and relationships with their dad. You just need to be supportive and encourage your children to take opportunities to bond with their father." It was good advice. It has brought peace and understanding to me. The therapist was right. The older kids have their own thoughts about their biological father. They instinctively filled in their father's absence with their step father and other male figures in their lives.

Father's Day is a nice day to recognize the male influence in your life (no matter who provides it). While I know I can't be mom and dad, I hope I have taught my kids to appreciate and be thankful for the men in their lives.

My Little Girl Isn't Little Anymore

I have only one daughter and most days that's enough! I have never been big on pink and frilly, but Josie can be a nice change of pace from her testosterone enduced siblings. As she has grown up I have tried to keep the frilly girlie girl to a minimum,  but my little girl still likes zebra print and purple, and if I let her she would probably wear make up and ball gowns daily. Until recently, she has been fairly easy to raise! When dealing with Josie I trade rough and tough athletics for artsy diva. Its a nice change of pace usially.

The last year has been a year of growth for Josie. She turned 13 in April and informed me she wasn't a little girl anymore, but a full blown teenager. My husband rolled his eyes and told me to have fun. It is not fun, and to people who tell me it is you're lying, or your daughter was from another planet!

The daily drama of living with a teen girl is tiresome. 13 was not a fun age for me and it doesn't appear to be all that fun for Josie either. Explaining that you need to shave your arm pits was a talk I'd prefer not to ever have again as well as the pads versus tampons discussion that my husband told me to have fun with! We have also had our share of "I don't care what your friend ------(substitute has, is doing, is wearing or allowed to do) you're not conversations! The things her peers do, wear and are allowed to engage in make me look ancient and unreasonable many times to Josie! I have a feeling that will continue for a few more years!

It hasn't been all bad. I finally have someone to watch "Say Yes to the Dress" with as well as Bridezilla. These are in preparation for Josie's big day which I have been informed will be a VERY big day! Josie and I can now share most of our clothes. One of the pictures attached is Josie today, wearing my bikini from last year! She's definitely not a little girl anymore and the way the high school boys looked at her on the beach...well its good that she has 4 brothers, or my husband can have fun with that!

What's All The Fuss

I just finished reading an article about a professional football player from the Cowboys who adopted a daughter. Apparently,  there's been some backlash because the football player and his wife are black and the baby is white. I read some rather ignorant comments posted about the situation then clicked on the next link about the bi-racial cheerios commercial. Again,  there were some more ignorant comments. I had to go back and reread the article and watch the ad because, to be honest I really didn't see what the big fuss was for either because the color of a persons skin doesn't really factor into my concept of family.

For those of you who don't know, my youngest sister is black. Because my mom adopted her when I was 15 there were plenty of people who thought she was mine. We have even had people tell us we look alike. (As you can tell by the picture the chances of us being genetically related are not high). The comments that both of us have overheard over the last 22 years are not any less shocking than some I have read today.  Here's a sampling of the comments with my usual responses (my sister is the quiet one and is better at ignoring stupidity than I am, but I know she's had to respond to these too).

1. "You two aren't really related!"  - really because our birth certificates have the same mom and dad on them so, last time I looked if you have the same mom and dad you're related.

2. "There's no way a white family could teach a black child about their culture!" - and what culture are you specifically talking about?  We are American, she's American, we're all American! Plus we've taught her to read, and taken her on trips and watched Roots with her. We even have access to professors of African-American studies! If she has questions we've taught her to ask and seek answers and that includes more than her culture!

3. "Aren't you worried her birthmother will come back?" - she hasn't made an appearnce yet! Her birthmother picked our family because her and I were so much alike and she wanted her daughter to be loved and taken cared of. My sister has always known she was adopted, she knows who her birth parents are and if she ever wanted to find them we'd help her because thats what you do for family!

4. "There's no way that you'll be able to take care of her hair because white people don't understand ethnic hair!" - We can pay to take her to a salon for her hair, you'll always be ugly!

5. "At some point she'll resent that you took her away from her people and she'll have nothing to do with you!" - Who resents who here? Do you resent that a child has a safe,loving home, or are you resentful because your own ignorance and prejudice have prevented you from loving others!

As you can see from the picture my sissy is turning out okay despite having a white family. She's got a degree and a job in social work. She has a variety of friends both black and white. She's fairly well adjusted and I'm proud to have her as my sister (even if she's my mom's favorite)! My kids love their Auntie and don't think twice about what color she is.  Until today, I really didn't think the color of your skin dictated the live of your family, and you know what? I still don't! 

Stop your fussing!

We're Moving

Many of you that see me every day know that I will no longer be a special ed teacher.  I accepted a position as an assistant principal at a high school in Southwest Georgia.  Think Heat of the Night, Dukes of Hazards and add a chicken processing plant and that's where I'll be trying my hand at being an assistant principal.  I'm excited for the new opportunity and my husband is relieved that I'm finally putting seven years of education to work!  As my new adventure in education is three hours away, it has necessitated a move for the entire family.  While the office, lap top and pay raise were all cool. the rest of the family was a little less than impressed that we are going to be moving.  This is how it breaks down on the opinion to move:

Stephen: Senior year, as long as I get to wrestle, whatever (yes we are moving to a district where he can wrestle, but more on that later)

Zeke: Freshmen, doesn't care because it was all going to be new to him anyway!

Josie: Eighth grade is worried about possibly sharing a room, but willing to make new friends that don't take medication.

Elijah: Since we picked the house that he liked he's okay as long as the new school doesn't make a big deal about his seizures.

Colin: Looking forward to new people to charm.

And the biggest kid of them all..... my husband.....

Excited that our new house will have central air, not thrilled about a three bedroom house with all these kids and researching a tractor for the acre of land that the house is on.

That leaves one person left, me and I'm frankly overwhelmed at the process of buying and moving.  The first time I bought a house I was pregnant and my ex-husband handled the details.  I just directed where I wanted stuff put.  The second time I bought a house, I was pregnant and Brian handled all the packing.  I just paid for the house and directed where I wanted stuff.  This time it's different.  Brian is working and even though we are not moving until August 2, I have to pack and organize the move on top of all the paper work.

Right now I'm at the point where I'm willing to take the dining room table, kitchen ware, beds and clothes, the TV, and the computers and leave the rest in Griffin until my brain can process all the change.  I know that  probably isn't what's' going to happen, but a girl can dream right!

A Day at the Lake

I am currently sitting by the lake watching my kids swim. Actually, I'm sitting under some pine trees, being eaten by bugs, watching my kids swim, and people watching. This lake is part of the state park system of Georgia. The same state park system that I buy a yearly pass to so my kids can enjoy nature and I can enjoy watching our eclectic society!

I'm feeling a little behind the times here.You see, I'm not wearing a swim suit. Yes, I know its odd to take the kids to the beach with no intention of getting in the water, but at 80 degrees its still a little cold for me to brave a spring fed lake. Additionally, I'm a little self conscious about how I look in a swim suit. I'm ten pounds from my "ideal" weight, and in all my current swimsuits either boobs, or butt, or both hang out. My running tan lines and five kid stretch marks don't help my swimsuit confidence either. My darling husband has pointed out none of these insecurties should be a worry of mine at this establishment.

He has a valid point! First, there is visible proof of why the southeast is the heaviest in the US, and they're all wearing two pieces. Second, there are also tramp stamps galore! Shoulder tatoos too (and these are women in my age bracket). Did I miss a fashion memo that tatoos are now a required fashion accessory, because if they are I'm going to be out of fashion for a long time! Lastly, a number of these overweight,  tatted, mothers are also smoking, which is always unflattering in my book!

The kids are having a good time. Hopefully,  there having a good enough time that they go to sleep early and I can shop for a nice, flattering one piece for our next beach adventure!

My Choice To Have It All

http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/health-and-families/health-news/the-myth-of-the-modern-dad-exposed-new-book-claims-men-still-wont-sacrifice-their-careers-for-fatherhood-8622285.html

The above article link talks about the "myth" of the modern dad. The mythical modern dad is an equal parenting partner. He changes diapers, does feedings, attends school functions and regularly enjoys spending time with his children above all else.  Earlier in the day I also I read an article from Rebecca Walker who was discussing the damage done to her by her famous author/feminist mother Alice Walker. The damage was caused by the feminist notion that children enslave women and do not allow women to reach fulfillment. Both articles brought me to a state of early Sunday morning reflection on my own life path.

I was raised in a quasi feminist house. I was also raised in a quasi traditional house. Upon my reflection on my own adult choices I see the influence of both schools of thought. My mother was a college educated teacher from the south and my father was a working class,union president from New England. For the first eight years of my life my mom stayed at home. She cooked, she cleaned, she knit, she did needle work. My father was a pipefitter. He got up early, went to work, ate supper, read us a story and went to bed. If I got sick in the middle of the night my dad came. If I needed something to eat my mom came.

I never thought of their roles as feminine or masculine.  They naturally did what they did best. When I decided to build a tree house, play baseball or build an ice rink, my father participated and assisted with those activities. When I decided to bake, decorate a room or write a story, my mother participated and assisted with those activities. My parents participated and assisted my sister and I with activities based on what they were good at. My mom didn't enjoy outside activities and was not athletically inclined so she didn't do those activities with me. When my father got sick with lung cancer my mom went to work and my dad took over household duties. They were a team.

When my dad died my mom tried to have a career and family, but without my dad as her teammate some decidedly mascline chores fell to me. My mom also became more involved with her career the older we got. I doubt its a feminist move on her part but more a I miss my partner move.

Watching my parents and later my mother, I figured I could have a family and a fulfilling career. I can "have it all!" The trick wasn't having a feminist mentality that I didn't need a man, or that I can do anything a man can do.  The tricks have been finding a husband/partner whose willing to help and pick up my slack, knowing when its time to put the job down and pick the family up, and knowing that investing a little back into me makes me an all around better person. I have made a choice to balance family and career. Is it easy? No, but I'd hate not working and having children has been a truly positive life changing experience.  Both help define who I am and the balancing act to have it all is worth it.

Courageous? If You Have The Money

The news today has been littered with stories of how courageous Angelina Jolie was in going public with her decision to have a double mastectomy because she has a cancer gene. At the risk of hurting some truly courageous people who have fought and are fighting cancer I do not believe her decision, as difficult as it was, was couragerous. It was a decision she could make because she could afford to! What a great option to have!

Most Americans, if they went to their doctors and asked for such a procedure could not pay for it out of pocket, or get their insurance companies to fund it.  The media as a whole has neglected to discuss the issue of affordable healthcare.  Does America have the best health care in the world? Yes! Do most Americans have access to the best healthcare in the world? No!

Courageous to me would be if Angelina Jolie had come out and offered to fund some mastecomies for women who will never have the money, or healthcare to have such a life saving operation. Courageous to me would be if such a famous person would use her media stature to draw attention, raise money, or give public service announcements for cancer treatments and research.  Courageous to me are all the cancer fighters who fought insurance companies while fighting for their lives! Angelina Jolie was as courageous as her money allowed her to be!

Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day! I've been reading wonderful tributes to mothers everywhere today and they are very touching, which in turn makes me a little touchy on the topic of motherhood. I obviously have a mother. I even attached a picture so you can see the similarities. By most people's account my mom has done a good job. I should serve as evidence of her undying love and sacrifice to her children.  I have a bunch of degrees, a large family which I support in the same field she has been in for over thirty years. My children are fed and happy most days. By most accounts I'm a good teacher like her, but if you scratch the surface just a little you'll see an entirely different picture.

My mom always made sure I had the stuff I needed. She never hit me. She wasn't over bearing, but she really wasn't mentally present in my life. If she couldn't throw money,or stuff at it, she didn't know what to do when it came to me. Cool when you're a kid; not so cool when you're an adult with kids of your own and a lack of financial resources to parent in such a way. I lacked a viable mother example for the situation I was in as a young mother. Hopefully, the therapy I've paid for over the years for my oldest has overcome this.

You see, my mom likes to save things and I never really needed saving. My independent nature is an inheritance from her. I'm not good with being told what to do (inheritance from my dad) and we never really jived. There's not lots of pictures with just me and my mom. I was more a Daddy's girl and when he got cancer I was forced into a parental role for my younger sister. I was encouraged to be mentally strong and useful so, that was my child hood. I had adult responsibility and my mom treated me like an adult from the age of ten.

I'm strong and resourceful thanks to my mom. My strong survival nature is a direct result of her parenting.  For that I'm grateful! I'm sure she did the best she could with what she had (namely me). When I was younger, I use to tell people I raised myself. I now know that's untrue because my oldest likes to say the same thing to me and I KNOW the parenting effort that has gone into him!

The wonderful tributes everyone is making to there mothers today, well I wish I could make one too, but our relationship doesn't work that way. She doesn't tell me she loves me. She doesn't tell me she's proud of me. She assumes I know and is uncomfortable if I bring such things up so, I don't. I have been blessed with some other mother figures that filled in the gaps. I hope my kids find such people to fill in their gaps. Being a mom is hard work. I know that now that I have kids of my own. I parent different than my mom did in hopes of getting a wonderful tribute when they are older. As for a wonderful tribute to my mom, I can say this: Thanks for trying your best! Most days I'm a happy, well adjusted, productive member of society and without my mom I wouldn't be!

Shocked and Proud at the Same Time

There's lots of things I could write about in light of this week's events in Boston and I will at a later date, but what just happened in my living room with my daughter's friend, who is spending the night shocked me and made me proud at the same time.  See my daughter's friend doesn't think races should mix. When this statement came out of her mouth I was shocked a seventh grader in this day and age would have such an archaic opinion about people. Apparently my daughter failed to tell her friend that her aunt, my sister is black. No one has told the poor girl that Elijah, Stephen and Zeke all have close friends that are "minorities." No one told the girl that my school children are predominantly minorities and I encourage my personal children to view them as family too. No one told the girl that she attends a school and lives in a community where she is the minority!

Like all parents I wonder if I've done a good job instilling knowledge and values that I find important (like bathing, wearing clean underware, tolerance, and patience when dealing with ignorance).  Its not that my kids don't know that racism exisit, they do. Its not that I don't know that people raise their kids with some racist ideology, I do. Its the fact that I wanted confirmation that my children don't share this little girl's ignorant views on inter racial interactions. Confirmation I got! Here are summaries of my children's responses to the little girl.

Elijah:  Well isn't she ignorant! Obviously she hasn't watched a lot of tv or noticed that white people are not always a majority.

Colin: Ummmm my aunt is black, my mom's volleyball team is black and I wouldn't like not being able to mix with them. If I was brown then you wouldn't associate with me and I could have the tv to myself. Mom how can I get browner?

Josie: I don't care what color my husband is as long as he's rich and loves me! (Okay, so I have some work to do with the materialistic nature of Josie's views on marriage).

So I'm proud my kids don't have racist viewpoints. At least I've accomplished something!

Engaging in the Dish Battle

After spending the last two hours of mind numbing health assessments for the insurance company, I am currently "supervising" my darling daughter doing the dishes, AT 945PM!  This has become an almost daily battle with her and she is a master procrastinator! Here's Josie's top 5 current attempts at avoiding dishes and engaging in battle with mom!

1. I have never seen someone so young need to use the bathroom so much when it is time to do the dishes.  She pees more than a woman having twins and only when she has to do the dishes.  I have counted twelve trips to the rest room from the time that she started the dishes to the time that I told her she could no longer use the rest room until the dishes were done!  Must be the water she isn't running when she is proclaiming how unfair it is that her only chore is doing the dishes that causes such bladder issues!

2. Three hours ago I learned that the dishwasher (that's as old as she is) has a plate warming feature!  Imagine that, plate warming!  Back in my day we called that the drying cycle and it did not impede our ability to unload the dishwasher and reload all the stuff that you were not planning on washing by hand.  Why we would need a plate warmer when everyone eats cereal or pop tarts 12 hours later for breakfast is beyond me, but apparently the plate warmer feature can't be disturbed?

3. 8:45 and 9:45 are about the same time!  Never mind that the girl is gifted in math and can add and subtract in her head faster than I can punch numbers in the calculator!  The time space continuum is only disrupted when Josephine has to do the dishes!

4. Josie has testing next week!  Really, state testing versus dishes?  Next WEEK?!  This impacts getting the dishes done tonight how?  Yeah!  She really couldn't answer that question either, but I can!  It does not and it will not effect testing next week either!  If testing is that important than said smarty pants daughter will make sure that the dishes are done before 8pm, the stated bed time that she has requested for next week. Oh and mom will remember that she requested such an early bed time!

5. Doing dishes is unfair labor practices because Josie's primary job is going to school and making good grades so she can go to Mercer!  I like how she throws the old Alma Mater in there.  Despite being informed that Josie will be paying for college all by herself and could probably use a skill such as dish washing to cover her $40,000 a year in tuition costs to go to Mercer, Josie feels that focusing solely on her academics is her best bet to becoming a Bear like mom.

I know that I will have to go put half the dishes that she is washing by hand back into the sink for her to redo because she half washed them thinking: One, no one would check and Two, mom wouldn't dare make her food in dirty bowls, pots or pans!  She isn't without resources and has proposed on numerous occasions possible solutions to the dish dilema.  Here are Josie's solutions to the daily dish battle:
1. Everyone take care of their own dishes.
2. Colin do the dishes
3. Mom do the dishes
4. Everyone can stop eating so much so no one will have to do the dishes
5. Hire a maid to do the dishes
At least she has some possible solutions to her avoidance behaviors, but her mother just won't fund or let Josie implement any of her solutions.  Apparently doing dishes makes it a rough life, but the dish battle will wage on until 2018- the year Josephine graduates high school!  Please wish her luck and pray for the avoidance of nuclear warfare from mom!  Thanks!

Lesson Plan: Survival

The average special education teacher lasts five years, I have been a special education teacher for 16.  This probably means one of two things: I'm either a very dedicated educator, or I'm a little slow on the uptake.  If I'm being honest it's probably a little of both!  I have a PhD and the certification to teacher regular education and be an administrator, which according to some people makes be a little over qualified for my current career.  I teach cross categorical special education, which means that students with health impairments  mental health issues, intellectual disabilities, behavior issues, autism and learning disabilities come to me for assistance with learning, or their behavior.

I have a soft spot for bad ass little boys who can't control their anger and will cuss anyone out in a ten mile vicinity, which is probably not a surprise to many people.  I also have a soft spot for little girls that will do the same, but there not at prevalent!  I have a deep appreciation for people that struggle within the norms of society, which probably is not a surprise either.  I usually enjoy what I do and I have been very successful at it, which is a surprise to some people.  I know that I'm good at what I do because two of my former students are now teachers themselves and have told me I was a great influence in their decision.  I have had countless parents stop and tell me thank you for getting their kids through high school.  Now that I have been teaching for almost twenty years, I even have some former students who ask where I'm teaching so that they can make sure that their kids get me as a teacher.

As experienced and good as I am, the nature of the week before a break is SURVIVAL!  Don't believe me?  Ask any teacher and they will tell you that children lose their minds the week before break!  Kids don't feel compelled to work, they are antsy to get out of school and in case you are wondering....teachers are too!  If all hell is going to break out is is going to be the week before a break.  That's the kind of week that I'm having and so are many of my other co workers.  Girl drama, verbal altercations, tardies to class, medical emergencies, lost work, crying for no apparent reason, tests, major projects due that students wait until the day before to finish....these have all been part of my week and it's only Tuesday.

Today I was observed, in the midst of assisting one of my students in calling a parent for the fifth time to come pick up her kid who wasn't feeling well.  My administration came to see me teach the week before a break, unannounced! I didn't have essential questions or what we were doing on the board yet because I had spent the first period sorting out a behavioral mess with an assistance principal and second period sorting out some girl drama and tending to the ailing student.  Did I mention that my room is a mess due to having to relocate all the volleyball equipment for construction?  My students were great, just needed reminders that yes we were indeed going to write a four paragraph essay of Africa.  All things considered I think everything went smashingly well.  Then the email hit asking for a lesson plan for today. Really?  I need to find this during survival week?  I haven't sat since I walked in the door.  I appreciate the fact that administration was willing to wait until after 5pm to receive the documents (all 49 pages of them).  The professional in me turned in the plans.  The person with a soft spot for bad ass little boys and girls wanted to put some colorful commentary on the top of it, but knew it wasn't part of my behavior plan!  After all, the learning objective of this week is SURVIVAL UNTIL SPRING BREAK!  Even a student a little slow on the uptake knows that :)

Sunday Best Running

My Sunday Best Running Outfit

So this weekend I had a nice 6 mile run.  The rain held out for an hour and a half, I was able to avoid most of the puddles, and while grey and chilly, I had the road to myself.  I even found a dollar on the sidewalk at the one mile marker.  I ran without my customary knee strap.  Things were going as good as can be expected on a chilly, damp Sunday long run, until an hour and 15 minutes into the run, somewhere around mile 5ish, a young couple passed me with a rude comment about my outfit (which is pictured above minus my orange and purple stripped skull cap).  They were in their early 20's and passed me without a word on a downhill stretch.  Scared the snot, literally, out of me and then I heard the comment.

"Someone obviously got dressed in the dark.  That outfit doesn't even match!" said the girl.
"That's probably why she's walking down the hill!" said the boy.

And with that they jogged up the hill!  The girl with her capri pants, clean white shoes and a grey yoga sweater.  The boy with his grey tee shirt, black tube socks and basketball shorts.  Who the hell are these people to comment on my running gear!  It goes against the inclusive nature of the running community!  I was wearing high tech, dry fit, performance running gear!  So what if it didn't match!  At least you can see me instead of blending into the grey, gloomy sky!  As mismatched as this outfit is, I paid a lot of money for it!  It wicks, it reflects, it resists odors, it damn near does everything but run for you! Who the hell are these two kids.... Then it hit me!

I have become a keeper of the sport!  One of those runners who is happy that you're out there no matter the pace, or the outfit.  One of those runners who appreciates the front of the pack for their athletic proneness and the back of the pack for sticking in there and finishing the race upright!  The urgent need to educate these two rude, young people on the inclusive, supportive nature of our sport was overwhelming, but the two young people jogged up the hill. I wish I had been a little quicker so I could impart some wisdom on those two young, able bodied joggers, but I'm not quick and as loud as my outfit was I wasn't in any shape to holler after them after 5 and a half miles!

So here's what I would of said if I could of caught them up the hill (damn bone fragments and hills don't get along so I walk them). Hey, able bodied young people, enjoy that quick pace now, before kids, and family and job demands interfere with your training schedule.  Enjoy the fact that your joints allow you to run in cheap no brand running shoes and that you won't have to ice those abused joints from those cheap running shoes in say, about five years (when you hit thirty and your body decides it doesn't have to recover quickly, or burn calories at a rapid rate).  Enjoy the fact that the only thing you notice on a weekend run is an older lady in a loud, mismatched outfit instead of enjoying the city sweeping the sidewalks so you don't trip over trash or the relative quiet from a busy, loud, demanding life of most adults with children.  And while I'm at it, please take time to encourage others who are being active.  There are so many people sitting on couches either by choice, or medical condition that can't enjoy the movement of their bodies and see you as an inspiration to what might be if they ever get off the couch. Buy some dry fit.  If you're going to run and comment on what others are wearing you should at least be dressed in appropriate garb to be running's What Not To Wear.  Oh, one more thing, my socks don't match either, but there just as happy as the rest of me to get another run in and that's really what its all about!

Tornado Warning

Spring has sprung and so have the spring storms. We usually watch the weather pass around us on the television,  but tonight the tornado warning went up and the wind started blowing a little side ways so, the kids and I headed to the basement. We have lived in our older home, surrounded by old oak trees for eight years. We have a storm cellar in the basement, but the basement has been "under construction" since we moved in! Going to the basement for a storm is a pretty big deal, but when the wind started blowing sideways, I ordered the kids to the basement!

Of course the tornado warning has to come as I'm getting supper ready!  Really!? Ten more minutes and we could of ate at the table, but mother nature moves at her own pace. I also had a five mile run on the treadmill planned,  but that's not going to happen tonight!

As I'm getting plates ready to take to the basement,  the kids started taking their valuables to the basement.  What did they bring? Blankets, stuffed animals, the dogs, the ipad, cell phones, a couple chairs, drawing supplies, running shoes, water, soda,  a Bible, their supper and ice cream sandwiches for dessert. Interesting combination of items and they were a little perturbed that I didn't bring a whole lot. What did I bring? My phone, my favorite blanket, a chair, a coke, my running shoes and supper. My most valuable things were already in the basement with me!

The treadmill became a supper table. We had a nice meal and good conversation. I'm thinking that we should have more tornado warnings.  After we clean up the basement of course!

My Battle With the Scale

When I was younger I never looked at the scale.  It was embarrassing to step on it not because I was fat, but because I wasn't.  I weighed 65 pounds well into middle school and never weighed more than 105 through freshman year of college.  When your friends are on the latest fad diet the last thing you want to draw attention to is you're not putting on any weight even eating a whole pizza a day. I never use to worry about my weight, but times are changing and the scale is once again something I don't want to deal step on!

Until recently, the only time I monitored my weight was when I was pregnant. At my heaviest I was 210 (pregnant with Zeke), the rest of the time my weight fluctuated between 125-135. I only know this because of doctors visits, but last year our insurance started mandating bmi and weight screenings. My bmi was fine but my weight was 140. I got a lecture and material on diet and exercise.  I wanted to cry. I didn't think I was fat, but my insurance company and doctor did! Suddenly the scale mattered and the more I stepped on it the heavier I got.

My current weight fluctuates between 145-155. I'm not really sure why and neither are the doctors. I have made some changes to my diet and intend to run more this year than last year. I have even contemplated giving up coke a cola, but my students and family have begged me not to! Funny how no one begs you not to get on a scale, but I think that's exactly what they should do! If other members of the house didn't need it I'd throw it out myself because it feels like the constant checking of my weight's ups and downs is the real ten pounds the insurance company says I need to lose!

It's a 10

Elijah had his first true "10" migraine yesterday. It was a little scary for everyone at the house.  Of course mom and dad were off getting mom's wallet that she left at work when the bad storms rolled in and Elijah's head went haywire.  We got the first call that something was wrong with Elijah 15 minutes from home. The second call two minutes from home!

All of the kids have been seizure and migraine trained.  They followed Elijah's plan. I spent two hours massaging his head, getting cold packs and adjusting the bio feedback app for Elijah. Did I mention we were also trying to get supper ready? The kids were great! All took turns watching Elijah when I had to do something with supper. They even turned on closed captioning so the noise from the tv wouldn't distrub Elijah!

There were moments where Elijah couldn't feel his legs and when he calmed down he would seize. His breathing, or lack there of was a little scary, but by 830pm Elijah has recovered and the rest of us were exhausted! Elijah had lots of questions about how bio feedback works and for all my mom comforting I was rewarded with 30 minutes of snuggles from my big boy Lili, who is not the snuggling type!

Fast forward to this morning,  and guess who hasn't been taking his seizure meds? Yes, Elijah has not and after I let into him for being irresponsible with his health I think he understands headaches like yesterday happen without medication!  It's not easy being a fourth grader who has to take meds, but its not easy being a parent of a fourth grader that has the issues Elijah has either! I want him to be independent and not limited by his epilepsy and migraines!  I want him to feel like he has some control and let him manage his medication, but yesterday makes me re think all that.

Can I wrap him in bubble wrap? Probably not and I doubt any of my kids would let me. Elijah's pride is a little hurt that I'm making him take his meds in front of me, instead of trusting that he took them, but he'll get over it. At some point he'll be able to go back to managing his own meds. He's been pretty good at it, but wanting to be "normal" got in the way. Soon he's bound to realize normal is over rated and that his health (or avoidance of migraines) is more important than what others think! I hope that he never has a 10 migraine again,  but if he does I hope he feels his family has earned a 10 in helping him get through the rough stuff!

I Don't Want to Talk About It

I have epilepsy and I don't really want to talk about it. I argued with the doctor at length that my involuntary muscle twitching had to have another root cause, but she finally told me there were a lot worse things to have. In fact, I'd like to ignore the fact I have it, but the damn thing keeps twitching so, recently I have had to explain what is going on to people who don't normally ask such questions. Kids are pretty observant too. They may miss the due date for the current project, but they sure do see my eye twitching or my hands.

It's probably pretty shocking that I don't want to talk about the disease that is such a big part of my family life. You want to talk about Elijah's seizures? Sure, all day. His seizures are easy to explain, are well controlled by medication and happen mostly in the mornings here at home. Want to talk about migraines? I can go on for days. Hey, want to discuss my bruised toe? I even have pictures....

Want to discuss adult onset of generalised epilepsy non specific? No? Me either but inquiring minds (and legitimatly caring people) want to know. Most people want to know if they can help, or if they hurt, or if I can drive, or if I'll do something really cool seizure wise. Here are the answers to these common questions. Thanks, but there isn't much you can do. The seizures (or twitching as we call it at home) doesn't hurt, its just annoying. I can drive as my alertness level is still present. The only cool thing I do seizure wise is... well nothing, but I got over being cool by the first week teaching.

I know I should wear an alert, but I'm not sure what to put on it. Generalized epilipsey doesn't seem very helpful to emergency staff. I know at some point I'll have to wear one.  I know there will be more questions the moment I put it Maybe by then I'll want to talk about it, but right now I' ll pass. Ask questions and I'll answer them, but I really don't have a lot to say. Really.