Maine Travels: Old Orchard Beach

Kids on Main Street at OOB!

The first full day that we were in Maine, we went to Old Orchard Beach.  This town has some family significance in that my grandmother's family used to own the Staples Inn, which is currently a bed and breakfast at the top of a hill that looks down on OOB.  Growing up in Maine, my husband and I used to go to OOB every summer so, we wanted the kids to have the experience.

OOB has changed a lot since we left Maine 20 years ago.  There are a lot more condos and the town itself has built up.  There are still shops selling beach ware on the main drag, but the pier and entrance to the beach have changed.  There's now a water fountain, places to sit and a larger police presence than I remember.  The water was still cold,and there was still a prevalence of French speaking people in the area.  My French is very rusty, but its hard to miss the old man in the Speedo commenting on how warm the water is in Maine opposed to Quebec.

Elijah's face sums up my opinion on the improved Pier.

Change is not always a good thing.  One of the main reasons to go to OOB was to walk on the Pier and see the view.  My grandmother use to tell us about the night club and shops that were on the Pier when she was growing up, but she always described the view. The Pier used to be a happening place and I think that's what all the improvements were supposed to be about, but they missed.  There are several restaurants on the Pier and a Bar at the end that advertises live entertainment.  The Pier is so littered with restaurants and nick knack shops that you can no longer see the Atlantic Ocean.  Hello, main draw to walking on a Pier is to see the beach and the ocean.  Now you have to sneak into some outside seating or pay 10.00 for a beer to see any type of view.  All of us were very underwhelmed.

Colin enjoying pier fries and vinegar

To be honest, the only reason to go to OOB is to eat pizza, pier fries and fried dough.  At least that's what we told the kids.  The objective was to make sure that my husband didn't leave OOB feeling like the Goodyear Blimp, but still enjoyed OOB classic food from our childhood. When your 40 you can't eat like your 16 any more, but with the smell of ocean air and grease, your mind will tell you that you can!  Some of the kids were brave enough to try fries the French way (meaning doused in vinegar).  After two boxes of fries were finished we took the kids to the beach to play in the water (really we took them to the beach to make room for fried dough, but they bought the swimming idea).

Someone got thrown in!

I have birthed Southern children.  They are accustomed to the Atlantic of the Panhandle that runs about 70 to 75 degrees. We did warn them that the water would be a lot colder than what they were used to, but some of them jumped right in anyway.  There were quite a few people with wet suits on, but there were just as many with little to nothing on.  Josie put her toes in and decided it was too cold, but before she could make it back up to the blanket, her older brother threw her in. The boys played on boogie boards and now that their older, we didn't have to pull anyone out when their lips got blue.  People at OOB are a lot less concerned with what swimming attire that they wear than the beaches we normally frequent.  Even my younger boys commented on how many moms with stretch marks, guts, and tattoos were wearing bikinis.  My youngest even told be I looked pretty good and my daughter thanked me for modesty at my age (read I was wearing boy shorts and a very sportive bikini bra top and nothing was hanging out or falling out).  We didn't stay on the beach but for an hour.  It was crowded and the kids thought the water was a little cold for an all day affair.  There is an outdoor shower to wash away the beach and free clean bathrooms in the amusement park.

The reason I have fond memories of OOB is fried dough, dipped in vanilla soft serve ice cream.  Can't leave OOB without some.  Elijah also has a fondness for this dessert and the two of us usually eat our weight in the stuff when we can find it.  To my Southern friends there is a difference between New England fried dough and funnel cake.  Both are worth breaking the diet for!  We like to eat our fried dough loaded with cinnamon, sugar and powered sugar.  It's messy and sticky and there is no point in cleaning up until your done!  Your going to make a mess, but it is a yummy mess.  The dough is sweet and hot and dipping it the soft serve ice cream makes sure you don't burn your mouth (because some of us can't wait until its cool enough to eat).  With bellies full we headed to the car for our next adventure..... Portland Headlight!

Maine Travels

The Saco River

I have returned from a much needed vacation to Maine ten pounds heavier and a phone full of pictures.  Hopefully, the four kids that went have a lifetime of memories to go along with the extra pounds that they brought back (both in food and items).  We crammed a lot into our week and a half.  Old Orchard Beach, Popham Beach, Family Picnic, Boston, University of Maine Tour, Portland Seadogs Game, Kayaking down the Saco, North Conway and Freeport Outlet shopping, 4th of July 10K and strolling down memory lane.

Pier Fries at OOB: Part of my 10 Pounds

I grew up in Maine, went to high school there and promptly left during college.  Other than visiting my husband's family, we went to Maine so I could do some research for a novel I'm working on.  We also went to tour the University of Maine for some of the children who think six months of snow, in the middle of nowhere, sounds like the perfect place to go to college.  I thought it would be fun to do a series over the next couple weeks on our adventures in Maine.  It will be nice to share my home state with readers and relive some new memories as I return to the grind of school.  To wet your reading and viewing appetite here are a couple photos from our vacation.

Popham Beach

Portland Headlight

Boston Freedom Trail

Travel with Kids and Chronic Conditions

The suitcases are packed, the kids are bathed and the car is loaded.  Boarding passes are printed and other than making sure the dishes are done and the trash is taken out, there is nothing left to do but take the long trip to Atlanta.  Tomorrow we fly out to go visit family in Maine.  Only one child remembers flying and while the lectures on what not to say at the air port have been frequent, you never know what will come out of these kids' mouth.

Most people who travel, with or without kids, think about climate and activities and pack accordingly.  In this house, we have to think about how you pack medication for a two week trip.  Do you let the kid who it is prescribed to carry it?  Do you carry it with your medication?  Are you going to get pulled out of security for having all these drugs?  Will your kid be able to explain his conditions and the need for all the meds?  Will the grown up be an ass playing twenty questions?  These are all questions that go through your head when you travel with a person that has a chronic condition, and we haven't even made it to the airport yet.

We are hoping for a good trip.  Medication is packed.  Weather has been checked and possible emergencies have been planned for.  No one wants to be the reason why a planned activity doesn't happen and no one wants to feel bad on vacation, but its likely to happen.  Maybe it won't, but seizures, migraines and Hashimoto's don't really take vacations.  The best we can hope for is that we have a good time with the illnesses that we have and that people who don't normally deal with us are kind.  Wish us luck!

Everyone's Getting Brooms

I'm finally sitting down, waiting on the plumber to get here because we have a busted pipe at our well. I remember as a kid that my parents would get up, have a cup of coffee and then start cleaning. My mom was a housewife for a while and she'd clean until noon. When my dad got sick, and Mom went back to work, the real cleaning began. Short a lung due to cancer, my dad was up at 4am every morning to clean the house. By 7am (the longest he'd let you sleep in) the floors had been vacuumed, swept and mopped, cabinets washed down, bathrooms disinfected and breakfast ready. The smell of scrambled eggs, bleach and Pine-Sol welcomed you to a new day, everyday!

I tell you this because I assure you my children do not live in an immaculate house. In fact, they live in quite the opposite because their mom and dad work, a lot! I clean on the weekends, if I'm not exhausted from the week, but these kids are home every day. Theybdo not seem perturbed that the house looks like a disaster daily. It begs the question, where did my dad's cleaning gene go?

This morning, when I got up, I noticed the daily battle over the dishes was won because there were no dishes in the sink. This is probably because my husband told the kids he was cutting off the water, and if Josie had any hopes of driving the tractor again, the dishes better be done. Without the mountain of dishes a family this large produces, to despair over in the morning, I could turn my attention to other matters.
Please tell me why five other people live in this house and NONE of them are capable of seeing dog hair, food debris, or trash on the floor? What stops them from grabbing the broom and sweeping, or plugging in the vacuum, or hell, just bending over to pick up the trash that they threw on the ground?

It took me ten minutes to wipe down the counters, sweep the kitchen and the living room floor. Is it too much to ask that if you live here, you could take ten minutes from your hetic schedule of XBOX and social media to bend over, pick up the trash you threw down and sweep up the dog hair? The response from the child who was up was "yes" and "no one other than me notices such things". Impossible I say and because four kids live here more than I do, I know they made most of this mess! Maid was never a career aspiration of mine so, for birthdays and Christmas everyone is getting a broom! Maybe then their cleaning genes will be activated and I can go back to sitting on my porch, drinking a Coke and writing. Hey, we all have dreams!

Independent Thinkers

Working hard!

I wanted to go to the beach today. I assumed that my children would also like to go to the beach instead of staying at home to do yard work. Their response last night was "No, Crazy Lady we'd rather do yard work and eat pizza at home!" After my intial shock of teens not wanting to go the beach, and a little bit of whining on my part, the children informed me that I should be proud that they are independent thinkers and can make decisions on their own. Really stupid desiicons on their own, but then I was told I wasn't a good judge of decision making because I was crazy.  My husband assumed when the morning came that the kids would agree to go to the beach instead of yard work. Obviously, the picture demonstrates that I'm not the only crazy person in the house because my children opted to stay home.

I woke them up at 730am on a Saturday! I was met with blank stares and then the lovely "GO AWAY CRAZY LADY!" Response that I can only assume all kids greet their mothers with when they are capable of being independent thinkers. Out of their beds, into the car, and off to Lowe's to get yard work supplies. This could of been a nice road trip to the beach, including the normal fighting over the front seat, but no, my little independent thinkers viewed completing yard work in the South Georgia heat as a less crazy decision than taking a car ride to swim in the Atlantic.

It's getting hot out there!

Josie made some more of her natural weed killer to spray around the yard, and I truly think that these independent thinkers thought they'd spray the weed killer, come back inside, and hope I forgot that they opted for yard work INSTEAD of the beach. I appreciate hard working, independent thinkers, emphasis on the hard working part! After five minutes, these little independent thinkers first tried to point out that they were being punished for being independent thinkers and not wanting to go to the beach. The crazy lady that they call Mom, pointed out that they had the freedom to be independent thinkers, when they were independent workers, who paid their own bills. I then went inside to start a load of laundry, because independent thinkers don't usually contemplate where theif clean clothes come from. They worked for about thirty minutes before the true whining, complaining and blaming started. I mentioned the they should be thankful for the breeze, access to shade and as much water as they wanted. With the looks I got, I'm sure my little independent thinkers were not thinking up nice names to call their crazy lady. I spent at least an hour kicking one of the three back outside, and reminding them that independent thinking has consequences, after all their mother wanted to take them to the beach! Elijah asked if yard work was included in child labor laws and the older two told him not to approach that line of argument  (being that the three oldest have on occasion attempted such an agreement and received a multi day history lesson on child labor).

The children have all played/cooled down with the hose (depending on whose independent thinking view point you take about spraying your children and siblings with the hose on a hot day). They have had plenty of water and Gatorade. They even had frozen pizza for lunch. The independent thinkers have completed one bed, of like ten at the house.  My husband thinks that there should be no weeds on our little acre of land when he gets home tonight. After all, he works 12 hours a day in an un-airconditioned wharehouse, and would prefer the independent thinkers not have to do what he does for a living. Of course, I have a PhD and my children think I'm crazy for working in an airconditioned high school and wanting to go to the beach. Hopefully, my little independent thinkers will see today as brilliant parenting when they have kids of their own, but for now it's time for them to go outside and think about the next time their crazy lady mom asks them if they want to go to the beach!

Killing Weeds

My daughter is a big agriculture person. She wants to be an agricultural engineer when she grows up, she's an officer in the Future Farmers of America, and she loves playing in the dirt. She's all about agriculture, until it's time to deal with our yard on a sunny, South Georgia day. Anyone who has lived in South Georgia knows that by 10 am the tempereature is well above 90 in the shade. I tried to get our agriculture princess up early this morning, before the heat hit hard.  She is spending the summer working on an SAE project which includes lawn maintaince, landscaping, and various other home garden things. I tried getting her up at 8am so, she could pull weeds and trim bushes, but in typical teen fashion she ignored all calls to get up and get going. By 9 am, when she finally rolled out of the bed, put on her boots, FFA shirt, shorts and gloves (DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE BOOTS AND SHORTS THING), the temperature was 86 outside and whatever shade was available in her assigned work areas had long since disappeared.

Today's chief mission was to trim bushes and weed. My agriculture princess and I both take great joy in killing weeds, but neither one of us has a great deal of patience for waiting on chemicals to kill things.  Usually we just pick them out of the ground and throw them in the burn pit, but the soil is stating to get hard and the weeds are starting to get hardy. We went to Pintrest to see about a natural weed killer because the commercial stuff is expensive. There are also a lot of safety precautions you're supposed to use when dealing with the commercial stuff, and since the agriculture princess has to document her yard dealings for her summer project, we decided trying an all natural method instead. Of course now all you smell is vinegar and dish detergent outside, but by this evening when it cools down the weeds should magically be dead due to a chemical reaction and South Georgia heat.  I personally don't believe this to be true, but the agriculture princess is willing to wait and try tonight.

My Agriculture Princess with her natural weed killer!

Hiatus

It's been four months since I last wrote a blog post. There are a multitude of reasons behind this. Some are valid and others are just me being, well out of touch to mull life over.  I did get the flu (twice).  My husband seems to have worked non stop since Christmas so, any time I get to spend with him I try to give him my undivided attention. Unless I'm reading from the Outlander series, which is well written and has filled the last two months of my spare time with thoughts of Galiec and time travel. There was also the end of a school year (both my personal children and school children) to close out so, it's not as though I've been doing nothing. Honestly, I'm not sure how many people read my blog and doubt it has been missed.

Someone asked if I'd given up writing. The answer is no, I'm just contemplating writing a novel. Writing a novel is a lot to contemplate and as I currently struggle with balancing my health, family and work responsibilities I'm not sure how to fit such an endeavor into my schedule. When I was younger I would of just found a way, usually when everyone was asleep.  Now, with my Hashimotos, I value my 7-8 hours of sleep a night. Having teens and tweens in the house means there is rarely a time when someone isn't up and writing has always been a solo activity for me. Exhaustion is real my friends and not for the weak of heart. Risking my tenuous health to write the great American novel would not be well received by my husband and children.

Things are fairly scheduled here. Get up, go to work, come home, make dinner and go to bed. I'm bored and restless with the same thing day in and day out, which means I spend a lot of time in my own head, contemplating the best way to shake things up without the disruption of the lives of the people who love and depend on me. I'm not made up of the stuff to just cut and run on some wild adventure while there are others depending on me to do something  (like keep food clothing and shelter in place). I'm hoping a vacation back to Maine and possibly some travel in the fall will help put life back in perspective. Either way I'll try to be a little better entertaining the masses with my little blog.

Victoria's Secret Crazy

I hate going to Victoria's Ain't Got No Secrets, but they were having a sale and I needed some new undergarments. Really, who wears this stuff and who has money for this stuff? More importantly, I really don't want help shopping for my undergarments. As this week has been crazy already, I was hoping I could run in and buy a bra in peace! Of course nothing is that easy this week.

Please keep in mind that it is 20 degrees outside. I have on my winter jacket, wool pants, purple sneakers and due to the fuse blowing in my bathroom this morning, my hair is pulled back into a tiny pony tale. I assure you I am nothing special to look at in my present condition. Imagine my surprise when a young man came up to me and asked if I was one of the Angel's.  Really?! At first I thought he was working at Victoria's because he then asked if he could assist me in selecting my undergarments!  Then held up a pair of 14.50 thongs!

Why me!? Do I look like I wear those? I informed the "helpful" man that I was married with five kids and thongs really weren't my thing. Surprise,the man did not work there and really wasn't going away. I like comfortable and creepy man was making my shopping experience uncomfortable.  I am decidedly not one of Victoria's Angels because if I was someone would deliver these overpriced undergarments to my house where I wouldn't need to deal with creepy men! Creepy man then followed me over to the bras and tried to play guess my size. I'm not talking to this guy, hoping he'd go away, but again I can't catch a break this week. When I bent down to pick up a 36 D creepy guy gets really excited about my choice.  Then he has the nerve to say "Who would know that you were hiding all that under that coat!"

Okay that's enough! I grab my purchases and go up to the counter. When the lady asks if anyone helped me with my purchases I point to Mr. Creepy and said Boo Boo over there tried but he really couldn't handle it! Mr. Creepy then hollered back he likes feisty angels. At this point I just want to get the hell out of the store. The cashier then informed me that Mr. Creepy is a regular and tries those lines all the time. Hello, could you get him the hell out of the store? Can I get the hell out of the store? I did get a free tee shirt out of the experience but not without Mr. Creepy commenting that the shirt would look good on his floor.

Sorry Mr. Creepy it will be a cold day in hell before that happens!

10 Ways To Piss Your Mother Off Before 7am

Mondays are hard enough. Add a child and it gets harder. Add four and there is the potential for nuclear melt down! Before 7am my children banded together to push every button I have, before my coke and breakfast! Here are the ten ways my lovely children pissed me off before sunrise!

1. Don't wake up before 600am! Wake up time has been the same since you started school!  Why do you look so surprised when Monday arrives and your mother is shouting for you to get your butt out of bed? Why does your mother have to threaten to put her foot up your butt to get you out of the bed? Why? Just why?

2. Inform your mother that you got up in the middle of the night and threw up nasty spaghetti!  Yes Colin, we get it! You did not like last night's supper choice, but no one heard you throw up last night. Since you have never thrown up without waking up the entire house hollering for help with throwing up, your lying in an attempt to stay home is rejected! Your ass is going to school just like everyone else!

3. Cut a brownie the size of your head for breakfast! Colin if we believed you were sick last night, eating a brownie (which were supposed to be for lunches) the size of your head is not what's for breakfast. Only it was because Colin put his snotty nose on head sized brownie before I could make it a reasonable size, or snatch it from his hands and replace the brownie with something more breakfast oriented.

4. Tell your siblings their stupid and lazy! Yes Elijah the rest of the clan is lazy but not stupid! Engaging in a shouting match to prove that your siblings are stupid because they don't know all the power ranger episodes does not prove your point and it just distracts the rest of them from getting ready!

5. Try to act like the boss when your laying face down on the couch pretending to take a nap! Elijah get up and assist your brothers and sister with getting ready! Please!

6. Start fighting over whose wearing whose pants. Just put some pants on! He'll wear shorts! I don't care just get dressed and out to the bus!

7. Stand with the fridge open and state there is nothing for lunch! No, there is plenty for lunch, but it will require you getting a bag for the food, some bread and sandwich meat and make a sandwich! It's not rocket science it's a sandwhich!

8. Not have your FFA official dress ready to go prior to 630 departure time! Josie, not only were you asked 3000 times over the weekend if your official dress was clean and ready, you stated it was. This will be the third black skirt you lost since August and it's mine! Clean your room and we may find them in the pit of clothes that are spilling from what used to be a chair in your room!

9. Not be ready to leave at 630! No lunch, no track stuff,  can't find your books, need a pencil, can't find your purse!  WTH have you not mastered laying everything out the night before?  That's what you told us you were doing at midnight!  Apparently Josie had amnesia when morning hit because she couldn't find anything and we were late leaving, like thirty minutes late!

10. Blame/accuse your brothers of taking your black skirt and panty hose while your mother is trying to pull into traffic! I assure you Josie as strange as your brothers are, they do not wear women's clothing! Even if they did none of them would wear it in your size! Your attempt to justify the fact that you can't get your crap together caused us to have a fender bender.

BONUS
Pointing out that Daddy is going to be pissed and it is now our normal arrival time to school!  I assure you I'm pissed for both of us!

EXTRA BONUS and NUCLEAR MELT DOWN
Josie stating that's why she doesn't let me use the phone when I'm driving!

Fun times all before sunrise and caffeine!

The Coupon King is Born

This week's receipt!

Last week Elijah, who is 11, watched a marathon of Extreme Coupons.  That was a huge mistake because after the marathon of coupons and stockpiles, Elijah went grocery shopping with me.  Elijah usually goes grocery shopping with me.  He likes to make the list, and then come home and organize everything.  Elijah has a little OCD streak so, if he's going grocery shopping there is a way the buggy has to be packed, unpacked and stored.  Ever watch an 11 year old tell a bagger their packing the cart wrong?  I have on several occasions.  "Soda goes on the bottom, not in the cart bagger person!"  The struggle is real people!

Last week's savings!

Last week Elijah was able to save $63.28 with the coupons that he found in the store.  It was a family record.  He was excited and the lady ringing us up was excited.  My husband was not only excited, but impressed enough to get him an official coupon binder and some more coupons.  Elijah ordered his sister to clean out her closet so he'd have a place to start his stockpile and she did it.  What the hell?  Where did I go wrong? Why is he so interested in doing this? Why do I have to be his wing man?  My idea of good grocery shopping is get in and get out as quickly as possible.  Ever go grocery shopping with a budding extreme couponer?  It is its own special hell. 
 

This week's savings!

THE MADNESS!!! MAKE IT STOP! STOP ENCOURAGING IT!  More episodes of Extreme Coupon.  A woman who's 8 months pregnant diving in a dumpster for coupon flyers, seems legit says the 11 year old Coupon King. No it seems like you have a problem and might want to consider medication.  With new binder in hand and several coupon flyers, Elijah (now known as the Coupon King) cut out coupons, made a list and uploaded on line coupons.  A plan of attack was made all before 11AM this morning.  Grocery shopping took two hours.  We were those people who had two buggies of groceries.  We were those people holding up the line.  We were those people who the check out lady rolled her eyes and sighed when the Coupon King pulled out his stack of coupons.  The bagger girl was enthralled with our little Coupon King.  She wanted to take a picture to show her economics teacher.  People were starting to lean over and gather.  The manager came over when the cashier started to struggle with the amount of coupons, looking agitated, until the bagger girl informed the crowd that it was not me engaging in this madness, but a cute little 11 year old boy.  The total kept rising and you could tell the Coupon King was getting nervous.  His goal was to beat last week's record.  If he could get to $100 in savings his dad promised him $25.00 and going out to eat (and yes he has a coupon for that too).  When the total savings got over $75.  even the cashier was starting to get excited.  The total reached $90.00 and people were impressed until the Coupon King informed the crowd that the cashier did not put is online coupons in.  With the press of some buttons the online coupons went in and the grand total of savings was $107.99.  The Coupon King was spelling his name for onlookers and people were clapping!

The unpacking begins!

Now we are home and the rest of the kids are impressed with the Coupon King's haul.  The Coupon King's subjects are putting away groceries and the Coupon King is basking in the glow of a successful trip to the grocery store.  The Coupon King's wing man has been asked to get some Sunday papers for future trips.  Too bad the Coupon King's mom has banned him from the grocery store next week!  If you see my son on an episode of Extreme
Coupon please know that I am not encouraging this madness, but he's having a great time and saving money so the rest of the family is!

Mississippi Blues Half Marathon

The Mississippi Blues Marathon is held in Jackson. It has been billed as a race you should do due to the swag and the guitar medal that finishers receive. I don't know if the nylon vest and the plastic harmonic are tops on my swag list, but they're alright. The cd of blues music is pretty cool but still, not enough swag to put this half marathon on my running bucket list. The field is about 3500 runners, over three (four if you count the kids race) races. The quarter note race is a 10k and it gets all the previously mentioned swag and a smaller medal.

Let's start with the things that need improvement.  The race expo is the smallest I've been to for a race of this size. Someone could of made a lot of money selling cold weather gear due to the unusual, unexpected freezing temperatures. The three clothing vendors were hawking their left over summer apparel, and one was selling only shoes and race nutrition. The marathon also ran out of shirts to buy for this year's race. Perhaps, an option when you register to order a shirt (which were pretty cool) would be a good idea. Next, the paper insert about the race was a huge disappointment. No map of the half or quarter note races. Turn by turn directions were provided for each race, but when we tried to drive the route a few of the roads were one ways and we ran the opposite way. There was information about the bar crawl after the race, but not any information included about other cool things to do in Jackson.  Chamber of Commerce needs to get on that because Jackson is a pretty cool little city! Lastly, the roads in Jackson are horrible. They could compete with any New England road in spring! I've never seen a Southern city with so many potholes and frost heaves as Jackson.  The packet pick up volunteers were warning out of towners about the potholes so, I anticipated that some of the larger ones would be marked, but they weren't.  On a side note, because this was a freakish polar vortex thing and not the norm, some warning signs through the water stations that ice is on the roads would have been helpful.  The water stops were slippery messes due to ice forming from the water cups.

Now all the good parts to this race. First, it's not expensive to register for. Second, the  volunteers and the community as a whole were wonderful!  Polite,  encouraging,  helpful,  the epitome of southern hospitality!  Third, this is the first race where water stations and Porta potties were close to every mile. I didn't even have to use the water I normally carry. There were also generous time limits for the races and the awards were later so more people could enjoy. Due to the extreme cold temperature (and it was frigid) I didn't get the full music experience,  but the band's that were there were excellent! Pizza (and beer but I don't drink) were plentiful at the finish line in a heated tent (not for vip's but for everyone). Lastly, the medal for this race is beautiful and huge.  No one could miss it on your neck or hanging on your wall!

Overall a great experience. A warning about the course, it's hilly, like rolling  hills hilly. There is no escape and no flat section. Being that I live in South Georgia,  where there are no hills, and not being fully trained up yet, I walked most of this race (as evidenced by my 3:34 finish time).

1 Month On Thyroid Meds

It has been one month since my new doctor prescribed synthroid to treat my Hashimoto's.  It's an attempt to shrink the growths on my thyroid and level out my blood work to a more normal level.  She did prescribe it with the warning that will take up to a month before I see any real results.  When you have been battling with your thyroid for almost a year and a half, one month really isn't a long time to wait to see results.  Unless, your tired of feeling tired all the time, gaining weight, dry skin, moody, losing hair and stomach issues, then a month seems like forever.

I have religiously woken up at 5:06 AM everyday and taken my pill with 6oz of water.  I wait an hour to eat which is what is recommended to get the full effect of the medication.  That means waiting to have my morning coke and supplements until we are ready to leave the house for school.  I forget to eat breakfast more than I remember to eat it with the new schedule. I have maintained my sleep schedule and tried to avoid foods that I'm sensitive to.

The results after one month?  Well, probably not the magic pill I had hoped it was going to be.  I have lost six pounds and the swelling/bloating in my joints and face has started to come down. My pants fit and I don't have to go through everything in my closet, every morning, to find something that doesn't make me look fat and bloated.  My hair is still falling out and my skin still requires copious amounts of lotion to not drive me nuts with dry, scaly, itchy skin.  My stomach issues have been hit or miss, but probably more hit than miss.  The week before my period was particularly rough emotionally, but it was a busy week with way too much going on.  Everyone was cranky so, I'm not sure if that is a side effect of the meds, or just a difficult time.  Towards the end of January blood will be drawn to check my levels and it could take up to 6 months for the growths to start shrinking (which will be checked in a year).

I'll keep you posted on my battle with Hashimoto's.  I have some plans for 2015 so stay tuned!

New Doctor Same Hashimoto's

Today was exhausting and financially draining. Today I went to a new endocrinologist.  A doctor close to home. I didn't really expect too much since previously I was seeing one of the highest ranked doctors in the Atlanta area, and he didn't do squat! At least the new doctor was a Mercer grad so, I felt I could safely assume she was educated. The new doctor was also a woman so, I was hoping that she would understand the demands of working and being a mom. Just in case she didn't, I brought the endless question asking Elijah for backup. Elijah also had an eye appointment later that day.

The new doctor was dressed how I would like to dress if I had the money and the energy to take that good care of myself. Nice watch,  classy jewelry and a manicure that was not done by an 11 year old boy, who asks a lot of questions. I have been told that this doctor has a thyroid condition herself. Looking at her you couldn't tell and that's what I want. We shook hands, made introductions and she told me she reviewed my previous records. There was the listening to my chest that all doctors do, and then she felt my thyroid. That was about it. I thought here we go again, slam bam, keep it moving and pay your copay. Elijah asked her if that was all she got paid to do? There wasn't a response back.

The doctor jotted some notes on her laptop and then informed me I needed a yearly ultrasound to assess and monitor the growths on my thyroid. I also needed updated blood work because the previous doctor didn't run the full panel that she likes to run. Unlike my previous endocrinologist,  I was taken immediately for an ultrasound and blood work was completed in the office. She explained that it would take a couple days for the blood work to come back, but they'd have the ultrasound results today. I figured 3 months later I'd find out the results, or get a phone call telling me I was good for another three months. The ultrasound was completed and I was shocked when the doctor came in to watch the ultrasound and reviewed it with me right there!

The verdict, the growth on my thyroid is 10% bigger than last year. When my blood work comes back she'll decide on a medication, and hopefully it will stop the growth, or shrink the growth, and throw my Hashimoto's into remission. Happy day!

Now that I was done with the doctor,  it was Elijah's turn. Elijah, under impressed with watching a thyroid ultrasound and that there was no hysteria with drawing my blood,  was eager to show his skills off to the eye doctor.  No child has ever epically failed an eye exam as bad as Elijah did today.  Second row of an eye chart anyone? He only started to complain last week so, I thought for once I was on top of things.

The eye doctor and Elijah debated about taking multi vitamins and then he said, "Dude,  you failed and your getting glasses!" "Cool!" Elijah responded. There were a couple questions about Elijah's sensitivity to light and computer work hours. Elijah responded, "like I'm 11, I don't get paid for computer work!" By the time we were done with all the fancy equipment,  fitting and lenses, 353.00 will allow Elijah to see clearly now that all my money is gone!

I'll Never Be A Good Band Parent

My white girl on the drum line!

Today was my first band competition as a band parent.  I am not designed to be a band mom.  A wrestling mom, a soccer mom, a volleyball mom and a track mom yes, but this band mom thing is probably not going to be something I'm good at!  I would have had a better chance at looking like a supportive parent, who was enjoying themselves at Zeke's math meet this morning (and I despise math)!  Please don't think I don't like the arts because that just isn't true.  I love music and I help sponsor the play for our school (which will be a musical this year). I've sat at many a chorus concert and many a band concert over my years as a teacher/parent. I enjoy hearing our band play, but this notion of competition band eludes me.

There were skimpy dance/flag girl outfits on too many girls that should not me wearing sequined spandex (it will only stretch so far).  There was heavy makeup and matching hair of same said girls, to which I can only comment that some parents must be paying a fortune in fake hair and spray tanning (I intended to do NEVER EVER do either).  I don't remember any of our drum majors in high school wearing go go boots with a skirt that barely covered their butt, and almost showed what type of undergarments said drum major was wearing on the band stand thingy. 

See, I don't even know the terminology associated with a band competition!  I thought that an excellent rating would be a good thing, but apparently anything less than a superior is BAD, VERY BAD!  I do like the fire baton thingies (which I was informed by a REAL band parent that they were not called fire baton thingies).  There is the potential for excitement with the fire batons.  Our band director said I would not be getting any fire baton thingies because I would be dangerous with such things. He says the same thing when I play with the drum sticks too, but they don't catch on fire when I play on the drums!  The closest I'm getting to fire anything is if I burn the cookies, or snacks, that I bring for the band kids, which is also apparently not done because band kids should eat out of the concession stand.  (OUR band kids seem to like the cookies so I'll continue to go against the grain with that one!) 

The number one reason I'll never be a good band parent is because band competitions seem to harbor a sexist and racists culture. and contradicting that culture is not well received.  I have little patience for such things in athletics, and in a gym with a couple 100 people I can be really loud about stupid racial or sexist comments made (especially to my kids).  Our band is very small (like 12 kids small, 15 kids small on a good day).  Instead of bigger bands being encouraging about our kids taking the field, they were laughing and talking.  The band that sat behind us today was particularly bad with their comments.  The flute girl behind me was particularly bad.  "Why are they even wasting our time with this band!  THEY'RE A BLACK BAND with one white girl in the band.  What is she doing there?  I think she plays the clarinet or something?"  Okay, at this point I was ready to turn around and slap the nasty flute player with one of those fire baton thingies, but I'm an assistant principal and people usually frown on such things.  Since none of her band chaperons thought to shut her up, (or at least move her away from our two fans (Elijah and I).  The flute player could of moved onto another topic, but she just couldn't let go of the white girl thing.  Keep in mind that I spent thirty minutes braiding Josie's hair for her band hat thing prior to our band taking the field so, I'm not sure what the flute girl was thinking with the comment that I couldn't ignore. "That white girl must be confused going to that school playing clarinet!" With all the southern charm I could manage I replied "Sweetheart, the white girl in OUR band is on the drum line!"  The flute girl then replied ""Well, she must be really confused because girls don't play on the drum line!"  Now, there were lots of things I could of said, and trust me the thought crossed my mind.  How did I respond (because we all know the girl who played hockey and baseball couldn't let that type of comment go)?  No honey, she's not confused, she talented!  Otherwise they'd have her play the flute!  Flute girl's response "That's RUDE!"  Then she finally moved!

So, you see I'll never be a good band parent!  Apparently, I'm RUDE!  I'm loud too so, just watch out at the next band competition.  If I'm a bad band parent, then I intend to be the very best BAD band parent there is.  I have like the next 8 years to practice because Elijah is auditioning for the drum line too!  Fire baton thingies and the betting of how much sequined spandex can stretch shouldn't be the only entertainment at a band competition!

Apparently my band kids don't get band competitions either!

Rash Refocus

Hard to see but angry rash!

 I have found myself more and more being angry and frustrated with the condition of my life.  Perhaps because I am turning 40 in October, or perhaps because I just have too much on my plate that I'm not all that interested in eating.  Angry and frustrated sums up how I have been feeling for about a month!  There's the typical physical stuff that goes along with the Hashimoto's (fatigue, muscle aches, stomach issues, and clumps of hair falling out).  There's the typical stuff of being an assistant principal (unhappy parents, unhappy kids, and unhappy teachers).  There's the typical mom stuff (checking grades, chores, feedings, cleaning, transporting and suporting).  THERE'S TOO MUCH STUFF!

New haircut!

My body has not reacted well to there being all this stuff and frankly, I have done a very poor job of making sure that I'm taking care of myself.  I haven't run since school started.  My diet currently consists of processed food, take out and coke.  Last weekend, I went to the ER for stomach pains which turned out to be an UTI and stomach infection.  This weekend I am battling an angry rash on my feet and legs! Enough is enough!  I read on lots of blogs and lots of people tell me "You need to take care of yourself!"  You would think that someone with a PhD would know how to take care of themselves, but if I'm listening to my body, the answer is NO!  So, it's time to regroup and refocus!

Today, I went for a haircut and got my eyebrows waxed! Took a selfie to remember the style that will not be possible Sunday morning when I try to do it myself, but at least I was cute today!

Mini pumpkin pies!

I have made the decision to stop worrying about the scale!  I'm going to make a concentrated effort to eat real food and food I ENJOY!  Despite some caring co workers and friends who keep suggesting gluten free and paleo diets as a cure for what ails me, I'll be eating food that is not processed but tastey!  I will be baking and cooking whenever I can because it taste good and I enjoy doing it!  It also makes my house smell good! Don't you wish you could smell the pumpkin pies and homemade bread too?

Crafty!

I have also made the decision to work less at things I'm not enjoying!  I work like a dog most days, and go to bed exhausted!  Most days I feel I did not accomplish ANYTHING!  This is where a great deal of my anger and frustration comes from and that's about to change.  When I look around at school, there are plenty of students and grown ups not working like me.  They're not panic stricken about completing their TO DO LIST.  They're enjoying themselves and doing things that they like to do!  In an effort to be more like other people (more fun, less work), I did a craft.  I will be watching football!  I will be watching Blacklist and Outlander!  I'm even planning a long run tomorrow!

So, a rash all over my feet, the feet that keep me going from task to task has promoted me to refocus my time and energy more on things I find enjoyment in and less on working!

You Don't Go Home With Them

I have been coaching since I was 15 and I'll be 40 in October.  I am not the best coach. I am not the worst coach. I enjoy working with kids. I enjoy the sports I coach. Tonight was not a night I enjoyed. This is not going to be one of those uplifting stories about the great lessons being part of an athletic team can teach you. This is not going to be one of those stories where the athletes rise above adversity. It is going to be one of those stories that is more common than anyone is willing to admit. If you don't want to know how ugly it can get with youth sports stop reading now!

I coach a volleyball team this year.  These girls have never touched a volleyball prior to this summer with the exception of one girl. My daughter is the one girl with any experience.  She's the youngest on the team, and most days the only white girl on the team.  She is a minority at our school. She knew she would be when she decided to come to school with me. That's right, she chose to come to a high minority, high poverty school because she wanted to be here. She believes in what the school stands for and will tell anyone who will listen how proud she is to go to our school. Her race has not been a problem until tonight.

We had a small crowd at the game. The girls were playing well in a close game.  Everywhere we have been this season people have been positive and encouraging. The girls expected the same at home. I'm saddened to say that a few people in a small crowd ruined what had been such a positive experience for a great group of young ladies. As the girls are learning about volleyball, so is the community.  I could chalk this up to a learning experience for all of us but, it's a ugly, harsh way to learn. Lack of education, poverty, or race is no excuse to holler at kids that they're awful. None of those factors are a reason to holler out a number of a child, on your own team, and say get her out of there. There is also never a reason to point at kids and make racial comments,  but a few people did. The comments made to my daughter brought her to tears.

As her coach and as her mother, I really wanted to walk across the court and go beat the hell out of the people ruining this experience for my child and her teammates.   I was able to tell Josie "pull yourself together. Your made of stronger stuff than that! Don't worry about what they say, you go home with me!

To be fair, my daughter wasn't the only one targeted.  By the end of the second set I had two in tears and two ready to go across the court to fight grown folks. I did what I could by having the ad ask them to leave. That quited the rest of the crowd, but the damage was done. The team that gets praise from some of the best teams around for their sportsmanship,  joy of playing, and positive team spirit did not enjoy winning the third set against a team that beat them just last week in three sets.  The girls did not have a good time. One could not finish the game because she was so upset. The girls couldn't shake the negativity from a few people in their community.

Such things are not what youth sports are designed to teach! I'm not naive.  I've been coaching for 20 years and heard some pretty ugly things hollered in MY general direction. When you holler ugly things to student athletes, to someone's child..... well that's a whole other story. I would have loved to take all the girls home with me last night and show them the love and respect they deserved on the court. As a coach, parent and educator,  I felt the need to process with the next generation how to handle an ugly situation, when it happens by people who should know better, but sadly the rest of the girls weren't going home with me. I hope conversations were had, egos were smoothed and confidence was rebuilt in other homes last night even if all I could do was have only one of those conversations with only one child!

You Didn't Come With Instructions

Seizure accident on his bike! He recovered quickly and was on his bike the next day!

Yesterday the lovely office assistant forwarded a phone call to my office.  Luckily, I was looking for a student in our computer system and was in my office to take the call... from the Elijah's school nurse.  Usually I'm not in my office much so, this was just dumb luck that I was in my office to take the call.

This is Elijah's first year in middle school and he's decided to break in the school nurse and teachers quickly by having a two minute seizure in the middle of the hallway, during class change.  He was unconscious and couldn't feel his legs when he came to.  He also went down pretty hard and hit his head on the concrete.  Floor 1, Elijah 0 as indicated by the goose egg on his head.

Funny thing is I just met with his teachers the day before to review his 504 plan and his seizure plan.  Not sure his teachers really thought he needed either.  Apparently they really weren't paying attention because his math teacher told us that she "didn't know what to do and Elijah had not come with instructions!"  She was also confused that his medical alert only had conditions, medications and phone numbers on it...NO INSTRUCTIONS!  Probably why we had a meeting sweetheart, and while this was an unusually long seizure for Elijah, I would assume a person with a college degree and almost 20 years of teaching experience has had a kid or two with epilepsy.  If not she probably should of taken some notes during the meeting, or better yet, read his seizure plan.  Now I can't be all perturbed with the teacher.  While she let the kids in the hall surround him while he was unconscious (hello anyone had basic first aid at this school?), she did concoct a good cover story so Elijah didn't have to explain epilepsy to 100 sixth graders in the hall.  The story goes he fainted, fell, knocked himself unconscious on the floor and had to go home to make sure he didn't have a concussion.  The truth would have been a lot easier!

I'm not sure which children come with instructions pinned to their chest.  None of the kids I birthed, babysat or taught had such notes attached to them. I suppose you could tattoo instructions on a child, but I imagine child services would object.  Here are the instructions I'm tempted to pin to Elijah's chest when he goes back to school on Monday (if a 6th grader would let you do such a thing).

Epilepsy is pretty common.  If you have a brain, you can have a seizure and while watching a seizure can be scary please follow these instructions:
1. Turn him on his side.
2. Start timing (at 3 minutes call an ambulance and transport to ER)
3. Clear the area (he doesn't want people to watch him have a seizure and you wouldn't either)
4. When the seizure is done check for bumps and breaks
5. Only ask him yes or no questions, language is an advanced skill and his brain just had an electrical storm and isn't ready to engage you verbally.
6. Call parents
7. Let him nap until parent arrives, or he says he's ready to go back to class.
8. Breath! It's not his first seizure and it won't be his last.  He's embarrassed and worried that others will think he is not capable of being a fully functioning human being! Please don't add to these feelings, he feels bad enough right now.
9. If you feel the need to say something say "Welcome Back or Carry On".
10. He's a normal kid.  Give him a hug and let him be a normal kid!  No need to relive the experience, or limit his activities.  If it's not bothering him, don't let it bother you.  Sit back and watch what knowledge and resiliency can do!

A kid who happens to have epilepsy doing normal kid things!

He plays sports too!

He eats normal food!

You Should Thank Jesus

Yesterday was another day of doctors not knowing what's wrong with me, nor how to treat what's wrong with me. Currently,  my blood pressure and heart rate are too low. The chest pains and dizziness are also problematic. When I was discussing with someone what was wrong (after they asked why I went to the doctors) their response shocked and angered me. What could someone say that would cause shock and anger? "You should thank Jesus that you don't have cancer or something more serious!"  Which was followed by "You don't look sick. Are you sure? You're pretty athletic."

Many possible comments came to my brain. The following are things I wished I said:
1. Perhaps,  you should thank Jesus that I haven't knocked your head off your shoulders for being and idiot!
2. I'm sure Jesus has better things to do then give me an invisible illness to be thankful for.
3. Jesus made it possible for me not to look sick so I can practice patience for the mentally challenged.
4. I'm pretty sure Jesus didn't give me Hashimoto's, since it's an autoimmune disease, to test how thankful I am.
5. Are you really that gifted that you can put your foot in your mouth and talk out your ass?
6. In your world do athletes not get sick?

Any of these would be justified comments to a person who is insensitive to an illness they can't see.  I carry on with work, and parenting, and coaching despite not feeling well, in hopes I can fake it until I make it. Some days I make it through the day; some days I make it through a couple of hours. Just because my illness is not visible,  it doesn't make it any less to battle.  We'd all be in better shape if we remembered to treat each other with a little grace and mercy instead of righteous and judgements

So, what did I say to my Jesus friend? As an educator my first instinct was to attempt to educate them, but to be completely honest I just answered I thank Jesus everyday and carry on.

I Don't Understand Tired

I'm sitting here silently fuming that physically well people did not complete their assigned tasks today, which in turn means I can't finish my assigned tasks! I saved up on my energy so I could stay up past ten to complete my task! Today, I heard every excuse that grown ups use when they don't complete their "homework!" Most of them I've heard, but when I was told I wouldn't understand how tired a person was because they had family obligations all weekend,  well that pushed a button.

I'm tired all the time. If I don't get at least 8 hours of sleep then I'm ready for bed at noon. I push hard during the week and would like to fully participate in family functions, but I have to take a nap after grocery shopping. In fact, I have to take a nap or rest after many things I do now. Its part of the joys of Hashimoto's. Being functional requires 6 supplements, a special diet, a highly managed sleep schedule and "management" of stressors.

Do you know what causes me stress? People who open their mouths and say I don't understand tired! Hey, people does the medicine you take every morning make you nauseous?  Does a change in the weather make neurological process like speech difficult for you? Does physcial exertion fatigue your muscles to where they shake and or cramp? Does having five kids, a job and coaching not mean I understand tired? Probably not in their world, but I assure you I understand tired. When looking to give me an excuse next time, how about trying the dog ate it. That excuse doesn't push my buttons and we can all carry on!

Everywhere and No Where Fast

Its been a while since I've written a blog post.  This is in part to school starting and in part to my Hashimoto's going all haywire.  I've been on a roller coaster with my emotions, my energy and my weight.  Get on the scale on Monday and it will say 164.  Get on the scale Tuesday and it will say 155.  Get on the scale Wednesday and it will say 160. No one loses and gains weight that fast unless they have a thyroid condition that is out of control. I hate looking fat and dumpy.  I hate reaching for a pair of pants in the morning and not knowing if I'll be able to button them (even though I could the night before).

My energy level is all over the place too.  I go from hyper to lethargic in the matter of hours, and not at times that those energy levels are needed. I have plenty of energy around 10 pm. At noon I need a nap. This weird energy pattern does not make me the life of the party, nor does it lend itself to getting things done. There is not enough caffeine to keep me awake when the tiredness hits. Even my pinky is heavy. When the hyper stage hits my heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest. Not the most soothing feeling when your trying to go to sleep so you can wake up at 5am for work.

There have been daily bouts with nausea and vertigo.  Periods of starving to death followed by not wanting to eat anything at all. There are days that it's 8 pm and I realize all I've had to eat was a pop tart I chocked down in the car on the way to work at 6am. This is all thyroid related. Mentally I know that but when you enjoy preparing and eating food the way I do, it's depressing to realize where my current relationship with food is.

Either due to the wacky thyroid, or the rehabbing ankle that hasn't allowed me to run for the last month I'm very irritable.  Honesty,  I've never had much patience for stupid people or lazy people, but I've always been able to tolerate such things. Not recently!  There have been plenty of times in the last couple of weeks that I have gone to the bathroom to talk myself out of choking the bearer of one more task I don't have the energy for, or the off handed comment about how tight my pants look. I used to be able to let such things roll off, but lately I just want to slap the person in front of me. It also hasn't helped that my poor husband, who knows how to handle me when the world becomes too much, has himself been very busy at work and unavailable to talk me off the ledge.

To add insult to injury (or to just over load all my poor brain circuits) my hands have taken to swelling up. The people at work don't know how truly hard headed I can be. Most days I pass for a nice, upbeat, rational person. Imagine their surprise Friday when my finger swelled up so bad that I lost my wedding ring in the skin and I refused to let them cut it off. I'd lose my finger first before I'd allow anyone to cut my wedding ring off! The faces of the front off staff when I made that statement with my finger wrapped in an ice bag, before I attempted to pull said wedding ring off my finger, were shocked. I wanted to go cry and call my husband to come get me, but it was only 9am and there was testing to do and a football game to work, we'll you get the idea. I had to suck it up but looking down at my bruised ring finger during the day made me just want to cry some more.

My brain is everywhere,  but I feel like I'm not going anywhere fast in getting this Hashimoto's in check. I'm stuck and my anchor is busy. Running, cooking and writing that help ground me and keep me moving forward are either off limits or require too much energy to complete.  I guess there's some hope on the horizon.  I go get blood work this week and go to the endocrinologist in a couple of weeks. I just want to get back to the me I'm familiar with and I'm sure those around me would too.