I Curse You

My daughter is not good at waking up. She's groggy and fussy and usually a little hangry when she does. Any one of those isn't a preferable state for anyone, but a combo, in a 2.5 year old none the less, just sucks. When she was a baby the post sleep fussiness could usually be soothed with some snuggles and a snack of sorts. But now that she's a full blown toddler and can talk (a lot. My kid talks A LOT)... That groggy/fussy/hangry combo is incessant whining and an overall miserable disposition.

It doesn't matter what it is, where we are, or what we are doing, she is having none of it. Wake up in the morning and it starts with not wanting to get dressed. But she also wants clothes and out of jammies (if she still has them on). But no getting dressed. Yes dressed. Doesn't want to pick them out. But not what mommy picks out. She needs to pick them out. But she doesn't want to. Not mommy. Her. Not her. Not mommy. At some point I force clothes someone selected through kicks and tears and then battle again a few moments later with breakfast/shoes/going to the baby sitters/whatever the day entails all over again. It's gas-lighting at it's finest.

Recently I've been trying to take her out on my own and expand her world more. And I really want to enjoy these times with my darling girl, especially since we only have about 2-3 more weeks left of her being an only child. But god she can make that really hard. Because when we go on these mommy and me adventures, we typically have some sort of drive to the said adventure (suburbia, for all it's niceties severely lacks in walk-able and public transport accessible adventures). So she tends to fall asleep in the car, so when we get to the adventure she was so excited for...she is miserable and bloody hates it. 

Seriously, whatever it is. This girl will throw a fit. And want nothing to do with this and everything to do with this simultaneously and express that sentiment several times over with def-con 10 whining. It doesn't matter if it was a fleet of unicorns with ice cream covered in chocolate sauce and sprinkles in a bounce castle in Disney World. With a puppy because why the fuck not. It's a NO.

So I curse you car seat nap. Curse you with the fire of a 1000 suns and may the flames of hell consume you. You turn my darling girl into a total jerk which brings her waddling pregnant mommy to tears. Curse you.

I just wanted a dog

I just wanted a dog. I'd never had one before but I wanted one as an adult. A dog who I could walk and play with, who would protect me if I needed it and would be my companion. I wanted to take care of something and it would love me in return for it. So we got Bailey and I had what I wanted. I expected to have to deal with some accidents during the house breaking, her eating a few things she shouldn't and some frustration, but normal puppy stuff.

I did not expect to have to make the try-to-save or euthanize choice within the first week of being a pet owner. I did not expect to make that choice again 9 months later when knee gate occurred. I didn't expect to sink $2000 into her (now bionic due to the $2000) knees. I certainly didn't expect to leave my fiance and leave the dog with him after all that. I didn't expect (though I wasn't surprised) to have to find a new home for her when he couldn't take care of her. And I didn't expect my dad and mom to cave and let me have Bailey even though I pleaded, begged and cried for 5 days strait as I was trying to find a new home for her. So then I got Bailey for real again and then I had what I wanted.

So after all that, I'm a little lax and forgiving when it comes to Bailey. Because I'm just grateful that she's A: alive and B: all mine. But dr soc isn't as lax a pet owner as me and Bailey makes him nervous. And even though our dogs like each other, he's always going to be worried about Bailey and her behavior. So I'm in this awful place of feeling that one day I may have to choose between him and my dog. He makes me happy and with him I can have everything I've ever wanted. Bailey makes me happy because I've fought tooth and nail for her and she loves me unconditionally.

::whimper::. I just wanted a dog.

Long Distance

In my dating past, I have a few distance relationships (or had a portion that was distance). The distance always had reason to explain it (co-op, different schools, moved home to a rent free place while someone else finished their associates) and eventually they all ran their course. Bonus there was that when we did go our separate ways I didn't have to see the other person around. (I'm a firm believer in leaving the scene of the crime after a break up. Unless there is a reason to stay in touch, like you have children together, wash your hands and be done).

My ex and I were distance for a while, before we got engaged. He didn't take it well to say the least. Whenever he got sulky (which was often) and jealous (also often) his excuse was always he'd never done distance before so he didn't know how to deal with it. But I was afraid to rock the realtionship boat and cajoled his hurt ego, told him everything would be ok, moved back 3 months earlier then I intended and pushed for the engagement to pacify myself. Instead telling him to suck it up and 75 ran 2 ways. (A year after that I got my spine back, phew.)

Now as you faithful readers know, I'm currently in a distance relationship with dr soc. Obviously, I'm less than thrilled about it, but it's temporary. But this time around, I'm the whiny one wishing he was here or I was there, or we were at least in the same zip code. To add to the stress of the situation, he's trying to buy a house with me in mind and that's not exactly a sunshine and unicorns process when it's 2 different opinions. And if we wanted to get into a pissing war, he wins because I'm in a city I know with a social circle, and he doesn't really know Charlotte or anyone else there for the moment. So I'm being a whiny pants about this. And I know this, so I'm just trying to balance everything (lots going on over here with school and family and life, you know) and telling myself to suck it up.

Far Far Away

Dr soc started his new job today in Charlotte. Or as I call it, far far away.

To say that I miss him is an understatement. I know it's only a few months of being apart and there will be visits so it's not like we're completely sequestered from each other. This far far away isn't unmanageable either, and I'm not worried about our relationship in the slightest either. But I feel lonely without him in town.

Ever since his brother's wedding in early July, I've spent every night with him or at his house (which is now on the market if anyone wants to buy a house in Lexington). There were a few nights he had to go to Charlotte (one for the interview and others for orientation), but I house/dog sat when he was gone. And even though we just got back from a vacation together and spent a ton of time together (and I don't think he got too sick of me, so phew), and he left only 2 days ago, it's just tough knowing he's a 7 hour drive away and I won't see him a half hour after I get off work. I've gotten used to sleeping next to him, or at the very least in his bed, curled up on my side of the bed but with my head on his pillow.

I know this is just a short period of time, and as dr soc put it: we spend 4 months of not sleeping next to each other, but we get to sleep together every night after that. I know I'm just being whiny right now and in the grand scheme of things it's a tiny blip. And this is by far not the worse thing I've ever gone through and the outcome is more than worth it.

But far far away is still far far away. And I just miss him. It's as simple as that.

4 weeks

4 weeks. That's how my summer is broken up, in 3 separate 4 week increments of class. I just finished one 4 week session (fyi, now I see why you need an override to take 2 of these classes simultaneously, I don't recommend it). The next 4 week class starts the day after tomorrow (I thought it was an 8 week but nope, turns out it's 4). And then then a different/another 4 week of class the day after the middle class is done. (I'm taking 14 credit hours this summer)

And then I have 20 days between the end of that class and the start of fall semester.

Me want frozen yummy drink.

My Ideal Weight

My friend asked me what is my obsession with weight? Umm good question.
It's not so much my weight that I'm super obsessed with, more so my overall body image. Somewhere in that overall image, I made this connection: that if I weigh less, I'm a smaller, littler me. And little me equals pretty, right? Right?

Ok, I know how messed up that is. I'm blaming this severe lack of confidence completely on my ex, when he stopped looking at me. You may think I'm over exaggerating and I should be over it by now, but, it's a hard blow to recover from. There were other issues that lead to our demise and my confidence issues, but this where the bulk of my insecurities stem from. I won't bore you with the details, because well, they depress me. But yeah, he stopped looking, I got insecure and poof here we are.

I'm not doing all this fitness stuff with the goal to loose weight. Honestly. Scouts honor I'm not trying to loose weight. It's just, I know I can be a few (10) pounds lighter because I have been 10 lbs lighter and it was somewhat recently. So I'm not trying to get my 17 year-old self back (because that would be 15 lbs lighter w/no curves. I'll pass). But when I was 10 lbs lighter, well, there was at least some interest from the opposite sex.

I know how whiny this sounds and if I don't keep it myself in check I could very easily wind up down a scary path. So I'm really trying to not focus solely on the number on the scale. I'm focusing on cutting time off my halves, building my endurance, improving my flexibility, and toning up. Other overall health stuff, which will bolster some of my confidence issues as well. But even with all the fitness stuff, the weight is not coming off. I do think it's at least muscle that I'm building and well, that's ok weight. But I don't think I'm slimming down this training. And I need to be ok with that.

Pilates are the DEVIL

The burn is so deep in my core that I can't tell if it's coming from my abs or my back.

Like I said, pilates are the devil. Yes. The DEVIL.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Biology is GROSS

It happened. The lab I was dreading since this semester started. Ladies and gentleman, I had to dissect a fetal pig. When I saw the atlas and guide to the fetal pig's anatomy in my required textbook list, I was just hoping it was a joke. A sick joke, but a joke. And when the professor said we had to buy a dissection kit, I knew I would never see bacon the same way.

Yesterday was the day. And I was absolutely freaking the f*ck out. I whimpered as I walked into lab. The place smelled like cleaner and formaldehyde. Then bio-lab stockroom guy brings in the bin with all the piggies in their formaldehyde sealed bags. Two to a pack, how exciting! My stomach flipped (I thought it incredibly prudent to skip my between lecture and lab snack that day).

It was two people per pig, so at least I had a person with me. My poor lab partner had to deal with me squealing and borderline hyperventilating. But it was a team effort, and I eventually sucked it up once I got over touching the thing in the first place. I tried to console myself, rationalizing, I cook, I handle raw meat, I can do this. Umm, except that nothing I've ever cooked still had it's organs. And hair. Ok, why does a pig have hair? No seriously, don't tell me, I don't actually want to know.

But I calmed down enough, took a deep breath, gagged, tied the little guy (we had a boy pig) to the tray and cut. I even got to play with a scalpel. But there were moments I didn't do to good. I'll spare you the details of what set me off, because it's gross, but mainly because I don't want to remember it myself.

We played the what organ is this game (I think we cut off the gall bladder. Meh, like it has any use for it now) and get to clean up, but apparently we're not done poking/learning from the thing. The little oinker is in a bag with my name on it (no, seriously, we wrote our names on it), being kept for another week or 2. I have to do this again. OH. MY. GOD.

And just to add insult to injury, the dissection was only the first hour of the lab. We had to do a completely different lab the remaining 2 hours, one that did not involve cracking Piglet's ribs (too far?). In the midst of a place that smells of formaldehyde.

But hey, I didn't throw up like I had feared. And I didn't faint either, so thumbs up! And while I already knew this about myself, the lab made me 100%, completly, no if and or buts, sure, that I cannot be a doctor.

Allergies suck. And itch. And wheeze.

I'm getting besieged by my allergies. Just flat out attacked on all fronts. I'm stuffed up, yet my nose is running, I have a sinus headache, my eyes itch and I'm sneezing a lot. I'm running the gauntlet of symptoms. And it sucks donkey balls. (did that saying ever catch on? It should, I like it)

And nothing I take works. Due to the cornucopia of meth labs (makers would run into a pharmacy and swipe shelves of otc pills in seconds), drug companies altered their formulas and took out the stuff that meth makers use. You know, the part that actually works. So now, all the OTC stuff is utter bull sh*t. And yet I still buy it, thinking fingers crossed it's going to work.

Ok, some drug companies didn't change their formulas and that stuff is sold behind the counter now. You have to show Id, and they keep track of how many you buy and how many times you do. And even though it's the exact same pill that use to be sold over-the-counter, it's a controlled substance now. Ergo: more expensive. I guess since the pharm tech has to hand you something, it ups the cost. Maybe it's a service charge?

But I'm miserable this allergy season (this, right here (pointing a finger to emphasize point) is a season I do not like anything about). So I've been taking the rest of my Advil cold and sinus from my last cold to cope. And they're working pretty well. It's because they're good behind the counter pills.

So lesson learned for next year. Pony up, and buy the good drugs. I may have to sign 3 different waivers and promise them my first born, but I don't care.

Stupid meth heads, you ruined it for everyone.

Travesty

This happened a week or so ago, before school started. But I'm sharing this story now.

My coffee machine decided to die that morning. I don't know why or what wasn't working, and I didn't care to know why or what either. What I did want to know was who I had pissed off that the coffee gods decided to hate me that morning. And how could I make amends. Because this no coffee thing? Not cool.

Due to my general morning fog which was only increased by my lack of caffeine, I crashed my bare foot into the oven. And promptly yelled "F*CK!" Very, very loud. My car was at the mechanics then. And Bailey wasn't putting any weight on her back leg so it was time for another round of vet visits. (she doesn't "do" the annual appointment thing. She's ridiculously needy).

This was not shaping up to be a good morning at all. And I was getting stabby as a result. Somewhere in there, I knew the solution was to take a shower, put on pants, take the gimpy dog for her morning walk across the street and get a cup of coffee. Then call the vet, make an appointment, pick up my car, and get a new coffee maker. Because that's what a grown up would do.

But instead, I sat and sulked and pouted like a bratty 4 year old.

Ortho-tri something new

I hate my birth control.
This is a woman problem blog, so stop reading if you don't want to know.

While it is doing it's primary job, it makes one week a month absolute hell.

Oh no, not that week, the week before. My skin's worse, I feel like a whale, and I'll snap at anyone just for having the audacity to breath. I've always been moody the week before, but this is ridiculous. Frankly, I'm just a bitch. And I never even get to a good mood with these swings. No I go from I can somewhat tolerate people to wanting to throw myself off a cliff in 2 seconds. Or I want to strangle someone with their iPod cord. This isn't healthy.

It's not my body adjusting to the new kind of pill, it's had time to get use to it and it's just not working. So I hate it. I'm calling the doctor and I'm trying something new. Because I don't like feeling pathetic, and that's how I feel right now.

Still not done

Dammit to hell, I am still not finished going to the dentist! I was so convinced this was it today, I was getting the crown and then I was done until my next cleaning. And I did get a crown today, just a temporary one. The permanent one goes in three weeks from now.

I'm tired of the Novocain, the whirring/grinding/god knows what else noises, the smell of burning (and wtf? why is that smell coming from my mouth?) my jaw being sore, and the bills I'm going to be paying for-ev-er on. And today we added an acrylic tasting to mix things up a little, because you know, all the other things are just getting too routine. I'm just tired of it all. I don't think my dentist is though, she's making a killing off me (and the rest of my family too, I bet she LOVES us). In all fairness, I do like her and I'm very appreciative that she always passes the scary tools behind my head or under my chin where they are out of my vision line.

I've seriously lost count of how many times I've been to the dentist in the past month. I'm on 5 or 6. (I can't remember if she did one or two fillings) But whatever the number, oh my god can we just be done already?

Where my refund check is going:

Strait to my dentist. My mouth isn't in the greatest of shape. My dentist finished the root canal today, so I have a a permanent filling in there, but still need a crown on it sometime soon. But she wants to fill some different cavities on the other side and half of my mouth before the crown goes on. And until that happens, I should avoid really hard foods (so no peanut brittle for a while, not that I'm extremely disappointed in that). This is what I get for not going to the dentist for 3 years. Payback apparently, is a bitch.

But I'm getting this all fixed and over with so that I don't have to do this again. Because the scary tools make scary noises too. Grinding/whirring noises with burning smell from inside your mouth is nerve wracking.

Currently, I feel as if I have gotten punched in the mouth. To the medicine drawer!

Mother Nature is Mocking Me

So here I am, trying to balance school/homework, work, and training for a half marathon in a month. I'm trying to run outdoors. I really really am. But March is so, so, sooooo windy. And it's pissing me off. Serious pissing me off, screaming obscenities (which does not bode well for breathing) and crying frustrated tears (which does not bode well for hydration) while running because I'm so slow. Running into the wind literally feels like I'm hurling myself against a brick wall and I don't even have bruises/battle scars to show for it.

I would like to take 10-15 minutes off my time this half, but I don't think it's going to happen. At least with the way my runs have been going outside. I'll try to get miles on the treadmill/ indoor track at the gym. But it's not the same. Because running in a environmentally controlled cavern with a regulated pace and no incline (seriously, I hate inclines) is not the same as running on the street, exposed to the elements and 1000s of people around you. At least there are water stations along the way during a race (and I'll suck a gel pack down around mile 7).

But I did get some cuter running clothes, so maybe I won't feel as trollish at the gym anymore. And there's always the excitement of the race as well to push me through. I guess my goal should be the same this time: finish and not die. And it got me through the first race, it can get me through this one too. Plus: this half I get to run where the ponies run and less hills.

What Do YOU Wear to the Gym?

I wear shorts and a t-shirt (which is usually baggy). Sometimes I wear a running top, since those things are awesome, but I only own 2 of those, so I save them for my long runs or really hot days like I did last training (the hot days were all the time last year, I did a lot of laundry). And if I remember, I wear a head band to hold back my wispy bangs. Makeup? No. Jewelry? No. (I did run with my engagement ring though, not that that maters anymore).

I didn't know it was possible to feel under dressed at the gym. But today I was proven very wrong. Now I know I was one of the thinnest people there. Whoo hoo, I'm small, lucky me. But when you are surrounded by cute curvy girls in their pretty form fitting designer work out clothes, and 2 carats in each ear, olive skin, eyeliner that doesn't run, and they are barely breaking a sweat, flipping through a Glamor magazine with their pretty french nails, and you are dripping sweat through your baggy t-shirt, the mascara you put on 4 hours ago smeared across your cheeks, your legs look as pale and soft as butter, while you gasp for air bouncing on the treadmill while the whole thing shakes because you cannot find a good stride, you feel like an ugly awkward troll.

Now excuse me, I'm going to find a bridge to hide under.