A Time To Heal

Remember last week's five pound gain and the frustration that went along with it? Yesterday I was finally able to get to the office for my unfill.

If you'll remember, I got a 1.0 cc fill a little over two weeks ago (on April 6th) wherein I couldn't even get water down for most of that weekend. Five days later, I went in for a slight unfill of 0.5 cc. I was afraid to take the whole 1.0 cc out because I didn't want to have paid for nothing, and I felt like I truly needed a fill at the time. 

Suffice it to say that 0.5 cc was not enough. I was PBing at almost every meal. I was unable to eat any sort of meat. I could get down liquids and most soft/mushy foods, but I'm not a person who can live like that for extended periods of time (And you shouldn't have to with the band. That's not how it's supposed to work.) So I would keep trying the meat - small bites, chewchewchew, eat slowly, and still get stuck and PB. Almost every time. So what was happening is that my band/stomach/pouch/esophagus were constantly inflamed and angry with me because they were never getting a chance to heal from all the PBing I was doing. 

So like I said in my previous post, I went into this appointment yesterday with a plan: unfill A LOT and stay that way for a month to allow my body to heal. Fortunately, Kim wholeheartedly agreed with my plan. Unfortunately, Kim was the one who was going to perform my unfill. 

OH. MY. JEEBUS. 

But I'll get to that in a second. 

According to their numbers (which I don't agree with) I had 8.75 cc in my band. My calculation is that I actually had 10 cc yesterday before the unfill. But anyway, we were going off of her numbers, so I told her that I'd be okay with her taking half out. She agreed to take 4 cc out of my band and thought it was a very good idea to give myself a month to heal at that level. 

And then, out came the needle(s). 

Kim's first several fills with me were painless. One stick and in and out in a matter of seconds. Then something happened and she just wasn't getting it right. Several sticks and lots of mini pokes while the needle was in my stomach, but not in my port. And lots of alarm-raising scraping of the plastic sides of my port. Trust me, that feeling is NOT something I wish to repeat. And yet, every time I see Kim, I get to repeat it. 

For my first unfill (on 4/10), she had to stick me twice, and did the zillion-little-sticks thing and scraping-the-plastic thing for a bit before she was finally able to get in my port.

I noticed afterward that she was sticking me right above my port scar each time that she was having difficulty. Previously, when she (and Kristina) were able to get my port in one stick, the spot was right under my port scar. So, hoping to not have to go through this un-fun process, I mentioned this to her. Luckily, she's a nice, fun lady and didn't take this as me trying to tell her how to do her job. She seemed really surprised and felt around for my port again. She kept saying that it felt like it was right above the scar, and I kept telling her that all I knew was that when they're successful, the sticks are right under the scar. 

She stuck me once - and got nothing. A zillion little sticks and scrapes later, and she told me I could put my feet down (they have you lift your legs a couple inches to make the port easier to find) and rest for a minute. Raising your feet a few inches off the table for a sustained period of time is a surprisingly tough workout! 

She stuck me twice - and got nothing. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. At one point, she told me to relax and we were talking, and I didn't realize that she hadn't actually taken the needle out of my stomach. I looked down as we were chatting away, and there it was, just poking out of my body (with her holding on to it, of course). Strange. After resting for another minute or so, she tried again. Still nothing. 

She stuck me three times - and got something. Unfortunately, the something that she got was the plastic side of my port. She jammed the needle right into the damn thing! After pulling on the syringe and not getting any liquid, she realized that it wasn't in the right spot and went back to her usual practice of a zillion little sticks and a zillion little scrapes. 

Eventually, she found the damn thing and I (very literally) breathed a sigh of relief. She took out 4 cc, and all of a sudden I started feeling a really painful pinch in the area. I kept saying "Ow! Ouch! What are you doing?!" and she looked at me like I was crazy. Turns out, what she was doing was pulling the needle out of my port and stomach. The BENT needle. Ask me how it feels to have a bent needle pulled out of you. Go ahead. 

IT FUCKING HURTS. 

Apparently, when she jammed the damn thing into the side of my port, she did it hard enough to bend about a quarter of an inch of the tip of the needle. After she pulled it out, she kind of looked at it, then looked at me, and gave me this sheepish little "oopsie!" kind of smile. 

Oopsie, my ass. 

She did have one small shard of brilliance, though. After she shredded my insides pulled out the needle, she circled the blood spot with a pen and asked me for my phone so she could take a picture of the "successful" spot. Successful here is a VERY relative term. But at least she'll have a picture to go off of if she ever touches my port again. Which I'm very doubtful of, since I think I'd have better success if I gave my two-year-old a syringe and said, "go at it!"

 

You can see two teeny tiny pokes very close to each other at the top, which are from 10 days ago. Then the three other pokes are from her blindly playing pin the tail on the port yesterday. You can see how the one on the bottom is bigger than the others - that's because of the bent needle. And the redness to the right is what happens when you give me a band aid. Is anyone else "allergic" to the adhesive?

And as a side note - I'm so glad I'm a good healer! Look at that pretty scar! :-)

In any event, I feel so much better after having 4 cc taken out. I haven't had any trouble eating or drinking, and it almost felt "weird" to me to not get stuck. It's amazing how, even though it's so uncomfortable and unpleasant, you can get used to a feeling like that so easily. 

For now, I'm taking a month off of fills and weigh-ins. And I'm feeling very good about that.  

Ask and ye shall receive...

Apparently I intrigued a couple of you (hi Cheri and Frances!) with my frog-making capabilities. So I borrowed an extra set of hands and had my lovely husband tape it for you! A couple of things - I was thinking earlier about it and it kind of looks like an ostrich or snake, too. So that's why you hear me emulate those animals (to the best of my ability - ha!) in the video.

I honestly have no recollection of learning this, and yet, of all the things that could take up space in my brain, this stuck. And as a side note: I showed Logan that I could do this the other night and now he requests the frog and various other animals. It's really hard to explain to a two-year-old that I know how to make a frog with my hands but can't make a cow, piggie, or sheep.

Enjoy! (ribbit ribbit)

TTT - Pet Peeve Edition

So thanks to the lovely (and pregnant with a sassy baby girl) Laura Belle, we've got Ten Things Thursday - wherein I get to cheat and still feel like a productive blogger. Love it!

I've been stressed lately, which usually makes annoying things stand out as even more annoying than they would be on a regular basis. So it's not very hard for me to come up with a Ten Things Thursday full of things that annoy me. Here goes, in no particular order:

{1} People who "pimp" out their babies on Facebook for "I'm the cutest baby in the whole, wide world" contest votes. I don't care how much I like you, or how cute your baby is - I'm not going to go vote so that he/she can "beat out" other one-year-olds for the title. Quit asking me to!

{2} People who drive on the shoulder when traffic is stopped on the highway. Unless someone in your car is having a baby or a heart attack, get your ass back in line and wait like the rest of us! 

{3} People over the age of eight who shuffle their feet when they walk. For some reason, that irks the crap out of me. Pick up your feet, it's not that hard!

{4} People who say/post things (on FB usually) to fish for attention. There's one girl on my friends list who does this constantly with status updates like, "Heading to Children's with DS", or "OMG, I am so stressed out and I just don't think I can take any more of this!", which comes off to me like you just want somebody to ask what's wrong with you and give you sympathy/attention. 

{5} My husband, who, after putting The Kid to bed last night promptly fell asleep in his clothes with the lights on in our bedroom. I came in and laid down while checking blogs and FB on my phone. After about half an hour, I woke him up to tell him that he needed to set his alarm because I was going to bed. He says, "You're going to bed?! I thought we were going to talk about X,Y, and Z?!" Um, yeah. We were going to talk about those things before you spent the past hour passed out. Now it's WAY past my bedtime! Gah. Men. 

{6} The fact that a fricking salad costs me eight dollars at Panera. Or anywhere else for that matter. Who in the world decided that it was fair to charge $8 - $12 for a few ounces of chicken and a bunch of lettuce? How many bags of lettuce could I buy at the store for that money?! Ugh. Also, {6A} that I can't buy Panera's Honey Tangerine dressing in the store and there doesn't seem to be anything similar on the market. I need it in my life and don't want to pay $8.08 every time I feel the craving. 

{7} Being on the weight loss teeter-totter. I really can't handle all this bouncing around. I just want to be able to post some sort of loss consistently. I am beyond frustrated by this. 

{8} That people/society seem to be in a pretty big hurry for MY son to grow up. He should have been off the bottle the second he turned one (he is off the bottle, but it was more like 15 months when we kicked the habit completely - gasp!). He should be off the pacifier by now (we just did this one a few weeks ago, at 27 months - gasp!). He should be potty trained by now (we're not even close to trying this and I'm not even remotely concerned about it - gasp!). He should be sleeping in a "real" bed by now (my kid likes his crib and I like the safety of it. he's not moving out of it any time soon - gasp!). Stop it! Stop trying to rush my kid into being an adult! This time is already flying like crazy, and I don't feel the need to pressure myself, my family, or my freaking two-year-old into thinking that he's falling behind already. He has been a person for all of two years, for jeebus' sake. Give the kid a break and let him (and me) enjoy being a baby for the short time it lasts. [End Mama Bear rant.]

{9} That my grocery store NEVER has enough lines open. I went grocery shopping last night. Two lanes open - that's all. Srsly? Ugh. 

{10} That money makes the world go 'round and my dreams of being an intrepid world traveller/travel show host/owner of my own far away island where I can run naked on my own damn beach (in slow motion, Baywatch style) and get sand in unspeakable places will never happen. Oops, did I say too much?

Mish Mash

Randompants post ahead. You've been warned.

1) The scale is being nice to me right now. Let's hope it sticks around for Wed-nes-day Weigh-In time. I'm pretty sure it's mostly because I've been drinking TONS of ice cold water while at work. Like, TONS. Did you know that drinking very cold things helps you burn more calories? Your body has to work harder to regulate your internal temperature when you do, thus, calorie burn! I don't know exactly how many more calories it burns, but I can totally attest to the temperature regulation thing. I have been FREEZING at work since I've been drinking all this ice water. And like I said, the scale likes me right this very second, so I'm gonna go with it.

2) Easter weekend was weird, but in a good-ish way. For literally the first time EVER, we didn't spend the holiday rushing between families and worried about whose feeling were getting hurt by us not being there. We spent the weekend with just the three of us, doing whatever we wanted to do. It was so nice. We gave The Kid his basket Sunday morning, then enjoyed the breakfast bar at Frisch's Big Boy, then had an in-home egg hunt. Nice and relaxed, and I enjoyed every minute of it.

3) That's a lie. Most of the weekend was nice and relaxed. Except for the part where we decided that since the whole family was home and we had no plans, this would be the weekend we finally broke The Kid of his pacifier ("passer" or "nuk nuk" to him) habit. A long time ago, we restricted his passer use to what we call "night night and naps", so he knew that unless he was sleeping in his crib, he couldn't have them. And I've known for a while that we need to kick the habit completely at some point, but I haven't wanted to do it.

Well, since we put in our 60 day notice to our apartment complex and will be moving in with my in-laws soon, and I knew that every weekend after this would be me and The Kid alone while The Hubs is working on getting the in-laws house ready, and I wanted to have the habit kicked before we moved, this was the time. (Nice run-on sentence, Anna.) So I cut small holes in his nuk nuks and left them out for him to find. He realized they were "broken" and I asked him if he wanted to throw them away. (That kid LOVES throwing things away.) So all was well and good until it was actually time to take a nap or go to bed.

OH the pity. "Mama? A new nuk nuk? Pwwwweeeeeeeeeease?!" It's a good thing we had thrown them all in the trash or I would have totally given in several times this weekend. It has been a challenge, to say the least, but he has taken naps without his passer both days, and fell asleep (after a long bout of crying) both nights. It helps that we gave him Buzz Lightyear and Woody action figures instead. LOL

4) It's Opening Day!!!

Born and raised a Cincinnati girl, today is the second best day of the year. I didn't realize until recently, though, that other cities with major baseball teams don't go crazy for opening day like we do. We love our Redlegs. Did you know that we're the oldest baseball team in America? And did you know that because of that, we ALWAYS get to play at home on opening day? It's a BFD. (Big effing Deal, if you're not down with the language. LOL)

It is really depressing to me to not be a "true" Cincinnatian anymore. Even though it will always be my home town and I will always love that city, I (very unfortunately) keep moving farther and farther north to be with my husband. I'm from Cincinnati, he's from a town north of Dayton, so when we moved in together before we got married, we chose a town in the middle. Now that we're moving in with his parents, I'm going all the way up to his hometown. And for people there, Dayton is the closest "city", so they consider themselves Daytonians. I don't want to be a Daytonian. I am a Cincinnatian. Ugh.

Anyhoo, Go Reds!

Wednesday Weigh In and Meeting A Blogger Crush

This is my 300th blog post! What do I get for that?

Last Week: 244.2 lb
This Week: 246.6 lb
Gain: 2.4 lb

I was doing so well. Bringing my lunch, tracking my carbs, calories and protein. And then the french fries happened. I picked the absolute worst time (10 pm the night before a weigh in) and the worst food (Rally's french fries and a Hi-C - carb city much?) to give in to a craving. And today I'm super bummed about it.

AKA: "The Devil"

But look! I didn't hide from it! I didn't pretend it doesn't exist. It's here. And it will go away.

It's one weigh in. One give-in to a craving in an otherwise great food week (so far.) Meh, whatevs.

In other totally awesome news:

Last night, I got to meet one of my girl crushes - Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess!

Darn you, Books & Co. employee, for not being able to take clear pictures!

If you're not familiar with her blog or her memoir, Let's Pretend This Never Happened, Jenny kind of comes with a warning. She finds humor in very offbeat things. She says things people just don't say. She's wonderfully weird. She cusses. A lot.

In fact, Books & Co. told her she couldn't cuss during her reading and talk, so she decided to replace all of the cuss words with "hippopotamus". She chose to read aloud the third chapter in her book, called "Stanley the Magical Talking Squirrel" (in which her taxidermist father scars she and her little sister for life by making them believe that a roadkill squirrel is alive and speaks to him...seriously, you just have to read the book.) Originally, she was going to read a different chapter, but it had too many hippopotamuses in it, so she chose the "cleanest" chapter, which was still chockablock with hippopotami.

As a side note, one of the things I absolutely LOVE about her book is that she tells these completely outrageous stories - and remember, it's a memoir, so it's supposedly a recollection of her life - and the stories are so ridiculous that you think, "No way. You're making that up. That didn't really happen." And then you turn the page, and there's a picture showing that they really did have a pet raccoon named Rambo that they dressed up in pajamas.

One of the funniest parts of the book signing was when she went on a small side tangent about fellatio and Texas law. And how her friend got her father to pay for a ticket by telling him that fellatio was Spanish for "speeding". Probably a "you had to be there moment", but hilarious nonetheless. 

On a serious note, though, Jenny struggles with mental illness on a daily basis - anxiety disorder, impulse control disorder, and depression are among the illnesses she has dealt with, spoken about, and raised awareness of. She shared some great advice that someone (I can't remember who now, which bothers me) gave her when she was about to have a panic attack over recording her audio book. She sent a frantic email to this person (ugh, who was it?!) and they sent back one sentence that changed her life:

"Pretend you're good at it."

Now, Jenny uses that advice when she's near a panic attack, an agoraphobic woman faced with standing up in front of hundreds of people on her book tour. It was totally a takeaway for me, applicable in so many areas of my life. I'm going to try to remember it from now on - whatever may come my way, whatever paralyzes me with fear, whatever I think there's just no way I can accomplish - I'm gonna just pretend I'm good at it and see where it takes me. 

It was a great night. I'm glad I went. 

And you should totally read that book. 

TTT (Around The World Edition)

Oh, dear pregnant and beautiful Laura Belle, what would we do without you and your Ten Things Thursday? The wonderful time in bloggy mcbloggerton land where I get to drone on about randomness and still feel accomplished. (Oh, wait. That's pretty much every time I post.) But I digress...

Uno: What does "prime the band" mean? I have heard some people say that drinking a certain amount of water before you eat "primes the band". What is that exactly? Just something I've wondered for a while.

Deux: Thank you all for the kind comments and responses to yesterday's post. Often times, we are our own harshest critics, and it is so wonderful to have you all here to remind me that I don't have to be so darn mean to myself all the time! Plus, y'all had some great tips on organizing and getting stuff done which I'll be trying to implement in the near future.

Three: Do you know the blog Young House Love? On a post yesterday, they linked to a company called A Vintage Poster, wherein I found this gem which was so apropos to my Whiny Wednesday post. I just need to pick a place to start and get to gettin' rather than feel so paralyzed by everything.

Vier: I'm running out of languages, gonna have to start googling soon. Did you even notice? :)

Fimm: School continues to stress me out. It just doesn't seem possible that I will be able to complete all my assignments, turn them in, and have them graded (which takes 3-5 days for each) by the 31st. Darn me and that procrastination monster.

Sex: (Well, Latin, you saucy minx...) I'm not having any. (badum ching!)

Sette: I have been obsessed with Olive Garden lately. I wish I were kidding when I tell you that I have had it four times in the past seven days. Cheese ravioli rocks my socks.

Juróom ñett: I once worked with a guy from Senegal. His native language was Wolof, which is just fun to say. (Pronounced "WOHL-ahv"). He was also fluent in French and English. He got very offended if he called your name and you answered with "What?" In his strong Wolofian/French accent, he would say, "Don't say what to me. It is rude." I am reminded of him several times a week when Logan calls for me and I say, "What?" 

Nau: The Bloggess is coming to Dayton next Tuesday for a book signing. I'm going with a friend from high school. Although, I bought the electronic version of her book, so short of having her sign my Kindle, I think I'm going to have to shell out more moolah for a book I already own. Blah to that. 

Tō: I work for a regional group of retail furniture stores. Many times in the almost-two-years I've worked here, I've had friends or family ask about getting my (pretty decent) discount. I'm too chicken to do it for them because I don't really know how the process works and I'm afraid I'll get caught. Wimpy McWimperton, right here, buddy. Not sure why that popped into my head as a TTT, but thereyougo.

Blogger challenge: List all 10 languages in the comments! I gave you lots of hints...

Everyday I'm Shufflin'...(a long semi-rant)

Saturday was my 31st birthday. I decided long ago (never to walk in anyone's shadow) to do a 5k to celebrate this wonderful occasion. So I picked The Shamrock Shuffle. It turned out to be a HUGE race, with over 5,000 participants.

MFN and I before the race. It was COLD.

This race was so poorly organized, but I didn't really realize how bad it was until later that night. Random things would happen throughout the experience that I would kind of question, but because of the excitement of being there, I just kind of let them go. But now, after the adrenaline is gone, I'm really kind of bummed about a lot of things. 

1) The "festival" area where the before and after block parties were held was A MESS. Everything was tightly packed in a small space, when they had tons of room that they could have spread out into. They were giving away free food both before and after the race, but it was stuff that I would NEVER consider eating at 8 am - Cool Ranch Dorito Tacos from Taco Bell, Chips and Guacamole from Qdoba, Frozen Yogurt from Menchie's Frozen Yogurt (it was like 30 degrees outside!). Re-donk. 

2) The starting line for the races was a short walk away from the festival area, but (this is hard to explain, so I'm going to try my best) the only way to get to the starting line was from one direction. But the direction we were all coming from headed straight for the front of the pack, the front of the starting line. So people didn't realize that they had to keep walking and go to the back of the pack if they were walkers/with strollers/with dogs, etc. They just walked up to the mass of people and stopped, not realizing that they were in the front of the line. The start and first half mile of that race was a complete clusterf***. 

3) My second biggest pet peeve of the whole thing - they had no mile or km markers along the whole race! Who "professionally organizes" a 5k and doesn't put up mile markers?! Natalie and I aren't cool enough to have runner's Garmins or anything like that, so we had to go off of our estimated time. It's a really good thing that I thought to look at my phone as we were crossing the starting line, or we would have had absolutely NO idea about our approximate location on the course. 

4) The finish line signage was backwards! We were moving along and I saw a big thing of signage up ahead of us, but it was facing the other direction, so I thought there was no way we were headed for the finish line. Usually, the word "FINISH" is facing you, and that's how you know. Not with this ass backwards race. The "FINISH" signage was facing the freaking spectators! WTF, dude?

5) They were completely unprepared for the waves of finishers at the line. Nobody was manning the water stations, so people were piling up trying to get water out of big plastic cases. There was nobody directing people to/where to turn in their timing chips. As a result, Natalie and I didn't even realize we still had ours until we were eating breakfast at IHOP later! Now we have to waste time and a stamp to mail them in. 

The backwards finish line. High on thinking we had completed our goal. But did we?

6) And my biggest pet peeve about this stupid race? The organizers posted on their FB page later that evening that the 5k course was actually shorted. Remember back up at number four when I said I thought there was no way we were actually headed for the finish line at that point? I knew something was wrong. I knew the numbers didn't add up. I thought we had to keep going around and head into the finish corral from the front, because it just didn't feel right. And our race time seemed really freaking good for two girls who hadn't trained much at all and who walked the vast majority of the course. Well, la ti da, no wonder our times were so good - instead of doing 3.1 miles, we only did 2.8. They shorted the course by three tenths of a fracking mile! Instead of a birthday 5k, I did a birthday 4.5k. I was robbed. 

And you know, I try to stay positive. At least I got out of bed. At least I paid the $30 entry fee. At least we did it even though it was butt ass cold. At least. But at the same time, there's something about that distance. Something about officially going 3.1 miles, that I feel like we didn't really accomplish our goal. Even though we thought we were doing it at the time, we didn't. It's a bummer. 

But we did have fun. Natalie worked really hard to distract me through the parts where I wanted to die. We gossiped about girls' jiggly butts in their too-tight running pants and tried to figure out which ones were wearing underwear and which ones weren't. At one point, we started singing songs to keep our brains occupied. We would sing until we forgot the words, and then pick up another song. I'm sure the people around us hated us, but I really don't care. We traded sweaty gloves back and forth when our hands got too cold or hot. We plotted our outfits for next year, if we decide we're crazy enough to do this again.

We did have fun, and that's what birthdays are supposed to be about. Not-really-a-5k-5ks and all. 

Bad Pictures of a Recent Project

But before we get to that -

I have a slight obsession with these:

And I will usually have two or three (five is 200 calories, so 40 calories each) after lunch at work. And y'all know that Dove is famous for their little affirmations or sayings that are printed on the inside of the wrapper. You know, they usually say things that aim at getting you to slow down and indulge in a "moment" or whatever.

However, I have noticed two recently that really kind of irk me. One that says "Chocolate Loves Unconditionally", and this one that I just unwrapped today:

Really, the "Chocolate Loves Unconditionally" one is the one I have a major problem with. I could totally be a Debbie Downer who thinks too much about this stuff, but when obesity is such a problem in this country, and when eating disorders so often center around emotional needs, it seems so irresponsible for a chocolate company to feed into that with these "comforting" messages of love by chocolate. Chocolate does NOT love unconditionally. Chocolate doesn't love at all. And an overweight person who is dealing with their emotions by way of comfort food is probably going to read that and go, 'Aww....chocolate loves me. I should eat more of it because it makes me feel good!" While they're not addressing their emotional issues at all.

I don't know. It just bugs me.

But on to my project that has been taking up all my time for the past couple of months. My friend Tonja is pregnant with her second baby (another girl!) and The BFF threw her a shower this weekend. I decided a couple months ago, because I apparently didn't learn my Christmas Dish Cloths lesson and I'm an idiot who is a glutton for punishment, that I would crochet her a baby blanket.

Unlike dish cloths, I was not up until 3 am the morning of the shower working on the blanket, amazingly enough. I finished it at 11:30 pm the night before, thankyouverymuch. I wanted to make a ripple/chevron afghan, so I scoured the interwebs to find a simple pattern, and totally scored with an amazing Youtube tutorial for a pattern called "Lazy Waves". If you're a crocheter, the whole thing is nothing but Double Crochet (DC) and Double Crochet Together (DCTog or DC Decrease) stitches. SUPER simple, even I could do it!

Anyway, as I began working on it, I slowly started falling in love with it, even though it was a huge PITA (Pain In The Ass). Even though it was simple, I was using very fine/soft baby yarn, so the stitches were super small and slippery. One row, at the beginning, took me more than 30 minutes to do. There are 82 rows in this blanket. So even when I got a little faster, and each row was taking me about 20 minutes, you're looking at at least 1,640 minutes of work on this afghan. Not to mention all the weaving in of ends I had to do after changing between colors. And if you're curious, like I was, 1,640 minutes is more than 27 hours. Tonja's lucky I like her.

So by the time I was finished and had invested 27 hours of my sweat and tears into this thing, I was kind of sad to see it go. Before I wrapped it up, I took a bunch of pictures of it. But the lighting in my apartment is horrible, so they don't really show how pretty it really was. If you're interested, I used Bernat BabySoft and Softees yarn for this project. I used one whole large skein of hot pink and less than one large skein each of the Burl Gray and White. The final size was probably 2.5 feet by 4 feet-ish. I forgot to measure.

Without any further ado, the bad pictures:

It was a huge hit! Tonja loved it, and the little girls at the shower all wanted to be wrapped up in it at once. It was so worth all the time I put into it, and I hope her baby girl enjoys it! 

For now, though, I have to force myself to not start any more crochet projects because I have so much else going on. And I know that if I did start one, I would totally use it to procrastinate from doing any of the things I really need to be doing...*cough*SCHOOL*cough*. 

What about you guys? What is your go-to procrastination method? Crafts? Books? Hiding under the covers and pretending everything outside the bed doesn't exist? Tell me! 

Wednesday Weigh-In

Last Week: 247.8
This Week: 247.8
No change

And I'm all, "eh, whatever" about that right now. It's not a gain, and it would have been nice to see the numbers I was seeing on Monday after a weekend of being so sick that I didn't eat anything for almost 48 hours. But that is the chance you take with being a daily weigher, and I also knew that once I was feeling better and started eating again, some of that weight would come back. It is what it is - I have too many other things on my mind right now to be disappointed in a wash week.

Would you like to step inside my head? Draz did something similar recently, and I found it fascinating. But really, I just have way too much crap going on and can't focus on any one thing, so I'm gonna write them all down to try to make sense of them. Here's the shit storm that is my mind, in no particular order:

1. Work. I'm not particularly happy in my job and I also don't work as hard as I could. Guilt plus general apathy does not equal the most productive Anna, which creates more guilt. Also, February has been and will continue to be a whirlwind of training events that I just don't have the energy to organize and host. 
2. School. I have seriously hit zero hour with school. My term ends on March 31st, but I have to have all of my "tasks" (19 - yes, you read that right, 19 - papers and one science experiment) finished about a week before that to give them time to get graded. How many of my 19 papers and one science experiment do I have finished? Zero. Zip. Zilch. Nada. None. And it's all my fault. 
3. Moving. I haven't really talked about this at all because I have a really hard time forming words around it. After MANY protests and tears, I have finally agreed for our family to move in with my husband's parents. For an unspecified amount of time, but probably at least a year. There is so much emotion surrounding this for me that I could probably write a year's worth of blog posts about it. I'm grateful that they're willing to take us in, but apprehensive and anxious about the change. Suffice it to say, I just don't want to do it.
4. Moving Logistics. In addition to the fact that moving in with my in-laws is not high up on my bucket list, there is A LOT  of work that has to be done in order for it to be possible. All by April 30th. The in-laws and The Hubs have to strip out a storage area down to the bare insulation and completely renovate the room. They have to add heat to one side of the house. They have to run wiring for internet. They have to go through three large rooms of accumulated gark and sort/store it all. Then we have to pack up our entire apartment and either move it to what storage area they have left or to a storage unit. I am paralyzed by the weight of it all and can't really see how it is all going to work out right now. 
5. Valentine's Day. Probably the least of my worries right now, but something that keeps nagging my brain like a gnat on speed. I completely forgot about the holiday until I started hearing all the commercials on the radio. And now it's the day before and I will have to brave the Hallmark store with all the last-minute husbands. 
6. Over-Estimating Time Constraints. Again. Sometime in January, I decided to make a gift for a person who may or may not currently be reading this blog. The time to deliver the gift is rapidly approaching and said gift is nowhere near complete. I had time, then I still had time, and now I have no time. I have been stressed out about it and working on it like a mad woman every day at lunch and after work. Mom guilt is killing me right now because my eyes are plastered on this project all night instead of on my kid. The Hubs has been super helpful, though, with trying to keep Logan Man occupied so I can make some progress. As of right now, I believe I will be able to finish it in time, but it is going to be very close. Probably something like crocheting the last of the Christmas dish cloths at 3 am Christmas morning. Something like that. 
7. A Rapidly Approaching 5k. It's coming and I'm not ready for it. I have been so lazy/preoccupied with other things that I haven't given much time or thought to training. I am sad to say that I haven't been back to the fitness center since those two days in a row sometime back in January. I need to suck it up and take five minutes at night to put my lunch and workout clothes together so that I can get some training done. However, if I train during lunch, I can't work on my gift project during lunch. So right now, because the gift deadline is much closer than the 5k deadline, gift is winning. 
8. Crappy Sleep and Vivid Dreams. I haven't been sleeping well lately, and it seems like when I finally get to sleep, all I'm doing is having very vivid dreams about things that I don't want to think about. So even when I'm sleeping, I'm stressed out. I am exhausted and feel like I just can't win. 

I can't think of anything else right now, but this almost qualified for a Ten Things Thursday...maybe I should have saved it for tomorrow. Oh well. It's here now, so it stays. 

This is just one of those oh so joyous times in life where it just seems like everything is being piled on top of me so fast that I can't dig out and can't breathe. I know that it will all work out, and I keep trying to remind myself that once the gift is finished, I can work on the school and the 5k. And once The Hubs' parents get rooms cleared out, I can start packing and moving our crap ton of stuff. And once May 1st comes around, everything on that list except for work and my crazy dreams will have come and gone. Nothing is permanent. These things are temporary. 

It's all temporary. Right?

A (Very Literal) Scale Victory

We weight loss bloggers tend to write a lot about Non-Scale Victories (NSVs), and save our Literal Scale Victories for weigh in days. Nuh-uh. Not today, sistas. I have a very literal scale victory and I'm going to share it with you. And it's not even a Wednesday weigh-in day.

Okay, so I've droned on and on about the company fitness center, and the classes, and the trainer, and blah blah blah. It's all good stuff - great for general health and well being.

But there's also a more sinister component to that room...

Cue mystery music here...dun dun duuuuuun! 

(Oh, and in this picture, you can also see the comfy couch that I use when I'm crocheting during my lunch breaks. LOL)

Anyway, that damn doctor's scale. It has not been my friend. Every day that I weigh, it usually weighs me in about 2-3 pounds heavier than my scale at home. And, unfortunately, with that scale being in a public place, and at work, I can't exactly weigh in in the buff, like I usually do. So I know that a portion of the weight difference is in the clothes I'm wearing.

But still, it's a big, fat bummer to weigh in under 250 at home and then come in to work and weigh more than that every day. I have been patiently waiting for the day that I was far enough away from 250 at home to literally tip the scales under 250 at work.

And TODAY WAS THAT DAY, kids.

Today was the day when I stepped on that scale, fully clothed, and pushed the big 50 pound weight over...50...100...150...200...250. Then I moved that little single pound weight thingy allllll the way over to zero, and bonk. Too heavy!

So I slid that happy little 50 pound weight back to 200, and slid the single pound weight thingy almost allllll the way over in the other direction, and blahdow! I'm under 250 fully clothed on a "real" scale. Holy shitballs. (Pardon my French.)

For some reason, it is so much huger (it's a word now) to weigh in under 250 on this scale than it is on my digital guy at home. I think it's the tactile-ness (again, a word) of it. The fact that you physically have to move the weights over to balance the scale. And the fact that ever since I first set foot on that damn thing, I have automatically slid it all the way over to 250, then even farther up the small scale. So moving that 50 pound weight back to the left about an inch just feels so enormous to me.

Peace out, 250s. Don't expect a postcard, because I will NOT be missing you. Oh, and tell your friend 240 that I'm coming for a visit soon!

Well, hi there, LB!

Just a quick note to say "Howdy do!" to Charming Shoppes, Lane Bryant's parent company. Thanks for visiting my blog...

I hope I didn't hurt your feelings with my previous post about your wonky sizing techniques. In all seriousness - if you want a girl to give you a few pointers, I'd be glad to help you out.

Thanks for visiting, and feel free to leave a comment next time! :)

Prelude

Dictionary.com defines prelude as "a preliminary to an action, event, condition, or work of broader scope and higher importance." I think that's pretty fitting here. 

So this is it - Day One of my pre-op diet. Eek!

I had a tiny OH SHIT moment yesterday when I was heading out to lunch and realized that it was my last "old" lunch. I had Olive Garden, which is kind of symbolic of the life I used to lead that got me here. Then last night, we had Applebee's. Not as a "last meal", because it's not even an absolute favorite of mine, but I did enjoy a variety of nutritionally void foods.

Since I hadn't seen my adorable kiddo for a few days, I was jonesing for some fun time with him, so we worked on our Halloween pumpkins for a bit before bedtime. I bought three Mr. Potato Head pumpkin kits for us this year because I figured they were more age appropriate for Bubs than carving. Plus, WAY less mess. Score!

Can I just tell you how ridiculously fluttery my ovaries get when I see my husband do things like this:

Men with tools. Serious concentration. 

After we got Bubs to bed, I went to work on a plan of attack for my pre-op diet. I knew I had a hodge podge of protein shakes and mixes hanging out, so I went about organizing them.

Being unsure = Shopping spree

Then today, I made a spreadsheet to try and keep everything making sense.

Hi, my name's Anna, and I'm a spreadsheetaholic.

I packed a bag full of everything I would need today: 

• Crystal Light Energy mix in Wild Strawberry
• GNC Total Lean RTD shake in Vanilla Bean
• EAS AdvantEdge RTD shake in Chocolate Fudge
• Sugar Free Jell-o in Strawberry
• Kroger Brand "Vitamin Water" in Tropical Splash

I wish I would have thought ahead and sliced some mini cucumbers to bring as a snack. I didn't think about how much I would want to actually chew something. Womp womp. But, as Scarlet O'Hara says, tomorrow is another day, and I will think to pack cucumbers then. 

Well, Scarlet didn't say that last part, but if I remember correctly, she did have a thing for radishes. Wait, was it radishes or turnips? I don't know, and I'm too lazy to ask Mr. Google, so argue amongst yourselves on that one, and somebody let me know what the consensus is.  

Anyhoo...

I couldn't sleep last night for thinking about today. But I'm doing okay so far. I have spreadsheeted all I can spreadsheet, including a form to keep track of my intake, which was really nothing more than a gratuitous attempt to feed my Sharpie addiction:

Any excuse to feed my spreadsheet/Sharpie addiction...

But I think it will actually be handy to have. And so far, my coworkers are playing along nicely by not cooking anything yummy smelling in the microwave. Although, in about half an hour, I will be accompanying a colleague to lunch. She is literally the only work-related person who knows about my surgery. (She does contract work for my company and we work closely together. She isn't an actual employee of my company, and doesn't actually work in my office every day.)  Luckily, she is bringing her lunch, so it's not like we'll she'll be eating at a yummy restaurant and completely torturing me. 

I have a feeling this whole process is going to be mind over matter. I don't really FEEL hungry, but it's just what you do around lunchtime, you know? Plus, I usually need that hour away from my desk in order to refresh for the afternoon and not totally want to kill myself by 2 pm. Do I drink my second protein shake while I'm with her just so I have something to do with my hands? That's probably not the smart answer. Maybe I'll take a flavored water with me. 

So here's where we stand on THE LIST:

1. Blood work
2. Fitness Consultation
3. Nutrition Consultation
4. Sign Pre-op Paperwork
5. EKG
6. Start pre-op diet (10/24)
7. Pay in full (10/24)
8. Pre-op physical (10/26)
9. Stop taking all medications (11/1)
10. Start Hibiclens (11/4)
11. Pick up post-op meds (11/5)
12. SURGERY DAY (11/7)
13. Post-op Follow-Up (11/14)
14. First Fill (12/7)

Oh yeah...number seven. Ho-ly Jeebus. After The Hubs gets off work this afternoon, he's driving over to the surgeon's office and handing over $9, 550. We are financing $8,000 through Care Credit, and handing over $1,550 in cold, hard cashola. (Well, "debit cardola" doesn't quite roll of the tongue.)

After that, it's officially official and there's no turning back. Not that I want to, of course, but I'm still slightly wigged out about the big dealiness of all this. It's just how I roll with change and new things. Maybe getting it paid for will help me kind of just give in to it all. Accept my fate. LOL

Oh, and some stats: At my first visit to the surgeon's office (9/27) I weighed 270.0. This morning, I weighed in at 263.8. 

And, randomly and sadly, I got an email that my surgery time has been changed from 10 am to 1 pm. BLARGH. No food or water from midnight on. Tons of fun, but oh well. 

So this is where we stand. I've had a protein shake and a sugar free jell-o so far. I've got 615 calories to go for the day, and 13.5 days to go, so let's get to it. 

Hey, there are worse songs to get stuck in your head...

Lane Bryant Can Bite My Ass

So I spent my lunch break partaking in every fat girl's favorite pastime - searching for jeans that fit.

Oh. My. Jeebus. Just shoot me now.

I currently have two pairs of jeans that I wear on a regular basis - a 26 petite Fashion Bug brand, and a 26 petite St. John's Bay from JCPenney. Both of these jeans are way too big and baggy now. Yay! Sort of.

Enter the frantic gotta-find-jeans-on-my-one-hour-lunch-break-at-the-ridiculously-busy-mall debacle.

Fashion Bug went out of business, so I can't go back there. JCPenney had NOTHING that fit or flattered. At Elder Beerman I found an awesome pair of Ruff Hewn jeans that were the perfect length and a very good fit. Score! And then I looked at the price tag...

$80

For one pair of jeans.

Nope. Can't do it. Don't really want to spend three days alone in the Tennessee mountains with a mad husband.

So then I did the thing I swore I'd never do. I went to Lane Bryant.

You see, years ago when the geniuses at LB lost their ever loving minds created their mind bending new sizing method of mixed colors, shapes, and sizes, I swore that I was done shopping there forever. You are a shop that is supposed to make it EASIER for larger women to find cute clothes that fit and flatter. Now suddenly I needed an advanced degree in heiroglyphical analysis AND five hours of free time to navigate your new and "improved" sizing methods.

Nuh-uh. Not gonna do it.

I created this myself! Woot!

But today, against my better judgement, I went anyway. It's been years since I had tried to buy pants there. Surely they had refined the process some by now, right?

Nope. 

Why are you sideways?! :(

I tried on every single Red Square/Yellow Triangle combination from size 22 to (get this!) size 28. What ended up fitting me best there? (And I use "fitting" and "best" VERY loosely) A Yellow Triangle 28.

I shit you not, my friends. I went from a well-fitting Ruff Hewn 22, to an ill-fitting, tight in all the WRONG places 28 at Lane Bryant. At the fat girl store! Say it with me now:

Double-yoo

Tee

Eff

Needless to say, I left there pantsless. 

Wait. 

I left there with pants. Just not new ones. That would be embarrassing. And I was late getting back to work. Why does this process have to be so hard, my peeps? 

Meh.

Ten Things Thursday

It's time for Laura Belle's Ten Things Thursday:

1) Thank you all for your kind and thoughtful comments about my freak out yesterday. I'm feeling much better and reminding myself that it's okay to be scared, but more important to be brave and give myself the chance to succeed.

2) Today is my 4th wedding anniversary. It feels like it has been two days and two decades all at the same time. Time is flying, and I don't like it. But I do love that husband of mine.

3) Here are 10 wedding day pictures, because I'm feeling nostalgic.

Best. Day. Ever.

The Dress. 

Me and my MOH, The BFF.

The Hubs and his boys.

During the ceremony.

He's mine! 

Our first dance. (Michael Buble: "For Once In My Life")

Getting the garter. The Hubs is an ex-racecar driver. 

Cutting the cake. That cake was AWESOME a year later, too!

The rings.

4) My kiddo is heading to his grandparents' house today and I won't see him until Tuesday of next week. Sadness.

5) The reason he's at his grandparents' house is because The Hubs and I are going on a little getaway to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Happiness.

6) I have literally been waiting for months for the steak I am going to get at The Park Grill on Saturday night.

7) I start my pre-op diet next Wednesday. Eek.

8) Ten things are hard to think of. I was doing well until number eight here.

9) I started my second term at WGU at the beginning of October. I finished 13 credit hours last term and I'm signed up for 14 for this term. Math, Science, History, Classroom Management, Human Development and Learning. Fun times.

10) The BFF started her first term at WGU at the beginning of October. I am super excited for her to be on her way! If all goes as planned, she and I will graduate at the same time, even though we are in different degree programs.

And that is all! Happy Thursday, my friends!

One more thing...

1. Blood work
2. Fitness Consultation
3. Nutrition Consultation
4. Sign Pre-op Paperwork
5. EKG
6. Pay in full (10/24)
7. Start pre-op diet (10/24)
8. Pre-op physical (10/26)
9. Stop taking all medications (11/1)
10. Start Hibiclens (11/4)
11. Pick up post-op meds (11/5)
12. SURGERY DAY (11/7)
13. Post-op Follow-Up (11/14)
14. First Fill (12/7)

Dear EKG Technician Lady, 

I sincerely apologize for the 4 months of unshaven leg hair that you had to navigate to place two of your leads. I was unaware that a heart test required the use of my cactus legs, but in the future, I will be more prepared. 

You deserve a raise. Especially for helping me with hair removal when you ripped off the stickers and took a nice square-inch-sized spot of hair with you. 

Love, 

Me

Nothing to see here...

Not much going on to update you on, but I'm trying to stay on the blogging bandwagon, so that means you get pointless posts like this one.

• The Hubs and I are going with The BFF and her husband to the Ohio Renaissance Festival this weekend. It's always a turkey leg eating, ancient weapon throwing, knightly jousting good time. 

• My kid is adorable. That is all. 

• My job sucks. 

• I'm finishing up my first term at Western Governor's University this month. I still have one stupid math class that I have to complete by the 25th. Have I mentioned that I hate math?

• Nothing much new on the Lap Band front. I'm waiting (im)patiently for my consult on the 27th. Two weeks away, people! 

I hope you're all doing well out there! Hugs to you. 

Too Good To Be True?

Hi all!

I'm going to breeze right over the fact that it has been, oh, a zillion-and-a-half years since I blogged, and jump right in to the reason for my post...

I just discovered that band surgery is tax deductible. According to IRS Publication 502, you can deduct any medical or dental expenses over and above 7.5% of your Adjusted Gross Income. For us, this would mean that we would be able to "claim" about $8000 of the cost of my surgery.

Did any of you bandsters out there take advantage of this? Is it too good to be true? (Please tell me it's not, because I'm super excited about my new discovery...)

And in other news, Bubbster turned one last Friday, which I totally can't believe and am in denial about. He's still my little bubby baby boy, right? (Say that one three times fast.) We had one small family birthday party for him and his GiGi (great grandma on my step-mom's side), and he'll have his big birthday party on the 7th. It's Mickey Mouse Clubhouse themed, y'all. Oh, Toodles!

He also had seven (yes, onetwothreefourfivesixSEVEN) Christmases, and not by choice or by my doing. I would have been happy with one, but darn it for family and friends! The kid received NO duplicate toys, either, which has to be some sort of Black (Christmas) Magic or something. We're going to put some of the toys in a closet and pull them out throughout the year for him.

I've missed you all and have been a bad blogger. Sorry, y'all. Life's been a royal bitch for the past six months or so, so I've been doing pretty well to not climb in a hole or drive my car off a cliff or something. But I'm here. I'm alive. I'm doing.

So anyway, let me know about the tax deduction thingamajig, because that's so flipping awesome if it's true!

Hugs to you and yours, and Happy New Year, too!

Monday morning...

Survival kit.

Hello, lover.

Wherein I go all doom and gloom on your asses...(UPDATE)

I've known that I needed to post a new blog soon, but haven't really had the energy to do it. What I want to blog about is just not pretty or fun, and who wants to waste time writing about things that aren't pretty or fun? More than that, who wants to read about things that aren't pretty or fun?

So here it is.

I am in a dark place right now. I'm having a hard time seeing the light at the end of the tunnel as anything other than an oncoming train. I just haven't had the energy to put any of that elloquently, so when The BFF asked me in an email about what was getting me down and if there was anything she could do to help, this was my reply, and it's now my un-pretty, un-fun, dark places post.

"You can’t do anything. Life is just going through a super sucky period right now, and it sucks. It’s my job, his (lack of a) job, his mom, his mom keeping Bubbers at her house, his mom not coming to our house to help out, us spending too much time at their house, it’s The Hubs and I not having any time or ability to ‘reconnect’, it’s my mom being sick, it’s my dad being sick, it’s my sister being a derelict, it’s my nieces being who knows where, it’s me worrying about Bubbers, it’s me travelling too much, it’s me wanting out of our apartment, it’s me wanting to stay home with Bubbers, it’s me wanting The Hubs to try harder, it’s me worrying about our 3rd anniversary coming up and knowing that there are a million things on my mind rather than thinking about celebrating it, it’s me wishing he were more romantic, more able to show sympathy, a harder worker, smarter, more determined. It’s me feeling absolutely horrible for wishing he were all those things and not focusing on the good things that he is/does. It’s me wishing I had more time to devote to helping you with your wedding and wishing that we didn’t live so far apart, it’s me worrying that your wedding won’t be everything you hoped for but not knowing how to make it so. It’s me wishing certain people would jump off a cliff sometimes, and then feeling horrible about that.

It’s just everything right now. And it’s all bundled up into a nice big fat boulder sitting on my chest with a pretty red bow and a tag saying “To: Anna, Love: The Universe”. And I can’t make it go away."

Sometimes life isn't pretty. This is one of those times.  I'm breathing, and that's all I can really promise you right now, but I know that The Eternal Optimist is still in there somewhere, buried under all the rubble, and that someday she'll find her way out and into the light. And when that happens, I know it won't be the oncoming train.

*UPDATE*

You know, it's funny how much better I feel after just throwing up all of that horribleness into the vastness of the interwebs and into the arms of the loveliest blog readers a girl could ask for. This is what I assume praying feels like to believers - to just give everything up to God. Thank you all for your kind responses and love. You are my light.

Ugh

Judge for yourself, but I say this woman is awesome.

American Apparel's Creative Director, Iris Alonzo is quoted as saying: "If every brand that tried to do this was met with such negative press, we may have to wait another decade for the mainstream to embrace something so simple."

How dare American Apparel use this as a means to justify discrimination.
 
I'm disgusted.