tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230045322024-03-14T04:21:02.990-04:00Is there an antifungal cream for worrywarts?McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.comBlogger164125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-38496302785637049902012-03-22T11:36:00.003-04:002012-03-22T11:38:22.074-04:00New blogHello? Is anyone out there?<br /><br />I'm dusting the cobwebs off of this old gal to mention that my kids (with my assistance) have created a new blog to share with the world their fundraising efforts for our Relay For Life team. You can find it here.<br /><br /><a href="http://walkingforourgran.blogspot.com/">Walking For Our Gran</a><br /><br />Perhaps one day I'll get back to this one, but in the meantime I'd appreciate it if you'd take a look at the new one. Thanks!McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-15428799200459980242011-04-01T09:29:00.005-04:002011-04-01T09:52:10.630-04:00And I Could Walk 500 Miles........if only I weren't so out of shape. <br /><br />I joined a running group. We bought a pricey treadmill with our tax money and I've been using it since the beginning of March to try to take back control of my body and lose the flab, gain some energy, and just improve my health in general. I went to a specialty store for some good sneakers, and it was there that I learned of a training program for beginning runners or people who want to run, eventually (allegedly) getting them in shape to run or walk/run their first 5K. <br /><br />The program is 12 weeks long. I'm in the walk/run group because I can't really run for more than 45 seconds to a minute without feeling like the angel of death is ready to scoop me up and fly me high up to the heavens. Weekly group runs, with tremendous support from mentors and coaches and other (non)runners supporting each other is a fabulous environment to be in. <br /><br />The first week's group goal for the run/walk group was to complete one mile in intervals of running for 1 minute, walking for 2. I was one of the last to bring it on in, run/walking a 17:30 mile. Kind of sad. We have a set training schedule for each day of the week, including one day of rest, and two days of cross-training. The rest of the days include <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">brisk</span> 45 minute walks, walk/run intervals for 1.25 miles, and of course, the group run. I've followed the training schedule diligently, monitored my intake of calories (between 1400 and 1500 a day), and I thought for sure I'd be able to run a bit more without feeling like death was imminent. <br /><br />Last night was the second group run, and my time was the same, 17:30 for one mile at run/walk intervals. Again....sad. Old ladies were passing me by. I was the third to the last to finish. <br /><br />This is much harder than I anticipated. I'm very out of shape. I have lost 4 pounds so far, with a long term goal of losing 57 more by the time I turn 35 in November. I WILL NOT quit this. The 5K is on June 9<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span>, and if I have to crawl across the finish line on my hands and knees, I <em>will</em> finish. I'm in my head too much, and I get nervous when my lungs feel like they're going to explode, and so I tend to pull back a bit. My legs feel as heavy as tree trunks, and my shins feel like they're going to pop out of my skin; this all makes it harder to push myself. I hope as time passes I'll be able to breathe a little easier, step a little lighter, and be able to run/jog more than a minute at a time. <br /><br />I'm doing this for me. I won't quit. I can't quit. It's not an option. <br /><br />Week 1 Group Run<br />1 mile <br />run/walk intervals at run 1, walk 2 - total run time, 3 min <br />total time - 17:30<br /> <br />Week 2 Group Run<br />1 mile <br />run/walk intervals at run 1:30, walk 2 - total run time, 4:30<br />total time - 17:30McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-6275697637648449502011-01-18T14:37:00.004-05:002011-01-18T14:59:13.033-05:00Fibromyalgia: What A Pain!Hello, world. Know what? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fibromyalgia</span> sucks. I was "officially" diagnosed with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">fibromyalgia</span> over the summer, and a trip to a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">rheumatologist</span> confirmed it. Anyone who knows me personally knows of the medical struggles I've had, the tests I have gone through, the medications I have tried, some more than once to make sure I gave them a fair chance. In the absence of other findings through various tests (scans, blood tests), my doctors came to the conclusion that part, if not all, of my issues are caused by <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">fibromyalgia</span>. Prior to this diagnosis, I would scoff at the people on the commercials for drugs used to treat <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">fibro</span>, thinking, along with many, many others, that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">fibro</span> pain was all in the head of the alleged sufferer, that it wasn't a real condition. I'm now eating crow, and perhaps this is karma kicking me in the...well, the hip, shoulders, back, neck, and chest. Those are the places on my body that hurt, some days more than others, some places more often than others.<br /><br />I've had chronic back and hip pain since early 2006, around the time of my first pregnancy. Test after test after test found nothing. No <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">musculoskeletal</span> reason for the pain. Full body bone scan revealed no bone abnormalities. The more I became educated about <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">fibro</span>, the more I felt like I was reading a list of my symptoms. Unexplained <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">chronic</span> pain in various "trigger points" - check. Headaches - check. Dizziness - check. Feeling bodily sensations that other people don't typically feel (feeling the pulse of your heartbeat in every fiber of your being, feeling gastrointestinal processes, electric shock feelings throughout your body, etc., etc.) - check. Extreme fatigue - check. Concurrent thyroid issues and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">vitamin</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">deficiencies</span> - check. I could go on. And on. If this is "all" that winds up being wrong with my body, then I am truly thankful. It could be a lot worse.<br /><br />But waking up (that is, if I've slept) in pain every day is so incredibly draining, both physically and emotionally. There are days when I cringe as my eyes open for the first time that day, just knowing that the slightest movement will set off the hip and back pain that I feel all day, every day. I have a momentary thought, every morning, that I hate the fact that I will need to get out of bed. Not because I'm depressed; I'm <em>sad</em> for myself that I feel like this and that the way I feel, at times, makes me angry/bitter/pitiful, but I'm not depressed, not by any clinician's standards. Besides, the various antidepressants often prescribed for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">fibromyalgia</span> pain had no effect on my mood or my pain.<br /><br />I'm not even close to being as active as I used to be or as I would like to be. I need to change that. The <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wii</span> Fit Plus is slowly getting my body acclimated to moving and stretching. My <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wii</span> trainer, named "Alice <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">Spitbomb</span>" by my kids, helps me through yoga poses that help my body loosen up. Stretch too far or too much, though, and my hip starts to scream. The movement helps a bit, though, and I look forward to being able to do more with myself as I become more stretched and lose a few pounds. For now it's the only thing that helps. I have muscle relaxers for the really bad days. They don't do much for the pain but they relax me enough so that I can fall asleep. I take so much Extra Strength Tylenol that I'm sure my liver will go on strike one of these days. Pain <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">meds</span> don't work. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Chiropractic</span> treatment only made things worse. I've considered going to an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">acupuncturist</span>, but the thought of needles in my body gives me the creeps.<br /><br />If anyone out there with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">fibromyalgia</span> is reading this, have you found any relief for your pain and fatigue? What has worked for you?McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-51427399398130703492011-01-05T16:09:00.002-05:002011-01-05T16:23:35.455-05:00Hungry N BitterSeveral days into the new year, I, like many other people out there, made a promise to myself (I refuse to make resolutions) that *this* would be the year I get serious about getting healthy. An astonishing number on the scale coupled with the fact that I have a huge ass has been enough of an impetus to get moving. Or so I thought.<br /><br />My parents gave us a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wii</span> for Christmas. I'm jazzed. I've wanted one forever, but our budget didn't allow for one. Not being able to afford a gym membership worth its money at the moment, I was glad for an opportunity to use <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wii</span> Fit and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wii</span> Sports. I thought it was cool that I could make a little icon representing myself. I gave my little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mii</span> my features: round face, medium-length hair pulled into braids, a little blush, brown hair and brown eyes, and the crooked smile that my husband still insists is one of my greatest features. It has to be, now, since I didn't have this fat ass when he met me. J-Lo booty, sure, but not this. <br /><br />Anyway. I digress.<br /><br />So, my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mii</span> looks like me. On a good day. I put in my height, and then the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wii</span> Fit scale (I loathe him) told me to step on the balance board. I guess my first clue <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">should've</span> been the fact that I heard a voice on the screen say, "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">OOO</span>!!" as I stepped on. Nice. As the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wii</span> calculated my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">BMI</span> and weight, I stood, anticipating the number, knowing roughly what it would be. What I didn't expect, however, was my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mii</span> to blow up like a balloon once the number registered. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mii</span> looks like she could be a contestant on The Biggest Loser. I mean, when my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mii</span> sits around the house, she sits <em>around</em> the house. When she sits on a rainbow, Skittles pop out. When she....<br /><br />You get the idea. So, yeah...sure. I'd like to fit into smaller jeans. I'd like to not have to refer to myself as "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lardass</span>." I'd like to be able to run around and play with my kids without needing the assistance of an oxygen tank. <br /><br />Okay, that's a slight exaggeration. I don't need an oxygen tank.<br /><br />Mostly, though, I'd like my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mii</span> to lose her little muffin top and be a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">smokin</span>' babe. So we're in this together. Me and my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mii</span>. 50 pounds or bust.<br /><br />The eating healthy crap, though, is already getting old. All I want is a piece of cake. <br /><br />And to get Katy Perry's "Hot N Cold" out of my head. When I listen to songs, I don't typically pay attention to the lyrics. I realize it's a stupid song. And her voice kind of sucks. I'm more into melody, and this little ditty is quite catchy. It's a great song for when I run (ha ha) on the treadmill (that I don't have).McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-3558201891401511282011-01-01T20:01:00.003-05:002011-01-01T20:23:15.602-05:00Happy New Year!I'm back.<br /><br />This blog was started in early 2006, right after I learned I was pregnant with my first child. It was maintained throughout his first year, and then I found out I was pregnant with Baby #2. Blogging slowly died down after that, and came to a halt in mid-2009. I forgot about this blog until yesterday, and I was happy to discover that it was still floating around out there in cyberspace. Looking back at the pictures of my babies brought tears to my eyes. My babies aren't babies anymore.<br /><br />Nat is 4 now. Savannah is 2 1/2. I still see small snippets of their babyhood in their behavior, but those snippets are fewer and farther between. It makes me sad. I long for them to be babies again. I feel like I missed out on enjoying Nat's babyhood beyond age 1 because I was miserably pregnant. I feel like I missed out on Savannah's entire babyhood because that coincided with the beginning of my (still partially unresolved) health issues.<br /><br />Happy 2011! <br /><br />My hope for this year is to make a return to this blog that was started several years ago as a way to document my baby's firsts. Now, though, my focus will be on the daily musings of a mom with two preschoolers, and the fun and the trials associated with homeschooling. We have made the decision to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">homeschool</span> our children, and Nat started preschool learning at home in September. <br /><br />Not much has changed since last I wrote. We may or may not have begun to find causes of my health issues. My hope is that more will be resolved in the coming weeks. It would be nice to spend my time enjoying my children instead of sitting back and observing their play because I don't feel well enough to be up and active with them. <br /><br />I still have a desperate need to be liked by everyone I know. I try hard. I think I try <em>too</em> hard, and then inevitably wind up putting people off. Friendships that I have maintained are all with people that I haven't seen in years. I'm not good at making friends in person. I'm awkward. This need to be liked is complicated by the fact that there are days that I feel like my own children don't like me. The arrival of the 4<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span> birthday brought with it mood swings that I thought were only experienced by teenage girls. I hope beyond hope that his moods are normal because, as the title of the blog indicates, I worry that it may be a sign of something wrong. Is he happy? Is he sad? Lonely? Bored? Serial killer in training? Savannah, God bless her, can give Roseanne Arnold a run for her money with the pitch of her screeching when she doesn't get her way. It's not <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">advisable</span> to piss Savannah off. What does Kathy Griffin say? <em>She'll cut a bitch.</em> I'm going to have my hands full when Savannah hits her preteen years. The competition for alpha female is already in full swing, and I have to admit that there are days when she wins. It's just easier that way. <br /><br />I suppose I could come clean for the new year and say that I've gotten awfully fat in the last few years. I'll blame part of it on my thyroid, part of it on the fibromyalgia I was diagnosed with during the summer, and part of it on the fact that I like to eat. A lot. I turn 35 this year. That scares me. That's....<em>old</em>. While I don't quite have the nerve to spill the beans about actual numbers yet, I do have a goal set for myself to lose between 50 and 60 pounds by my birthday in November. I have to do it. I weigh more than I did during either of my pregnancies and that kills me. <br /><br />2010 was a hell of a year. My family saw a lot of ups, a few downs, and many in-betweens. I hope to do everything in my power to make 2011 one for the record books.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-75520709462553433802009-07-17T13:48:00.004-04:002009-07-17T14:19:17.879-04:00Just for you, EliseI was reprimanded for not blogging in months. I didn't realize it had been so long. I had stopped because all of my focus was on my health and I felt like I was being way too much of a downer. Not much has changed in the area of my health, but boy, have these last few months brought with them some crazy changes.<br /><br />Nat is now 2 1/2 years old. I'm in complete denial that he will turn 3 this Halloween. He has the wit and wisdom of someone much older, and is still very much the joy of my heart. His intelligence is a bit intimidating. Not intimidating as in he's smarter than me, but moreso in a way that there is going to be no holding him back. He is incredibly sensitive, and still very unsure of others his age; his interactions with adults, however, are far beyond any expectation I would've had. He holds polite conversations, has impeccable manners, and is very helpful. He has an amazing heart. His sense of wonder and awe is inspiring. He thanks God for things that make him happy. He loves to sing and dance, and has a definite artsy side to him. His future is limitless. His imagination reaches places that I cannot see, and one of my hopes for him is that he always stays a dreamer, always continues to follow the beat of his own drum, and simply stays true to who he believes he is. I love him with my whole heart.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2O525bB5z5Dlo8vUOW_g1EjT3wNsA82GnRnkDQwJMA-hkRepjd3YuaRAmffVzzYbYtJYsG0QUXQLshW2KIU2SLrRqTKfHxcYc_nAzp5Y_w65JNytfQmrfYXaSHQhQcjZqYTNDg/s1600-h/Nathanael+179.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2O525bB5z5Dlo8vUOW_g1EjT3wNsA82GnRnkDQwJMA-hkRepjd3YuaRAmffVzzYbYtJYsG0QUXQLshW2KIU2SLrRqTKfHxcYc_nAzp5Y_w65JNytfQmrfYXaSHQhQcjZqYTNDg/s320/Nathanael+179.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359489526447252578" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Little Miss Savannah has turned into quite a diva. She is 14 months old going on 15. She loves shoes. She has been walking for about a month now and has a handful of words (mama, dada, na-na for Natty, knows that a cow says "moo" and a dog says "woof woof," and makes this nasal-like noise that can't be phonetically spelled when she wants to say "shoe." She's incredibly social, smiling and waving at anyone who will look her way. She flirts and accepts compliments on her beautiful blue eyes from strangers as though she truly understands what they're saying. She's very bright and very mischievous. She knows when she's getting herself into trouble, but simply bats her long eyelashes at you, flashes her nearly toothless smile, and expects to be exempt from a reprimand. As much as a daddy's girl as she is, she seems to know when I need a little extra love, as lately she has begun to climb into my lap, put her hand over my heart, and stare into my eyes as if to say, "It's okay, Mama. Everything's going to be okay." I hope - I hope with my whole heart - that I am able to have a healthy mother-daughter relationship with her. With both of them.<br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW2zhrn2v_hzD03-YN8195lo6ubkFvSyFzAkbcyvFEpl_-JJyZ0t5sEhYEyy7jnkDpSO7eCrK1uZyDKvslr6PCuW_wB6pCBzrS7tAh4okAqTMU74cBvHYMiwiD17UW2kyray8EPw/s1600-h/Nathanael+023.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW2zhrn2v_hzD03-YN8195lo6ubkFvSyFzAkbcyvFEpl_-JJyZ0t5sEhYEyy7jnkDpSO7eCrK1uZyDKvslr6PCuW_wB6pCBzrS7tAh4okAqTMU74cBvHYMiwiD17UW2kyray8EPw/s320/Nathanael+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359491905985801874" border="0" /></a><br /><br />They play together, for the most part, wonderfully. The love they have for each other is very apparent. She wants to be everywhere he is, and while Nat does like his own space from time to time, he is happy to have her around. May they always be close.<br /><br />The Hubs and I are trying our hardest to establish in our children a strong sense of faith, of God and His role in our lives. We want our children to grow to be happy and healthy, but also to be good, loyal, honest, faithful people. We struggle with knowing if we're doing it the right way, but I guess all we can do is pray and hope for the best. <br /><br />Hubs and I are doing well. Our 7th anniversary is coming up. I married a great man and I don't tell him that often enough. He's a great father and I hope Nat learns how to be a man from his dad. I hope Savannah grows to learn that she deserves a good man like her dad. There are so few out there, and my children have a wonderful example to learn from. <br /><br />My health issues still remain a mystery. I started my ninth and tenth medications last week. I'm hopeful that they will have some kind of effect. I had a repeat brain MRI just a few days ago and will have a repeat MRI of the cervical spine in August. Still having daily headaches and vertigo, however vision changes have begun to occur, my memory isn't what it used to be, and I've begun to have total left-side electric shock sensations. I still have the Hashimoto's Disease, and my endocrinologist is having a hell of a time getting my levels stabilized, and I was just recently (again) diagnosed with a severe Vitamin D deficiency. I'm also borderline anemic. What does all of this mean? Who knows. I'm trying so hard to be positive, so hard to put my faith in God, that He'll keep me here to see my babies have babies, but on some days it's hard. <br /><br />So that's it, in a very small nutshell. I'll try to keep this updated more often for those of you who still check this.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-86379654838178955222009-02-26T13:35:00.002-05:002009-02-26T14:00:13.972-05:00<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span>I've never gone 4 weeks without updating. I've gotten a few e-mails and Facebook messages from some of my loyal readers wondering, "Hi, are you still, like, <span style="font-style: italic;">alive</span>?" Indeed I am. Just nothing good to write about, and I figured my endless battle with all things medical was getting a little too heavy for blogging, so I gave it a break. How sad that, in these 4 weeks, nothing exciting has happened, nor can I come up with anything fun/funny/witty to write about? Ick.<br /><br />Updates, then, in bullet fashion:<br /><br /><ul><li>Savannah turned 9 months old on February 15th. Where the hell did those 9 months go? Ohhh, <span style="font-style: italic;">I</span> know....I was so consumed with feeling like poo and trying to figure out what the hell is going on with my body that I've essentially missed my baby girl's first year. Fabulous mothering on my part. In any case, she crawls faster than I can walk. She pulls herself up on things, cruises, and is probably seconds away from walking. Lord help me. She laughs when I use a firm voice and/or her full name in an attempt to stop her from eating random things off of the floor or from attempting to climb the stairs. She claps, says "dada" and "yaaaaay," waves, and makes these awful noises that would make one assume she is part pterodactyl or part short-wave radio. She has never wanted anything to do with baby food, commercial or homemade, and can now out-eat her brother at any meal. No teeth yet. Typical girl attitude is already present, and I can hardly wait for the teen years. She adores Nat and follows him around wherever he goes. </li></ul><ul><li>Nathanael is days away from turning 28 months but already has the personality of a sixteen year old boy. I hate the terrible twos, and from what I've been told it only gets worse. He has completely abandoned the idea of napping, so coupled with his attitude you can imagine that we have some ugly days. He loves to draw, and is actually quite a good artist for a two year old. He's smart and a bit of a smartass, proudly identifies letters of the alphabet whenever we see them out and about. Adults who don't know him compliment me on his vocabulary and manners and knowledge...even if he does pronounce peanuts as "penus."</li></ul><ul><li>Me, I'm hanging in there. Medically, we're still trying to figure things out. A recent MRI of the spine and cervical spine showed that I have bulging discs in my neck and back, as well as a condition called spondylosis, which is essentially osteoarthritis of the spine. What's causing it is yet to be determined, but cervical spondylosis can cause headaches and vertigo, and so I'm in physical therapy two days each week to try to alleviate symptoms. For the first two weeks I felt like a million bucks, but some of the symptoms are starting to return and I've had an increase in neck and back pain, so if those two instances are related I don't know. My physical therapist is wonderful, though, and I'm hopeful that with her course of treatment I'll get to feeling better soon. Some muscle relaxers and a vacation wouldn't hurt the situation either.</li></ul><ul><li>Hubs turns 38 today. That seems so old to me even though I'm 32. We're approaching the 11 year anniversary of when we first met. He had just turned 28 and I was 22. Only 11 years ago? Seems like it has been at least 25. </li></ul><ul><li>I live about 15 minutes away from where Continental Flight 3407 crashed. Scary and tragically sad, and my prayers went out to the victims and families, but it's all people could talk about here. Everyone seemed to have a story of how they knew someone who knew someone who should've been on the plane. Like 9/11 all over again. Like everyone felt the need to have a piece of the tragedy. I don't get that.</li></ul>And that, dear readers, is the last few weeks in a nutshell. I appreciate all the messages concerning my presence on the planet. I was just trying to spare you all from yet another boring and piteous blog entry.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-25837556428817739262009-01-27T13:26:00.004-05:002009-01-27T13:55:57.231-05:00EnoughI had my appointment with the third neurologist this morning. My primary care doctor suggested that I see this neurologist in light of the continued headache and vertigo as well as the progression of some other symptoms. While I didn't walk out of his office today with any kind of concrete answers as to what, exactly, is happening with my body, we did formulate a plan and will see what happens from there. Yahoo.<br /><br />Starting today and for the next 4 days, I will be receiving an intravenous infusion of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">methylprednisolone</span> and magnesium to reduce and kind of inflammation <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">that</span> may be causing the headaches. If this 4-day infusion works, then he will be forced to look in a certain direction for a cause of these headaches. I will have to go to an infusion clinic for 2 hours a day while this medication drips into my veins. Because my husband works and I won't leave the kids with anyone but family, I have to go at night, missing dinner and bedtimes for both kids. This better work.<br /><br />I also have a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">prescription</span> for Valium, 2 mg, to be taken 3x/day. Valium is apparently the drug of choice when treating vertigo. I'm a little leery of taking it, but he asked that I give it a try for 2 weeks. We'll see.<br /><br />Doctor wanted to repeat a spinal tap. Remember how I had a spinal tap done in July of 2008? How it was supposed to be done to rule out MS way back when? Yeah. A MS workup was not performed on the fluid. I'm a little upset over that, because the experience was awful (took the jerk 4 full pokes to find the right spot), and because it was supposed to be performed to rule out MS. The kicker is that the doctor at the time TOLD ME that the tap ruled out MS. This is why I have little faith in the medical system. I wonder if I could sue him for fraud? In any case, I told him that I'd prefer to avoid a repeat tap based solely on my experience from last time, and he agreed to send me for non-invasive tests that may also indicate MS - a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">VER</span> and a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">BAER</span>. One tests the eyes and will indicate visual deficits, which I have begun to notice, and the other tests signals between the cochlea and the brain. If these two tests come back with negative results, I will likely follow the doctor's suggestion of having the tap repeated.<br /><br />Finally, I have a test tomorrow called a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">TCD</span>. It's essentially a sonogram of the brain, and will show live-action blood flow. It will be performed with a bubble study to determine the possibility of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">emboli</span> from the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">PFO</span>. I thought that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">MRA</span>/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">MRV</span> would've ruled this out, but I guess not?<br /><br />I'm praying that these tests and medications will provide relief and assist in eliciting some answers. I really am so tired of all of this. Savannah will turn 1 in May, and it makes me sad to think that the majority of the first year of her life was spent like this.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-49246176244035157622009-01-09T13:41:00.003-05:002009-01-09T13:48:34.566-05:00UpdateI received preliminary results back from the brain scans I had the other night. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">MRA</span> (magnetic resonance <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">angiogram</span>, looking at blood vessels) and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">MRV</span> (magnetic resonance <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">venography</span>, looking specifically at the venous system) both came back negative, which means that no small clusters of clots and no aneurysms were observed. There was apparently one area of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">MRV</span> that wasn't of good quality so I have to go back in tonight to have that part repeated, but I'm guessing nothing will show up. So this is good news.<br /><br />Back to the drawing board. I see the third neurologist in about two weeks. He's also a headache <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">specialist</span>, so if he can't come up with anything then we'll proceed to the Cleveland Clinic to take the immunology route. I refuse to believe that there isn't a reason for feeling this way, and I"m not about to resolve to spend the rest of my life feeling this way. No thanks.<br /><br />Thanks for putting up with my posts about medical issues and the worries that accompany the issues. Your comments, prayers, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Internet</span> presence actually do mean a great deal to me.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-66799061554489848922009-01-06T14:31:00.002-05:002009-01-06T14:34:53.696-05:00Yesterday I learned that I have a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">PFO</span>, or a small hole in my heart. In the 4 or 5 prior <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">echocardiograms</span> that I have had, this has never once shown up.<br /><br />But now tonight I am scheduled for a brain <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">MRA</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">MRV</span> to determine whether or not I have had any <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">TIAs</span>, or, essentially, mini-strokes.<br /><br />I have a blood clotting disorder. I have a history of blood clots to the lung. I also have several brain <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">MRIs</span> that have shown white spots. White spots = strokes? <br /><br />I'm scared. I can't stop having visions of leaving my babies long before I'm ready.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-55610460092430079282008-12-31T14:21:00.002-05:002008-12-31T14:35:32.916-05:00Bye-bye, 2008I can't believe how quickly this year has passed. I spent the first half of it pregnant, and the rest of it feeling like crap. I'm hopeful that 2009 will bring nothing but good things to our family. We're starting to head in the right direction financially, which is a huge weight off. Progress, albeit slow, is starting to be made in terms of my mysterious health issue. I've been referred to a third - THIRD - neurologist after a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">VNG</span> revealed that my chronic vertigo is most likely the result of a CNS issue. Fab-u-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">lous</span> news, no? Good news is that things like tumors and aneurysms have been ruled out several times over. I think my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">PCP's</span> still thinking that I may have MS. This new neurologist is (allegedly) an expert, and *the* doctor to go to for MS symptoms and treatment. So we'll see. Not that I want a diagnosis of that or anything in that spectrum, but an answer, if it ever comes, will be so nice. My PCP is also arranging for me to be seen at The Cleveland Clinic should this new neurologist not have any new insights. That also leaves me hopeful that an answer will be found.<br /><br />2009 will be the first year out of the last few years that I won't be pregnant during some part of the year. Bittersweet realization.<br /><br />2009 will bring our 7<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">th</span> wedding anniversary. Hubs turns 38. I'll turn 33. My babies will turn 3 and 1. It will also bring my 10-year college reunion. Yikes.<br /><br />2009 will hopefully bring nothing but great change for this country. I look forward to 1/20 with both excitement and trepidation. <br /><br />2009 better bring with it some pretty serious weight loss. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Hashimoto's</span> be damned - I vow to lose 50 pounds by the end of this year. That's baby weight from both babies and will bring me back down to my "ideal" weight. I have no idea how I'm going to do it. Finances and lack of any real time prevent me from joining a gym. Well...back up there. We could most likely do it financially. But I feel guilty taking out time for myself to go exercise. Weird, isn't it? It's not enough that I stay home all day with them, but I feel like I'm doing them a disservice by not being around all. the. time. They're going to grow up to resent me for that, aren't they?<br /><br />2009 holds the promise of everlasting memories. I wish nothing but health and love and happiness for my little family of 4, and to all of you.<br /><br />May you all have a very, very happy new year!McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-75417136828164903242008-12-11T14:04:00.002-05:002008-12-11T14:15:05.639-05:00WWACDWhat would Annie Camden do?<br /><br />Nat has become an incredibly picky eater. He rarely eats what I put in front of him. I'm not a horrible cook. Quite the opposite, actually. He just has set in his mind what he wants to eat, and it's usually not anything near what I've made for lunch or dinner. In his mind, the four basic food groups include bread/pretzels/rice, chocolate, cheese, and noodles. A kid after my own heart. Or stomach. But I can't go feeding him these foods over and over again.<br /><br />Can I? <br /><br />Not the chocolate, of course. Chocolate (and any other sweet) is a treat in this house. Not readily available, and not distributed even on a semi-regular basis. But the other stuff? Breads and cheese and noodles? He could eat those every day for every meal. <br /><br />Perhaps I've been making a mistake in trying to get him to eat what the adults eat. My dinners consist of a protein, a veggie, and a starch. Nat has transformed from a child who would eat anything healthy to a child who takes one bite of everything on his plate and announces that he's done and would like to get down. Put a hot dog or buttered noodles in front of him, though, and he'll clean his plate and ask for more. <br /><br />So what do you do with a picky toddler? I'm posing this question to the thousands of readers I have (ha), some of whom I know are veteran moms. Do I make two dinners, one for the adults consisting of "real" food and one of which I know he'll eat, or do I continue serving him the balanced choices? My dinner table rule is that he has to try everything once, and if he doesn't like it then he doesn't have to eat it - in that case I'll make him a PB & J or grilled cheese. But he often flat out refuses. So I'm at a loss. Hubs says that he'll eat when he's hungry and to not push him, but I'm the mom - it's my job to push and to make sure I give every effort to take care of him. He's such a little peanut and he needs to eat. <br /><br />I wonder what Annie Camden would do?McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-28208466212588683672008-12-09T14:29:00.002-05:002008-12-09T14:52:21.723-05:00Through the eyes of children<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJ0bMdPkKI8I2tvPEcuvKnJXtgiv3oC3WHNaoivFnOfvd3lxbzTjPP28NY8sgcpNNlfIj6zrEPSq7XmCm2SRBbWB7Kqs7Q_xFySxmcqLQU45GYcYfJNrwhNjkXpHzAO1EKltZBg/s1600-h/gumdrop+064.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277875019301902418" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJ0bMdPkKI8I2tvPEcuvKnJXtgiv3oC3WHNaoivFnOfvd3lxbzTjPP28NY8sgcpNNlfIj6zrEPSq7XmCm2SRBbWB7Kqs7Q_xFySxmcqLQU45GYcYfJNrwhNjkXpHzAO1EKltZBg/s320/gumdrop+064.jpg" border="0" /></a> This will be Nat's third Christmas, but the first year he really has much of an understanding of anything related to the holiday. He gets Santa, though, and understands that Christmas is also Baby Jesus' birthday...as much as a two year old can, I guess.<br />We took the kids to see Santa at a small country store in the area that has the best Santa I've ever seen. Santa comes down the chimney every night. Savannah, obviously, doesn't understand anything beyond the sparkly lights, but it was fun to see her enjoying the twinkling lights on the trees. Watching Nat's eyes light up as he spied Santa's boots dropping from the chimney was enough to melt my heart. His anticipation was very apparent as we waited in line. He was so excited to tell Santa that he has been a good boy and that he'd like some more Cars things for Christmas. He's been spoiled in that he's my taste-tester for every holiday cookie I'm baking, and he'll also get the occasional treat of staying up "late" to watch a Christmas special in his jammies, snuggled up with mama while eating some popcorn we've popped on the stove top. I wonder if any of these things will serve to become one of his first memories. I hope so. I can't recall many annual Christmas traditions from when I was little, so I hope to create many for these kiddos that will help make each holiday extra special. I know, though, that I'll remember enough for the both of them.<br /><br />I made the decision to move Nat into Savannah's bedroom, which happens to be his old bedroom. He's been having an awful time sleeping lately, and I wondered if he missed his old room, or if he just wanted company. I was a little nervous about the two of them sharing a room, thinking that one would disrupt the other, but so far it seems to be a success. He loves to look across the room and see his baby sister. <br /><br />In medical news, my PCP has reached out to medical staff in Rochester to see if anything of my case rings any bells with them. Apparently some doctors at the large teaching hospital in Rochester are quite interested, so I'm wondering if I'll have to travel a bit in my continued effort to find out what's going on. Travel + WNY winters = fun. <br /><br />I'm at an impasse with Christmas shopping. I would love to buy and buy and buy, giving the kids everything they want, but we also want to instill in them the notion that they don't need to be knee-deep in material possessions to be happy. After all, it's not the amount of things that we have that makes us truly happy. So I'm wondering how much is too much. I know some families who give one gift per age in years - so Nat would get 2 following that rule, and Savannah would get - what, half of a gift? I know some families who have their kids make a list, ranking the top 5 items on the list, and more families who save and save and save during the year and then go crazy at Christmas time. Hubs and I don't exchange gifts, so that leaves some extra wiggle room to spoil the kids, but I don't want to raise spoiled kids. It'll be fun to see what ends up happening. <br /><br />Lastly, I have the Facebook virus, and nothing we do seems to get rid of it. We've tried a gajillion different antivirus programs, including that one we pay $80 a year for, and nothing works. Anyone have any insight?McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-16451310295141746842008-12-04T13:22:00.002-05:002008-12-04T13:51:29.039-05:00Pure, unadulterated HELLThat's what our house has been for the last 48 hours.<br /><br />I decided on Tuesday, after a trip to the pediatric dentist, that the time had arrived to bid adieu to Nat's beloved pacifier, affectionately known around here as "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">suckah</span>." The dentist revealed that his jaw was becoming slightly misaligned, rated it a 7 out of 10, and told me that if I took it away that day that his jaw would return to normal. If I didn't? His adult teeth would have white spots, his jaw would be unable to return to its original position, and...the worst part? He would <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">shpeak</span> like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">thish</span>. Okay. '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">nuff</span> said. Her advice as to how to deal with it was simply suggesting that the sucker was lost, making a huge deal out of finding it, and telling him that it was gone but reinforce that it's okay to go to sleep without it. Sounded easy enough to me, and he only used it at night anyway, so I didn't figure it would be all that bad.<br /><br />Oh, how wrong was I. Nat's bedtime is 8 p.m. He didn't fall asleep that night until right before midnight, and then was up again at 2:10, 3:12, 4:30, 5:17, 6:15, and up for the day at 7. He was in an ugly mood all day yesterday, and we figured that he'd pass out at bedtime last night. Not so. Last night? He was up ALL. NIGHT. LONG. <br /><br />He's upstairs now attempting to nap, wailing for his sucker. I know if I cave in and give it to him he'll immediately fall asleep. It's killing me to hear him like that. I feel like an awful mother, because I took away his biggest source of comfort outside of myself, but it's time, right? The boy has been speaking in complete sentences for many months now. He can recite his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ABCs</span> and count to 10, draw a perfect circle - surely he doesn't need his sucker anymore. Right? He'll get over it. He won't hold a grudge against me. He'll still be my baby.<br /><br />Thankfully Savannah loathes her sucker unless she happens to have a rough night, so it's easy to keep hers out of sight. I feel like I've been run over by a cement truck, though, and can't take another sleepless night. I'm hopeful that tonight will be a little easier, and by the weekend, all will be forgotten. If any of my hundreds (ha ha) of readers have any insight as to how to make this any easier, I would appreciate your feedback. He has his other beloved object, his blanket (Binky), and I thought that Binky would just take over, but I was wrong. I'm at a loss. <br /><br />I've also realized that my studies and degrees in psychology and all of the knowledge I've acquired is 100% lost on my own child. He knows when I'm trying to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">psychologize</span> him, and he'll give it right back to me in his own psycho-toddler way. Smart guy.<br /><br />Savannah is babbling, and she has a sweet, adorable voice. She says <em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">dada</span></em>, but we're not sure if it's intentional or not. She'll say it while looking at Hubs, so it's entirely possible. She also says <em>gee-tee</em> while looking at the cat. Cute. <br /><br />We had a swell Thanksgiving. Spent it with my parents and younger sister. In a moment of insanity, I decided to go shopping on Black Friday. Both kids were up for most of the night, having been thrown off their schedules by the turkey day travel, so at 4:12 a.m. on Friday I decided to head out to see if it truly was a crazy day. After spending 2 1/2 hours on line at a certain store I've decided that I'll never do BF again. Ever. I had the fortune of witnessing a man punch a woman in the face over a vacuum cleaner. White trash at its finest. <br /><br />I'm continuing to baffle doctors with the medical stuff. My PCP will now be contacting specialists in every area of medicine to see if something about my case rings a bell with them. He's thinking some kind of chronic autoimmune issue or the possibility of having contracted a virus during my c-section or while in the hospital. So now I have to sit back and wait. It's not fun, but at least I feel now like he's actually doing something more than just throwing random drugs my way. He gets it. Last week he prescribed the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Medrol</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Dosepak</span> to see if it would create a break in the symptoms. I felt 100% better on days 2 and 3 of the prescription, but immediately returned to how I was feeling once I stopped taking more than 1 pill at a time. To me this would indicate that these symptoms are being caused by some kind of inflammation, but I'm not the MD, and I've learned through all of this that most doctors don't appreciate having their knowledge questioned. All I want for Christmas is an answer. <br /><br />As we're getting more into the holiday season, I can't help but be grateful for what I do have, though. I love seeing Nat getting excited over the prospect of Santa. I love that he gets it this year, and I'm proud that he also knows that Christmas is a day to celebrate the birth of Baby Jesus. For as much as I lament over what I don't have, I'm so incredibly grateful for my little family here. And really, that's all that matters.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-54207924870676075862008-11-26T14:52:00.001-05:002008-11-26T14:53:13.162-05:00Happy Thanksgiving to all......and to all a good turkey.<br /><br />Wishing all of my readers a very happy Thanksgiving. Make you all have plenty to be thankful for. I know I do.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-67167013272905301542008-11-18T20:23:00.003-05:002008-11-20T14:18:05.860-05:00TaggedI was tagged by my friend <a href="http://hudsonsmom.blogspot.com/">Elisabeth</a>. These are fun.<br /><br /><br /><br />8 things I’m passionate about:<br />1. Being a good wife<br />2. Being a good mother<br />3. Making sure my family is happy and healthy<br />4. Napping children<br />5. Getting enough sleep<br />6. My faith<br />7. Holiday traditions<br />8. Cooking<br /><br /><br /><br />8 things that happened yesterday:<br />1. Disconnected the Holter monitor and turned it in.<br />2. Went to a cake decorating class.<br />3. Went to Target.<br />4. Made fabulous towers with Mega Blocks.<br />5. Read some of my new book.<br />6. Reconnected with a few old friends on Facebook.<br />7. Made a fabulous dinner.<br />8. Watched Private Practice.<br /><br /><br />8 things I do now:<br />1. Stay at home Mom<br />2. Battle with my children to get to sleep<br />3. Worry about way too many things<br />4. Spend way too much time on Facebook when the children are asleep.<br />5. Manage the $$<br />6. Wish I had more $$ to manage.<br />7. Do a happy dance when both children are asleep<br />8. Relax when given the opportunity in the afternoons<br /><br />8 things I can not do:<br />1. Talk to doctors on the phone. I have some kind of phobia, so I make Hubs do it.<br />2. Clean the bathroom. It makes me gag.<br />3. Get through a day without worrying.<br />4. Get through a day without checking my e-mail and/or Facebook.<br />5. Eat pork.<br />6. Drink Bolthouse Farms Green Goodness. Never, ever again.<br />7. Win at Scrabble, despite my extensive vocabulary.<br />8. Let a baby truly cry it out. I've tried and failed.<br /><br />8 things I often say:<br />1. Go to sleep, Savannah.<br />2. Don't touch that, Nat.<br />3. I SAID don't TOUCH that!<br />4. Hubs, could you (fill in the blank).<br />5. I love you Hubs/Nat/Savannah.<br />6. Dude<br />7. What?/Excuse me?<br />8. I'm hungry.<br /><br />8 favorite TV shows:<br />1. Lost<br />2. Grey's Anatomy<br />3. How I Met Your Mother<br />4. Big Bang Theory<br /><br /><br /><br />8 favorite foods:<br />1. My mom's cinnamon buns<br />2. Lobster<br />3. A good salad<br />4. A good bacon cheeseburger with BBQ sauce<br />5. French onion soup<br />6. Any sandwich from Carluccio's in Brooklyn<br />7. Pizza from Lombardi's in NYC<br />8. My grandmother's pizza/white bread. :(<br /><br /><br />8 things you may not have known about me:<br />1. I used to be quite funny. One of my greatest accomplishments, other than birthing 2 beautiful children, was performing on the stage at UCBT in NYC on the same stage as Amy Poehler, Tina Fey, and other fabulously funny people.<br />2. I've never felt more free and more alive as I did when I lived in NYC. I miss it.<br />3. I have an inferiority complex.<br />4. I'm not adept at making and maintaining friendships. I wish I could be.<br />5. I once marched with Nancy Regan in a Just Say No parade.<br />6. I sang with Mitch Miller when I was in the fifth grade, and believe there's a record album out there with my voice on it.<br />7. I was cast in 2 films when I lived in NYC. One was a bust and probably never made it beyond the cutting room. The other was a huge hit, but I wasn't in it.<br />8. I will never forgive myself for not being able to adequately breastfeed my children.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-65191330608164910632008-11-18T14:43:00.003-05:002008-11-18T15:33:50.159-05:00I quitI'm depressed. I feel lousy. Every. Single. Day. I was hopeful that a diagnosis of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Hashimoto's</span> and an increase in my medication would cure everything, make me feel 100%. Not so. I started at 125 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">mcg</span> of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">levothyroxine</span> and wound up with chest pain and palpitations and had the dosage dropped to 100 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">mcg</span>. I feel worse on 100 than I did on 125. I am still having daily headaches. I've had a headache all day every day for the last 6 months. Add to the mix vertigo, nausea, and the occasional palpitation and shortness of breath, and there you have it - my day. I have so many -<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ologists</span> under my belt that I'm sure I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">must've</span> beaten a record somewhere. I'm currently wearing a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Holter</span> monitor to see if there is any indication of atrial fibrillation, which is apparently common in patients with thyroid disease. I also have a congenital heart defect which makes me prone to headaches, but one would think that I'd have had these symptoms long before having Savannah.<br /><br />I'm scared. I'm sad. I feel like I'm being let down. I would love to just wake up one morning and feel good and not be scared and actually have the energy to sit and play with my kids the way any good mom would do. I'm so scared. A good Christian would give up her fear to God and be assured that He was taking care of her and would ensure that she will, in fact, be around for a long long time to see her babies have babies. But I can't do that. I don't know how.<br /><br />I can't get through a day without crying. Without imagining a horrible scenario that includes my kids but doesn't include me.<br /><br />My thyroid ultrasound came back negative. That's a good thing and I'm thankful for that. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Hashimoto's</span> is really wreaking havoc on my body, though. My hair is so brittle that it's breaking. And falling out. I once had thick, long, luxurious locks. Not so much anymore. My skin is so dry that it hurts to clench my fists. I'm fat. Post-baby fat, and I'm not gaining weight, but the fat isn't going anywhere. From what I've read, it's terribly difficult to lose weight when you have <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Hashimoto's</span>, despite exhaustive efforts. Fabulous. I feel ugly. I'm forgetful. I usually stop mid-sentence to try to remember what point I was trying to make. I can't remember simple words. Once upon a time I was intelligent. Today? I'm lucky if I can get through a sentence without transposing words. I feel stupid. I'm having horrible mood swings. Worse than those that come with pregnancy. I feel like a bitch, and a horrible human being. I'm pretty sure it's making Nathanael hate me, because he loves to say "No love Mama" and tells me "no kiss" when I try to kiss him. Never did I think he'd break my heart, and never did I think my heart was capable of hurting the way it does when he says those things.<br /><br />I don't know what direction to turn to next. The PCP says it's out of his hands. The neurologist says that there is, indeed, suspicious material on my brain, but it's not a tumor, it could be MS, but he just doesn't think so. The endocrinologist confirms that I do, in fact, have <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Hashimoto's</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Thyroiditis</span>, but tells me that it's incredibly unlikely that it's the reason behind the headaches (despite the fact that I've read on many message boards that people with HT suffer from chronic daily headaches) and says that he's not comfortable blaming the cardiac events on the thyroid. The cardiologist straps a monitor on me, hands me some samples, and ignores my question about a relationship between thyroid disease and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">mitral</span> valve prolapse syndrome, a condition I happen to have every single symptom of.<br /><br />I feel lost. I feel disappointed. I know this is not in my head - blood tests and radiological tests are confirming that for me. Why can't we figure this out? Why does every single day have to be spent feeling awful? I can't remember the last time I felt truly happy and was truly able to just sit and enjoy the day, my family, <em>life in general. </em>I pray every day for answers. For a sign that I'll be okay. For some kind of reassurance that I'm not going to leave my children without a mother. But I don't feel like I'm getting anything in return. This is why I left my faith on the back burner many years ago.<br /><br />I just want to be okay. I want to know that I'm going to be okay. I want to stop being scared and sad and feeling sorry for myself and be the mom that I know my babies need and deserve. I just need things to be normal. I just want to be okay.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-79552381805920220072008-11-15T20:13:00.003-05:002008-11-15T20:23:39.328-05:006 monthsDear Savannah -<br /><br />Is it possible that half of a year has flown by so quickly? How can you possibly be 6 months old today? This time 6 months ago, I had just sent you back to the nursery with your daddy for the night, in pain and uncomfortable from surgery, and floating on Cloud 9 from finally getting to meet my baby girl. We hadn't picked your name yet, so we were just calling you "Baby Girl." I had my heart set on naming you Norah, but when you came out you looked nothing like a Norah, and that threw me for a loop. <br /><br />You amaze me, Savannah. How you function on so little sleep is beyond me, and you are always smiling, always happy. You adore your big brother, and you so badly want to do everything he does. You want to get down and play with him. You want whatever he's eating. You are obsessed with his cup. You watch everything he does, and you look at him with such adoring eyes that it melts my heart.<br /><br />You are a wonderful eater. Overnight, it seems, you have taken to solid foods with a liking that I've never seen in a baby before. You can't pile in the squash and carrots quickly enough, and you let me know that you're not happy when I don't move fast enough for you.<br /><br />You are getting so close to crawling already - you can scooch yourself in every direction but haven't officially taken that first crawling move yet. Any day now, though, and Mama's not sure that she's ready for you to be mobile yet!<br /><br />You love the song "There Was An Old Lady..." and "Hush, Little Baby," and you love for me to sing the chapi chapo song to you while you're eating. You're so silly and so much fun. You're a hit every week at church, constantly amusing and drawing smiles and laughter from the people around us, most often the result of the fabulous raspberries you blow.<br /><br />You're such a joy, Savannah. You frustrate the living daylights out of me in a way that only a daughter can to her mother, but you have completed our family and I'm thankful every day for you and I love you.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-15103454358196320732008-11-10T14:06:00.003-05:002008-11-10T14:23:08.571-05:00Mourning<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmcol_L09kvyaq6UDqu-Bv2IGW34pckQVxG0uy5OjOeu0ZS9C4wuA0KwsnOcdisGHulljclE7LkvfKi4M96acKKATx9bn_583lMYsEfbLLBPGcDzEypOY5D-ODXnLQwPy_z0WnpQ/s1600-h/gumdrop+093.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267107720399793330" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmcol_L09kvyaq6UDqu-Bv2IGW34pckQVxG0uy5OjOeu0ZS9C4wuA0KwsnOcdisGHulljclE7LkvfKi4M96acKKATx9bn_583lMYsEfbLLBPGcDzEypOY5D-ODXnLQwPy_z0WnpQ/s320/gumdrop+093.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlI2hvC50eRNbiaLhsWwpl6P0uqmY59CNc_Vwx_UJnV92nSEWk52E_HmVDezl8HX4cbbij3ySflNTtOtRuMQX1UoyF5ikeo2HfXJ8IpwEzR0MhID533eMdMKy_4Fi-bC3dNKlfJQ/s1600-h/gumdrop+070.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267107709618965442" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlI2hvC50eRNbiaLhsWwpl6P0uqmY59CNc_Vwx_UJnV92nSEWk52E_HmVDezl8HX4cbbij3ySflNTtOtRuMQX1UoyF5ikeo2HfXJ8IpwEzR0MhID533eMdMKy_4Fi-bC3dNKlfJQ/s320/gumdrop+070.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>The 70-degree weather is finally gone. The above pictures were taken on Friday - today is Monday - and the high had reached 76 in this part of the state. This morning there was snow on the ground when we woke up. Gross. I'll carry fond memories of the warm months of 2008 with me for always. Memories of watching Nat discover bugs and the fun of digging in the mud and playing in his water table and coloring with chalk on the driveway and learning to ride his little bike. Of playing on his outside toy from Gran and Grandpa's Mustache. Of his obsession with spiders and crickets. I wonder if he'll enjoy these same things next year, or if a little bit of that sweetness, a little bit of that innocence will be gone. I'll remember Savannah dozing in the hot hot July heat, outside on her blanket, with the warm summer breeze blowing around her. I'll remember the look of wonder on her face when she first noticed leaves blowing on the trees. The look of determination on her face when watching her brother play, wishing that she could get down and run around with him, too. These kids will never remember the joy they brought me this summer, but I will. For always.</div><div> </div><div>I've gotten some more answers as to what has been causing me to feel awful since having Savannah. I have Hashimoto's Disease, as well as Vitamin D and Vitamin B12 deficiencies. Fun times. I have an ultrasound of my thyroid scheduled for this week because the endocrinologist feels an abnormality, which may or may not be the result of Hashimoto's. This ultrasound will rule out a goiter, nodules, and thyroid cancer. I'm nervous, obviously, but don't appear to have the classic symptoms of a goiter or cancer. I'll just be glad when it's over. </div><div> </div><div>I'm excited that the holiday season is fast approaching. Although he doesn't fully get it this year, Nat will have more of an understanding of the season, and I imagine a lot of fun will be had. We plan to spend Thanksgiving at our home, and then to my parents' home for Christmas Eve and part of Christmas Day. I remember being horribly morning sick during the holidays last year, so it will be nice to just be able to relax and have fun and enjoy everything this year. </div><div> </div><div>On a side note, please don't buy Yogi Tea Green Tea with Pomegranate. It tastes like feet.</div></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-68820283025166052802008-11-03T13:24:00.005-05:002008-11-03T14:35:16.490-05:00Birthday weekend<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>How a 2-year-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">old's</span> birthday can turn into a weekend-long event is beyond me, but it did. A good time was had by all, though, and that's all that matters. The actual birthday was on Halloween, and he was greeted by Cookie Monster blue streamers hanging all over the house. After a breakfast of homemade birthday waffles, it was time to open presents. If there is a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">diecast</span> Cars car he doesn't have I'll be shocked. It looks like Disney-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Pixar</span> threw up in my house. Mack the Truck was a favorite gift as well. We went to Chuck E Cheese for lunch - our first time there - and seeing his little eyes light up when we went in was worth the obscene amount of money they charge you for food (and I use that term loosely) and tokens. Dinner was at home, followed by cake #1, and then we sat outside and handed out candy to the trick-or-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">treaters</span>.</div><div><br />Birthday party on Saturday, held at a children's museum that he loves and that we have a membership to. Family and friends came from all around to help us celebrate. Nat had a blast, but I have to say that the highlight of the day for me was displaying the Cookie Monster cake I baked and decorated. :) </div><div><br />The celebration seemed to continue yesterday when we decided to bid adieu to the Zanzibar jungle themed bedroom and turn it into a Cars-themed big boy room. Oddly enough, it was that process that made me realize that I can't really call him a baby anymore - even though I will - and that he is, in fact, a big boy. </div><div><br />Some pictures:</div><div>Last day as a one year old!</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhds959CFRdKlQDr5RkDzsRoPHkJOp4BQV_fnA3Kg1AXxv9Th8-VD9Aak16pdwEvkEMWiVpoLD2uz387eKxOLFN5-l3A8_7T7oYAyWgeCfvWWAuDt5tbsmWl4o03XAmcPAGvGIXnA/s1600-h/gumdrop+028.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264503979561443986" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhds959CFRdKlQDr5RkDzsRoPHkJOp4BQV_fnA3Kg1AXxv9Th8-VD9Aak16pdwEvkEMWiVpoLD2uz387eKxOLFN5-l3A8_7T7oYAyWgeCfvWWAuDt5tbsmWl4o03XAmcPAGvGIXnA/s320/gumdrop+028.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div>The cutest scarecrow ever<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2DJqLD7BbhQu6C4E7QrUvrqzA_D5xOgyj5gX2FuDiYbhseeFy0cEzxOn4z_0j9qWcXkfTt880rve3-_0eJjnkv4IUv045H3smRyku1lvZMnGT8nkevdntf5EdHGue0onzuEqurg/s1600-h/gumdrop+043.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264503973021814018" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2DJqLD7BbhQu6C4E7QrUvrqzA_D5xOgyj5gX2FuDiYbhseeFy0cEzxOn4z_0j9qWcXkfTt880rve3-_0eJjnkv4IUv045H3smRyku1lvZMnGT8nkevdntf5EdHGue0onzuEqurg/s320/gumdrop+043.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Mmm</span> - birthday waffles!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2LoVeMoK8exjA9elVsv4kGDcLtQO2pLoqUt1w88XXnxDdqvYUvJPxmPOpXLM9cS67ofoF8D7xtVWCNR4aazIZ0o_JRVIxXOBoOSZz051Kjc9cOtLRxGZY1PD3rQTEYlBfgzGnKw/s1600-h/gumdrop+027.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264506048547553122" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2LoVeMoK8exjA9elVsv4kGDcLtQO2pLoqUt1w88XXnxDdqvYUvJPxmPOpXLM9cS67ofoF8D7xtVWCNR4aazIZ0o_JRVIxXOBoOSZz051Kjc9cOtLRxGZY1PD3rQTEYlBfgzGnKw/s320/gumdrop+027.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div><br />Quite possibly the best pumpkin I've ever carved.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVocNUxsuFl_y5OaH_ANZY3m4trH4XY6OJo9hEXfjX5w_-GLtdiijzlT7dME5mmj18JXHNBeyZq4owAO0aJxCkOqpIJcsZiErMc_JTZE3C7o2LLOujzOuU0FqVxOEhsLv39uT0pg/s1600-h/gumdrop+030.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264503968664384322" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVocNUxsuFl_y5OaH_ANZY3m4trH4XY6OJo9hEXfjX5w_-GLtdiijzlT7dME5mmj18JXHNBeyZq4owAO0aJxCkOqpIJcsZiErMc_JTZE3C7o2LLOujzOuU0FqVxOEhsLv39uT0pg/s320/gumdrop+030.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>Cookie Monster cake for party day<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkt1xiDnd6kZ9HoBvtWk3AnZmvWzDAmp9KVE22Jw0Qpb0ofEMvjyV1QKHCVT9HTOUGKhJ211YL73hKaeJrsAzSzTt5WHdh1Ro4IPZs8uaqrqUpi272u20VijgFBkBgMpIDO75dPA/s1600-h/cookie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264503978905708210" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkt1xiDnd6kZ9HoBvtWk3AnZmvWzDAmp9KVE22Jw0Qpb0ofEMvjyV1QKHCVT9HTOUGKhJ211YL73hKaeJrsAzSzTt5WHdh1Ro4IPZs8uaqrqUpi272u20VijgFBkBgMpIDO75dPA/s320/cookie.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>The favorite <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">CEC</span> attraction.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkAFpqB-WfLJ7ftvOa6av6PxhVEGO6YxoExQDgh38Jgo0-eSs025TFm3rPX9jOiaXziDgl3SFo__DdAWdNDiZqmMA6CnB9ktN898rdzjdQ2AhSlm6LZgEIQX9ObuZzkC3Es5QwAA/s1600-h/gumdrop+060.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264506052850230178" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkAFpqB-WfLJ7ftvOa6av6PxhVEGO6YxoExQDgh38Jgo0-eSs025TFm3rPX9jOiaXziDgl3SFo__DdAWdNDiZqmMA6CnB9ktN898rdzjdQ2AhSlm6LZgEIQX9ObuZzkC3Es5QwAA/s320/gumdrop+060.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div>Digging in the rice table at the museum w/ Auntie Alex</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCD2EtDdF0Wr1j-ud309U-bgj-6DDCigEy9dUX2aSFvSllu6hYCaER7t6RLAt6JfyT3nc1gJP7PPhsdfgGj0aTYPdIOvTkFlR-Gk0hp3aUm_fzMThWjIk1pbxRLA8sJp5bFPV6mQ/s1600-h/party2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264506056806285634" style="WIDTH: 179px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCD2EtDdF0Wr1j-ud309U-bgj-6DDCigEy9dUX2aSFvSllu6hYCaER7t6RLAt6JfyT3nc1gJP7PPhsdfgGj0aTYPdIOvTkFlR-Gk0hp3aUm_fzMThWjIk1pbxRLA8sJp5bFPV6mQ/s320/party2.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div>Making a wish while blowing out the candles on party day.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjroDcO6feLddAVBE6fozPQls8kjVyEw_c2bvzN-ln-EwY5SvbF5GqqzyQ8iskF1aMhetEejJ6mwK-g6eTf2LzYFifTrCQmL9goZ7wZuTOyxpTiV0ZJsfmeOENiMXYaJCMOSvPEzA/s1600-h/party1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264506051929433362" style="WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjroDcO6feLddAVBE6fozPQls8kjVyEw_c2bvzN-ln-EwY5SvbF5GqqzyQ8iskF1aMhetEejJ6mwK-g6eTf2LzYFifTrCQmL9goZ7wZuTOyxpTiV0ZJsfmeOENiMXYaJCMOSvPEzA/s320/party1.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div>Savannah and Daddy at the party</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOyqbuPQVHhs8ibcedfRj5StJj553yKGoVlI1ASpoNU2Tw7pwhoqQH9XwoxLkp4ybKMNZbpA-ohR8r6OIWBXpym1zgrp1GjUBwnN2AOKVDv3q8XwMp1sapV7KJjaG1hPDSdY3saA/s1600-h/party3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264506059010103218" style="WIDTH: 179px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOyqbuPQVHhs8ibcedfRj5StJj553yKGoVlI1ASpoNU2Tw7pwhoqQH9XwoxLkp4ybKMNZbpA-ohR8r6OIWBXpym1zgrp1GjUBwnN2AOKVDv3q8XwMp1sapV7KJjaG1hPDSdY3saA/s320/party3.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-54973746147608106762008-10-31T10:18:00.003-04:002008-10-31T10:31:38.886-04:00And today you are twoHappy second birthday, Nathanael!<br /><br />I can hardly believe that you, my baby boy, are already two - you're not a baby anymore. You're growing up to be such a big boy! You've been so excited about your birthday all week, proudly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">announcing</span> to anyone and everyone that you were turning two. <br /><br />I hope that this next year of your life brings you as much joy and happiness as this past year seems to have brought you. You are so loved, and I want you to continue to know and feel that every day.<br /><br />You are such a blessing to our lives, Nat. You are sweet, kindhearted, sensitive, loving, SO smart and SO very funny. You bring a smile to my lips and heart all the time, even through your tantrums and emphatic strings of telling me "NO!"<br /><br />I love you. You're so very special to me, and I love you more and more every day. Off you go, and off you grow....but stay my baby a little longer, okay?<br /><br />Happy birthday, my Natty. My lovey <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">dovey</span>. My handsome handsome. I love you.<br /><br />Our first family picture<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZSNqodw35SnAzb2OXi-Wau7un6mB0UpPDIWcMwaSiMympsOJADPyE5icgZlt-dRy-epyHIvTazXBY_-vDto-8Tk3YTL7vGJxaagPElPQRUHcYtM6yj3V2qquXoRD6NwxKCL-Cw/s1600-h/csections.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263324185825665074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZSNqodw35SnAzb2OXi-Wau7un6mB0UpPDIWcMwaSiMympsOJADPyE5icgZlt-dRy-epyHIvTazXBY_-vDto-8Tk3YTL7vGJxaagPElPQRUHcYtM6yj3V2qquXoRD6NwxKCL-Cw/s320/csections.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-62157990857762969072008-10-16T14:35:00.003-04:002008-10-16T14:41:39.166-04:00The stuff my nightmares are made ofOr, my own personal Arachnophobia.<br /><br />These dudes were living on my mailbox until my brute of a husband came home and made them ex-spiders. I hate, loathe, and despise spiders. They scare me. As Nat would say, they give me the "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">heebie</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">jeebies</span>" and "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">creepin</span>' willies." So when I walked outside the other day to retrieve the mail, imagine my horror when I saw these 2 evil creatures guarding the mailbox. It made me throw up in a mouth. My skin is crawling as I type this while looking at the pictures. Creepy. <br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwUwNJPIOozsZS669IE9OR4Sb1NxipYR98q9rNzeqwaLcjRq4W1lN_1QrsbA6Gu3ge6mTnGRBwWxeGH-a-MSHAQQ2OjyYg1L-r-oJFXlXSdHZTiFJTBvrrsYm8unrYlt_E8Ah_Q/s1600-h/gumdrop+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257822894476347186" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwUwNJPIOozsZS669IE9OR4Sb1NxipYR98q9rNzeqwaLcjRq4W1lN_1QrsbA6Gu3ge6mTnGRBwWxeGH-a-MSHAQQ2OjyYg1L-r-oJFXlXSdHZTiFJTBvrrsYm8unrYlt_E8Ah_Q/s320/gumdrop+001.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjttp02tJHIX7fKw7WOoHykjaPNnDnrYU-nMrcFz0HTkFucw7HXIS5mWynHDjltBxtEsf6odj7X6THWkMZ7DKkqwyRov5ZyywlCxF58fMf6pLOzmyGWKFeh-IRoZog3ebxE5Xlgg/s1600-h/gumdrop+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257822902571054978" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjttp02tJHIX7fKw7WOoHykjaPNnDnrYU-nMrcFz0HTkFucw7HXIS5mWynHDjltBxtEsf6odj7X6THWkMZ7DKkqwyRov5ZyywlCxF58fMf6pLOzmyGWKFeh-IRoZog3ebxE5Xlgg/s320/gumdrop+002.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div> </div><br /><div></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-84052639574114717012008-10-10T13:35:00.002-04:002008-10-10T13:56:17.899-04:00Seriously, Calgon, please take me away.I'm pretty sure I've been in hell all week. The children are driving me nuts. Remember when I wrote a few posts ago about having an occasional bad day, the kind of day that made me wish for a job again? This has been that day. Times 7. All week. Every last minute of it. <br /><br />The "terrible twos" have officially arrived at our house. I'm so over it. I'm tired of being told no by someone half my size. I'm tired of watching him throw himself on the floor when he doesn't get his way. I'm tired of having him shove his plate at me when he doesn't approve of what I've cooked for dinner. I have no idea where the attitude came from, but it got to the point this week where I was giving it back to him. Counterproductive, yes, but I reached the end of my rope by Monday afternoon. I'm ready to check myself into rehab just to get away from my kids.<br /><br />The girl child? Forget it. She's at the top of my list. She discovered how to whine this week, and while it was cute for, oh, the first five seconds, it's annoying now. To the point where I want to rip my ears off just so I don't have to hear it anymore. She's currently refusing to take her bottle unless she's sitting in her car seat. That's fine, unless of course I'd like to be doing something with my other child so that he doesn't feel alienated or neglected or like I don't love him anymore. I saw a doctor this week who asked if I planned on having anymore children. I laughed like a maniac. She probably thinks I'm nuts. Truth is I'd be nuts to have another child. I don't think I'm a capable mother. I don't think I'm a good mother. How can I be? It's not normal to feel this way.<br /><br />Speaking of <em>not normal to feel this way</em>, the answers have begun to arrive as far as my health is concerned. After having 19 vials of blood drawn a few weeks ago at the order of my new neurologist (he was, I'm assuming, testing for everything under the sun), the doctor tells me I tested positive for thyroid antibodies, which most likely means that I have Hashimoto's Disease. No big deal to me, as I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism last year. I'll now be seeing an endocrinologist to confirm the diagnosis and he'll dig a little more to see if there's anything else auto-immune going on. A few other things popped up on the results, but I'm not sure what, if anything, it means. I have a brain and spine MRI scheduled in a few weeks, and we'll see what, if anything, those show. In any case, I'm thankful that we're finally figuring something out. I'm so done with feeling lousy. <br /><br />I'm addicted to Facebook. Seriously, OCD-addicted to it. If I'm lucky enough to have both children napping at the same time, I'll be on Facebook looking to see if everyone I've ever known in my life is on there, too. On Facebook and want to be friends? <br />E-mail me at mama_worrywart at yahoo dot com. For those of you who have my other e-mail address, please continue to use it, as this is just my blog-related e-mail.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-70963108750155026972008-10-06T17:55:00.002-04:002008-10-06T17:56:40.525-04:00I'm no maverick, dontcha know. *wink wink* You betcha!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUdN8BV53VNqXa-czJKa0JO1fFCqy8jKO3DjEP_UuoeV4psYxXeaWpNaKP2y8KpfXwQ38CfSZHwl7o5wgxE4fRuvhUYJVOSRLmCbKkAdi_memZa1b1-cU1sG0F-1Nq7us8NJjAw/s1600-h/f84ae6d1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254163144763383570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUdN8BV53VNqXa-czJKa0JO1fFCqy8jKO3DjEP_UuoeV4psYxXeaWpNaKP2y8KpfXwQ38CfSZHwl7o5wgxE4fRuvhUYJVOSRLmCbKkAdi_memZa1b1-cU1sG0F-1Nq7us8NJjAw/s320/f84ae6d1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I worry about the future of this country. Not for myself, but for my children. Oh - and hers, too.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004532.post-78189015736288280402008-09-30T13:23:00.002-04:002008-09-30T13:59:27.488-04:00Inspiration, aspiration, consternationNat is 23 months old. Tomorrow, actually. I can't believe he's almost 2. Maybe if I don't think about it it won't happen, and he'll stay my sweet boy forever. Poor baby has a bad cold. Both kiddos do, but he's especially cute because he's so stuffed that "mama" is coming out "baba." Yesterday, he was pleading, "Baba, fix duffy dode." Translation? <em>Mama, fix stuffy nose. </em>Cute.<br /><br />I'm in a bit of a state of confusion lately, hence the title of this post. From the day I found out I was pregnant with Nat it was agreed upon between Hubs and I that I would be the primary caregiver, the one who would forgo furthering a career to stay at home to take care of the children. I planned to return to work when Nat was in school full time. Getting pregnant with Savannah delayed that plan by another year or two. I have days on which I long for the opportunity to return to work. I don't have a specific job to return to because I've not worked since we moved to the Buffalo area, but on the occasional rough day I would run back to an office and try to mend the hearts and minds of troubled youth in a flash. Until recently.<br /><br />My children are inspiring me to become a better person. I am told that this is not uncommon. They've inspired me to become reacquainted with and more involved in the Catholic church, and in doing so I've become even more inspired to be the best wife and mother that I can be. I love circular effects. <br /><br />I've had many aspirations over my lifetime. When I was a little girl I wanted to be a ballerina, a nun, and a teacher. When I was in high school I wanted to be a psychiatric social worker. Once I was in college I wanted to change the world. When I hit graduate school I just wanted to make a fat amount of money. It wasn't until I became a mother that I realized just how much I wanted to be a mother. To raise a baby to be a good, well-rounded, honest, loving, faithful, and caring person. Having a second baby doubled this desire and cemented the fact that I was put here to be a mother, specifically a mother to these two children. In the first few months of being a new and first time mother, I lamented over not having gotten as far as possible in my chosen field. I had given up on thinking that I'd change the world. Oh, how I was wrong. I realize today that I'm changing the world in the best way possible - <a href="http://music.yahoo.com/Steven-Curtis-Chapman/One-Heartbeat-At-A-Time/lyrics/50329485">one heartbeat at a time.</a> <br /><br />I love staying at home with my children. I get looks of pity and disgust at times when asked what I do and respond that I'm a SAHM. They've chosen what's best for them, and I've chosen what's best for my family. It means not having our own home right now. It means having debt. It means not wearing fancy clothes. I wouldn't change it for the world.<br /><br />I aspire now to be the kind of mom who is always there for her children, physically and emotionally. I'm sure I'll get eye rolls and "OMGs," but are you familiar with Annie Camden, the uber-mom from 7th Heaven? That's what I want. That's what I want to be. Supermom, I guess. Soccer mom and PTA mom and best-bake sale-mom and cool mom all rolled into one. Would my kids love this or hate this? Would they resent me for not working? Would they be embarrassed? I can see it now. <em>Hey Nat, my mom's a doctor</em> or <em>Hey Savannah, my mom's an aeronautical engineer. What does YOUR mom do? </em>My own mom will tell me about my peers who are in the process of becoming doctors or this and that, and after a fleeting moment of wondering if she's as proud of me as those mothers are of their children, I sit back and remind myself that I endured two awful pregnancies and gave birth to two beautiful children, and am doing my darnedest to ensure that they grow up feeling and knowing that they are loved, cherished, supported, and protected. That has to count for something, doesn't it?McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17649501900098676628noreply@blogger.com3