Channeling Bruce Banner?

At work today:

I opened the refrigerator door and looked at my food space and noticed my half loaf of Brownberry Country Oatmeal bread was gone.

What?!? I didn’t eat half a loaf since lunch YESTERDAY. It was just here on top of my ham!  Between the pears and the wall! Did someone move it?? (scanned kitchen counters and refrigerator drawers)  Eat it?? I’ll check the trash and see if the bag is there. Ick.

I could feel my heart rate increasing. Upon moving some K-cups and paper towels I noticed that sure enough the bag for my bread was in the trash. And twist-tied within was my half loaf.

What?!?!?!  Why in the world would someone throw away someone else’s bread?? What kind of colossal jerk face would do that?!?!

I pulled out the bread and rinsed off the outside bag. Heart pounding in my ears, OCD flipping out that MY FOOD WAS IN THE TRASH, it’s a good thing I can’t turn into the Incredible Hulk or I would have been standing in tattered slacks and heels in the office kitchen. Nearly in angry tears I took a breath and dried the bag off.  Then I couldn’t handle it anymore and pulled out the inner bag – thank you Brownberry for wrapping your bread in two bags, my OCD was soothed a bit.

I walked into the nearest attorney’s office, “Knock, knock. I don’t know why you might have, but did you by chance throw away the bread from the first shelf in the refrigerator?” I said sweetly, well as sweetly as a person can when all you want to do is start screaming down the hall about misogynistic jerks and disrespect of other people’s property.

He looked at me baffled, “No. Why would that happen? Has it gone bad?”

“No, it’s not blue, green or even stale. I was just checking. Thanks.” I moved on to the next attorney’s office and repeated my question.

“OH! I’m sorry, I thought that was mine.  I brought a loaf like that a few weeks ago and I thought it was that one and threw it out.” Staring at the half loaf under my arm and the still damp, empty bread bag and twist tie in my other hand. “I’ll buy you a new loaf. I’m sorry.”

“Nope, you threw your bread away with the ends still in it a week or so ago. Don’t worry about buying me more, it comes in two bags so it’s okay. Thanks.”  Then I walked back into the first guy’s office and filled him in on the situation, not that he was nearly incensed as I was, but he was curious as to why someone would throw away someone else’s bread.

In hindsight, I had to chuckle at my anger over a bread issue. Perhaps my hormones are a little out of whack.

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Friday Funny #64: This is why I must keep the Otterbox

Two Saturdays ago I was up and out of bed super early in preparation for our first baby shower.  The shower was held at The Glitz restaurant at Irish Acres Antiques – a lovely little place with delicious food.  Since the location was an hour away from our home base, I volunteered to drive my mom, B’s mom, and Tracy.  Being that I seldom have more than one person in the car with me and most often my only passengers are of the canine persuasion, I had some serious car cleaning to do.  Like most things, this task took much longer than anticipated.

I was outside cleaning the car before the sun came up.  B called to say he was at work and I placed my phone on top of the car for safe keeping.  I took a break for breakfast and went back out to work.  That little car was practically sparkling on the inside, but the outside was still covered in salt solution from all our winter weather road treatments.  Clearly this would need attention.

I went back inside for some water and to grab my purse and keys.  On my way out, I nearly brought the dogs with me – DUH I had just vacuumed a dog-worth of fur out of the backseat and off the ceiling.  I hopped in and pulled out driving to our nearest, if not our best, car wash.

Did I mention that I needed to leave my house by 9:10 to pick up my mom and at this time it was 8:30 and I had not showered?  Yeah, time management is not my strong suit these days.  I zipped to the car wash, selected my option, fed my money, and slowly pulled in for the undercarriage cleaning.  Get that salt and mud off!

And then, like a lightening bolt it hit me.  My Phone.  MY PHONE!!!  Literally, I smacked both hands to my head.  Gah – it must be in the street outside my house.  CRAP IT’S BEEN RUN OVER!!!  Well, maybe it’s still on top of the car?  What are the odds of that though, after driving more than three miles with several turns? 

But throwing caution to the wind and acknowledging that the car wash sprayers had finished their pre-soak and were just about to start the power washing, I rolled down my window and peered on top of the car.  There the phone was, sitting just where I left it.  I whipped my arm out and grabbed that sucker, quickly getting back inside and rolling up the window.  I still needed to get a shower, but not from the power washers.

My phone was completely fine.  A little damp, but all I had to do was pull off the rubber cover and wipe it dry. Thank goodness for the grippy Otterbox.

Then it was off to the gas station – because Heaven forbid I do any proper planning and have enough gas in the tank to drive us all up and back.

By the time I got home, got the dogs out for their last potty break and got myself out of the shower, I had 17 minutes to get dressed, my makeup on, my hair fixed, and out the door.  And that is what I did.  Well, my hair was sort of dry and I had a ponytail holder handy, but otherwise I was ready for my very first baby shower and running right on time.  Whew.

A Photo Dump of Sorts

The same night B and I had our chili cheese dogs, B took the pups to the vet.  A needed her annual check-up and vaccinations.  G was being seen for a nail trim and what could have possibly been hip issues.  A couple of times we noticed that when he stood by the bed and then jumped up, he would whine once he landed.  If he was jumping from a run or walk then he was fine.  I was hopeful that it was just a wonky and uncomfortable toenail.  He’s a nail chewer, by the way.  But according to the vet that evening, G has the beginnings of a torn ligament in one of his rear knees.  The surgery the vet described that would eventually be needed sounds absolutely horrific. Big dogs don’t do well with it, especially ones that can’t be crated (he freaks out) that are old.  So we needed to keep him from jumping up and down on the bed.  The couch is low enough, or he’s tall enough, that he can just step onto it.  And we need to stop taking him hiking with us.  He can still go for walks and play with A, but overall we need to keep his paws firmly on the ground with no more leaping.

When we arrived home with our pups and dinner, we Googled “pet stairs” and called a couple PetsMart stores to see if they had stairs in stock sturdy enough to hold our 100 pound baby, but no luck.

B ended up lifting G up and down off the bed that night.  The next evening after work, B and a friend got together and built these:

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The best darn puppy stairs ever.  Sturdy enough to hold a 200 pound man.  We had to put a towel between the back of the stairs and the bed, but otherwise they are absolutely perfect.  G responds very well to positive reinforcement and after training with a scoop of kibble and lots of praise, he’s using his stairs about 90% of the time.  He’s less likely to use them to get down, but we take what we can get and guide him when we can.

We also started him on Polychews for Older Dogs, as recommended by a vet friend of mine.  A gets them too.  You’d think we were hanging a pound of bacon slathered in peanut butter over their heads when it’s treat time.  We’re thankful they enjoy their “treats” so well.

Moving on…

One Saturday morning when the temperature was crazy cold with a wind chill of insane, I did my prenatal workout DVDs.  I followed these with a cup of Mocha Mint coffee and a green smoothie.  It was a good start to my day indoors!

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I highly recommend the Erin O’Brien Fitness Fix workout.  She’s fairly pleasant and you do get a sweat on.  The prenatal yoga DVD I picked up at the library, and promptly took back after doing it once.  That lady’s voice WAS annoying.  I much prefer my Crunch Gym prenatal yoga DVD that B gave me for Christmas.  (He also gave me the Erin O’Brien DVD which comes with a postnatal workout too.)

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S doing her yoga with me…

After all that exercise a girl needs her sweet tooth satisfied, yes?  Well, look no further than OREOS!

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These ended up being my breakfast one Saturday morning.  By accident actually.  I had gone running, stopped by the store on my way home to grab groceries, saw these and couldn’t resist trying the Marshmallow Crispy flavor.  If you’ve not tried them yet – go grab a bag, or three!  The are delicious!!  I only allowed myself to try one flavor and my friend Janine confirmed I made the right choice not picking the Cookie Dough Oreos.

I got home and put away the groceries.  As the coffee was brewing I was trying to decide between oatmeal and eggs, and then before I knew it I was scarfing down Oreos and texting a couple of my sugar-loving friends. I ended up eating six for breakfast and a yogurt.  I’m not proud, people.  Just keeping it real.

But really, go try the Marshmallow Crispy Oreos. They are worth it!

Friday Funny # 49 and # 50: Two at Once Because I’m a Slacker

Friday Funny # 49 (I had this ready to go, but then life got in the way and I never scheduled the publishing.)

Brought to you by the wit of Jen Lancaster and her Facebook page.

Sunday:
Me:  I don’t like a lot of the modern Christmas songs.
Fletch:  Me neither.  I prefer my Christmas music a little more Old Testament.
Me: Totally agree.
Monday: … Me:  You realize we’re idiots, right?
(This is not a riddle, per se, but it might take you a minute.  If it takes you less than 24 hours, you’re definitely smarter than we are.)
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Friday Funny # 50 (We are back on schedule now. Whew!)

*Warning:  This is a True Confession bit and could be considered crude and in bad taste.  Please feel free to stop reading if you are civilized.*

Last Thursday on the main floor of my house.  I had placed a bottle of water, a couple slices of bread in a sandwich bag, an apple and a bag containing the last four sugar cookies on the back of the kitchen counter.  I had taken the dogs out for a bathroom break before work and decided I needed a potty break before work too thanks to my water drinking habit.  I situated my dress and such and sat down to take care of things.  From the other side of the door (the kitchen) I hear the click of claws hitting the counter top.

Me:  “G get down now!!  That’s not for you!”

*rustle, rustle*

Me:  “NO!!!  G GET DOWN NOW!!! ”

*rustle, rustle, smack*

Me:  Jumping off the toilet, underroos around my knees, high heels clicking away as I sprint out into the kitchen screaming, “NOOO!! NOOO!!  NOOOOOOO!!!  BAD DOG!!!!”

I grabbed at G as he was trying to (literally) inhale another sugar cookie from the bag he’d successfully ripped open.  I missed his collar on his way out of the kitchen, but dove at him and caught some fur on his back hip and held tight.  He did not like this and whipped his head around as if to say, “Hey, let go you big meanie.”  I didn’t.

I kneeled there spanking my dog for eating the cookies and then let him go.

He took off to the sanctuary of the living room leaving the shredded bag of cookie crumbs scattered with me on my hands and knees, dress down, underroos still around my knees.  I leaned my head against the refrigerator door and started to cry.  Big, fat, ugly cry.  In the moment, with adrenaline and pregnancy hormones raging, I wasn’t sure if I was crying over punishing my older dog right before leaving him alone for a few hours or over the fact that I wouldn’t get to eat the season’s last sugar cookies.

I righted myself and cleaned up  the cookie massacre.

It was a tough call to make, but having buttermilk pralines and divinity to easy the pain helped me realize: I hate punishing my puppies, even if they do deserve it.

Pickles and Ice Cream

Well, the cat is out of the bag box….

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B and I are officially announcing our pregnancy to the world.  Hello world!  We’re knocked up!

We are 17 1/2 weeks along and doing just fine.  What you’ve missed …

Amanda was twenty-five weeks pregnant and I was four weeks, except I didn’t know it here:

Visiting with Amanda in Missouri

Visiting with Amanda in Missouri

I found out I was pregnant the next day because I was “late” and did a pee stick test, saw the “+” sign and thought, “Oh.  Oh wow.  Huh.”  And then went out for my morning run.  It took me most of the day to get over the shock.  Due to our opposite sleep and work schedules, I told B we were pregnant as he was getting ready for bed that night.  We high-fived.  It took him a while to get over the shock too.

Morning Sickness:  Not too bad really.  I was fine early in the mornings and never had to miss a workout because of it.  About the time I got to work I would start to feel queasy (Coincidence?? Perhaps.), but as long as I ate a little something every couple hours – mostly protein like Greek yogurt or cheese – I was fine.  Most nights I had to go to bed around 9 p.m. because the queasy would get too bad to bother with.

I had food aversions to coffee, sweets, and raw vegetables.  But those are all gone now.  So far, I’ve not had any cravings outside of my usual pre-pregnancy cravings.

I didn’t have any exhaustion in the first trimester, but did have a lot of headaches.  Honestly, I’m not sure if they were all hormone related or if they were allergies and my switching to Benadryl to treat them.  (I have horrible fall allergies.)  I had one bout of a migraine aura, but thankfully no migraine pain.

For about two weeks I had crazy itchy arms and thought I just might scratch through my skin it was so bad.

Then acne reared it’s ugly head.  Enough said.

I still have my mood swings where I am quite possibly the most hateful person on the planet.  My apologies to any of you who have been or will be snapped at.

Bless B for putting up with me!  He’s been super supportive and protective.  Really words can do no justice to how wonderful and excited and real B has been these last few months.  I am thankful every day that he is my husband and my partner through life’s varying journeys.

We are craptastic at remembering to do belly shots, but here are the two taken so far…

Six Weeks!

Six Weeks!

And the belly has grown, but the hair has been shortened…

12 1/2 weeks!

12 1/2 weeks!

We still need to do the 16 week belly shot, but now we are already 17 1/2 weeks in so I guess it’ll be 18 week shots.  Assuming we take the pictures soon.  Warning: There will be a big belly difference in that one.

I don’t know if that warning is more for you readers or for me.  Ha!  Honestly, I’ve been having weight acceptance issues, but I know I am not alone.

To tell our families we were knocked up we did a photo shoot with the dogs and a tiny pair of shoes.  Here are some of the shots from that…

They can hardly contain their excitement...

They can hardly contain their excitement…

We put pieces of kibble in the shoes to get their attention

We put pieces of kibble in the shoes to get their attention

This is what we hung on our refrigerator

This is what we hung on our refrigerator

But because the little shoes are slightly cut off, we opted to give the grandparents framed copies of this shot without their grandpuppies:

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It was so much fun to watch the recognition of a new baby joining our family wash over everyone’s faces.  My mom did a happy dance and B’s mom cried tears of joy. Precious excitement for sure.

B and I traveled down to see Granny in order to tell her the news.  She and my aunt were very surprised that “after all this time” we were finally going to have a baby.  I assured Granny that we didn’t want to rush into anything and eleven years of marriage seemed like a fine time to start a family.  Gran was so sweet and cheeky.  We’d all start talking about something else and then randomly she or my aunt would bring up something baby related.  Granny is super excited to be a great-grandmother again.

We were six weeks along when we had our first ultrasound and got to hear and see the heartbeat for the first time.  It was just awesome to experience and once that little bit of reality was flickering on the screen, B gave me a kiss and we high-fived again.  To celebrate we had Chick-Fil-A for breakfast and then went to our midwife appointment.  And that is the last time I will have much breakfast before my morning appointments.  Yikes – that scale was hateful!

Baby's first photo shoot.  According to the ultrasound tech and our midwife, you v=can see the side view of baby on the left side of that gray blob in the middle.  You may need to squint or relax your eyes though to see it.  Sort of like those old 3-D posters that were popular about twenty years ago.

Baby’s first photo shoot. According to the ultrasound tech and our midwife, you can see the side view of baby on the left side of that gray blob in the middle. You may need to squint or relax your eyes though to see it. Sort of like those 3-D posters that were popular about twenty years ago.

We will find out what we are having on December 20th.  YAY!!

I’m still running five days a week, though beginning to think a belly band will be beneficial soon; still working out with Kyle and my girlfriends three times a week; and recently have started back to yoga.  Fortunately for me, my yoga instructor is also pregnant so I have no trouble copying her modified prenatal moves.

It is possible my spine issues and numbness are related to the pregnancy, but there really is no way to know right now what the cause is.  Regardless of the Why? of it, I’m hopeful the problems will be resolved well before our May due date.

I am certain I am leaving stuff out so please remind me or ask me any questions in the comments section.

Whew!  I’m glad to get that out there!

One of THOSE Days

5:45 a.m.  Walking with B and telling him, “I’m so tired.  I just want to go back to bed.”

7:10 a.m. Bangs decide they are suddenly too long to stay in proper position and assume the flat-against-the head-but-with-enough-curl-to stab-the-eyeballs position.

7:30 a.m.  Eating yogurt that tastes funny.  Am more than two-thirds through it before I notice it expired.  On October 18.

7:33 a.m.  Smear peach preserves over both slices of whole wheat toast certain I will like the flavor combination.  I am wrong.

10:10  Grab my morning snack and bite into an orange slice.  Continue tasting the rest of the orange slices, conclude the orange has turned, much like my yogurt.  Rinse mouth out at office kitchen sink.

2:25 p.m.  Make hot cocoa in attempt to make up for not being able to go back to bed and eating rotten food.  A small comfort.

2:30 p.m.  Say a prayer that husband will cook dinner tonight and do a load of laundry.

2:31 p.m.  Count the (many) minutes until I can crawl back in bed.  Hopefully.

Hope your day has been better.  Or at least involved less rotten food.

Nervous Nelly – An Update

Friday evening I made The Pioneer Woman’s Italian Chicken Soup.  Mmmmm… soup!  It’s so good.

I got up and ran six miles on Saturday and then spent the entire day at my church’s Arts & Crafts for Missions Fair.  I was the lunch ticket lady, but filled in here and there throughout the rest of the day where needed.  It was so much fun and I can’t wait till next year’s Fair.

I was so happy to have that soup ready for dinner Saturday night.  Nothing like not having to cook after a long day to put a smile on your face.

Sunday morning Dana and I ran and walked together and then I went back to church.  Afterward I ate more soup and watched a Harry Potter movie.  Sometimes you just need some time to relax and recoup, ya know?

Last night B and I volunteered with Operation S.E.N.D. Christmas in an effort to support our troops.  We hadn’t heard of this event before, but jumped on the chance once one of B’s coworkers brought it to his attention.

We were starving by the time the packing was done, so on the way home I convinced B we needed to eat at Puccini’sI’ve been wanting to try it for ages, but we never get to the area.  Being pizza lovers, we each ordered our own pies.  B opted for the Ultimate Warrior and I had the Margherita.  I cannot find a Margherita pizza at a pizza restaurant anywhere, that was until I saw their menu.  Sadly, the flavor was lacking for what I was used to (darn you Roman pizza places!!).   I still want to go back though to try their spinach ravioli.  I’ve heard great things about it.

I had a follow-up neurologist appointment this morning; and I go back again in another six weeks.

Good news… I’m healing so there is no tumor.  Yay! I consider that very good news.

However, he does think it’s Transverse Myelitis.  We hope it will continue to resolve itself over time and he sees no benefit for physical therapy or the chiropractor at this time.  We will revisit this when I see him in December.

So, if you don’t mind, please continue to pray for and put out positive thoughts for my continued healing.  I appreciate it all very much.

That’s about all the medical stuff I can handle today.

(Getting on my) Nerves.

Two visits to the chiropractor under my belt and I’m happy to report she has not paralyzed me.  I hope she keeps up this track record.  I have some spotty return of feeling, but I’m not certain this is physically possible so it may just be the placebo effect.  Most of me is still numb and tingling.

On the plus side, the neurologist’s office just called and told me they had an earlier opening.  Now I will see him tomorrow, instead of a week from tomorrow as originally set.  Cross your fingers and say a little prayer for us please!

I’m still not running and I’m not currently attending either of my yoga classes.  I am still working out with Kyle, but he’s been great about modifying my exercises so I’m not jarring my back or causing any more trauma to it.  I have taken up walking in place of my running.  Movement helps keep me sane, and I’m sure B appreciates my efforts to reel in the crazy.

I’ll try and post something a little more entertaining tomorrow, but sadly, I can make no promises.  Anyone else tired of these health updates?

Taking It All For Granted

On Wednesday I woke up with a super tight feeling on the soles of my feet.  By the time I made it out the door to start my run, my hips and legs were numb and tingling.  I ran anyway.  Because I’m an idiot.  Apparently.

By Thursday evening when I left work, the numbness and tingling had moved up to my waist and also included my forearms and hands, left side being worse.

When I awoke Friday morning, the numbness had spread to chest level and still included my forearms and hands.  I was sufficiently freaked out and terrified the sensation would keep creeping up my body.  So, I did what any other rational person would do, I got to my doctor’s office and camped out in the waiting room until I could be seen by someone, anyone.

The doctor I saw was nice enough, but not very helpful.  In fact, not helpful at all.  She could only guess that I pinched a nerve and was not inclined to do any testing to verify this.  She didn’t even touch my spine to see if anything was bulging, but she did listen to my breathing and check my thyroid size.  Yeah, I know.

I am not a doctor of any sort, but it seems to me that feeling of a person’s spine when they are nearly entirely numb and tingling isn’t a far-fetched thing to check.  I could be wrong, it’s been known to happen once in a blue moon.

Monday I spent most of my day fretting over this in classic, tear-filled girl fashion.  I also nagged that doctor’s office and a couple neurology departments around trying to get an appointment with a neurologist STAT.  I’ve got one for two weeks from now and am on their cancellation list.  I’m hoping some folks are miraculously healed and need to cancel their appointments.  Would be even better for me time-wise if I was miraculously healed too.

As far as taking things for granted goes?  Man, have I learned how much I do that!  Walking and feeling your legs rub together thereby guaranteeing you are not waddling; knowing that any part of your leg is touching your other leg; feeling the keys below your fingers on the keyboard (you’ll never know how incredibly long it took me to write this post); to pet your puppy dogs’ ears and know that they are soft but also feel that they are soft; and countless other sensations you just don’t think about enjoying just in the every day way of living.

Polly suggested that I take a break from running until I’m better or medically cleared to do so. Currently it looks like I have a two and a half week vacation from running.  And I’m not too thrilled about it, but I’d rather not do more damage out of pride.  It just isn’t worth it.

So, get out there and appreciate all those small things people and celebrate your little victories while you’re at it.

Runner’s World told me so

Did I mention that I was able to finagle our budget to include continued sessions with the personal trainer?  I’m so happy that I was able to make it work and B is super supportive too.  Dana will be joining me soon in the workouts, I hope.

After I completed last night’s session, Kyle had me work on some deep breathing techniques.  When I was done with those we went over nutrition, timing and then took my stats.  Stats as in hop on the scale at the end of the day, fully dressed, and soaked with sweat.  I was not thrilled by this timing and was less thrilled, though not at all shocked, with the number that popped up on the scale.  “They” say to add five pounds if you weigh at the end of the day or dressed and I was exactly five pounds heavier than I told Kyle I was.

Then came measurements.  If you think getting on the scale for someone is embarrassing, I recommend avoiding getting measured.  It’s a very awkward and vulnerable situation, even if you are fully dressed (which I was of course).  He measured my dominate arm and leg, chest, waist and hips. Ladies, is this not one of our worst nightmares??  B doesn’t even know the numbers that Kyle is privy to now.  And as far as I’m concerned, B will never know.  Some things can stay a mystery in a marriage. Am I right?

On the bright side (dripping with sarcasm here), I’ll be weighed every two weeks and be measured every four weeks.  I know this is necessary and I look forward to seeing my efforts.  But still… it’s awkward.

I joked when I was getting off the scale that I was going to need a drink after all that stuff.  And later, when we sat in his office going over all that helpful nutritional information and I had to basically confess to my craziness and food addiction, I just wanted to cry.  But I didn’t have a drink last night and I didn’t cry. There’s just no point.

Speaking of running – which we weren’t – on Saturday my pace was just over 10 minutes per mile.  Tuesday morning I went out for a run and was surprised by how slow I was.  Instead of hovering in the 10-10:30 minute mile where I usually reside, I was at an 11:45 minute mile.   My legs were heavy and I felt sluggish, but what else is new?  Today my run was a little better, clocking in at 11:08.  I’m not sure why I’m slower this week, but I’m looking forward to my old pace coming back to me.

Hopefully as I lose this extra fluff I’ll get faster too. Runner’s World says it’s true.  You lose extra weight, you get faster.  Crossing my fingers that the truth will set me free give me speed.