LIES!!!!

i nearly fist fought my scale today....

there are 2 specific tiles that i put the scale on, so that the weight will remain the same everyday, well i mean so that it will be accurate....

or so i thought....

it's been right around the 140-144 mark for a while, until a few days ago, it was 137.8 lbs.

WOO HOO, right?!

i'd cut back from a venti starbucks, to a tall starbucks, which (i think) cut my calories in half....

i thought this was working!

today....

stepped on scale and it went back and forth and finally read 140.6.

i picked it up and put it back down, so it zero'd out and stepped on again (the same 2 tiles)....

it went back and forth and settled at 144.6.

HOW, in LESS THAN A MINUTE, did i gain 4 lbs?!?!

NONSENSE i tell you!!!!

NONSENSE!!!!

i wanted to throw TAYLOR across the room.

no not my daughter, TAYLOR is my scale, or the name of the company who made my scale, at least....

i'm not entirely sure i trust her anymore....

pssssh.

four play.... for play.... foreplay....

FOUR PLAY: last night, all four of us went to dinner. (Jason, Taylor, Lewie and myself) We joked around the table, ate a really good meal and got good use out of ONE of the MANY gift cards we have been stashing in our underwear drawers for quite some time now. (do not break in to our home and try to steal our gift cards from our underwear drawer, because I have since moved them since this post). ;) I held Lewie while trying to eat my "street style mini steak tacos" and everytime I'd put the food to my mouth, Lewie would open his mouth too and lean his face in to my taco.... so i ended up letting him munch on 2 pieces of steak and a grilled onion.... gave him some of my ice water and lemon, and we all enjoyed the heck out of watching him enjoy "real" food.... too much fun....

FOR PLAY: Jason and taylor go on and on about how grumpy mom is (not me, some other mom).... that's "for play." Jason throws a sweater across the room and it lands on Lewie's head and covers his eyes. He cannot see and begins to grunt. (that's "for play").... I hear Lewie crying in the middle of the night, and continue to snore and drool and act like I am sleeping so that jason will get up and help Lewie get settled back into some slumber.... that is "for play."

which leads me in to my next example of "foreplay."

you ask a man his definition of "foreplay" and he'll give you something that might make you really uncomfortable (or really comfortable if you're a freak), depending on who you are.... you ask a woman her definition of the word, and it's (usually) entirely different!

So we get to talking last night, and i think there is a HUGE difference and understanding that men and women need to come to.....

MEN.... our idea of this definition is usually mental on some level, and although you THINK we are mental, i'm not referring to that kind of mental. Our closeness (usually) comes from feeling close to our husbands on that level. Good conversation about all sorts of different stuff, all night, can lead to me feeling close to my husband. A nice massage, or noticing a few things I've done.... that's nice.... noticing that when you left for work this morning and the house was a complete disaster and that when you came home, the house was much cleaner, the floors were vacuumed, the laundry done and the bed is made.... noticing that, is nice (you don't need to go overboard, just a little mention and/or appreciation....) that's nice.... suggesting a date night.... that's nice.... being in a good mood, while doing something you both really don't want to do, like cleaning the house (see movie "The Break Up" for example) .... that's nice too.... i can go on and on.... it's these super goober-tastic things that can REALLY make a woman feel nice and WANT to be close to you in the ways that YOU probably want to be close to her....

WOMEN.... i don't know where to help you here... i'm still working on this one myself. haha. Men are (usually) more playful than the women.... not always, but usually.... our definitions of the word are so incredibly different, that i DO understand why many people end up sleeping with their backs to each other.... their wants are ENTIRELY different (usually)....

so jason and i played this game last night (and i had SO much fun with my husband, not in that way, you perv!).... we were straightening the house together, when he picks up my starbucks cup and takes it to the kitchen.... "is this foreplay, honey?" he asks as he rinses it out and throws it away.... this game goes on all night, and we are laughing hysterically at some of the things the other one is doing....

just brought me to some odd conclusion (and a great idea that i'm not entirely convinced i know how to communicate comfortably yet), that our ideas of "closeness" are entirely different.... we both have some bending to do to bring the other one in....

the main point of this blog...is no, not to seduce men by ANY means.... (and i'm sure i haven't done that at ALL, haha) but the main point is, "men.... just step up your game for your wives...."

(jason's got it down now).... that's right.... clean out that cup, shake your tail while vacuuming, put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket... squeegy (sp?) down that shower.... uh huh, you've got it! do your thang boy!!!

this makes for some VERY happy women....

drama bugs.

so last week, taylor comes home on wednesday and says, "mom. i want to join the drama bugs."

(note: "drama bugs" is an afterschool program similar to that of "drama club" in high school, only the kids are a lot smaller and this program costs a lot of money.)

i had just received an email earlier that day so I knew what the drama bugs were, and i knew that the next "session" was accepting new students into it and that the money was due by friday (which gave me 2 days to come up with that "extra" money).... i knew that they practiced for 10 weeks and that in May they would perform 2 shows for their family and friends. i knew that much.

so when she tells me this, i asked "what's drama bugs?"

she shrugs her shoulders.

me: "well then why do you want to join if you have no idea what it is?"

taylor: "well, i know that the drama bugs performed the polar express and it was AAAAAA-mazing mom!!! you should have seen it, and.... well.... i just want to do that too."

i (being the crazy obsessive, talk-you-out-of-anything-before-you-even-do-it, kind of person that apparently i am) say "the drama bugs is an acting class that meets for 10 weeks on either mondays or tuesdays for an hour and a half. after the ten weeks is up you will put on a show that your friends and family can come watch. it sounds like it'll be a lot of fun, but it's also a lot of money, so if you are going to join this, then you have to finish it. that means all 10 classes. you can't just go to the first class, decide you don't want to do it and then quit. if you don't like it, then you'll finish your 10 classes and after that we won't sign you up for the next time, and you'll have learned something that you don't like, and maybe in a few years you can give it another shot, but you aren't going to just go to one class and then quit. it costs too much for that, and besides you've got to learn what commitment is all about."

okay, so at the time i thought i was making a good point and teaching a good lesson....

and then i went and saw my therapist.

HOLY COW! when i look back on our conversation now, i'm amazed she didn't just start crying and throw up and tell me she never wants to do anything ever!!!! poor taylor!!!!! i am BRUTALLY HARD ON HER!!!! she's SEVEN YEARS OLD!!!! i need to let her be a kid.... let her try something, and have the confidence going in to it.... and IF she decided that she didn't like it after 1 or 2 weeks, THEN i could have talked to her at THAT time and told her that the class cost a lot of money and that she'd better march her behind RIGHT back into that class and work her butt off or i'd never ever pay for her to join another group ever again in her entire life.... okay, so i'm totally kidding. (calm down, mom). no, then at THAT time i could have told her that i would really like her to finish the class. it would mean a lot to me, (and to her eventually) if she'd finish the class that i paid all of my last pennies for (okay, totally kidding again).... i'm not entirely sure what i'd say, but i'd say something that was really comforting and sympathetic to a 7 yr old, because that's what i'm working on....

so although i don't know what i'd say, just know that it would be something nice.... er, nicer than how i've been before. i'm not MEAN, i'm just not the most sympathetic person ever.

and well, i guess that having a child when you are 19, you are still learning as you go. heck being a mom at 26 for the second time, i am STILL learning as i go....

anyway....

needless to say, taylor went to drama bugs.

she brought home a script.

next week she's bringing home a cd (with all the music on it), and so far so good.

she loved it.

i hope she keeps it up.

this could be good....

"mom, i don't think i have sad emotions."

that's what she said to me this afternoon....

i'm sitting here watching her paint.

so far she's painted a very colorful rainbow picture (inspired by van gogh, she told me), 3 hearts, one inside the other, a starbucks drink (for me), and Batman (my parent's cat who is now in kitty heaven)....

she is painting the picture of batman, and she keeps looking at a picture of him up on the mantle. she doesn't know i'm watching her, but i am observing.

she says to herself: "that's my batty boy," as she's looking up at the picture....

my computer is to her right and i'm facing her, so if i lifted my eyes just over the top of my computer screen, i can see her face.

she says "mom. i don't think i have that emotion."

i look up over my computer screen.

me: "what emotion?"

taylor: "the sad ones."

me: "why do you think you don't have sad emotions?"

taylor: "because.... i don't cry when i'm sad. nana and poppa cried when batty died. I didn't. when pappy passed away, i didn't cry. you did... a lot. i just don't cry when i'm sad."

me: "i know a time you cried when you were sad. when your dad came back from Iraq."

taylor: "yeah but those were tears of joy."

me: "i know another time you cried.... when Matt Girard went home on American Idol."

taylor: "yeah but that doesn't really count for much, because i don't really cry a lot. you can't prove anything."

what? what does that even mean? lol.

i wonder if i've somehow scared her into not crying.

the way i often remember my father scaring me into not crying over stuff....

i remember him telling me he was going to spank me when i was crying because i opened a collector's tin of crayons. i proceeded to cry, but with my face hanging and wiping the tears before they could run down my cheeks.

i don't hit taylor.

i don't need to.

have i threatened to hit her?

i have, but i think she knew i was full of it.

because i really couldn't tell you the last time i spanked her butt.

i think preschool.... one morning when she wasn't doing what i asked her to, and that was the one and only time she told me that she didn't love me.

broke my heart....

anyway, i totally got off track, just like i always do, and the whole point was me wondering why my 7 year old daughter thinks that she doesn't have "sad emotions."

that makes me sad.

maybe she doesn't have sad emotions because i have enough of them for her.

or because i've brought things into her life and then taken them out (for the better, of course, but still damaging none-the-less....)

and to be entirely honest, she doesn't get a whole lot of sympathy from me.

which brings me to another issue about myself and why i am able to comfort complete strangers much better than I am able to with my own daughter.

i think i have such high expectations for her.

i think she's a lot stronger than maybe she really is?

i don't know.

i guess that'll be for me and my therapist to discuss.

anyway....

i just thought i'd share (yet another moment of my weak parenting moments)....

i am determined to make this better....

even if it takes all of my money going to both her cuss bucket and my therapy.

dreaded topic in our household: money.

i hate the topic.

i can spend it like no other,

but i HATE the topic.

hate it with a passion.

i married a saver (which is awesome)

he married a spender (which is unawesome).

BUT, i can say that i have become SO much better....

so much better that I have even started a budget on iWork.

i started filling in all the dollar amounts last night, because he really has no interest in this whatsoever....

i am filling this in and realizing, how EXPENSIVE life is....

you really just don't realize how much money everything costs... (or where you spend it)

you just spend it as needed (or in my case, as wanted), and it's *poof* gone, never to be seen again....

ugh.

i dread the topic.

i do.

and this is one thing, that, until there is a strict budget we are working off of, (or i learn to control my emotions), it'll always upset me....

we have a good idea....

but as for now, that's what it remains...

an idea...

money.

ugh.....

cuss bucket.

okay, so i'm a bad mom.

i'm guilty and.... well.... a bad mom.

sometimes i use words, I very well shouldn't, and sometimes i do it around Taylor without even realizing it....

that makes me a horrible mom.

i know.

shame me later. (just not now)

jason, on the other hand, is VERY good about not using such words around the kids.

and then last night, he said something while we were driving home.

i said, "JASON!"

Taylor says, "Mom! YOU say bad words!"

I proceeded to argue that I do not!

she says, "YES YOU DO!!!!"

(then i feel like crud).

she says, "you should put a quarter in my piggy bank everytime you say a bad word."

i didn't say a word.

she then turns to jason and says, "dad, that'd be so cool. i'd have a car before i could even drive."

buuuuuuuurnnnnn!!!!!

bed B

bed A was closest to the door, and the first patient i'd see. i pulled his curtain back.

he was the very first patient i'd take vitals on, alone.

there was no one to oversee me.

i remember trying to swallow a lump in my throat when i pulled the curtain back.

he looked just.

like.

my.

dad.

he had lung cancer.

he wasn't very positive about it.

told me it was going to take his life.

i told him about my dad.

my dad was still alive at the time,

and he wasn't doing poorly either.

in fact, he was fighting it.

he was clean of cancer at the time,

or so they thought.

or at least that's what i told bed A.

i remember holding his thin wrist in my hand for 60 whole seconds,

because that's what i did.

i wanted to make sure i didn't just round up or down.

i wanted to give the correct pulse.

after all, i was charting now.

and i didn't have any one else's initials beside the vitals, but mine.

his vitals were good, in fact they were great.

he was just so negative.

i remember while holding his wrist, bed B's life changed.... forever.....

those 60 seconds changed bed B's life (and mine) forever....

the dr walked in while i was with bed A.

he pulled the curtain back for bed B and i could hear every.... single... word being spoken.

dr said. "mr littlejohn, the results are in. there is cancer in your liver and your pancreas. it is inoperable, but we will be referring you to another...." that was all i'd heard from the dr.... i was still trying to count A's pulse.

i heard mr. littlejohn ask, "what does that mean? how long do i have? dr, will i make it to my next birthday?"

i swallowed.

and then swallowed again.

i was still counting the beats in A's wrist.

dr: "patients with cancer in their liver and pancreas, have anywhere from 6 to 12 months."

mr littlejohn: "but will i make it to my next birthday?"

dr: "unfortunately mr littlejohn, there's no way to tell that. i'll be back in later on today to discuss further options with you and your family."

the dr walked out....

how was i supposed to go over there and take his vitals? REALLY?! i am supposed to go over there and say what?

"um hi, i know you just found out that you're terminal, but can i go ahead and take your temperature and blood pressure?"

yeah, that wasn't going to happen, but my legs (and heart) for whatever reason, still felt compelled enough to walk the rest of my body over there.

i left the machine outside his curtain.

i wasn't going to do that to him.

i pulled his curtain back.

introduced myself as taking care of him for the day.

i walked over to him and he just looked at me, with tears in his eyes.

i just looked at him, and there were NO other words exchanged.

i just leaned in and hugged him

and he reached up and just hugged me back, and began weeping on my shoulder.

yes, he was sobbing.

and through the tears and the sniffles, he asked, "how am i going to tell my wife and my daughter? i can't call them and tell them. will you call them?"

my brain automatically FREAKS!!!! "what? me? call them? what the hell am iiii supposed to say?! i don't know them!"

but i swallowed. i said, "sure. what would you like me to say?"

he said, "i don't know."

i said, "why don't we ask them to come in and we can call for the dr when they are here, and the doctor can help you tell them."

that was our best bet.

he agreed.

and that's what i did.

he couldn't even take the phone to talk to his wife.

but she came.

she came and we called the dr and the dr came back and broke the horrible news to his wife.

they cried together.

they called in their daughter, and near the end of my shift, mr littlejohn's entire family was there.

how quickly his room filled with people who loved him dearly.

children, and grandchildren came.

sisters, brothers.

it was amazing....

(poor A, he couldn't rest that day)....

i was off the next day, but when i came back the day after, mr littlejohn had gone home.

he left the hospital, to go home and pass peacefully.

that was what he decided.

he didn't want his last time alive to be spent miserably....

i prayed that he would make it to his next birthday.

i never got to say goodbye.

i thought for sure he'd be there when i got back.

----------

2 months later, i'd been floated to another floor.

i saw his dr.

i asked "hey dr! whatever happened to mr littlejohn. he'd left on my day off, and i was sad i didn't get to say goodbye."

he'd told me, "he went home. he went home and passed away 5 days later...."

WHAT?!

my mind went a million miles a minute....

FIVE DAYS LATER?!

"but you'd said 6 to 12 months.... how misleading....." (i didn't say that, but i did think it)....

i am glad he went home.

i am glad he'd had all his family there that day....

even though mr A didn't get any rest that day,

dear sweet mr littlejohn had his family surround him just days before he passed.

i wonder if he knew he wasn't going to make it much longer....

i really wonder if he knew....

what would you do if you got a call that your spouse (or anyone you care about for that matter) only had 5 days left to live?....

everyone thinks they live each day like it's their last, but i promise you, you don't.

you may think you do, but you don't.

yesterday, i'd stumbled across this lady's blog... she had started it just 1 month before her husband passed away tragically and untimely. he died at work. in a work related accident. it TURNED my stomach, and i probably shouldn't have read it, but i couldn't stop.

i thought about jason, and if he were to just not come home one night.

i am not entirely sure i'd be able to go on.....

i have made every attempt to tell him and SHOW him daily how much i love, adore and appreciate him and all his hard work....

what have you done lately?

again, people, i know it's like me beating a dead horse.

i say it all the time.

hold on tightly and lovingly to the ones you love most....

they aren't going to be here forever.

so long mr littlejohn.

i will forever remember your embrace and your tears....

but even more than that i'll remember your strength.

you held it together for your wife and your family SO amazingly well....

i will forever remember you....