Is The Red Tent Coming or What?

Oh lawd, I think Lil Lady's pre-menstral...are you kidding me? Either my oldest is about to get her period, or something else is making her act like a real turd lately. I'm not ready for this. Turn back the clock, I'm not equipped to handle a teenager yet.

Lil Lady and Chillgirl both have been at each others' throats and awful in general, but especially at bedtime. I know they are 8 and 12 and not 2 and 6 years old, but they are resistent to actually turning off the tvs and lights and laying down without wanting a snack, or my attention, or to mess with each other at their freaking bedtimes...its ridiculous that this most basic rule in my house has lately been broken so carelessly.

Most nights Chillgirl is lights out by 9:30pm, so exhausted she's out within minutes. Last few nights she was restless and up and down and wanting to come sleep with me, which is a BIG no-no, I don't care how cute she is. She already comes in nightly at 4-5am and crawls in while I'm comatose so I have a strict no-sleeping-with-mom-while-mom-is-aware policy and she pushed me the other night into yelling at her to go to her room and she began wailing at the top of her lungs until I had to close the door to ignore it. This is after 10pm it was still going on.

The very next night my pre-teen Lil Lady revolts at 10pm when I tell her lights out, yelling she wants to watch just a little more of her show. I'm adamant its already late, no way, lights out. She begins to wail and Chillgirl wakes up and starts her crap again and I'm again in my room with the door locked as to not kill them both.

Both girls assured me it wouldn't happen again when I told them they needed punishment and they sweet-talked me into getting to play outside for an hour while I ran. Call me Sucker Mom, but when they're good, they're really sweet and good and I fall for it every time.

But I did tell Lil Lady if she didn't shape up that night and the next morning (her attitude's been rude and borderline homicidal most days in general) she would NOT go to her friends' parties this holiday weekend. Told her she's on thin ice and she would NOT get to go. That night they played and came in and got ready for bed. Chillgirl's in her bed like she should be then 20 mins later its LL's turn but she started arguing how CG didn't go to bed exactly ontime and she shouldn't have to either. Told her she already had one bad night, she better just get in bed and not argue. More snotty comments and jabs later she's in bed and I'm in my room.

I hear CG moaning "Mom, she turned out the bathroom light!". I yell, "Go turn it back on"...I am NOT getting up for this BS...(sidenote: CG sleeps directly in front of the bathroom and wants the light on until she falls asleep, LL's room is to the side so the light isn't even on her directly and after CG is asleep she's allowed to turn it off)...

This is exhausting for me to write, so I know you are wiped out reading it...basically CG gets up and turns it on, LL gets up and turns it off. They are yelling to me each other is doing this and I tell them if I hear another word about it, I'll be in there to ground them both. So next I hear puh-puh-puh, footsteps, then door open, the puh-puh-puh, door close, and back and forth...on and on. Then they are silently fighting over having the bathroom door open or almost closed with the light on inside. Now it is past 10:30pm.

My blood is boiling....literally I can feel it rising, as in my blood pressure. I'm sitting there thinking, really girls? I REALLY don't want to ground you, but you REALLY are not leaving me a choice. REALLY I'd rather you just go to sleep and I can pretend you did it on time and not an hour later after passive-aggressively terrorizing each other. REALLY. Can you just STOP? I'm saying this to myself and getting more and more pissed because they are still messing with each other in there.

OK, no choice. I get up, and WAR ensues. I'm yelling, they're yelling blaming each other, and everyone's grounded. The dogs may even be grounded, I'm not sure. Friday night festivities GONE and threats of adding Saturday plans to the list of cancellations. Crying all around. Somewhere before midnight I turn off my light with sobs still echoing through the house. Put the lid on that day, I'm DONE.

The next morning there are I'm sorry's and please don't ground me's and I remember saying something to the effect of "I don't negotiate with terrorists". Pouts and sneers from Lil Lady go down swell with my morning coffee. She can't believe I won't let her go to the slumber party. I'm the meanest Mom ever. I am hateful and evil. At least Chillgirl has the common decency to stop while she's ahead and accept her punishment, but Lil Lady is relentless.

But I stand my ground. I will not be conquered. Its two against one but I'm still the Enforcer.

When puberty hits both girls full-force I will probably be close to menopause. Lord help us all.

Dammit...I have breast cancer.

That's how I feel about it. Cancer. Dammit. I couldn't really fathom what it feels like to know you have cancer so it was easy to decide I didn't. But when my doctor called me at 6:30pm on a Wednesday and left me a message to call him back, on his private number, I knew my world was about to change.

DCIS~ Ductal Carcinoma In Situ. It's the 4th one down on the picture. Only identifiable on a mammogram as those omnious white dots, or microcalcifications. I would never have known it without the mammo screening. As far as we know right now, it's within the milk ducts and contained only there. This is good. My doc says it's "the best kind of breast cancer to have"...I know, that's a strange thing to say, right? I read that DCIS is called Stage 0 breast cancer. That's reassuring to me.

Once identified as which ducts to remove, they are excised by lumpectomy (even though there is no lump really) and radiation over a number of weeks takes care of any remnants. That could be a pain in the butt, but it reduces my risk of reoccurence from 30% without radiation to less than 15% with it. I'll take the x-ray beam at my chest for 6 weeks for those odds.

So I have a handle on what I have and how we usually treat it. I am still having tests to see if there are any other surprises. An MRI today to look at the whole chest. Hoping that shows a normal result except for the expected diagnosed area. Hormone tests should show if I need ongoing hormone therapy, which my doctor thinks I will need for the next 5 years or so. Soon the surgery will be scheduled and I can get this show on the road.

Aside from normal worries about reoccurance and pain and suffering, I'm bummed this will change my summer plans. With my girls, with my cycling and tri buddies, with my boyfriend and the beach trip we wanted to take. It's a huge unknown at this point and anyone who knows me, knows I'm not good with plans up in the air. But for once, the not-knowing is a bit more attractive than the knowing. I'm assuming I know how this will play out but Bad Luck or Karma or whatever you wanna call it may reach It's mighty hand in and yank the rug out from under me again.

I pray I will be ready, and strong enough to charge ahead, and kick this thing in its Ass.

I am not alone...deal with it.

I have found myself in a really vunerable position recently and I'm not loving it. The calcification spots were back on my latest mammogram and the docs want to take a bigger chunk of my breast tissue to make sure they are still benign, like the slivers were they took 6 months ago.

Last summer I went through the first biopsy alone because I was awake the whole time, and even with bleeding from a hematoma after the procedure I went to the pharmacy to get supplies for doctoring the small incision, alone. I took care of my kids alone that night and got up alone the next morning and went to work.

This time I went to the follow-up mammogram alone, I went to the surgeon consult alone, and made the appointment for the new biopsy, alone. But I can't go to the biopsy alone this time. I will be under general anesthesia and of course I cannot drive home.

I hate anesthesia. Every time in my life I've had it I wake up nauseous and vomit. I'd rather be awake letting them talk to me while they poke and prod than go through the fuzzy, disoriented, sick effects of anesthesia. But my doctor said I'll be under. Pooey.

I'm set for the procedure on a Friday, so I have the weekend to recover. I'm not broadcasting on Facebook I'm having this done but the few people who know, thankfully want to help. Take me in the morning, bring me home, help with the kids and get dinner ready.

My only issue is I'm fiercely stubborn about showing weakness and asking for help. I seriously will probably just want to be left alone. If the anesthesia is making me sick, I will not want someone there to witness that. If I'm swollen or bruised I will want to crawl into bed and sleep it off.

I won't be down long either. I have a committment with one of the kids the next day, and will need to be up and making sure it all goes well. So in the interest of getting things done and not wearing myself out totally, I will have to let go of the reins with that and allow for my family to help.

I'm keeping positive about the biopsy results, since last time they were negative. So my stress with this day will be my physical condition after and my ability to deal with all the friendly help.

I'm used to being the boss-lady. So if I'm a bit crabby, don't hold it against me. And if I'm saying I'm fine, and asking if you can please just get out...

Get out.

Mean People Suck

I don't plan on being a bitter old lady. I won't live a full life only to be one of those cranky biddies who go around with a chip on my shoulder, looking to make others miserable. I have always adhered to the Golden Rule. It seems many people skipped Sunday School when they taught this rule. Tacks in the teacher's chair, laughing at the kid with the lisp, dreaming up evil ways to make an ex suffer... no, these things don't entertain me. But as a seasoned 40+ year old, I now accept the fact that some people are just plain ole MEAN.

I heard of a friend who is out of work, but his ex-wife wants to up the child support he's still paying her even though she's remarried and what he's paying for his one child is more than I get for my two.

I get to drive with idiots on Mopac who speed up to prevent me from merging or changing lanes and I've been saluted with the middle finger more than once for just trying to myself to work in one piece.

I know noncustodial parents who opt out of their weekend nights with their kids to party instead.

I have coworkers who don't try at all to provide the customer service that I feel is the bare minimum of our job description.

I've had customers who's goal for the day is to Make the Audiologist Cry. Not really because I wouldn't cry about work stuff, but you'd think these folks would laugh in my face if I did.

Does this kind of behavior serve some purpose? Do these people go to sleep with a clear conscience? Do they ever sit quietly at some point in their day and think that maybe they behaved badly? They may have been brought up without a higher being to answer possibly. Or with spiteful parents who showed them how to step on other people to make themselves feel better. How sad.

No matter. I can ignore these people and live my life with a clear mind and heart and try to make others smile.

And besides, I believe in KARMA. And she's a bitch.

Today, Right Now, I Love My Kids

Happiness is watching my two girls watching themselves on a VHS video filmed when they were 4 years and 6 months. They were so joyful and so loving with each other. Lil Lady was dancing and talking to me and trying to steal the show, and Chillgirl was quietly watching nearby, barely old enough to hold her little chubby body sitting up. Roles have not really reversed although now at age 8, Chillgirl will step up and defend herself when she really needs to be heard. That may make pre-teen LL yell louder, but we are kinda a yell-y family anyway. We all love each other and the shouting is three little women full of passion and strength as far as I'm concerned.

Lil Lady is growing up. I catch glimpses of her as she's doing her homework at her desk or gathering her things to go to the bus stop and she looks like a full-grown teenager. But then she'll be playing with her sister and younger kids and I breathe a sigh of relief that she's not in any rush. So far, she's somewhere in the middle of cultivating her teen attitude and holding tight to her Barbies and Build-A-Bears. Recently she was pointing out some boys before watching her middle school play: "I have crushes on him... and him... but my bff is going with that one until the end of the play and then she is breaking up with him. The other one says he isn't dating until 7th grade". It gave me major junior high flashbacks to hear her talk like that.



Chillgirl is my mini-me. She's got a competitive drive, walking around the house bumping a volleyball up and down. She's ready for a few more triathlons this summer and told me recently she wanted to eat what I eat, so she can be strong like me. I forever tout the need for healthy eating and getting the right nutrients like fiber and protein, and she knows the reasons behind it. I will have a lot in common with her as she gets older. This is nice because I have always been a bit of a blacksheep in my family when it comes to my sports activities.

So I have Artsy Spice and Sporty Spice. These are two sides of me and I am happy they are each happy with an outlet that I can be a part of. I'm a lucky Mom.

This 40+ year old's Take on Feast and Famine

I've been inspired by some other weight-loss blogs I read to talk a bit about how I as an over 40 year old view my own health and weight issues. I go about my days and nights quietly but constantly conscious of how much I've eaten for the day, how much I moved during the day, and how much I'll weigh on the scale the next morning.

As I lay here tonight with a growly stomach, I am at peace with the hollow noises buzzing around inside my intestines. It has taken a few days of not eating anything but water past 8pm to get comfortable with this feeling, but I know it is okay to feel it. The growlies don't mean my body is starving. I'd like to think they are sounds of my body processing my food from dinner, and settling a score with the juices and gases found in the nooks and crannies of my innards. It is nourishment finding a place to lay down for the night. Was that gross? Sorry.



This go around, I have been watching my food intake carefully for the last 5 days. My current plan is low-carb. That means stopping all my favorite comfort foods like breads, cereals (seriously I'm obsessed with a full cereal bowl, with milk and fruit mixed in), pasta, crackers (another obsession), and sugary sweets. I've done this plan many times before and it always works. Always. IF I stick to it. I really can't even eat fruit or have milk or other semi-sweet veggies like carrots or tomatoes. The sugar in them ruins the whole plan.

So 2 weeks of this will kill my carb-addiction (its a real thing, google it) and I won't be craving it anymore. Most low-carb plans instruct to re-introduce healthy carbs, like wheats and grains, back in after that time period. I may or may not, depending on the weight loss.

So I eat veggies, eggs, cheese, any meats or fish, and nuts. This time I've even added tofu, mushrooms, and bacon. I forgot how much I love bacon. But to eat even a little sugar or pasta or breads negates the plan and then I am just eating fatty foods with carbs and the weight will add ON. It WILL. So right now I am loving eating the full-fat meats and cheeses, and I will sacrifice the carbie stuff for now. But damn I miss those Wheat Thins!



There are many types of diets with no-carbs or low-carbs. Anyone can find one they can live with. Me, I've never been able to do a NO-carb diet, but found that low-carb plans, some even with a cheating period of time per day (see the Drs Heller Carbohydrate Addicts Diet), is doable for me. I can restrict only up to a point.

On the other side of the healthy coin, my working-out has saved me. It is the only reason my crazy diet changes over the years haven't ended up with me weighing 200 lbs. I know this because I weighed 200 lbs (+!) with both of my pregnancies and it was YES, because of what I was eating, but ALSO because I stopped exercising. Plain and simple. My chunky-monkey body MUST have exercise or else it will balloon out. I call my body chunky because it is. I know I will always have curves and I will always have muscles. At my thinnest, in high school, I had both and even though I thought I wasn't skinny enough, in pictures I was an adorable size. That was about 30 lbs lighter than I am now. Thirty pounds! Damn this aging. Not cool.

I get bored easily so I am a triathlete. I can train for a race by running, cycling, or swimming...or swim-cycling, or cycle-running, or swim-running. I sneak my short exercises in whenever I can. Being a single mom with two active girls, I do get creative. In the summer they swim and play at the neighborhood pool and I'm doing laps. I run with Lucy the dog because she needs it too. Sometimes the girls will ride their bikes while I run. I ride on my off weekends when they are with their dad. If I can't I suck it up and get on my bike trainer indoors while I'm watching The Biggest Loser or Top Chef. I get it done. It is part of my life without fail. Even a walk with my iPod keeps my mind centered and my heart pumping. Anyone who is trying to lose weight who doesn't make a workout plan is not going to stay healthy. You can actually still eat some things you like if you make yourself exercise the bad parts of that yummy food away. Bonus!



Anyone who says weight is just a number is not overweight or has given up on a healthy weight. My number is part of my every morning routine. It regulates my mood and my eating patterns. If I ignored it and threw out my scale I could easily convince myself I was doing fine. That my pants must've shrunk in the wash. That I needed new clothes anyway. That there must be something going around making me feel sick. That I just needed to lay down or nap and I'd feel better. I could ignore that number and hope that I will say "enough" when my tummy tells me it's full. I would hope I noticed the button on my pants leaving a mark on my skin. I hope I'd recognize the lethargy and get off the couch to go for a run.



But I choose to look at that number every morning before my shower every day to know I am following the guidelines I've set up for myself. To know if I should bring a salad to work today. To know I should make time to hit the gym tonight. To know I need to get an extra half hour of sleep. It's my body and I don't need it to be at the bottom of my "healthy weight" range, or even in the range, but I've lived with this body for 40 years and I KNOW when it's healthy. The number gives me a concrete standard to adhere to. It is what works for me.

2011...And We're Off!

I just re-read my last post and realized it was all about MEN, past and present.

That's all well and good, but I did have other revelations in the past year and hopefully in this new year that do NOT involved my relationship with a man. Geez-louise, I know I have more going on that that, and so now, dag-nabbit, I'm going to reflect on it.

My work has steadily become more dissatisfying. I'm not sure why this is how I suddenly feel now, but I think I will have to make a change in the coming years. I have put in 16 years with my company and feel I'm doing the same job I've always done for the same rewards and pay and lack of recognition as I have for many of those years, and it isn't fulfilling anymore. 2010 was a difficult year from start to finish. The recession finally caught up with our industry and people are scraping to replace their hearing aids with cheaper models and expecting more free services than ever before. I leave the office feeling used and abused by my clients many days, and do not have enough of the feel-good days in any given month. This sucks but it is a job and it pays the bills and is all I have right now, so I will put up and shut up for now.

I'm not worried, I do have in mind other related jobs I'd like to pursue in the future if money weren't the only issue. I have many contacts in this town and will make sure the right people know my value. It is ok to recognize my grumblings and lay some plans out to help myself down the line. I'm at peace with where I am with this now.

My kids are both in a good place after getting through 2010. Their ages are good for self-sufficiency and independence, but they still both love me and being with me. I know I have only a short time, maybe months, left with Lil Lady being my little girl before she decides Mom is a disease and won't come near me. She is already so sensitive to everything anyone says to her, as if the world is out to get her. This only applies to her immediate family as far as I know. At school things seem to be going well, socially and grades-wise. We argue about homework and studying for tests. She likes to perform with the least possible effort to get a "passing" grade. Aiyiyiyi...who's child is this? Extra Credit was my middle name in school. I loved trying to get the highest grade in class, while she is pretty damn proud of herself when she doesn't get the lowest. We have come a long way in my dealing with this attitude, but I must do better in this new year to not put too much pressure on a child who is perfectly happy being middle of the pack.

Chillgirl seems to be a bit more like me, competitive and willing to put forth more effort to do better. She lamented to me in a sad little voice recently that her teacher never gives her a "blue" on her behavior chart. I said but you always get greens, and green is the best. She said no, blues are even better for extra good behavior. I said what do you have to do to get a blue? She said I don't knooooow, all whiney. I said well you better ask your teacher what you can do to get a blue. She went and did just that. Her schoolwork, although it is only 2nd grade, seems effortless too. She gets good grades on worksheets and she likes to read an age-appropriate chapter book cover to cover to herself and actually come tell me about the story. I'm holding my breath on her, hoping she'll be a "mini-me" and blaze easily through the coming years. I have a feeling I'll need all my efforts and attention saved up for her sister.

The girls get along with each other and know when Momma's had enough and they usually get in line when needed. Being a single parent can really stink sometimes because they know I am tired. They know what things they can wear me down on. I hate giving in but I choose my battles to preserve my sanity. I'd love for them to be sympathetic to my tiredness and give me a break. And of course I worry. I worry about everything with them.

My worry about the kids is normal, I know. All parents worry, right? But I regret putting divorce in their lives and handing them the higher percentage chance of having relationship issues within the future-- distrusting adults, or being unsure about men or marriage. They have limited time with their father and that worries me. It is not my choice that he doesn’t see them as much as he should, but it is my fault for having him move out and divorcing him. That was all me. Saying that, I still try not to hold onto all the blame because he did have fault in our split, but ultimately I bear the responsibility for making my children go through many days not seeing their dad.

They seem to be fine. They are healthy, confident and well-behaved most of the time, and they have friends and good social skills. I am proud of them both, but I will still always be a worrier.

Job, kids…check. And now back to ME. I have spent the last year getting my heart in order and trying to keep myself healthy and happy too. I still have my days when things seem not quite good enough, or I want more and despair at not having a way of getting it NOW, but those days are few and most likely related to some hormonal rollercoaster going on inside of me in conjunction with the current moon-cycle. On the other days, I take advantage of every spare minute to find a mentally clean place to go. Staying involved at Church to remind myself of the importance of my actions and contemplate why we are all here. Taking care of my body with cycling, running, or swimming, either alone or with my tri-buddies-- my go-to choices for a physical release of pent up stress. I enter races or rides to give me that motivational tool and deadline to keep my head in exercise mode. The annual ski vacations and trips to visit family or friends are vital for my sanity. And chiropractic, massage, and hair/nail appointments are the other ways of being nice to me.

I expect to continue on as I have been in this New Year. I don’t know what else I can do. This is the path I have chosen for myself and my girls and we do pretty well. The two of them will lead me in new areas as they grow and have new doors opened for themselves. I am enjoying the stage we are at right now.

I love my little life.