Morsels and Crumbs....

I always feel like I leave things incomplete on this blog. I hate loose ends. Although my life consists mainly of fragments, parts and incomplete thought processes, I hate dumping my rants out here and then not following up.

Here are a few tied-up ends... in the event you wondered. Which I'm sure you didn't.

--With all the hullabaloo I've made about my in-laws, I have spent the past few months taking proactive measures to create something called boundaries. As elementary as that seems to most people over the age of 15, it's new to me. My much-younger neighbor has slowly, over the course of a few bottles of wine consumed on my deck, offered me tutelage to the path of boundaries in my life. I really owe a whole life turn-around to her. I've decided that 14 years of boundaryless interactions with the people who spawned my husband, is enough and have purchased books--"workbooks" if you will-- for myself and Mr Hyphen to use as a tool. I'm currently working with another amazing woman who is striving to help me save my marriage from the clutches of somebody else's control. I'm hoping it'll be a more enjoyable holiday season with some new ground rules in place. Mr Hyphen is on board. He doesn't have much of a choice, does he? In the few short months, we've already come leaps and bounds from where we were. It makes me uber happy.


--I recently fell into the dark side of Facebook. I'll be honest and tell you that it had nothing to do with wanting to be on Facebook and more to do with the part where Mr Hyphen joined up and I hopped on and noticed that a few of his friends were attractive woman, who call him cute little nicknames. Presumably, women who are also pilots and his co-workers. He says none are his former girlfriends (why do I always type girlfiend??). So basically I was marking my territory... peeing on him, so to speak. Within 20 hours or so, I was really over it. I don't get it. Basically the few friends I have on FB, I've also got their email addresses and we're all on each other's Christmas card lists. So, when a college roommate writes on my wall "HOW ARE YOU?????", I'm thinking "Really? You've got my email address, and I haven't heard from you since last Christmas... are you really that concerned about my well being? Is it the equivalent of the cashier asking me how I am when I'm buying groceries?" Rhetoric. I don't get it. My very favorite part was when I chose the Married To category and selected Mr Hyphen, it said he'd have to confirm that we're in a relationship. Later that day he emailed me telling me he wondered what kind of trouble he'd get into if he ignored that request. Either way, we've both agreed that we won't post pictures of our kids' faces. I know--it's like being the equivalent of Wilson on Home Improvement, but it is what it is. I want the oohs and aaahs of the cuteness of my kids as much as the next mom, but I'm not willing to have people (even people I've "friended") doing who-knows-what with pictures of my kids. Oh, that and the whole FB owns the rights to photos posted on its site crap. Blah, blah, blah.




--In other news, FB has delivered irrefutable evidence that "the one that got away" actually got away because the Universe was saving me from myself. Although he, himself, would never in a million years use a computer and have a profile on FB, his lovely new wife is on FB and was kind enough to use a profile photo that shows them both. *raises face to the heavens and thanks all that is holy that he got away*


--Mr Hyphen has somehow wrangled himself a schedule for the month of November that has him oncall in the city of Denver. I KNOW! I'm not positive how it'll work out, but I think it means we'll see him more than a handful of hours each week. I'm pretty excited, actually. It means I'll have to rethink my grocery shopping again. And it'll mean a whole new drama at the beginning of December when he isn't around as much... again. But I'll take what I can get, because have I mentioned that absence has made my heart grown fonder? Um, a lot fonder.


--My gluten free lifestyle is having its good moments and its bad moments. I'm confused when I'm successful for several days, then out of nowhere my hands, and skin and eyes start to itch and I realize that I must have introduced something with gluten back in. The odd thing is that on Halloween, I partook in far too many Reece's Peanut Butter cups...and there was no itching of any kind. What gives? I eat things that I know aren't gluten free and there's no itching... I eat what I've declared gluten free (based on the 17 websites and email lists I'm referencing) and it sends me into an allergic reaction? Is it possible to be allergic to not consuming gluten? Yeah, probably not.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas....

I just took this photo out my kitchen window, looking at the snow that has been coming down for 2 days.

If I were brave, I'd run out and measure to tell you how much...but I'll just estimate it to be 14 or 15 inches ( if I recall the conversion from way back when, 14-15inches multiplied by 2.54 equals 35.6 - 38 centimeters...give or take).

It's been a perfect day. Wynnie is already out of school this week for Fall Break. Mr Hyphen is home. I've sipped hot coffee while watching Mr Hyphen run the snow blower through the neighborhood. Now I'm trying to figure out what the very best (gluten free!) comfort food for dinner would be.

Soon I'll bundle the kids up in their warmest snow gear and send them to the back yard with their sleds (hmmmm, where would the sleds be??? must figure that out soon)....

I wish this day would last a week.....

4 words that force you to change your life

I'm not a big fan of change. For me, a big change is rearranging the furniture. The resulting jolt of surprise every time I walk into a newly rearranged room is enough for me.


At this point in my life, I prefer safe and stable. I haven't even rearranged furniture in ages.


That being said, having my husband change jobs 3 times in 10 months and subsequently relocate to another state is enough "change" for me for a solid 10 years, thankyouverymuch.


Alas, the Universe has other things in mind.


Evidently, the Universe believes that I've been slacking and am in need of a little mid-life overhaul whether I'm on board or not.


At this week's Naturopath followup appointment, she inquired how my "week of going wheat free" had gone. I told her that the rye bread I'd eaten had made my eczema go crazy. She smiled and said:

You Are Gluten Intolerant

She also told me that the eczema I'd had since high school wasn't eczema at all, but a more complicated condition called Dermatitis Herpetiformis.


It actually explains a lot, really. It explains the things that thus far have been unexplainable. The inflammation. The autoimmune disorder. The chronic fatigue. The anemia. The inability to concentrate. So many things.



At this point, the Naturopath has given me as much leeway as I want regarding how gluten free I go or maintain. First she wants me to complete a week of no gluten, to prove to myself how great I'll feel. She believes I'll stop begging her to drink a pot of coffee every day if I stop the gluten. Heck, that in itself might be the catalyst that gets me through one week and then another.



Luckily, people who have gone or are going gluten free are everywhere. I know 4 bloggers off the top of my head who are gluten free. Also, it's no surprise, since Dr Voodoo has been on me for a while to get myself and my kids off gluten.


I left the Naturopath's office and headed straight for the health food store and picked up a book with some basic recipes, along with several baking mixes and gluten free breads and crackers. Months ago I joined an online gluten free club with tons of recipes available, but have never actually used the recipes.


Yesterday I pulled out the gobs of gluten free baking supplies that I already had on hand that I'd never used--because I'm a slacker. I baked some muffins that tasted like.....dog food.


This is going to take some work.


Did I mention I'm a picky eater? My brain and taste buds conspire against me and everything out of the ordinary sends signals that say something like "This tastes like dog food!! Must gag now!" And although I've never actually eaten dog food, it tastes like dog food smells and that's enough for me to want to gag.


I can already see that I'm going to be spending a lot of time in the kitchen this winter, trying different recipes... attempting to find bread, muffins, etc that I can make myself. That, in addition to almost everything in the grocery store having gluten added as fillers. It's a bit daunting, to be honest.


I'm hoping that my kids will find a few of the gluten free items palatable and will also want to partake in some gluten free living. Since I'm already known far and wide as the mom who doesn't want her kids to eat sugar, artificial sweeteners, high fructose corn syrup and food dye... I can't wait to add gluten to the list. People are gonna LOVE having my kids around!!


But until I can find my groove with this gluten free gig... what I'm positive has no gluten: Red Wine.

You bored? Come help Hyphen get a grip.

I've made very few bones about things that annoy me about my mother-in-law and father-in-law (I don't even have the energy to link to those posts).

The relationship I have with them is something that keeps me up at night, more often than I'd like to admit. I used to think they were genuinely naïve and just didn't "realize" they rub me the wrong way, but after hours in the therapist's chair, I know better. People in their mid-60s, who have owned and run numerous successful businesses are smart enough to read body language and know that their own actions and words affect other people.

This post isn't going to be a tirade about the latest and greatest in-law stories. I like to beat a dead horse as much as the next guy, but even I've got limits (well, this week anyway).

Here is where you come in. You all come from so many places and experiences that I want to solicit your thoughts. If you would humor me.

Oftentimes I have preconceived notions of how "life is" based on my own upbringing and I admit that many of those notions are just plain screwed up. The problem is that I don't KNOW how other people view certain things or how they would respond in similar situations. Obviously there are many people more level headed than I am.

I have a question (that is multipart... so sue me).

If you have parents-in-law, or did have at some point.... are there issues that you simply can NOT get past? Things that will forever be a bone of contention, or may come up every time you fight with your spouse?

Can you list your top few in-law issues? The things you absolutely WILL NEVER subject your children's spouses to, because it drives you nuts when it's done to you?

Or do you believe that your 40 year-old grown children and their spouses really would need you to continue to advise them, because they're just not smart enough to raise their children and live a fulfilling life without your constant control, manipulation and life-altering advice?

I'd love any and all thoughts you all have on this topic.

What eye twitch?

What a difference a week makes.....

Last week I had a faerie princess frolicking in the warm autumn sunshine.....









This week... snow.

Does anybody else smell that? What is that smell?

Seriously? The ENTIRE house to barf all over and you hit my sweater?


Never in a million years would I have realized this had happened to my sweater and bar stool, had I not been up to let the dog out in the wee hours of the morning.... because by daylight? It was gone!



Imagine when I'd have normally thrown on that sweater to run errands... I'd have been saying "What the HELL is that smell?"



Anybody want to take a stab at the symbolism the Universe is sending my way?

Finding Zen....

The past few weeks have been tough.



I don't mean that in a wah-wah sort of pity-me-I'm-overwhelmed way. I mean I've sat down half a dozen times to write a post attempting to convey something, anything, and I'm just empty.



I have a million things to say, and yet none of it is relevant to anybody but me.



Here are a few things on my plate lately that are taking all the brain power I've got:


-- The Armour thyroid debacle has taken my body weeks to recuperate from. I didn't realize how bad the haze was until it was gone. I lay awake at 3am, horrified about it all, yet wanting desperately to just put it behind me. I hope the extra poundage and the thinning hair (now growing back and looking like a lion's mane!) are the only residual effects. My new Naturopathic doctor is amazing. She and I have a plan for the support and rebuilding of my body and its "reserves". I'm so happy. I'm still exhausted, but that is due mostly to continuing to be extremely anemic. That leads me to bullet point number 2.




-- Next week, I'm having Endometrial Ablation done. I'm so fortunate that I finally threw my hands in the air and said "I cannot do this anymore." (I'll save you the details) During a pre-op appointment, an ultrasound found more than one mass in my uterus; most likely polyps or fibroids, but because of these little interlopers, it would have kept me extremely anemic for who-knows-how-long with their shenanigans. I'm very happy that I'm no longer in need of my uterus and that I was able to produce the two little bundles of screaming joy I have. As of next Thursday, the official Decommissioning and Mothballling of my uterus will be complete. I kind of feel like I should have celebrated my last period, but was unsure how best to do so... red beers? red wine? cotton candy?




-- This week, I narrowly dodged a $12000 bullet in the form of a sewer line replacement. It's a huge, long story that started with what we thought was a routine "backing up" of the sewer into the basement (and what's not to love about raw sewage in one's basement?) and ended with a plumber telling me last Friday afternoon, that I needed to dig out the ENtire 60 foot sewer line from my house to the street to avoid a complete flooding of my basement with raw sewage. I panicked, my husband out-of-town, and gave the go-ahead for a backhoe to be in my front yard first thing Tuesday morning to dig a 9 foot trench, 60 feet long. Luckily, over the weekend, Fishstick emailed some sense into me and I got a 2nd opinion first thing Monday morning. There is a man, named Rod, who works for the city water department, who took mercy on my pitiful soul and told me absolutely and without a doubt that my sewer line was fine, and it most surely had a tree root blocking it. He said all this without ever once looking at my sewer pipes. He even gave me the name of a plumber to call, and that plumber was at my house 2 hours later and fixed the problem, exactly as Rod had said he could. $300. I was so happy. I mean, SO HAPPY. I might have used up my happiness quota for an entire year! I made Mr Hyphen call the original plumber from the airport he was sitting at in Kansas and break the news that there would be no $12000 trench digging the next morning. Want to guess how upset they were? Want to guess how many people showed up at my house the next 2 mornings wanting to run line inspections and pour concrete? Luckily, Mr Hyphen was home to handle the backlash.




-- Wynnie's 6th birthday is this coming week. Her birthday party for 17 people is reserved at Chuck E Cheese for this Sunday (glutton for punishment?). Would it be at all surprising if I told you she has been home from school with a fever for 2 days? We'll see if the party happens. If not, I'll be at the 24-hour grocery store Saturday night buying a cake mix to bake up something pretty for the 4 of us to gobble up while she opens gifts, since her cake was part of the Chuck E package! UGH.




Eye twitch? What eye twitch?




I've come to a place where I realize I'm changing. I'm not sure how exactly, but I need to find my happy place. I thought I was in my happy place, but now realize I need an overhaul. My life needs an enema, if you will. The old crap that isn't working for me needs to go. I need to spend the next few months facing some things head on.


I don't know who I'll be on the flip side.



I hope it's not like when Fun Bobby became not-so-Fun Bobby.