Fear of Sutures

“How is your incision site?” My husband asks about 2 weeks after I had a C-section with our only daughter.

“Not sure, I haven’t looked at it”. I was 100% honest because I was too tired to lie. Also too tired to lie about having put on the ointment he gave me. I hadn’t been doing anything he recommended. I didn’t check it and it was my own body.

Rylan is 3 years old now. Her cat (Reba) is now 12 weeks roughly. I thought we’d celebrate her 12 weeks of life by taking her to the vet and getting her fixed. Happy Valentines Day!

My mom is amazing and kept Rylan over night on Valentines Day for us. We appreciated that mostly because I had to get the cat from the vet and wasn’t sure how Rylan would react to her being all drugged up and having her stomach cut open.

Through this I have realized something about myself. I am freaked out by stitches and open wounds and surgery.

It’s not going under that scares me. Its not that the blood although that could be part of it.

While driving home with the drugged up kitty I realized that I was scared her insides were going to fall out. I’m aware this is extremely irrational. But that was my fear driving home. We were going to hit a huge pot hole or I’d turn too sharp (I’m not a very good driver) and she would go flying, hit her cage and the whole wound would open up and she would die.

Same thing when the dog got spayed and even when I had my C-section. The thought that this cut was recently opened so a doctor could play with my organs is just too much for me. I don’t want to touch it. I’m scared of infection, I’m scared it will hurt to touch it, I’m scared that if I touch it its going to pop open and start some sort of zombie take over.

So facing my fears today I went to check on the cat. By myself. Sober. She was asleep comfortably on her little bed that she normally attacks and purred when I pet her. I tried to gently roll her over and when she resisted I thought “well I tried”. Gave her a kiss and went back to work.

Thanks to Reba I’ve realized a new fear I wasn’t fully aware that I had. Awesome.

104 Degree Panic Attack

“Where the thermometer? I think she has a fever!” I yell to Pat as I’m changing Rylans diaper.

“She doesn’t have a fever we just checked it an hour ago” Pat rolls his eyes as he hands me the thermometer.

I love that he can roll his eyes while doing what I want. No matter how ridiculous he always humors me.

That was a little less than 3 years ago. Every new mother has a thing. For me her thing was her temperature. I can feel the judgment from here, yes I’m sure I had more than one thing but at this point the fever was my biggest obsession.

I took her temp constantly and was always worried about her having a fever. She ran super hot all the time. Mainly at night and that hasn’t gone away. I’ve just learned that if I have to question if there’s a fever or not… there’s not.

Which brings me to this past 2 weeks ago. She woke up crying and when I picked her up there was no doubt she had a fever. We snuggled on the couch and she was so warm I considered turning on the AC.

I took her temp and as expected it was 102. It ranged from 100 to 104 for the next two days. I know I should have taken her to the ER right away but I work in a medical office I know how this goes. It’s a virus and there’s nothing they can do but alternate Tylenol and Motrin and keep her cool and do baths…yadda yadda yadda. So that’s what we did.

Come Thursday morning her temp had started to go down on its own but we made an apt for her anyway. Turns out it was a double ear infection! One of which had possibly ruptured! Awesome job mom.

Nothing makes you feel like a worse mother than NOT taking her to the doctor, only to find out she has a ruptured ear drum. I will no longer question whether or not to take her in. If I’m thinking about I’m doing it. Bring on the hypochondriac comments I’ll take the punch.

My 3 year old sassy pants did not even complain this whole time. The same kid who threw herself on the ground and screamed because I tried to put the wrong pants on her never once mentioned that her ears hurt. That’s the only thing saving me from really believing I’m a terrible mom.

Not even a week after this happened she’s feeling better and wanting to read stories before bed time again. We were reading the book “The Sleep Fairy”. To whoever bought that book for me I think you owe me money for it. Who busy a book as a present that makes the parents buy their children presents every night they sleep in their bed by themselves? We are on a budget! I’d rather her sleep in bed with me!

Luckily for me my kid is a little weird and after listening to the whole story cuddled in to me very concerned. She put the book down and said “mama, if the sleep fairy tries to come in my room and put something under my pillow while I’m sleeping….I’m going to scream.”

I’ve never been more proud! Glad she’s feeling better and back to being feisty. Next time we are going to the doctor. Then I’ll buy her a present!

Nothing To Say Really..

It’s freezing. Not raining just freaking cold. Which is super annoying because I have been waiting for rain. I have the rain boots. I have a jacket (although I think I need a new one since my mom informed me this one is not cute). I have an umbrella, even though it’s not a yellow one to make me happy thinking of How I Met Your Mother every time I use it. There’s the perfect gift for me! In case anyone was wondering.

But no rain! I can’t handle another drought so everyone please do your rain dance or help me get a ticket to Seattle because mama needs some hard-core, reading by the fire, pointless to do your hair, makeup running, moving kissing, RAIN!

On the bright side it’s almost CHRISTMAS!!!! I am that super annoying person who started my shopping early and felt super good about myself until last night when I looked under my tree and didn’t feel like I had gotten nearly enough for everyone. That’s what happens when you are on top of it. You get it done early and forget what you got!

Oh well it happens. This year I’m just happy to be spending time with my family. We alternate years and this year its Christmas eve with my side at Nana’s. Rylan is super excited that Santa is coming but she’s a little nervous about him coming in our house while we are sleeping.

My weird little 3-year-old concerned about a strange man in our house. I’m not sure whether I should be proud or judgmental of my parenting and making her paranoid. I’m going to split it down the middle and say its just funny!

She has only asked for a sit n spin. That’s it. That’s all she wanted.

Meanwhile she has room full of toys. Both ones she uses and ones she refuses to let us get rid of. We try to smuggle them out when she’s not looking but she has her dads weirdo talent of being able to notice small stupid things that get me in trouble. “That’s a new shirt” No it’s not I’ve had this. “No you just got that I’ve never seen it before”. Thanks hubby. Next time can we just do a cute little dance and pretend you don’t notice when I get new things and I can pretend to be sneaky like I’m getting away with it? You know, like a normal couple!

Anyway! This weekend my goal is to talk Rylan into giving away unused toys. I want to teach her to donate them and share with kids who need it more. This is how I see it going in my head. We get a few bags and she helps me put toys in that she is okay giving away and we donate them together.

Here’s what will actually happen. She will scream bloody murder that she plays with everything and we can’t get rid of anything. I will get mad and take her to my moms and then get rid of everything that annoys me that I know she doesn’t play with. She will come home and want to know where the tiny part of the broken toy she doesn’t use is. She suddenly needs it.

But I don’t care because she’s going to get all kinds of presents and needs to learn how to appreciate the things she gets/has. I always knew that we were so blessed I should really ask my mom how she did that. Good job mom!

Other than that I haven’t posted in a while. Getting ready for Christmas and recovering from Body Combat training has taken up most of my time. Also recovering from my traumatic spider incident. See previous post for that disaster.

So cheers to everyone I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!

 

 

 

 

Spider Fiasco

I don’t like spiders. AT ALL. They are creepy and unpredictable and anything with that many legs has an agenda that I don’t want anywhere near me! Don’t even get me started on the eyes and the hairy ones.

It started as a wonderful Saturday morning. Pat had to work and Rylan woke up at 6 only to get back in bed with me and snuggle till 7. Ah the peaceful snuggle that comes from not knowing there is a massive spider on the wall across the room staring at you. Those were the days.

We woke up and saw the spider and I freaked! First of all this thing was the size of my fist. If Rylan says it wasn’t, remember she’s 3 and she lies. I texted Pat a picture and he called right away to tell me to kill it.

Ummm no. Not going to happen. Pat told me to get a stool and hit it with a shoe. Heck no I’m not getting that close to it. Then he told me to get the swiffer and hit it with that. Did you not hear me say how big it is? It needs to die not just get poked and angry. He still told me to “man up and kill it already”.  Then asked what I planned to do if it got away and was just living in the house with us.

I started crying. No I’m not pregnant I’m just that terrified of spiders. Especially ones that could eat other insects! (Okay that one could be a slight exaggeration)

I called my dad and when he didn’t answer I called my Grandpa. That’s right! My grandpa drove 20 minutes to come kill a spider for me.

He got to my house and I had my sweatpants tucked into my tallest Ugg boots and a sweatshirt with the hood on tied so you could only see my eyes. I had to keep an eye on it so it didn’t get away. I had one foot on the window seal and one on the bed and was holding the biggest Emily Post book ever made ready to throw it at the spider if I had to. Meanwhile Rylan is in the living room watching her show singing “itsy bitsy spider” thanks kid. Thanks a lot.

The spider had crawled behind the tv on the shelf and was in a pile of my other books. Papa started pulling them out and the real life Halloween decoration fell on the floor. Papa jumped, I screamed and threw the book on the evil little thing!

If something is big enough that it crunches when hit with a big book I don’t want any part of it!

So with the help of Emily Post and my amazing grandpa we killed it.

Rylan told Papa “it wasn’t that big” but even he will tell you it was!

I learned a few things from this spider trauma. First of all, papa rocks and gets major points for coming all the way there. Second, my best friends husband will not come to get a spider when Pat had told me to man up. Apparently there’s guy code and I’m excepted to handle it on my own! False. Hilarious conversations I never thought I would have.

But yes the spider is dead. I’m traumatized. Rylan thinks mommy is crazy!

 

Hard is Hard

Rylan is less than a year old and I’m trying to get her down for a nap while visiting my sister-in-law in Chico.

She’s flopping around and trying to talk and crawl away and is refusing to nap. I get frustrated and finally give up and take her to the stroller because I know that works. I’m frustrated and don’t have the energy to force it.

I come out of the room huffing and puffing and go to take her outside. My sister-in-law asks what happened and I start to tell her.

She laughs. “So she’s not crying or fussy, she’s just….awake?”

Me: “well yeah but its annoying I know she’s tired and going to get cranky and she needs to nap.”

I get why she’s laughing. It sound ridiculous when I hear it back to me. Later over a glass of wine we talk about it. She makes me feel better by reminding me that even though Rylan is a great baby and I have no idea how easy I have it, my hard is hard for me.

So while she can handle things and has infinitely more patience than I do, to me… this is hard.

Fast forward to Rylan being almost 3 and still I know how lucky I am.

She listens well and reasons for the most part. She argues at bed time and I want to pull my hair out. I’m sure there are a million moms that would look at our bed time routine and laugh at how frustrated I get. But its hard to me.

We all have no clue what going on in each other life and its so easy to look at every situation and say how you would do it differently. But you know what? It might not work. We all have to do what we know how to do and make changes where we need to in order to make things work for us.

For instance my hard right now (aside from bed time) is a kitten. Who would have thought that something that weighs just over 1 pound can make want to drink. Given, it was 3 weeks old when we were gifted it.

Gifted is a strong word. It was a trash can kitty my cousin found and my Aunt asked if we wanted it. I didn’t. At all. My darling, sweet, animal loving husband was supposed to be the bad guy and say no… he didn’t say no.

We’ve had it a week and its slowly getting better. Not going to lie, the first couple days I was cussing out my aunt dreaming of dropping it off on their doorstep knocking and running away.

The ONLY saving grace was how happy this damn kitten made Rylan. I mean they are buds. Rylan will sit and watch her iPad and this stupid kitten will cuddle on her back and sit in her lap and just snuggle. The smile on my kids face made me realize I couldn’t drop her off at the fire department. Wait is that kittens too?

So my point is everyone’s hard is hard. It doesn’t matter if we laugh at it and dismiss it or fully understand we could not handle that its hard. We all have support systems you just have to find yours. Find your people, your tribe, the one you can open up to about locking the kitten in the bathroom and turning up the radio so you can’t hear it cry. Thankfully my tribe is pretty big. They all understand me.

They also laugh at the fact that now that the kittens getting older and getting a personality she’s turned into a total little psycho.

I’ve had to delete 3 paragraphs from her stepping on my keyboard and throwing me off. In case you are wondering why she’s still living with us here are a few pictures.

 

 

Flying Apples

 

I get these ideas in my head and once they are there it has to happen. My latest thing was going to up to the lake in the evening and staying for the movie under the stars at Pinecrest Lake. If you haven’t ever done it you should, its amazing.

My husband rocks and I know if I pushed hard enough he would go and make the best of it but he doesn’t love crowds. So when I found out he was going to be gone for the weekend I figured it was the perfect chance to do something I wanted to do that he wouldn’t have enjoyed anyway.

Friday’s my dad watches Rylan and I had the day off so the stars aligned and it was the perfect plan. During her nap I’d get blankets and towels and snacks all packed up and ready so when she woke up we could head to the lake an relax before the movie. Also to save seats because normally its packed.

She woke up, we picked up my parents and headed up the hill. As we were driving, a junky car full of teenage boys was coming towards us and arm stuck out of the back seat window. I don’t know if it was an apple or what but a red ball looking thing came flying at our car and hit my headlight.

I didn’t know it was my headlight at first only that it sounded like we hit a freaking deer and it scared the bejeezus out of all of us. My mom said it was an orange but really her vision isn’t great so her testimony wouldn’t hold up in court. But she was right it was about that size so we assumed apple. Mainly because a tomato would not have made the explosion sound that whatever it was did.

I was fuming! Honestly who throws things at cars like that. I was deliberate too so save the soft voice “oh it was an accident”. No it wasn’t. If it was your kid who did it, your kid is a dick.

It could have hit my windshield. It could have made me crash. It could have hurt my child by crashing our came through the window itself.

I have no control over other peoples kids and I know that “boys will be boys”. But can we try to raise our boys not be little assholes.

I can do nothing except try to raise my daughter to be respectful of other people. I am going to try my hardest to teach her that we do not intentionally cause harm to other people. It’s not okay to deliberately cause damage to other people’s property.

I hope that I raise her to be compassionate and kind and to make good choices. I pray about it every night. Literally in those words! “Dear Lord Jesus, I pray that you give me the tools and patience to raise my daughter to be compassionate, kinda, and to make good life choices.”

This had created a new prayer for me. I pray that Rylan grows up resilient to the cruelty in the world. That when things like this (or much worse because that’s inevitable) happen that she doesn’t let it get her down. That she doesn’t become jaded. I pray that she finds the lesson in all the crap. The silver lining is always there.

For instance this apple throwing dickhead reminded me of the lessons I need to be teaching my daughter. Silver lining.

Luckily I have good insurance and drive a sturdy Yukon that could take a punch. But what if I didn’t? What if I was a single mom who could barely afford liability and just wanted to take my kid to the lake for the evening. That could have ruined the trip!

It didn’t ruin the trip. We had a magical time and it was everything I had pictured in my head. We relaxed, we had snacks, the water was amazing, the movie was cute, and Rylan lasted the whole movie against all odds.

I don’t know who the kid was who shattered my headlight but I know that Karma is a bigger bitch than I am. Not to mention its her only job. I’m pretty exhausted being a mom. Who works. With dogs…. yeah she’s got this.

Fear of Failing 

Do you believe in signs? Like from the universe? Signs from God? Something pushing you to something you didn’t think was in your plan?

That might be a little dramatic interpretation of what was happening for me but I like to think if you listen to the universe it will guide you the right way.

I LOVE podcasts! I want to start my own. I’m just working up to it and in the process. In the mean time I love listening to other ones. I have an extremely wide range of ones I listen to from mom podcasts to finance to self encouragement and happiness motivators. I even have some kid ones and story telling ones.

Yesterday I did a lot of driving so I was able to listen to Lori Harder interview Dave Asprey and it was amazing. He discussed his coffee and books and motivated me to want to try it all! He’s truly amazing and I can’t wait to get it all ordered. As soon as I budget for it. So probably next month!

My first sign of the day came from Dave saying that we have to give up our fear of failing. It’s okay to fail it doesn’t make us bad people it. I’ve heard  it before that failing is not the end. That it’s a learning experience and a stepping stone but something about the way he put it was super motivating.

It was freeing to think that people will support you no matter what. Most of them anyway. Like for me with this blog. I have no idea how it will come along or if I’ll eventually get my podcast. I know that I will work hard for it and keep pushing along. Even if no one reads this I’ll still write because its fun for me. So failing isn’t a fear because I’ll be okay either way. Success is preferred but I will enjoy the ride either way.  So thank you Dave Asprey!

The second sign pushing me towards letting go of fear was from one of my favorite authors and podcast Melanie Dale . In that link she interviews Kari Sowers who also comes up with the same advise. Get rid of that fear of failure.

TWICE in one day that was preached to me and I’m extremely grateful. That’s the purpose of these podcast and the message was received loud and clear!

It was exactly what I needed and what I hope to pass on to anyone who reads this!

I’m going full force with my budget planning and continuing hard-core on the debt snowball. For some reason that was a fear in my head. That we would put in all this hard work on becoming debt free only for something to happen. But losing the fear of failing is freeing in that sense too. Who cares if we have a set back! So what if it takes longer to pay everything off! As long as I don’t stop and don’t let fear hold me back I can see the future of financial freedom!

On my minimalism quest, one day at a time and I can’t fail. Yes my minimalism has gone from a journey to a quest! But no fear in this quest! Cleaning things out and getting rid of things on purpose! Not being scared of failure. If I fail and I’m not a true minimalist by a certain date that I haven’t even set yet… its okay. I’ll survive with plenty of time to keep getting rid of things.

All of this isn’t to say that we should just be lazy and cavalier about pursuing our dreams and goals. But more that we should do it with even more enthusiasm and excitement because if we fail, guess what? It wont kill us!  Strangely enough that’s also become my parenting style of an almost 3-year-old… but did you die? Another post in itself.

Another thing Kari Sowers said that hit hard was about making sure you are paying attention to the things that are priorities to YOU. Not to someone else, or what you think should be a priority to you, but what really matters to you. If having a clean house is important make it a priority. If spending time with your family is more important than do that.

I don’t have Facebook. It’s not a priority to me. I find ways to talk to the people I care about. Whether that’s instagram or Voxer or leaving my sister-in-law super annoying voice memos over text messaging. Her voicemail is always full so I force my voice on her anyway I can. (Just wait till I have my own podcast *evil laugh*)

Also losing that fear of failing means losing the fear of what other people think. In a big way! Because true friends and good people will not look at you different if you fail. They will help you get back up. They will encourage you to keep going and often times its them who wont let you fail in the first place.

Anyone who would judge your or think differently of you for failing doesn’t belong with you anyway and is probably holding you back. In which case failing and getting rid of them is actually winning and growing! So high-five, head up, moving on!

Leaving you today with my favorite quote from Jennifer Lawrence “Not everyone likes me… but not everyone matters”. Well said celebrity spirit friend. Well said.