The girls had a good Christmas, with only a few bumps. We went to my parent's house for Christmas Eve and I took the girls presents from me for them to open there as well. This was one of the very few days that I wasn't intensely miserable with neck and back pain, in addition to sinus infection problems.
Celest inherited my dad's need to have all the house lights out and then took it up a notch (her knob goes to eleven): she wants them out even if she needs them on to do something. This started a tag sort of game when my nephews came over and tried to turn the lights on. As soon as one turned on she would whine and run to turn it back off. Other than this she heard the word hospital and decided she needed to go. My sister-in-law must have been the only reasonable looking adult in the group, so Celest decided to pester her to take her to the hospital. When we finally headed home she continued to ask for the hospital and "next time" (which was the only way we could mollify her at all about her request for the hospital.
Once we got home Celest scared me half to death when I was in the bathroom by setting off the house alarm. She opened the sliding glass door to let the dogs in; only problem was that the dogs were with Mark in Michigan. I asked her what she wanted to open it for and she said, "Dogs in the grass." She seems to really have taken a liking to Brogan, the new dog. She also calls him "yellow dog".
Anyway, nothing to exciting to report.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Random Bits
Celest joined Lotus as a crime-committing rabble rouser this year by pulling the fire alarm at school. No harm done, luckily, but a plan to prevent further such activities was put in place. She's very literal (she does have autism, after all); it said "pull" in big white letters, so she did...
Skipping anti-depressant meds is never a good idea. I don't do it intentionally, but I do have a habit of missing a day here and there. If I miss more than one day at a time I have a tendancy to become quite moody. I was working on a writing project the other night when I came across an article titled something like this, "Is bowel cancer fatal or can it be treated?" I burst into tears thinking about some poor person sitting in front of their computer searching for info on cancer. Had they just gotten a diagnosis of cancer? Had the doctor told them they had little to no chance of survival and they were doing their own research to see if it was true?
Then I got onto the very morbid train of thought that both my children and I will someday die. The thought of my children being hurt or dying makes me extremely depressed; it is inevitable that we'll all die someday, but thinking about it doesn't do any good. Still, it made me sob myself sick for about half an hour. I promptly went downstairs and took my Zoloft. Then I forced myself to write about something that wouldn't fill me with existential angst and morbid fear: weight loss...
Which brings me to my next random bit: I hate not being able to exercise. I haven't lifted weights in going on three weeks or more now. I'm really p*ssed about this, as I was hoping to gain muscle, not wither away the muscle I had. Also, I tend to be less depressed when I lift weights regularly. And winter makes me depressed, so I have the trifecta of depressants going for me: lack of exercise, irregular medication taking habits, and winter weather. Toss in an overall dissatisfaction with myself and my life, and you've got a recipe for deep unhappiness and self-destructive tendencies.
Having kids helps temper my emotional melodrama though; they don't leave me with the time or energy to wallow in self-pity for very long.
Skipping anti-depressant meds is never a good idea. I don't do it intentionally, but I do have a habit of missing a day here and there. If I miss more than one day at a time I have a tendancy to become quite moody. I was working on a writing project the other night when I came across an article titled something like this, "Is bowel cancer fatal or can it be treated?" I burst into tears thinking about some poor person sitting in front of their computer searching for info on cancer. Had they just gotten a diagnosis of cancer? Had the doctor told them they had little to no chance of survival and they were doing their own research to see if it was true?
Then I got onto the very morbid train of thought that both my children and I will someday die. The thought of my children being hurt or dying makes me extremely depressed; it is inevitable that we'll all die someday, but thinking about it doesn't do any good. Still, it made me sob myself sick for about half an hour. I promptly went downstairs and took my Zoloft. Then I forced myself to write about something that wouldn't fill me with existential angst and morbid fear: weight loss...
Which brings me to my next random bit: I hate not being able to exercise. I haven't lifted weights in going on three weeks or more now. I'm really p*ssed about this, as I was hoping to gain muscle, not wither away the muscle I had. Also, I tend to be less depressed when I lift weights regularly. And winter makes me depressed, so I have the trifecta of depressants going for me: lack of exercise, irregular medication taking habits, and winter weather. Toss in an overall dissatisfaction with myself and my life, and you've got a recipe for deep unhappiness and self-destructive tendencies.
Having kids helps temper my emotional melodrama though; they don't leave me with the time or energy to wallow in self-pity for very long.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Cover Girl, and other fun hobbies...
Celest has an obsession with makeup, particularly Cover Girl and Loreal (although honestly it doesn't really matter what brand it really is- it all falls under the category of "cover girl" or "loreal"). The best part about makeup, evidently, is trying to covertly eat it while applying it. Also, most everything goes on the lips. Doesn't matter if it's called eye shadow, applied to the lips it really adds depth and makes them "pop", if you know what I mean.
Lotus likes makeup a little, but no where nearly as much as her sister. She'll let me put on a little lipstick then she's good. Celest likes to have at least three coats of lipstick then top that off with some blush and eye shadow to the lip region. Very stylish. (anybody out there planning on getting her a Christmas gift- she can never have enough lipstick!)
My neck and shoulders are still killing me from my stupid car wreck, but at least the migraines are gone (hope I didn't jinx myself!). I'm mostly mad that I can't work out. My plan was to put on muscle from now until around late January/early February, then start dieting for a competition in March. I still might be able to do a competition in March, but I certainly won't have made the changes that I was hoping to. :( Grrr... Oh, and the chronic neck and shoulder pain isn't exactly my idea of fun.
I grew up in southern Ohio, where most people are poor and get-rich-quick-schemes are plentiful. I thought whiplash was mostly one of those schemes. I guess I'm being punished for my disbelief; I give up! Whiplash is real. And it hurts. And it sucks. Please, take it back now, I've learned my lesson! (sorry, that was mostly for the benefit of karma; just wanted everyone to know I've had my comeuppance and learned my lesson...)
Lotus likes makeup a little, but no where nearly as much as her sister. She'll let me put on a little lipstick then she's good. Celest likes to have at least three coats of lipstick then top that off with some blush and eye shadow to the lip region. Very stylish. (anybody out there planning on getting her a Christmas gift- she can never have enough lipstick!)
My neck and shoulders are still killing me from my stupid car wreck, but at least the migraines are gone (hope I didn't jinx myself!). I'm mostly mad that I can't work out. My plan was to put on muscle from now until around late January/early February, then start dieting for a competition in March. I still might be able to do a competition in March, but I certainly won't have made the changes that I was hoping to. :( Grrr... Oh, and the chronic neck and shoulder pain isn't exactly my idea of fun.
I grew up in southern Ohio, where most people are poor and get-rich-quick-schemes are plentiful. I thought whiplash was mostly one of those schemes. I guess I'm being punished for my disbelief; I give up! Whiplash is real. And it hurts. And it sucks. Please, take it back now, I've learned my lesson! (sorry, that was mostly for the benefit of karma; just wanted everyone to know I've had my comeuppance and learned my lesson...)
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