Archive for the ‘not so much’ Category

BRAT.

Posted 24 Jan 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category not so much

I was planning on coming back from vacay and writing an epic recap post, along with something about our pending plans to get this little kid on the sleep training…uh…train, when something else happened.

I thought I was going to die. In fact, I occasionally still do.

I woke up Sunday morning with what felt like the worst acid reflux/heartburn ever. Then I got the business. I wrote it off to late-night orange consumption and took a Pepto. The pain kept getting worse. I popped some Prevacid. Nothing. Then the pain got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I had a bleeding ulcer, or that my gallbladder had finally had enough and was trying to explode out of my abdomen. The hubs stayed home with Abbers while his mom & I went to the ER.

The doc gave me a Maalox & numbing-something concoction to rule out stomach issues. It didn’t help. He probed my tummy and I nearly went through the roof when he touched my right side. He started mumbling about my appendix or my gallbladder and I started panicking. I ended up getting a CAT scan and he determined that my “ascending colon” (that’s in quotes because I don’t know what the hell that is) was thickened and enlarged, probably due to a case of….

TRAVELERS DIARRHEA.

Is that not the grosses thing you’ve ever heard? Worst part is, diarrhea (shudder) wasn’t my big issue. My issue was the horrendous pain I was in. I got a prescription for Cipro which he said only to use if the…ehem….business doesn’t get better. (It has.) The pain is still lingering, as is my new diet. The BRAT diet – bananas, rice, applesauce and toast.

I’m feeling better, for the most part. My most awesome brother-in-law came over today to lend a hand with Abbers while I rested. I’m eating my toast like a champ and the pain is about a quarter of what it was yesterday. I get little episodes where it hurts REALLY bad, but they’re getting fewer and fewer. I’m hoping that by tomorrow I’m back in the saddle again, to quote Aerosmith. (It only seemed totally out of context and thus, belonged in this post.)

So yeah. I totally just spent a whole post talking about poop and pain and whatever. Don’t hate me. It happens to everyone.

Vacation = EFFING ANXIETY

Posted 12 Jan 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category not so much, other people are morons

Remember when you were a kid and your parents would plan a vacation and it was SO AWESOME AND FUN and you couldn’t wait to go? When someone took care of all the planning and travel arrangements so you didn’t have to worry about ANYTHING?

OMG y’all. I leave for Mexico on Sunday morning and I could NOT BE MORE ANXIOUS. Yeah, I’m excited but I’m more nervous than anything.

Let me backtrack. We’re headed to Puerto Vallarta…to the exact same hotel where we stayed when this happened. (Side note: I am happy to say that almost two years later and I finally look like this again. HIGH FIVE.) Anyway, this is my attempt to do that vacation again, the right way, with zip-lining and mas tequila. We’re doing this trip with three other couples, two of which are on our reservation with the airlines & hotel through Expedia. If you don’t follow me on the twitter, then you didn’t see this go down on Monday:

So yeah. Why was I putting myself through hell to talk to someone at Expedia? Because since I booked the trip for myself, the hubs and 4 of our friends in September, this message has been on our itinerary:

Awaiting confirmation from the airline? I have been checking back every 24 hours waiting for this confirmation SINCE SEPTEMBER and IT’S STILL NOT HERE? We leave Sunday, assholes.

So…I (finally) talk to Expedia, request ticket numbers, and they inform me that they have a confirmation for our flight, but I’ll have to call TransGlobal Vacations to get ticket numbers. GREAT.

I call them, talk to someone within 5 minutes, but then spend 20 minutes on hold while they try to find our reservation. Even WITH the confirmation number. Eventually they find it. And then tell me we’re supposed to have a “E-Travel Document” and that Expedia must have it. Okay…Expedia is a website. I don’t think they “have” anything, aside from the worst travel-themed hold music on the face of the Earth.

Which is where I stand now. I have a confirmation number, we all paid for our plane tickets…now we just wait to see if we can get checked in for the flight at 6am Sunday morning.

Meanwhile, between freaking out about packing, making sure Abby is all set to be away from momma & dadda for a week (which is pretty much causing me to cry on a daily basis) and thoughts of us arriving at the airport only to be told they can’t find our reservation, I am nearing critical anxiety levels.

Once I get on the plane? I will be excited.  Until then? PASS THE ZANAX.

(No really. I could use some. Or send wine. Wine works too.)

And….we’re back.

Posted 29 Dec 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category blog bidnass, I am a moron, not so much

After spending the last 24 hours trying to determine why in God’s name I couldn’t upload images to my blog anymore (or pretty much do anything aside from post), GoDaddy came through and helped me out. I was ready to jump ship, but they made things right again.  Still don’t know why my database lost write privileges (I still blame a server move on their part), but all is well in the world once again.

Did you know Puffs makes facial tissue with both lotion AND Vicks? Yeah. They do. (This should also clue you into the fact that I’m still SICKER THAN A DOG.) Anyway, here’s a tip. Don’t touch or rub your eyes after you blow your nose, because essentially you’re putting VapoRub IN YOUR GODDAMN EYES. I blame a head full of snot for prohibiting me from realizing it before it was too late.

ANYWHO – be on the lookout for some awesome pictures from Christmas to be posted later tonight!

We’re all gonna die a snowy death. And…SANTA!

Posted 10 Dec 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, not so much, RAD, The Hubs

The storm arriving tonight has the potential to be the biggest winter storm for much of Minnesota since the 1991 Halloween blizzard. Possible white-out conditions south and west of the Twin Cities, and wind chills of -20 to -35. (source)

So, I started writing a post about how Abbers will be seeing the man from the North Pole this afternoon, but all I am hearing since yesterday afternoon is SNOWMAGEDDON and that we’re going to be buried under 1-2 FEET of snow. I’m having a hard time focusing on anything else.

Again, why do I live here?

Anyway, this afternoon the hubs (who is sick as a dog right now with a cold I’m sure I’ll be suffering from momentarily) will be bringing Abby downtown and we’re heading the Macy’s to walk through the Christmas display on 8th floor, and then see the man himself. Secretly, I’m kind of hoping we get one of those pictures with the big ugly tears. I would love to add something to this collection.

I’ll post some pictures later. Of both our house covered in snow and Abbers with Santa.

Abbers, aka Evel Knievel

Posted 03 Dec 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, baby business, motherhood, not so much

So, my dear, sweet Abigail pulled a stunt the other day that made me nearly cry out in fear/sorrow and also made me want to high five the little shit.

She climbed out of her crib.

Mind you, it was of course unsuccessful. Papa (the hubs’ dad) had just put her in her crib in an attempt to get her to sleep. She apparently said “eff that noise, papa!” and then launched herself over the side, landing on the one side of the crib without carpeting. With a thud. And not on her feet. And then an hour of crying. She also nearly gave Papa a heart attack. Nurse Papa kicked in and checked her out and she was without bumps, bruises or concussions.

First – WTF Abbers? Since when do you climb? While that is awesome that you’ve learned how to do that, LET’S NOT. MMMKAY?

Second – I thought I lowered the crib already? How in the hell did you get out of it? Then I remember that I made the mistake of putting the crib on the middle setting. Not the lowest. No. I thought – “She won’t be able to climb over! This will be easier for us to get her in and out!” Low and behold, she did…like, 6 months later.

So, I lowered it. And then continued to panic because OMGWHATIFSHEDOESITAGAIN?

I briefly thought about this:

And then decided that having it on it’s lowest setting is just fine. If she pulls another Evel stunt again? She gets the toddler bed.

Short Attention Span Blogging.

Posted 30 Nov 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category blog bidnass, not so much

Things lately in my brain have been…muddled, to say the least. My writer’s block has plateaued. I actually started this post over a week ago with just a title and an intent on making a bulleted list of shit I’ve done, and I couldn’t even do that.

Days like today, where I slept minimal hours last night due to Abby’s lack of sleep, I start to worry. About everything. And I can’t focus, which is to be expected since I haven’t slept. But then I get scared that I’m falling back into The Funk. My lack of motivation and jumping to the worst conclusion in situations screams depression and anxiety.

I’ve been shying away from Twitter, blogging, email and talking to my e-friends, and I don’t have a good reason why. I hate it. I want this blog to be so much and when I don’t post, I feel like I’m failing. And that makes me sad. It also makes me not want to post because what’s the point?

I feel like if I could have a weekend where I completed maybe ONE THING on my to-do list (either blog or life wise)…that it might be enough to kickstart my motivation to do ANYTHING.

ANYWAY, without further adieu, more bulleted lists about my life. Enjoy.

  • As mentioned above, Abby slept HORRIBLY last night. After traveling this weekend, Sunday was perfection – no waking, slept late. Yesterday started going downhill after a trip to Target – clingy, wouldn’t sit and play, needed me AT ALL TIMES, and seeming super lethargic. Last night she spent most of the night crying and half-sleeping, and was SUPER warm…yet no fever. Cooler jammies and tylenol helped briefly…then a bottle…then more being awake. I’m hoping it’s teething or a little bug. I don’t have it in me to deal with her when she comes home from the in-laws. And I feel horrible saying that.
  • Christmas tree went up last night. We went LED with our lights this year…some twinkling. Overall I like it, but the glow of the Christmas tree is like, white light instead of a warm glow. I give it a B right now. :)
  • My Christmas shopping is nearing completion. I still have to get another gift for my mom and dad…and Santa has not yet completed his purchases for Abbers, but the hubs is done…and everyone else is half done! However, I don’t know about wrapping said gifts and putting them under the tree – Abby has figured out how to open gifts, finally. (Bad timing!)
  • Other than her issues as of late – Abby has been just a complete joy. She loves getting kisses and is getting a little better at trying to walk. No serious walking yet, but a few steps here and there. I love her more and more every day.
  • My bedding I mentioned back here FINALLY came last week, and I love it. In fact, I don’t plan on painting our bedroom anymore. I like the blue walls with the bedding. And I plan on buying turquoise curtains for our room. Hope you’re okay with that, hubs.

Alright, if you’ve stuck with this post this long, you’re a saint. I’m going to try really hard to get back into the swing of things. I don’t want to settle in to where I am right now. I don’t like it. So…stay with me, people. Work in progress.

This will be funny someday.

Posted 17 Oct 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category house stuffs, not so much, the cats, The Hubs

Scene: Saturday morning. My basement. Recently refinished with new flooring, and remodeled bathroom.

Players: Myself, and my friend who’s been helping me for the past few weeks with said bathroom.

He hasn’t been over since the floors were finished and I’ve painted the bathroom. Today we are just wrapping things up – putting the toilet back and installing the sink and vanity. Needless to say, I’m SO EXCITED to show him how good it looks.

Me: OMG! Doesn’t it look awesome! Now, come look at the bathroom. It looks so good, doesn’t it?!

Him: Uh…is that supposed to be there? (maybe not what he said because OMG I can’t remember specifics at this point)

Me: What?

He points to the floor behind me, underneath the laundry sink.

I look down, and see this:

Thats not a mouse.

A FUCKING RAT.

IN MY BASEMENT.

RIGHT NEXT TO ME.

Okay, I don’t care that it’s dead WHATHEMUTHEREFFINGHELL is a RAT DOING IN MY HOUSE?! !?

At this point, I’m like, hyperventilating, jumping all over the place and trying to form complete sentences but HOW CAN I WITH A RAT RIGHT THERE. My friend is just laughing and also being slightly grossed out and simply cracking up because I was all “Look at my beautiful basement!” totally oblivious to the dead animal with a 12 inch tail inches from my feet.

Once I gained enough composure to start breathing, I thought long and hard about how we could have gotten an animal THAT SIZE in our house, and how I didn’t notice. Then I remembered the gaping hole in the floor where the toilet usually sits. We had stuffed paper towels in it 3 weeks before so the sewer fumes wouldn’t stink the house up. I looked in the bathroom – paper towel is no longer in the hole. This thing swam through the sewer (vomitvomitbarfGROSS) and somehow ended up in my basement.

Wait. I should pause this story to add the following sad sidenote: We had to put our cat Boo-boo down on Friday. He had come down with the same disease that was our cat Miles’ ultimate demise. He was getting really sick and we just needed to take care of it before it got out of hand. It was super sad, and we were lucky enough that the sister-in-law was able to be with him when he was put down. (I was at work, and the hubs couldn’t bear to do it – he did it with Miles and couldn’t do it again.) We’ll miss you Bubs. :(

It dawned on the hubs and I that more than likely, before Boo went to the scratching post in the sky, that he must have killed this rat. I shit you not when I say this rat was half the size of Boo. Like, no effing joke. And Boo killed it. Even as sick as he was, he was still defending his territory.

I told my dad about what happened. His response? Good luck getting your mother over to your house again.

I’m exhausted.

Posted 05 Oct 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category marriage, motherhood, not so much

I hate when I wish for entire weeks to be over, when it’s only Tuesday.

As I hinted in my last post – we got the bug over the weekend. Well, to be specific, I got it Saturday (along with the  mom-&  sister-in-laws). I thought it was a weird hangover caused by a mere 3 beers the night before. When I threw up at 3 in the afternoon, it just felt wrong. But I felt better. And then I felt worse. MUCH MUCH WORSE. The hubs kept Abbers away from me all night and slept in the living room so I could rest. I slept like crap, but felt better Sunday.

Monday morning, the hubs wakes up to find SURPRISE! He has it now. I have Mondays off, so I kept her in the living room and away from the sick room and she was happy as a clam. Teething like a mofo, but hyper and cute and cuddly as could be. We had an awesome day together. I chose to sleep on the couch as the hubs had, and put Abby down, only to have her wake up like, 6 times during the night. At 1:30, I brought her onto the couch with me where she slept on my chest for an hour before I brought her back to bed.  It was so cozy, and I just figured she was in the clear, she’d survived without getting ill.

This morning, shortly after only finishing half of her bottle, she threw up. And I immediately felt like a failure.

I know it’s not my fault, and I know there’s not much I could have done to keep her from getting this, but I felt it anyway. The mother-in-law came over today to watch her, and sadly she was the one to get puked on. I then felt horrible that I couldn’t be home with my daughter when she was going to be at her sickest. Abby didn’t seem to mind to much, she was settled in nicely on her grandma’s lap with a book.

Then I tried to leave for work.

She whined and reached out for me.

I picked her up and tried my hardest not to cry. Especially in front of her, with her already being sick and upset. I teared up but kept myself together, gave her a gentle squeeze and she grabbed on harder, sensing I was going to try to hand her back to grandma. I let go, said “See you in a few hours, sweetpea!” walked out of the house and lost my shit. I cried the whole 2 blocks to the train.

I’m tired. I’ve eaten 3 pieces of toast, a bowl of soup, a bowl of cereal and a box of macaroni & cheese since Friday night. I don’t want my daughter to be sick. I want my husband to be back to 100%.

I want this week to be over.

Why are there SEVEN boxes of Kleenex?

Posted 20 Jul 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category motherhood, not so much, TheRapists

The title of this post is the very thought I had when I walked into a room I’m about to become very familiar with – the therapy room.

I had my first visit with a therapist yesterday.

Wait, I should pause for a moment to add this disclaimer. I’m sure some of you are thinking, DOODE. You’re just going to put that out there? For everyone to read? Even people you work with or like, barely know? And the answer is, YES. I almost didn’t get help because I was embarrassed to admit that I couldn’t help myself anymore, that I couldn’t fix my problems the same way I had been. I can only assume there are other people out there, not just people who’ve had babies, who have felt the same way. I’m here to admit that I’m not embarrassed to get help anymore.

Okay, so yeah. First therapy appointment yesterday. Probably THE WORST day to meet a therapist for the first time. I got about 5 hours of sleep the night before and had spent the 5 hours before going to bed and after waking up working on a project for work that was launching at the same time as my appointment. (Can you say STRESSED OUT?!)

One of the many lessons I learned yesterday is that, NO…I CANNOT WORK FROM HOME. I mean, I got stuff done, but Abby was all “MOMMA LOOOOOOOOOOOOK” but instead of saying that she was all “BAAAAAAAA MMAAAAA DADADADAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” until I’d pick her up. And then she’d try to dismantle my work laptop via teeth and fingernails that needed to be trimmed.

ANYWAY, I showed up to my appointment without the papers she wanted filled out because I couldn’t find a printer that worked in the 30 minutes I had before my appointment.  She didn’t mind, and escorted me into the therapy room.

It was small, felt like a den in someone’s home, and had SEVEN OPEN BOXES of Kleenex. I couldn’t believe it. I was like – WTF. Who needs this much Kleenex?

Within 20 minutes I had answered my own question. I cried so hard I couldn’t speak for almost 2 minutes.

I spilled everything I’d been bottling up for the last three or four months. Because I did feel better than I had a month ago, and I wasn’t as scared of my thoughts anymore, I admitted the horrible thoughts I’d had but was no longer having, even though I still had a fear she’d try to admit me to a hospital or have Abby taken away from me.  I told her about how I was starting to have episodes where I felt like I might explode, and just wanted to sit down where I was, cover my ears and scream. That sometimes knowing I’ll be in certain situations makes me want to curl into the fetal position and rock myself into oblivion. That I am constantly full of worry and totally unable to verbalize any of this to anyone for fear of how they’ll handle my thoughts.

We went through the dreaded depression checklist. By the end of my appointment, she was leaning towards my having anxiety issues moreso than depression. We’re meeting again soon to discuss my pregnancy and labor. She wasn’t also ruling out the possibility of PTSD after my labor experience.

When it was over, I walked outside and took a big deep breath. The sun was out for the first time that day. I felt like, twenty pounds lighter. I know everyone says “it’s like a weight is lifted off your shoulders” when you talk to someone for the first time, but it was. That was when I tweeted this:

I’m just so looking forward to not feeling this way anymore. I think I was ramping up to this for a long time, and my pregnancy was just the trigger to make it unmanageable. I don’t even care anymore though. I just want to be better, and I feel like I might be able to now.

Why rompers are bad

Posted 25 Jun 2010 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category I am a moron, not so much, retail therapy

Recently, I purchased a romper at Target. I have since come to realize that I was drawn to the fabric print more than the “fashion-don’t” itself, but hindsight is 20/20, eh? I thought to myself, “I have an outdoor concert to go to on Saturday – if it’s hot, THIS WILL BE PERFECT!” WRONG.

Anyway, ROMPERS. In and of itself sound like toddlerwear. BECAUSE THEY ARE. Adults are not meant to wear rompers..for a number of reasons.

Do you see the results? MEANT FOR BABIES.

Right, so…why are rompers wrong? Well, first – let me tell you: I had fully intended on taking a photo of myself in this romper I purchased (see below) REGARDLESS of how I looked in it. THAT’S how confident I was that I wouldn’t look like shit. I was SO WRONG.

The romper in question

I tried it on in my bedroom (Do you understand that I actually purchased one without trying it on? Who the hell do I think I am? Heidi Klum!?) and OH MY GOD. Hot mess doesn’t even begin to describe what I looked like in this thing.

The romper in question did three things for my body, none of which are good:

  1. Hey, look! You’re five months pregnant! Oh, you’re not? WELL YOU LOOK LIKE YOU ARE.
  2. A serious case of NoAssAtAll. And trust me, after bearing a child and being on this very earth for nearly 30 years, I HAVE AN ASS.
  3. Yeah, I know…I have shitty posture. This romper is all, “Here! LET ME ACCENTUATE THAT FOR YOU.”

So, as quickly as it was on, it was off and lying on my bedroom floor. I poked it with a stick a few times to make sure it was really dead and stuck it back in the Target bag whence it came.

After this horrorshow, it dawned on me how horrible it would have been had I actually decided to wear it to this concert. Let’s just pretend for a second that I did look like the fabulous Target model wearing it and got to this outdoor concert. Enter…the PortoPotty.

When children wear rompers, most of the time there are crotch snaps to access poo and pee filled diapers. When ADULTS wear rompers, you pull them down to empty your bladder/poop tubes.

I would have had to sit virtually naked in a PortoJohn to cut a wiz.

I NEVER want to be naked in a PortoPotty.

EVER.

Also, the vision of the lock malfunctioning and the door being opened causing a line of people at the toilets and the entire festival grounds taking a peek at me with A ROMPER AROUND MY ANKLES and nothing else on is both hilarious and probably the worst thing ever.  (You know, aside from being locked in a room with “Afternoon Delight” at 11 and on repeat. (PCU! WHAT!))

::breathes::

I took the romper back on Wednesday.

Consider yourself warned.