Boob pancake.

Posted 11 Mar 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category cancer sucks


This afternoon, I have an appointment for my first mammogram. Yes, I am young (30, if you must know), but I have good reason to be starting so soon. Breast cancer surrounds me. My dad’s mom & sister both had it (and both are in remission), two of my mom’s sisters had it (one is in remission, one sadly passed away almost 3 years ago). My grandmother passed away due to a 5 year battle with ovarian cancer, which is closely linked to breast cancer. I’ve posted about these things many times. (For all the posts, click here.)

So, when I reached the ripe old age of 30, it was decided that I should begin annual mammograms. Did you know you’re not supposed to wear deodorant (for me, Dove Clinical) or lotion (Philosophy’s Pure Grace) when you have a mammogram? My appointment is at three-something today. Do you get where I’m going with this?

I am sweaty. My arms are dry. And I smell.

I LOADED the perfume on when I left the house for work today. It has been no match. Luckily (for everyone else) I don’t have any meetings today, so no one should be subjected to the horror that is my armpits.

My mom (who thankfully has been cancer free, and also doesn’t carry the breast cancer gene) ensured me that they would have like, baby wipes there to get the deoderant off, and that I should just wear it. Ma, I know you’re probably right, but this deod is FOR REAL. It doesn’t come off easily. And I don’t want any false alarms when it comes to smooshing my dirty pillows in highly technological machine.

So, I shall stink. And hopefully have an “all clear” after today.

Admitting defeat is the first step towards…

Posted 09 Mar 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category not so much, TheRapists

I was going to say “winning,” but after you finish reading the contents of this post, I didn’t want anything that might make me sound like Charlie Sheen.

Maybe I’ll say victory.

I haven’t been to seen the Magic Doctor (read: therapist) since before Christmas. I haven’t mentioned her here since September. Honestly, things felt better. I haven’t had an anxiety stomach since I don’t even know when. I’ve been happy with my job and not so worried about being a stay at home mom.

As I type this, I had in my head that I didn’t know why I suddenly feel like I’ve fallen down an emotional flight of stairs. I had thought maybe it was pressure I’ve been putting on myself to take care of everything at home. Really, I know it’s the culmination of a lot of things. I don’t cope well with change. (I don’t cope well with a lot of things, let’s be honest.) In the past month, the company I work for laid off 8% of it’s workforce, and we were kept in limbo wondering if we were losing our jobs. Luckily, I got to keep mine. We ended up with Abby in the ER on Sunday night. And when all this shit hits the fan, when I start feeling myself slipping down those first steps, I just try to deal. I try to fix in my mind whatever is pushing me. I try to focus on what makes me happy. It’s when I realize that nothing is making me stay happy that I’m falling.

That’s the way I’ve felt for weeks.

It grosses me out to think that my online shopping hiatus is adding to this, because as I jokingly title posts like that, it is what it is – retail therapy. I’m broke and not allowing myself to shop online and I have nowhere to put my negative energy. And it builds.

So, that’s where I stand. I have an appointment scheduled to see the Magic Doctor next week. Sorry if you’re a friend or family member reading this not knowing I felt this way right now. Sorry if it seems weird that I have an easier time typing this for the whole interwebs to read before I would pick up the phone and call. I have trouble talking to people about this kind of stuff. If you couldn’t already figure that out.

Rest assured I’m not going off the deep end like Charlie Sheen. Although you can catch my first vlog tomorrow night entitled “Tiger Blood and Warlocks equal #WINNING.”

THE CROUP! Part 2, and I can’t believe it’s only been 8 days.

Posted 08 Mar 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, motherhood, retail therapy

First. THE CROUP! It’s strikes again! “But Jenna!” you exclaim, “it’s only been less than 4 weeks since she had it!” Why YES, internets, you’re correct! So, imagine my surprise when we ended up in the ER at nearly 11pm Sunday night with our Abbers and the worst stridor we’ve seen. Poor girl was so tired and feverish and couldn’t sleep because we were in a noisy ER with drunk fools and other kids with respiratory problems. Alas, they gave her an oral dose of Prednisone and after an hour of observation, we were allowed to go home. At 1am. I don’t need to tell you that her sleep schedule (and thus, her sleep training) has taken a gigantic shit. I only hope that when she’s finally feeling better (probably sometime in May when the snow has finally melted) (I’m not being sarcastic either) she’ll go to bed like a good girl again.

I will say, the difference without and now with the steriods is NIGHT AND DAY. She’s so much better this time around, though still sick with a cough & runny nose, but so much less struggling with breathing at night.

Now, the other part of my post. It’s only been eight days since I put myself in an online shopping ban and I’m going INSANE. I’m not allowing myself to look, because if I look, I will buy. The not looking is what’s so hard. Just because I’m not visiting those sites anymore, doesn’t mean I don’t see their products. Must…not…look…

I DID buy Abby a dress at Hanna Anderson this weekend at ye olde Mall of America.

(it was on sale)

But it’s been 8 days, and I haven’t bought anything yet. This is going to be a long month.

I’m breaking up with online shopping.

Posted 28 Feb 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, paparazzi, RAD, retail therapy

I know, I know. Really, I’m okay. I’m not having a psychological break, nor do you need to phone the authorities.

I’ve thought this through, and it needs to happen.

When I was pregnant, I started browsing sites like and When something seemed useful, I’d buy it. Abby was born, and I joined Gilt Groupe, One Kings Lane, Zulily, Mini Social…the list goes on and on.

Instead of buying things I needed to prepare for a baby, I started to buy things that were cute. That I convinced myself she (or I) would need. Or, OMFG THAT IS SO CHEAP I HAVE TO BUY IT.

Don’t get me wrong, most things I purchase are usually for Abby, and she does (or will) wear them. However, Abby currently has 9 pairs of shoes. And clothes going all the way up to 4T in her closet.

And last month alone I spent almost $200 shopping online. It grosses me out to admit that. The worst thing is that I’m constantly living paycheck to paycheck. Now I know why.

The first step will be to unsubscribe to the daily emails I get from those member sites. THAT is what gets me. The second, much bigger step is to not allow myself to buy anything online. I’m going cold turkey for at least this month, if not another. (This does not include paying bills or buying plane tickets, this is about retail purchases.)

If I can do that, I’ll allow myself to browse when something is needed to find a better price, but I need to practice restraint.

So, there’s my challenge. Anyone care to join me? If there’s enough interest, I’ll make a badge that we can wear proudly. :)

And now, I’ll leave you with some pics of the Abs Cadabs.


I’m Alive!

Posted 22 Feb 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category I am a moron

Sunday I drove from Chicago to Minneapolis in the middle of an epic snowstorm. It was stupid, but we made it alive. I felt as though I should share that with you in case I start having random e-panic attacks and start writing long stories about that one time I almost died on Interstate 94. (I shouldn’t really say “one time” since this was the second time I almost died on I-94. You’d think I’d learn my lesson by now.)

Yesterday, the hubs and I shoveled away the 12+ inches of snow so we could take Abbers to the doctor, since she’s still really sick. We got some antibiotics, and she’s already on the road to recovery this morning.

Anyway, I have a big post on tap this week. A challenge, if you will. Keep your eyes peeled.