Mommy By The Book » health

I think I’ve found a good excuse to never run on the treadmill again

Rachel — Thu, 19 May 2011 20:29:09 +0000

My cute girl with two functioning, non-mangled hands

So, do you want the good news or the bad news first? Bad news? Ok then, glad we agree.

Two weeks ago the husband was running on the treadmill in the basement while our daughter played and watched cartoons in the same room. We’ve had this set-up for a while, we’ve had conversations about never ever ever touching the treadmill while it is on, and all has gone smoothly. You can see where this is going. For some inexplicable reason my little girl decided to wander on over and stick her sweet, soft, innocent little hand under the moving treadmill belt and IT GOT STUCK.

My husband called me at work, in a panic because Claire was completely freaking out and would not stop screaming, even to the point of throwing up. I was trapped, having joined a carpool (which is a post in itself) the week before. From what I could gather there was very little blood, but a lot of skin had been taken off and my poor girl was miserable. There wasn’t anything that looked like it needed to be stitched up, even though her hand was quite mangled, so we didn’t go to the ER. It looked like what it needed was some good old fashioned antibacterial ointment, some time to heal, and some major TLC. That day (and the next few as well) that girl got whatever she wanted in our desperate attempt to bring her any sort of comfort and happiness. Watch movies all day? Sure! You want popsicles for dinner? You got it! Here, have some chocolate too!!

The following days were downright heartbreaking and completely stressful for all of us. Her hand had to be bandaged and protected. The first night I loosely taped some gauze to her hand, slathering it all with antibacterial ointment. The next morning, to my horror, the gauze had dried to her oozing, open wounds. We had to try to force her hand underwater per her doctor’s suggestion (which is painful on such sensitive wounds) and then yank the gauze off. Just typing that sentence makes me ill all over again. I’m sure I don’t even need to describe the howling on my daughter’s part. I raced to the nearest pharmacy in a frenzy, sweeping into my basket non-stick gauze and antibacterial sprays and band-aids with cartoon characters on them and anything else that looked remotely helpful.

In an effort to protect her damaged hand, my girl would keep it in a fist and wouldn’t let anyone or anything near it. While I praised her basic survival instincts and tenacity at keeping us from touching it, that hand absolutely had to be tended to in order to prevent infection and ensure proper healing. Even in her sleep, if I would try to touch her hand to adjust the bandages she would quickly jerk it away. Changing the bandages became a 3-man job that I would dread for over an hour before the appointed time to make it happen with the assistance of one of her grandmothers. Grandma would hold her tightly in her lap, while my husband gingerly pried her shredded fingers open and I sprayed and bandaged and taped as quickly as my inexperienced hands would allow. Claire made sure to fulfill her role in this as well and would scream and thrash as much as she possibly could. Each bandaging session left me feeling guilty for causing her pain, frazzled, and beyond anxious. Luckily, after several days this process was downgraded from a 3-man job to a 2-man operation and now, finally, is one-woman gig. (Lucky me).

Things looked like they were making slow but steady progress on most of her hand, but her 4th finger (the ring finger on her left hand, no less) just is not keeping up. That poor finger got the worst of the damage, it seems, and has had great difficulty healing. For almost a week I couldn’t even get a good look at it because she would not open her hand for anything, and when we’d force her hand open all the thrashing about prevented me from seeing much. A few days ago she FINALLY started opening her hand on command, even patiently allowing me to bandage her up with only minor whimpering, and one part of her finger is still all gooey and oozy and fleshy and mangled and just…awful. On Monday she began acting lethargic and feverish, and I panicked thinking infection had set in at last and called the doctor.

Fortunately, the doctor didn’t seem as panicked as I felt and offered some good advice and prescribed an antibiotic to stave of what looked to be just the beginnings of a bacterial infection. He did say, though, that while it looked like tissue was regenerating in the deepest part of the wound, it appeared there was still dead tissue stuck in there that needed to come out. I’m pretty sure I lost all color at that point, because he quickly assured me I wouldn’t have to scrub it, for heavens sake, but we still would need to care for it. He suggested wrapping it in regular gauze as opposed to the non-stick kind, allowing it to dry and stick to the wound, soaking it in water and then taking it off in an effort to remove the dead tissue with it. My stomach immediately knotted up and I wanted to positively beg him to take my daughter home with him for the next 3 days so he could take care of it, because I was done. I could NOT intentionally cause my daughter any more pain. No no no no no.

The unfortunate thing about being a parent is that you cannot simply drop your child off with someone else when the tough stuff happens. You now must be the hero. I remember reading an article once in my pre-child days where the writer described his young child dealing with some sort of worm/parasite thing? And for weeks when they changed a diaper, they had to search for the appearance of said worm emerging from his child’s bowels, and then pull the worm the rest of the way out. (I really hope you aren’t eating right now.) As the author described it: “it’s a damn horror show.” That’s pretty much what played through my head and provided some tiny bit of comfort as I drove home from the pediatrician. I may have to rip tissue out of my sweet daughter’s hand, but at least I’m not pulling a worm from her butt.

That night, as I placed regular gauze on her hand I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. My dear girl had been so brave, so long-suffering and upbeat through this whole ordeal and still had a ways to go. I was so proud of her. How could I possibly inflict more pain on her?

Happily, this gauze treatment has been relatively smooth sailing. We have to get pretty creative with ways to get her hand wet, since she still doesn’t like doing that, but she has tolerated the bandage changing like a true gem and it looks like we’re making progress. Hopefully a couple more weeks and everything will be back to normal.

So, let’s recap what we’ve learned here:

1. Treadmills and young children do not mix. AT ALL.

2. Don’t put regular gauze on an open and oozing wound immediately after it happening unless you want to make the situation 100 times worse.

3. Dora The Explorer band-aids, in fact, DO make the owie feel a little better. So do popsicles.

4. Being a kid is tough. Being a parent is tough. But we’re all stronger than we think we are.

As for the good news…well, this post is long enough, don’t you think? That will have to wait for another day

It’s all in the wrist

Rachel — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 17:51:08 +0000

A few months ago I discovered a new workout program that I loved. It was challenging, it was interesting, I could do it at home, and I was seeing results! At last! An exercise routine I loved! Only there was one problem: after a couple of months I started noticing this weird pain in my wrist and hand. The exercises are kind of a bootcamp-style routine, so I was regularly doing push-ups and other weight-bearing exercises on my hands.

I kind of worked through the pain for a bit, thinking I had just tweaked my wrist and that it would heal in a few days. It wasn’t getting better, so I figured I should rest my hand and wrist for a while and start back up in a week or two. Right around that same time, we were running around the house with the toddler, just being silly, and I happened to accidentally run right into my husband with my right hand extended, jamming my wrist. Oh, it was excruciating! The whole next day every single little movement hurt. Typing, writing, eating, driving, dressing, lifting…I couldn’t do any of it. Even without use, the whole area would throb with pain. Being right-handed, this seriously got in the way of things.

I started icing my wrist, hoping that this weird injury would go away. Luckily the pain subsided a bit, but daily activities continued to hurt. I couldn’t put ANY weight on that hand unless I made a fist in order to keep my wrist straight. Little things like chopping vegetables or doing my hair were unpleasant to say the least. (So I just don’t do them! Ha!)

I came to the conclusion that after 10 years of working on the computer I had finally developed Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. Not the end of the world, obviously; there are much worse ailments. But a nuisance. I promised my family that if things didn’t start to feel better by April that I would see a doctor. Naturally, my over-active imagination began to spiral out of control in the following weeks. What if the pain becomes so bad I can’t use my right hand ever again? What if it is arthritis that is slowly spreading through my body, leaving me in a wheelchair by the time I’m 50? What if this is a beginning sign of MS? What if it’s bone cancer? What if…what if….?

Sure enough, over 6 weeks went by and no improvement was made, so I visited a hand and arm specialist. Within a minute of describing my pain and feeling the joints he knew what it was.

“Does this hurt right here?”, he asked, pressing his thumb firmly on the top and center part of my wrist and sending shooting pains through my hand and arm and causing me to momentarily go a bit cross-eyed.

The problem, he said, is not Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, but a ganglion cyst growing within the joint and putting pressure on the nerves. Nothing dangerous and potentially fixable, but a bit inconvenient.

(FYI- don’t do a Google Image search for ganglion cysts if you are squeamish. Hoo boy! You’re welcome.)

Ganglion cysts are not necessarily uncommon and can present in a variety of ways. You can’t really see mine as mine apparently is smaller and located deeper within the wrist, but those also tend to be more painful.

The doctor injected it with a cortisone shot (ouch!) and told me to give it a month. If it isn’t better in a few weeks, come back for another one. If those don’t work, they can try to aspirate it (drain the fluid) or remove it surgically. However, there is always the risk of the cyst returning later on.

One other method of removal that I read about online is to whack it as hard as you can with a heavy book, rupturing the lining and therefore getting rid of it (until it grows back…). Um, hello? NO.

I also learned that I have what are called “lax joints”, and that my wrists and fingers are hypermobile, or in other words, they have an extended range of motion. The doctor was quite rushed (I waited for an hour in the waiting room) so I wasn’t able to ask him much about it, but he mentioned that things like push-ups are bad for a person with joints like I have. I did some research online and learned about a syndrome called Joint Hypermobility Syndrome that has a crazy array of symptoms, some of them can be very serious (spontaneous rupture of the heart or lungs, anyone?), but it seems like there could be varying degrees of the severity of the symptoms. Anyhoo, if I do indeed have this syndrome, it would explain a LOT over the years. Ever since I was a kid I have seen doctors for ankle, knee, hip, back, fatigue and headache problems and never received any answers. I’ve always felt like I had an “old” body and just dealt with the pain, and often ascribed it to the fact that I danced competitively and was always very active. I’ll have to dive into it all a little more and maybe consult with the doctor again, but it’s almost like a weight off my shoulders to know why. There isn’t much that can be done about it all, but it’s kind of nice to know it isn’t all in my head or that I’m just a big baby, you know?

So. There you have it, whether you wanted to know or not. I’m grateful to have a generally healthy and functional body, and even though this wrist thing isn’t exactly a party, I still consider myself lucky. In the meantime, I have this super-cool accessory to wear:

I have to wear it at night to keep my wrist from being slept-on funny, which kills, and during the day as much as needed to manage pain. You don’t have to tell me, I know it’s way hot. Try not to be jealous

P.S. This is a wretched picture of me that I took a few days ago while chatting with a friend to show her what was up. I feel the need to explain that I had to be at work extra-early that day, hence the hat and bloodshot eyes. But really, let’s face it, it’s not like I really get much fancier for work on days I have more rest.

P.P.S. After sending this pic my friend said of my office ,”It looks like you’re in a closet.” Yes, yes it does.

A post about why I haven’t posted

Rachel — Mon, 06 Dec 2010 23:37:31 +0000

I’ve had so many good intentions over the last several days, and yet this here bloggy has been a bit light in the posting department. I’m sure all of you have been wringing your hands and asking, “Why? Oh, why hasn’t there been a new post? Whatever shall I read?”. Well, have no fear! I am here to post about not posting! Quality stuff, I tell ya.

While brushing my teeth or showing in the morning I get all sorts of fantastic post ideas, including a title and pictures and the whole she-bang! But then as the day goes on it turns out there is actual work to be done (I know, lame) and a child to be fed and a house to be cleaned and a husband to be fawned over and before you know it, I’m plum worn out. Plus, I would like to include a picture in the post (that still exists only in my head), but that would require the camera that is upstairs, which would require hauling myself back up the stairs, requiring energy (you see where this is going?). So in the end, not a thing gets accomplished.

And then there’s all this pressure- a post must be witty! And moving! And informative! And creative! And all manner of wonderfulness! The pressure, I assure you, it’s crippling.

But really, despite all my laziness and insecurities, I did fully intend on writing something worthwhile (*ahem* unlike this post), and then the heavy hammer of disappointment came down upon my head, and I felt the need to wallow in it. And wallowing in disappointment does not lend to blogging, my friends. You see, I’ve spent the last month interviewing for a particular job. It wasn’t my dream job, necessarily, but the commute would’ve been so nice and it was something I was experienced in and comfortable with and felt would be a good thing. So I did my research, went through four (4) lengthy interviews, completed an extensive background check, sent emails to five (5) different references requesting they fill out a survey about me, and totally thought I had it in the bag. I was well qualified and really seemed to hit it off with all six (6) of my various interviewers. “Easy-peasy!” thought I, “I’ll have a sweet little commute instead of this tortuous, soul-sucking slog through miles of construction in no time!”.

And then, what did appear in my inbox this last Thursday but a general email of rejection thanking me for my time and admirable talents and informing me they’ve decided to go with another candidate.

Well!

So, wallow I did. It wasn’t so much that I was devastated about not getting my dream job, because it wasn’t my “dream job”. I already have a perfectly adequate job where everyone is very nice. It just might have been a more enjoyable and convenient job, I suppose. It’s just…I don’t know, the rejection? The fact that I really did my best, and really thought I would do so well at the job, and it turns out I wasn’t good enough? Maybe the fact that I put so much time and energy into the process, and didn’t even receive a phone call and instead got a generic email? Bah! Who knows?

In the end though, I am very fortunate. I have a job, a decent one, and that’s a lot more than many people are able to say, so I should be grateful. The wallowing in self-pity was short lived.

Since the pity-party ended quickly, a blog post should’ve been born, right? Wrong. Instead, my body decided to give up on its defenses and went and got sick. I woke up at 3 AM a couple nights ago coughing and choking uncontrollably every time I tried to take a breath. I got up to get a drink, only to be consumed by the most unsettling feeling of a racing heart, a cold sweat, a queasy stomach, and a spinning head and spent the rest of the weekend in such a state. The husband and I are both mystified as to how I seemed to get violently ill in a manner of minutes and then have it linger.

So hopefully this odd little post will suffice until an actual post with substance can be created and we can all be friends again. Deal?

Back to life

Rachel — Sat, 15 May 2010 18:10:52 +0000

Well, I’m happy to report that the family has finally returned to a a healthy status. Brady had to go back to the doctor early in the week because he still couldn’t hear, and it turned out his ears were still infected, even after a full round of antibiotics. He got another shot of meds, but it’s been almost a week and he has yet to hear clearly out of his right ear. It’s crazy to me what he has gotten sick with lately- RSV and ear infections. It’s like I have another infant in the house.

I swear Claire came out the other side of her illness even cuter than before. She truly lights up the room with her happy personality. She has developed quite the sense of humor and jabbers all day long. I could just eat her up, she is so stinking adorable. I’m sure she’s getting tired of having me kiss her chubby cheeks, but I definitely can’t get enough.

So now it’s back to the daily grind of juggling schedules and racing from one place to the next as we try to go to class and work and fulfill our duties at home. It is exhausting, but I do feel good knowing we are being productive and filling our time with good things. Some days I don’t even realize there are people leading lives that allow for leisure time, until I hear someone mention they went shoe shopping or they went out to pick up a new necklace. Shoe shopping?? I can’t even remember what it is like to browse through a store, looking for something to buy. Occasionally I will try to squeeze in a few minutes of online shopping, but being able to actually wander around a store, touching and trying on merchandise, sounds like an absolute dream to me. I’m sure someday we will reach that point again. For now, it’s best if I just pretend a life like that doesn’t exist and that everyone spends their time either trapped in a classroom or trapped in a cubicle or running somewhere in between. My alternate reality is quite the sanity-saver.

A rather sad little post. You’ve been warned…

Rachel — Fri, 07 May 2010 22:55:34 +0000

I attempted to sit down on Tuesday and write a post, but I was literally too sleep deprived to even put two coherent words together.

I tried again on Thursday, but I suppose I was still too exhausted and burned out that I could hardly keep myself from banging my head on the keyboard and then falling asleep.

I guess what I’m saying is, it’s been a rough week.

Since the broccoli barf incident, things went steadily downhill until we reached the point where Claire was vomiting 10+ times a day from coughing so hard, lethargic, burning hot, and just the saddest little girl you’ve ever seen. I thought my heart couldn’t break any more, until another puking episode required yet another bath. As I set her down next to the bath to take off her onsie and diaper, her little legs were visibly shaking from being so weak and tears ran down her chubby cheeks. I tried valiantly to fight back the tears myself, but my heart just couldn’t take it anymore. Truly, there is nothing worse than seeing your child in pain or discomfort and not being able to do a single thing about it.

On Sunday we went to the Urgent Care to see if we could get Claire back on the road to recovery, where they took chest x-rays and gave her injections of antibiotics and all sorts of other torturous things, only to discover a couple days later from her regular pediatrician that she was MISDIAGNOSED (AARGH!) and I now have a several hundred dollar medical bill coming my way and my little girl did not get any better.

So in the midst of all the not sleeping and barf cleaning and soothing and fretting and whatnot, Brady’s body decides the sinus/cough thing he had been fighting for a while just wasn’t enough. On Tuesday night he suddenly started experiencing extreme pain in one of his ears, to the point where he was almost in tears. After a few agonizing hours he felt a pop, some relief, and fluid began draining out. I sent him to the doctor the next day and sure enough, he had an ear infection. Later that night, the other ear did the same thing. You should see his pillow after having fluid draining from both ears all night. In fact, I could probably post a picture…what? No? That’s gross? Well, that’s no fun. So anyway, the man can’t hear much but is on the mend at least.

Add to the mix some stressful changes at work, and then summer semester starting for both of us yesterday!

WHEEEE!!!

How’s your week been? Better, I hope!

A healthy dose of birth control

Rachel — Sat, 01 May 2010 22:47:27 +0000

Good news! I figured out a way to get Claire to let me brush her teeth. Apparently if I sing “Popcorn Popping” like a clown on crack she happily opens her mouth and lets me brush away.

In other news, she also came down with a nasty cough a couple nights ago. The husband has actually been sick for weeks and finally went to the doctor to find out he had RSV, of all things, so there is a good chance that is what she has too. At 10:00 PM we could hear the dreaded deep, strong, barky cough coming from her room. It woke her up and caused her to cough so hard that she threw up all over the floor. Poor girl.

Last night we went in to check on her around midnight and were punched in the face by the smell of vomit as soon as we walked in the room. It seemed extremely odd, since we never heard anything aside from a little coughing, so there’s no way she actually threw up, right? Upon closer inspection, we discovered vomit on her sheets. We rolled her over and lo and behold, there was barf covering her pj’s, blanket, and hair. It must have been a rather pleasant and peaceful experience for her this time around, because nary a peep did she make. We woke her up, stripped her and the bed, and discovered chunks of broccoli barf dried in her hair…and on her cheek…and down her neck…and onto her back… and on her hands.

This is the kind of stuff they need to teach to crazy teenagers in sex ed classes. Are you ready to clean up chunks of broccoli barf at midnight instead of partying with your friends? ARE YOU? If that doesn’t scare them straight, I don’t know what will.

In the tub she went, the poor little thing bleary eyed and bewildered, wondering why she was woken up from a peaceful sleep and thrown into the water.

I sure do love being a mom and my little girl. But if there was one thing I could eliminate from motherhood, it just might be cleaning up vomit.

What do you other parents think? What would be the one gross/onerous task you would eliminate from daily life with kids?

A conundrum

Rachel — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 18:06:51 +0000

I try to stay pretty on top of things as far as my daughter’s health and well-being go. As with most new aspects of motherhood though, I was pretty clueless how to go about caring for her. When does she eat solid foods? When she stops drinking formula, what on earth do I feed her all day? How on earth do I clip these tiny fingernails? How many naps should she be taking? How much tummy time is enough?

Each new stage brought new questions. At some point after her teeth started coming in, I realized they wouldn’t just keep themselves healthy. Do I have to like, CLEAN these things??

I remember reading in a parenting magazine that once there are two teeth that touch, parents should floss their kids’ teeth daily.

HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

Have they met a baby? Better yet, have they ever met a TODDLER?

Needless to say, the flossing isn’t exactly going as the professionals recommend it should. However, we have tried to be pretty diligent about brushing my daughter’s teeth. She’s gone through phases of loving it and not loving it so much, but we’ve almost always been successful by making it a game or showing how daddy does it or something along those lines. Lately though, she will have none of it. If we even start to walk into the bathroom to brush her teeth she’ll flail and flop and fuss. When we try to actually put the toothbrush in her mouth it turns into a full-on meltdown. Some nights we give up and just let her “brush” her own teeth. Other nights we beg and try to make it fun. Last night my husband just held her arms while I tried to brush her little teeth as fast as my hand would go. Not pretty.

So now what? I’m hoping this is just a phase. I don’t want to give up brushing her teeth, because dental care is important. I want to establish healthy habits with her, and if I just give up because she puts up a fuss that will set a precedent for future tooth brushing and other issues I’m sure.

As a sidenote, some may argue that dental health doesn’t matter for little kids because they will just lose their teeth anyway. However, that isn’t true. If kids teeth rot and fall out too early, it could damage the development of their permanent teeth as well as their placement and overall health. Not to mention the importance of gum health, which they will carry all their lives.

So how do you get your toddlers to brush their teeth? Do you floss your kids’ teeth? If so, HOW? (I’m guessing you must be magic to get them to hold still!) What is your philosophy on the whole thing anyway? Advice is welcome.

Taming the beast

Rachel — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 18:51:36 +0000

There are a lot of words you could use to describe my husband: Competitive. Sentimental. Hard-working. Athletic. Fun. Soft-spoken.

CARNIVORE.

And not just as in “oh sure, a little grilled chicken would be nice.” I mean carnivore as in, “give me the biggest slab of prime rib you’ve got- and RARE!” We’re talking about the man that turned to me once and said, “I think ham is my 5th favorite meat.”

“You rank your meats?” I replied.

“Well, yeah. Don’t you?” he said innocently, as if it wasn’t bizarre to love meat so much that you classify them.

So when I read that one of the Eleven Miserly Guidelines was to cut back on meat I wanted to laugh. A big, hearty, YEAH RIGHT kind of laugh. HAHAHAHAHA!

But I remembered a while back I had proposed that we maybe institute a vegetarian night one night a week for health reasons, and he actually kind of agreed. It didn’t stick though. So this time I approached him with the argument that we really should try to be more veggie-lovin’ for the sake of our wallets. To which he gave a big, hearty laugh. He didn’t believe that forgoing meat occasionally would be cheaper. He has been under the incorrect assumption that centering meals around meat is less expensive, as long as you get the meat for a good price. However, really, meat ain’t cheap folks. Unless there’s a great sale. Overall though, cutting back on meats on a regular basis can do a lot for your budget.

I don’t really have anyone that I’m close to that is vegetarian, so I’m really quite stupid when it comes to how to go about this. One of my concerns was that many meatless dishes were very fattening, usually centering around some sort of cheesy pasta (yummy, but not healthy). That didn’t exactly seem like the right sort of trade off.

So since then I’ve been on the hunt for healthy, satisfying vegetarian recipes. Yesterday I made a sweet potato and black bean chili that was fabulous. Flavorful, filling, and super healthy. I doubled the recipe so we could have some for dinner, and then I froze the other half for a dinner later on.

Here’s the recipe if you want to give it a go (this is the original recipe. I doubled mine and made some changes to it which I will explain in just a sec):

Sweet Potato and Black Bean Chili

2 tsp extra virgin olive oil

1 small onion, finely diced

1 small sweet potato, peeled and diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

2 tsp ground cumin

1/4 tsp ground chipotle chili

1/8 tsp salt, or to taste

1 1/3 cups water

1 15-oz can black beans, rinsed

1 cup canned diced tomatoes (I like the petite diced tomatoes)

2 tsp lime juice

2 Tbsp chopped fresh cilantro

Heat oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add onion and potato and cook, stirring often, until onion is slightly softened, about 4 min. Add garlic, chili powder, cumin, chipotle, and salt and cook, stirring constantly, until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add water, bring to a simmer, cover, reduce heat to maintain gentle simmer and cook until potato is tender, 10-12 minutes. Add beans, tomatoes, and lime juice; increase heat to high and return to a simmer, stirring often. Reduce heat to maintain a simmer and cook until slightly reduced, about 4 min. Remove from heat and stir in cilantro.

So, my version was slightly different. I realized after I started cooking I didn’t have any chili powder, so I substituted it with some pork rub seasoning and I actually think it turned out better- a little sweeter and smokier, which we like. I also didn’t have any chipotle seasoning, which was fine. I added a dash of black pepper and seasoned salt as well as garlic salt, and I didn’t put in any lime (didn’t have any. I was rather ill-prepared). I served it with a little dollop of light sour cream. Delish! Husband even loved it!

Any vegetarians out there that have some good, healthy recipes? I’d love to learn more!

*Recipe from www.eatingwell.com

One step forward, two steps back

Rachel — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 18:46:23 +0000

Last week I briefly mentioned that in my quest to be more frugal, I was following the advice of the book and tackling my grocery bills. Oh, I so wanted to write a post on the beautiful, organized spreadsheet I had developed in order to compare prices. I wanted to talk about the shock I felt when I realized how much more money I was spending than I should have been. I had big dreams!

But then…we were struck with the thing that can bring a home with children to its knees: illness. With some pretty crappy timing too. Not that any time is particularly convenient to get sick, but still… The husband and I started school again and in an attempt to make our schedules work, coordinated a baby swap a few times a week with a neighbor also trying to finish school. In the midst of the craziness the husband and baby were hit with a doozy of a cold. That’s right, a DOOZY! Poor little Claire especially, and any parent knows that there is little worse than having a sick child.

My schedule for the last week basically looked like this:

4:02 AM- Baby crying, offer comfort.

4:37 AM- More crying, more bleary-eyed comfort offered.

5:15 AM- Baby too congested to sleep. Sit in rocking chair with baby to keep her upright and help her breathe.

6:20 AM- Crawl back into bed.

6:35 AM- Baby cries. Discover diaper leak, urine everywhere. Awesome. Baby in tub.

7:55 AM- Leave for school.

10:00 AM- Baby swap so husband can go to school. Tend to sick child.

10:12 AM- Wipe snot

10:23 AM- Wipe snot

10:37 AM- Restrain child in order to wipe snot

10:42 AM- Give up on keeping snot river under control and accept that everything will be covered in mucous for the next several days.

11:00 AM- Naptime!= homework time for mom

12:45 PM- Baby awake, wipe snot, lunch time, sick and tired husband comes home

1:15 PM- Work, work, work…

8:30 PM- get home, start getting baby ready for bed. Baby’s coughing fit induces BARFING. Baby in tub.

9:15 PM- baby finally asleep. Eat late dinner.

9:35 PM- Lapse into a coma from exhaustion

So! As you can see, there has been no time for organized spreadsheets or meal planning or even checking my email. Besides, had I even printed off one of those lovely spreadsheets I’m pretty sure it would be covered in snot.

Let’s hope this week runs a little more smoothly.

The thing about resolutions

Rachel — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 18:32:30 +0000

For me, and I’m sure many others, the hardest part of change is that first step. What is that principle I learned in physics so long ago? Something about an object being at rest requiring a lot of energy to get it moving or whatever? That could be totally wrong. Out of every subject I’ve ever taken in school, physics has been my most hated, so I did my best to think about it as little as possible. I think that’s pretty obvious now.

Anyway, one of my resolutions is to exercise more. This is important for a number of reason. Obviously, I want a long and healthy life and exercise plays a huge part in that. Secondly, exercise is wonderful stress relief, and I could use a whole lot more of that. Third, it increases my self-esteem and self-image and I could certainly use more of that too. Lastly, I need to lose some weight! Not a ton, maybe 10 pounds or so, but this extra jiggle has got to go!

The problem is I need to lose it soon. Why? Because I am going on a cruise in two months. That’s right, a glorious Caribbean cruise. 7 days of fun and relaxation with my man. And know what’s even better? It’s FREE!!! I won it from my work last summer. How freaking awesome is that? But if I’m really going to have a good time, I can’t be worrying about how my saddlebags look as I stroll along the beach.

The even bigger problem is that I seem to think that this 2 month time span is not actually two months but is an infinite time frame. So what if I never made it on the treadmill today, I have two months still! But pretty soon that two months will be two weeks and I will really start to panic. I tend to do this too often. I set a goal for myself and then give myself too much leeway if I don’t start to execute on it. This time though, the time frame is set. I guess it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I don’t reach my goal, but this is something I really want to do.

Last night, finally, I spent some time on the treadmill I got for Christmas. (See? I have my own treadmill, now I really don’t have any excuses!). And you know what? It felt great! I’m not in fantastic shape, but it felt so good to just be active. A lot of times I put off exercise because I’m too exhausted. Last night was another one of those nights. I was completely drained, achy, grumpy, and a little queasy. I thought there was no way I could find the strength to do anything but loaf on the couch. But you know, it’s true that exercise actually gives you more energy. Afterwards I felt great, no aches, no queasiness. I could feel the blood running through my veins and it felt good to be alive.

So why, after such an enlightening experience, is it so hard to get myself to do it again today???