The Fuzzball Chronicles: the Life and Times of Curly Mommy

I met with my counselor last night.  Yes, I'm in counseling.  We talked about the Thanksgiving holiday break, family stress, me not doing the assignments she gave me in our last session, and me having trouble starting tasks. In last month's session, I was supposed to drag out my Step 4 inventory and make a list of character defects.  I also agreed to exercise with my kids daily.  I fully intended to do the assignments, but didn't get very far.  I took out my inventory and begrudgingly thumbed through it, once.  I also took my kids on a bike ride to the park.  The trip to the park ended with a 45 minute tantrum by 4 year-old.  I didn't pick up the inventory or touch the bikes again. My reluctance starting tasks is rooted in my desire for perfection and completion.  If I cannot complete a project perfectly, I'd rather not try.  My mind is like a one way track--start at the beginning and ho...

Tonight I celebrated my sixth birthday.  Okay, not my sixth bellybutton birthday, but my sixth recovery birthday.  I received a bronze medallion with a big "VI" on it to mark the occasion.  The lesson tonight was about gratitude.  I am so grateful for Celebrate Recovery!

I made this cake in honor of my brother's graduation from medical school.  Congrats to Dr. Cabbagehead! I Heart Guts!

So, I signed up for daily Bible readings to be sent to me via email.  Part of my reading this morning was this: Then he touched their eyes and said, “According to your faith will it be done to you”;   and their sight was restored.  Matthew 9:29-30  NIV  A different version reads like this:  He touched their eyes and said, "Become what you believe." It happened. They saw.  Matthew 9:29-30 The Message I often struggle with what I believe.  Lord, help my unbelief, so I can become what you want me to be.

Tuesday evening I went to my Celebrate Recovery Leaders' Meeting. The fellowship was refreshing, but I was more than a little nervous and preoccupied by what I planned to do at that meeting. After the Ministry Leader spoke (a challenging and encouraging message) he opened the floor for questions and comments. After a while, I stood and announced to the group that I will no longer be a CR Leader, and will not be working in Celebration Station with the elementary age kids or in The Landing with the teens. I explained that I have lost myself in service. I have been placing everything else in front of my recovery, and that my relationship with God has suffered. I need to reboot. I received lots of hugs and encouragement when the meeting was over. This morning I got an email from the Leadership thanking me for my service and wishing me well as I work on my personal journey. There are no hard feelings, only love and support. One of the things I have been neglecting is jo...

I love my messy, broken friends who know that I am messy and broken too. It hurts when my friends do messy, broken, stupid things. I know it hurts my friends when I do messy, broken, stupid things too. I'm honored that my friends feel safe enough with me to be honest when they do messy, broken, stupid things. I'm grateful that I am learning stop before speaking harmful words when my friends do messy, broken, stupid things. I can't ignore the stupid, messy, broken actions. I have to confront the stupid, messy, broken things my friends do, in a healthy, healing way. I want my friends to accept that their stupid, messy, broken actions hurt me. I think it is reasonable that my friends will have to work to regain my trust after hurting me with stupid, messy, broken behavior. I am willing do to my part in maintaining healthy, healing relationships with my messy, broken friends. I hope that my friends will do their part in maintaining healthy, healing relationships with me, a me...

I had errands to take care of, so I told the kids to get their shoes on and go potty. Then it began. Baby Bee climbed Little Man's toy shelf and knocked over a box of Legos. Little Man yelled. She began to cry and morphed into a lump on the floor. A few moments later, I was brushing Tater's hair and trying to explain the importance of brushing ALL of the hair, not just the the hair in the front. Baby Bee walked into the room and started touching Tater's stuff. Tater yelled at her to get out. Again, she resembled a writhing blob on the floor. Next, I attempted to gently brush and pull Baby Bee's hair up so it wouldn't be in her eyes. She screamed the entire time. When I finished, she hid under a pillow on her bed. I opened the garage and told everyone to load up. Tater loaded. Little Man loaded. Baby Bee refused to move. When I moved the pillow, I noticed that Baby Bee had removed and disposed of her ponytail holder. Her chin-length bangs covered her eyes ...

I'm checking out friends' blogs, but I don't have anything interesting to say tonight. Yardboy just looked over my shoulder and said about me, "Oh, no! She's blogging! She must be pissed! Did I say that out loud?" Funny Yardboy. :)

A few days after returning from my mission trip (that was awesome) I had photo collage cards printed to use in thank you notes for my very generous supporters. Late last week, I purchased paper, envelopes, and printer ink and sat down to write my notes. I don't know why, but I just can't figure out what to say. I'll type up something and erase it. My words don't communicate the gratefulness I have for God and my supporters. Now I just have to put in on paper. Words, please come to me! So, I've been home from Guatemala since July 3. My guts finally decided to stop squirting, and then I got an unknown virus that kept me in bed for three days and made me feel like crap for another week, or so. I'm finally functional this week, but I can feel some sinus/lung trouble brewing. Ugh! This has to end! On the up-side, I'm not able to eat much without feeling crummy, so I'm not overeating. :) Maybe I can use this opportunity to train my mind and body to make...

I returned from Guatemala a week ago. The trip was amazing! We served 900 patients over five clinic days. All eleven of us contracted some sort of intestinal bug and no, we didn't drink the water. It is just one of those things that can happen when visiting the third world. Interestingly enough, I wasn't depressed while on the trip. There were times that I was lonely, sad, angry, tired, sick, nervous, or afraid, but most of the time I had a sense of peace and purpose. I missed my family immensely, and was ready to see them about half way through the nine day trip, but never felt depressed. Since coming home, I've been having a great deal of fibromyalgia pain, fatigue, and of course, there is that tummy issue and my period. Any of those alone can cause the dark cloud to come, so I guess it makes sense that I was down. Also, culture shock took its toll too. I am thankful that my lungs seem to be very happy, so breathing has not been a problem. I demanded very little...

After a long, busy Father's Day with my husband, dad, and father-in-law, I am tired. It is a good tired, and I enjoyed our family day. A little while ago, I took all of my allergy and asthma meds, helped Yardboy clean the clothes off of our bed, set the alarm, checked on the kids, brushed my teeth, washed my face, put my jammies on, rubbed lotion on my feet, kissed Yardboy goodnight, and donned my auto pap mask. The mask wasn't sealing right, so it made a whistling noise every time I inhaled. My left arm was going to sleep, my right hip hurt, Yardboy was snoring, my eyes would not stay shut, and my mind was racing. I quietly removed my stupid mask and got out of bed. One of the thoughts racing through my brain was about how I have a counseling session tomorrow night and I haven't journaled once since my last meeting weeks ago. I don't mind journaling. I even like it, once I get started. I just can't get started. There is always something more important, or int...

So, here I sit, shaking, tweeking like a meth addict, but it isn't meth. It is albuterol. I thought I could climb into bed and trick myself into thinking I was breathing well enough to sleep. No such luck. I used my nebulizer then tried to sleep again. Nope. It is hard to drift off when my pulse is pounding out of my head, chest, limbs... At least my wheezing is a little better and my chest and back don't hurt as much. I guess Yardboy couldn't sleep either. He asked if I felt like cuddling. I declined, though I really would love to be held by him. I'm on edge, and I just don't think I can stand being touched right now. This has been a crazy couple of weeks, and all of the days are beginning to run together. My brain is in a fog. Tuesday afternoon I used my new nebulizer and albuterol. It worked for a couple of hours, then the wheezing came back. I decided to go to the ER. I arrived at the ER around 7:00 and immediately got a chest x-ray. Thankfully, the images of my...

So, I called the Pulmonologist around 8:30 yesterday morning, in hopes of a same-day appointment. No such luck. The receptionist offered me a May 1 appointment and left a message for the nurse to call me back. At 10:20 I hadn't heard back from the nurse, so I called back. I was offered the same appointment and was told I could leave another message. I decided not to wait on the call and made an appointment with my primary doc. When I got to my primary, the nurse immediately gave me a breathing treatment which made a big difference in how I was feeling. I explained that I had been to Urgent Care the night before, that my pulmonologist couldn't see me, and that I needed a stronger prednisone script than the one prescribed at Urgent Care. My doctor ordered a test to check for laringopharangeal reflux (food and drink refluxing into the sinuses), wrote a script for 18 days worth of prednisone (ugh!), and ordered a home nebulizer. It seems that my doctor is really starting to listen ...

Wednesday was miserable. Along with sinus and lung problems, I was miserable with twitching, restlessness, tingling limbs, headache, dizziness, and the sense that the room was trembling, even though it know it wasn't. At 8:30 I called my doctor about the symptoms, but the receptionist failed to report it to the nurse. The nurse called be back fairly quickly after I called again around 11:30. My afternoon was spent reporting symptoms and waiting for the nurse to relay the questions to my doc then call me back. In the first of three calls she made to me, she told me that the doctor didn't think my symptoms were related to my new med and asked if I wanted a neurology referral. After I made it clear that I was not going to take the med that I felt was making me sick ever again, she said she would call a different antibiotic in to my pharmacy. Yardboy was really helpful. Even though he had a full and stressful day, he took time off to pick up Tater and Little Man. I was in no shape ...

Blah. I feel like trash. I'm in the middle of another episode of sinobronchitis. Another episode? Yes, I think it is about the tenth time since December '09, but really I've lost count. I've made multiple visits to my primary doctor, allergist, pulmonologist, ear-nose-throat specialist, and gastroenterologist. I've taken so many rounds of antibiotics and corticosteroids, that I've lost count on that too. Sometimes the meds work, but I often end up calling my doctors back to get something different. The problems always return within a few weeks. Yesterday, after a week of antibiotics that seemed to be helping, I called my primary doc to report that my symptoms had returned. He ordred a head CT and changed my antibiotic. I began the new antibiotic last night and it is making me feel really crummy. Now, in addition to sinobronchitis, I'm having neurologic side effects from my medicine. I called my doctor's office this morning to report my side effects. Now ...

On one Friday night a month I work with the youth at The Landing. The Landing is Celebrate Recovery's new program for middle and high schoolers . It is basically the regular CR program translated to teen speak. I get something out of it every week, and the last time was no exception. One of the questions was about what it would feel like to have to rely on someone else to save my life. Most of the kids' (and adults') answers related to fear and anxiety. My answer was different. I remembered back to the birth of my first child. We knew she was in danger, so the nurses and doctors from Newborn Intensive Care Unit were in the delivery room ready to take her. As soon as she was born she was intubated and suctioned to make sure she hadn't and didn't inhale the meconium she had passed before birth. It was only after they finished working on her, that she took her first breath. An hour or two later, I noticed that my nurse (who happened to be my best friend) seem...

Wow! It has been over a year since I posted anything. Blame Facebook , I guess. I visited some of the blogs I used to enjoy only to see that they too haven't been touched in some time. Oh well. I guess lives change and the need for getting things out online changes too. The kids are 8, 5, and 2. Yardboy is working the same job that he worked before. I'm still enjoying being an at-home mom. Life is good.

“Glory to God in highest heaven, and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.” Luke 2:14 Merry Christmas!

This morning an Episcopal priest named Becca Stevens came to our church and spoke about about two amazing ministries, Thistle Farms and Magdalene. She quoted her book, Find Your Way Home: Words from the Street, Wisdom from the Heart : The thistle blooms in streets and alleys where women walk and sleep. We spend a lot of time considering the thistle -- it's rough exterior, its soft and regal center, and its capacity to break through concrete to blossom. In a world that names weeds, we taste the riches of thistles and savor their beauty. We are thistle farmers. The world is our farm, and we harvest where other people do not want to travel. I was going to attempt to describe Thistle Farms and Magdalene on my own, but I'm sure they say it much better: Thistle Farms is a non-profit business run by women who have survived lives of violence, prostitution, and abuse. Thistle Farms products are hand-made by the very women they benefit. All proceeds go back into Thistle Farms and the r...

Can you believe it? My baby girl is a year old! Look at those cute little (sharp) teeth! We celebrated Baby Bee's special day with a pumpkin carving party. This spider was carved by a third grader. Impressive! We learned that jack-o-lanterns don't do well in wet 80 degree weather. They didn't make it to Halloween. Yuck! This is the chocolate pumpkin smash cake I made for Baby Bee. I made one just like it for my dad. His birthday was the next day. Chocolate and coffee cake with milk chocolate ganache and buttercream frosting. The pumpkins are covered with chocolate poured fondant. The sweetest little pumpkin, ever.