You guys, today is my ten year anniversary at Fluid Pudding. Ten years. (This is where we started.) I wanted to do something really meaningful to celebrate a decade with you. Artistic nude photo? Yes! (No.) Video blog? My awkwardness is contagious! You didn’t come here to squirm! At the last minute, I decided to celebrate by creating something that I love.
I love burritos.
I took two slices of Muenster cheese and placed them (lovingly) on a Flatout. (When I SEE Flatout, I think “PHLAT out”. When I SAY Flatout, I say, “phlah TOOT.”)
I then sliced a SweeTango and placed the slices (passionately) on top of the cheese.
Finally, I rolled it up (as you do) and ate it.
Ten years. Some of you have been with me since before I was married.
You stuck with me during both pregnancies.
And both births.
You listened to me sing.
You dealt with my headaches and my eczema.
You don’t laugh when I fall down. You humor me when I knit stuff and when I sing songs about cake balls and when I make my dogs lick your face and when I stuff my own face with marshmallows.
You always make me feel like I’m exactly where I should be.
You know about Little Debbie Oatmeal Pies, right? Get this. I just learned that you can make oatmeal pie balls by smooshing up Little Debbie Oatmeal Pies, rolling them into balls, and dipping them.
They look just like cake balls on the outside, but when you bite into them, you are right back in elementary school and it’s snowing outside and your mom has a roast in the oven and Christmas is right around the corner.
They’re magical. And they take less than an hour to put together. And you don’t have to bake a cake. You don’t have to bake anything!
Instead of doing a giveaway for my ten year Fluid Pudding anniversary, I’d like to ask you to do something for me. Would you please leave a comment below so I know you’re still with me? I wouldn’t be here without you, you know.
The traditional ten year anniversary gift is tin. For that reason, I dedicate this song to you.
(I know.)
Thank you for sticking around. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
So, it has been nearly two months since I told my doctor I was going to do a Couch to 5K program. School started, and I didn’t get off of the couch. I used my surgery as an excuse to stay on the couch a little longer. Then I got a cold. It’s difficult to run when you’re on the couch with a cold. (I’ve got the couch part down. Funny how I think about running only when it’s impossible for me to run. “Tra la la. I should be running, but it’s tricky when the anesthesia is wearing off, so here I lie. Fiddle dee dee!”)
My sister is a runner. When I told her that I was toying with the idea of running, she started calling to encourage me to put my shoes on.
Jen: So. How’s the running going?
Me: Well, I’ve got that surgery in two weeks and right now I need to shave these legs of mine and…
Jen: Ang. I think you’re okay to get started.
Me: I can’t hear you.
I set my start date for Tuesday. The day after Labor Day. My running day. Yes. Tuesday. And then I had to take Henry to the vet and get through some paperwork for school and figure out what I was going to wear for a meeting, and damnit. I finally reached the point where I was getting sick of my own excuses. SO, I watched this video again.
(It makes me cry Every Time I Watch It. I’ve watched My 120 Pound Journey about 25 times now, and I can barely think about it without my lip quivering. The most recent Shrek movie made me cry. Glee does it to me fairly often. Toy Story 3? I was a mess. I have no idea what’s happening over here.)
Yesterday morning I got out of the shower and put my “running” shorts on. I call them running shorts because they’re slippery. I then reached into my Drawer o’ Underpants and pulled out two sports bras. The first one was a nursing bra that was purchased to hold my lactaters back, and it always seemed to come unhooked at unfortunate times. (This is not an option at the track.) The second one? I purchased it during my sophomore year in college. Because I was really getting into the Jane Fonda workout. The year was 1990. My sports bra is 21 years old, and I am no longer the same shape that I was when I was 20, but I didn’t let that stop me. I wrestled myself into the thing and immediately felt an uncomfortable tightness in my chest. (I then said a little prayer that the bra would be the ONLY cause of tightness in my chest.)
Confession: When I think about running, I am terrified of two things: 1. That my heart will explode. 2. That I will pee myself.
I found my athletic shoes, loaded my running app onto the iPod, ate a banana while telling myself that the extra potassium will hug my heart and prevent it from exploding, and drove to the gym.
The first thing the app does is choose a tune from your iPod. Then it says something like, “Ding! Walk!” So, I walked. And as I walked, I watched the program count down to my first sixty seconds of Run. And when I had less than ten seconds to go before Run, I started freaking out. It’s happening. It’s happening.
Three.
Two.
One.
“Ding! Run!”
I took off running like someone was chasing me, and it didn’t take long before I realized that I didn’t really know how to handle running. Three other people (who knew what they were doing, as evidenced by their cute running clothes) were running, and if I would have kept up at my “Someone is CHASING ME HOLY CRAP!” pace, I would have lapped them repeatedly. I slowed down to a jog and immediately felt a lot less frantic. “Ding! Walk!” Yes.
Because I’m a huge fan of experimentation, every time I got the “Ding! Run!” I practiced a new style of running in order to figure out what was the most comfortable. Do I use my heels? Do I run on the balls of my feet? Do I kick my legs backward? I tried everything, and sadly, I never found a style that felt right. (I *do* know that the heel-to-toe method felt very wrong.) If anyone was watching me, I’m sure I provided great entertainment as I sweated and panted and snorted and hopped and repeatedly replaced the ear buds that kept falling out of my ears.
When I noticed that I had only one more run followed by a five minute cool down walk, I got really excited to hear if I would be congratulated when the workout was over. I ran a little faster. I walked with a bit more bounce. And then the vocal track went out on my iPod, and I immediately knew that I was having a stroke. I was sweaty, my right leg felt like it was about to separate itself from my torso, I was seeing a few spots before my eyes, and I could no longer hear Cee Lo Green. It’s all over.
And then it WAS all over. Week One, Day One. Completed.
Tomorrow is Week One, Day Two. And just typing that makes it seem like a plan. I just need to figure out HOW to run. (Do you use your heels? Do you kick your legs up? I would hate to think that I’m running the exact way that will surely lead to a heart explosion or a bladder failure…)
Jeff came home early from work last Tuesday because he had a terrible cold. He’s not one to jump the gun on sick days, so it really surprised me when he stayed home on Wednesday, too. On Thursday, when I started feeling heaviness in my head, I was So Angry. Friday found me home alone with the animals, who were not happy to see me cocooned in my robe on the couch sneezing and coughing and drinking hot tea and yelling things like “Jeff! Why did you DO this to ME-HE-He-he?!”
Yes. This is all about me having a little cold. Intriguing! I really need to start planning some adventures. Know that I know that.
Side note: I hate taking cold medicine. I hate the hungover feeling that comes with it. I would rather not take anything and suffer through the symptoms than swallow a pill that makes me feel hazy. On Friday afternoon, I raided our medicine cabinet for cold medicine. I could NOT fight this without help. The cabinet was empty. (It’s actually pretty full—of nail polish and magnesium supplements and some weird gauze thing and pain pills that expired back in 1996.) I called Jeff and asked him to stop by Walgreens and get something for me.
Jeff: What do you need?
Me: EDDIEDING DAT WILL BAKE BE FEEL BEDDAH!!!
Thirty minutes later, he arrived with Pretzel M&M’s, a dark chocolate Milky Way, a Twix, and some sort of Three Musketeers wafer thing. (He knows me so well.)
Another side note: A friend of mine knew that I was feeling punky, and she delivered Delhi’s Chaat (#30 on the menu) to me earlier in the day. I am terribly lucky to have people who get my need for chocolate and Indian food.
I spent most of Saturday in my bed and on the couch. I found that it helped a bit to stand up and scream, “I’m MISERABLE!” for anyone who might be interested. (Not many were interested.) I have no idea where Sunday went. I honestly have no memory of Sunday. I turned a corner yesterday morning, and celebrated by juicing carrots, a beet, and some ginger. It was terrible. I then juiced an apple and mixed it in, which took it from a level of Terrible 8 to Terrible 3. Drinkable. (I’m really trying to not be afraid of my juicer.)
Today is Tuesday. I have an itchy dog, and it appears that my cold is 89% gone.
(Thanks for all of the itchy dog suggestions, by the way. He has now been on the prescription food and the flea pills for four days, and he’s scratching more than ever. Although his follow-up appointment isn’t until Thursday, I’m going to try to get him in this morning.)
((Also, Scout got her first all-over groom on Saturday morning. She’s now clean, fluffy, and proud.))
(((Oh! I met with the principal last week about Regina and The Sex Girls (I know. Awesome band name.), and without missing a beat, he came up with a perfect solution. All is well.))) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
When we got Henry (nearly three weeks ago!), he was on post-neuter antibiotics, and he was itchy. At his post-surgery vet appointment, the veterinarian determined that he had some sort of skin infection. We switched him to an antibiotic that was more skin-specific, and we tried some medicated baths. The itchiness actually got worse after the baths, so we dropped the medicated soap and went with oatmeal baths and perfume-free (and alcohol-free) baby wipes. The itchiness got a bit better, but became worse again when the antibiotics ran out. We started him on a very low-dose steroid. The itchiness got a bit better, but became worse again when we started weaning him. (He has tested negative for mites.)
We are now going to see if he could be allergic to his food (Blue Buffalo Puppy Food). Starting this afternoon, we’ll be giving him a prescription food along with Capstar to see if it’s a flea allergy. If that doesn’t help, I may have to take all four of my pets to the vet every two weeks for three shot-in-the-dark mite treatments. (We’re all hoping it doesn’t come down to that, as I don’t have enough Xanax for a four pet injection adventure.)
I know most of you are bored with this information, but I wanted to throw it out there just in case we’re missing something obvious. (He’s current on his heartworm preventative. He’s current on all of his vaccinations. He’s cute as a bug’s ear, and he lets me hold him in my lap like a baby.)
Thanks to each and every one of you for your words of advice and/or encouragement yesterday. Last night Meredith took me aside and said, “You know how the TSG club stood for The Shady Girls? Today Regina decided to change the S. The club is now The Sex Girls.” Jeff and I agreed that a line had been crossed. I’m meeting with the principal tomorrow morning to have the most awkward conversation I hope to EVER have with an elementary school principal. Thank God he’s nice. And sane. And doesn’t seem like one who would support a third grade club for sex girls. (Tonight, as I wander in the Land of Nod, Fluid Pudding will receive 35,493 hits from people who were definitely not looking for photos of yarn. However, buckle up. I’m about to tell you about last week’s trip to Illinois.)
On Friday morning, my mom and I picked Tempe up at 5:00 and the three of us made our annual trip to Schaumburg, Illinois for Stitches Midwest. This was our fifth year, and it did not disappoint. When we first attended Stitches back in 2007, I came back with nothing but sock yarn.
In 2008, I purchased the supplies to make this sweater:
In 2009, I fell in love with this sweater:
Yeah. It’s not really finished, is it? I’m hoping to change that sometime in 2012.
Last year we decided to skip Stitches and go to Memphis. Graceland was very good. The yarn stores? Not so much.
This year, my only plan was to get some fiber. And I did.
This Jimmy Durante lookalike is actually a pound of BFL/Tussah Silk fiber. It’s the first purchase I made at Stitches, and if all goes according to plan, it will eventually be spun and knit into a sweater. After I achieve this goal, I will surely feel invincible.
All of these were purchased from Lisa Souza, who is sort of a rock star. She was one of the nicest and most interesting people we met at Stitches, which is definitely a thing because I now want to devote a shelf in our office to Lisa Souza fiber.
When we went back to the market to kill a bit of time before the drive home on Saturday, I accidentally bought two sweater kits.
This one will be my everyday cardigan (brown! with pockets!) for this winter.
This one will be my snazzified artsy meets swanky sweater.
This is the stuff that happens at Stitches, and this is why I love going there. Sadly, only 17% of you really understand how jazzed I am right now about my loot.
May I say something that just might jazz an additional 38% of you?
Do you remember Aaron’s bike? I am pleased to report that the money is in. The bike has been ordered. Aaron will have his bike, and I couldn’t be more excited. Thanks once again for your support! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
Last week Meredith and I started a Mom & Me journal, and it’s turning out to be the greatest thing we’ve ever done. Because it’s a secret from the rest of our family, we decided that our code word is Pancakes. When she is finished writing in the journal, she places it under my pillow and somehow works Pancakes into our conversation. When I’m done writing on my side, I place the journal under her pillow and do the same. My hope is that this will serve as a vehicle for conversations that might be too difficult to have in person, as well as ease the embarrassment of the tricky conversations that we need to have face to face. Obviously, I’m not going to share what we’ve written so far. All I’ll say is this: It’s Very Good.
On a related note, a monumental change has taken place in my parenting philosophy. (Read that sentence again while picturing this version of me. It’s much less wearisome that way, no?) I have always encouraged my girls to be friends with everyone. “It’s good to have some close friends, but it’s also good to be friendly! That’s how you learn about other kids! You don’t have to play with the same group every day. Shake it up! It helps you learn who you are!”
No more. NO MORE! Meredith is “friends” with a girl in her class whose main purpose seems to be making other girls feel badly about themselves. This girl (shall we call her Regina George?) repeatedly tells Meredith that she doesn’t like Meredith’s clothes. Yesterday Regina George made fun of Meredith’s clothes until Meredith reached the level of anxiety where she couldn’t wait to come home and change OUT of those clothes. Regina George has started a club called The Shady Girls, where she requires the girls to wear certain colors and devote their recess to playing tether ball. (I know. I don’t know.)
I asked Meredith if she knows what Shady means.
Meredith: Like when it’s sunny outside, and you make the choice to hang out under a tree?
Me: Metaphorically, yes. But I have a funny feeling The Shady Girls don’t prefer to actually hang out in the shade. It’s about maybe being a little dishonest. Maybe being a little mean. It’s not necessarily a good thing.
Meredith: Regina George is mean.
According to Meredith, if Regina George gets angry during class, she has been known to yell, throw things, and curl up into a ball.
Okay. Let me say that again. According to Meredith, if Regina George gets angry during class, she has been known to yell, throw things, and curl up into a ball. To me, this means Regina George has some issues, and probably really NEEDS a friend, right? If the girl has to create clubs to have other girls hang out with her, she has some stuff going on, right? Right? Because of that, it hurts my heart (figuratively!) to ask Meredith to leave The Shady Girls, but that’s exactly what I did. Meredith has had a terrible relationship with this girl for over three years. Meredith has come home crying more than once because of things this girl has said to her. The last thing Meredith needs is to feel badly about herself at age eight. (At age six? The girl broke Meredith’s glasses. Oh my goodness, people!)
I’m a bit conflicted, because as I mentioned earlier, I’ve always encouraged the girls to try and be friends with EVERYONE. BUT, at this stage, I would be much happier seeing Meredith make a connection with some girls who exhibit kindness and curiosity and intelligence, perhaps with a love of American Girl stuff and Big Time Rush sprinkled in. (I’m not saying that the girl in question is lacking in those areas. I’m just saying that Meredith has been fairly miserable striving to “turn things around” with Regina.)
I’m trying to remember what it was like for me in the third grade. It was the year that Mrs. Barker read “Island of the Blue Dolphins” to our class. I don’t recall anyone being mean. Then again, that was many many years ago (over thirty years ago! Holy crap!) — before hormones in milk and rude kids on television. And padded bras in kid clothing stores. And raunchy magazines in every checkout lane at the grocery store. Oh, internet. This is a tough one. Have any of you dealt with this? By encouraging Meredith to gently leave the group, am I encouraging her to turn her back on someone who probably needs some help? Then again, Meredith has been reaching out for three years, and it’s totally killing her joy.
Please know that I have never said anything bad about Regina George in front of Meredith. The closest I came was this morning when I said, “Meredith, sometimes people who are unhappy actually feel a bit happier when they make other people feel unhappy, too.”
Today I shall get a haircut. This has nothing to do with anything. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
The following post is part of the DailyBuzz Moms Tastemaker program in partnership with Clorox.
Every year when August rolls around, I feel the excitement that most people feel at the end of December. To me, a new school year means a New Beginning. As I pack the kids’ backpacks with their school supplies, I start making mental lists of all of the things I’m going to do differently this year.
The list always includes the following items:
1. Eat healthier
2. Clean the house
3. Figure out my hair
The list also tends to include things like:
1. Figure out quinoa once and for all!!!
2. Start taking vitamins. (Bottle already in cabinet. Check expiration date.)
3. Calcium supplements?!
This year I’m pleased to report that with the help of DailyBuzz Moms and Clorox®, I was able to hit the ground running with my goals of eating healthy and cleaning the house! A few days back, I received the following items in the mail:
What you see here probably looks familiar. We have Clorox® Disinfecting Wipes, Glad® To Go Lunch containers, and a Brita® Bottle Water Filtration System.
The Clorox® wipes have become a staple in our house, as well as in the girls’ school. (Every year without fail, Clorox® wipes are included on the classroom supply list.) I use them to wipe off the counter tops, the inside of the sink, and the top of the toilet. (I would wash my face with them if I could. As you know, they smell great.)
We’ve been using (and reusing) Glad® containers forever, but I had no idea that the To Go Lunch containers existed! They’re smart, because they have a 1.5 oz. cup that snaps into the lid.
That cup can hold salad dressing, hummus, olive oil, or even chocolate syrup! The possibilities are endless, really. (I like to stuff my cup with mixed nuts, as I tend to crave protein after I eat a big bowl of fruit!)
The final item in the package is my new favorite thing. If you know me at all, you know that I’m constantly carrying around a container of water. I’m not a big fan of plastic water bottles, but I *am* a big fan of Good Water. Because our tap water is drinkable, I tend to fill one of our many dishwasher-safe reusable cups every time I leave the house, and I’ll spend most of the day drinking from it. Admittedly, the water tends to taste a bit stale by the end of the day, which is a bummer, but worse things could happen, right? Anyway, when I opened up the Brita® Bottle Water Filtration System, I immediately knew I was going to put it to the test to see if it keeps the End of the Day Stale Water Thing (EotDSWT) under control.
This morning I cleaned out the bottle, filled it up with water from our tap, and when I took a drink I noticed that the water was tasting better than our tap water. The Brita® filter? It works. Best of all, a few hours later I took a drink and there was zero hint of Stale. Success. I love this water bottle. (The only thing I don’t love is that it has a spout on the top. I need to learn how to drink from a spout without spilling all over myself. I’ve heard that practice makes perfect.)
I’m beyond thrilled with the items from DailyBuzz Moms and The Clorox Company. (I still need help with the hair/quinoa/vitamin thing, but those things can wait as I pack my healthy snack on my clean counter tops!) By the way, because I know you guys are brilliant, I would love to hear what kind of things you would put in the 1.5 oz. cup that comes with the Glad® To Go Lunch containers! Let’s brainstorm! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
Despite some fairly minor glitches, the tying of the tubes was a success!
Glitch #1: Everyone I talked to at the hospital seemed a bit worried to hear that I was on a solo mission. Jeff dropped me off at 6:00, and planned on being back by 8:15. The surgery was scheduled for 8:00, and normally takes about 45 minutes to complete. In the pre-op prep area, I was surrounded by people headed off to Major surgery, and they were surrounded by family and friends. I brought my knitting. Minds were boggled.
Glitch #2: I was handed a plastic cup and a vial. I was told to pee in the cup and pour it into the vial. The vial did not have a flat bottom, so the entire process became an exercise in problem solving. If I pour the pee into the vial before I wash my hands, I’ll have to continue to hold the vial, making hand washing impossible, which is unacceptable. If I wash my hands and THEN pour the pee into the vial, I’ll probably want to wash my hands again. I refuse to turn my face toward the sky with the vial in my mouth. Wait. What would MacGyver do? I peed into the cup, washed my hands, poured the pee into the vial, CAREFULLY tucked the vial behind the elastic band of my underpants, washed my hands again, grabbed the vial with my towel, and journeyed back to the nursing station feeling very proud of myself.
Nurse: Oh! Where’s the lid for the vial?
Me: There was no lid.
Nurse: Are you sure there wasn’t a lid?
Me: Believe me. There was no lid.
Glitch #3: The computer crashed twice as the nurse tried to enter my information.
Me: Do you think this means I really AM supposed to have another baby?
Nurse: What?
Me: Nothing.
Glitch #4: My surgeon ran into traffic and the nurses were freaking out on the fact that it was surgery time! But no surgeon! When she did show up, she was wearing a really amazing skirt that she scored for three dollars at Macy’s. (I love my doctor.)
Glitch #5: Endometriosis. Who knew? Apparently, it was a mild case, and my doctor was able to remove it. (Did you know that endometriosis may cause headaches? I’m feeling sort of optimistic about the endometriosis/headache connection!)
Hey, look! It’s me! Drunk on narcotics/anesthesia, yet still wanting you to give peace a chance!
Glitch #6: I was unable to see straight for about 48 hours after the surgery. I believe I can blame the anti-nausea patch the anesthesiologist placed behind my ear. That little patch was pretty incredible. The Not Being Able to See thing was NOT so incredible, as it made knitting/reading/watching television impossible.
Jeff and the girls let me spend most of the weekend in bed.
My parents delivered a huge box of peaches.
Henry and Scout became friends.
And today, because I’m still not feeling up for driving, I’m knitting a pumpkin hat for an autumnal baby.
Here is an actual ultrasound taken of my pelvic area earlier this morning.
If you go back in time to your most recent anatomy class, you’ll realize that you are pleased to be at my cervix! Get it?! HA HA HA! Anyway, here we see my fallopian tubes, a couple of good looking ovaries, a uterus complete with endometrium, and various other parts that make up my reproductive system. (I don’t want to use the V word, because I would hate for someone to Google something that isn’t available here. In my mind, folks with questionable intentions will not be searching out “uterus complete with endometrium.” I’ve been wrong before…)
The next time you see me, my innards are going to look a little more like this:
Pretty! Yes. Tomorrow morning at approximately 8:00, my doctor will be slicing tiny holes into my abdomen, grabbing my fallopian tubes, and tying them into what I assume will be a decorative organ bow! (I bet Martha Stewart’s tubes are tied.) I’m not quite sure what to expect other than approximately three days of discomfort, but I AM hoping that my memory improves after surgery.
Because, look closely.
I think you know what I’m saying. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
I really can’t let a first day of school go by without sharing the photos.
And, look. I even made them hug.
(It took about 25 failed shots to get one hug photo in which both girls look at least partially happy. “Keep hugging! No! We’re not there yet! Hug! Happy hugs! Hu-uh-uhg!”)
