A quick update about TJ….
Back in October our son TJ presented with a swollen knee. We have run the gauntlet with this kid, doctors, testing and diagnoses. After a misdiagnosis of Rheumatic Fever, he has been seen by a number of specialists at Emory Children’s and the results are in…. sort of.
We know for sure that this is NOT post strep arthritis. With the MRI in hand, as well as ALLLLLL of the appointments between October and now it is clear to everybody and their brother that this isn’t a sprain or an angry knee, or some silly childhood injury. So, that leaves us to believe that this is Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis and/or (depending on who you speak to and their views of the two/one) Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis.
So we have a name, or a few names to put on this knee. But the best news I can share with you is that since we saw the rheumatologist 2 weeks ago, TJ has been on Alieve twice a day and the swelling in his knee is actually down quite a bit right now. In the past it has gone down and swelled up again, but right now, today… right this second it looks GOOD! We don’t care what you call it.
TJ will see the rheumatologist again in February and hopefully we will be able to wean him off of the NSAIDS for a little while, to give his tummy a break.
Gosh I can’t wait to see what 2012 has in store for us!!
So here I stand…
I have started this post and deleted it time and again. I don’t have direction or intent. What do I want to write about? What do I have to share? Where have I been? What am I doing? How is life according to weight loss surgery? Does weight loss surgery even play as much of a role in my life as it did a few months ago? Am I once again redefining normal and redefining who I am? It seems I am.
I have made a conscious effort to disengage from facebook a bit, as I think being as deeply involved with it as I was, changed my perspective on a lot of things. So, cross addictions being what they are… I have found Pinterest and let me just tell you… I AM THE BIGGEST PIN HEAD OF THEM ALL! I’ve been dubbed “pin head” by the beloved Haven of http://www.blessmysouthernheart.com
Pinterest is inspirational for me. I sat there for a few days WISHING I could do a lot of the things I was seeing. Wishing I could have a lot of the things I saw. And then I asked myself why I was wishing and not doing? How much of my life had I sat on my ass wishing? This past year was all about doing! So, I started to do.
First I started cooking better for my family. HOLY MOLY, pinterest has some awesome crock pot savvy meals! I was cooking up so much that my mommy and daddy bought me a new crock pot and two AWESOME cook books to go with it!
Next I decided to tackle the house. Here is where I have to explain a little. Having four children in a very tight age group, I have always said that my house is my children’s home. 
I was never one to apologize for the toys and chaos strewn about. I have never been one to want my children playing in their rooms. I have wanted them on the same floor I was on. I needed to hover, they were/are/always will be devious little monsters who get into things you can’t even begin to imagine. Anyway, I digress…. they are now of an age, where I can allow them to be out of sight, and also expect them to be responsible for their own belongings. With that in mind, I decided to start reclaiming my home. Toys were evicted from the front parlor room, formerly known as the toy room and now known as the Christmas tree room, soon to be known as Momma’s space. My husband’s love of junk mail clutter was evicted from my kitchen. All clutter was evicted from the kitchen. The dining room was also taken over by the crazy woman who possessed the momma. And son on and so forth.
Finally, I found myself admiring doodle art. I was spending hours upon hours of time looking at people’s doodles. I learned that there are names to certain types of doodles like zendoodle and line weaving. zensplosions and zenspirations. Seeing the word “zen” attached to the doodles made me reflect a bit. When I was young there was no surface that was safe from me. Oh my mother would get so angry with me as I would color in the squares of plaid school uniform, write on the rubber sole of my shoes, draw on my jeans. I loved the feel of a roller pen on recycled paper, and the feel of a marker on a new vinyl binder. I loved the way a paper bag sucked in the ink of a sharpie marker. The sensory satisfaction I got from doodling made me content! But, it was just doodles. It wasn’t artistic. It was mindless, scribbles that felt good. hearts and circles, and hearts and clouds. Bubble letters and typical teenage angst crap. You know the type.
I got my very first journal a few days before Christmas. First I played with the back cover, then the back page. Eventually I moved on with a little confidence to do a whole page, and I completed it, then I completed my second and now I’m onto my third. I’m developing my own ways. I put pen to paper with no idea of whats going to come of it and by the end it just ends up as it is.
My doctor told me a while ago that I needed to find a way to silence my mind. To just relax and unwind, stop over thinking and just be free. I don’t really know how to free my mind, but I think that with pen and paper in hand I’m pretty close to figuring it out.
So this is where I am, this is where I stand. I’m holed up in my house, being anti social, reclaiming my life, being stingy and selfish and loving it.
Tis the season… for mixed emotions.
I have a hard time this time of year. Its not because its winter. or because its the holidays. 9 years ago I was pregnant with my second child. In November we went for our usual level II sonogram to check the growth and health of the baby, and it was then that we learned that out precious baby girl had so very many different birth defects. We were given terms like “incompatible with life” and “critical anomalies”. Our son was only 9 months old, and it was his 1st Christmas. Our world was spiraling. Here we were debating the fate of our unborn child, as the doctors pushed termination, and still needing to celebrate baby’s first Christmas.
I was in Harrows, a pool store by summer and a Christmas store by winter, walking the aisles in search of decor and a tree to make my home festive for my 9 month old son. Christmas music was blaring, and my heart was breaking. I called my mom on my cell phone and I fell to pieces. “Mommy, I need you. I need you to be here. I need you to help me. I can’t do this. I can’t. I just can’t find joy.” In the middle of trees and lights, I had the saddest breakdown and I simply needed my mommy.
Fast forward to today. Its Christmas time, and I have 4 beautiful children. Kailey, that baby who was “incompatible with life” is 8 years old. She fights a good fight year after year, as does the rest of our family… because this is our life. But every time I walk through a store filled with Christmas trees, lights and Christmas music, I feel despair. Helplessness, a vast disjointed vacancy to joy. I fight to play Happy Holidays, even though I have everything to celebrate. This my friends is the misery that is post traumatic stress disorder.
The months and years after Kailey’s birth changed my relationships with friends and people in general. I have become more closed off and I have become more guarded. People have a difficult time knowing how to be a part of your life, when you can’t answer the question “But shes going to be alright now, right?” with the words they want to hear. It is not anybody’s fault. People want children to be healthy and happy. It is unnatural for a child to be sickly, for a child to have to face the possibility of death. And I can’t blame people for being uncomfortable or incapable of being a part of our every day, because it isn’t easy seeing a sick child go from being strong and happy one day, to hospitalized and weak the next.
And so, it is the season that I pull back from the people who are always present in my life. I don’t know if I’m giving them a chance to scoot away or if its just that I need this time to be alone. But this is what I do. I pull back, a lot! Year after year, I’m rewarded to find that the people I love the most are always waiting for me.
I haven’t written in a while. I have been attempting new ways of working through the PTSD. I have been reclaiming my home, putting the kid’s things in the kid’s rooms and making the living spaces liveable! I have been trying out new recipes in the kitchen, ones that work well with WLS and with children. I have been searching for ways to inspire myself, to be creative, to let my soul sooth itself. Surely healing has to come, eventually, doesn’t it?
I have to confess to Christmas cookie loving. A little too much. Damn the cookies! The cookies and the scale do not agree with each other. Mind you I don’t have hunger, but I do graze! I know it, I need to cut it the hell out! Letter to myself… dear Michelle… CUT IT THE FUCK OUT! Love Michelle.
My other confession is that I may or may not be a 36 year old Groupie. Yes, you heard me! If I had the funds to go to this: http://www.kreweofrocckus.com/eng/ I totally would be there. Meanwhile, I am looking forward to these guys playing (hopefully… in the ATL area) http://thesweetteaproject.com/, and I have attended 2 shows in the past two months where I have taken more photos with one man than I have with my own husband in the same time period. Thats all I’ll say on that matter. Music calms the savage beast. Music makes me dance. Great music, written by incredible artists, performed by people who are sincerely endearing… well… its the whole package and I’m hooked! I’m sorry to these guys, that their groupies are not hot 20 year old chicks but rather moms with carseats in their trucks. But what ever! LOL
I’ve broken all kinds of blogger rules here. This is all over the place, too many words, no real point, not a lot of photos and probably won’t hold your interest. But here it is anyway. I needed to blog, it was a goal I set for myself and damn it… I did it! Love to you all. Thanks for hanging with me. It means everything!
The Breakfast Of Champions (sort of)
My mommy and daddy read my blog (hooray) and realized that I actually USE my crock pot, so they upgraded me to a brand new Kitchen Aid Crock Pot. It was love at first sight. I squealed! I ooohed and Ahhhhed and OHHH pretty! It came at 4PM. I HAD to use it right away! I was itching to! So, I figured crock pot oatmeal would be a brilliant idea!
In the past I’ve made crock pot Steel Cut Oats. I’ve made them in the crock pot over night and they’ve been sticky and brown, I’ve made them in a bowl with in the crock pot and that worked well, but they were too watery. Last night I knew I wanted to do the bowl with in the crock pot method but straight water wasn’t going to do it. I had little milk (BAD MOM!), but I had half and half (REALLY BAD MOM! Always prepared for coffee, not so much for kids!). If I had SILK I would have used that. If I had enough 1% milk I’d have used that. But I had half & half and damn it I’m GLAD I did! It was DELICIOUS!
MY INGREDIENTS: 1 cup steel cut oats (AKA Irish Oatmeal), 2 cups half and half, 2.5 cups water. A pinch of sea salt. Brown sugar to taste (I don’t use much at all, I prefer to let everybody make it as they like it later), vanilla extract to taste (about 2tsp), cinnamon to taste (i like a lot!). Mix it all together in a bowel that will fit with in your crock pot. Put some water in your crock pot, place bowl of oatmeal mixture in croack pot, fill crock pot with water up to the top sides of your bowl, cover and cook on low for 9 hours.
Wake up to a bowl of beautiful oatmeal, dress as desired. TJ likes his with strawberries and sugar. I like mine with blackberries and almonds, Kailey likes hers with pure maple syrup, little Kevin likes brown sugar & a variety of berries, big Kev likes his plain with some splenda, and Alison is simply not touching “that stuffs”
I loved this crock pot so much that my split chicken thighs are in there right now! Dinner is about to be served. I’ve been cleaning and loving my house all day and I’ve not had to worry a damn about whats for dinner! I LOVE IT!
My Dining Room, A Gift to Myself.
Today was the first day that the house has been silent in weeks. My husband was off at a sleep study, the 3 oldest beastlings were off at school, the youngest keeps herself busy with writing, coloring, singing, dancing and the computer. It took a while for me to wake from my stupor. To stretch my legs, and move around. It took a while for me to start to reclaim my space and to realize how much crap has taken it over.
Every home has places that clutter gathers. Every home has its little corner of shame. MY home, with 4 kids, a Saint Bernard, a big man and myself has many surfaces that tend to be taken over. But there are places that are usually sacred “momma’s spot” places, and they were gone today. So, rather than reclaiming my usual spots, I decided its time to reclaim my home. One room at a time, this place will be mine damn it!
My dining room is always the place where everything gets tossed. Kids walk in the door and book bags go to the dining room table. Mother in law comes over, pocket book, bags, what ever she brings for the kids… dinging room table. Art projects.. dining room table. Mail, dining room table (sometimes). Currently there are 4 very large boxes of medical supplies in the doorway of the dining room, stacked two high and two wide. Each the height of the oldest child. Its ridiculous. Granted, the garage is chock full of similar boxes with the same products, and they are heavy and I am the only one in the house who can carry them at the moment. So, yeah its my fault they’re there. But I digress. The dining room, has always been abused and it is in need of some love and attention. I know that if I love it, it will love me back. So, today I started with clearing the clutter off of the table, and sweeping the dust from beneath it. I placed a new table cloth on the table and threw away a bunch of stuff that needed to be tossed away. Tomorrow I will make room in the garage for the supplies (I need to marry some boxes), and carry on with the task at hand. From there my work will carry over to the kitchen and the clutter there!
Room by room, bit by bit… this house will become what I want it to be!
I have my timer, I have my music, I have my swiffer, my vinegar, my paper towels, newspaper (best thing to ever clean your windows with is black and white news paper!), garbage bag, donate bag (OHHH American Kidney foundation, I haz some clothes for you!!!) NOW, if somebody has a magic wand that will make finger prints vanish from my walls, I will be forever grateful to you.
I’m on my way…
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