clickmom

two posts all rolled into one

written on 2/28 from my local Starbucks, in a hurry cause Josh has a BK kids meal and it wasn't the Sponge Bob toy he wanted.

Called Peanut this morning to with her luck-she was on her way out the door for her surgery and calmer than I could ever be in a million years.  Seriously- I get more worked up over a trip to the dentist than she seemed to be this morning on the phone.  People like me think people like her are faking it, and I am worried that it is all going to come out at once.  I guess she could just be calm, but I remain suspicious.  Say a prayer for Peanut.

Then I spoke to my little sis, who like me is having trouble breathing and concentrating.  Mom's surgery is tomorrow.  Say an extra prayer for Mom too, we'll take any religion, cause she is going to need some serious help just to make it through the surgery.

I tried to swim as usual today, just to stay in my routine, and found that not being able to breath deep and swimming don't go together so well.  It did feel good to be more than a little breathless at the end of it though.   I kind of feel like I want to just run and run and run until it is all over and I can't think or feel or worry any more.   Remember when Forrest Gump just ran and ran?  I want to do that.  Damn these bad knees, oh yeah and the kids, I guess I can't ditch the kids either.  Maybe I should just walk on a treadmill.  I think I could use a punching right about now.   We still have no internet from home, but help should be arriving in the form of a cable guy tomorrow while I am away.  I will most like ly bring my laptop so I can post from Florida.  Posting makes me feel like I am still normal or okay.   Writing makes me feel like I have a friend to talk to.  Partlyt his is because my friends are checking in, and they call me and know what is going on, which is nice for me because then I don't have to say the same thing 18 times, and partly because I just feel like getting it all out and am not necessarily looking for the feedback. I can get that from one of the other freaking voices in my head.  (kidding)  I know what I would say to someone else is going through what I am going through.  I know there is nothing any one can say, and only hope for the best.  My mom has to 1. survive the surgery and 2. either not have cancer or have an early stage of it that they can remove.    I'll know what the deal is tomorrow when it is all over.  In 24 more hours hopefully I'll be able to breathe. 

written on 2/27 with no internet access or sugar - day 2

I am a bit surprised that I am able to drop the sugar.  It was probably made easier by the fact that I was still feeling queasy from eating it, and hadn't re-immersed myself in it yet.  I find it interesting to note that after almost a year of no sugar it made me nauseous to eat it.  It also made my heart race.  I wonder if I was feeling that way all the time when eating it but never noticed because I had gotten accustomed to it.  

Today is day my two.  The timing could have been better.  Tomorrow is Peanut's surgery, the next day I will fly off to Florida to be there when my Mom has her surgery, and in the mean time I am detoxing and PMSing.   Typically my reaction to this kind of stress would be to eat everything in sight and then whip up another batch.  Today I can't do that.  There shall be no more stress eating for Clickmom!  If only I was a stress cleaner my place would be immaculate right now.  I am beat.

Today I took Josh to the Y for his sports and games class.  Since it is only 30 minutes long I decided to wait in the lobby and read my book.  Fifteen minutes into the half hour I noticed my eyes rolling back into my head, put the book down and fell fast asleep with my head in my hands.  I woke up with a start  from total oblivion just at the minute Josh's class was over.  I jumped to my feet before my brain had reconnected with my legs and stumbled toward the gym.  Can you say "Clickmom is graceful and smooth."?  Not if you were in the lobby of the Y at 2:45 today!

I am tired, the kind if tired that even caffeine can't help (I know cause I tried) so I am just going to call it a night.  I find that going to bed early during detox helps.  Sleep eating is the one eating I never mastered.   And using dreams don't count.  So, I can dream eat all I want.  Maybe tomorrow I will have time to stop by some place with internet (and coffee!) and post this.   My internet is gone, all gone, and I suspect the culprit is a malfunctioning cable modem.  Speaking of, I spent 40 minutes on the phone with the tech guy from my cable company today and the little cutie was totally totally flirting with me!  I want to bite his cheeks, which in my imagination are attached to an amazingly cute face and totally boy-buff body.  I even mentioned my kids and the husband to see if this scrumptious sounding tech kid would be less of a cutie if I kept hinting at my advanced age and life situation, but he wasn't scared off by anything!   So, as I head up stairs alone since the husband off at some work related dinner thing it is the cable tech guy that I will be drifting off thinking of.  Well, him and ice cream.  

she saves

~~~deep sigh of frustration~~~~

There is something wrong with my internet.  It looked like it might be my airport, but then I disconnected it and went straight from the cable modem to the lap top- nothing.  Then I tried the other laptops in the house- nothing.  Forty minutes on the phone with Apple Care turned up- nothing.  I dunno what it is, where it is coming from, who is freaking at fault here, all I know is that who the heck knows when I'll be able to post this.  I will have to drive around with the laptop trying to find someone else's signal.   Either that or hang out in Starbucks, utterly painful, but I think I could manage to down a couple of lattes for the sake of an internet connection, trying to keep up with all my favorite sites, not to mention posting on my own site!!   A day with out posting, is like a day without ... vodka!  Must post!!   I am bummed.

So, here is a collection of the little insignificant thoughts and insights I had during my time on Florida with the parents.  

First, Mom sure hates throwing certain things away.  Like me, or I should say, I am like her, in that we both seem to get emotionally attached to our clothes.  Even the clothes we never had much of a chance to wear, like the ones we bought the day we hit our low weight that lasted for all of two weeks, and then never fit us again.  We also like to hang onto clothes that have that certain comfort factor.  For example,  I was in Mom's incredibly over crowded closet, trying to encourage her to make a charity bag,  when I pulled out a purple warm up suit.  I said "Mom, you are not allowed to wear this, it is way too 80's.  Wait a minute, it is totally 80's!  Mom you had this when I was in High School!!!!" (I graduated in '82)  Mom hung her head and replied "I know, but it is comfortable."  And I couldn't make it throw it out because I know exactly how she feels.  One day she may need something that ranks a 10 on the comfort scale.  It won't matter what it looks like cause she isn't going to be leaving the house, she may even be cooking or something and need a garment that can be worn without regard to staining, and then she can dress like a big grape from the 80's and be totally comfortable.  Yes, she needed to have that purple warm up suit.  It would be perfect.  I slid the warm up suit back into it's position on the rack.  

Then Mom pulled out an assortment of blouses that are too big on her since she has taken off some weight too.  She tried to pawn them off on me, since I often wear silk blouses to the gym or to cub scouts, or even to photograph a wrestling match, and always when I am loading the dishwasher or folding laundry, they would have been the perfect addition to my wardrobe, NOT.  I had to pass.  Also, I don't do big prints, beads, ruffles, metallic threads, asymmetry or any of the other little extra fancy things her blouses had going on.  I am a basic dresser.  There is no frills dressing happening here.  Finally she did pull out a couple of basic, unadorned sweaters that fit me like a dream and appealed to my no nonsense sense of style, she had never even worn them, but they will live a happy useful life with me.  

I too struggle with the old clothes syndrome.  It is not unusual for me to pull a sweater off the shelf and say "Oh, I wore this 10 years ago when I was pregnant with Evan!"  Or, "I had this when we lived in Manhattan before Matt was born!"  I am not only talking about the one pre-pre-pre-pregnancy J Crew belt I am saving to see if it ever fits again, I am talking about gray, used to be black, sweaters that are rapidly dethreading, but  are too comfortable and look great with everything.  I tried to find a tee shirt that didn't have stains on the boob shelf (no falling food ever makes it past the boob shelf on me) before we left for Florida.  I sifted through an impressive pile of t-shirts, and I came up with 3.  Did I toss the stained ones?  No way!  Some of them are soft and cozy, I can't betray the t-shirts like that, we've been through so much together!  Yeah, I have trouble letting go too.  I have been trying to get past that lately.  I am slowly, one small bag at a time,  letting go.

Another curious item my mother has trouble letting go of is mattresses.  She and Dad had both the apartment in NYC (the one I grew up in)  and the house in Florida for over 20 years before they gave up the lease on the NY apartment.  When they cleared the apartment out they sold most of the big furniture, but for some curious reason they paid a mover to move two queen sized mattresses (not the box springs though) down to Florida, where they already had all the bedding they needed.  So, lacking a basement or an attic in Florida Mom had no place to actually put the mattresses.  In what she deemed as quite the clever move, she put the two city mattresses on top of the the two queen sized beds she already had in Florida.  That made the Florida beds a box spring under a mattress under a mattress.  You know how the box spring is covered with a non slippery material so the mattress doesn't slip off even though it is covered in a silky material?  Yeah well, when you put a silky mattress on a silky mattress it is like sleeping on a giant bowl of greased Jello.  And cause your Mom didn't think about taking the frame off the bed first, cause then she wouldn't be able to stash some old paintings underneath the bed, the slippery Jello you are attempting to sleep on with your just turned 5 year old who does a curious mix of night time break dancing each and every night is about five feet off the ground.  This is a big concern, cause if your upper mattress slides off your lower mattress during one of the 5 year olds more adventurous moves, you are going to crash into some of your Mom's lovely peach formica furniture that you don't want to be responsible for scratching.  I didn't sleep well in Florida.

Mom also tends to hold onto toiletries and other bathroom sundries.  In her shower there is a bottle of Finesse that I am sure belonged to my little sister during her high school years,  Also, out of curiosity I found the expiration date on a bottle of Immodium in her medicine cabinet.  It expired in 1992, making it older than my first born who is currently growing a mustache.  I am thinking that old bottle might just cause the exact symptom it is supposed to cure.  When I pointed it out to Mom she just said it most likely belonged to my grandmother, who in my opinion would be highly likely to take it and just as unlikely to check for freshness.  Scary.  You know how nothing from the supermarket ever has those price labels on them anymore because everything just gets scanned.  Not in Mom's kitchen!   I was checking expiration dates in there too.  

I think I'll go clean out my pantry now.  Later.

thinking of teaching a not very old dog a new trick

In the movie 8 Below, which we saw with the kids yesterday, the best dog on the dog sled was named Maya. The dog sledder guy called her "Maya, my best girl." Maya was awesome. I was thinking that since I HATE Devil Dog's actual name (chosen by the kids and not by me, who wanted to name her the totally awesome name which is Cheese) that maybe we could change her name to a way cooler name, such as Maya. I realize that it would never turn Devil Dog into a well trained awesome sled dog who could lead a team of other lesser dogs through the Antarctic while saving the scientist guy's life not once but two times or even a dog who could teach a bunch of domesticated sled dogs to hunt seagulls in order to survive in the wild, but maybe if I didn't cringe inside every time I said Devil Dog's real name I could like her just a little bit more and Maya is after all the name of the best girl.

Evan tried out the name Maya tonight. Devil Dog gave him a curious look when he called her by saying "C'mere Maya!" then she went running when he called "Maya! Want a treat?" But come to think of it, she responds like that when we call her by her actual name too.

another year older and surgery in 4 days

Yesterday was my birthday. It was the first non totally glorious weather day here in S Florida. We got a couple of hours worth of swim time in right after breakfast and then we went to lunch "at the club" (Yes, the folks live on a golf course) and the movies. We saw 8 Below. Despite my inability to bond with the devil dog, I am a total dog person, and each time my eyes welled up and I fought back the tears, Evan would lean forward in his seat and grin mockingly at me. By the third time he seemed to instinctively know when I was on the brink, I realized he must have been doing the same thing too, so I called his bluff and let him know that I knew that he knew I was about to lose it because he was fighting back the tears himself. A man who cries at movies! I am raising a sensitive guy!

We went out to dinner, where Josh insisted on ordering the crispy duck because Evan ordered it. Now, Evan and Matt ate crispy duck all through our trip to Paris two summers ago, but I don't think Josh even remembers Paris. My Dad insisted we let the kid have what he wanted. Josh ate a good amount of duck, but reprimanded me the whole time for not making him order Pizza off the kids menu. These days there is always one kid that I can't win with. It's getting old.

When we get home tonight I will have one of the kids take a photo of me. A photo the shows me below the shoulders, they barely exist since I can't take one with my own fully extended arm. It is almost a year since I have been dieting and I figure a before and after photo is in order.

What I haven't been sharing is that I fell off the wagon here, indulging in some sugary sweets. It all started with a giant bowl of dried fruit Mom had out on the coffee table. Me and Evan dived in like we had not eaten in a week. The good news is that I didn't suffer from my usual travelling constipation! The bad news is that I feel the desire/compulsion sneaking back, I am thinking about what I can eat every minute. I opened my eyes this morning and thought about the wheat free meranges my has in the drawer before I even glanced at the clock. This is why I have no decorative food around my house. I can't resist the temptation. It all went down hill from there, with me sneaking a bite of this and a little of that. Now I have to detox again when I get home. I can't believe it, I weakened right before I went a whole year!! I have to decide if I am even going to weigh myself when I gfet home. Then the bad thing is that I am getting back on a plane Wednesday to come back for Mom's surgery. It is hard to have a clean diet when I have to eat out 3 meals a day.

So, the challenge is on. The second I walk out of the door to go home I am me again. And "me" is sugar free. I can't go back to eating, thinking and weighing what I weighed. It isn't who I am anymore. Now I am a much less fat triathlete on my way to being a totally thin triathlete. I have a goal and dammit I will not let a cookie get in my way. This is a life or death situation for me because I can not be who I want to be and eat sugar. Tune in tomorrow for more detox drama. inhale deep, I can do this, I can do this.

surgery in 5 days

First off I would like to thank ekd in the comments section one post down below for confusing me with Melissa of Suburban Bliss. Melissa is the awkward hugger, not me, but I appreciate being mistaken for someone so much more popular and well known in the blogosphere. I mean, Melissa got to go to Amsterdam for free, the husband sent me and the kids off to Florida. Need I say more?

Speaking of the kids, we have been going through our over priced tourist routine, and frequenting every kid friendly with a gift shop place we could think of. In the process I have discovered that Josh, who I foolishly feared was growing up too fast is afraid of mummies, afraid of butterflies, afraid of birds, afraid of giraffes, afraid of riding in a motorized bumper boat, and yet somehow magically learned not only to swim but to swim underwater over night. Go figure.

Evan had a break through today and actually admitted that perhaps he had been in denial regarding the vile mood he has been in for the entire trip. Good thing too, because I was about one kid complaint away from selling him to the gypsys.

Matt on the other hand has been the essence of pure pleasure. Much to my surprise Matt, contrary to all teenage predisposition, has embraced each activity as well as particpated and enjoyed each over priced tourist trap we have encountered. He gets the award this trip. You get to guess what new video game or software he has been lusting after that I feeel quite certain he will be suggesting might make a good "reward" for his sunshiny attitude.

Tomorrow is my birthday and I wish I were home cause my babes are taking their kids to the movies together and I want to be with them.

Mom's armor started to crack tonight, first she lost it over a loose door handle, then she lost it over her living room rug which she informed me was just cleaned before our visit. When I said that was a foolish time to clean it, I saw the daggers fly from her eyes and wisely shut my mouth. Then she lost it again before we went to bed because I reminded her that the kids would want to give me breakfast in bed tomorrow. It is our little birthday tradition. I told her cottage cheese and strawberries would be just fine. Couldn't be easier right? No, not for Mom. I think we have over stayed our welcome and the fact that surgery day is looming doesn't help.

6 days til Mom's surgery

The first college I went away to after High School was Georgia Tech (don't ask, please don't ask). Our dorms were located on one side the highway, and us students could easily walk through an underpass to get to the other side of the highway and the cheap bar we hung out at. One night, after too much beer, like only a Georgia Tech student can drink, my friend Scott and his roommate stole a flashing highway marker and brought it back to their room. After a couple of nights of disturbed psychodelic flashing highway marker sleep, the guys found that the only place where they could stash the highway marker so that it didn't disturb them was in the little dorm room sized fridge. Then if you were hanging out with the guys, they would inevitably ask you to get something from the fridge. It was quite a shocker to open the fridge door. I am not sure why but right now I really wish I had a flashing highway marker for my fridge. I dunno, I just want one.

Being with my Mom the last few days has been all "visit as usual." Mom does not want to talk about what the future has in store for her. She wants to be distracted. This is easy to do since the boys are with me and well, imagine the four of us staying at your house. Do you think you would get much time to worry about your problems? No, you wouldn't, and at the end of the day, you'd be too wiped out from all the activity to even think, so needless to say, Mom has been distracted. We have had a couple of chances to share a thought or two, because I ask her a question here or there to help fill in some of the blanks. There are two big concerns for her. The first is the possibility of this thing being cancerous. That part is obvious. The second is complications due to her heart problem. Typically a woman would have a three day hospital stay after this surgery, mom will be in for at least a week. She has to be signed out by her whole team of doctors. Scary any way you look at it. Honestly, my big fear is the complications issue. She shouldn't be under general anesthesia, and she will be.

Dad brought Mom to tears yesterday just by trying to reassure her. He was telling her how they would get through this just like they had gotten through so many other things, and that 15 years from now, they would be watching their grown men grandsons swimming. Mom wasn't buying it, and since I have recently read Joan Didions book, The Year of Magical Thinking, in which she discusses signs that she thought she should have seen the signs of her husbands impending death, I am feeling a bit freaked out here. I am looking at my Mom and wondering if she intuitively knows anything. I mean, Mom dying here is a real risk. And if she makes it through the surgery and has cancer, then her battle will have only just begun. If she starts apologizing to me for not being there enough or something, I may just vomit. I have been eating enough for seven, because despite the fact that we are all "visit as usual" there is a dark cloud of worry over Mom, and the sadness is so present all the time I think I can actually feel it pressing in on me. If it was me who was thinking I may not come out of surgery I would be saying goodbye to everyone I love. I would be making calls, taking photos, writing letters, and making my plan B.

In 15 years my Mom would be 80 and my Dad would be 100.

a taste of both

What I am most definitely not missing from home:

What I am crying about missing:

According to Boops, who emailed me, during a particularly rigorous strength training class with Moose on Monday one of the participants threw up!! OMG!! How much fun could I have had with that story??
Damn. I miss all the good classes.

self portrait tuesday 2/21

This assignment was particulary difficult for me because it was to photograph a part of me that I don't like. Anyone who has read me for more than a week knows that one thing about myself that I don't like is my huge stomach. When I spend most of my life pulling my shirt down to hide it, it seemed impossible to actually photograph how I feel about it. I thought about clothed photos, and how in the world I would take not clothed photos, the last thing I need here on my web site are porno seekers.

I didn't know what to do, and this was the last Tuesday of the month. I thought about potographing some other parts of me, like all my scars, but truthfully, they don't bother me at all. For some reason I felt like there was only one direction I needed to go in here and I couldn't figure out how to do it. Then I got to my folks house, with this weighing on my mind, when it hit me. In this house is a long thin bathroom. At one end is a shower with sliding mirrored doors. Right next to the shower is the tiolet, and when a person is sitting on the potty they can look to the left and see their side view. I have been cringing at the side view of me with my pants pulled down for 23 years, and I knew that this was what I needed to shoot for this months portrait. Here is the ugly part of me, according to me.....

Happy Birthday Josh!

Today is sweet baby Josh's birthday.  Except he isn't a baby anymore.  Today he is 5 and that makes me want to cry.  I am not a big fan of change, especially when I am so happy with what I have got.  What I have in and with Josh is a dream to me.  Josh and I speak the same language, he is easy to be with, has never even thought of having a tantrum, and delights me with all his love and affection.  I look at Josh and can feel myself lighting up.  He is pure joy to me.

It isn't as if I don't want him to grow up, I know that is the goal of our whole journey together. It is just that he is such a lovable, huggable, completely delicious, totally edible guy, and I don't want him to change.  I can't imagine not being able to scoop him up in my arms or smother his giggling self with kisses.  He likes to offer me some baby back ribs and I get to pretend to gobble up his back.  I know that the time is just around the corner that he won't want to bet kisses over money with his brother.  Today when Matt tried to bet Josh 5 dollars that we would make it home in time for Sponge Bob, Josh replied "Err... make that bet 5 kisses and you're on!"  Who would want that to end?  Not me.   I also know that one day he will not want to marry me any more, or tell the world that he and I are in love with each other. 

I know that any day now, Josh will say "I am thirsty."  Instead of "I am firsty." and then Matt can't say "I am secondy." in response, and I want that exchange to last forever.  I think I could hear it every day of my life and each time my heart would just swell with a little more love and then I would die complete.  
A few weeks ago Josh started playing video games when I brought home a Dora video game.  In the space of that few weeks he went from Dora to Star Wars, and now his favorite character is Obi Wan Kenobi with the green light saber.  He knows all the Star Wars characters, their personalities, what they stand for and can play as any of them.  Video selection isn't Josh's only suddenly all grown up attribute.  I also noticed that when he talks to me, even though he still has a sugary cute cartoon voice, his sentences are much more complex as is what he has to say.  He speaks grown up now too.  I'm not even so sure when it actually happened, and now I find myself feeling guilty that maybe even though we spend so much time together, I have been doing too much of the talking and not enough of the listening.  Now I am going to listen more.

The family can't get away with anything around Josh these days.  Even if we spell he figures us out.  We can forget about pig latin and hand movements too.  The brothers can't fool him anymore either.  They used to be able to trick him into watching them play video games by convincing him that he could use mind control to move the characters, and that way they never had to give him a turn.  He finally figured that one out.  He is also too clever to be distracted from them with the television.  He still loves the television, and will watch as long as we let him, but when he knows the brothers are doing something he wants in on, there is no stopping him now.  In Josh's mind he is "one of the boys" and I am afraid he might be right.  Josh and his brothers can share the jokes now.
I watch the way Josh adores Matt and I want that to last forever.  Matt is like a second father to Josh.   Matt has Josh's back and Josh knows it.  Josh will lounge on Matt's bed looking at Matt's comic books while Matt plays on his computer, draws, or listens to music.  I love that they hang out.  I am afraid that one day Josh will need to be the guy who has all the answers and may turn away from Matt and that would be heart breaking for both of us.  I want Josh to always look up to his big brother.   I also watch the way Josh envies Evan.  Josh is incredibly jealous of affection or attention Evan gets and most definitely competitive with him.  Maybe it is because they are closer in age.  Maybe it is because they have different strengths.  Maybe they will become the best of friends as adults, and that gives me a growing up thing to look forward to. 

As I think bout how Josh has changed these past couple of months, I realize that he is taking charge of his world.  He resists going to bed for the first time in his life, and doesn't want to follow the rules.  He will try to sneak away from the dinner table when he wants to play, he'll try to get out of going to school, and he even turns on the tears if he thinks it will help him get his way.  I also see that Josh has taken a position in the family hierarchy that isn't always on the bottom of the ladder, he is taking charge, initiating games and activities and also playing with his outside friends more and more.  I know this is what happens at this age, but he'll have to excuse me if I pretend he is my baby for just  a little longer.

Tonight Josh didn't want to go to bed.  I explained to him that good mommies had to make sure their kids got enough sleep to be healthy, even if it was their birthdays.   He told me that he was so mad at me that he wouldn't be able to romance me all night long.  I told him I'd still be loving him.  I'll always be loving him.

Happy Birthday Big Boy! Mommy loves you!

I am that gal

I nonchalantly answered my senior citizen parents phone today and the voice on the other end said "I want to talk to the gal with the big boobs."

Being in an usually fast thinking frame of mind (because these things normally come to me on a 5 minute delay) I replied "You got her, but I think you want my mother." and handed my mother the phone.

Oh yeah, rock on Florida.