clickmom

I hate these letters - TMJ

I have TMJ. I first heard the horrid intitials I was a college sutudent visiting my mother. Mom had arranged for us to get massages and the massager toughed my face and said "Oh, I see you have TMJ." I didn't know what she was talking about. That was then.

Since then I have been to the doctor sure I had an earache, and told my ears were fine. Then I went to the dentist to be told my teeth were fine. Now 20 something years later I thought I was getting the knack of telling the difference between the agony of a toothache, an earche and a TMJ attack. Until this weekend when I was blessed with the mother of all TMJ attacks. Anyone out there ever have sciatica? It feels like sciatica in my face. Yes my whole face is seizing up. The pain wraps around my jaw bone, up to my eyebrow and back around my ear. It's like the big Y of torture. It all started Friday night. The whole right side of my face began to ache. I suffered all might long and then called the dentist in the AM. She said she didn't think it was my teeth, but noticed the gums under my bridge were inflamed. So she removed the bridge and asked me to wait until Monday to see if it was getting better. She thought the inflamation might have set off a nerve reaction. Now I am walking around with two snaggle teeth and a hole in the middle where my other teeth used to be. Are ya wondering how atractive I must feel? There is no smiling for me. At least on the right side.

The dentist gave me percosets to make it through. I only had one, and waited til I was going to sleep, I just took it so that I could make it through the night. I have been tolerating this episode of unrelenting pain with mega doses of over the counter painkiller. I know it must be a nerve related issue because not only is the pain moving around my face, but now I am enjoying numbness in my upper lip too. Chronic pain is so fun, I just want to cry.

Tomorrow morning I go back to the dentist. Cross your fingers for me.

does the news caster super size?

Matt and I were watching television together tonight. I went into the kitchen to get something and I heard Matt yell "Omigod, it's huge! Mom, you have got to come over here and see this- IT IS HUGE!" Worried what could possibly be huge and praying that is was neither on Matt's person nor of the rodent family, I quickly returned to the den where Matt had pused the 10 o'clock news. I asked what was huge and Matt gestured and said "Look at this guys mouth! It spreads all the way across his face!" I considered the news caster and remarked that he did resemble Bert from Sesame Street (apparantly the topic of the week for me) I said, "Yeah Matt, he looks like a muppet, with half his face on top and half on the bottom."

We sat and stared silently and in awe as the guy went on and on about something, just watching the top and bottom half of his face separate into two completely separate entities every time he made a long e sound until Matt muttered "I wonder how many french fries he can fit into his mouth."

shaking my head

Tonight during a dinner with Boops family, I compared Matthew eating cookie to the Cookie Monster. Matthew and Boops' kid informed me that Cookie Monster is now Celery Monster and he gobbles vegetables instead of cookies.

Could it be true?

The boys said that they had heard it at school. Ofcourse, Matt also mentioned a scenario where Cookie goes to rehab and merely trades one addiction for another.

Is this another sign of the apocolypse, cause I am thinking my mother's well stocked cookie drawer was way more responsible for my own personal childhood obesity than Cookie ever could have been. I can't even imagine blaming Cookie! He's fuzzy and blue!! If anything he represented a kindred spirit, a charming, yet wider puppet who understood the power of the cookie and never ever judged. Cookie had a good heart. Besides, since he had no hole in his puppet mouth we all knew he never actually injested the cookies. He just enjoyed their sweet aroma.

my pal

My fingers are crossed.  It is tough to type like this.

Boops has her own website now, and for her I am trying to figure out how to link. 

Here goes.

I hope this works.

getting tough with me

Like most people I see myself a certain way when I look in the mirror. I mean when I look in the bathroom mirror, and I look at my reflection in the most flattering way possible. I have run into a little problem during pilates though. The pilates studio is mirrored on all four sides, and most of the time I can either avoid my reflection or am looking at myself straight on, which works for me. But lately the instructor has me doing a new movement that involves twisting around with my arms held out straight to the sides. This means I get a great look at my bat wings and my twisting torso jelly roll belly. I do not typically look at my bat wings. Or my belly. They trouble me. They are a symbol of how far into the abyss I have allowed myself to slide. My skin can't go all the way back.

For a while now, I have been feeding on my partial victory in the battle of the bulge. But it isn't good enough. I am still morbidly obese, and I am not going to grow old at this weight no matter how much I pretend that I am okay because I go to the gym. I am not even half way to where I need to be, and I have stalled for too long. I haven't stalled because of some metabolic blip that necessitates me plateauing at this weight. I have stalled in my progress because I am eating too much. Despite the rigid limitations I have put on myself I am still managing to eat too much. I know it. I just wasn't ready to admit it. I mean, I have been saying it for a while, but somewhere in the back of my head, I still thought that maybe the weight loss would resume of I just kept going to the gym. I kid myself by thinking that even skinny people have fries sometimes. But having to see what I really look like in the mirror has made it all too clear to me. That and the photo of me floating on my back in the Dead Sea with my bubble belly bulge all sticking out of the water was a big kick in my reality pants. Typically I only post photos that are flattering of me, but to tell the truth I am tired of having to take too many photos to get the right shot where my double chin isn't showing, or my jelly rolls aren't too obvious. I just want to be able to see me how I look and feel like I look like how I feel. I feel like I should be healthy looking.

I was going to get a breast reduction surgery as a college graduation gift. My mom took me to a plastic surgeon who told me that if I was going to have kids I would probably want another one after they got all stretched out during the pregnancy and that he couldn't guarantee I would be able to nurse. I knew I wanted to nurse, so I put it off. I never thought I'd be still waiting around for it 19 years later! In the mean time, I decided that I would have a tummy tuck with my breast reduction. I am pretty sure that both surgeries can be performed at the same time and then I would be brand new and HOT! But now I am looking at the damage I have done and think, I also need a bat wing reduction and maybe even an inner thigh lift. And just when does it end? And how severely scarred can I make myself and still tell myself that I am looking healthier? I mean, after all the surgeries that I would like to have to put me back into skin that fits I would look like a road map. I would have to wear turtlenecks and long pants for the rest of my life. Also, fear of dying from surgical complications does throw a hypothetical monkey wrench into my hypothetical plans. All of which are moot if I never loose the rest of this weight because no surgeon in his right mind would nip and tuck me at this weight. And if I did find one who would, I wouldn't trust him to bandage a paper cut. He'd be unethical. I am still obese.

I guess my point is that I am undergoing a little reality therapy in my head. I am trying to be Dr. Phil tough with myself. I have goals that are never going to be met until I start eating better- eating like someone who wants to live, bat wings or no bat wings.

FEAR: defined

Opening the back door to call the dog into the house and getting a whiff of skunk

Joshisms

Josh looked at the fire pit the husband recently purchased and asked if we could have a blonde fire. Hmmm....

While driving out of a multilevel garage Josh peered out the window and exclaimed "Look! Rafoondi Marx!" (graffitti marks- I know this only because Matt was there to interpret)

why I won't watch Inspector Clausseau or use the sauna at the Y

As if grunting through strength training yesterday didn't already make my week, as if I wasn't still pondering the mystery of why the grunter wears two sports bras at the same time, you can't even guess who entered the locker room just as I was finishing up drying my hair. Turban Lady!! And I am never going into the nasty sauna at the Y again. First, on my way to the pool, I stopped to use the potty and through the crack in the door I noticed another lady in the sauna. She was wrapping her towel around her hair and laid her naked privates down on the bare wood. ~shiver~ Then after swimming, T.L. came in and while she was in the potty I peeked at all her sauna paraphernalia already stashed in the sauna and I saw a pair of toe nails scissors sitting on the bottom bench. Now,a s far as I am concerned, there is no place in the sauna I can sit. The top bench has girlie juice on it and the bottom bench and maybe even the floor most likely has toe nail clippings scattered about. Oh the horror! It's like one of those news show filler stories, except it is the Y that I pay good money for! GROSS!! I am never using that sauna ever!

Anyways, T.L. came into the locker room wearing nothing above her ankles but her trademark turban and a trench coat. When she whipped that baby off I almost fainted. Seriously people, she was walking out in the street with nothing but a trench coat on. Folks, she looks like she is pushing 70. I just couldn't make this up! But it did remind me of an event from my teens. When I was in 7th grade there were rumors that there was a flasher in the neighborhood. We all thought it was the funniest thing. One day, while wandering the streets surrounding our school, like we always did, my friend Stacy and I were approached by a middle aged man in a trench coat who flashed us. We quickly realized what was happening and we cracked up, pointing and laughing. By the time we recovered from our hysterics, he had scampered away. Obviously I wasn't scarred by this incident.

But now I'll really never look at a trench coat in the same way.

not dis-grunt-led any more

Last Friday I photographed a tennis match. I was photographing the singles names and noticed that one of the players was a grunter. I smiled to myself, made a Steffie Graf joke inside my head and continued with my work. When two of the other players met by the net I heard the grunters teammate whisper to his opponent "I warned you."
 
Today I went to posh club for spinning and for strength training.  Spin was pretty good.  Afterward I went into the locker room with Boops to change into my sneakers. On the way out she claimed to have seen a silicone drone.  I coldn't believe it, I missed the opportunity to stare at a silicone drone.  As if missing that didn't suck enough, the silicone drone was also, according to Boops, wearing a thong when she should not have been.  I knew missing out on this childish thrill was a bad omen and decided I had to turn my day around.  I just didn't know how I was going to do it.

I am still sticking with the strength training with the wussy instructor, even though she continues not only to insult the most excellent strength training instructor, Moose, but to incorporate dance moves into her program despite the fact that I actually ~ahem~ "mentioned" to the director how many regulars had dropped the class because they are interested in straight strength training and not fancy 7 step moves that are too sophisticated for  spaz types like me and the ones who have already fled the class.  Anyways, one of the newer participants is a grunter.  And she is the only one who is a grunter.  Most of us are more in the heavy exhaling category.  After about a dozen or so grunts in the first 20 minutes, she thought it was an especially challenging class, I could barely contain my laughter, so I decided to join her.  I became a grunter.  And I grunted (and smirked) the rest of the class away.  I get such a kick out of me.  I am so grown up.  And not to mention easily amused.

I also started responding to the wuss.  For some reason she likes to ask the class "How many more?"  And someone always "Two."  I have no idea what this about, why the wuss can't just count, or why two is the magic number, so I started answering.  Except I would say "Three."   And then we would do three more repetitions.  What fun!  When the wuss asked the class, after a new and painful move, "Can you do another set?" I grunted out  "Oh yeah!"  HA!    I looked over my shoulder in the locker room just to make sure no one was trying to jump me and who should I be stationed near?  The grunter!  Thank goodness the day turned around for me.

Happy Mothers Day Grandma

The husband got me lots of great stuff for Mother's Day. I got jewelry, a vacuum (I asked for it!), a safe (I asked for it), and a DVD projector so I can give Evan a backyard movie party for his belated birthday party (and have outdoor movies all summer) and most thrilling- a macro lens for my camera (I have wanted one forever). All those things are great, I am psyched.

What I liked most about this Mother's Day, was the two nice things I got to do for other people. I knew it was going to be a particularly difficult day for my friend Boops. It was last Mother's Day that she first discovered her husband was having inappropriate "friendships" ~cough cough~ with other women. I managed to gat Boops to send both of her kids over here for playdates with my guys and while they were here I did a little photo shoot with them. I did a portrait of each alone and one of them together. Then I framed them in a frame that her son had picked out earlier when I took him to the mall, and gave it to the boys to give to her. I know any Mom would love photos of her kids but the thing here is that in their family the husband was the one who always took all the photos. There are photos all over the place, walls, dressers, mantels, and every once in a while Boops would comment that all the pictures in her house were taken by HIM. I thought Boops might like to see some photos taken by someone who supports her.

So, this morning Boops left me a very pleasant phone message, then she received her gift and 20 minutes later she left me a weepy thank you message. She liked the gift.

The other nice thing I did was visit my Grandma. It was hard to drag myself to her house, she is so sad, and the kids are always so bored and unhappy there. But Grandma was so happy to see me. When we got there she was all dressed in her sweatshirt best with a ton of rouge and even some perfume. But best of all she had a huge grin across her face, and she was so thrilled that we were there. What I was thinking to myself this morning when I made myself go to see her was that I don't even know if Grandma will be around next Mother's Day and if she is still here, I am not so sure she'll even have enough memory to know what is going on. She is fading. During lunch I asked her if my Mom had spoken with her and Grandma had no idea. She tried to give Josh a Teddy Bear and when he suggested she save it for my sister's daughter Grandma couldn't remember who she was. She even had trouble recognizing my sisters name. I am worried. I know that by tonight she won't even be sure that we were there. But we left her with a bouquet of flowers, so at least for the next few days I'll be able to call her and ask how the flowers are doing and she'll see them and know that we were just there.

Even though I didn't get the traditional breakfast in bed, or a dinner out, today was kind of sad, and I am typing this alone because the husband is fast asleep in bed with Josh, and Matt and Evan are watching TV in the other room, I end this Mother's Day with a warm feeling in my heart knowing that I made the day nicer for two people who really do deserve to have a nice day.