I will have to walk into the maelstrom to get things, oiy.

 My last week has been spent on knitting feverishly on this sweater. (40 rows before the final edging.) I haven't even started the bear that's been requested of me. I'm starting to think I might not get it done at all. I'm crocheting just as feverishly on a mobius cowl. I think I made a mistake thinking it was going to be easy to get done quick. Large yarn and large hook is faster than small yarn with a small hook. But 200 stitches per round is still alot. And I worry it won't be large enough or wide enough with the yarn that I have. 

I was planning on baking cookies from scratch but now I think the best decision is to buy packaged dough and go that way because I'm running out of time. I think the school pictures (that initially I thought weren't going to happen) showed up. That means picture frames and such. Aside from going into Shopmageddon to buy picture frames, I need to acquire things for the 12 boxes of Yule. I also need to locate books for the holiday eve book giving that I've started doing. And there are people that I can't  make things for because the pattern I was testing had the gauge all messed up. I don't have time to fix that and then make three versions of that pattern. So, I will have to brave the crowds to get stuff for them.

As a person with social phobia, Shopmageddon is not my favorite time of year. As a matter of fact, it is my least favorite time of year between the crowds and all of the canned holiday music that hasn't changed since 1950. I loathe Bing Crosby's voice because I've been over exposed to it. And they start playing it earlier and earlier with each year. I heard holiday music in one store back in August and they were setting up some of their holiday displays. Ugh.

I did not plan for a week to go by. Oiy.

  I planned to pick up the blogging threads and start weaving them again Monday. Then I had a migraine that put me out of commission. After that, I had my intake appointment for therapy. I glossed over some of the trauma because I could see that my therapist was getting deeply disturbed. I don't want to break another therapist. This one genuinely wants to help and when I broke down crying in the middle of the session, she offered me some tissues and told me to take the time I needed.

I'm worried that as I get into the deeper mess of it all, I'm going to break her. I just glossed over a lot of the trauma and her expression turned grave. I made clear there was a lot more that was a lot uglier. I don't know if I'm going to be transferred from V., who I just met, to the head of the clinic. I don't honestly know how it's going to go. Watching that woman's pained expression made me feel awful to be the cause of it. But, that was Tuesday.

Wednesday was taking the boys to their therapy appointments. The guys seem to be doing well in session and learning how to better manage their emotions. Cuddle Bear has some testosterone poisoning induced anger issues, but he's 16, that happens. (No literal poisoning, just raging hormones.) He also has some serious anxiety about a number of things. The therapy process is helping him get something of a handle on his anger and anxiety. So, it is working well for him. Snuggle Bug is anxious about everything school related and that's a long slog through that mess of feelings. And hormones are kicking in as he is entering puberty. His therapist is working really hard to help him navigate this stuff. He's having some difficulty, but I think he'll get through it.

Today, I'll be doing a video for my Veiled Witch blog. I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to talk about. My brain is a bit fuzzy and I'm tired because my CPAP and I haven't been getting along well since day one. If I can, tomorrow, I will stop as the medical supply store where I picked it up and see what other mask options my health insurance covers. Apparently with this one, I just haven't had a good seal with the mouth piece which is why it is leaking so much. I'm relieved that I haven't broken it. I was getting worried there.

And to top it all off, I have caught the cold that's been bothering everyone else in the house. My sinuses hate me, my throat is itchy, and I'm even more tired than just with the messed up sleep situation. Ugh.

NaBloPoMo post no. 30: *Another* Migraine, argh!

 The temperature jump of 30 degrees is what set this one off. I've taken my Excedrin because medical studies are inconclusive if you can take Imitrex more than 3 time in a 30 day period. Over the course of this month, I've had four migraines because of the stupid weather. I can handle a temperature jump of 10 degrees F in either direction. If it is 20 deg F or higher, I get a migraine. Especially if there's rain coming with it or some other form of precipitation.

On top of the migraine, if we've got weather coming all my joints hurt and where I got the epidurals to have the c-sections when the boys were born, well it feels like I got hit there with a bat. It's just not a good time. I try to grit my teeth and push through but there's only so much misery I can deal with before I say I give up and hide in a dark room in a blanket fort/pile.

Stupid migraine.

NaBloPoMo post no. 29: I think I caught my son's cold.

 Cuddle Bear has had a wicked cold for a little while now. He's finally recovering from it. Now I am showing symptoms and I am highly annoyed. I have been sick so much of the year that it took a serious bite out of my productivity. I had pneumonia for two months. I had bursitis in my right shoulder for a week after that. Then the left shoulder got pissy for a week and only ice worked to make it hurt less. Earlier in the year was the three day migraine. Just about every month, on average, I've had a migraine due to the weather. It's been pretty awful because I'm basically out of commission for three days for each migraine. The day before, I am scatter brained and succumbing to food cravings like a fool. The day of, I am functionally useless between the light and sound sensitivity. And did I mention the nausea. It all together an awful experience. The day after, I'm just as scatter brained as I was the day before but I am exhausted too. It's not fun and I don't recommend it to anyone.

I'm frustrated. And I'm tired despite the CPAP machine helping me breathe in the night. I just don't feel great and I have no good news or wonderful announcements for y'all today. Just hang in there like the cat on the window screen and we'll all get through this.

NaBloPoMo post no. 28: Snowmageddon missed us by 10 miles.

As many of you are aware, I and my family live in the Finger Lakes region. We're at the westernmost part of that area. Not quite Western New York, not quite Central New York, and a scooch too far north to be part of the Southerntier. We are in an awkward position geographically for people to define, unless you are talking football. Then it is everything from Buffalo east to Syracuse is "Bills Country" and even if you don't like football, you're socially expected to be part of the Bill's Mafia. Because Bills.

The Weather Channel made the usual Lake Effect that makes driving through Western New York hazardous this time of year sound like the worst ever. The snow bands from the Great Lakes can reach pretty far inland. We are in this pocket where the snow bands off Lake Erie misses us by about ten miles and the snow band off Lake Ontario miss us by, roughly, another ten miles. And then because of the weird microclimates due to all the hills, we happen to sit in a spot where we don't get nailed too badly when the big storms roll in, usually.

When we hit the latter part of the week where we are suppose to warm up to around forty degrees Fahrenheit, the couple of inches of snow that we got will probably all melt. The real problem for us is this bitter cold and the wind. It has been blowing pretty hard most of the day so far. I suspect the wind chill is about the same as it was in the morning, around 19 deg F. My sons were not happy to wait for the bus in this weather. Only enough snow for one young man to shovel and their hands were very cold despite their good quality gloves. As my eldest said when I told him he could not wait in the apartment for the bus, "I hope you'll be happy when I get frostbite in my hands." He usually doesn't fire off quips like that, but I don't blame him. It was pretty bitter out there.

I told him to wait in the entryway out of the wind. That seemed to mollify him. As someone who gets cold easily and literally hurts like it is burning their flesh, I could empathize with him. Still, I chuckle at what he snapped off. Because about ten seconds later the bus arrived and he left the entryway grumbling. 

NaBloPoMo post no. 27: Shoppmageddon tempts me.

Beloved pointed out to me that I didn't have to make everything for everyone on my list. I hear the siren call of shopping and I am doing my best to resist. I suspect in the end half of what I have planned will be made and I'll be working on a shopping list in a week or so. Because there's a lot to do to fix the disaster of this apartment. 

It is my goal to have it all clean by Yule or Mother's Night. I'm not throwing a party or anything. I just want to have this place sorted out kinda like a present to myself. I don't know how I am going to get the kids to participate in this. It may be a temporary suspension of tablet time. I don't know. Snuggle Bug is very forgetful and I have to watch him like a hawk to keep him on task. (As much as he assures me he doesn't need the supervision, he really does.) Cuddle Bear is finally beginning to step up and start handling some of the chores.

I don't know what Beloved said to him in that conversation, but it's made for a turnaround in his attitude towards housework.

NaBloPoMo post. no. 26: I guess I wake up at 0400 now.

 Since using the CPAP machine, I have been consistently waking up at 0400 and taking a one hour nap at 0800. This isn't a huge problem just bewildering. I can't figure out what is waking me up at 0400. The neighbors' pets are typically rather quiet at that time. They haven't been fighting at that hour in a couple weeks.  Maybe my body is just telling met it is time to get out of bed and do stuff.

I have spent most of my morning reconciling my daily planner with my journal. I got to a point where that became mind numbing and I ate breakfast about an hour early compared to what I usually do. I was good, I wrote everything down in my food journal. I hate monitoring my food intake. It brings up ugly memories of my youth and the feeling that I am eating too much when I am not, I am eating exactly what I should. I have a lot of anxiety surrounding food, bad habits of restricting intake, and similar garbage behaviors that go back to when my mother was starving me because the worst thing I could be was fat.

Thoughts about things like that will keep me up at night trying to figure out wtf is wrong with an 8 yo having a few extra pounds on them. I was an active child and I burned off about half of what I ate running around the farm. Considering that I get cold easily, like dangerously fast, a few extra lbs would probably have done me some good as a child. But what to I know. That is in the past and I really need to leave it there.

Nablopomo post no. 25 - So. Many. Carbs.

I've been trying really hard to watch my carbohydrate intake. Yesterday, I was stress eating leftovers. I saw there was a small amount of bread based stuffing and thought it'd be ok to eat it. After all, it was lunch time and that's the time of the day where I am supposed to eat the most carbs out of the whole day. My range is 35 to 40 carbs per meal and 10 to 15 carbs per snack (3 snacks a day).  I ate my dark meat turkey and this small bit of stuffing. Two hours later my blood sugar was way high (275 mg/dl) and I felt awful.

Pretty much everything on the table except for a small salad and the dressing that Beloved made was high in carbs. So I took only meat and the dressing that Beloved had made. I didn't have any salad because I wasn't in the mood for it. Also, it was a really small bowl of salad for 12 people. But, I was good, I had one serving of the dressing and a generous amount of meat. I think I was successful at balancing my carb load against how much protein I needed.

I did my best to ignore the rest of the food on the table despite people waxing poetic about it. I did my best to ignore the fact that there was mulled cider, regular cider, and wine to drink. I stuck with my bottle of water (which is kinda big). I'd have loved to have had a glass of wine or a glass of cider. But the wine would mess with my psychiatric medications and the cider is basically liquid sugar. There were four different kinds of pies. That was plenty of temptation right there. The only indulgence I allowed myself was a sliver of the most diabetic friendly pie of the bunch, apple crumble. It was unsatisfactory and left me fairly disappointed. Not because it was a bad pie, but because I couldn't have more.

Cue lunchtime yesterday. I told myself that I was only going to have a little bit of the stuffing. And I did, approximately the equivalent of two slices of regular bread. Like a fool, I forgot that two slices of regular bread is, on average 60 carbs. About twenty minutes later, I felt awful. And that was when I went 'oh no, I screwed up.' and checked my blood sugar. It was high. I reminded myself a more accurate reading will be in an hour and a half. I took my blood sugar then and it was still quite high. So, I started drinking a ton of water to get that sugar out of my system. It took me about 3 hours to get it down to a semi-acceptable number.

After that fiasco, I warned Beloved about the high carb load of the stuffing. He heaved a sigh. I knew exactly how he was feeling. He had been looking forward to it because he didn't have any, and now he might be forced not to have a bite of it. He got diagnosed with type 2 diabetes a few months ago. He was rather despondent for a while but then he started looking around for recipes he could adapt, hence the pumpkin pie a little while back. He has jumped into cooking with both feet and is finding a good amount of success.

It helps that he's an engineer and approaches it as one. He views the recipe as an experiment and learns from what doesn't work. I think it's a rather brilliant way to do it. Now that we're playing around with sugar substitutes, it's like we're doing chemistry or alchemy, I'm not sure which.  

Nablopomo post no. 24: Thank gods, THAT is done!

 Turkey Day was not a complete fiasco. The old goat wasn't quite as goatish. He didn't have snide comments about the diabetics at the table this year. I think it was because there was three of us instead of one. Dinner was well tolerated. No one got snippy over my boys not having much of an appetite. Beloved and I did our level best to not get into the food with too high of a sugar content. My red lipstick didn't transfer to anything (except when I blotted the corner of my mouth, then it transferred to the napkin, but it was the same color as the cranberry sauce, so I think I'm safe).

The Boomers were happy to talk among themselves. The Gen-X crew was washing and cleaning up from dinner on the sly to irritate the old goat (whose hobby is washing dishes now). And the Gen-Z kids were on their tablets giggling at cat videos.

I got absolutely no knitting done, but I expected that. I did get started on a soap sack for Beloved. I brought two projects with me so that I had something to keep my hands busy while everyone else was twirling around before dinner with setting the table and cooking. It also worked pretty well to keep me out of conversations I didn't want to be involved in.

Nablopomo post no. 23 - Ah gods, it's Turkey Day.

 It is 0436 and I have been up since 0230. My stomach is all knotted up and I feel nauseated. I know that I'm going to be exhausted later today because I've only gotten 4 and a half hours of sleep. I am not looking forward to today. I just want to avoid the world and sleep. But I can't sleep because of how my stomach is roiling. I've tried drinking water. I've tried a cup of tea. I've tried Gas-X and antiacids. Nothing is working.

I don't know if this is a side effect of the Trulicity showing up at an inconvenient time. I don't know if this is my anxiety. I just know I feel rotten at the moment. 

Everyone in the apartment is asleep but I. I spent about a half hour doing crochet by relatively dim light. Because I couldn't accurately count rows, I set it aside and said to myself "I have blog posts to catch up on. I can do that because my keyboard is quiet and the angle of the room with where I positioned my desk lamp means I won't wake up the kids.

I had a migraine that lasted for two days. This is part of the reason why I didn't post. It's hard to brain up words when you feel like someone is trying to pry your skull apart and light is stabbing you in the face. Yesterday, I was post migraine but still feeling horrid. That was because I had a terrible night's sleep the night before because of the migraine.

Looking at the weather and the dramatic temperature drop expected, I'm probably going to have another migraine. I don't know if this sick feeling is aura symptoms, because that happens if I'm going to have a really bad one. All I know is that I can't take the Imitrex because I've already taken it twice this month. So, Excedrin is going to be my go to today.

I'm not looking forward to talking politics. I'm not looking forward to snide comments about the food that my FiL doesn't think looks tasty or his bitchiness about the idea of people having food sensitivities or allergies. I'm really hoping I don't have to sit next to him again. It was really hard to resist the urge to stab him with a fork as he was going on about how there were too many vegetable dishes.

I kinda hate that man between his politics, his opinions on child rearing, and his sense of entitlement to dictate how other people should be. His wife is sweet as pie and I adore her. We have a lot in common. We could natter on for hours about shared hobbies and projects we're working on. I don't talk to him unless I absolutely have to. I fear it will be necessary to talk to him today. This is going to suck.

Nablopomo post no. 22: Deb vs CPAP -round 3 (It didn't go out the window, yet.)

 This confounded thing keeps turning off in the middle of the night. Not just turning the screen off but the entire damned contraption. I've tried a number of things. All I can do is wait for the power to cycle (a half hour) and then I can go back to sleep, but by then I am awake.

On top of that the neighbor's dog has been whining and howling since 0100 and it is 1410 right now. And at 0100, there was a screaming argument next door. Sleep was not my friend last night. And at 0500, their parrot started squawking. As Beloved said last night when he got home from work, that apartment is a literal circus now.

I thought about putting on the CPAP to take a nap around 1300. But that was when a screaming argument broke out between the neighbor in apt b and some other neighbor in the building. They were told they should be more like us, it wasn't vindicating. It was just another irritation for me. I'm exhausted with the noise last night and the CPAP being wonky. My brain is still fuzzy between mild sleep dep and the lingering effects of the migraine. Too bad the CPAP didn't help with the migraine. But, I guess there's only so much it can do.

Nablopomo post no. 21 - Trulicity Week 2

 Some of the side effects of nausea and belching are present. On average, however, my daily fasting blood glucose has come down by 20 points. I've been a fool a few times over the last two weeks and ate like I didn't have diabetes. My blood sugar went high and I felt like garbage. Thus, Trulicity is not a cure all, like the ads like to make it out to be.

I'm a little nervous about Turkey Day. That's going to be a wide range of food, with a good amount of it not exactly carb friendly. Now approximately a third of the adults at the table are diabetic. I am wondering what my curmudgeon of a FiL is going to say about the dishes we put on the table. If he complains there's too many vegetables, I might stab him with a fork. Last year was a close call when he made that comment with out even trying what I had cooked.

He tries to come off as a bafoon but sounds like a spoiled brat. It makes me angry when he comments on my cooking and doubly so when he comments on Beloved's cooking. This is part of why I am dreading tomorrow.

NaBloPoMo Post No. 20: I hate this weather rollercoaster. I want off.

 I am on day three of a migraine. Days one and two I was non functional. Today, I am semi functional. I think this means it is going away. On top of the migraine fun, I have had my joints killing me (thanks, arthritis) and the stress of using this confounded CPAP troubling me. I'm convinced I am doing something wrong. I can't figure out what. The manual is word salad to me right now because I'm still having trouble reading from the lingering effects of the  migraine. This may explain why my typing here is a bit off kilter. I'm trying but it feels like it's not working out. Ugh. I hope I'm better by tomorrow.

Nablopomo post no. 19: Playing around with make-up

 It has literally been years since I've worn make-up. It was a part of my LARPing stuff and going out to be social. Yesterday, I went through all of my make-up and nail polish. I discovered in there some funky lip gloss. It is from L'Oreal (I think) and it is called Adrenalyn. It's this really dark navy blue with a tiny bit of gold sparkles in it. 

It transfers to cups really easy and is difficult to get off unless you are using baby wipes. (I swear those things can get everything clean if you are gentle and patient enough. They're magic.)

Still, I have decided I am going to start wearing make-up on a regular basis. I just have the lip gloss on in the picture above. I thought it was kinda cool that it sorta color coordinates with Eeyore. This make up stuff is hard for me because I'm not that great at it. I learned a lot from my late friend R. She encouraged me to be extravagant and spectacular with my make-up. At that time, I was still a bit nervous about that. So she decided to give me a make over. When I saw what she had done, I finally understood the purpose of make-up. It was to accentuate your features and to have fun.

For a really long time, my relationship with make-up was pretty rocky. I could to a passable job of applying lipstick and subtle tones to highlight my face. But I always worried that I did something wrong or that my color choices were all wrong for my skin tone. Growing up, I was mocked horribly by peers and my immediate family for wearing make-up. When I started going out on dates, my mom insisted on doing my make up for me because she decided that I was going to be leaving the house looking like a clown left to my own devices. Instead of looking like a clown, mom's heavy handed application and choices made me look like a cheap whore. It was awful and made me swear off of wearing make up for a few years.

It was hard to trust R. to give me that make over. But the end result was entirely different from what mom did. Yes, the lipstick was dramatic. Everything was tastefully dramatic (which fit the character I was playing to a t.) and I felt beautiful. I hadn't expected that. R. gave me tips and pointers on how to recreate the experience. It helped that she had gone to cosmetology school. (My mother did not.)

So, as I am doing the goth thing, I'm realizing I can have lots of fun with my make up just on a daily basis. Because it all washes off at the end of the day. I'm not brave enough to do eye liner yet, but some day, I'll get there.

Nablopomo post no. 18 - Deb vs. CPAP round 2 (I might hate this thing.)

 I got to bed late because the day was just bananas. I put on my CPAP mask and lay down to sleep. Trouble started first thing. I couldn't get a good seal around my mouth at first and I had to adjust the mask. The seal around my nose was uncomfortable but I hate having my nose covered with anything. It just wakes up an atavistic fear of drowning. Why, I have no idea, probably due to some unresolved trauma from my childhood or something.

So, I go to sleep for an hour. I wake up with a super dry mouth and a powerful thirst. I turn the CPAP machine off, finangle the mask off my head (which is hard because it is fitted tightly to keep those seals tight), and get a drink of water. I come back and check my stats only to discover the machine is leaking air. 16 liters of air per hour. I check all the hose connections, I inspect the mask and the mouth piece, and everything looks ok. I hope and pray that this isn't a sign of a problem, and I wriggle the mask back on, almost poking myself in the eye in the process.

At 0400, the confounded machine turns off. The power didn't go out. It was still plugged in. It was supposed to still be working but it wasn't. Every time I tried to reboot it, I watched it turn itself off. Fortunately, I got my mandatory 4 hours of sleep minimum for insurance purposes. But, now I have to call tech support before I throw it out a window in frustration.

To make matters even worse, I can not sleep in a comfortable position with out disrupting the airflow of the machine or breaking the seal of the face mask. If I yawn too much, it breaks the seal. It's maddening. I dislike sleeping on my back, it makes me feel vulnerable. That triggers bad dreams. And I can't use my big fluffy pillow that I just purchased last month because it messes with the CPAP's airflow through the mask.

I think I might hate this thing and it's only been a week (feels like a month, though.).

Nablopomo post no. 17: Deb vs CPAP round 1

 Last night, I slept horribly because my CPAP wasn't working correctly. So, this morning I attempted to service it as I should once a week. First I looked at all of the stats. The  mask was working properly and fitted correctly. The humidifier was working correctly as well. Then I scrolled into the more arcane details. That was where I discovered it had a 12 L leak per hour. I did what any one would do, checked the obvious. The tubing was all securely in place and it wasn't pinched anywhere. The face mask didn't have any obvious damage and the 'cushion' aka mouth piece fitted properly.

That was when I checked the air filter. It looked like swiss cheese. It is not supposed to look like that. So, I replaced it and threw the old one away. I am hoping that all of this resolves the leak problem. If not, I am going to call tech support, tell them everything I did, and ask them what I forgot. I still haven't RTFM. Because that would make things easier and possibly make sense. Such a silly concept, I can't be making sense, now can I?

Nablopomo post no. 16 - Slow progress is still progress.

This confounded sweater for Cuddle Bear is taking forever. I honestly don't know if I'm going to have it done in time for Yule. I just finished the table mat for the tea cozy set pattern test. I need to buy more yarn because I don't have the right color to make the two that I want to in addition to this pattern test. 

Now, you may wonder why I am doing a pattern test. Because the last time I took a pattern for granted, the gauge was all wrong and I had to rip the whole thing out. It was a headache. I'm fairly sure that I need to get more buttons as well to finish the tea cozy itself. Heck, I think I need buttons to do the button joins for Snuggle Bug's stuffie.

I have buttons but they're all the wrong shapes. All I need are simple, round buttons and I have none. You want stars, flowers, or hearts, I've got it. But no basic buttons are in my button jar because I have used them up repairing things. Large heart buttons could be fashionable on a pair of pants, but they'd be useless because they wouldn't fit through the button hole. Ugh.

I am at the point where I am questioning if I'm going to get any of this done. I always do, but I have my fits of uncertainty and stress.

Nablopomo post no. 15 - cleaning marathons and rest days.

At one point I was a devotee of FLYLady's method of cleaning and keeping house. I found I had to keep adapting it and adapting it yet again to fit my lifestyle and schedule until it looked very different from her program. Instead of going by the Julian calendar for the basis of my cleaning schedule, I switched to the lunar cycle. There's more consistency in the lunar cycle than there is in the Julian calendar, which makes things easier for me.

I have four major living areas in my home. I was including the entryway but because I wasn't getting paid for the work and it still looked awful when I was done because of dirt ground into the paint, I gave up. Nowadays I sweep the space with a glance and just go out of it. Between filthy neighbors who throw their trash everywhere and the fact that I can't get it truly clean, there's no point. (My eldest son did me a big favor pulling the trash the neighbors dumped into the garden out of there last week.)

My four living areas are the kitchen, bathroom, bedrooms, and the living room. The week after the new moon, I work on the kitchen. The week of the waxing gibbous moon, I work on the bathroom. The week of the full moon, I work on the living room. And the week of the waning gibbous moon, I work on bedrooms.

To some this may look like madness and that I'm engaged in panic cleaning for the whole month. But that's not completely true. The three days around the new and the full moon, I have a rest period. If a holiday falls during the week, I take a day off from cleaning to observe it. And I'm not spending all day cleaning, just 15 to 30 minutes. I have been trying to get my sons in on this. My eldest is finally starting to fall into the rhythm of it. He's been helping out with daily chores like dishes. We work on them for 15 minutes and then he's done. My youngest is still very scattershot about cleaning. When he focuses and stays on task he does a great job. But that ADHD makes it hard for him to focus. Beloved and I think it is a maturity thing and over the next two years he'll make some leaps and start falling into the cleaning rhythm too. 

Nablopomo post no. 14: My thoughts on Trulicity at this time.

 Sure, I messed up my first dose. I am not familiar with injecting myself with anything. I watch very carefully when the professionals do it. I do my very best to follow their directions on this self-service angle. I'm trying to keep my dear Beloved out of this process because he has a mild phobia of needles. (Hence why we're both hoping that neither of us are going to need insulin at some point living with type 2 diabetes.)

Even with a partial dose in me, the Trulicity has done wonders. I'm not starving all the time. As a result, my anxiety levels have dropped significantly. I just about cried when I finished a meal and I didn't feel the need to eat a second one. I am so full of gratitude. 

Growing up in a household where you were starved and beaten for 'sneak eating', you eventually fall into an unhealthy cycle of gorging when you're allowed to eat and starving when you're not. This has permanently messed up my relationship with food. It's part of the reason why I'm going back into therapy. The Trulicity has helped a great deal but it's a band aid over a gaping wound.

Nablopomo post no. 13 - Pumpkin Pecan Pie is Delicious.

 As Beloved were working on our plot to basically take over thanksgiving cooking so that all his parents had to do was sit and enjoy themselves, he discovered the cook book my Aunt and her wife made back in the mid-1990s as Yule presents for the whole family. He drooled over many items and then he saw the Pumpkin Pecan Pie. It had been so many years since I had a slice I couldn't remember the taste of it. He decided that aside from the diabetic friendly dressing that had been requested, we were going to make a diabetic friendly version of that pie.

He took his first crack at it right after learning how to make a pie crust from his Mom. I warned him that sugar subs. lie when they say you can measure them 1:1 for sugar in baking. It's a 1:2 ratio. I found that out the hard way a few years back trying to make cookies. We agreed that corn syrup is liquid sugar and we should try to avoid it. The attempt to keep the pecan topping to one side of the pie didn't exactly work. I blame the corn syrup. So, now I'm on the hunt for a sugar free/low carb replacement for corn syrup.

We each had a sliver of the pumpkin half of the pie and it came out great. Then I mentioned that I found a recipe for crustless pumpkin pie and that apple crisp is actually diabetic friendly. Beloved's mother said we had to bring the crustless pumpkin pie too.

So, I think I need to buy a new pie plate. lol

Nablopomo post no 12: Embroidery

 I started this project back during the summer to keep me from being bonkers with stress. It's a quote from the Filianic scriptures. I designed this freehand.

The lettering and the centers of the flowers are done using DMC's floss no. 799. The petals on the blossoms are using JP Coates 158. The hearts are a variegated red-pink from Designs for the Needles with out a dye lot number. And the leaves and stems are worked with Designs for the Needle's number 826.

This is a sample of sorts. The lettering is running stitch. The stems are too. The centers of the blossoms are Rhode's stitch. The petals are satin stitch. The leaves are closed fly stitch. The hearts are satin stitch. The one on the upper right is properly done satin stitch inside a running stitch border. The one on the lower left was just randomly laid satin stitches inside a running stitch border. I should have gone with proper satin stitch.

Nablopomo post no. 11? - almost a week behind, ugh.

 It has been an eventful several days, namely between my shoulder acting up and medical crap. I got a phone call from the CPAP monitoring people associated with the pharmacy/medical supply group that I picked it up at. They said that I had to use it a minimum of 4 hours every night for insurance purposes. I explained that we were still rearranging furniture in the smol bedroom that I have so that we could set it up. Last night, all of that got sorted out and we set up the CPAP. 

It was supposed to help me sleep. It did not. I woke up several times with an exceedingly dry mouth and just feeling rotten. The sleep report said that the mouth seal of the mask was bad. I kept trying to adjust it when I woke and nothing seemed to work. I literally have no clue what I'm doing. What I do know is that the humidifier on the thing is just about empty after one night's use. The air in the apartment is too dry. I have an ancient room humidifier that I could put in the living room to get some more moisture in the air, but I don't know how well that will work.

Liberal application of icy hot and gentle stretches of my left shoulder seems to be helping. It's been an uncomfortable last few days. I started the Trulicity Saturday morning. I don't think I did the injection right because I heard some kind of a squirting noise as I removed the needle. I have a feeling that a good portion of the medicine ran down my stomach because I have been seeing my blood sugar creep higher. I still am not feeling like I'm starving, so I know it is in my system. But the higher blood sugar makes me exhausted.

And did I mention I had to cancel the boys' therapy appointments today because of a migraine. It's not been a good day. I wanted to get some writing done and get caught up. I don't think getting caught up is going to happen.

Nablopomo post no. 10 - Not again!

 The bursitis in my right shoulder is healed up. I can move it easily and comfortably. I can even sleep on that side. But now my left shoulder is cramped up like nobody's business. I've been applying heat and cold to it in the hopes that it would loosen up. It's not really doing much and my range of motion is a bit limited. I know, however, this is all muscular because it hurts in the muscles, not the joint.

I tend to carry my stress in my shoulders. I have a lot of things health wise to be stressed about. I'm starting a new diabetes medication tomorrow morning. It's called Trulicity and it is supposed to help keep my appetite in check and help me lower my A1C. I simply can't push through this on will power alone. It's bringing up terrible memories from when I was a child and my parents were starving me because the worst thing I could be was fat. It's bringing up very old habits that are not good for me. 

Sneak eating and binging followed by fasting is pretty much what I did as a kid. I didn't have the hallmark symptoms of anorexia but I had the behaviors. I wasn't afraid I was fat. I didn't think I was fat when I looked in the mirror. I was terrified that my access to food would be revoked because it was treated as a privilege that I had to earn. There's a lot more horror to this particular story but I'm not going to put it down here because I don't want to trigger anyone else who is recovered or struggling with an eating disorder.

I have been psychologically struggling for several months now. It's been particularly brutal when I realized I was falling back into sneak eating. No one was going to beat me for having a healthy meal. No one was going to slap food out of my hand and call me a thief. I have times where I dissociate and stare at our pantry with deep despair. So, my butt is starting therapy again. I have to process this abuse and somehow make my peace with it.

Nablopomo post no. 9 - Planner Pages!

 

What I am holding in my hand is the heart of how I organize things in my life. When I forget to do this, everything turns into disarray and I have the one-two punch of more anxiety and more depression. October was a hard month, as was September, because I was sick and I kept forgetting to keep up with my planner. Let me tell you, before I started using this, I was a mess. I was overwhelmed by everything and panicky a lot. Prior to the templates that you see here, I was drawing out boxes in a notebook and getting pretty intense hand cramps by the time I was done setting up one month of pages. Then Beloved said, "Let's make a template, that'll make the planner easier to use." Trust an engineer to find the solution that streamlines an arduous process. They're good at that stuff.

At the top of the forward facing page is space for me to note the date in a liturgical calendar I follow (part of the whole Filianism thing I have going on), space for me to note the date in the Julian calendar that everybody else uses, and a space to note the day of the week. The column on the right side of the page starts with a reminder/record of how much water I need to drink on a given day. Below it is a reminder/record as to if I had taken all of my daily pills. 

There isn't a checkbox for each pill because I take 12+ medications and it changes on occasion. Following the monitor of medicine compliance, I rate my mood for the day and then I rate my anxiety level for the day on a scale of 1 - 10. A one is horrid and a ten is horrid in it's own way. My goal is to be around a five on the mood scale. On the anxiety scale, I try to be around a five also, because one is apathy and ten is I'm so anxious I am vibrating through space and time as well as seeing sound.

After this comes what is probably the most important thing to track in here, my fasting blood glucose reading. I'm kinda lucky that I just have to check this in the morning. The problem here is forgetfulness will have me go a week either forgetting entirely to take the readings or forgetting to write them down, because my brain just doesn't work quite like it did before and I have memory problems.

The check boxes and lines on the left side of the page are for tasks, errands, appointments, etc. I use it in a fashion that is really similar to Ryder Carrol's Bullet Journal method. I reserve the last line for writing down what we're going to eat for dinner that day. The lined back of the page is for recording notes and a bit of micro-journaling.

Nablopomo post no. 8 - What does this thing do again?

 I had a sleep study done back in September. During the study, I had 11 events per hour. Translation: I stopped breathing 11 times every hour. According to the doctors, when you do that, you briefly wake up to full consciousness to breathe and then fall back to sleep, not even remembering it because it was that fast. The sleep specialist prescribed me a CPAP machine. I wasn't sure if they were big and bulky still, like the ones advertised in the 90s. I wasn't sure about pretty much anything except for the fact that if I was having problems breathing then I need to do something about it.

I picked it up today. I was surprised that the health insurance didn't make a stink about the fact I was getting some medical equipment. The way they get over my prescription medication, I figured this was going to functionally cost an arm and a leg. It was a pleasant surprise that the cost of everything could fit into my budget because of how much the insurance covered.

CPAP is an acronym that stands for continuous positive airway pressure. Basically, I put on a mask (no, I didn't come out looking like Darth Vader) and the machine continually blows air into my airway. This prevents things like my tongue blocking my airway. I look rather silly with the whole get up on but it was shockingly comfortable. I was given a brief lesson on how to service it and what to use to clean it. There are parts I clean everyday and parts that I clean every two weeks. It was all rather interesting. The sales person basically disassembled the entire machine and named all the parts, told me how they work, and how to take care of them.

There wasn't any pressure (ha, stupid pun is stupid!) to purchase anything. If I had gotten up and walked out with out the equipment, there'd be no hard feelings. Confusion, yes, but there wasn't the typical sales attitude that you encounter in so many other specialty shops. That right there convinced me that if I am in need of other specialized medical equipment at some point, I'm going to work with these people. The emphasis of the whole experience was explaining how the equipment worked, what to expect out of using it, and things to take into consideration during use. I was expecting things to work differently and not be so ... pleasant.

Nablopomo post no. 7: Halp!

 I have six other blogs to update. O.O

This is what I get for being an overachiever.

Nablopomo post no. 6 - I hate menu planning.

 I seriously have come to hate over the last six years of having diabetes menu planning. And yet, here we are attempting to plan Thanksgiving dinner for three diabetics and a host of non-diabetics. This started out as Beloved attempting to plan everything so that his mom didn't have to cook. Not a bad idea when she's been struggling with balance issues for a few months now. (Her doctors are mystified, she's just accepted it as part of growing older.)

Unaware that the other relatives were planning things as well, we almost had a complete menu put together for his mom to approve. It has now turned into we're making the sides and desserts for us diabetics (and a special pie for his mom). I have been scouring my cookbooks and getting rather vexed. Portions are tiny. Much of it is not very appetizing. I just want to yeet the books out the window and call it done. Looking on the internet is even worse. I'm sorry but corn syrup is not a diabetic friendly sugar sub. It's liquid sugar!

Then there are the misfiled recipes that are for people with heart disease rather than diabetes. I suppose they could be useful. If they hit both the categories, it'd be perfect. Because there are more people at the table with heart disease than diabetes. But those recipes seem to be impossible to find. *headdesk*

Nablopomo post no. 5? Election day! My birthday! My migraine!

 So, it's election day and I would have gone to vote but this insane weather we're having triggered another (somewhat less severe) migraine. If this is how autumn is going to go, it's going to be awful. My birthday just feels like another Tuesday because of the migraine and all the work I have to get done. It's ok, though, because Beloved and I did something special on Sunday. With how well that went, I'm starting to think that maybe we can do a date night once a month.

The kids just were fantastic about following the rules. They were particularly happy that they got to have extra tablet time while we were out. And, of course, they enjoyed the pizza from their favorite place. Now we have another challenge with the kids and today kinda encapsulates it.

We have been trying to get them to do work around the house (helping out with dishes, folding towels, picking up the floor of the living room so that someone can vacuum it etc.). They just won't do it. This is not a new development. I've been fighting with them on this since they were toddlers. At first they did help out and the novelty wore of in about a month. Since, they just don't help. I've tried making it part of the schedule. I've tried doing group chores on a given day of the weekend. I've tried bribing them with money and food. Nothing works. 

Beloved is going to sit down and have a conversation about how they have to contribute. I've tried having that conversation and it goes in one ear and out the other. Maybe he can reach them. I am really hoping he can. At 14 and 16, they really should be doing some of the chores around here. It's exceedingly vexing. I have a migraine and the kids expect me to carry all the load so they can spend their time playing. It just can't work that way.

Nablopomo Post No. 4 - The Weekend Sucked.

 Both Saturday and Sunday, I woke up stupid early (i.e. 0230) and couldn't fall back to sleep. I wound up knitting for an hour Saturday in the small hours of the morning, hoping it would bore me to sleep. On Sunday, I was doing crochet for an hour. Neither settled my mind and relaxed me enough so I could go to sleep. I resigned myself to being awake for the day at 0330, approximately. Well, Sunday it was again 0230. Either way I was highly annoyed.

The kids behaved well. I felt physically weird and couldn't figure out why. The bursitis in my right shoulder had cleared up, thankfully. But I just didn't feel right and was extra hungry for no apparent reason. Sunday morning that reason became clear - I had a wicked migraine. This shot down Beloved's plans to hang out with his mom and learn how to make a pie crust. He had been looking forward to this for about two weeks.

I spent half of Sunday curled up in a dark room with a blindfold on just to make sure no light was going to stab me in the face. This was one of the rare moments that I was glad the bedroom has no windows. I guess it was around 1600 when I woke up and the Imitrex had worked it's magic. I was so brain fried, however, I just wandered around the apartment.

There was a bright side to the weekend. Beloved took me out to dinner and gave me two presents for my birthday. One was a book about fairytales, folktales, and myths. The other was the accompanying deck of tarot cards. The spot where the old Greek restaurant was is the new location for the Mexican restaurant that we really enjoy.

We happened to sit by chance in our old booth. Things were a little slow because they were busy, but we managed to make it a bit of a romantic moment reminiscing about the early years of our romance. And, for bonus points, the kids did well hanging out at home with a pizza. So, maybe we'll do this again. As long as I don't have a migraine kick my feet out from under me.

NaBloPoMo Post No. 3 - Election day is my birthday?

Yep, you read that right. My mother resented (probably still does) the fact that she didn't get to go vote in her first election because she was in the hospital with me. When I missed election day because I was out of state, she called me to crow about it. I rolled my eyes and hung up, saying I had to study for a test. There was no test the next day.

That said, as a favor to me, please consider the following next week.

 

NaNoBloPoMo Post No. 2 - Why am I exhausted?

 You know how when most people lose a few nights of sleep, they get bags under their eyes? Well, I have a full set of luggage and it isn't quite complete enough to look like I got in a fight. This August marks three years of awful sleep for various known and unknown reasons. We've gone through several neighbors in that next door apartment. Each of them has been loud, with a tendency to fight at full volume at all hours of the night, and had a large dog that howled for them when they weren't home. The noise enough screws with my sleep. It doesn't help with my cptsd. 

I struggle to get back to sleep whilst having flashbacks to my parents fighting over money from when I was a small child. Between their fighting, telling me that I was the reason they were poor, and a lot of other ugly stuff that was said, I guess I was around eight thinking that I'd be more valuable being sold as body parts on the black market and the money funneled to them. Pretty screwed up, eh? So, here I am about two score years later, with those thoughts running around in my head and fear that my parents are going to catch on that I heard them and they're going to beat me for it.

Now, putting that horror aside, I'm in perimenopause. The hormones screw up your sleep cycle there too. It seems like my body is looking for more ways to hate me because I just got a diagnosis of sleep apnea. I get the CPAP machine next week and I'm hoping it helps with that. And that heavy blanket that helps me feel safer at night, it's a weighted one that weighs almost as much as a toddler, seems to be making the sleep apnea worse. So, I may have to give that up. I don't know what a good alternate solution for my night time anxiety will be. 

My psychologist has been a champion through all of this. He's been carefully tailoring my psychiatric medications to try to help with out interfering with my other medications. He's a bit at wits end on this matter to. So, when I got prescribed a sleep consult with the clinic up in the city, he immediately began telling me what to expect (because I was anxious) and about his experience. He also was so kind as to explain what a CPAP machine does and how it has helped him. I came away from that discussion reassured and ready for the video conference with the sleep doctor's PA. 

In that video conference, I got my diagnosis and a very through explanation of everything from what is sleep apnea to how a CPAP machine works. With the discussion of sleep apnea, there was an explanation why I could sleep a whole night through and wake up exhausted. I'm hoping the CPAP machine is the silver bullet on this one.

NaBloPoMo Post No. 1 - Just rambling about bursitis. It sucks.

 I'm not entirely sure what to write in here today. Yesterday was a rotten day. The weather was cold and rainy. We had appointments at opposite ends of the county that I barely got us to on time. I had slept awful the night before because of a persistent ache in my shoulder that started that night. I figured I had shoulder checked a door frame and popped my shoulder out of place again as they day went on and the pain grew worse.

So, after we picked up Beloved from work, the kids were allowed to hang out at home as long as they behaved. (They did, but they completely forgot their bed time routine with the novelty of having the run of the apartment for an hour and a half.) Beloved brought me over to the Urgent Care clinic in the next town over. After some gentle poking and prodding, it was determined that I have bursitis in my right shoulder. This makes things challenging.

My right arm is my dominant arm. While I have this bursitis business going on, I am limited in my range of motion, but I can't wear a sling or I'll wind up with a frozen shoulder. I am finding out the hard way that I can't do things like pick up a full jug of milk. And reaching to the top shelf in the kitchen cabinets is painful. And getting out my cast iron to make dinner ... that's a tactical NOPE there, Ghostrider.

The most frustrating part of this is the fact that I can't do much more than write in my journal or type on here. My kitchen is a straight up disaster from the fact I was sick for two and a half months. I've got a ton of laundry that needs put away. And it doesn't count the other tasks that I have to get done. I tried washing some dishes. I did light stuff, like plastic and silverware. Now my shoulder is registering a formal complaint at full volume. Capslock is my body's native language. Ugh.

Yule project list 2023

 Well, I have two seasons that I do work in. The spinning and fiber prep for spinning happens during the light half of the year where I can see better what I'm doing and can actually take a walk while spinning. (My preferred method of spinning is medieval style with a distaff and drop spindle. One of these days I will acquire a medieval stick spindle and some whorls. Then it'll be glorious to confuse the neighbors as I draw out thread and make it look like the spindle is levitating.) The dark half of the year, I make things like gifts for Yule and such.

Here is my project list so far:

Cuddle Bear's very late sweater (I'm finally past the halfway mark on this project and may actually get it done in time.)

Snuggle Bug's yellow bear stuffie patterned after a FNAF character

K. 's tea service set (I'm testing the pattern now to make sure if there's any errors I can fix them. This is a crochet set.)

T. 's fabric dice to go in his restored Pontiac Chieftain wagon

K. & R.'s Diabetic Recipe book (This will be written out by hand in an A5 notebook. Some of the recipes are my own and others I've collected off the internet, which will be cited in endnotes.)

T.'s tea service set (Based off of the pattern I'm testing, it looks like it can be done not just in single crochet but also in Tunisian crochet.)

More preemie hats to be donated by December. (I am hoping a solid deadline means I can get that box filled up.)

More things will be added to the list as I go on and finish projects in the works.

Some rambling thoughts on parenting teenagers.

 Hi, All!

So, my eldest son keeps insisting that his one desire when he finishes high school is to leave the country. He's been saying that a lot over the last few months. Every time he says it, my heart breaks a little bit. I sit there and say to myself is this because I walked away from my side of the family (with the exception of a few people).  Is this how he thinks things are supposed to work? You grow up and just walk away.

We've done our best to explain to him how a large number of people on my side of the family are toxic if not dangerous for them to be around. He launches into rants about how this country is turning into a facist state. (This is what we get for making sure he was well educated about WWII and the consequences of such types of governments.) He talks about how much he hates this country on the basis of all the past injustices against everyone you can think of and the ongoing bigotry and policy making based in hate. I don't blame him or begrudge his feelings. He just wants to leave before the country collapses. I don't know if it is going to collapse, but he's insisting it will and it will be like Nazi Germany when it happens.

This kid is no dummy. His arguments are well thought out and fairly sound. He gets ticked off with counter arguments that tell him that staying in the country is a better option than risking being off in another country with no idea what it's like there or how to speak the language.

Still, he's breaking my heart.

My youngest son keeps insisting his one desire is to be a roboticist. He understands that means college. He wants to get there as fast as possible so he can start building animatronic robots. He's been fascinated with them for years. His response to his brother's desire to flee the country is "You'll come back and see us, right?" He gets upset at the idea of his big brother just disappearing out of his life. They're real close. They think a lot a like, which means there's a fair amount of bickering. (Thank you Beloved for the noise cancelling headphones.) But my youngest son at 14 years old has a huge heart and worries for his brother. And I can't console him.

This is the rough part of being a parent.

Prompts No. 1

 Because I have so much difficulty writing of late, I have turned to my prompt box and I'm going to try to write daily posts on the basis of prompts. I can't promise success, but I am going to try.

Today's prompt: How much of yourself do you keep hidden?

Well, this one is a gut punch. I keep a large amount of myself hidden. I have lots of emotional scars, my personality is fracture (to put it lightly), and a great many things that I'm terrified of that I force my way through just because it needs to be done. I have this attitude that I must push through whatever hardship I am dealing with (like walking pneumonia right now) and make things happen. It was instilled into me by parents who didn't believe me when I was sick and repeatedly accused me of being lazy when I was trying to rest and get over being sick. I remember very clearly them telling our family doctor that I was a hypochondriac before I could even begin describing my symptoms. Cue a different doctor thirty years later saying I have textbook arthritis in my knees and have had it all my life.

I hide my pain with sardonic comments, redirecting things to other people and their needs, and excessive cheerfulness when it's really bad. When I had appendicitis, I was cracking jokes with tears in my eyes from the pain. The nursing staff was disturbed by this, partly because those jokes were really dark. Then I got the morphine (which I am now allergic to the whole family of pain medications, yay!) and the jokes got darker and twisted. Why, because I could make myself shut up. It was an experience and a half.

I also hide things that are precious and deserving to be shared with the world because of how scarred my metaphorical heart is from years of harassment and bullying. I'm scared to share my paintings because of how often people told me they were garbage. Once, a painting that I was really proud of that I gave my parents as an anniversary present, they gave back to me with a comment 'I believe this is yours.' also known as 'Take it or we're going to get rid of it.' It hurt. That painting now hangs in my kitchen. It's a view of the prettiest place on the family farm during autumn, up by the pond looking out over the valley.

I try to hide my pride and do my best to remain humble and genial. But when I get insulted, I have a rush of adrenalin and I'm ready to fight. Honestly, that's the hard one to keep under my hat. For too long have I born insults and snide comments over the last 44 years from people around me, often in the form of backhanded jokes or 'constructive criticism.' I try to just let it pass over me like water around a stone. It's really hard, though.

Now that I've word vomited my way through this post and overshared too many things, I am going to attempt to write something else on another blog. Fortunately, my prompt box covers a really wide range of topics. 

I feel like garbage but I'm getting stuff done.

I have conceded defeat on the hair front. I had always hoped that I was going to have the long, snow white, gorgeous hair that my great-grandmother Hazel had. Female pattern baldness is setting in and my hair is thinning and starting to come out in great chunks. My hair dresser said to me that stress can do it. She's been watching my hair go white real time over the last few months. I wanted to believe her and that if my stress levels went down, I could have my long hair again. Then I took a shower and noticed how much of my scalp I could see. I almost sat down and cried. I am not a vain person but my hair was a trait I took pride in. My philosophy was always I could do what ever I want with it and it would grow back. Now that's not so sure. So, this past weekend, Beloved helped me to shave my head. 

My argument was if Sinead O'Connor could pull it off, I could too. Here's the before picture, if you haven't seen it on FB or Instagram. If you look carefully you can see where one of the thin spots in the front is. And the lack of balance between the hair on both sides, because the other thin spot that shed enough hair to make a small mouse in the span of two days is across from the cowlick holding straight up on the left side.

I was a little nervous about this picture. I was disappointed I couldn't keep rocking the faux hawk that I loved to do over the last few years. It was fun confusing my father-in-law with it. The look was very agender and with how I carry myself, it tended toward a masc feeling. He blue screened the first time he saw it. I had someone mistakenly call me 'sir' and I laughed, at which point they blushed beautifully and stumbled over an apology.

It makes me wonder what the new look is going to get response wise. As of the moment, I am getting back into my scarves and figuring out how to work this with out a quarter mile of hair to twist into a bun to hold the looks into place. I will

probably be purchasing a few items to help me with my scarves. Wrapunzel has a velvet shaper, I may be lucky and find one that is small enough for my head and at a reasonable price.

The new look came with a new accessory. I confess, I love wearing a collar. The edgier the better. It's in stark contrast with what people who have known me most of my life expect and lets me play around with looks that I've always admired. I found this collar with the hearts and spikey studs on it as Spirit Halloween of all places for $12. It has nickel in the hearts, so I had to paint them with nail polish to protect my skin from it.

But it's totally worth it. Now I just have to figure out how to move forward on some other clothing transformations for my look. I have enough flexability that I can do Mom Goth to Laundry Day Goth. (The latter being when my outfit matches my colorful, floral print combat style boots.)

I'd be more excited about all of this if I wasn't sick and way behind on chores. As of the moment, I am blogging when I really should be watering plants and washing dishes. I spent my whole morning on getting the mass of papers on the desk sorted out. I found correspondence dating back to 2017. I should have done this a long time ago. Tomorrow I will be filing everything, including the huge pile of papers on the baker's rack in the kitchen. I would get some work done, sit down to rest and fall asleep for a half hour. Stupid pneumonia just is kicking my butt. At least I look kinda cool.

Exhausted but upright anyways.

 I am working with a sleep clinic that posts their results in a file that I and my care team can read together. I am not expert on sleep apnea but I suspect that the doctor who runs the clinic is going to have some things to say that I don't want to hear. Like that I have some form of sleep apnea and that one night of the two night test, I did stop breathing. I'm trying to steel myself for this potential but it is as vague and intangible as the air itself. I can not grasp a handful of the wind and put it in my chest.

Looking at the reports surrounding the pneumonia stuff, I really hope that this damn business starts to clear up. Otherwise, I might have a real problem on my hands. I am frustrated and tired. I can't sleep well. I can't breathe well. I am having difficulty coughing up the gunk in my chest because I can't breathe well. I don't know what the medical solution is but around the end of next month I get another chest x-ray and find out if my general practitioner sees that nothing's changed. 

If there is scarring in my lungs I don't have any idea where it could have come from. I was born a preemie and I had breathing difficulties when I was itty-bitty. I had asthma but my lovely parents couldn't be bothered to make sure it got treated and regularly had me doing things that triggered what I now know to be asthma attacks. Bonus points here, because they smoked like chimneys and the white walls of their house were a tacky yellow by the time I was old enough to tell colors. 

Yes, I argued with my parents that the walls were not white like the paper in my books. That went over like a lead balloon. It wasn't too long after that I was getting exposed to asthma triggers and being left gasping for breath as my parents told me to toughen up as I hurt while breathing.

The sleep thing is awful. I have nightmares every night of something horrible. Either it's a flashback thrown into a blender with Salvadore Dali's art style or classic staircase wit where I have screaming arguments with my parents for accusing me of being a drug addict. They started that at ten. I didn't have access to drugs. We lived in the middle of nowhere and the closest thing to a drug dealer in our neighborhood was dairy cows. Because we all know the intoxicating effects of whole milk, right? 

This is not going as planned.

 My chest x-ray showed haziness in my left lower lung. This is no difference from the last one, except for the region is a bit bigger now. I woke up this morning with cold symptoms and a very sore throat. So, at my appointment to discuss the x-ray, my doctor and I agreed that a covid test to rule it out as a complication was a wise decision. If I have covid again, I am going to be highly irritated. Last time, I was 3 weeks flat on my back, coughing and hacking. I did ask if the haziness the x-ray showed could possibly be scarring in my lungs. The doctor shrugged and said it was possible but given my other symptoms, pneumonia was more likely.

For all these people saying the covid tests administered by doctor offices are awful, it wasn't a terrible experience for me. Irritating, yes, but nothing like when I had my sinuses scoped about twenty years ago. For one thing, it was a lot faster. Secondly, the doctor wasn't wiggling the thing around in my nose. On the whole, the 'real' covid test wasn't any worse than the at home one. Heck, it was kinda easier because I didn't have to do anything but sit there and don't sneeze.

I have my diabetes follow up appointment with the doctor in a month. He wants me to get another chest x-ray a few days before hand to see if the antibiotics that have been prescribed this time will clear up that haziness in the last two exams. I hope it will. This whole time, I've been tired and feeling like garbage with my chest aching a lot. 

When they weighed me at the beginning of the visit, I saw that I gained about three pounds. Now, I know the weather's getting colder but I wasn't wearing my boots and heavy weather gear. This has been stress eating due to a number of things going on right now. I'm trying to stop doing it but it's proving really hard. I'm trying to get back to food logging and that is really hard. Which is stupid because all it is, really, is writing down a quick note when I eat. But between the stress eating and the food logging stuff, I am finding myself struggling with the urge to cut down how much I eat in a big way.

I don't really know how to describe my relationship with food beyond saying it's very complicated and hurtful. Between the diabetes and my history of anorexia (instilled in me by my insane mom who insisted whenever she caught me eating as a child that I was eating too much and my brothers were going to starve because of me, I was 5 when I started skipping meals) my emotional response is mixed. I love to cook for people. But that's been dialed way back by anxiety that I can't eat what is 'normal' food. It's a mess, folks.

I've got the next month to try to get my eating habits back to what they were last summer and lose those three pounds. Three pounds doesn't sound like a big deal, but it kinda is because when my weight goes up so does my A1C numbers. I am scared right now. I hate being sick and I hate how it reminds me of being sick as a kid where things were ugly. 

I now have a working computer, huzzah!

 Around the time of my last post (no joke), my computer died. I went to my old Win 8 box and discovered it was well and truly dead. And filled with  moth larvae corpses. It wasn't pretty. So, I looked around and found a place that fixes computers and pretty much all tech equipment. (They also have a good sense of humor.) 

Approximately the same time as I got my computers into the tech shop, I got aspirational pneumonia. I have been having sleep problems for over a year now. I woke up one night choking on phlegm, acid reflux, and saliva. To say the least it was unpleasant. I coughed and hacked for an hour. Somewhere in that time period, I inhaled the mixture. Next day, I called the doctor at one of the other offices for the family practice we go to because it was the day that the office of our doctor was closed. I spoked with the doctor at the other office and explained the situation. They put me on an antibiotic and told me to get a chest x-ray. 

This x-ray showed a couple of spots of pneumonia in my chest on the lower left lobe of my lungs. I was put on a stronger antibiotic and told to follow up with my primary care doctor. So, I go and do that. And the unexpected happens. 

He asks me if I have a fever and goes to check me with a temporal thermometer. I answer that I don't and my normal body temperature is 96.8, roughly two degrees lower than normal. Well, the doctor was shocked when I said that. He said that everyone's core temperature is 98.6 in a most offended tone and insisted that my thermometer is calibrated wrong. I was so surprised by his response that I didn't say that every thermometer ever used on me read that when I was healthy since I was a small child and that I believed the lack of subcutaneous fat (that's the one that insulates your body just under your skin) was the reason why. Normally, our interactions are much calmer and generally genial and pleasant, no matter how rotten I feel.

Still, after this moment of awkwardness, we got back on topic and he prescribed a stronger antibiotic and told me to get a second x-ray in two weeks. That was last Saturday and the results are not in the computer system yet for me to view. I am hopeful that Dr. E. has them and can tell me if the pneumonia is getting better or worse. I feel awful. Initially, I didn't feel that bad. Now I am at the point where my left side hurts. All through this I had no urge to cough (which I suspect is a very bad thing) and my peak flow meter for my lungs is in the middle of my yellow range, tending lower as time goes on. I hate albuterol but I use it when I feel wheezy and like I can't breathe.

I got my computers back last week. The old Win 8 machine is now a Win 10 box because there was no way to salvage it and I was lucky that it still worked. I don't entirely know what I'm going to do with two computers. I'm considering dedicating the older computer to just messing around and doing stuff like playing games. This one, however, I am going to focus on using it for work like stuff. Fortunately, I backed everything up on these machines before they went kaput on me.

On the health front, I'm still dealing with pneumonia. I have a follow up appointment with Dr. E. tomorrow to talk about the chest x-ray. Last week, I did a sleep study and I'll be talking to Dr. M. about the results in a month. Apparently that was the earliest that they could book me to see the sleep doctor. There are other doctors on his team that he has me booked to see, like a sleep psychologist to discuss my nightmare problem. And I still have to get my blood work done to see how I am doing with my diabetes. So, I am a little nervous about my health. My last test had an A1C of 7.5 which isn't gods awful but it's not good. It was a steep jump from where I was at before (6.1). 

I'm trying to control my eating habits but it's really hard. I've also been somewhat depressed about things for various reasons and self soothing by way of food. Sounds weird that a former anorexic will do that, but there you go. I have been getting a little more exercise and then I got the damn pneumonia which makes doing more than crossing the room at a brisk stride tiring. As this wears on, I just feel worse and have no urge to cough. It's scary.

No Menu, but there is more malarky

 Cuddle Bear did not only claim the jacket for himself, he asked for a fedora to go with it. I was searching all over for the compass he asked for as a birthday present and couldn't find one. I'm going to keep looking. But between the had, the sunglasses and the rest of his look, I was half expecting him to quote Blues Brothers (We're on a mission from God.) or ask me when I am going to be giving my weekly protection payment to the Don. 

His small birthday party was yesterday. We had pizza and cupcakes. Well, the guys had pizza and cupcakes. I had a salad. It was another 'oh damn diabetes" moment. Let me tell you, those chocolate cupcakes looked delicious. We didn't have any guests over because we weren't sure how to get a hold of his friends.

Originally the plan was to have the party at his grandparent's house, but they are feeling under the weather. Instead of delaying the party, they told us to go ahead and hold it at home. They'll let us know when things are favorable for visiting.

Snuggle Bug has been all about his skateboard where as Cuddle Bear is a bit gun-shy about the whole affair. Balancing on it while standing is proving very challenging for both the guys. Snuggle Bug figured out how to sit on it and make it move with a stick. Not only that, he figured out how to use the stick as a brake. It was interesting and amusing to watch. 

As soon as Cuddle Bear got the hat to go with his jacket and sunglasses look, we started talking about suits for formal occasions. I don't know if he wants to go to homecoming. He isn't into school spirit stuff. But he does want to go to prom when it comes up. We talked about it and I convinced him that a tux for prom wasn't necessary. At some point, we're going to find him a pinstriped suit like his hat and a nice tie. This way he's got himself a suit he can wear to special occasions. And that he can wear on a job interview. Plan it a size big and it'll last him a while. Of course, I could see Beloved insisting he wear one of his wacky, garish ties in his collection to prom. We'll burn that bridge when we get to it.

I can't believe the kids are 16 and 14. Time flies, folks.

Needlework!

 

Above are my latest embroidery projects. The fan with the butterflies that was started by my late Grandmother K. is finished and framed. I altered the pattern some because the extra bits they wanted done would have hidden the stitch definition. The top right is my project of the day with a favorite quote on it. I put up a vote for how the flowers should look. The internet answered lavender petals and blue centers. The project on the left is stalled because black 12 point Aida cloth is a real headache to work on. It is a sampler. I'm going to finish it this year. I am going to continue the black and white theme. All the stitches on there are crossed stitches. If I can manage it, I'll only be using crossed stitches for this project. It looks cool, but it's painful to work on.

How do you get rid of moths?

 Hi, folks!

My week has been challenging and just kinda crappy. I'm not going to go on about it. It's enough to say that hormones are not fun for teenagers or middle aged women. I'd say next lifetime, I'm going to be masc but with my luck I would incarnate as a masculine seahorse or something similar. Anyways, I've got a moth in the apartment. It's been fluttering about and driving all of us mad. Once the kids realized that it would eat my spinning fiber, they have been trying to catch it. One wants to squish it (Cuddle Bear) and one wants to release it outside (Snuggle Bug). Their debates on how to catch it and what to do with it have been entertaining because of how voraciously they argue their points.

They both like 'cute' things, but they argue weather or not the cuteness factor is enough to let the moth live. At one point a suggestion was put forth to keep the moth as a pet and feed it wee bits of fiber. I put the kybash on that idea. One moth leads to forty-two in quick order. I'm just hoping it gets caught in a spider web and the spider handles it all. I tried to catch it this morning and I missed the thing by a quarter of an inch. So, I've left it to the spiders' domain.

The ironic thing about this, in a stupid way, is I am wearing my socks with butterflies on them. Butterflies the more colorful and socially acceptable cousins of the moth. I just don't want it eating my plants or my fiber. I can't throw mothballs at it and make it go away. But I have all my wool and other fiber packed up except for my current project. And it has already taken a few nibbles at that. Ugh.

My kid now owns the jacket.

 I bought this awesome jacket at the thrift store. It was worn in just the right ways. I had fallen in love with it's asymmetrical look. When I tried it on at home it was a bit tight in the shoulders, but I could work with that. I was going to punk it out. Then I discovered that it didn't agree with my waistline. On a whim, I handed it to Cuddle Bear to try on. By Jove, that boy looked amazing in it. So, now he owns my jacket.

Cuddle Bear looking serious.
Super Serious.

It has been an eventful few days.

 Last Saturday was Snuggle Bug's 14th birthday. His class at school made a boat shaped like a manatee with googly eyes because of how the painted beach balls bounced on the waves. At first, the Regatta was scheduled for Saturday. We went over to the park early and then I got a text message that it was postponed to Sunday on account of incoming inclement weather. So, the kids got to play at the park for a bit and then we went home.

They got their skateboards. It was early for Cuddle Bear to get that gift but we wanted him to have time to play around with it. He got frustrated with trying to balance on the thing and said 'Nope, I can't do it.' before walking into the house and putting it away. His brother, on the other hand, figured out how to use it sitting down and crouching on it. Beloved has a feeling that where Cuddle Bear taught Snuggle Bug how to use his bike, Snuggle Bug may be teaching Cuddle Bear how to use his skateboard.

It has been a few days and Cuddle Bear's skateboard remains where he put it. Who knows what will come of this. Neither Beloved or I know how to use a skateboard but we thought the principle of it was simple enough that both of the boys would pick it up pretty fast. *shrugs* You can never guess what's going to happen around here.

Last Sunday was the Regatta. Snuggle Bug actually got on board of the 'Majestic Manatee' and was the unofficial captain. He sat in the middle of their googly eyed boat as others rowed. Last year, there was some boats that sank. It was a close thing with the Manatee a few moments. But they stayed upright in the water and made it back to the dock. They won an award for the slowest trip around the course, because none of the boats sank, not even the recycled cardboard boat. (The recycled cardboard boat turned out to be the fastest. It started coming apart when it was taken out of the water.) The award for most spectacular sinking got repurposed for their award. They also won family favorite for design. I am pretty sure it was the googly eyes that did it.

While Snuggle Bug was on his ship, Cuddle Bear started jogging laps around the park. By the end of Snuggle Bug's course around the buoys that marked the race perimeter, Cuddle Bear was warm and looking for a drink. So, I bought the boys some refreshments and let them have their run of the park for a little while before we went home. Because our plans for an actual party for Snuggle Bug's birthday fell through, we just casually celebrated through out the day. He got his gifts and he was delighted to have another bit of Poppy Playtime merchandise. (This kid is collecting merchandise from his favorite two horror games and rewriting the backstory of the characters. It's been interesting.)

Dinner was pizza from our local delivery place. For some reason my typical order of a salad with extra meat got an excited response from one of the staff. Apparently they thought this was really cool. *shrugs* I don't understand other people. Snuggle Bug had ice cream for dessert. We bought Cuddle Bear a brownie because he doesn't like hard ice cream. Turns out that they changed their brownie recipe and drowned it in chocolate sauce. Cuddle Bear gave it a try and told me that the chocolate sauce was a weird feeling in his mouth and the brownie soaked with chocolate sauce felt all wrong. He said the taste was ok, but he couldn't stand the textures. Such is life with people with food sensitivities.

Beloved was kind enough to eat the evidence later. I felt a bit off through the weekend and then Monday this bug hit me like a hammer. I was feeling so rotten in such an odd way, I tested myself for Covid. The test was negative, thankfully. Beloved suggested that I might have picked up a stomach bug from him because he hadn't been feeling too great over the last several days. I slept through most of the day and went to bed exhausted. For a little bit, it looked like I only had Gas-X to handle my stomach symptoms.

This morning, I still felt off but I had errands to do. Thus I called the pharmacist to ask if good ol' Pepto was going to conflict with my laundry list of medications. I was relieved to hear that it wouldn't. So when I picked up the various things we needed at the store and our prescriptions, I got a box of tablets. My first dose and I felt so much better. I had forgotten how effective it is at settling upset stomachs. For the last four years, I thought I couldn't take it. So, I suffered through various stomach bugs for no reason but my ignorance.

I am now working with a sleep specialist to figure out why in hell I can't get to sleep and stay asleep for the last two years. They are suggesting a preliminary possibility of sleep apnea and a need to have behavioral therapy to fix my sleep habits. In September, I have the in-home sleep study. In October, I have the follow up to discuss my results. And in February of next year, I see their sleep psychologist for an initial intake appointment. 

I kinda feel like I've bit off more than I can chew. But, if I can get back to getting a decent night's sleep, that'd be wonderful.

No menu, just malarky.

 Hey folks!

I'd have made a menu yesterday and posted it today but ... well, the kids happened. They've been extra silly over the last several days and I'm having a hard time keeping up with it. Blanket fort shenanigans, jump scares around corners, making monster noises at each other, and the occasional bickering has my head spinning. I thought that this kinda stuff was stuff they grew out of. Apparently if they get sufficiently bored, my boys will start up with this. I must admit, it was funny to see Cuddle Bear in the blanket fort with most of his body sticking out because he didn't fit. I snapped a picture of it and sent it to Beloved. He cracked up.

When they started to get bored with surprising each other by randomly poking their hands out, Cuddle Bear grabbed his big bag of clean blankets to make his own blanket fort in his bed. If only I could get them to pick up the laundry. Maybe later, after they get some of this goofiness out of their system.

I don't have a menu, but summer feels like it's turning into a Nine Inch Nails song: Everyday is the Same. I've been tutoring Cuddle Bear in Algebra for the last several weeks. We've hit a point where my scrambled brain is trying to do calculus and linear algebra on his work. It made today very frustrating for both of us. Add into this mix the fact that his new scientific calculator is not operating on the decimal system, it's been rather vexing. We tried to find the instruction booklet but it is missing in action. We'll probably find it in September.

Snuggle Bug is doing pretty well with summer school. I don't know if his class is going to be making something for the "Anything that Floats" regatta happening at the end of the month. Last year they won Family Favorite. We've talked about going to it again. Both boys are hoping to see their friends at it. And, to be honest, I hope they get to. They've been a bit miserable and grumpy because they haven't seen any of their friends since the end of school. Snuggle Bug has made a few new friends but mostly he is pretty lonely even at school.

Monday Menu

 Sunday is the day we go over to the in-laws' house and have dinner twice a month. I know that Beloved is planning a big batch of deviled eggs and I have no idea what else he has in mind. To say the least, it is going to be an adventure. It could be anything from lamb curry to hamburgers. I'm really proud of how his cooking skills are improving and he is getting joy out of it. Also, if you come between me and his lamb chili I will gnaw your arm off, just a warning.

Here's this week's menu:

Day	Breakfast	Lunch	Dinner
Sun	yogurt with granola coffee	salad w/ leftover pulled pork	tbd
Mon	yogurt coffee granola	chicken sand. chips	hamburgers almond milk
Tues	yogurt coffee granola	leftovers	tacos/ taco salad diet soda
Wed	yogurt coffee Eng. muffin w/ egg	egg salad sandwich chips	pulled pork cheesy potatoes iced tea
Thurs	yogurt granola coffee	leftovers salad	sandwich night water
Fri	yogurt coffee granola	chopped salad w/ tuna water	chicken nuggets/ fish salad water
Sat	yogurt granola coffee	turkey sand. chips iced tea	take out diet soda

Some ramblings about life and potholes.

 Hey y'all. 

My street got 'fixed' by the WSA (Water and Sewer Authority) and has so many potholes that I feel like I'm playing Frogger when I'm driving and trying to avoid them. The last time they fixed something, stuff broke and we didn't have water for the day. I'm pretty sure these guys are a menace to society, not because they're bad people but because they put gravel into potholes instead of actually repairing them. I'm half tempted to get some driveway sealant from the hardware store up the road and fill in the gap around the pothole and the sewer lid.

Now, this fuckery is not entirely the WSA's fault. The highway department paved over all the manholes two years ago and screwed up the road so that it has issues on top of issues. And yet, for all of this work, the railroad tracks are a nightmare. The tracks are ok, but the crossing is just about nothing but gravel and two car eating potholes. The railroad is working on that this week. Here's hoping they're better than WSA or the highway department.

I have seen people loose mufflers off of their cars because of these potholes at the tracks. Fools and people who are not from around here will go over those tracks at full speed and damage their vehicle. It's been a hazard for a while and I'm glad it is getting worked on, I just hope that it improves the drivability of the street. Our speed limit is 35 mph but sometimes you have to go 15 because the road is just that bad. Oh, one more detail I forgot to mention. This part is sheer stupidity and someone is probably going to get hurt because of it. There's a small rise and at the top of the rise it says lane closed. You pop over it and the eastbound lane is closed for the space of about a car length. But it's a double solid and a blind rise. Murder on the eyes in the morning and you hope that nobody's derping in the road on that rise because of the sun burning your corneas to a crisp. Yeah, that's been interesting. Nothing like playing chicken because the WSA couldn't fix something properly.

I've been struggling to stay on top of everything, but I am slowing getting back into my groove. Tutoring Cuddle Bear has been eye opening. This young man is going into be a high school junior this fall. He's bright, he's charming (when he feels like it), and is really focused on learning as much as he can. Things we already know. It was realizing that through middle school they short changed him on mathematics. He and I have been working through a Spectrum Math workbook focused on algebra. We finished the pre-algebra chapter this week and it became clear that they were having him working on elementary school material, not grade appropriate work.

I understand a special education classroom is a juggling act when you have students at multiple grade levels in there and it gets even more difficult when you are dealing with  learning disorders and stuff like people who need communication aids. I did this work before I had kids. It's hard and at the end of the day you are exhausted. It doesn't change the fact that you have to meet the kids at their level. My boys are smart enough to pick up algebra and geometry. How do I know that? By how they whip through some damn complicated concepts (who here remembers the identity property of zero?). 

Now I am investigating things like how was he taught English, what Science classes did he get skipped over on, what are they refusing to teach my sons because they have autism. I'm mad as hell. In his IEP reports, his teachers were saying that he was struggling with algebra because he came into the class unprepared for it. He should have been prepared. That's why we're working on it now. Because I think he's going to get shuffled into a remedial geometry class or some similar grand bullshit.

He wasn't given a choice last year about going into BOCES exploration program. And it wasn't a thing that his entire class had to do. They were trying to pidgeon hole him into a shop class, because it was easier for them to throw him at the BOCES environment than to take the damn time to educate him. Cuddle Bear hated BOCES because it was a chaotic learning environment and he had no interest in what they were teaching him. We're watching the school like a hawk to see if they're going to try to put him back into BOCES or if they're going to honor what he said in the IEP meeting.

Right now, I know that one son is approximately 4 grades behind in mathematics and possibly in other subjects as well. I have suspicions that the other son is in a similar boat. As I get this figured out, I'm trying to decide what action to take. I can't do the chain flail thing, they're unreliable as hell. But a proverbial baseball bat of information dropped on the desk of the department chair and a demand for an explanation may start moving things in the right direction.

I'm sick of people telling me what a good mom I am. I'm a fucking educator by way of my education. I get that everyone has a different learning style and I adapt my teaching styles to be responsive to them. This is not a mere 'mom' thing. I'm dragging out material from college to teach them informally about the history of the country, math skills, and language arts. Language arts is challenging because they have difficulty with inferencing. I think, however, as we work in the mathematics area, they will find that they can apply some of the skills for breaking down problems into workable bits useful for interpreting inferred content.

I'm mad. I shouldn't be doing the school's job for them. I  have my good days and I can focus to get them through their work. I have my bad days where I struggle to figure out words. All of this is weaponized bullshit of the highest order. When my kids say they want to be home schooled instead of dealing with the uncertainty of what the next school year brings, I get angry. They shouldn't be anxious that they're going to get screwed academically because of their autism.