tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18065232052624543802024-03-12T20:29:25.490-05:00Listening Through the Air ShaftCIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.comBlogger109125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-14664229132670367332017-01-28T15:44:00.000-06:002017-01-28T15:49:38.503-06:00these children. I'm not going to sugar coat this.<div><br></div><div>I am about to explode. </div><div><br></div><div>I am about to go out for bread and change my name. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I can only imagine that if everyone had children that behaved like this humans would be extinct. </div><div><br></div><div>Also- I am so sick of people saying.. just</div><div>Take them somewhere- let them run off some energy! Like it is that easy to take 3 complete hellions ANYWHERE and by myself on top of it. </div><div><br></div><div>I didn't know motherhood would be like this. I can't say that I would sign up for it again. </div><div><br></div><div>I am in a pretty shitty place right now. </div><div><br></div>CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-79789471589065506212016-11-25T16:22:00.003-06:002016-11-25T18:25:18.319-06:004 children later. Big mail day in the hizzy.. BIG DAY.<br><br>I got my updated drivers license with our new address in the mail. I was 85lbs heaver in the photo. I am waiting for the day that someone looks at my license and says.. my goodness.. that doesn't even look like you! Then and only then will I go into the DMV for a new photo. We also got Emme's new birth certificate in the mail. THIS IS A HUGE DEAL. Traci is listed as a parent. MAJOR. MAAAAJOOOORRR. Finally, we got a letter stating our foster license is closed.<br><br>We are our own family. <br><br>JUST US.<br><br>No social workers.<br><br>No GALs.<br><br>OUR FAMILY.<br><br>It saddens me that we no longer carry a foster license. For 5 years, that has been part of our identity. Part of our intro. Now what? We are just two chics with 3 kids. End of story.<br><br>On another note, I sent out Thanksgiving cards... PRIOR to Thanksgiving. I am fucking killing it here.<div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-aBLE6zJlEuI/WDjWYlRritI/AAAAAAAAAHc/vliCqvNF9KA/I/photo_504778.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div> <br><br>HA RIGHT. I just dug gum out of Cora's mouth that she found in a wrapper in the garbage. <br><br>Also.. we are starting to live a more minimalistic life... we are going through all the kids toys and they don't have many left. I absolutely love how this has allowed them to really use their imaginations. Now I need to get over their mess.. that is far from minimalistic. </div><div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4BwhcL2pGTM/WDjWbZYYNwI/AAAAAAAAAHg/Szg010sfHFk/I/photo_547263.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>SS Minnow <br><br> <br><br><br></div>CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-80228093209532462922016-11-17T14:43:00.002-06:002016-11-25T16:23:19.557-06:00rant. woah-ez me. I have to remember, somehow, that I am not the first parent that feels the way I do. <br />
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I am not the first parent that feels like her kids are running the house, that her walls will never be clean again, that the talking back and screaming and hitting and biting and just all around REDONK is never ending.<br />
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I am not the first parent that wants her life back. I miss doing what I want when I want. I miss having friends. I miss going to bed and not struggling to sleep while being kicked by a 2 year old all night.<br />
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I am not the only one with a four year old that is as stubborn and impossible to parent.. and actually contributes to my desire to "go out to get a gallon of milk". <br />
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I am not the first parent to spin in place, thinking about the laundry, what to feed the kids, cleaning the house, paying the bills and about the jobs she has outside of the house...until you go numb and completely useless. <br />
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I am on overload.<br />
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But I am not the first parent to feel this way. I have a long line of amazing parents before I ever got this title. They were in FAR more difficult situations than I am in.<br />
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I need to summons their power. <br />
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Is there some sort of crystal or magic powder I can buy in order to do this? I will save all of my pennies for it sell all of my worldly possessions.. sell my plasma. WHATEVER IT TAKES because this mama needs to up her Prozac and have a glass of wine before I lose my goddamn mind.<br />
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PS. As I am typing this, my 2 year old asks to put big girl undies on. done. now she is hiding in her pooping place. Awesome. <br />
<br />CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-16429266969086587522016-11-08T20:56:00.000-06:002016-11-08T20:58:56.568-06:00Mom is doing well. This election, on the other hand...<br />
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Mom's surgery went well. Now we find out the kinds of improvements we will see. I am praying so hard for her.<br />
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Along with my mom, I am praying for this country as I tune in and out of election results. My blood pressure can't take it. <br />
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I need to go to bed. When I wake up, a woman better be in charge.<br />
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<br />CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-53384917649654597252016-11-06T22:04:00.000-06:002016-11-06T22:10:07.665-06:00fucking colds. My mom has NPH - in short, she has water on her brain. Two weeks ago she was supposed to have a shunt inserted. Because of some complications that didn't happen. <div><br></div><div>It was rescheduled to tomorrow. Because of my schedule I am not going to be there... so I drove down lastnight to visit. I woke up with a fever and a cold. </div><div><br></div><div>So I had to hightail it out of there. </div><div><br></div><div>I couldn't even give her a hug when I left.</div><div> </div><div><br></div><div>My heart is breaking. </div><div><br></div><div>Please lord let everything go as planned. </div>CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-47123585008294577362016-11-01T08:45:00.000-05:002016-11-01T08:45:34.464-05:00check inJesus. Time to get this rolling again. I finally feel like my life at a place where that can happen. We are all settled in Appleton. The kids are in 4K and Emme is in daycare. I absolutely love my job and I am also working a second job cleaning at the health club at night. Just 2 hours a night for three nights a week. I am by myself. It is quiet. I can think. <br><br>Traci and Sara finished our bedroom and they are putting the finishing touches on the room downstairs. I am not yet sure how the decorating will all play out. I am in no hurry. This house feels like home. We aren't going anywhere. It is AMAZING to have Greg and Maurice next door and family just a few minutes away.<br><br>The kids love it. They love playing outside. Sara brought them a big play yard and they adore it.<br><br>I am working out- and have started running. Traci is still at the moving company- but that wont be forever. Only until we get her health figured out.<br><br>SO YAY WARDS!<br><br>We so effing GOT THIS. <br><br>I even took them out trick or treating BY MYSELF yesterday...and I didn't even take my prozac. <br><br>We got through a bunch of houses before it just got too cold and Emme ended the experience by tantruming in the front yard, throwing her bucket of candy everywhere, tearing off her costume and jacket and running around screaming. It was quite a performance!<div><br></div><div><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-du6iQpIUHOs/WBicfYJPmWI/AAAAAAAAAHA/naY7_1bf1T0/I/photo_398688.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br>We had two different Doc McStuffins in the hizzy and an Iron Man! </div><div><br></div><div>I'm ready to keep this good feeling going! <br> <br><br><br></div>CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-33344611837181895432016-05-13T14:52:00.000-05:002016-05-13T14:52:13.265-05:00more waiting until we get ready to wait some more.One more thing to check off the list... a job in Appleton. I am so beyond about this. B E Y O N D. <br />
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Part time at the funeral home. The job is spectacular. The owner of the funeral home is SO STINKING NICE. I can't even explain how excited I am to become part of the team there. <br />
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I tried to tell Traci about it-- but kids stirred up the words coming from my mouth to her ears. She didn't quite get the excitement. That is okay. Then I tried calling my mom to tell her, but it sounded like she just finished the last drop of the bottle. So. Well. That didn't get the response I was hoping for. The most important thing is that I did it. I got the job. They chose ME. Also- this means that I will still be able to contribute financially to the family, become more involved with our kids day-to-day and best of all.. re-align myself, goals, priorities, etc. <br />
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Another check mark. The list of things to do is long between packing and organizing and EVERYTHING that needs to be done at the new place. <br />
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Yanno what, though? <br />
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I could care less if we were moving into circa 1963 untouched time capsule. Orange shag carpeting and wallpaper on the ceilings. It would mean that The Wards are putting their faith first and family an immediate 2nd.. and doing exactly what is best for us. <br />
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-67632159670785193452016-03-16T16:41:00.001-05:002016-03-16T16:41:29.332-05:00Did I say a 30 day notice? In my last post I ended it by saying that the Ward house thrives on change. Hell yes, we do. New twist: I have an interview for a part time job in Appleton in a few weeks. No matter what, we are putting the house up for sale and heading north. Twist(x2): I have to keep this job in order to get through the closing (once it is sold, of course) THEN I will be putting in my notice. <br />
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I get all dreamy and butterfly stomach-y just thinking about it... thinking about a day without blatant sexism, doing the work of 3 other positions on top of my own, not having to miss out on my children's day-to-day, creating a clean and inviting home for my wife and friends...the list is really endless. <br />
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I need to find out what saint you bury upside down in your yard to get your house to sell. <br />
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As for the weight loss.. I am down 70lbs. I kind of am seeing it in my face. I had some really horrid pictures taken of me in the last several days, so I am right back to baggy clothes and avoiding mirrors. <br />
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-16409697194976922672016-02-19T13:13:00.000-06:002016-02-19T13:13:51.448-06:00We have one go'roundWell. Surgery done. 3 months under my belt and 66lbs gone daddy gone. I still can't see it. It is a mind fuck if there ever was one. I did cross my legs twice, but I am afraid to try again. I also had to get new pants... as I looked redonk in my oversized circus tents. But when I look at my body in a *HORROR* full length mirror.. I see no difference. <br />
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I am absolutely not a star student. I have had slip ups and have made some really poor decisions food wise, but I can honestly say that the good food decisions far surpass the crappy ones. <br />
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I will be getting on a plane at the end of this month to go to Austin. I am so freaking out about it. Fat peoples worst nightmares always have plane seats in them. Squeezed in, touching the arm of a stranger or trying your best to smoosh up to the window. I just really want to be able to buckle the seatbelt. Here is to hoping! Then there is the thing about giving up alcohol for a year. I am not quite sure how I am going to survive 5 days with the owners of the company and the general manager. I'm bringing my yoga dvd's - and hoping for the best. Though, really- I am 100% sure that yoga is not going to taste better than a So.Co Old Fashioned Sweet. <br />
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Tim, my older brother, is going to have a heart bypass this coming week. I am not in a place I can really write about it. I am bitter and frustrated and scared to death. I learned about that right before Traci landed in the hospital with Pancreatitis. I can't write about that, either.. I am so scared to lose them both. <br />
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Meanwhile. I am giving my 30 day notice in 30 days. It is time. I had an epiphany that I actually want to try raising my kids that we fought so hard to adopt. Cora, on a regular basis, is using the phrase "Bye Felicia". The things that come out of Dario's mouth are simply shocking. We are having date night tomorrow night to figure it all out. <br />
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There are a lot of changes happening in the Ward house. There always is, though. We thrive on change, I think. <br />
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-87364169083406321862015-10-14T17:43:00.000-05:002015-10-14T17:43:46.131-05:00Save the DateI finally got the call about my surgery date. <br />
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November 5th. <br />
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They will be calling me the night before with the time I need to be at the hospital. Odds are I will be getting ZERO sleep that night. <br />
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I finally "came out" of the Weight Loss Surgery (WLS) closet at work. I was not telling anyone at work because I felt like it was none of their business. Though, when I really sat down and thought about it- it wasn't because it wasn't any of their damn business (which- really- well- it isn't) but I feel so ashamed about my weight. It has been something I just avoid talking about. I avoid THINKING about. I avoid LOOKING at. Then I thought- oh for fuck's sake... this is a GOOD thing. I am taking control of my health for ME. I do nothing for myself. This is going to be my big <em>thing</em>. <br />
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They took it well. I actually made up a big story about how I was having a sex change operation and that I would like to be called Derek after I came back to work. They just kind of looked at me for a moment and then the owner of the company says "oh fuck you- you are not". Laughing ensued. They know I would never want to be a dude. I don't know anything about dudes. <br />
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Between now and the big day I will be busy with typical toddler ridiculousness which includes trying to potty train two three year olds at once (yay me), more doctors appointments and major house cleaning as I am sure there will be people coming over to corral the kids for us so Traci can take care of me. <br />
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I am so ready for this. SO STINKING READY. At night I have been having dreams of being able to cross my legs, running a 5K and wearing yoga pants while actually doing yoga. Mind boggling. <br />
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So, let the count down begin.. 21 more days. <br />
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I'm trying not to have a poogency every time I think about it.<br />
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Peace out.<br />
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-61839588391818281012015-09-07T16:28:00.000-05:002015-09-07T16:28:03.495-05:00TransitionsI have one friend who had gastric bypass. She and her husband are now getting a divorce. <br />
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There are those that say that rate of divorce increases dramatically after WLS. I honestly think those relationships had many issues prior to the surgery. I cannot imagine not having my wife by my side through all of this. I want to look good for HER too. <br />
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This week has been a challenge. I have overeaten quite a bit. Each time I have something I go through this process that is kind of... saying goodbye. Breaking up with food is going to be tough. It is always there for me. A friend, comfort, a get away. <br />
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This surgery I am having is going to be a TOOL. A tool that I can't simply just use when I want. It is a forever change. FORRREEVVEERRR. It isn't a guarantee. It isn't going to be an easy fix. <br />
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Even with all that in mind- I am ready. READY! <br />
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I have my last nutritionist appointment on Wednesday. Hopefully then we go forward with submitting to insurance! CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-32702310219040741472015-08-13T16:31:00.002-05:002015-08-13T16:31:12.441-05:00It is going to take more than just the surgery. I am quickly realizing that I have real issues with food. I mean. Yeah. DUH I HAVE ISSUES WITH FOOD. I wouldn't have gotten this massive if I didn't. <br />
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I'm talking about when I am with my children and they are driving me looney bins and I reach into their stash of candy for m&m's just to help me cool off. The other night, Traci and I were sitting on the couch chit chatting and I ate almost .. okay.. pretty much ALL of a bag of cheese puffs. I didn't even realize it until it was a done deal. <br />
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People don't do what I do and stay thin-ish. I don't want to fail. I want this to be the end all be all-- for my kids to never remember their big fat mom. I don't want to screw up and look back on a failed situation. <br />
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It.just.can't.happen. <br />
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-48831965085141999622015-07-18T13:19:00.000-05:002015-07-18T13:19:37.005-05:00Word is spreading<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have joined a bunch of Weight Loss Surgery groups on Facebook. To see everyone's transformations are so encouraging. </div>
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I have decided on my "pre" photo.</div>
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It is going to be me puffing up as much as possible. Looking the fattest I can possibly look. Something like this:</div>
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<img alt="Image result for jabba the hutt" class="rg_i" data-src="https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQaSVo84jwb1Ami9s1X-rcecuKSKp_wT_vMfO9BIPHHeUzHy0sQhA" data-sz="f" jsaction="load:str.tbn" name="bSw66HXjuYOapM:" src="https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQaSVo84jwb1Ami9s1X-rcecuKSKp_wT_vMfO9BIPHHeUzHy0sQhA" style="height: 187px; margin-left: -5px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; width: 270px;" /></div>
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Wearing a tube top and spandex. Looking horrific. Side ponytail- maybe a fanny pack. Knee high sports socks. </div>
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My thinking is that every picture I have after that is going to look FAR better than that one. Everyone is going to be like.. "HOLY CRAP! WHAT AN AMAZING TRANSFORMATION!"</div>
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And little by little the tube top will get too big, the tube socks will start slouching, the fanny pack would need to be slung over my shoulder. </div>
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It's going to be epic. </div>
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I have a couple of more appointments this coming week. Dietician and Psych evaluation. ONE psych evaluation. I am thinking.. it took 40 years of issues with food. I am going to need some psych help after the surgery too. </div>
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More things of things I look forward to: </div>
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Kayaking</div>
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Putting on tights like a human </div>
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There will be more things.. I am 100% sure of it. </div>
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-63481909555374443912015-07-06T21:55:00.001-05:002015-07-06T21:55:20.212-05:00Time for a change.. a big fat change. I have always wanted to run. I see people running, and I want to do it. I see people biking and I want to do it. <br />
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I am now at a time in my life where I realize I just can't do these things anymore. I WANT to be active, but I am too big to be active. I want to lose weight, but in order to do that, I have to be active. It is a mad cycle. There must be something that can help. <br />
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There has, for many years, been the idea of having weight loss surgery. I personally never knew anyone that had it, and kind of thought it was for quitters.<br />
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Then my friend had Gastric Bypass.<br />
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And she is as far from being a quitter. <br />
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She needed HELP. She needed a jump start. It wasn't <em>EASY</em> out. Far from it. What it did do was allow her to BE more active and to have the confidence she needed. To be healthier and to live longer to see her beautiful children grow up. <br />
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We recently had a change in insurance at work. I quickly realized that THIS was my chance. I never had insurance in previous jobs that allowed this surgery. The day after I got my insurance card in the mail, I was on the horn. It was covered. <br />
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I have now had my initial class and surgeon consultation. This week I will check in with the dietitian and another check in at the end of the month. My psychiatrist appointment is also at the end of the month. I believe within 3 months I will have all my needed appointments under my belt. <br />
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This is scary and exciting. There are so many rules to follow. I need to always remember WHY I am doing this:<br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I WANT TO BE THE BEST I CAN BE. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">WIFE</span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">MOM</span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">FRIEND</span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">SISTER </span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">DAUGHTER</span></div>
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Of course I know that while weight is not what makes ME, me.. I also know that weight is a huge part of my self image... my... what is the right word... my self WORTH. I miss the old me. The more confident me. I want her back. I believe this will help. </div>
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Things I look forward to after the surgery: </div>
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Crossing my legs</div>
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Playing with my kids without almost immediate fatigue</div>
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Wearing cute clothes that are drapes</div>
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Riding my bike</div>
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Going places wondering if I am going to be the biggest person there</div>
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Getting rid of at least 3 of my chins</div>
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Learning how to eat correctly and teach it to my family</div>
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So- onward with a new adventure. </div>
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I have such excitement to see where this adventure will take me and my family. </div>
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-14269122668029814792015-06-19T16:33:00.000-05:002015-06-19T16:33:44.703-05:00Grown up kid pukeToday was the first day that we had a child old enough to puke real, big kid, food half digested puke. <br />
<br />
I had just dropped of Eme at her daycare and was on the way to drop off Dario and Cora at their daycare. I was at the stoplight thinking about what I was going to have to deal with at work. New trainees, a pile of "to do", putting the kabash on office drama and having a Come to Jesus talk with one of my CSR's. <br />
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Then I heard this gushing noise from the backseat. I turned my head to find vomit shooting out of my sweet Cora's face. <br />
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I didn't scream. <br />
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Immediately rolled down my window, pulled into a parking lot and freaked out via text to Traci. I didn't want Cora to hear me freaking out about the pile of chunks all over her lap and the chair. <br />
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OKAY HONEY!! YOU ARE OKAY!!! *in an overly happy tone that did not correlate at all with the event* *rolling down the rest of the windows* RELAX, DONT TOUCH IT, MAMA IS GONNA MAKE IT BETTER. <br />
<br />
I started to cold sweat. <br />
<br />
It didn't get on Dario. <br />
<br />
He was going to school. <br />
<br />
I was traumatized and I needed a hose. <br />
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They is just going to have to understand that wherever we go they are going to have to travel with buckets on their laps. <br />
<br />
blech.<br />
CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-26122109840370499172015-06-18T21:52:00.001-05:002015-06-18T21:52:42.208-05:00All the thingsBig things happen after two people get hitched.. legally. <br />
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We are on the job hunt, painting walls and going to move up 'nort. It was solidified after I watched my wife chopping wood with her newly purchased AXE for her fire pit. We live in the middle of a city. <br />
<br />
She was in 7th heaven. I thought to myself... there is no going back now. <br />
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<br />
Update: Toddlers still suck. <br />
<br />
Then 32 seconds later they are hilarious<br />
<br />
We are at an age where there is more suckage then hilarity. <br />
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I am typing with one eye open. So tired. <br />
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-65562078166604548082015-01-30T09:29:00.000-06:002015-01-30T09:29:23.037-06:00Day jobStarting off the day with one of my employees staring at me blankly while I tell her -- either get it together, or you wont have a job here any longer. <br />
<br />
She has an opportunity here. I can't make her realize that. If she doesn't see it, that is her fault. <br />
<br />
I need to figure out how to motivate my team. Maybe there are some online trainings I can take. I would think that a huge amount of bonuses would be motivation enough. <br />
<br />
Instead, I have to hold hands. <br />
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On an up note, today is the one year anniversary of Dario's adoption day. Traci and I are going to take him out to dinner tonight- and try to find something fun to do. I think that he will just be thrilled to be spending time with his two moms. <br />
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-84928558181612443172015-01-22T20:51:00.001-06:002015-01-22T20:52:47.932-06:00And then the phone rang.Cora's birth mom is about to have her baby. <div><br></div><div>A boy. </div><div><br></div><div>They asked if we could take placement. </div><div><br></div><div>It is very difficult to discribe the feelings that race through your body when you get a placement call. </div><div><br></div><div>It is even harder to discribe what it feels like when you have to say No.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-64995789186206837272015-01-20T20:43:00.001-06:002015-01-20T20:43:40.718-06:00I had a breakdown today. Only two hours into the day. <br />
<br />
I hit my limit. I wasn't prepared. I should have had activities ready. <br />
<br />
Every. Tuesday. <br />
<br />
I should know better. <br />
<br />
Cora was running around like a nut. Dario was pushing Cora. She was kicking back. It was chaos all around. They had diarrhea. I had probably already changed 8 diapers. Baby still had to be brought into daycare. I was nervous about running into the daycare manager as I am still waiting for her foster care assistance to go through to cover daycare (it is almost 30 days past due). There were a million things running through my brain. On top of it I am sick and the house was in shambles. Dario was loud. Cora was loud. The kind of loud that doesn't stop. Dario could sing the abc's 234234 times a day. Then he moves on to Twinkle Twinkle. It.Doesn't.Stop. He is in constant motion. Constant talking. During that time- Cora is crying. For what? Your guess is as good as mine. <br />
<br />
And I lost it. <br />
<br />
I started shaking. <br />
<br />
Bawling. <br />
<br />
That cry that you do when you lose a loved one. Or lose your mind. <br />
<br />
I screamed at the kids to go sit on the couch. They must have been able to tell by the look on my face, because for the first time in 2 hours, they listened. <br />
<br />
I had to get it all off of my chest. I had to SCREAM it off of my chest. <br />
<br />
I closed myself in my room. <br />
<br />
The kids stayed on the couch. <br />
<br />
I got it all out. All of it. All of the swear words and feelings and crap that I just needed to scream about. It was out there.<br />
<br />
And the weight was lifted off of my shoulders. <br />
<br />
I broke down into an exhausted puddle. <br />
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Parenting is hard. Parenting two 2 year olds is harder. Parenting two 2 year olds who didn't grow in my body, and were given drugs instead of prenatal vitamins and didn't have the proper care in utero is EVEN HARDER. It is like twins. But not twins. More like quadruplets that are moving at a rate of 281mph and banging on a drum set while running in all different directions. <br />
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I have to dig down deep to find my faith. Remind myself to have patience and in time- this all will be better. IT WILL GET BETTER. This MUST get better. God is here. He shows himself through them right when I need Him to. If it is in Cora looking at me with the most innocent look and her chubby cheeks and big brown eyes. Or if it is through Dario when he brings up awesome memories or cuddles in close when we read a book together. <br />
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I am not perfect. They are not perfect. <br />
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That is why we will be okay. Granted, in their teen years I may need to take out a second mortgage for therapy--- but we will get through it. <br />
CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-78195439700748952262015-01-04T13:29:00.001-06:002015-01-04T14:34:33.817-06:00Finally. A cold that is kicking my ass.I knew that it would happen this winter and that I wasn't in the clear because it just turned January and we really should be over with winter come March. <div><br></div><div>This cold may be the end of me. Thankfully Traci takes awesome care of me and let's me sleep extra. </div><div><br></div><div>Today has been a good day with The Toddlers. I got up with them at 6am and let T-Ma sleep in. We played with stuffed animals, had a dance party and had some breakfast. I am taking their cues today- I noticed when they started walking around just kind of looking for trouble...you could see the glimmer of naughtiness in Dario's eyes... So I got on the floor with them and played with some toys..it was fun! Cora is super good at pretending - it was pretty cool to see her wheels spinning. </div><div><br></div><div>They were super excited to watch T-Ma change their rooms around. </div><div><br></div><div>Now.. They are napping *knock on wood*. </div><div><br></div><div>So far so good- I am going to take some cough medicine and join them in lala land.</div><div><br></div><div>Edit: well that ended quickly. I stopped typing, Traci motioned me into Coras room- where she was standing with poop in her hand. I gave her a cold shower, cleaned it up and cried in the bathroom. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-48236887578100593142015-01-03T12:44:00.001-06:002015-01-03T12:44:12.349-06:00I just got a text.Cora smeared poop on her wall. <br />
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Traci may be in the middle of a nervous breakdown. <br />
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Does Military School for toddlers exist? <br />
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-40313917324784367312015-01-02T15:48:00.000-06:002015-01-02T16:17:26.203-06:00Being a Mom to toddlersIs quite possibly the hardest thing I have ever ever ever done. <br />
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No. For sure. <br />
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For SURE it is the hardest thing I have ever done. <br />
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Here is the thing in foster land, though.... my friends are moms of two TIMES as many toddlers as I have. So, when I go to them with issues or frustrations, I know that behind their smiles and warm advice they are looking at me like.. GUURRRRLLLL you got it EASY. <br />
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Traci and I are going through this mad cycle of different disciplining techniques. Yesterday we were doing the 1-2-3 Magic thing.. which was fine. The amount of yelling went down tremendously - until Cora hauled off an slapped me across the face. I kind of lost my 1-2-3 Cool. The worst part is that I know it is me. I know that it is my own issues that get my kids riled up and me going outside to cool off. Whoever forgot to pass along the Parenting How -To book really sucks. A lot. <br />
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But! Today is a new day. The morning went pretty darn well up until I realized Dario hid his shoes... and that Baby E can crawl between rooms... and that Cora.. well.. she was just Cora. She hid in a corner and refused to go until I gave her some of a poptart. I gave in. Secretly I wanted to hide in the corner with her and hope that no one would even notice. <br />
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But- we got it... They got to daycare. I got to work. Life went on.<br />
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In my gut I think that 2015 is going to have some major changes coming. The beginning of a new year means endless possibilities! <br />
<br />
Happy 2015 ! <br />
<br />
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<br />CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-73719347658372783092014-11-09T21:01:00.002-06:002014-11-09T21:01:35.563-06:00*DING DING* I'm out.The toddlers have won again today.<br />
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-3822286634848787542014-11-03T15:15:00.002-06:002014-11-03T20:45:36.375-06:00Man Blogger is LOCKED DOWN.I just spent 20 minutes trying to get back into this blog. I think I could have robbed a bank a little easier. <br>
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But I am here. That is what matters. <br>
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I need to blog again. I need an outlet. Even if it is once a week, I am happy to be back. <br>
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So much has happened since the last time we were all together *wink*. As I quickly mentioned before, we have added another baby. She is the last, you hear me.. THE LAST. Traci and I have gone completely off of the deep end. She tried to be a stay at home mom for about 5 months. She lasted 4 months and 3 weeks longer than I could have. She and I are now working for the same company. I love it. Unfortunately, we are in different offices. I wish I could work along side of her every day. What I am even more excited about? That she is out of the house and speaking with adults other than myself on a regular basis. Some are built for being SAHM's. Some can even do home schooling and all that crazy ass "fun" stuff. Us? We love daycare and we love going to work. Does that make us bad parents? NO. Do we have the guilt that others feel when they hear from their SAHM friends... like.. oh.. <em>we should really doo thaaattt</em>! Nope. We don't feel that, either. <br>
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That doesn't mean I wish I didn't have to work AS MUCH. I still have dreams of winning the lottery so I could tell my boss SEEE YAAA! <br>
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So, back to Sweet Pea. We like to call her Our Little Prozac. She is always smiling and giggling and she loves Mr. Handsome and Bean SO SO MUCH. She lights up when they walk into the room. Mr. Handsome could keep her happy for 20 minutes at a time. Which equates to about 4 hours in toddler time. She was only supposed to stay with us for 6 weeks. We were okay with that. Then we were told she needed an adoptive home. So, here we are, now completely head over heals in love with her, hoping she will be with us forever. <br>
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We just had our first official Halloween as a family of 4. It was a lot of fun. One *ahem* came down with the stomach flu. I am home from work. Traci is on the couch home from work. I just got a call that Mr. Handsome has had two blow outs and I need to come pick him up. <br>
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Don't judge me. My plan was to Lysol the damn house.<br>
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806523205262454380.post-21178957420990135272014-07-01T15:28:00.000-05:002014-07-01T15:28:13.464-05:00Our Bean will share our last name as of August 25th. <br />
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Court was quick. Really really quick. They announced that possible father wasn't the father. Mom's rights already were terminated a month ago and then- they set a date. <br />
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While the caseworker and I were in the lobby waiting for our hearing to be announced, she turned to me and said do you think (Bean) will ever go looking for her father? <br />
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*blank stare*<br />
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I simply said. If she does- she does. <br />
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Little does that caseworker know that is something that foster and adoptive parents obsess about even before they meet their littles. <br />
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I can't think about that now, though... we have a party to plan :) <br />
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CIWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18254810544622185101noreply@blogger.com2