Michael works graveyard shifts right now. Doing that really takes a toll on him; even if he gets enough sleep during the day he's still tired most of the time. So he's getting good at falling asleep anywhere, during anything.
I came into the living room one day, and this movie was blaring on TV while Michael was dead asleep on the couch. Take a look at the video I took and see if you can tell why I thought this was particularly amazing for Michael.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
On Being Personal
Yesterday I went back and read my posts from late last year, including the many posts I created when I had kidney stone problems. And I can really tell that I was on painkillers with some of them! I was pretty forthcoming with some personal details, and I keep thinking about that fine line between being informative and getting too personal.
My problem is that I want to be personal, and I am constantly feeling myself pull back on the reins, pairing down my posts, or scratching them altogether. And it's probably a good decision every time. (This post, for example, is personal AND boring, and should be deleted immediately). One thing that often worries people is that strangers can read your personal feelings when you blog about them. But what also bothers me is that being personal can turn into something long and negative, which I always regret later. Life is hard, and if you let loose you can really irritate people with unimportant details or complaints. That or you depress them so much that they think your life is akin to a plague and that you are two beats away from running into traffic. Neither of which are true for me.
Today is 6 months after October 24th exactly, and it's even a Friday as well. That was a bad day for me. And the facts haven't slipped from my mind, they never do; it's my own personal elephant for every room. It's 6 months later, and the world has strangely gone back to being very much like before October 24th, while still being inalterably changed. I feel like I appear to be a normal human being with arms and legs and a head, but I'm not, I'm an alien with an extra invisible limb that only I can see.
Now doesn't that sound like the life-plague thing? It's not a plague. Everybody has little griefs they carry around with them, making up the fabric of who they are. But I want desperately to tell you all about my elephant, my invisible limb, because it's ever-present to me, but it just seems too negative, too sad, too personal.
To be honest, some of the blogs that stand out most to me are ones that do get personal. But they're very well-written and deeply honest and they touch on universal human feelings and usually have a glimmer of hope or belief that the future will be better. One comes to mind - Nie Nie. She is a popular blogger, and last August was in a plane crash. She was hospitalized for several months, and was only able to start blogging again - slowly - in January. Her posts now have a lot to do with her recovery, her efforts to stay positive, and she describes it all in this intensely personal way. I'm fascinated.
Here are a couple of lines from her that stand out to me.
Her blog has been so much about the pain she is in, the difficulty of getting better, her inability to do things like hold her youngest child. But it is also about the glimmers of happiness she has, the small victories, the meaningful people in her life, and the small progress day by day. It makes me want to see beauty in every part of life, even the tragic. And that's what's so intimidating about being personal, because if you can do it in a way that edifies even when things are dismal, then it seems worth the exposure and the insecurity. Not that I'm trying to be a martyr for readers' sake. I guess I just think that there's a right way and a wrong way to be personal, and I feel like it's impossible for me to know the difference when I write. So a lot is left in silence that wants very much to be said.
My problem is that I want to be personal, and I am constantly feeling myself pull back on the reins, pairing down my posts, or scratching them altogether. And it's probably a good decision every time. (This post, for example, is personal AND boring, and should be deleted immediately). One thing that often worries people is that strangers can read your personal feelings when you blog about them. But what also bothers me is that being personal can turn into something long and negative, which I always regret later. Life is hard, and if you let loose you can really irritate people with unimportant details or complaints. That or you depress them so much that they think your life is akin to a plague and that you are two beats away from running into traffic. Neither of which are true for me.
Today is 6 months after October 24th exactly, and it's even a Friday as well. That was a bad day for me. And the facts haven't slipped from my mind, they never do; it's my own personal elephant for every room. It's 6 months later, and the world has strangely gone back to being very much like before October 24th, while still being inalterably changed. I feel like I appear to be a normal human being with arms and legs and a head, but I'm not, I'm an alien with an extra invisible limb that only I can see.
Now doesn't that sound like the life-plague thing? It's not a plague. Everybody has little griefs they carry around with them, making up the fabric of who they are. But I want desperately to tell you all about my elephant, my invisible limb, because it's ever-present to me, but it just seems too negative, too sad, too personal.
To be honest, some of the blogs that stand out most to me are ones that do get personal. But they're very well-written and deeply honest and they touch on universal human feelings and usually have a glimmer of hope or belief that the future will be better. One comes to mind - Nie Nie. She is a popular blogger, and last August was in a plane crash. She was hospitalized for several months, and was only able to start blogging again - slowly - in January. Her posts now have a lot to do with her recovery, her efforts to stay positive, and she describes it all in this intensely personal way. I'm fascinated.
Here are a couple of lines from her that stand out to me.
First from March 4th:
Seconds after the plane crashed I found myself lying under a beautiful large tree. It’s leaves fluttered in the wind. Lying with burns over my entire body I longed to be a leaf up there twirling in the wind instead of in pain and on the ground. When residents of St. Johns AZ came to my rescue, I asked them to help me up- it was dinnertime and I needed to go home and feed my family.
Next from Feb 7th:
Mr. Nielson tucked me safe and sound into bed that night. Mindy was singing softly in the background. My eyes welled up as he pulled me close to him.
"This is only temporary...you are a beautiful work in progress" Then he lay next to me and when he thought I was asleep, he patted me and said
"girl, I love you"
Then got up to put away the dinner dishes.
Her blog has been so much about the pain she is in, the difficulty of getting better, her inability to do things like hold her youngest child. But it is also about the glimmers of happiness she has, the small victories, the meaningful people in her life, and the small progress day by day. It makes me want to see beauty in every part of life, even the tragic. And that's what's so intimidating about being personal, because if you can do it in a way that edifies even when things are dismal, then it seems worth the exposure and the insecurity. Not that I'm trying to be a martyr for readers' sake. I guess I just think that there's a right way and a wrong way to be personal, and I feel like it's impossible for me to know the difference when I write. So a lot is left in silence that wants very much to be said.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Hippocratic Oddities
I went to the doctor this morning to get tested for strep throat.
I have to paint a quick picture for you about General Practitioners (GP) I've seen lately. In January, I made an appointment to see a GP. After getting to his office, I was informed that "He's not taking any new patients," but that he'd see me just for that day. I did see him, and he didn't look at me, didn't let me speak without interrupting me, and was generally terse. He came off as angry and unsympathetic, even with tears streaming down my face (kidney stone tears, fyi).
I saw a new GP two weeks ago, and he was brief and efficient, and had that doctorly patina of professionalism. I was a bit more prepared for it this time, but the guy didn't really express any sympathy or exude any concern. That's fine.
I saw someone new on Sunday (my clinic was closed). The meeting was very rushed because they were busy. Same kind of doctor, quick and professional. At one point I had some tears leak out, and he stopped and looked at me and said, "Are you all right?" with the same amount of emotion that one would use to say, "Would you like fries with that?" It was fine. We talked about what I should do and I left.
But I was confused when I left his office. He told me my infection is viral ( = do not take antibiotics), but he prescribed antibiotics for me. He said to fill the prescription if I didn't get better in a few days. But I really don't want to take antibiotics if I don't need to. So I decided to get my throat swabbed today to see if I have strep throat.
I didn't have an appointment so I had to see a new GP with instacare.
I told him what was going on, and another darn tear leaked out. So he hugged me. The guy hugged me. A big hug. He said, "I'm old enough to be your dad so I can do that." And he patted my knee and kept calling me 'sweetie.' And he'd give me little frownie faces when I told him my symptoms. And he told me I did a good job when he put the tounge depressor in my mouth and said 'ah.' And basically cooed over me like I was 4 years old the whole time. I was so surprised, I walked out of that office like the people at the end of Close Encounters, stumbling out of the mothership.
It was odd, of course, to be treated like I was much younger. But I'd rather have oddness that exudes concern and sympathy than grim professionalism. But I bet there are people out there that would rather have the quick, professional, let's-get-this-over-with experience. I understand, but I really wish this guy had been around during my kidney stone fiasco.
I have to paint a quick picture for you about General Practitioners (GP) I've seen lately. In January, I made an appointment to see a GP. After getting to his office, I was informed that "He's not taking any new patients," but that he'd see me just for that day. I did see him, and he didn't look at me, didn't let me speak without interrupting me, and was generally terse. He came off as angry and unsympathetic, even with tears streaming down my face (kidney stone tears, fyi).
I saw a new GP two weeks ago, and he was brief and efficient, and had that doctorly patina of professionalism. I was a bit more prepared for it this time, but the guy didn't really express any sympathy or exude any concern. That's fine.
I saw someone new on Sunday (my clinic was closed). The meeting was very rushed because they were busy. Same kind of doctor, quick and professional. At one point I had some tears leak out, and he stopped and looked at me and said, "Are you all right?" with the same amount of emotion that one would use to say, "Would you like fries with that?" It was fine. We talked about what I should do and I left.
But I was confused when I left his office. He told me my infection is viral ( = do not take antibiotics), but he prescribed antibiotics for me. He said to fill the prescription if I didn't get better in a few days. But I really don't want to take antibiotics if I don't need to. So I decided to get my throat swabbed today to see if I have strep throat.
I didn't have an appointment so I had to see a new GP with instacare.
I told him what was going on, and another darn tear leaked out. So he hugged me. The guy hugged me. A big hug. He said, "I'm old enough to be your dad so I can do that." And he patted my knee and kept calling me 'sweetie.' And he'd give me little frownie faces when I told him my symptoms. And he told me I did a good job when he put the tounge depressor in my mouth and said 'ah.' And basically cooed over me like I was 4 years old the whole time. I was so surprised, I walked out of that office like the people at the end of Close Encounters, stumbling out of the mothership.
It was odd, of course, to be treated like I was much younger. But I'd rather have oddness that exudes concern and sympathy than grim professionalism. But I bet there are people out there that would rather have the quick, professional, let's-get-this-over-with experience. I understand, but I really wish this guy had been around during my kidney stone fiasco.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Positivity
I'm adding a new post because that complainy-post below has to move down. Too negative!
So much better! This is my lovely friend Amy, and her cute little girl Jill. I saw her on my way down to California last week. Jill was a hoot, sitting next to me and giving me goofy smiles every time I looked at her. Charming AND cute, plus the red hair. I don't know how I survived. Definitely a qualifier for the face-melter category (see my Easter post for explanation).
Everybody needs one of these in their life (either a lovely friend or a goofy redhead, you get to pick).
So much better! This is my lovely friend Amy, and her cute little girl Jill. I saw her on my way down to California last week. Jill was a hoot, sitting next to me and giving me goofy smiles every time I looked at her. Charming AND cute, plus the red hair. I don't know how I survived. Definitely a qualifier for the face-melter category (see my Easter post for explanation).
Everybody needs one of these in their life (either a lovely friend or a goofy redhead, you get to pick).
Monday, April 13, 2009
Personal Note
I really shouldn't have gone to see all the Easter cuteness (see post below), because I'm still sick as a dog. These illnesses are getting ridiculous. I think my body is purposely sabotaging me. When I left their house last night, my brother-in-law saw me to the door and called out, "Get well soon! [pause] And forever!"
Yes, please! My sickness is to the point where Michael can't understand me when I speak, and I can't sleep more than 2 hours at a time... how am I supposed to get better? The throat pain is the worst of it, but I can't take pain killers for it because two weeks ago I had to see a doctor for what I thought was a long stomach flu... He determined that I had so many painkillers over the last few months (can you say 7 hospital visits + 1 oral surgery), that it had messed up my intestines. Maybe we can hook me up to an IV and send stuff right to my blood stream? Man, I really sound like a drug addict, don't I? Truth is, I gag every time I swallow a pill. Especially big ones. (That never happened to me before late December... 3 weeks into my first kidney stone problem. Since then gagging is the norm). I hate putting chemicals into my system, I hate to think what they are doing to me. I want to flush them all out of me so there's nothing that would interfere with a pregnancy, should that happen.
I guess, simply put, I'm sick of being sick.
*Note: here's where I realize that there are people way worse off than me. Sorry.
Yes, please! My sickness is to the point where Michael can't understand me when I speak, and I can't sleep more than 2 hours at a time... how am I supposed to get better? The throat pain is the worst of it, but I can't take pain killers for it because two weeks ago I had to see a doctor for what I thought was a long stomach flu... He determined that I had so many painkillers over the last few months (can you say 7 hospital visits + 1 oral surgery), that it had messed up my intestines. Maybe we can hook me up to an IV and send stuff right to my blood stream? Man, I really sound like a drug addict, don't I? Truth is, I gag every time I swallow a pill. Especially big ones. (That never happened to me before late December... 3 weeks into my first kidney stone problem. Since then gagging is the norm). I hate putting chemicals into my system, I hate to think what they are doing to me. I want to flush them all out of me so there's nothing that would interfere with a pregnancy, should that happen.
I guess, simply put, I'm sick of being sick.
*Note: here's where I realize that there are people way worse off than me. Sorry.
Easter
I recently thought up an interesting phrase:
"It's so cute it'll melt your face right off"
Since then I've been describing extreme cuteness as "face-meltingly cute."
So watch out, cuz I have some face-melters here. Let's start with a couple of photos.
My youngest nephew on the hunt for eggs. I have a theory that the pacifier helps in a divining-rod sort of way. It must be, because he didn't take it out for the hunt. I love that his little socks are peeking out from the bottom. And you all know how I love to cut parent's bodies off.
Another nephew hard at work. I love the serious expression. This is serious business. Oh, wait, no it's not, it's an easter-egg hunt.
Post-Easter-Dinner Puppet Show!! This is where the cuteness level really ran off the charts, we couldn't even track it anymore after this. My niece wrote an entire brilliant script for this, and she and her brother performed it all. The best part was when they used a plastic golf club as a prop in the performance, and their toddler younger brother came up and pulled it out of their hands. Unperturbed, they pulled out their back-up golf club they had prepared for just such a contingency, and continued right on. Way to prepare!
Here's a couple of clips. In the first clip, one of the puppets says, "Oh my gosh! I slept in! It's 9:30!" After that you can hear me mumbling to my sister, asking if it was bad that I did that everyday. (ok, not anymore, but I used to).
So cute. Here's the one with the golf club. You can hear us all start laughing after they pull out the second club:
"It's so cute it'll melt your face right off"
Since then I've been describing extreme cuteness as "face-meltingly cute."
So watch out, cuz I have some face-melters here. Let's start with a couple of photos.
My youngest nephew on the hunt for eggs. I have a theory that the pacifier helps in a divining-rod sort of way. It must be, because he didn't take it out for the hunt. I love that his little socks are peeking out from the bottom. And you all know how I love to cut parent's bodies off.
Another nephew hard at work. I love the serious expression. This is serious business. Oh, wait, no it's not, it's an easter-egg hunt.
Post-Easter-Dinner Puppet Show!! This is where the cuteness level really ran off the charts, we couldn't even track it anymore after this. My niece wrote an entire brilliant script for this, and she and her brother performed it all. The best part was when they used a plastic golf club as a prop in the performance, and their toddler younger brother came up and pulled it out of their hands. Unperturbed, they pulled out their back-up golf club they had prepared for just such a contingency, and continued right on. Way to prepare! Here's a couple of clips. In the first clip, one of the puppets says, "Oh my gosh! I slept in! It's 9:30!" After that you can hear me mumbling to my sister, asking if it was bad that I did that everyday. (ok, not anymore, but I used to).
So cute. Here's the one with the golf club. You can hear us all start laughing after they pull out the second club:
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Interesting photo of my niece
Last week at Disneyland I rode the teacups with my nieces. I snapped a few photos like this:
But in the midst of them I got a photo that turned out like this:
How did that happen? It turned out so surreal.
I can't help being reminded of so many Madonna paintings from art history.
Of course, whenever I take pictures of Matti, they always seem to have some sort of ethereal, back-lit ambiance:
I also took this one on that trip, isn't it cute?
Cameras do funny things.
But in the midst of them I got a photo that turned out like this:
How did that happen? It turned out so surreal.
I can't help being reminded of so many Madonna paintings from art history.
Of course, whenever I take pictures of Matti, they always seem to have some sort of ethereal, back-lit ambiance:
I also took this one on that trip, isn't it cute?
Cameras do funny things.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Birthday
My birthday was last Sunday. Michael and I decided to drive to California because I had two sisters going at the same time, and my Dad lives there. We went to Disneyland on my birthday because you get in for free on your birthday in 2009. We saved $70 that way. They gave me a "Happy Birthday" button to wear, and every cast member who saw me wished me a happy birthday. It was pretty fun. My Dad made us a yummy breakfast with eggs and bacon, and in the evening we came back to a yummy birthday dinner and chocolate cake.We went back to Disneyland a couple more times with my sisters and their kids, which was a hoot. We also went to the beach and did a lot of sitting around in the hot tub and playing pool. I've decided that vacation time fits into two categories: memory-making and relaxing/rejuvenating. So we tried to get in a little of both. But yesterday I started developing a bad cold, and by the evening I had a pretty bad fever. We're back in Utah now, but I feel a little like death warmed over.
My phone doesn't work outside of Utah, so I came home to 23 voice messages, most of which were happy birthday messages. Very nice, but I'm sad I wasn't able to get them myself! Anyway, thanks everyone for your calls!
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