Okay, So We Won't Count This Year
Thanksgiving this year was. . . well, it was pretty much just a meal this year. The only difference was that we all went around the table and stated one thing we were thankful for. We moved our meal to Friday this year because my sister Bridget had to work a shift at the hospital on Thanksgiving. We had just decided this on Sunday evening, so when I got to Bridget's house on Monday to help her empty out her storage unit, I called my brother to let him know. Well, he ripped me a new one for about 20 minutes because we didn't bother to call him and ask him what HE wanted to do. Let me tell you a bit about my brother. He's 40 years old and lives on disability due to a condition he has because of some choices he made, so he doesn't work currently, and my sister administers his finances. And because of some other choices he's made over the years (usually involving a joint or some meth and a pint of Jack Daniel's), his brain is pretty much fried. Those choices led to problems with jobs and loss of his driver's license for several years. He got that back three years ago, but has no money for a car. His days are spent sitting around his apartment twiddling his thumbs because he's isolated himself from life. So when it came time for the matriarchs of the family to figure out what to do, we all just figured my brother would go with the flow as usual. Oh no....not Brian. He tore me up one side and down the other because he had plans with friends on Friday! And to top it all off, he's bi-polar (aka manic/depressive) and doesn't take his meds faithfully. At the time he was having a manic episode, and let me tell you—manic isn't always a positive thing. Then he went off on the fact that no one ever calls him, comes to see him, does anything with him, etc. I told him that I was sorry. I try to do what I can, but lately my life has been just a little crazy, and I was having a hard enough time keeping up with my husband and child. So he asked me what was going on in my life that was making me have such a hard time. Well, I'm 32 years old and just moved my family in with my parents so that we can get some debt paid off. I'm having a heck of a time getting my thyroid under control which has its own problems (see my previous post), we want to have another baby, but even the fertility medications aren't working with my body. His response? "Well, maybe you shouldn't have more kids." I was dumbstruck. There have been very few times in my life that I have been absolutely speechless. His next words were, "Be glad you don't have any real problems." That made me mad. So mad I hung up on him. He must have ranted on for the next five minutes, because about that time, he called back and said, "I was just telling you goodbye and I loved you, and the line was dead." Uh yeah, genius. I hung up on you. I told him that my problems WERE real, and they ARE very difficult to deal with. He said he didn't mean for it to come out that way he just meant that I should be glad my problems aren't worse than they are. Yeah...I'm glad, but that still doesn't make my life easy to deal with at the moment! So long story short, Brian went to his thingy with his friends and then came over and ate with us, and we're all still trying to figure out what was so difficult that he had to yell at me the way he did.
But on the good side, I was finally able to see the endocrinologist. It's no wonder I was feeling so terrible—my TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) level was at 32. Normal is between 1 and 7!!!!!!!!!!!! So he put me on a higher dose and I go back in January to see how I'm doing. Now if we can just get the fertility medications to work.
Yesterday we went to Colorado Springs to pick up Adri's 1 year pictures. Can you believe she's already a year old?!?!?!?!?!? The originals were taken in sepia (an antique brown color for those of you who don't know). I scanned the pictures in, changed them to black and white and then colorized them. I'm personally pretty proud of my work :-)
I've Been Turned into a Cow...Can I Go Home?: The Sequal
No really...this time I HAVE been turned into a cow. I stepped on the scale this morning and weighed in at a whopping 280 pounds—that makes 20 pounds gained since Adriana was born last December. I'm not proud of this by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, this is the first time I've ever admitted to anyone other than my husband and the DMV what I weigh. I didn't get this way overnight—although it was pretty stinking close. I've always struggled with my weight. In fact, one of my earliest memories is that of a girl in preschool telling me that my thighs were too big. At four years old, I had just learned what my thighs were!!! During my formative years, my Mom (who's going to kill me if she ever reads this) was going through a very difficult time personally. And as her female ancestors before her, she turned to food for comfort. It wasn't uncommon for us to sit down together and spend some nice quality Mommy/Daughter time on the couch scarfing a bad of snack sized candy bars. She insists to this day that she bought all that chocolate for my Dad, but I know the truth. From the time I was three or four years old, my Dad had half of his stomach removed and as a result couldn’t eat that kind of stuff all the time like he used to, because it would make him sick. If she wanted to go out, it was to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard. Not the six ounce ones that they call “large” today. No, back then they served a large in a 32 ounce cup. Would YOU give your 9 year old a QUART of ice cream?!?!?!?!?!? I wasn’t allowed to do this ALL the time— only when Mom was doing it. Unfortunately then I would just sneak it. Children don’t understand the concept of binge eating. They just know that for what seems like forever, it’s “all food all the time”. Then it stops—no rhyme or reason. I don’t know a child who could be exposed to that for long periods of time (thirteen years in my case) and then just be expected to stop. Most adults I know don’t have that kind of willpower. Coupled with my vice of being fiercely independent you get a child who wants to eat and will do anything necessary to get it. Knowingly or not, my mother created a monster. I’m not saying that I’m not responsible for what I do now. Regardless of WHY I make the decisions I make, I solely am responsible for my actions.
Another piece to this puzzle is my thyroid disorder and the PCOS that I currently have. Both, if left untreated, tend to add vast amounts of weight to a body. Do you know how many times in my life I’ve been told just to “diet and exercise” and that should take care of my problem? I stopped counting at age 18. It seems a logical answer to my problem. However, I did a little experiment last year. I spent four months working out 5 days a week for an hour and ten minutes. Two three of those days I spent forty-five minutes on a pretty rigorous workout on the elliptical machine and 25 minutes doing weights. Then on the other two days a week, a friend and I took our lunch hour plus a break (an hour and 15 minutes) and walked close to four miles—two miles one way and two miles back. I also made sure that my caloric intake was no more than 1800 calories per day. So here’s what the math looks like on that:
MWF
Calories: 1800
Eliptical: -810
Weights: -315
----------------
Net Calories: 675 per day.
Tues/Thursday
Calories: 1800
Walking: 610
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Net Calories: 1190
Total for 5 days: 4405
Total for 5 days w/o exercise: 9000
Do you know how much weight I lost? I think I managed to lose five pounds—not in 5 days. In FOUR MONTHS. I’ll be honest—I wasn’t always 100% faithful. There were days I went home and ate a pint of Haagan Daas for dinner or only worked out twice a week. But following a 90% 10% plan (good diet and exercise 90% eating junk and no exercise 10% of the time) you would think that I would have gotten a little more out of it than a measly 5 pound loss. Is it any wonder that I have no motivation to exercise right now? And with my thyroid so out of whack (and the PCOS in tow), I could eat just enough for my body to function and I’d still gain weight. I don’t think it’s supposed to work that way. I guess if I could SEE something happening, I’d be more motivated to keep going no matter how slow the process.
Ben called me this afternoon to tell me that our insurance was now officially switched over from Kaiser of Colorado Springs to Kaiser of Denver. Now I can make an appointment with the endocrinologist recommended to me by the doctor who diagnosed my thyroid condition 24 years ago (I don’t feel like I should be that old…). Hopefully he can help me get my thyroid under control. Once that’s done, then we can work on getting the PCOS (and subsequent insulin resistance) taken care of. I can only hope. That seems to be all I have left right now. And even that is running dry.
Family Pictures
We had family pictures taken at Sears on Saturday, and I just thought I'd post a few of my favorites.
Ben, Brandi & Adriana
Just Ben & Brandi
Adriana in her Christmas dress. We bought this dress the day we found out we were having a girl. And believe it or not, Sears didn't put this portrait together—I did! Yes, I love being a Photoshop guru *grin*
My New Medical Discovery...
I'm calling it the
Bruce Banner Syndrome. I guess I could call it
Jekyll and Hyde Syndrome, but...I dunno...Bruce Banner is more my generation than the other two. Besides, I don't know if Dr Jekyll could feel his metamorphosis coming on. I can. Ben asked me at 3 o'clock this morning if I was feeling better (I went to bed last night rather perturbed). I said, "Yeah...kinda. I feel a little like Bruce Banner—'Don't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry.'" I can honestly FEEL myself losing control. I'm sitting outside on the front porch right now for that very reason. I had to turn Adri over to Ben this morning to get her dressed for that reason. She was throwing a fit because she didn't want to get dressed. I needed her dressed in SOMETHING because we needed to get going to the store to get groceries/meals for my Aunt & Uncle who are house-bound and my Uncle starts chemotherapy this week. Mom was on a time schedule (because we had to be back by a certain time so they could eat on time) and my Dad was holding her up because he needed us to take something to the post office for him (he still can't drive), so she was getting frustrated with Dad...which made me frustrated...which Adri was feeding off of and making her more frustrated.... Most of Adri's little tantrum was just plain temper--which normally I would discipline for. But at the moment, I would have been disciplining out of anger, and I refuse to start that. That's how I was disciplined as a child, and it did nothing but instill fear in me.
I'm just so tired of not being in control of my emotions!!!! I'm trying SO hard. I'm on anti-depressants, so it could be much worse than it is. But the cause this time is my thyroid/hormones/PCOS. They're still trying to switch our Kaiser insurance from the Colorado Springs plan to the Denver plan, and I until they do that (which I'm hoping will be next week sometime) I can't make an appointment with the endocrinologist that I need to see. I'm just so tired of being broken. My reproductive system doesn't work right, my endocrine system isn't working right, my ability to process sugar isn't working right....and though my voice has been healed to a certain extent, I still have to exercise it to get it back to its original abilities. I can't even sing right!!!! For so long, my voice was my identity...it was my face to the world. In a place where my face or body wasn't attractive to anyone, my voice was. That was my beauty. I'm sure I will be able to sing as I once did...as long as I don't have the same problem with reflux that I did when I was pregnant with Adriana. But for the time being, I feel like I've been disfigured.
I know I don't have it so bad. In the grand scheme of things, this is nothing more than a trivial annoyance compared to a couple of stories I've heard over the last few days. And now I feel guilty for complaining. But at least I feel like I can go inside and be in close proximity to my family without turning green and breaking through walls.
I'm Too Young for This
Ben and Adri and Rosie and I recently moved in with my parents for a little while until we can get on our feet with this move from Colorado Springs to Denver. I love my parents, but they are old now and getting very crotchety. I realize there's a reason for it. Arthritis runs rampant through my Mom's joints, and my Dad needs to have both hips replaced, but they don't want to do it until it gets really bad because with his emphysema it's a huge risk just to put him under anesthesia. They have a reason to be cranky.
However...
The seem to have forgotten what it's like to have a small child in the house. "How much time do you spend on the computer a day?" my Dad asks... Um...how many hours of Fox News do you watch a day????? What on earth does it matter?!?!?!?!?!? Yes, there is laundry all over our floor, and I still haven't completely unpacked from our trip to England. You try chasing a very intelligent 11 month old around AND run errands for someone and see how much YOU get done in a day!!
Don't get me wrong...I LOVE my parents. They are making a huge sacrifice allowing us to stay here while we get debt paid off so that we'll be able to buy a house in the next year or so. And I know my Dad is just trying to help. But there are times where it feels he jumps in to help because I'm not doing it right...or fast enough. Good grief...where did THAT piece of baggage come from?! I guess I'll just add that to my luggage cart. I pity the next counselor I end up seeing.
Girl Interrupted
I was at my
MOPS group this past Thursday, and my care group leader gave devotions. She said that one of her frustrations of the "mini van years" that they are in right now is that she isn't always able to carve out space for her quiet time. Yeesh! Don't I know that!!!! It's always a constant source of guilt for me. But she said something that really spoke to me. She said that in the times where she doesn't seek Him out, He seeks her out. When her life gets so out of control (like it is now--her mom has a very agressive cancer) and she is doing all she can just to keep up with basic daily tasks, God gently but clearly interrupts her day and gives her what she needs to make it through. That really got to me. One of the things that I've been learning over the last few years is that my relationship with God is not a one way relationship. Just like any relationship here on earth, it's one of give and take from both parties. How many times have I spent days on end just "touching base" with Ben because our lives are so crazy busy, only to have him send me a long email telling me how much he loves me and that he understands how hard it is for me to keep up with things. Or he'll just out of the blue bring home flowers and dinner for us so that I can have a few minutes to relax. Scripture makes it clear that what we experience here on earth is just a small picture of our heavenly relationships. Obviously going without our time with God shouldn't be the norm. But how is it that we have convinced ourselves that if we go through a period where we aren't exactly dilliget about our devotions (you know...like the times when we're doing good just to get in a shower twice a week!), that our spiritual lines of communication shut down? Are we such an important part of the equation that God can't initiate a quiet time with us?
He's been doing just that for the last couple of days. While adjusting myself to not being on vacation, I'm trying to help Adriana readjust to her normal eat/nap/play schedule, help my parents around the house; run errands for my Dad since he can't drive; figure out how and when I'm going to get back to Colorado Springs to get more of our stuff packed up; trying to cope with raging hormonal imbalances and all the other wonderful side effects like fatigue and mood swings; trying to be a decent wife and mother; and on top of all that, deal with my desire to have another baby and the frustration that comes with not having any control whatsoever about making that happen because my body is not working the say it's supposed to. Right now I have no entry in my dictionary for "quiet" or "time" either one! But despite all that, God has spoken to me very specifically over the last few days. First through some promises He gave to Ben and I over two years ago about His intentions for our family, and then, of all things, through a widget on my Mac. For you non-Mac users, a widget is basically a mini program that runs on your desktop. This particular widget is a daily Bible verse that pops up on my screen. Anyway, after Ben had read back to me some of the promises, I kind of got discouraged. Remembering the frustration in trying to get pregnant for so long and the ache in my heart when month after month it never happened...I REALLY wasn't looking forward to dealing with those emotions again. Don't get me wrong—I LOVE the little miracle that I just put down for a nap. She has changed my life forever and healed my heart. But God gave me a desire for a large family (or at least larger than one child), and we are ready to get moving again. It's not discontent with what I've been given...it's frustration with the rocks I must climb to get to the goal. Then yesterday, it was like God put His arms around me and said, "no, no, sweetie...don't get discouraged.
I know the plans I have for you. They're not plans to destroy you, but plans to give you hope and a future. Trust Me." Then this morning, I was feeling better, but still telling Him that I'm not sure I can do this again. And once again, He put His arms around me and said, "it's okay.
You CAN do this, but only with My help. I know this is hard, and you don't have to be strong. Lean on Me and let Me be strong for you."
I have to say, I'm glad my relationship with God isn't solely dependant on my action alone. That's one interruption in my day that I don't mind.
Back to Reality
Okay guys who have been reading this—we're going back to girly things now. So if you don't want to hear about
MY girly things, then I suggest you go...uh....
here...yeah, that's a good place.
For those of you who knew that I was on Clomid last month, it didn't work. For those of you who didn't know, Ben and I are trying to get pregnant again, and after having to take TWO separate doses of progesterone to get me to stop bleeding, I started Clomid to help me ovulate. Well, I did end up ovulating, but not until it was too late to have an egg healthy enough to support fertilization. I was pretty discouraged when the relatives came (Aunt Flo, Uncle Red, and this time the Cramp children brought ALL their friends). I kept reminding myself that I'd rather have things go this way than to have gotten pregnant and miscarry—I just couldn't' handle that right now. Normally miscarriage wouldn't cross my mind, but because my thyroid has been so crazy, and thyroid problems can cause miscarriages. The other frustrating thing that I've been dealing with lately is that I feel like I'm in a constant state of agitation. And poor Ben...he just patiently walks beside me and lets everything roll right off his back. The two weeks I was gone kind helped me reset that problem...but alas, it seems to have only lasted about a week. Between the stress of living with family (instead of our own place), trying to move an entire household from a different city, and all the hormonal problems, I've been quite the jewel to be around. Then earlier today I looked at my two most recent thyroid results (that span the last six months), and my TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) is going DOWN when it should be going UP!!!! No wonder I feel like a crazy woman. I am!!!! And I now have a recommendation for an endocrinologist (that I got from my childhood endocrinologist), but I can't make an appointment with him until I get our insurance switched from Kaiser of Colorado Springs to Kaiser of Denver. And who knows how long that might take!! So until then, I'll be reading the PCOS diet book to see what I can do by managing my glycemic response.
Finally Home!!
Actually, we got home late Monday night. This is just the first time I've had a chance to write anything about it! The trip home was a bit crazier than the trip over, but I'll get to that a little bit later. Right now I have to finish telling you about the rest of our trip.
Just a few more pictures from our trip to Edinburgh, Scotland:
Adri and I at Edinburgh Castle
A view from over the wall of the castle
This was kinda comical—this guy was dressed up as William Wallace (Braveheart) and was standing outside the castle taking pictures with tourists for a donation to the national Leukemia fund. He kept telling everyone he wasn't Mel Gibson, but close up, he kinda looked like him!
I took a number of pictures of the Scottish countryside, but this was by far my favorite. Everywhere you looked, there were all large herds of sheep—EVERYWHERE!!!
We left Edinburgh on Wednesday and headed south to Stratford-upon-Avon, the birthplace of William Shakespeare. One thing that struck me was how long Brits tend to think driving takes. From Westcliff where Kim lives to Edinburgh is only about 7 1/2 or 8 hours away—nothing more than a day's drive for most of us. The British seem to think that's a trip better split into two days! I was talking to a lady on our way back home who was born in the UK but now lives in Montana and she said it was a shock to her the first time her husband wanted to drive 14 hours somewhere in one day!!
Stratford-upon-Avon was a fun place to visit. They have these "Hop-On Hop-Off" double decker tour busses that drive around the city and stop every 20 minutes at different attractions. You buy one ticket for 24 hours and can ride the busses to any of 12 different sites. So we got on at the beginning of the tour, rode it to Shakespeare's house, then to his granddaughter's house and the Teddy Bear Museum and then to his wife, Ann Hathaway's house. We would have gone to the church where he was buried, but armed police had the street blocked off.
The proverbial red double decker bus
Adri and Kim on the backside of Shakespeare's home/birthplace
Ann Hathaway's house
Thursday we took the train/tube and spent the day in London and tried to take in as many sites as we could.
Our tour guide, George. He was a very sweet man, but Adri did NOT like his hat!
Adri and I at the Tower of London
Adri and I with Big Ben, the Houses of parliament and the London Eye in the background. We were standing on the sidewalk in front of Westminster Abbey.
Adri and I in front of Buckingham Palace. We had a really neat experience here. While we were just standing in front of the palace taking in the scenery, out of nowhere comes this black carriage pulled by two horses and driven by two men in camel hair coats and black top hats! We have no earthly idea who it was in the carriage, but it certainly was fun to guess!
Our last sight seeing day was Friday when we took the Tube back into London to Victoria Station and took a coach tour to Leeds Castle, Dover, Canterbury and then ended the day in Greenwich with a river cruise down the Thames. This was probably one of the most relaxing trips we took—mostly because someone else was doing the driving!! There ended up only being 11 people total on this tour, so Kim and I took over the row of five seats in the back of the bus so that we would have plenty of room for Adri to stretch out and play or sleep.
We drove past the Metropolitan Tabernacle—the church started in London by Charles Haddon Spurgeon in the 1800's. This area of London was an area heavily bombed by the Germans in WWII, so the front facade and the foundation was the only part of the church that survived. Every other part of the church looks much more modern.
Leeds Castle was a castle created by one of the early Kings of England for his Queen, and there after became knows as the Queen's Castle. All of Henry VIII's wives stayed there at some point. We also learned how to remember how each marriage ended: Divorced, beheaded, died. Divorced, beheaded, survived. And trust me—the Brits still love their soap operas!
The White Cliffs of Dover. During WWII, Winston Churchill wanted to spend the remainder of the war in Dover so he could look the Germans in the eye, so to speak. Obviously he wasn't allowed to due to security, but he often went there for short periods anyway.
Kim and Adri and I at the White Cliffs overlooking the English Channel. When you're there, if you look really, REALLY closely, you can see the coast of France as a faint line across the horizon.
This is Canterbury Cathedral—an area made famous both by Chaucer's Canterbury Tales as well as by the long line of Archbishops who traditionally have crowned the monarchs of England.Among the more famous people buried at Canterbury Cathedral are:
Edward, the Black Prince of Wales (who had the not-so-honorable distinction of dying of dysentery—at least that's what our guide said. I've read other accounts that said he died of plague) and King Henry IV and his second wife, Joanna of Navarre.
Also of interest is the burial place of Stephen Langton. He is credited with adding chapter divisions to the Bible.
That's about it for all that we saw. There will eventually be descriptions on all the photos on our flickr site. The trip home was a bit more harried than the trip over. We left on an airport shuttle at 6am Monday and got to Gatwick around 9:30. After somehow managing to get our luggage AND the stroller into the airport by myself, they then proceeded to tell me that my luggage was too heavy and I would need to repack it. Ummm...hello, McFly! Do I LOOK like I have extra luggage in my back pocket?!?!?!?!? I BURST into tears—something I've found rather helpful in getting help. They brought someone over to push my luggage cart over to the baggage shop where I spent a rediculous amount of money on two little bags so as to even out the weight of my luggage. Then when I went to check in, the woman told me that I'd have to pay $125 for the one extra bag!!!!!! At this point, I really didn't care. I wanted to go home and the luggage was coming with me any way possible. When I went around to pay the fee, the woman (who had earlier seen me trying to get the stroller and the luggage cart to cooporate and go the same way) winked at me and told me that I was allowed to check a bag for the baby, and gave me my boarding pass! I wasn't very happy with security, however. I wasn't allowed any liquids whatsoever, so Adri's benedryl ended up in my checked baggage. Subsequently she was awake 7 out of 9 hours of the flight home. Praise the Lord, though, thanks to the nice lady from Montana who switched seats with us so I could have an empty seat for Adri and to the airlines for having an hours worth of Baby Einstein videos on the "On-Demand" list, she was still a wonderful little traveler. The biggest thing that made me mad was that they made me taste her food AND her formula even though it was factory sealed!!!!!! Again, all I wanted to do was get home, so I said a little prayer for God to protect the milk and did what I could to keep any contamination to a minimum.
All in all, we had a good time with Kim and enjoyed the sights and sounds of the country. But I'm VERY glad to be home....
