Computer Issues

I may be offline for a few days. My computer is getting fixed tomorrow. I need to wipe and reinstall, so we're upgrading to Vista. My friend says it may be done before Jack's party tomorrow evening, but it may take til Tuesday. Anyway, if you don't hear from me for a couple of days, that's why.

Packing is going.... it's slow and tedious, and I hate it, but it is coming along pretty well. I am almost done with the kitchen and living room. I am tracking down the rest of the yarn for the blanket I am making, so I can keep working on it as I get moved. There will be a merciful few days of down time between packing the truck on Sunday and moving into the new apartment on Friday. I am actually hoping that they let me unload the truck on Wednesday, so I can save a little bit of money on the UHaul and possibly get a little unpacking done. I won't have the power on til Friday, though. Then Monday, I start work and school.

Someone remind me to finish my fafsa and enrollment forms on Monday?

And now I am off to finish up the kitchen and living room, so I can have the place at least SOMEWHAT presentable for guests tomorrow. Ahh, at least they are all aware that I am in the middle of packing...

This is not goodbye.

I was at dinner with Father Jim tonight, celebrating Jack's birthday, and we started talking, as we always do. We were talking about the fact that Jack and I are moving to Georgia. He mentioned all the wonderful, positive things about the move: Jack will have his father. I will have my parents and my old and very dear friends. I have employment lined up. I am starting school. My apartment is nicer and in a nicer neighborhood (and with no pet fee for Bella --or Crookshanks, if I decide to take him as well. We shall see.) We have more support there. There are more things to do at the church there. The larger city and better resources mean that the crisis dormitory can be opened sooner. There are a lot of perks, and he thinks I am making the right choice moving.

And then I started crying. Because I don't really WANT to move. For better or worse, this place has become my home. I love it here. Don't get me wrong, I hate most everything about this place -- mosquitoes that leave scars, blistering heat, crackhead neighbors, GATORS IN THE YARD, hurricanes, unemployment, very few friends, horrible schools, BLISTERING HEAT, blistering heat (and did I mention the blistering heat?), shady doctors. . .

But it's home, and I love it here.

Father Jim has a theory, and I think he's right. I have found something here that I have been searching for my whole life. I found my faith, and I found people who share it. And this community has been there through my pregnancy and my delivery. They were there when I brought Jack to church the first time last December. They were there for my chrismation in April. They were there for his baptism in May. On Sunday, they will be there for his first birthday, and they will all celebrate it as if we were part of their family, BECAUSE WE ARE.

As my sister and I pointed out in her blog the other day, I am a little odd. I have always been odd. I have always been on the outside looking in. I have never fit anywhere. Ever. Seriously. And then I showed up at the door of this small church for Pascha two years ago, two months pregnant and alone, and they welcomed me with open arms. And they never stopped.

When I told them I was pregnant and SINGLE, I really expected harsh judgment. But I got love and acceptance. I expected to be back on the outside, but they supported me, and they loved me, and then they loved my son. There have been times when I felt like I didn't fit in, but someone always unwittingly puts an end to those thoughts pretty quickly.

I love these people.

And then there's Jared. We met indirectly through a mutual friend (who was hundreds of miles away at the time!). His best friend was engaged to an old friend of mine. And when we realized this, we started talking. And then we started spending more and more time together -- so much so that he actually ended up losing a girlfriend over it! He got me through my pregnancy, and I helped get him through a rough patch in his life. Several months after my son was born, we started dating. We've talked about a future - marriage, children, and all that fun stuff. Georgia, though, is not in our future together.

I will miss Jared and Father Jim, and I will miss the connection I feel to the people at my church. And I will miss Miss Irene.

Miss Irene is this adorably sweet woman at church. She shares my last name, which was how we first bonded -- actually, her daughter and I have the SAME FULL NAME. Spelled the same way! Miss Irene is like everyone's grandmother, and she has seemed to be particularly fond of Jack. She is a wonderful woman. Just being around her makes me smile. I can't put my finger on just what it is about her that makes me love her like I do. I just do.

And as I got all teary, and after Father Jim blamed the food for it (ha!), he told me about this great little tradition that evidently exists in the Church - We don't say goodbye. Because this isn't goodbye.

And I think about all the near-goodbyes that I am dealing with right now, and knowing that I don't have to say them makes life a little easier.

Sure, I have been thinking about moving back for a while now, but the thing that made me act was the death of a very dear friend - a woman who was kind of like another mom to me, and very much like another grandmother to Jack. She leaves behind an autistic son, and there is nobody to care for him during the days while his father is at work. So I am moving back to do just that. I know she would have done the same for me.

It's just so hard to leave this place and all these crazy people. It's hard to pack my life into boxes and head back to the city I was raised in. It's strange to know that in two weeks I will be moving into a new and much better place and be so sad about it. I KNOW that this is the right choice for us. But why does doing the right thing have to feel like this? I know I am going back to my family, but I feel like I am leaving my family at the same time.

Plus, it will be really hard to break in a new Priest.

Bella....

Well, I started writing this post last night, when I hadn't seen my cat in over 24 hours and was starting to get nervous. But I went outside this morning to hang the diapers to dry, and there was Miss Bella, staring at me, spazzing out, and begging for her breakfast.

She got cuddled til she couldn't stand it anymore.

Poor girl came home just in time to get fixed!

Fun With Drugs

My own personal gift on the first birthday of my son: My mastitis is back again with a vengeance. I managed to catch my doctor about ten minutes before his office closed, and he called me in some antibiotics and pain medication, and I get to go see him in person tomorrow. So I am back to hot lavender compresses, antibiotics and diflucan, and more useless hydrocodone.

I really, really don't need this right now.

Happy Jack Day!!!

Happy Birthday, my sweet little boy. Part of me can't believe it's been a WHOLE YEAR since he was born. My tiny little man is getting so big, He walks and talks (a little). He loves to wave bye bye and pet the kitty cat. He likes to play with his toys, read his books, watch Veggie Tales, and take naps. He loves chicken nuggets and fish sticks, and APPLE ANYTHING. And a year ago, he was so tiny.

The rest of me can't believe it's only been a year. I feel like I've known him forever. And now I know - I have loved him forever, and it only gets better as time goes by.

Happy birthday to my little bear. Mommy loves you.

I am changing my name to Suzie

In a sudden burst of sleepless energy and miraculous mobility, I have made my humble kitchen all shiny and sparkly. Next stop: My living room, which will be much less work. Cleaning today, getting things ready for Jack's party on Sunday. My moving boxes should be here tomorrow, and then I am in for a fun day of packing and decluttering. THIS MOVE WILL BE ORGANIZED, OR MY NAME ISN'T SUZIE HOMEMAKER. With any luck, and tons of work, all that will be required when I move in is the unpacking of nicely organized boxes. Wish me luck. Pray for me if you pray. If you don't, please come help me pack!!

In other news, I have been testing out some recipes for Jack's birthday party. So far, things are going well. Since most of the guests are adults, I am doing a "grown up kid food" dinner for us. I made a garlic alfredo macaroni and cheese topped with asiago and mozzarella cheeses. That turned out REALLY well, and the recipe is entirely mine.

For dessert, I am making strawberry and mango muffincakes -- muffins that are sort of cakey, but lighter and healthier than cupcakes. I'll top them with blue whipped cream.

Now I am just trying to find a fun vegetable to go with everything.

Love Will Come To You

Guess I wasn't the best one to ask
Me, myself, with my face pressed up against love's glass
To see the shiny toy I'd been hoping for
The one I never can afford
The wide world spins and spits turmoil
And the nations toil for peace
The paws of fear upon your chest
Only love can soothe that beast
And my words are paper tigers
No match for the predator of pain inside her
I say love will come to you
Hoping just because I spoke the words that they're true
As if I've offered up a crystal ball to look through
Where there's now one, there will be two

I was born under the sign of Cancer
Like brushing cloth, I smooth the wrinkles for an answer
And I'm always my eyes and wishing I'm fine
Even though I'm not this time
But I say love will come to you
Hoping just because I spoke the words that they're true
As if I've offered up a crystal ball to look through
Where there's now one, there will be two

Dodging your memories, a field of knives
Always on the outside looking in on others' lives
I say love will come to you
Hoping just because I spoke the words that they're true
As if I've offered up a crystal ball to look through
Where there's now one, there will be two

And I wish her insight to battle love's blindness
Strength from the milk of human kindness
A safe place for all the pieces that scattered
Learn to pretend there's more than love that matters


-Emily Saliers/Indigo Girls

Health, Weight, and Fun With Blogging

In another blog forum, I am participating in a great challenge. It is a holiday fitness challenge in a blog community for people with a hundred pounds to lose. That's right, I have to lose a hundred pounds. A hundred and twelve, actually.

I have always been chubby, but I was doing really well a couple of years ago. Daily time in the gym plus a good diet, and I got down to a size 8-10. I didn't check the weight, because I was more focused on training to be an archery coach (and a good archer), but I had made some amazing progress.

The same day that I got into my size eight jeans, I went to the gynecologist for my sonohysterogram. Immediately after the doctor, I went back to the store to exchange my size 8 jeans for maternity pants. Long story short, my body is not happy with pregnancy hormones OR BEDREST, and no matter what I ate, I couldn't seem to keep my weight in check. I gained and gained. I don't even think I WANT to know exactly how much I weighed the day after I delivered Jack, but I know that, once the swelling went down, I wore a size TWENTY FOUR -- by far the LARGEST I have ever been in my life.

Hello, obesity. Technically, morbid obesity, with all of the chilling problems that it opens me up to. So I joined this community, and I have not been an active participant. So when I saw the holiday challenge, I jumped on it, and got in on the action. It's a biggest loser style team challenge , and I am on the green team.

Our first challenge is to come post our measurements or before picture or measurements. And since my digital camera is not working with my computer for some reason, I get to have fun with a tape measure tomorrow (UGH!). Our second challenge is to come up with three goals, and explain how we plan to achieve them.

Here's my three.
1 - Start getting some sort of daily exercise.

Now, here's where I could use some help. Let me explain:
I am disabled. When I was nine weeks pregnant, I had a small fall. The baby and I were fine, but I separated my pelvis. Throughout the pregnancy, with those wonderful hormones loosening joints in preparation for birth, the pelvis got worse. And now? It seems to be permanently damaged.

My hip hurts constantly, and I have a very hard time walking. Some days are better than others. Some days, I can almost forget that I am disabled. And then, there are the days when I can't put any weight on my leg at all. I walk with acane, and I have a prescription for a wheelchair (that I never bothered to pick up).

So, here's the advice I am looking for. There are some days when I can do some low-impact cardio stuff (I use prenatal videos, since those are designed to be a little easier on those lovely joints). There are days when I can do light yoga. I may never be able to do my beloved pilates again, since it is considered to be a VERY BAD THING to do pilates with pubis symphysis injuries. But WHAT can I do on the days when I can't use the leg? Any suggestions?

2. Stick to my diet program.
A good friend of mine is sort of a diet specialist, and is studying food science at the University of Tennessee. He set me up an awesome and very effective diet. It lets me lose weight while lowering my risk for some of the ickies that obese people are proneto WHILE GIVING ME EVERYTHING I NEED TO CONTINUE NURSING MY SON!

Great diet, this. Low-fat, lower-calorie, low carb, low sodium, low cholesterol, high fiber, high antioxidant, and high protein.

When I move back to Georgia, it should actually be easier to maintain this diet plan, since I will need less help with the rent and utilities, and will be able to get more help with groceries if I can't afford them all myself. I just need some good recipes that don't include any meat that isn't fish.

....I will miss my fisherman. *sigh*

3. SLEEP LIKE A PERSON, DAMN IT!
No, really. When the monster goes to bed, I stay up til all hours cleaning, cooking the next day's meals, and doing all sorts of other strange things. If I can't SLEEP, I should at least do something RELAXING, like reading a book or knitting or something.

Really, I just need to learn to manage my time better during the days and early evenings. This is going to be even more important when I get to Georgia, since I will be WORKING full time.




Our third challenge is to say something great about our appearance. What do we love about our looks?You know, I am still often complimented about the features I evidently got from my birthfather.

Why, yes, he IS very Irish, how did you guess? I have curly auburn hair and green eyes. I also have good skin (thanks, Seamus).

OLD NEWS. Seriously. OLD NEWS.

My thing? Let me just say that, as fat as I have gotten, I don't have fat-chick legs, and I still have a great butt. Okay. I said it. I have these awesome muscular legs and a butt that could crack walnuts. They're a little....fluffier than they used to be, but there is still a LOT of muscle there, and I have no cellulite. GO ME.

---------------

And if you're wondering, I am doing this for my son. I want to raise a healthy child who values things like a healthy meal and some good physical activity. I can't very well teach those if I don't live them, can I?

Time Flies

This time last year, I was IN LABOR.

Wow.

The further joys of parenting a teething toddler.

Bedtimes have been going so smoothly lately. Really, he does great, and has for a couple of months, minus the trip to Georgia last month, but that's hardly his fault. I don't sleep well in unfamiliar places either!

But tonight.....

He went down at 8:15. THANK YOU DAYLIGHT SAVINGS!!!

But he woke up at 10:00, was inconsolable until midnight, when he decided that it was most definitely NOT sleep time.

So we stayed up. I finally convinced him to go back to sleep at almost THREE AM.

I still have diapers to finish.

I may never sleep again.

Endless Possibilities, and Dreams That Come True

You know you've gone and gotten boring when you are THRILLED BEYOND BELIEF at mundane things.

Seriously, though, since my piano was sold, my two biggest pleasures outside of Jack are books and crafting. And the two, well, they don't seem to mesh well, do they?

Then I got an mp3 player, FINALLY, and along with thirteen Billy Joel CDs and a near complete Indigo Girls discography, I have downloaded AUDIO BOOKS. Yes, now I can LISTEN to a good book while I knit a blanket and drink a cup of tea.

This is the life.







Now all I need is a manservant to come and clean for me and pack all of my belongings. If you see one, please send him my way.

Coffee and Fish Sticks??

There is something just.....special about mornings with a teething toddler. He wants his mommy; he wants his "nummies;" he wants his pumpkin doll and his blocks. But the oddest of all, he wants his fish sticks while I drink my mid-morning cup of coffee.

I'm good with that. They're ready to go, just pop them in the nuker for thirty seconds, and they're ready for him to eat. So he can eat his fish sticks while I drink my coffee, and all is well.

And then he decides it's time to play his fun new game: FEED THE MOMMY. That's right. After a nice long sip of vanilla caramel flavored coffee, there is polluck in my face. Yum.

I think I am going to bake muffins tonight so he can have a MUFFIN for breakfast tomorrow. Having a half-chewed muffin shoved into my mouth sounds somewhat more appealing with coffee than a gnawed fish stick.

....kids........

What I want to be when I grow up

A couple of years ago, on a trip to Georgia to visit my family and buy a car, I met my first real, live mother in crisis. She was seventeen and afraid she might be pregnant. We hit it off, and started talking a lot. I took her to the local crisis pregnancy center for a test, and eight short months later, my beautiful god-daughter was born.

And that, I suppose, is when I knew how much I love pregnant women. How much the scared ones need to be empowered to finish school and have fulfilling lives, whether they decide to parent their children or not.

I wondered what I could do to help, and thought briefly of volunteering with the pregnancy center, but then I came home and got on with my life. I spent hat summer having a couple of surgical procedures and a bit of a rainstorm (Katrina, anyone?). After the hurricane, my dad offered to come to Mississippi and pick me up so I didn't have to stay in the shelter. I refused every time he asked. Why? Staying here, I was able to actively help families that were impacted by the storm. There, all I would be able to do was watch the news and cry.

No, I didn't go out and rescue anyone or build anything. But I felt that what little I did was equally useful. I worked with the mothers and their young children. I babysat, I changed diapers, I gave bottles, I took the kids outside to play, and I gave the moms a chance to deal with their problems. And when I could, I gave the moms a shoulder to cry on too. I wondered if I could do more, but I ended up going to Georgia to have my "big" surgery.

A few months after the surgery, I found myself in a crisis pregnancy situation. And it's one I hadn't even thought of before, but now I realize that it happens every day, and to way too many women.

I was 25 years old, and pregnant with a child that I wanted more than I could ever say. I knew I wanted children. I've always wanted children. BUT NOT NOW! I was, and am still, uneducated and unmarried. The timing was horrible. The relationship was horrible. I was terrified.

I didn't know how I was even going to tell anyone. I will never forget what James said to me when I first told him. "Okay, did you still want to go for a walk?" I was shocked. I really actually expected him to be upset. But he handled it surprisingly well -- for a little bit. Then he asked me what I wanted to do.

What did he MEAN? Abortion was never an option for me. Not now. This was my child, and I loved him already. And adoption? No....

Please don't misunderstand me. I am a big fan of adoption. Really. A huge one. I am adopted myself, and I really do believe that adoption is the right answer for many women in crisis. It can be a wonderful thing. And if I were 15 or 16, it would have been the right thing for me. But I wasn't. I was 25, working, and still with the same man after five years. We could do this, couldn't we? THIS WAS MY CHILD, AND I LOVED HIM ALREADY!

And then he started. He offered to pay for an abortion. He told me that I wouldn't like being a single mother. He kept pushing and didn't want to talk about any other alternatives. And me? I wasn't willing to talk about THAT issue. I was so scared, and I felt so alone.

That was about when I called The Nurturing Network (and their signature green font that drives me crazy...) for some support.

And I still had to figure out how to tell my family.

But let's not get to that yet. You see, I had JUST had that surgery, and I was NOT supposed to get pregnant for AT LEAST a year (preferably 18 months or longer) because of the enormous risk of uterine rupture, miscarriage, and other very bad things. And I was afraid of what my parents would say when I told them, so I just put it off until we were out of the biggest danger zone: The Miscarriage Zone.

I went for the anatomy scan on a Monday in July. It's a BOY. A BOY! My SON! He waved at me and played for me. My God, he was so perfect! I loved him so much. I took the pictures to WalMart and had copies made for James. You see, I wanted him to understand part of what I was feeling at least. So I found him a picture frame and a gift bag, and I put everything together for him.

He was working late all week, and I was exhausted from overnight babysitting, so I didn't get to give him his present. But we had plans for Saturday, and since I was not going to have to babysit ALL night that night, I was looking forward to it.

And then I came home.
And I couldn't get in.
Because there was another woman there.

And the next day, I went into labor for the first time. That was hell. Seriously. The on-call obstetrician was convinced that this was IT. He was so convinced that, even before he gave me the shot to mature Jack's lungs and the shot to hopefully stop the labor, he had called Life Flight to take me to Emory University Hospital in Atlanta, for their NICU, because nobody on the Coast has the technology to handle a micropreemie.

That night was awful. I was alone, in the hospital, in preterm labor. Nobody was with me. James wouldn't come, and nobody else even knew.

Long story short, we got the labor stopped and I was put on bedrest. Not such a huge lifestyle change, since my pelvis separated at nine weeks, and I could barely walk by this point anyway.

But bedrest isn't exactly easy when there's nobody there to help you. James was always off with this new girl (who did not know I was pregnant, by the way), and I had to shop, cook, and clean for myself.

I finally told my parents some time in August. And their reaction? Not good at all. Neither one would accept that I had already made up my mind to raise him. My father talked to me at length about why I shouldn't. I know he was trying to help, but that really hurt. My mother? She told me I had "no right to do that to an innocent child."

I felt even more alone.

James didn't tell his family until the day before our son was born.

So I spent my pregnancy alone and afraid. Everyone came around when he was born. James decided to get involved when I was in labor at term (okay, postdates!), and my parents love Jack now, though I am sure they still think I made the wrong choice for him. The thing is, I DON'T.

This year has been incredibly difficult, but it has been incredibly amazing. I start school in three weeks, and I am majoring in human services management. I will have my associate's degree in about 15 months, and then I am going to get my bachelor's in social work. Eventually, I will get a master's, too.

What do I want to be when I grow up? Well, I want to change the world. No, really. I don't expect to change the whole world, but it would be nice. I want to open a home for women who are where I have been. I want to provide them with a safe and loving environment -- somewhere where they can have their babies, continue their educations, and get useful life and parenting skills. I want to give women what nobody gave me - the ability to enjoy pregnancy, birth, and the first year or so of their children's lives.

THAT'S what I want to be when I grow up. That, and the best mother I can be.

Countdown to Jack's Birthday: THREE DAYS!

Wow. Three days. I have no idea what we are going to do for his birthday. I just know that the party is going to be on Sunday afternoon at my house. Probably around 6:30 or so, to give Jack and Father Jim both time to take their PLNs (Post-Liturgical Nap, a brilliant thing), me time to get things ready, and Kelli and Jared time to get here (though if I have it my way, Jared will already BE HERE, since I am supposed to have him reserved every weekend until I move).

I also have no idea what I am giving him for his birthday. I was going to be clever and giftwrap two medium Huggabuns, but I have a feeling we will need them before Sunday, since the diapers take forever to dry and most of them are soaking now (to be washed). One thing I will say about moving to GA is that it will be REALLY NICE to have a washing machine again, even if I have to rent-to-own!!

Renting to own? What?? Okay, under most circumstances, I DO NOT believe in doing the rent-to-own furniture thing. It ends up costing more, and you shouldn't buy what you can't afford, right? Right. Totally. Except that I absolutely cannot be without a washer and dryer anymore. It won't be convenient to take stuff to the parents' house, since I will be away from Jack enough for work anyway. Plus, I do have to do a load of diapers pretty much daily, and I don't want to have to stay out to do them. I could take them to work, but their washer and dryer are like the ones James and I had -- very few settings. I end up having to wash diapers three or four times, and I can't dry my Huggabuns and Fuzzi Bunz on the high setting (all they have) without messing them up. And I need a set anyway. It's a lot easier to come up with $40 a month than to come up with the cost of a set all at once. So, I am going to very seriously look into it.

And now we have more fears about moving. I have not been away from Jack for more than a few hours every few days IN HIS LIFE. I've tried to go back to work, but I haven't been able. There's this little problem of having to get somebody to watch him for me to go on job interviews, which I can never seem to work out. Then there's the daycare issue. That s__t's EXPENSIVE. But things will work out better in GA. While I am working, James and his godmother are going to watch Jack. James will watch him when he is not at work (and he has no job yet....), and Sharron will watch him the rest of the time. Not having to pay for daycare, AND being able to leave him with someone who will use our cloth diapers and respect our dietary restrictions? THIS IS A GOOD THING. Bonus points? She's Catholic, and is able to teach him about our faith as he gets older, as the Catholic and Orthodox Churches are, to quote Father Jim, "more similar than different." I just have to get her used to helping him make his cross (we go right to left instead of left to right).

But I have separation anxiety in the worst way.

I am also a little afraid of ALL THE STAIRS IN GA. Seriously, that place is like a city of hills and stairs. I have a hard enough time walking on flat surfaces!! Good news? I will at least have a parking permit there, which I don't have here. And I am just a week away from being able to file for disability. I don't think I will get approved, since most people DON'T on their first application, but at least I can TRY now, right?

Speaking of moving and mobility issues, this packing and unpacking thing scares me. Seriously, I don't have much mobility at all these days, but I have to pack my entire apartment BY MYSELF while taking care of a toddler? This is overwhelming. At least unpacking, I will have some help (TRACY, THIS MEANS YOU!!!!)

There are so many good reasons to move back to Georgia, so why do I keep harping on everything I am giving up to do it? I have no job, no money, and no real help here, and I will have all of that there. But I have to leave my priest, a couple of very good friends, and JARED. And with everything else going on in my head right now, that almost seems too much.

I should touch on "everything else in my head," huh? Next post, perhaps.

Countdown to Jack's Birthday: FOUR DAYS

Well, they say time flies when you're having fun. I guess that's what this is. Fun, games, kisses, cuddles, and a whole lot of work!

Two years ago, I could not even imagine the life I have today. I remember the day - the Monday before Thanksgiving 2005 pretty vividly. I was going in to have my uterus reconstructed for many reasons, one of which was that if I did it, I MIGHT be able to have children in some distant and unimaginable future. On the other hand, it might not work, my uterine problems might get worse, and they might have to take the whole thing out before I turned 25.


If you are here, I guess you already know that I was very definitely able to have at least one child. Of course, the discovery of that ability was rather surprising. I went to the doctor for my last battery of post-op tests. I needed a sonohysterogram to make sure everything was alright after the reconstruction and hemorrhaging that followed it. When I went in for that test, they did a blood test for pregnancy just in case. I did not have the shg, but instead got set up for the first ultrasound of my pregnancy.

And now? Well, he's going to be ONE on THURSDAY! I can't believe how time has just flown by. My tiny little baby is.... NOT! He walks and talks and wreaks all SORTS of havoc all over my apartment.

And yes, it is hard at times (okay, MOST times), but we're still here, and we're still together, and that's got to count, right?