Sticking it to the scale.....

That darn contraption that sits on the floor of my bathroom has struck again!  This time, it was not me, but DD.  My heart breaks for her and I happen to blame myself.

The reason I blame myself is a simple one....  I have not been setting a better example for her in respects to my own health.  Not all of it is my fault.  I cannot control the hormonal shift and the weight gain that comes with it.  I cannot blame myself for the stress that I am going through that creates that belly expanding cortisol that plagues me.  Sure, I happen to have some control over what should be stressing me in order to control the chemical gain that is happening under my skin, but the constant battle is very tiring and very trying.  I really do not have a support system in place to help with the burden because DH has his own concerns that even he refuses to share with me and with my Ms. Fix-it mentality, it would only add more to my already overflowing plate of concerns.  My job is tough enough with the need to at least earn a paycheck.  Being on commission is hard and I have learned to roll with the punches as best as I can, but I know it will never be enough.  I am only human, you know.

With the expectation of what is considered beautiful to look at as well as the expectations of what a healthy weight is supposed to be, there is a lot of pressure for people to conform to these expectations.  Especially, in the eyes of a teenager.  A person of my (cough, cough) age, does start to not really care anymore about their weight.  Especially, when the cards are stacked so well against them.  I'll admit it... I like food.  What is unsettling is the need to have more variety in food because DH and his perpetual food jag of sorts that limits us to the category of foods on the food pyramid that is under, "consume sparingly".  Of course, I happen to have a sweet tooth and a serious love affair with carbs.  Knowing this and doing something about it is just as appealing as getting a root canal without anesthetic.

So here I am again.... preparing to take the hard road to attempt to at least hover near the expectations of a goal weight that I have had in mind for years.  The last time I managed to achieve my goal weight after a little fluctuation in my 20's almost killed me.  I became sickly and sick all the time because I went from one extreme to the next.  From eating what I wanted to not eating at all.  Looking back, I did have the serious threat of having an eating disorder.  In fact, I still do to this day.  It is those times that I just don't pay attention that I seem to feel my healthiest and rarely ever get sick.  It is almost like I have been destined to always carry a little extra on me.  Case in point.... My first round with Weight Watchers resulted in a 45 pound loss of weight, but at the expense of getting two root canals, multiple rounds of bronchitis, and the removal of my gall bladder.  What was sad is that I still had more weight to lose back then.  All it took was for a plateau of epic proportions to not let me lose another pound, yet that plateau also did not allow me to even gain a pound, either.  That was pretty cool being able to go rogue on that lifestyle plan and not see a change on the scale.  Sadly, I quit Weight Watchers and continued on my rogue path, not watching that gradual weight gain happen until I gained almost half what I lost back.  When I returned to Weight Watchers, thinking I could finally lose weight again, I ended up with a body that just flat out refused to drop the weight like it used to the first time around.  Feeling defeated and not wealthy enough to keep paying to go to meetings, I quit again, but with the determination that if I followed the plan on my own, I could at least win at losing on my own terms.  Needless to say.... I really hate that scale in my bathroom and have not stepped on it in years.  I can see my failures in the mirror every morning.  I don't need a scale on my floor to tell me that this madness needs to stop.  Knowing that I will have to flip my thinking from food lover to food hater is what should tell you that I tend to go a little extreme.  Especially, when I put a time limit to where I should be in an unrealistic light.  Major recipe for disaster is all I can say about that.

With that in mind, I watched DD break down in tears last night.  She was with her boyfriend and he took a picture of her.  Upon showing the picture, he told her she looked so cute and all she managed to see was that she gained a little weight.  It got the waterworks flowing.  Thinking DD's boyfriend did something wrong, I immediately starting asking questions to what happened.  DD shut me down, as usual, but her boyfriend managed to calm her with a hug and some supporting words I could not hear from across the room.  It was after her boyfriend left to go home, is when she came to me with her concerns.  I immediately went on the defensive and asked if her boyfriend said anything to have her think she was fat.  She said, "no".  In fact, he said he would support her in helping her achieve what she wants to achieve in any way that he can.  Even with going with her to exercise after school in the school gym.  I think that his gesture to support her in the process that she wants to take is probably the sweetest thing I have seen from him besides him having my back when she gets defiant regarding her inhaler.  That kid sometimes does not want to miss the fun by taking a moment to use her inhaler when she is wheezing.

It is actually humbling as well as comforting that these two kids are open to talking to me about things.  I seem to know her boyfriend pretty well and I know that he would never say DD looks fat in anything.  He always points out how beautiful she is and makes it his life's mission to make her smile.  I believe with him in her corner, cheering her on, she can do great things.  Luckily, she is stubborn like her father and determined to boot, and will get that weight off in no time.  I'll admit it... I did see a little bloat going on around her middle, but not enough to freak out like she was freaking out.

I did see, my youth replaying right in front of me.  That insecurity and that desire to be thin and pretty like the models in magazines.  That placing your self-worth in the hands of the number on the scale or the size of my clothes.  That being attractive was solely based upon a number and not who I am as a person.  Yep, been there.... done that multiple times and I still feel that way about myself.  I just don't know how to create a confident child if I lack the same confidence, but I am going to give it my best shot.  I am joining DD in sticking it to the scale.  We are going to revamp the system we have been working with.  There will be a day solely focused upon planning everything to the last detail when it comes to food.  Food scales and measuring devices are going to be in the spotlight, as well as choices not becoming options anymore.  The Weight Watchers Food Nazi needs to come out of retirement in a serious way and I think I can make it stick because I am doing this with and for someone I love unconditionally.  I just hope that my cheerleader abilities can handle giving myself a little pep talk while I cheer DD on to success.  I am currently not my biggest fan and there is an age gap between DD and I.  She has youth on her side.  I have menopause to deal with.  My expectations need to be more realistic that I have a far harder path to take, with a far more stubbornly slow metabolism.  I just need to keep my eyes on the prize for her and hopefully, I can also be a winner at losing... weight, that is.  I have to remind DD that this journey is going to be a hard one when her favorite foods are going to be cut back.... way back.  That love of carbs and sweets are going to be severely reduced.

My journey is going to be a little different than DD's, though.  I am going to still refuse to have a relationship with that bathroom scale.  I am going to step on once a month instead of once a week in order to gauge my progress and even with that.... I cannot put full stock in that number.  I am placing more of my faith in how my clothes will be fitting.  I will one day be back in those jeans that I had when I lost that weight from the first time I was on Weight Watchers.  In fact, my ultimate wish is to make those jeans from my thinner time feel a little loose when I am done.  While those jeans have a size number on them, I am not focusing an numbers for this journey.  I am focusing on feel and I no longer want to feel ashamed in my clothes, and what I mean by ashamed is by wearing smocks to work all the time that cover me to my knees, or over-sized shirts with yoga pants as my clothing choice to go out in public.  I want to hold my head up high and feel good about myself.  I want DD to become a confident person in her own skin, but I also want her to not place her worth on external appearances.  I want her to have a healthy relationship with her body and by showing her a reasonable lifestyle of choices, I think I can help her break the desire to be so focused on numbers and placing her self worth with those numbers.  Someone needs to break that chain and I believe I can help.  I need to get my head in the game and stay in the game this time around.  Wish us luck!  It will be a tough one.  Maybe DH will ease up with his limited food choices and join us.  One could only hope, right?  I just hope I can make this work with food choice roadblocks all over the place.

Thanks for reading!  Have a great day!  

I am not my biggest fan.....

You know... getting older is really for the birds!  Oh, I feel pity for those birds that I apparently used that point of reference.  Let's just say that I am not all that thrilled with this natural aging process.  Here is why....

As I have probably mentioned in a previous blog entry, I feel that this topic is really stealing the spotlight in my life, but the hormonal shift (aka Menopause) is really kicking my arse.  I swear, my clients look forward to my assessment of what hitting middle age is like for me.  Besides DH being in the doghouse regarding his lackadaisical ways about fixing our crumbling house, I just seem to have this continual loop of knowing that I love this man, but I just don't like him all that much.  Now add on the moody side of menopause and I actually fear for his safety.  My latest "vindictive daydream" consisted of a brick of fireworks lit beneath DH's reclining throne to where he resides when he manages to be home with him in it in order to get him to wake up and fix the darn leaky roof and remove the water damage that is in my kitchen and seems to be migrating into my downstairs bathroom shower.  Both these places share a common side of the house and just might be rotting away as I type this.  He has tied my hands and refuses to let me seek out estimates for the damage.  His thought process is that if it is out of sight, it is out of mind.  He avoids any long visits to the kitchen because my audible sighs of disgust are not appealing to his precious ears.  Only I get to endure watching my cabinets fall apart with no plans to get the problem truly fixed.  Water damage behind the shower tiles could be because it gets wet in the shower, but it just seems to coincidental that it is happening directly in line with the damage to the kitchen one floor above.  But still, he just refuses to notice it, thus refuses to look for estimates.  Maybe I should go with plan "B" in the hormonal vindictive daydream.... Have his parents over for dinner and let them see the damage and get on his case to get it fixed since whenever I mention it to him.... he shuts me down.

Of course, I have experienced a new phase of menopause.... the moody side.  At the beginning of this stage in life, I was only experiencing hot flashes and an occasional night sweat.  Things seemed to settle down, but after a while, I started to feel like I was being attacked my smart mosquitoes.  What I mean by smart mosquitoes is that they only managed to bite me in places that I cannot reach to scratch.  Trust me, the intensity of the itch is based solely upon the inability of reaching to scratch.  Can't reach it?  It seems to itch more. 'Nuff said.  But alas, when the moody "B" with a side of "itchy" came to play, I am seriously thinking I am going to lose my collective s#it.  If I am not itching, I am sweating, and when I am slapped with both.... I am one mean mother....

Just a couple of weeks ago, I was not feeling like my normal, jovial self.  I left work and headed home.  When I walked in the door, I find a sink full of dishes, DD playing computer games, and no sight of DH anywhere.  With dinner needing to be made, I mumbled and grumbled while I washed the dishes and began to prepare dinner.  DD walks in to the kitchen, drops off more dirty dishes and is about to walk back out.  I asked her where her father is and she informs me that he has not been home since he left this morning to go see his parents.  Well, needless to say, that feeling I thought was "off" became a rage fest in my head.  I was absolutely livid that DH was not home.  I was beside myself that I spent the day working to come home to wash dirty dishes and start dinner without a moment to actually sit down and relax.  I was disappointed in DD for not taking care of the dishes in my absence, but not all that thrilled when she felt compelled to add more to wash when I started filling the sink with soapy water without even making an attempt to be helpful after the fact.  I was feeling unappreciated and with my crumbling kitchen, I felt another hot flash come.  Then my skin felt itchy and I had this really strong feeling I wanted to hit DH with a frying pan when he would stroll into the house.  Once DH did come home, dinner was done and I was an emotional basket case.  I was mad that he was gone, but I was also mad that he came home.  Not understanding why I would feel that way, I started crying and knew that if I did not leave the room I was going to go completely bats#it crazy on the next person that would even look at me.  I ran down stairs and curled up on the couch and tried to deal with this sudden urge to yell at my family.  Sadly, I couldn't find a cure for my mood swing and could not find a happy place for another 2 days.  I grumbled and swore a blue streak (quietly) while rolling my eyes for two whole days at my family.  Let's just say, I did not even want to be around myself and that is saying a lot.  Once those two days were over, I knew that I was given the experience of menopausal mood swings.  I thought that with this knowledge, I would be able to manage these mood swings better in the future, but it seems that I just can't get them under control.  All my go-to distractions and diversions from less than positive thought are not working.  I am not enjoying reading books and I am not all that motivated to do any bead work.  I have had dozens of these hate everything and everyone phases and I am so not looking forward to how long this phase is going to last.  I have managed to mask most of the mood swings when I am outside of my house, but I fear that people are starting to catch on that I am a woman on the edge.  I might be sporting a sign across my chest telling people to duck and cover in my very near future.

Of course, my few night sweats experiences are changing to just miserable hot flashes that wake me up from a dead sleep believing my house is on fire.  I am not sure, but I can only hope that my 3-4 hours of uninterrupted sleep a night is acceptable to keep me sane.  I don't think I have slept a solid 8 hours in a couple years now.  It is kind of like having a baby again with those late night feedings and changings, but without food and without a baby to tend to.  Changing was mandatory those times I had a case of the night sweats.  Now, I splash cold water on my face and go back to sleep.

One thought has come to mind.... I am not exactly fitting in my clothes like I used to.  I did see the doctor and handed her my food journal and her answer is that regardless of what I eat, I am probably going to gain some weight.  My stress levels are bordering off the charts and that creates cortisol and that just builds a bigger stomach.  Menopause is just the cherry on that craptastic sundae with it becoming more difficult to actually lose weight, but easier to gain weight.  I guess I can thank goodness for yoga pants now.  The days of wearing jeans are a thing of the past.  Bummer!  I liked my jeans. I stopped going to my WeightWatchers meetings because those food Nazis were really wearing on my nerves, but at least I am still trying to adhere to the plan and that should count for something, right? I am still active, but I refuse to remain on a figurative hamster wheel every time I smell food.  I am just so darn tired!

I do find it absolutely hilarious that with this unappealing weight gain, mood swings, and whatnot... I am having the most erotic dreams of my life.  Go figure!  That is, when I am asleep long enough to actually have a dream.  Last night's dream was a doozy and I am keeping that one to myself.  Sorry.  *laughing hysterically*

Well, time to stop here.  Thanks for reading.  I hope I shared something funny or relate-able.  Have a good one, folks!

At a crossroads.....

There comes a time in everyone's life when we have to make a tough decision based upon what we see are as facts, and more times than not, our decision becomes questioned at a later date.  Especially when you fear that history is repeating itself.  Almost like you will remain in a perpetual loop of facing this crossroads again and again until Karma, fate, or the boss up above, decide for you if you made the right choice.  Not exactly like having multiple do-overs, but hammering in a life lesson we seem to not be paying attention to.  I sometimes refer this to the let out leash being let out to yank me back when I try to venture beyond my allowed limits.  No matter how fast I run, no matter how hard I claw at the ground to claim just a little more ground or distance.... I get yanked back by my choices that managed to limit me without even realizing it.  Here is what I mean.....

With every change in job choices, I do my best to really think about where this job will take me and where I want to be in a few years.  Sure, the usual question by someone in the H.R. Department that does the initial interview of, "Where do you see yourself in 5 years". seems the most accurate description of my thought process every time I think about work.  Not really complaining about the effort that is necessary to get to where I need to be because I have a strong work ethic, but getting that assurance I am at least getting one step closer every day to my intended goal is important to me.  Knowing that my time is limited in my marriage is the driving force that pushes me even harder.  You see, DH made an announcement a couple of years ago that he wanted a divorce.  Of course, it was under the influence, but what he had said must hold a grain of truth.  Especially, when he tells me that he wanted to wait until DD was 18 to do so, tells me that this has been in the works for years.  Not denying that I have been thinking the same when I watch my married friends' marriage progress over the years and mine just can't seem to move from the starting block.  DH likes his friends more than me sometimes.  I know it is a bitter pill to take, but that is the conclusion I was given by his actions.  No matter how hard I have tried to change that, even I know that I can't change the situation.  I mean, sure, he loves me, but if he had a choice.... he would choose his friends over choosing me.  I grew up and mellowed out far faster than he ever imagined.  Especially, after DD was born.  My friends can attest that I just cannot go out whenever and even now... I rarely ever see my friends.  Sure, I would love to see them, but someone must be the responsible adult here and I take that seriously.  Regardless of the fact that DD is now a teenager, I have remained focused on what is important and the most important thing is family.  In roughly 18 hours after his announcement of his desire to part ways, he changed it to wanting to make this marriage work, thus we are still here and still together.  Of course, I left the effort firmly in his court since I told him I was damn tired of putting in all the effort and it was his turn to try.  To this day, we get along just fine, but I am not seeing all that much effort in growing our relationship.  I am still left with tending to more responsibilities and he still prefers to be king of the remote, sitting in his reclining throne every weekend.  It is what it is.....

Now, back to this crossroads....  My last job lasted seven years, and not all of them were happy ones.  I am not sure if my competence threatens my employer, or fellow coworkers, but I have been held back from my potential.  Sure, in my line of work, I am working with other goal minded women seeking to be successful in our commission based job that works with people in the image and beauty industry.  Simply put, we only get paid for what we accomplish and repeat business is necessary.  What we put in should be what we get out of the job and only we can make a living or break it through our own efforts or non-efforts.  There is a very fine line between love of the job and love of money.  I happen to believe in the statement that, "if you do what you love... you will never work a day in your life."  I do love what I do, and I do love to earn money, but I will never compromise my talents and reputation on someone that decides on a whim to do something that is potentially damaging to their hair.  I feel that education is important, and educating the client is just as important.  In the end, it is up to the client to make the decision, but I want to make sure that they are making an educated one.  In my last job, I was told I talk too much, I was passed up on opportunities for growth, and I felt that more times than not.... I was left in the shadows.  Of course, when they were in a bind.... I was the first one they called for me to do the work that nobody else wanted to deal with.  Opportunities outside of the workplace were being taken away because it all came down to money.  Heck, my last day of work, I watched the alienation that I have suffered through for seven years progress even more.  I was being told, without words, that I was just not meant to ever fit in, and that hurt so much.  Of course, I refused to let the depressive feelings stop me from picking myself up and trudging onward with my goal held snugly to my chest.

When I started working at another place, I knew that being "the new girl" was going to be hard.  I have done it before and the only way that I handle that is to keep to my head down and do my best.  I of course, would take in my new surroundings and see the dynamic of the workplace and its workers.  In every business, there are alliances and cliques.  Who are the movers and shakers and who are the ones to look out for that love drama.  Of course, both categories are very similar.  I look for opportunities to build my brand (that is just another word for business), and I seem to look for learning experiences in how these people have managed to build client relations as strong as they have.  You see, I ended up losing almost all my clients from the last place I worked.  It is a common practice to not inform clients where their hairdresser went to if the hairdresser did not contact them and the last place I worked, did not allow me to keep my own client records.  I was under the watchful eye of my boss back then and if I even tried to make a client card, it was taken away.  I didn't have a chance.  Fortunately, I had some client cards of clients that followed me from the last place I worked and they have remained true.  Well, after roughly six months at my new place, I saw who was the drama maker, the mover and shaker, and the trouble maker.  I also saw who was unmotivated and who gave up on trying anymore.  I watched my boss give opportunity and take it away and that was when I saw the crossroads coming towards me.

Over the past week, I thought I had a plan of what I wanted to do.  The opportunities that were presented to me were good, but not great.  My client base was growing and I was starting to feel that I can stick it out here, that my goals had a better chance here than where I was.  I was starting to find my footing even with those that did not have the same work ethic as I happen to have.  The drama maker was becoming less of a thorn in my side, the trouble maker appeared to be less obvious in my line of sight, and the unmotivated's behavior was becoming easier to ignore.  I was finding my niche and felt secure in my work space.  That is, until I watched a client of mine be shuffled off to another that, I was under the impression was not certified to do, suddenly being certified.  That first lie from my boss really stung and had me questioning everything.  Then, after spending a whole day with virtually nothing to do, no walk-ins, no phone calls for appointments.... I was faced with an opportunity that I did not feel was worth the risk.  A client deciding, on a whim, to to a complete transformation that would require bleaching out their hair to the shade of white and re-color it in tones of purple and grey.  Sure, I could have done it, but the integrity of the hair was in question and so was the knowledge that the salon did not have the grey color in stock.  I know that I am good, but I can't match what the client wanted with the supplies that were available to me.  I had to inform this client's interpreter (yes, she did not speak English) of these things because a picture on Pinterest is not what it seems.  Especially, in the day and age of filters on cameras.  In order to detract this person from making a grave mistake, I informed them of the risks and the starting cost, because there were going to be multiple services being done to achieve what they wanted.  My boss, who was getting ready to leave for the day, kept pushing for this to be done, saying it can be done and if she was not needing to leave for the day.... she would do this herself.  When the potential client decided to think about it and left, I was yelled at for not taking the job.  That it was to make not just me, but her money.  That was when my questioning ways came back and had me wondering..... does this salon not care about it's reputation?  Does money trump everything?  I guess it does.... to a point, but is it really worth charging someone a minimum of $200 for 4 hours of  what can be labeled as a corrective coloring process that requires maintenance when the person asking for this service really has no intentions of maintaining it?  Heck, she did not want to have her hair cut after knowing the damage that lighteners can do to hair and to turn dark brown (almost black hair) to white in order to color it purple and grey.  Heck, these crazy party colors that people want either never come back because they can't afford to maintain them or they found someplace else to put them back to their natural shade when they tire of the look.  I had one that tried to get back to their natural color for a job prospect and colors like blue, purple, green, and pink don't ever go away without massive breakage or an undertone left behind.  It was a guarantee that this was not going to be a repeat client since there was a language barrier.  I have done enough to guarantee that was the case, but I was still given the feeling that I just don't have the drive to make it in her salon.  I know she won't fire me because I am more reliable than her little pet that she gave one of my clients to and smoothed it over with a lie, but is my future growth as secure as I thought it would be?

Now, I am at the crossroads again over my job choice.  Should I stay or should I go?  I see potential if I am given the chance, but because I basically talked a client into thinking about such a huge and expensive change not being the best choice and that put the target on my back where my boss is concerned.  Will she still offer opportunities my way since the clients I already have can't seem to bring in the referrals I need?  Can I find a way to promote myself further with basically no money available beyond hoping that word of mouth can do for me?  Do I need to change jobs and hope that the next place will be better for me, regardless of the odds that it will probably be the same or worse since my track record of finding a fair chance is slim to none?  Do I really want to leave this boss in a lurch since I already do more for her than most?  Or no matter what I do is going to be wrong and I get to go through bad experience after bad experience until I finally get it right?  Or do I just conform yet again for years to appease others and not feel secure in my future?  I would really like some feedback because I am really at a loss here.  Thanks for reading.....  

Curious minds want to know.....

Just a few thoughts here.  You know.... just thinking out loud, but why is society so focused on differences demanding equality when it is the constant reminders of those differences that create the problem.  Don't get me wrong, but why is the focus on the differences more important than the bigger picture?  With political correctness going so far as to coddling the bruised egos of others, where is the focus on the fact that every person, regardless of race, creed, religion, mental/emotional state, physical appearance, sexual orientation, and whatnot is a person first and their label is second?  A black person is still a person, right?  A gay person is still a person, right?  A person that believes in a different religion is still a person, right?  Then why all the chaos and upheaval?  We all have a core equality... we are people.  The labels to which we choose to highlight is what is causing the great divide and those labels are the problem.  Learning to be biased because of a label is wrong, but it is a tradition passed down from generation to generation.  It is truly up to those that have influence in their own lives as well as others (like a family situation), to change the tradition and the course of which is taken.  Yes, our labels make us different, but forcing these labels into the limelight only brings on the ugly base instincts of jealousy, prejudice, bigotry, and shame.  Heck, even in some cases.... violence.  In order to stop it, we need to shine the light away from those labels and focus on our common thread.... we are people.

Whew!  With that out of the way, I have another pondering thought process and that is due to the medical profession, the insurance industry, and the economy.  Oh, and maybe the coddling through political correctness and fear of hurting feelings.

When I was a kid, if I got out of hand, I would get a slap from my mom.  It could be her hand, a shoe, a wooden spoon or a belt, but that slap got my attention that I was misbehaving and I needed to pay attention to yet another life lesson.  Sure, I have no doubt that there were people that got out of hand when it came to punishing children for bad behavior.  Yes, there is a fine line between a punishment and abuse, but with today's parent being told that putting your child in a corner will suffice as a reasonable punishment, I fear that we just created a generation of people that truly have no learning curve to retain proper decorum.  Really, having a kid sit in a corner for a minute matching age in years is basically giving a child time to think now about what they did was wrong, but figure a way to not get caught next time.  I have watched children these days have a foul mouth and a snippy attitude towards their parents in public and watch the parents take it in stride.  Temper tantrums getting what they want so they would stop making a scene and zero follow through in teaching a life lesson that is important to retain.  Seems like we, as a society, is becoming a mental state.  Mental as in medicating less than zen like behavior and medically inducing what happiness is supposed to be like.  More and more children are being diagnosed with ADD, ADHD, Depression, and whatnot with cookie cutter guidelines easily found on Google and the internet.  A child that thinks outside the box has ADD, a child with boundless energy has ADHD, an angst ridden preteen and teenager is automatically depressed or bipolar.  All these conditions are getting medicated.  It seems to be all the rage to shove a pill down your child's throat instead of teach our children the essential coping skills.  Of course, when it comes to teenagers.... they really have no interest in sharing anything with their parents in order to get these words of wisdom to help them.  No, we get doctors digging in the shallow end of the diagnosis pool and pushing parents to send your child to a psychologist with a prescription in hand.  Not exactly teaching our youth the proper skills to take on challenges, but to lead them into a life filled with pills that have potentially dangerous side effects.  More dangerous than the diagnosis symptoms.  The push for perfection without the padding of reminding your child that as long as they did their best, that is good enough.  Sadly, regardless of the number of times we remind our children just that.... they still push themselves harder than necessary, thus becoming the cookie cutter crumb of diagnosis that will result in popping more pills.  Really, is it living a drug free life if you are chained to your prescription bottle?

Of course, lets not forget the coddling of the parents to let their child refuse to learn rational thought or seek actual help because there are parents these days that will condone bad behavior in the first place.  That coddling of emotions that are desirable and ignoring the less than joyful ones is a recipe for disaster.  Forcing our hand at being involved more than being the cook and the chauffeur to the extra curricular activities with a side of being the maid and your child's personal piggy bank is necessary.  Life skills need to be taught and it is not fully being covered in the classroom.  Sadly, the current economy and the cost of living makes it mandatory to have both parents unavailable for much more than the very basics and relying on the school system to fill the blanks. Electronic babysitters are on the rise and our youth lack social graces, but they are being used more and more.  The music scene has its pitfalls when children try to emulate their favorite artist with either a lack of clothes or jeans sagging down to their knees.  Their demand for attention is attracting bad attention, but as they see it.... attention is attention.  There is a disconnection with our youth and we are allowing it because we just cannot find the time or energy to do much about it.  Money is the driving force and it takes effort to earn it.  Sadly, there are some that put innocent people at risk by taking it instead.  There seems to be less and less middle ground these days.  It is one or the other.  You can be more involved in your child's life, but lack the funds to support most of everything, or you can be less involved and hope for the best.  The less in either scenario is damaging.  But hey!  There are now medications to fix the problem, right?  Sigh, it is just so sad.  I guess the reason for this rant is that DD's doctor has yet again labeled her "depressed" and is now pushing for her to be medicated.  Not all that thrilled with that assessment since there are medications that have potential dangers and side effects that make me second guess if she should go the medicinal route, but the constant reminder that DD's mental health questionnaire shows her as depressed and in need of help is pushing me to just make everyone chemically happy and let them medicate her.  I just need assurances that she does not become chemically dependent.  Life is not meant to be lived in a fog, but I just don't know what else I can do anymore.  She does counseling during the school year (it is what we can actually afford right now), but she says that counseling in a group is not benefiting her like it should.  I try talking to her, but she has no interest in me helping her.  I guess the time has come to try to find more money from the lack of that we have to at least get her to see a professional outside of the school system for some one on one.  I just hope it works.

My own personal heck....

Come one!  Come all!  Watch as a basically calm person lose their collective sh... mind.  Sounds like fun, right?  Not to me, but here I am.... trying to regain some composure to face the world and not scare people away in the process.  Here are the current events of my life and my plea that I should get an award for my efforts.  Of course, I have no doubt that there is someone that is having a far worse go of things than my little pile of sh... stuff on my plate.  But in the need of some mental flossing, I am going to just "blog it out" and go on with my day if that is alright with ya'all, okee dokee?  So here goes....

With my home crumbling around my ankles and DH's lackadaisical ways of not bothering to fix the problem stems from his theory that if it does not stare at him in the face on a daily basis.... it really is nothing that needs to be done right away.  Case in point.... I have water damage on my roof that has been an issue for so long that I now have water damage in my kitchen.  Now, DH did fix the drainage issue that was on the roof, but there is a water damage issue that needs addressing.  Rotting wood on my roof is not exactly stable material above my head and that concerns me.  Well, that and the fact that I have a corner of my kitchen damaged by the water from the roof.  Now lacking 2 cabinets because one has the bottom falling out leaves me little usable space to store kitchen items.  The corner of my kitchen counter is now a drop off zone of wood particles and as an added bonus.... carpenter ants.... big ones.  I asked DH for a time frame when I can truly use my kitchen again, but he is not interested in getting the necessary estimates to even start the repair process.  You see, he does not spend enough time in the places that need repairs to feel the urgency to just get it done.  I mean, really, who spends a lot of time on their roof?  Kitchen?  I get it.  Most of my work was in the kitchen.  Operative word being... WAS.  Grilling season is in full swing and I am utilizing that to the fullest.  Sadly, I might be grilling in the snow come this winter because DH is showing no signs of getting anything fixed.  With every cleaning of wood crumbles off my kitchen counter, I die a little inside.

Not exactly sure if pushing my family away is a good thing or a bad thing, but this little thing called "Menopause", is definitely making me madder than a one-handed wallpaper hanger.  The hot flashes feel like I suffer from spontaneous combustion, but without the actual fire.  The night sweats and disrupted sleep patterns make it hard for me to focus on much for at least 4 hours after declaring myself awake to face the day.  The dry skin and itching from that is feeling like I am trapped in a very small room filled with creepy crawly bugs and biting mosquitoes.  The old saying is true regarding the intensity of the itch is based solely upon the location that cannot be reached.  If I am not sweating, I am itching.  Definitely makes me a bit cranky.  Speaking of cranky.... Lately, I have been so frustrated with everything that I had the urge to hit everyone within reach of me.  DH seems to be in the cross hairs more often than not.  I am mad at him for not being home as well as I am mad at him for actually being at home.  It seems I cannot make up my mind.  There is no middle ground anymore.  Same goes for DD.  Since she has a boyfriend, she is spending less time at home.  All I seem to be thinking is that I am left to take care of the messy house that they leave in their wake.  Nobody offers to cook a meal, let alone eat it as a family.  The microwave is definitely being appreciated more than my efforts.  Then, there are the dishes.... Really, nobody will offer to clean a dish, but they are more than happy to dirty them.  And don't get me started on the laundry!  Oh, and the apparent inability of my family to bend over to pick anything up.... Yep, lets not go there. 

Of course, there is the mood swings that seem to be a barrel of laughs.  Mad one minute and crying the next.  I believe I am seriously losing my effing mind!  Not sure it stems from my determination to try to keep my emotions in check for the greater good, but DH now looks at me with fear in his eyes because my actions are very similar to a mental patient off their meds.  I am guessing he is trying to either find a way to talk this crazy "B" off the ledge or trying to find the nearest escape route.  I don't exactly know how to safely express myself to ease the emotional pressure in my head.  I work with people and I do my best to at least try to make light of my situation, but in all honesty.... I am suffering.  Very tempted to see the doctor and get medicated, but after watching my fair share of drug commercials with their almost endless list of risks and side effects.... I am still weighing the odds in my head.  Take a hormone replacement drug to get relief, or increase the family history of breast cancer risk?  Take an herbal supplement to hope there is relief, or find myself becoming a statistic in the potential side effect risk category of depression to the point of desiring to take my own life?  Didn't know that Melantonin is capable of increasing depression, but it says just that on the bottle.

Of course, I really don't think taking something that could increase depression is a good idea.  I am depressed enough with some of the other minimal, but not to be ignored side effects of Menopause....  Weight gain and growing hair in places that really shouldn't grow hair on women.  Looking at food already puts me at risk for gaining another pound.  Noes not matter what I drink, I get more bloated as the day goes on.  I can count on my tossing and turning every night as the extra exercise I try to do on a daily basis.  The hair on my chin gets yanked by tweezers almost daily.  It is possible that there is more than the one, but at least it is only one hair a day and not a dozen.  Yep, I am living in my own personal little heck.... An occasional sweaty, almost always itchy, bloated, emotional basket case that seems to be tortured with a crumbling house and clueless family.  Yep, living the dream, man.... living the dream.  <<--  That was sarcasm, you know.  HA!  Living the dream....  NOT.

Well, I have things to do and no interest in actually doing them, but I will.  Thanks for reading and have a stupendous day!

Stressed, desserts.... same difference....

Everyone has heard the phrase, "stressed is desserts spelled backwards".  In my case, I see it as being one of the same these days.  Especially when the proof is on my waistline.

Stress: the killer of tranquility and calm.  For every person, what stresses one person does not necessarily equal a stressful event of another.  While the basics - money and time - are the major culprits of one's stress level, in fact, it is the common thread every person deals with, but there are other factors that people rarely ever pay all that much attention to.  In fact, there are plenty of people that have been "conditioned" to tolerate these less than common triggers for stress, but once the threshold has been achieved, the body reacts in a far different way than what people see as "common" or "customary".  In hindsight of this personal finding in my life, I have also made a cross-reference to certain behaviors that are coping mechanisms to stressful situations.  Here are the ones I believe are valid. at least to me....

I am by no means a skinny girl.  I have always had curves.  In a society that worships excessively thin women as seen in the fashion magazines, I never managed to measure up.  Even when I was considered underweight according to the BMI chart in the doctor's office.  Of course, I was only 16 years old at the time, but being at 5'7" and only 110 pounds, I was not happy even at that weight.  My bone structure never matched the average cover model and regardless of that fact, I knew I could never truly be happy with myself.  In fact, I would sell my soul to be back at that sickly looking weight now, but I do value my faith a little more these days, so selling is not an option anymore.  That, and food has been my crutch for stress.  Yep, I am another common statistic of being an emotional eater.... both mentally and physically.

Knowing my stress triggers is like listing the acceptable foods list of DH.  If you have not heard, DH has a very limited palate... very limited.  It is easier to list what he will eat because the list of foods he won't would take forever.  He prefers the processed garbage that is dieting no-no after dieting no-no.  Sausage, cheese, pizza, burgers, and pasta are his go-to foods.  It has taken me almost 17 years of marriage to get him to eat a banana, eat un-breaded chicken or pork, and expand his vegetable choices beyond corn. peas, and carrots.  I mean, he will eat celery or tomatoes once in a while, but it needs to have a load of salt on it.  Lettuce is only a condiment for tacos and sub sandwiches.  His favorite Saturday meal he would make for lunch was buttered noodles with a stick of butter to a 1 pound box of noodles and who knows how much salt.  Believe me, his cholesterol was awful.  But after a health scare, he is at least trying to be a little more reasonable, but not by much.  The responsibility of making his go-to and accepted foods healthy has put plenty of stress on my shoulders.  Look at that.... one stress inducing event mentioned here and lets say that this one thing has increased my weight by 10 pounds.

With time and money not even mentioned until now, lets point out the other stress inducing factors to my already tested nervous system, shall we?

With the current economy still in the toilet, this household is under a painfully tight budget and DH is holding the checkbook.  With this chosen budget by DH, I have the added pressure to not only make foods he will eat in a healthy fashion (which is a challenge in itself), I now have a limit to how much is made and what a serving size is per person, all with having zero leftovers that may or may not be thrown away.  Since DD and I are tired of eating the same stuff from week to week, we are not exactly ones to eat leftovers.  DH usually took care of that situation, but after his last cholesterol check with the doctor, we (meaning me) needed to buckle down even more.  Yep, being responsible to remain within a budget and ration out what we eat has yet again been placed solely on my shoulders.  DH and DD don't cook.  It is not like they are incapable of cooking, they just choose to not cook, period.  In all honesty, their cooking abilities are really only limited to boiling water, using the microwave, and putting a frozen pizza in the oven.  Anything going beyond three ingredients and two steps is completely out of their comfort zone.  I have tried to make them participate in cooking since DH is a hawk at watching what lands in the shopping cart every week (yes, we all are required to shop for groceries weekly as a family, yet another stress inducing event I deal with).  With a slide rule and limited ingredients, I am to create edible meals that the whole family will consume.  Trust me, taking a package of ground sirloin that usually holds four servings, bulk it up to an amount to feed six, divide by two and with those two mounds, create two totally different meals from them.  You try that and tell me that it is not stress inducing.  Increase in weight.... another 20 pounds.

Besides the food and money situation, we have a time management issue at hand.  Since returning to work, albeit part time, it is apparently still my responsibility to keep the house clean, the laundry caught up, and the errands done.  Usually, I can handle this, but when my family has not exactly been step up worthy and even managed to step back even more.... I cannot keep up.  When I was home full time, I could follow them around with an arsenal of cleaning supplies.  The hunt to collect dirty clothes to be laundered is still going on.  The desire for anyone to put things were they belong is obviously not there, and by the look of my floors..... neither is bending over to pick up crumbs, seeds, or wipe up spills.  With the cooking situation still on my shoulders, I just don't have all that much time on my hands anymore. Especially, when I am gone almost every day for work and on those few days that I may not need to be there.... I am running all the other errands.  Back in 2008, I knew my family would not step up to ease the load on my shoulders.  In fact, I have even more.  As overwhelming as it is to me, it is yet another stress inducing event that has created yet another 10 pound weight gain.

Now, with an estimated 40 pounds gained just by my situation at home, I am not even done with the stress weight add on.  My relationship with DH is stressful on a personal level.  I am the proverbial dart board of snide remarks, nit picking, and lack of interest in who I am as a person.  Recent events highlighted that DH has zero interest in what I thought was funny happening over the weekend and managed to shoot down all communications because what I wanted to share with him was not interesting in his opinion.  My request for some seriously needed home repairs have been ignored and my kitchen has suffered water damage with zero plans for fixing it any time soon.  I probably have mold, but I guess that of it doesn't affect DH, it shouldn't affect anyone else in the house.  Of course, that bounces back to the budget situation and since the water damage is not killing anyone at the moment... I guess it can wait?  The roof of our home is damaged, but with DH's rerouting of a downspout from a gutter.... I guess everything is just honky-dory?  DD is in her unpredictable moody stage and I just have no clue what to do with that.  One minute, she is the kid I love dearly, the next, I am an embarrassment to her, then the next.... I am not exactly her biggest fan.  Meaning, I love her all the time, but I don't like her as I should from time to time.  I guess she feels the same about me.  The relationship between her and her father is rocky, at best, and there are times I have to play peacemaker.  Then, there is apparently my new responsibility to teach DD to drive since the one time her father took her.... it turned into an argument of epic proportions.  With DD's slight tendency to being a lead-foot, I am doing my best to try to breathe through the panic and try to explain to her how to be a better driver without setting her off into a tirade.  Hmmm.... that sounds like another 30 pounds of weight gain.

Let's see..... roughly 70 pounds of unwanted fat hanging off my not-so ideal bone structure and I am not even done yet.  Lets add on another 20 for the stress from working in a commission based environment, surrounded by a bunch of tightly wound, stressed coworkers that expect everything and refuse to take responsibility for anything.  The demands of hard to please clients, the unbearable traffic to and from work, and those long stretches of time I sit at my job, waiting for work to happen.

I guess I should just chalk this all up to being an overwhelmed and very under appreciated woman going through the starting stages of menopause.  Menopause alone is a guaranteed weight gaining situation in itself.  What I did not expect is the return of my panic attacks and my ulcer.  I went to the doctor, complaining about my throat not feeling right.  It feels swollen and it is hard to swallow at times.  I have managed to choke while eating.  If I am not drinking water with every bite of food, I will literally choke, in fact, I have thrown up a few times because I couldn't breathe from choking.  Now, that should have me drop the weight like crazy, right?  Nope.  I have enough weight gaining cortisol flowing through my bloodstream that I am still gaining weight.  Regardless of how active I can and have been.  With the acid churning insides I have going on, my throat is irritated and slightly swollen.... slightly, my backside!  I am in agony here!!!!  Even drinking water is a crap-shoot lately.  Because of the increased acids reaching the back of my throat, I am now required to take antacids on a daily basis with hopes things will settle down.  Along with that, I am debating if I should go back on anti-anxiety medications, but with the stress I am dealing with.... it won't do much good if the stress is still there.  Beads and books have been my outlet for stress and even those things are becoming unappealing to me,  I fear I am one more aggravation from really losing it and needing a rubber room we cannot afford for my well being.  Really, in the grand scheme of things, what is stressing me to the brink of insanity is not all that much for other people to handle, but why is it so hard for me to deal with?  Is it because that the track record for those that are supposed to support me seem to always fall short?  Is it that I lack the ability to process things individually and lump it all into one pile?  Or is it just I am far to weak to deal with anything these days?  I just don't know, but my prescription is ready to be picked up and I have to go.

Thanks for reading!

Make... it.... STOP!!! Please!

Ringing of the telephone has never made me feel such dread and frustration.  Robocalls left and right, scam artists trying to put the scare in people, and recorded ramblings found each time I answer the phone these days.  The worst offender is the people with the strong Pakistani accent claiming their name is "Shawn" or "Dave", or "Mike", claiming to be from Microsoft technical support.  Their spiel?  Apparently, they can locate viruses in computers that no longer exist.  Regardless of the notion that I got rid of my old computer after having it worked on by an actual tech expert that assured me that there is no viruses.  My old computer was just that.... old.  Too old to keep working, unless I replace a cooling fan again.  I got a new computer because I was long overdue and even with my new computer, I was assured that by the Geek Squad at Best Buy where I bought this thing.... there are no viruses or issues.  Especially when it is brand-spanking new.

While buying a new computer is considered frivolous, I took this from my vacation fund I was saving up for to finally take a trip to see my best friend that happened to move to Nevada.  With the last actual vacation taken (alone or with my family), being in March of 2007, I can say that I am well overdue for a break.  I even considered taking DD with me since her last vacation away from home was the same time I had a vacation.  DH gets an annual break from us to go "fishing" with his buddies for a few days in the next state over.  The operative word should be he is actually fishing, but every year, he comes home with a sunburn and a hangover with zero fish caught.  Knowing that the need for a computer is more important than my apparent sanity, I made the investment in a new computer.  I do like it.  It works better than my old one.  Sadly, I really don't utilize all the bells and whistles this thing has and probably never will.

Okay, back to the topic here....

With some broken or old things being slowly replaced, I am still harassed by these con-artists that want to hijack my computer.  Just because I had a remotely nice moment and talked to one of these people - a mistake I now regret - these people just won't stop calling me.  They have my first name and ask for me now.  Hidden behind caller ID names of "unavailable", "name not found", a random city or state with a hodgepodge of numbers for a telephone number, and the most unsettling of the bunch.... pasting my husband's name with our home phone number as the caller ID.  Creepy, as in seeing my home phone show a call from my home phone number on the caller ID.  Makes me think of those horror flicks that result in finding out the creepy calls are coming from inside my house.  Regardless, these people call and ask for me with their heavily accented English with their scare tactics of viruses on my computer.  Of course, they now are claiming my I.P. address is infected.  Yep, they have upped their game.  I have checked with my I.T. person and this threat does not hold water.

Don't get me wrong, I really do not try to speak to these people.  I have tried to kindly ask them to stop calling me and to remove me from their list.  Obviously, that did not work.  I have answered the call in another language (my limited Spanish is at least passable), but that results in them hanging up and calling again.  I have answered the phone stating that they just called the county morgue and same result as the answering the phone in Spanish.  DD took a call and answered in German and still no stopping them from calling again.  I have hung up on them, too, but they have not given up.  There are times I did not look at the caller ID and answered the phone.  I have informed them that "Nancy no longer lives here", to "Nancy has died recently".  Still, no stopping them.  I have told them that I no longer have a computer and that has fallen on deaf ears.  All I can say is that these people are persistent.  In all honesty.... they have upped their calling to multiple calls a day.  Over the past two days, I have received 35 calls, and 20 of them have been from these scam artists.  It is really getting out of hand!

While I do say that I am a reasonable and patient person, I am really losing my cool with these people!! My answering machine is getting a workout and I am almost ready to rip the damn phone out of the wall.  With no apparent stop in sight and the knowledge that with the upcoming presidential election just over the horizon, I am filled with dread about the constant ringing of my phone I have yet in store for me.  Between the scam artists and their brand of harassment, I will be bombarded with robocalls (that computer generated call that gives a recorded message instead of an actual person), regarding the upcoming election.  That is, in addition to the robocalls about saving on my electric bill, credit card interest savings, and whatever company that is trying to sell vent cleaning, lawn services, or whatnot.

I have signed up again for the "do not call" registry.  I know, a waste of time, but a girl can dream, right?  I have called my phone provider with requests for help regarding the harassment and the robocalls.  They gave me what they could to deter the barrage of calls with call blocking unidentified or name not available calls.  With my begs and pleading for these people to just LEAVE... ME... ALONE, I have been told to "fuck off" by the scammers.  Fitting sentiment since I told them to do the same, but that only irked them enough to up their annoyances even more.  With a second call to my phone provider, their security department is now looking into finding a solution for me without having to change my phone number.  In all honesty, I would change my phone number to something unlisted, but these hacks will figure a way to call again.  I just know it.  Especially when robocalling is all the rage these days.  A computer generated random number dialing machine will eventually find even the most secretive people out there.  I just don't have the patience to call every doctor we have, the school, and every family member with the new number that I will most likely never memorize like I have with my current number.  The hassle is enough to make me pause.  I just fear that these annoyances are going to push me to do just that.  I just have to inform DH when I do since he will have to remember the number change, too.

Next topic: the horrors of home ownership....

Paying a mortgage is something everyone does when they buy a residence.  DH and I have a home that we are paying for, but as with items in the home..... the home will need repairs and updates from time to time.  Something as simple as a fresh coat of paint can make a difference.  Sadly, DH has not had any interest in fixing what is broken here that is beyond my scope of abilities.  I am not a general contractor and I don't do ladders, but we have a leak in our roof that is now damaging my kitchen cabinets.  Not all cabinets... just the corner one.  Well, the leak has been fixed, but there is some water damage to the siding on the house that resulted in water seepage into my kitchen.  Of course, we are well overdue for an upgrade of our circa 1970 kitchen.  Laminate cabinets and laminate countertops, oh joy!  We still have the same wallpaper since the sale of this house on the walls of that room.  Sure, I can deal with the country kitchen look, but when the laminate is peeling off the cabinets and the counter is looking a little warped.... it is time to upgrade.  Well, that and the fact that the oven is original to this house when it was built in 1956 and is so obsolete that replacement parts no longer exist and have been "engineered" by DH.  I fear that my house will burn down one of these days, I swear.  In all honesty, I am not a real fancy person.  Bells and whistles don't excite me.  As long as things work (or do their specific task), I am not one to run to the home improvement store to get the newest gadget.  I think DH appreciates that about me, but when my house is crumbling around my ankles with water seepage, crumbling cabinets, and bug infestations.... I get a little cranky.... and a little impatient.  If DH is lacking motivation much longer.... I will start to have very expensive tastes.  I am having my doubts for a new kitchen, but when he returns from his "fishing" trip, he will get the nickle tour of what his lackadaisical ways is costing us.  I really want to refuse to cook in my kitchen until it is fixed, but I don't have much choice.  I do, though, have to prepare meals to be cooked in another room because of the new tenants that seem to like the waterlogged corner cabinet.  Carpenter ants!!!  Big Ones!!!!  After completely emptying out the damaged cabinet (and its neighbor), I bleached the heck out of them and then sprayed bug killer in them.  I have no interest in ever putting anything in those cabinets ever again.  Especially, after the storm of dead ants landing on my counter top.  Kind-of grosses me out and I have been a little high on bleach fumes since.  Not a good combination.  It does make me wonder.... am I being punished?  Am I being punked?  Or am I just so darn unlucky that I have this happening to me.  Of course, I doubt that I am alone in these unfortunate events.  DH and DD get to suffer with me.

Of course, I almost forgot....  Since DH left for his "fishing" trip this week.... I learned that not all generic medications have a generic price.  A prescription for me did a $60 slap to my wallet, DD's drops for her recent bout with pink eye could have slapped my wallet for another $60, but her doctor gave us a coupon and it only slapped my wallet for $25.  Gotta love medical insurance.... costs a fortune, but covers practically nothing.  I will say that if we did not have prescription coverage (as minimal as it is). my prescription would have been $70 and DD's eye drops would be a whopping $190.  Yep, definitely said bye bye to the vacation/craptastrophe fund over the course of a few days and the end is still not in sight.

I decided that it is better to laugh at these unfortunate events than cry.  Kind of getting a little hard to keep laughing, so.....  here is a message to God:

Dear God,

I am screaming "Uncle" here!!!  I can't hold it all together anymore.  It is time for you to take the wheel and take over.  Please make this stop!!  Needing a breather here.  Can you do me a solid and take over?  Thanks!!

Thanks for reading and have a great weekend!