purge.

So has anyone else had a day where they are looking for a specific shirt to wear and can't find it? So they tear through their closets and drawers with no luck. So that leads them to the spare room where ALL the cloths from like, the last 10 years are stored in clear plastic bins, to look. And after about the 8th bin you realize that, hey, like none of your old clothes actually, erm, fit you. So you start making piles of "will fit in soon after new dedication to eating right and exercising", "totally out of style anyways" and "not a chance in hell ". Then you come across the shirt you were wearing the night your Spouse first hit on you and you could just cry because you couldn't even hope to get it over your head now and dang you used to look so HOT what were you complaining about all those years ago?? The toddler whose birth process single handedly (yeah I don't care if its a word or not take that Scrabble) destroyed any hope you ever had of fitting into those (you know the ones) jeans again is having a field day with all these piles so you start to tear up a bit at the muffin top that you hate even though its not so much a muffin top as a layer cake but you have to laugh at the same time because the kid is so freaking cute and was worth it after all. But my God the CLOTHES that DON'T FIT that you need to part with but want to keep as a reminder not to eat that Geneva cookie which will only increase your layers. Then the whole thing ends brutally with you just shoving it all into black trash bags and throwing them into the garage because you need to get on the phone with Weight Watchers and you are running out of time in the day? Oh and you never find the freaking shirt that started it in the first place and where the freak is it anyways because you know that would fit.

No?

Yeah..me neither.

its not me its you.

I went to the movies the other night with a couple of my girlfriends.


The theater we went to was one from my younger years; top of the line circa 1992.


The last time I was there was the winter of 2005 when I watched a Gummi bear travel across Middle Earth.


When I took my seat I was shocked at how, erm, small it seemed. I wondered...had they made the seats smaller or had my ass just become that much bigger....


At the end of the show the lights came on and I absorbed my dated surroundings. Examining the seats, I rationalized and justified.


It was the seats fault. It had to be.


Cause' you know...it couldn't possibly be my ass.

the cheese wears me.

I'm under the suspicion that I'm depressed.

After another failed attempt at socialization today for me and Riley at the park, I went to Target and bought 7 different types of cheese.

If thats not depression I don't know what is.

the perfect diet.

I think I've finally figured out. After years of struggling with my body....the perfect diet.

I call it the Anti-Salivate diet and it's sorta based on Pavlov's Dog theory.

Think about food- make food- attempt to eat food.

Blinding searing pain. Radiating from my inner ear and pulsing through my whole head...certainly more effective than a bell.

If the food actually enters my mouth watch out, that is where the real punishment begins.

There's not a number on the pain scale for what I feel; and that's with copious amounts of percoset acetaminophen coursing in my veins.

My liver is loving it I'm sure.

Drugs I have to take (obviously) on an empty stomach. So if the cutting head pain wasn't enough to deter nutrition in any form entering my system the belly pains are a great follow up.

Psychologically it's really doing a number on me. Water seems to be the only thing I can have; but not too much. If I indulge a dull ache begins.

So the upside of having one of your main salivary glands partially removed is weight loss.

Take that Hollywood.

Because there has to be an upside; I'm really a glass is half full sort of girl.

all of those years of art school and I finally have something in common with Van Gogh.

This morning while talking to Spouse....

"It's been almost a week and I don't feel at this point that it's the stitches primarily holding my ear on..."

Really...I said that. In my kitchen. No one should ever have occasion to say that.

I think I have turned a corner this morning. Not because I can mock my predicament. Ok a little because I can mock my predicament. But because I woke up this morning and felt like me again.

Not the drugged up, sliced open version of me that was totally incapable of caring for either herself, her husband or her baby.

I completely underestimated the surgery and the recovery. For some reason I never really thought about it; I was too busy focusing on my smile.

I just figured a little slice here and there, Lumpy would pop out and that would be that.

Not so much.

They took my ear off.

Yeah you read that right.

They cut it and flipped it back and lord only knows what else.

I was F'ed up! Ask BF, she was here (out of the never ending goodness of her heart) and she took wonderful care of me. But she can support me here without me having to post really gross pictures (which I am happy to do if you guys want to see them). I was F'ed up.

I still cant feel my ear, but after cleaning out all the crusted yuck from it this morning I can hear again. So there's that.

The stitches come out Thursday and then I can actually shower.

I haven't washed my hair in a week.

So lets recap....Crust, stitches, sliced ear and neck, goo, yuck, no shower.

Go one...line up and who gets to be friends with me!

by osmosis.

My heart hurts.

As my baby plays quietly by herself on the floor (as I think she does too often) my fingers clack clackity away on pointless internet crap.

Have you played Sramble or Scrabulous on Facebook? My lord it's an obsession.

My car died again last night. I know AGAIN.

This time it was the battery, and this time it happened in my very own garage...this time Spouse could fix it. BUT; I didn't realize how scarred I was from my previous experiences with my piece of crap Jeep. The fear and stress descended upon me in an instant. I shook with anxiety.

not again not again not again.

10 Days in New Jersey, breaking down in a ghetto Springfield Massachusetts. The hits with this car just keep coming. Each time its happened I cry "new car"....and then we pay a small fortune get it fixed and Spouse cries "no money".

Which is very true. We have no money.

And we live kind of in the middle of no where.

And we don't really know anybody.

And the only times I feel like I leave the house are because I make an excuse to and it's always to go somewhere that people traditionally spend money.

Which we don't have.

In a car that is an afternoon with AAA waiting to happen.

Do you see where I'm going with this? My heart hurts. I'm lonely. I'm broke. I can't go too far.

shhhhh I think I may even be a teeny-eeny-bit....depressed.

There I said it.

I have looked for stuff to do....it's all far away. Kindermusik, Gymboree, Meet-ups, Mommy and Me. Far far away.

Money. Gas prices. Car time bomb.

Yes I know I make a lot of excuses, I'm famous for them (chime in here BF).

BUT; this time I am really trying.

And it's not working.

And that doesn't help.

I also happen to come along with the small handicap of imploding instantaneously in temperatures above 70 degrees.

My worst nightmare is that the car will leave me stranded on the side of the road on a hot day with my baby. I fear it.

Not in the way I fear clowns, but more in the inevitable end sort of way.

As if I'm waiting for it.

And that is no way to live.

I'm not happy and I think I said as much to Spouse last night. Although he may not have picked up on the words exactly, you know, with all of the crying and the blubbering and the finger pointing.

And here's the rub. I don't exactly feel as if I'm entitled to be unhappy. I have a wonderful husband, an amazing baby and a beautiful home. Where do I get off?

I know it's a dangerous trap to compare yourself to others, and I'm not doing that. I'm comparing myself to myself. I know when I have felt like this in the past and frankly things were awful.

To make myself feel better I would dream of this life I have now. But then I would attack myself and scold saying I would never get it. I didn't deserve it.

Well you know what, I know I deserve it and I worked really freaking hard to get it.

But it's not enough; I feel like a spoiled brat because I want the other stuff too. I want the friends who are there all of the time, physically as well as emotionally. I want things to do. I want some action.

Friendly, free, air-conditioned, action.

I just don't know where to look for it, and I don't know if my car can get me there.

Sorry about that....

Miami, Rochester NY, Denver (I totally cheated on that one), Cleveland and San Francisco.

I know I made it hard. Sorry.

But you see...I had to win the argument with Spouse right?

*********************************************************

As to what took so long to get back to it....I am working through some stuff.

When I work through stuff I tend to curl up in a mental fetal position. That's just me.

Right now I am not funny, or moving, or emotional.

I am just terrified. I felt so good for so long.

But now I am looking at the inevitable.


And I am frozen in place.

Lessons

I learned three very important things yesterday.

The first; That Lumpy is benign.

The second; The place I mentally send myself to stay calm during painful medical procedures has changed. It is no longer the rolling hills of my childhood in Vermont.

I now find myself in a soft rocking chair in the solace of Riley's room. Just the two of us, quietly nursing.

That is where I am at peace and where I draw the strength I need to fight the battles my body insists on putting me through.

Finally; There is actually a much better route to Trader Joe's then going through downtown Worcester. (For the record it's pronounced Wusta).

...well thank goodness for that.

Chewed By Rodents!

That was the official diagnosis.

Rodents. Chewed.

5 days and what they found was a wire...Chewed. By. Rodents.

Now I have two theories on this one. You tell me which is more likely....

The squirrels which are currently inhabiting my father's attic targeted me as the individual that called animal control on their fuzzy little behinnys. Having realized that it was in fact me, took action against me by deducing which car was mine and crawled up into my engine block to chew the wire which just so happens to control the main computer. Having done this they then returned to their comfy warm attic condos to await my destruction. They took great joy in watching me struggle with my car and laughed merrily as I was stranded. They took further aggressions out on me by constantly chewing and digging only over the baby's room; causing chaos while nursing and during nap time.

(please imagine all of this to the theme song from Mission Impossible)

Or....

This notoriously criminal dealership found a way to legally charge me for the computer that was covered under warranty.

Geee.....let me think....

After a large and loud argument with the service manager followed by forced payment (we may have to remortgage the house for this one); I am home.

HOME!

Thank you all for your support, suggestions and kind words during my forced imprisonment.

What made it worth it?

My Dad bonded with the baby....awesome.

Said baby, upon seeing her father for the first time yesterday morning. SQUEALED.

With her whole body.

From the top of her head to the tips of her toes...she trembled and SQQQUUUEEEEEEAAALLLLEEDD!!

Now...if you'll excuse me. I have a scathing letter to write to Chrysler.

outside the obvious

Ummmm yeah...Still here. The update...the dealer can not fix my Jeep either.

WTF?

So as I slowly loose my mind here is my list for why I think it is best I get back to CT ASAP!

• Stairs. In CT I have stairs and I miss them.


• The last part of the BBS production of Pride and Prejudice is recorded on my home DVR.


• Foot rubs. Need I say more?


• Temprapedic mattress baby.


• Sunny sunshiny house. My house is like vitamin D central all year long. It is the brightest happiest place I have ever lived.


• My front loader washer and dryer.


• In combo with #6, I would like to wear something besides the 3 days worth of clothing I brought with me.


• Silent doors. All the doors at my Dads house squeak and it makes me crazy.


• Speaking of squeaks. There are squirrels living in my Dads attic and they are building squirrel condos up there like freaking Doozers.


• Riley is 3 months old today. (gasp!). I have neither the camera or the stuffed puppy I photograph her with every month - with me.


• If I stay in NJ another minute I think I may strangle my JMIL.


• Ummm the baby is actually out growing her clothes I brought with me.


• I was firm on this one....I in no way shape or form ever wanted to live in NJ ever ever again. Now however, every day seems more and more like I am actually living here and it is making me very uncomfortable.


• When a squirrel was caught today I found myself wanting to pet it. I miss my cats!


• My fridge at home has a water/ice dispenser. Who knew that would turn into an indispensable item when you are forcibly removed from it for 10 days.


• On the subject of water...I drink a TON of it...From LARGE Cups. I can not tolerate the 8oz drinking glasses in this house. They are for insane and clearly dehydrated people.


• I am not ready for spring. It is coming here and I am afraid by the time I get home it will have arrived there.


• If I don't get home soon I fear Spouse will have driven himself insane by watching too many hours of the NFL Network.


• I am becoming a shop-a-holic for my baby. I have bought her 3 Easter dresses and we are Jewish.


• I seriously, honestly and truly miss home.

All joking aside. This is the worst part of all of it. Spouse. Alone. Up there.

Sure he goes to work and he comes home as usual. But there is no one there to welcome him. He has not had a hug in 10 days! This is the longest we have been apart since we began to date. It is hurting both of us. But it gets worse. He is missing his baby. The baby I took with me when I left is not the same girl I am bringing home.

She squeals.

She grabs her toys.

She passes them from one hand to another and brings them to her mouth.

She laughs. Today for the first time. She laughed and laughed and laughed.

And he missed it.

I just want to go home now.

Please?

there'll be days like this

Hi. I am in NJ.

It seems I will be here indefinitely. My Jeep is currently in the shop with its guts and vital organs tossed about the garage.

It all started innocently enough. Tagging along after BF to NJ and spending a few days with my father. Excellent.

But then these little life things can turn in a second. Click. Crank. Sputter. Just like that.

I try to stay positive and I try to stay stress free.

Calling on hypnobirthing skills....reeelllaaaaxxxx.

Bullshit. I am negatively effected (affected?) by my lack of Jeep and sleep. I was considerably stressed out when the most honest mechanic in the world, Sammy the Pure and True...tells me.....

(cue soundtrack of some horrible B movie slasher flick)

Not only can he not fix it....but....BUT....it has to go to the ....dealer.

The Dealer.

Oh. Gawd. Not them. Pleeeaaase not them.

My home town Jeep dealer is notorious and they are the biggest crooks in the state. So here I am with CT plates and baby in tow. Doesn't that just scream fresh meat to them?

Lamb to the slaughter, wounded gazelle trapped by the jackals.

The second I walked in there I heard the maniacal laughter as the cartoon dollar signs rolled in their eye sockets. The drool dripped from the corner of the service managers mouth as I did my best not to tremble.

$1000 for some stupid little electronic part (like you know, the main computer) and it wont be here until at least Monday.

(cue tears)

When I was done hyperventilating I stumbled back to the phone to call Spouse. I explained what the jackal said. Spouse did major research and discovered (gasp!) this stupid part (uhhh computer) is actually covered under warranty.

I told the jackal this and he growled fiercely at me, he put on a great show of strength until finally he turned to find another, weaker victim.

So now, aside from diagnostic charges that could put my baby through college...I am stuck.

In NJ.

Not a bad place when it is somewhere you choose to be, but when forced it is maddening.

Its just me, baby, my Dad and the squirrels who are constructing squirrel condos in the attic.

Squirrels who are causing so much damage and making so much noise that I can hear them right now through the baby monitor. I am just waiting for one to come through the ceiling.

I knew I should have brought my pellet gun with me.