I’m Being Robbed

While I usually try to the find the humor in everything (whether appropriate or not), this is one of those times that humor escapes me as I watch a robbery take place.

Yes, I’m being robbed as we speak.  Robbed of life.  Friends.  My children.  Fun.  My hair.  The list goes on and I’m angry. As much as I’ve kept a positive attitude (ok, Maureen and my husband can tell you otherwise!) and a determination to get out of this autoimmune sewer I’ve been trapped in, right now I feel defeated.  There are no answers.  This all seems so unfair.  I’m told “we need to wait and see where your numbers go.”  Wait?  I’m supposed to wait around, benched, while the world goes on?

What’s so hard is that I can’t imagine that this is how I’m expected to “live”.  The Hashimoto roller coaster.  Did I ever mention I’m not much in to theme parks and rides? The downs come without warning, almost from one day to the next.  And the slugfest can last days or even weeks.  There’s no predicting how long before things settle and unless you’ve had a lot of luck in Vegas, you don’t dare bet on it.  It’s hard to make plans.

I’m sad and angry that my heart wants to be out in the yard playing soccer with my kids or biking through the neighborhood yet all I can do is sit, exhausted from a day of not much activity, encased in brain fog.  I’m angry that I can’t lace up my Saucony’s and hit the trails while watching the sun come up and hearing the birds chirping along the miles.  I miss my friends.  I miss being outside on sunny days smiling from ear to ear “just because”.  My hands ache and my son asked why I was having problems tying his shoes.  My hair is disappearing every day.  I can’t get in to any of my clothes.  I look like I gave up long before I really did.

Luckily I have my vivacious four-year old daughter who can’t possibly understand what’s happening to mommy and insists that I play “Duck Duck Goose” with her.  The games and chase are short.  But playing with her is a more powerful tonic today than my prescribed medications and supplements.

I am headed down yet another trail for another unproven “cure” to Hashimoto’s, straight from New Delhi, India.  We’ll see how this new venture goes.  I’ve tried many – acupuncture, a refined antibiotic protocol, gluten-free, a round of Iron infusions and of course conventional treatments that put a band-aid on the broken body but never addresses the root of the disease.

I’ll keep trekking and researching.  I’ll continue to search for the answers that I am told don’t exist.  I’ll keep playing “Duck Duck Goose”.  And every time I want to scream, “This is so unfair”,  I’ll remember the words of my then five-year old precious and very wise boy,  “You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit.”


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Art and the Pet Worm

Best friends are priceless. Best friends can give you the best gifts of all. And gifts can even sometimes be works of art meant for display in your kitchen. Even if the work of art also contains a “pet” worm.

As I picked my daughter up at school the other day, her teacher handed me a piece of paper. Blindly, I took the paper as Ms. Michelle was explaining to me that Siena’s best friend had made the drawing and “gave her a pet worm.” Confused, I looked at the paper and sure enough, there was a worm glued to a cotton ball on that piece of paper. I stopped myself before instinctively throwing it out the window in disgust which surely would have been a vision of horror for Siena. Because it’s difficult to picture such a unique, one-of-a-kind creation, I’ve attached a picture for your enjoyment below. Notice the worm sits in the clouds beneath a yellow rainbow, almost like a Disney Fairy Tale.

My daughter could not contain her excitement as she focused on getting home and hanging her new pet on the wall in the kitchen so she could “watch it as she ate her lunch.” I fought back the natural gag reflex repeatedly. Siena went on to tell me how she planned to take care of her pet worm (no name had yet been given) and bring it to bed with her each and every night! We introduced our new pet to Daddy as soon as he arrived home that evening from work. This worm was a far fetch from that puppy he’s been wanting but I have to admit, a lot easier to take care of!

Pick Your Battles. As all moms will tell you, there are battles that you have to strategically wage. I told her that worms are not allowed up stairs and that we could only keep the new family member in a Ziploc bag so that it could be protected and not get lost. It’s important to appear that everything you do is in the pet’s best interest! Thankfully, she was content with that and the battle had been won! I figured (or strongly hoped) she’d soon lose interest in a dead worm glued to a cotton ball on a plain white sheet of paper, right? No, not my 4 year old!

For a period of a few days, Suda the Worm, as it was named, stayed nearby in a Ziploc bag. Every morning and every afternoon Suda the Worm was checked and greeted. And then one day, Suda the Worm left while Siena was in school. That’s right. Suda left to be with her other family members out there in Wormville. You may know Wormville by another name, Trash.

It’s amazing how quickly Suda has been forgotten. And “un”fortunately, Siena has now moved on to her new pet – a deceased lady bug. Picture to come later!

Suda the Worm - Wall Art

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Happiness Can Be Found In The Cereal Aisle

As every mom can relate, a trip (quick intended) to the grocery store with 2 in tow can overwhelm and stress before you’re even out of the driveway.  Yesterday proved to not disappoint!

Darn the stores that “offer” kid carts in the form of race cars.  They restrict space for the needed groceries and are often difficult to maneuver around aisles and other shoppers.  And if one child is upset because his younger 4-year-old sister got to sit on the right side of the cart, even though he’d claimed it first, you quickly envision your trip to be more like being lost in the jungle, struggling to escape before the seasonal rains begin.  This is how my shopping started.  It got worse.

Before we were past the banana display, I had to gently remind my kids to keep their voices low and respect the shoppers around them.  Discipline in public can be a challenge as you need to please every one in the store.  Say something too firmly and you’re given the once-over, silently accused of child abuse.  Say nothing and you’re the slacker parent whose kids are destined for jail at the age of 13.  Of course we all know how bribes are viewed – “I’ll give you each a treat at the end of shopping IF you behave.” – your parenting skills are publicly and openly impugned.

By the time we got to the cereal aisle, my patience had been eaten away and now my 7-year-old was in tears.  Convinced his little sister didn’t love him (because she was talking louder than he and saying a word supposedly only he’s allowed to say), he straggled behind the cart (his timeout meant he could no longer ride IN the cart), heartbroken and  mumbling non-stop.  I stopped, took some deep breaths, exasperated, planning my next speech or disciplinary action.  Just then, he grabbed for a box of cereal, causing the box next to it to fall down on his foot.  That’s right, the two ton box of cereal fell 1,000 feet off the shelf and on to his foot.  Immediately, he threw himself to the floor in dramatic fashion and grabbed his foot.  “Ow!”  he began, and laid there, in the middle of the aisle, bawling, repeatedly telling all other shoppers the amount of pain he was in.  I stood there expressionless, “1. 2.  3.”  Then, laughter.  That was all I needed.  I couldn’t help myself – I could only laugh.  And hard.  There must be cameras capturing all of this, right?  My son looked up at me in confusion.  Where was his sympathy?  I continued to laugh, wiping away my own tears.

Suddenly, as if to pop up and say “April Fools!” (never mind that April Fools had come and gone 2 weeks ago), he, too, erupted in to laughter!   My daughter joined in and the three of us were harmonized right there in the cereal aisle.  The outing had been saved!

We finished our shopping and checked out, all still smiling and having fun.  Oh, and of course they were given a treat for being “good”!   As is often said, laughter is the best medicine and now I know I can look for it next to the Cheerios.

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Hello World!

Welcome to muchtoblogaboutnothing!

I’ve never been accused of being short on words.  That’s why I had to join the Blogging World- so much to say about everything and really nothing at all!  I’ll find my way and purpose eventually through these posts – maybe you can help me along the way!

I’ll start by telling you a little bit about me.  I’m a mom.  A wife.  A runner.  A sister.  I love to travel, the beach and friends.  I love to cook, bake and entertain, but I’m not Martha.  I’m passionate about politics but I promise not to make my focus on the Left vs the Right. Like many, I struggle with autoimmune issues and am desperate to find cures.

In our house, Spring starts the new soccer season for my seven year old son.  He’s a fanatic, starting “practice” in the backyard often at 6:30 in the morning. Last year’s World Cup was “played” over and over in the backyard.  Torres always won.  This year is especially exciting for me as a soccer mom as I’ll be debuting as his assistant coach.  Watching seven year olds play soccer is akin to watching a swarm of bees chase a honey pot.  And of course there are others choosing not to join the swarm but prefer to stand in the backfield kicking dirt and counting the minutes until they’re thankfully pulled for substitution.

My daughter is 4 with, as you’ve heard a gazillion times, the attitude of a 16 year old!  I’m not sure where she learned to cross her arms and storm up the stairs at the age of 2, slamming her bedroom door behind her, but I’ve decided it’s not worth trying to figure out the “where”.  I’ll just categorize it as one of those mysteries of the world!  And just when she adds a year to me in a split instance, she smiles, tells me she loves me and gives me a hug and kiss that only a mom knows.  I’m confident she’ll be what keeps me young and old at the same time! I firmly believe in being a parent first with the hope that one day I will be rewarded and we can be the best of friends when she’s older, of course!

I’m signed up for the Marine Corps Marathon this year.  I’m counting on this being the push to get me back, regularly, on the trails sporting my Sauconys.  I miss my daily runs.  I miss early morning miles that start in darkness and end as the sun comes up.  I’m hopeful that this “disease” will allow me to train and finish the marathon in a respectable time.  My journey on the Hashimoto roller coaster has changed the way I live and view life.  Often, I repeat the words my insightful seven year old taught me when he was just four, “You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit.”  Determined to limit my fits and make the best of this, I rely heavily on my best friend’s shoulder.  My best friend happens to be my sister.  Most of our chats end with her shoulder drenched and me feeling a whole lot better!  She’s had her own battles with cancer and understands most where I’m coming from.  She’s my rock!

My passion in politics means this:  I’m fiscally conservative and socially not so much.  Nuff said.

I’ve been blessed with a lot – a husband that loves to travel and we’ve been fortunate to be able to visit a lot of Europe on a fairly regular basis.  Our favorite countries are Spain and Italy and we’ve made Spain’s Costa del Sol our “second home”.  The Spanish people are amazing, the food incredible and the views celestial.  We hope to see much more of the world and the vast, many cultures in the next few years.  I especially look forward to watching our children explore those cultures and experience what awaits beyond the borders of our backyard!

I have many fantastic friends.  Friends I’ve had since I was a child and many I’ve reconnected with thanks to the brilliance of Facebook.  I’ve made friends through internet chat rooms that I’ve kept over the years.  Remember, admittedly I have a lot to say!  I realized through my struggles with infertility that I wasn’t alone and found communities of open arms to help me through.  I was thrilled to be able to be one of the helpers for the “newbies” through their journey.  It always feels good to know you’ve helped someone and gave them the hope they so desperately searched for.  The internet opened up such a world to all of us and connects people in ways never before possible and in fact, never truly or fully imagined.  It’s an exciting time for sure and I don’t want to be on the sidelines so I choose to play the game!

I hope you’ve enjoyed “meeting” me and I welcome any comments or suggestions.  I hope to be able to bring something to this blogging game that in some way helps others – either moms, runners, soccer nuts, wives or those with autoimmune diseases.  While on my 12 mile run tomorrow, I hope to create my next blog, with your input, of course!

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