Swear Jar

It has been growing more and more apparent of late that the quality  of conversation around the house has dropped to a level just below the gutter.  A sailor or construction worker might feel comfortable, but certainly not many other people.  Insults and snide comments are the preferred modes of communication, heavily laced with mild (and growing stronger) expletives.  This is not uncommon when there are multiple teenagers in the house, but when I was a kid, we limited trash talk to times when our parents couldn't hear us.  And, to be quite honest, the swearing was of a made up variety.  For instance, when I was mad at my sister, it was a huge offense to call her a 'tuna'.

Mild rebukes don't seem to work and the trash talk is starting to spill out and infest the kids 'guest manners', too.  They banter with crude words in a joking manner, not realizing how low it makes them sound.

It is time for an intervention.

Hence, the Swear Jar.

I haven't hammered out all the details yet, but it will go something like this...

For ever time you swear, you contribute a quarter to the jar and place a tally mark under your name.  At the end of the week, the person with the least tallies under their name wins and gets to keep the monies in the jar!  Sort of like how we used to use the 'Free Parking' spot on the Monopoly board as a place to put all taxes and the lucky stiff who landed there won it.  Only this way, it is rewarding actual effort rather than luck.  I suggested it be only the kids in the swear jar, since I rarely swear (except, apparently when skiing), and I don't want the kids to be discouraged if mom or dad always wins the kitty.

Here is a question, though.  Should put downs (derogatory comments) also be included?  How do we police that?  Will the kids be honest even with the swearing?

We'll see.

Wish me luck!

Helena as a Senior?!

Senior class registration is in just a couple of days!  Ahhhh!  I can't believe it!

She and I spent an hour or so this afternoon hammering out her Plan A schedule, and a Plan B, just in case Plan A doesn't work out.

The Plan A involves three distance learning classes and two AP classes.  Distance learning classes are university classes that are broadcast into a classroom at the high school.  Students interact with the teacher via live feed and a microphone.  They count as both high school and college credit.  If we can swing this schedule, she will have three general ed. classes taken care of before she graduates.  The AP classes are European History and Art History.  Combined with the US History class she will also be taking, her schedule will be mostly history classes; a subject she loves.

It is the distance learning classes that make Plan A a bit tricky.  If we can't swing that, Plan B includes the two AP classes, a concurrent enrollment English class (Expository Writing, or something), and orchestra.  Concurrent enrollment is similar to distance learning in that you earn both high school and college credit for the class.  The distance learning classes in Plan A prevent her from taking the level of orchestra class she would be in.  I will be sad if she is not able to continue with her violin in her senior year, if Plan A is successful.  I am hoping she finds the desire and a way to continue with her musical studies in college.

She has fulfilled all her graduation requirements, save a few history credits (the US History class, for instance), and the electives.  Nearly everything she will be taking counts as elective. 

Here is hoping for a successful registration!

Ambitious

I am a mother.  I am an artist.  I am a teacher.

Do I really have to be more than that?!?

I try to be my best at whatever I put my hand to, so I really try to be the best teacher I can be.  I hope my kids think I am a good mother.

Why do people then think that I ought to be willing to jump in and do more stuff?!

"You are so good at art, will you do this project for me?"

"You are such a good teacher, you should go to this (insert conference, event, or meeting) and be an advocate for (insert cause here)!"

"Have you considered stepping up and being the (insert president, chair, or head of whatever they are talking about)?"

"You should fill out and apply for (grant, job, or other added workload), you'd probably get it!"

I realized not long ago that I should stop being upset when people try to push more stuff onto me and just feel the compliment behind it.

There is a natural flow of opportunities that ambitious people know how to take advantage of.  Do well in the things you are currently entrusted with and soon people will notice and start sending new challenges your way.  If you are ambitious, you grab hold of these new challenges eagerly and start climbing the ladder of success.

There is only one problem.

I am not an ambitious person.

I want to do my very best at what I have chosen to do with my life.  That is it.  Nothing more, thanks.  I don't need fame or fortune.  I like my quiet little life in my quiet little house with my (not so) quiet little family.

So, what I really need to do is perfect the polite, "No, thank you."

The Dreaded Word

I have been a Leo all my life, and proud of it!

Apparently, according to new astrological figures, I was deceived.  I am not, in fact, a Leo.

I am Cancer.

HA!  No thanks.  No offense, Trina.  I know that has been your sign all your life and you are probably as attached to it as I was to Leo.

But this post is not really about astrological signs.  After all, any of you who know me at all will know just how much I rely on the zodiac to help me chart my course in life (none at all).

It is about that dreaded word.

CANCER.

You see, I failed to report to you on my mammogram results, because they were unexpected.  At least, to me.

Now, don't go freaking out right now!  I DO NOT HAVE CANCER!!!!!  Breathe, alright?!

I got a letter from the hospital radiology department saying that there was an area on my right breast that warranted further investigation.  They had contacted my physician with the results, and  would I please come in for an ultrasound?  It was scheduled for a week later.  It was scheduled for today.

A week.

Do you know how long that is to someone with a fertile imagination?

I spent that week in a fierce internal struggle to overcome and suppress my imagination and subjugate it to the cold, calm, and comforting reason of my intellect.  I knew that this, my first mammogram, was a BASELINE.  That means that they needed to chart out any and all irregularities, no matter how benign or trivial they are. 

(Or, not so trivial...)  STOP THAT, IMAGINATION!  You've seen too many TV drama shows!

(Yes, but it is not outside the realm of possibility.  You know you'll lose all your hair in chemo.  Maybe you could cut it and make a wig of your own hair.  Or maybe you could look all cancer/rocker and sport a red Harley do-rag?)  THAT IS ENOUGH OF THAT!

(You know, your bucket list is awfully long.  I'm thinking you should get on that knitting goal and that violin playing goal now, or it'll be too late.)  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?  We have to go get goo all over our right boob and have some stranger-man-doctor look at us and you are worried about knitting and the violin?!  Your priorities are seriously messed up!

(Well, fine, but at least it is a cancer with a high rate of survival, so really, what's the big deal?  Maybe I'll finally lose those nasty pounds that won't go away... although I admit I'd rather not look all emaciated.  Oooh, I just got the most amazing idea for a painting!  It will be epic!!!  And you know, at least we have insurance to cover it.)  YOU MORON!  The insurance is through YOUR work!  How's that going to pan out if you are too sick to work?!

(Um... weren't you supposed to be suppressing me?  What's up with that?)  Oh.  Right.  Sorry.


*****

So, there you have it.  A little slice of what it's been like inside my brain for the past week.  Only multiply that exponentially and include all the agony of a wife and mother and you might get some idea.

I took a half day off work to go get goo-ed up and ogled at.  Apparently the radiologist keeps the same work hours I do.  I bet he gets paid more, though.

I know you are dying for a prognosis.  Sorry, bad choice of words.

There are four smallish tumors in my right breast.  All benign.  But not benign enough to leave completely alone, apparently, because I get to go back in 6 months and get goo-ed and ogled again.

The official term is fibroadenoma.  Scary sounding word (fibro add en oma), mild sounding results.

So, on with life.  No cancer/rocker red Harley do-rag.

And, boy, am I glad!!!

A Gimpy Leg

I know I have neglected my blog this past week.  Sorry!

I have had a rotten cold that has me sapped of all energy.  I haven't decided yet if I should tell my doctor and arrange for that gamma globulin shot.

A week and a half ago, I went to the gym with my fun new running 'shoes' to get in a good workout.

One small problem.  The gym was PACKED with the usual January resolution crowd.  It is always frustrating to those of us who are year round gym attendees to be suddenly ousted from our routine by the New Year - Valentine's Day crowd.  Believe me, by March I will have the place to myself again.

So, I settled for running on the track (which was also very crowded), but I forgot to warm up first.  The track is a much harder surface than the treadmill. 

It happened 5 laps into my run.  I felt a sudden 'pop' or 'twang' in my right calf.  Suddenly I felt incredible pain and found I couldn't even walk on it, let alone run! 

I called Helena and had her come pick me up (I always walk to the gym, no matter what the weather).  I iced it once I was home.  I hobbled around for a couple of days, alternating heat and ice on it every evening.  Bill thinks I pulled my Achilles tendon.

Fortunately, it wasn't all that serious, because the pain subsided quickly and I was able to return to light exercise on the treadmill in a week.  I am a bit gun shy now, though, and will never forget to stretch out my legs again!

Avalanche

There was no school on Monday, since it was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.  Will got up early anyways and went off with a couple of friends to spend the day skiing.  They planned to catch the ski bus back to Orem and call me to come pick them up.

I went about my lazy Monday, doing nothing noteworthy.  I did some chores, I read a book, I waited to hear from Paul (since Kirsten was in labor, delivering little Meg), I waited for Deanna to bring Tori Bug over to play (and wait for her little sister to arrive)... and I checked Facebook.

One of Helena's friends posted a comment about being stuck at Sundance.

?!?

I checked into it and discovered that an avalanche had blocked off the road below Sundance!

Sundance has a road condition hot-line.  I checked it from time to time for updates.  They ended up getting the road cleared and opened back up by 3:00 in the afternoon.  So, really, it didn't even affect the boys at all, since they caught the 4:45 bus.  In fact, they wouldn't have even known about it if I (and one of the other boys' brother) hadn't contacted them to keep them informed about it.

The only other items of note are the fact that they did manage to get on the bus this time.  Instead of making them strap the skis to the rack on the outside of the bus, the driver just let them walk right on with their skis, same as the boarders.  Will thinks it is just because it was a different driver.  I have to wonder if it is because of my complaint?  I sent UTA a scathing e-mail after the boys were denied access to the bus last time.

And, finally, I am very grateful the boys did manage to catch the bus, because the traffic in the valley was HORRENDOUS!  It took forever to get back home from the ski bus stop, so I really would have been frustrated to have to drive all the way up the canyon as well.

Happy Birthday, Little Meg!

Today, at 1:54 pm, Margaret Elisa Lydolph was born to my little sis, Kirsten, and her husband, Paul.  Little Meg weighed in at 8 lbs. 9 oz. and is 18" long.  We had Tori with us for the afternoon, and got to take her to meet her baby sister for the first time!  That is, after I fought my way through some of the worst traffic to get Will and his friends from the ski bus stop in Orem (that is a story for another post, though).

Kirsten looks FANTASTIC!!!  I remember how wiped out she was after Tori was born, both physically and emotionally.  In fact, I ended up spending the night with her in the hospital, holding newborn Tori all night just so that Kirsten could get some much needed sleep.  Tori was a fussy newborn, and the nurses kept bringing her in to Kirsten instead of letting her get some sleep.  The only way to get what everyone needed was to have someone on hand to willingly hold and rock Tori all night.  That wasn't needed for little Meg.  She is a quiet and content little newborn.  The labor and delivery were also much less traumatic.

I have some pictures on my camera, but I am too tired to mess with them right now.  Maybe later.  Sorry!

After watching Tori for a while, I realized how glad I am that my kids are so self sufficient now!  I just don't think I have the energy to raise a baby anymore.

So, Tori Bug now has Little Meg to love on and share with.  Should be loads of fun at their house!

A Bad Report Card, Stinging Hands, and Sweet Compliments

If you are thinking I am about to rant about my kids grades, think again.

I am the one with the bad report card.

Last week I went to the doctor for my first physical in 17 years.

Alright, already!  I can hear you yelling at me from here!

I know it was terribly irresponsible of me to neglect my own health for that long.  I guarantee that the kids have had every single one of their physicals and dental check ups since they were born.  It is just so easy to let mine slide.  You can stop lecturing me now, because I have, in fact, gone back to looking out for my own health. 

The doctor's office called today with the results of my blood work.  While I passed some of the tests with flying colors (you will be happy to know that my blood sugar levels are very healthy, my blood pressure is great, and so is my "good" cholesterol), I didn't do very well on other tests.

My "bad" cholesterol is absurdly high and my triglycerides are also too high.  Phooey!

So, what are triglycerides, anyways?

Click HERE if you don't know the answer and want to find out.  My triglyceride level is 265!  It is supposed to be below 150.  DRAT!  My "bad" cholesterol is 244.  Holy cow!!!  That is REALLY high!  Optimal is 100 and acceptable is 150.  So you could say that mine is very, VERY unacceptable.

The only saving grace I might just cling to is that fact that you are supposed to have the blood work done after a 12 hour fast.  I had eaten breakfast.  However, the doc said it should be fine, since breakfast for me was just one serving of Raisin Bran and non-fat milk (I get congested if I consume too many dairy fats).

The skinny on all of this is that I have to cut "bad" cholesterol out of my diet.  NOW.

Because I am now forty, I also got to experience my first mammogram this week.  All I will say about that is that it is not as bad as all the stories you have heard.  I will get those results next week.

Can't wait.

Next, the stinging hands.

I went to the gym tonight with a dual purpose.  One, to try out my new running shoes.  You know, the funky finger toes running shoes.  Two, to get to work right away on fixing those test numbers!

I LOVE MY NEW SHOES!

The reason I wanted them in the first place is that I have been suffering from heel strike pain ever since I started jogging.  The research on these things said that they resolve that problem.  The sure do!  They are like running barefoot.  Think about the last time you did that.  When you walk, you let the heel strike first.  But, if you run barefoot, you strike first with the balls of your feet and the heels take little or no pressure at all.  That is exactly what happened when I increased the speed on the treadmill.  Of course, now we'll see if I develop pain in new spots.  I know that I felt different muscles doing the work all the way up my legs and down to my toes.

It was a good workout.  I got really sweaty.  The sweat got into all the little cracks in my winter dry hands.  OUCH!  Ever get salt or lemon in a paper cut?  Now imagine that all over the backs of both of your hands.  They look raw, now.  I may just sleep with lotion-ed up mittens on my hands tonight.

And finally, the Sweet Compliments.

Before I went to the gym, Helena told me I have a great body!  She said that I have a better body than a lot of the girls at the high school.

Now, while I am thrilled that I, as a 40 year old woman, could look better than a bunch of high school girls, I can't help but feel bad for the reverse of that compliment... that lots of girls at the high school look worse than a 40 year old woman.  No matter how many compliments Helena pays me, I am not slender.

The other compliment today came from the woman on the treadmill next to me in the gym.  After my workout, she paused to ask me how I liked my shoes.  After talking about that for a minute, she told me that she was glad I had been running next to her because I had been "inspirational".

How's that for making a person feel pretty great?!?!  I'm inspirational!

And on that note, I will wish you a good night.

Same Day Surgery...Two Week Recovery

You might have noticed that the entire holiday Bill has been pretty much out of the picture.

He has given me permission to blog about this.

He has been bothered for a while by a cyst on his left testicle.  Most men have them and they are no big deal.  Unless you are a long distance, crazy mountain biking freak like Bill.  He has spent so much time in the saddle that the cyst had become a painful problem even when he wasn't in the saddle.

The doc said it should be removed.

He tried to get it done once before, but changed his mind and canceled the procedure because it stopped hurting and who really wants a doctor tinkering down there?!

But, of course, the pain free time was short lived and Bill decided to take the plunge and let the doctor operate.  He also decided that while the doc was already down there, he might as well perform a vasectomy, too.  I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Don't get me wrong.  We are done having children and have been for 14 1/2 years.  Still, a vasectomy is such a permanent procedure!  But, it was his decision and I support him in it.  Interestingly enough, a married man has to have a signed and witnessed release form from his spouse before the doctors will perform a vasectomy.

The first procedure is called a spermatocelectomy (boy, the spell check really doesn't like that word!) and requires general anesthesia.  We checked into the hospital at 1:00 in the afternoon on December 21st.  They had him in pre-op by 2:00, but didn't take him away for the procedure until 4:00!  That was really mean, I think.  They left him laying on a hospital bed in nothing but one of those breezy gowns for two hours with nothing to do but get more nervous!  I sat with him the whole time.  Helena and her friend, Megan, came to the hospital and kept texting me, wanting to know where we were, and why was it taking so long?  Bill suggested that I go out to see them, but I refused!  I was there for him, they could wait.  They ended up going back over to Megan's house to wait for me.  They wanted to come to the hospital and keep me company while I waited out the surgery.

Meanwhile, Will was hanging out with his friend, Dallan, and managed to tell Dallan's parents that Bill was having a TUMOR removed!  Oi!  That caused some concerned neighbors and took some explaining after the fact.  Ah, well.  He meant well and he didn't really know there was a difference between a cyst and a tumor.

Anyways, the time finally came for Bill to be wheeled away.  The nurse and anesthesiologist stepped back for a moment while I gave Bill a kiss goodbye.  Once he was finally in surgery, I went down to the hospital snack shop and had a fantastic bacon cheeseburger!  Helena and Megan joined me in the snack shop and had a shake.  Helena picked out an ugly little 'get well' balloon-on-a-stick, which she, Megan, and I signed with a Sharpie borrowed from the Same Day Surgery check in desk.  Lest you think I am harsh in saying the balloon was ugly, it was her intention to find the ugliest one.  I think she succeeded.  The girls left not long after that.

The rest of the wait was short.  The doctor came out to see me after his predicted hour had ended and told me that all was well.  He said a nurse would come get me in 30 minutes or so when Bill had come out of the anesthesia. 

When the nurse  brought me to Bill, he was only kind of awake.  His very first words to me in his half conscious state were "can I have a kiss?'  That made me so happy!

I won't give you the blow by blow of his recovery before being released from the hospital.  I will only say that Bill is WAY too healthy for the hospital monitors!  The heart rate monitor alarm was pretty much a constant annoyance to us and the nurses because it is set to trigger at 50 beats/min.  A normal person's resting heart rate is between 60 and 80 beats/min.  Bill's normal resting heart rate is between 40-45 beats/min.  The nurses agreed that they weren't concerned about Bill's heart rate, that sort of low heart rate is to be expected in endurance athletes.  They were just frustrated at being unable to successfully reset the monitor to a lower threshold.

He was finally released to go home.  By the time we got out of the hospital, we were on the far side of 8:00 at night.  We stopped at the pharmacy closest to the hospital for his pain meds because it was getting close to closing time for all the pharmacies in the area.  Bill was so loopy on Percocet that he was actually kind of funny in the pharmacy!  He picked out a sucker for Will's stocking that had a small but REAL scorpion embedded in the middle of it!  And a ring for Helena that was actually pretty cool.  Then, before finally going home to rest, he had me take him to our favorite restaurant, Rubio's, for dinner.

So, there you have it.  The reason Bill has not gone skiing, or sledding, or to work for that matter.  This entire holiday was a recovery period for him.  Which is why he chose to do it now, of course.  He always takes the week between Christmas and New Year's off to spend it with the family, so it was a good time to recover from surgery, too.  I would say that I can't imagine what his recovery has been like, but that is not true.  I am pretty sure it has been quite similar to my recovery after the episiotomy I was given when Helena was born.

I am so glad you are feeling better, honey!!

Holiday Indulgences and New Year Resolutions

 I really ate way too many yummy, but sinful things these past two weeks!  It has been a non-stop smorgasbord of sweetness!  Mom and Dad brought several Danish kringles to eat.  This was a traditional Christmas treat throughout my childhood.  Then I used to pick out the raisins because I thought they were gross (a feeling my son currently shares), but the rest of it is delectable!

I brought the 3 pound box of Cummings Studio Chocolates.  They are so good that I dare not even imagine how many calories they manage to pack into just one piece!  I ended up sending the last pound of it home with Mom and Dad.  It didn't take much convincing. 

There was also Deanna's home made chocolate covered toffee, a giant box of chocolate covered cherries that Trina brought, and various random chocolate oranges and other yummy goodies.  Oh.  And barrels and barrels of soda!

Oi!

I need a detox!

Now, about resolutions. 

I don't think I will make any.  Nope.  In my less humble than it should be opinion, resolutions are for weak people who make them on New Year's Day and break them by Valentine's Day.

Not me, anymore.

I am just going to continue on this lifestyle path I have decided on and been living now for many months.  If you disregard the past two weeks of debauchery (where my stomach is concerned), I have been living a simple code...

No soda until the weekend.  Drink more water.  Exercise regularly (daily) but not insanely.  Make sure to get some protein in there after a workout.  Eat one serving of everything, but don't bother counting calories.  A little treat now and then is just that, a treat.  Relax and be happy with how my body is SLOWLY becoming what I want it to be.  Meaning stronger and better able to have fun!

That might sound like a bunch of resolutions, but it really isn't.  It is just what I was already doing.  I am just going to keep on keeping on in my quest for a happy me!

Here's to life!

Just a Quick Note to My Readers...

You should know that I don't always blog in a linear fashion.  That means that there are sometimes blog posts added later, but dated earlier.  For instance, the Dec. 28 post was written on Dec. 28th.  But the Dec. 25th post was added on New Years Day, Jan. 1st.  It is still dated Dec. 25th, however, so it will appear below the 28th and in its correct spot.  That way the dates are chronologically correct when I am ready to print this blog.

So, what I am saying is make sure you scan down a bit to see if something new is below!  It will never be too far down.  I'm not usually terribly backlogged.  It's the holidays.

Cheers!

New Year's Day Skiing!

Will woke me up by banging on the front door at 9 am.  Dallan had gone off to the slopes with another friend, Wyatt, so Will came home to get ready for our family trip up the mountain.

Helena came home right at 10 am, just as she promised.

Peder called at 10:30 to cancel.  Erik wasn't coming, either.  Drat!

Peder's cancellation took the sails right out of Helena.  She didn't want to go up to the slope and try snowboarding without someone there to help her.  We offered to pay for a snowboarding lesson, but she just didn't want to do it anymore.  So that left just Will and me.

So, off we went!

 Here is Will heading off to his first run down the mountain.  I went straight to the bunny hill.  There was TONS more snow than on Christmas Day, and it was powder!  You can't tell from looking at these photos, but we were standing on more than five feet of snow.  I finally realized just how icy the conditions had been on Christmas Day.  Icy snow makes a scraping noise.  Powdery snow makes a creaking sound.

 Look at how gorgeous it was on the mountain!!!  And yes, very cold.  The high for the day was 17 degrees, but up there it was more like 10 degrees.  It looks so serene, but it was actually pretty noisy.  There were lots of people there this time.  All the talking of people and creaking of snow was quite loud.

 After practicing on the bunny hill for about 20 minutes, I was ready to buy a lift pass and try the mountain again.  I just couldn't let that 'walk of shame' on Christmas Day be the end of it!

Here is a secret about snow.  Every different type of snow makes for different skiing, too.  On the icy slopes of Christmas Day, I had very little trouble steering the skis, but a lot of trouble stopping them.  On the powder snow of New Year's Day, I struggled with steering them, but stopping was a bit too easy!  I toppled myself several times when the skis quit moving before my upper body did!

That meant that I had several great opportunities to practice standing back up on the skis without resorting to popping myself out of the bindings.  I managed it three times!  I am chuckling to myself because I feel so proud of myself for being able to stand up!

This time on the lift, I was able to enjoy the ride a bit, and even took a video of Will and I going up.  I had to take my right hand out of my glove to do that and even a couple of minutes out in the raw air was enough to make my hand HURT with the cold!  By then I had the balaclava on covering my face.

I exited the lift gracefully this time and approached the first run with only a little nerves.  That first run was not bad!  There were a couple of sections that felt too steep for me, but the swear words only came out to play twice.  Will was so patient again and showed me all the easiest slopes down.

It took me a LONG time to work my way down the slopes, but the fact is, I MADE IT!  I didn't give up.  When we got back to the lifts, there wasn't enough time for me to creep down the mountain again before we had to leave.  I had to return my rental skis to the sports store in town before 6 pm.  So I went to the cafe to thaw out my fingers and toes while Will rode the lift to the top (higher than he went with me) and skied back down.

We both had a great time!  I think it is time for me to look for some skis online.

 Will took this shot of me on our way back down the mountain.

 We were in time to see some really spectacular colors on the mountain as the sun was setting!

Happy New Year, everyone!