Category Archives: Tell All Tuesday

Tell All Tuesday: Something Strange and Organic

In June of 2010 we flew to Oregon to visit my husband’s family. While there we visited the wonderful Tilamook Cheese Factory. They really do have the best cheeses, over priced, but wow are they delicious and so is the ice cream. Yum-Yum!

In the factory there is a cute little gift shop. Mother-In-Law wanted me to have a souvenir from the trip so she purchased me a cute journal. Cow Patterned.
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It is absolutely adorable with its cow spots, and a special journal it is. No, not only because my in-laws gave it to me, but because of what it is made of.

Recycled Cow Poo!

When leaving Oregon, we flew out of PDX. As I reached the TSA scan, the agent pulled both my husband and I out of the line. Re-scanned my carry-on not once, not twice, not even three or four times, but five times, after pulling everything out and rummaging through it. Scanning both of us also, then calling a manager over and saying, “I have checked and check and rechecked, some strange organic material is showing up, but nothing is in here.” The manager checked sent it through again and asked us what we thought it might be, I had a lighthouse that I bought from Tilamook. I told them to open it and check it out. Nothing. When they were sufficiently satisfied that we were not terrorists and not hiding anything, they cleared us, threw everything back in my bag, and sent us on our way.

As we were in the air, the pilot had just announced we were over Denver,I busted out laughing. I woke my husband up. “THE COW POO JOURNAL!!! THE COW POO JOURNAL!!! That’s what was strange and organic! THE COW POO JOURNAL!!”

Tell All Tuesday: My Insides Are Shaking

I am in the waiting room of my new doctor. I must admit my insides are doing the jitter-bug. I have so much on my mind. I am having a difficult time keeping the anxiety at bay. Mother has a lot on her mind too, I told her to go ahead and shop while I waited and meet with this new doctor. I might be a couple of hours yet, no need to hold her prisoner here. So I blog and people watch. One family argues across me, something about “Deddy and Christmas.”

They were just called back, thankfully. I am ready for my appointment with my therapist this afternoon, I hope she can help me bring clarity to some of the issues that are plaguing my mind. Haunting me in my waking and my sleeping hours. Longing for peaceful assurance and help in making a correct decision, fear and trepidation of making the incorrect one is almost too much to bear. I know she will help me muddle through my emotions and help me to see the situation for what I need to see it as.

Before heading to my appointments today we stopped to see our sweet friend that is in ICU. She did not respond to us. I want her to sit up and talk in her beautiful Hispanic accent, invite me over for her delicious rice and beans. “Oh my beautiful sister.” She calls me, and with a hug, I call her the same. You never know when a prompting to call or stop by and visit might be the last time to see a person or hear their voice for a while. I am grateful that I acted on it a few weeks back and spent time with her. My prayers are that she will make a full recovery, right now it is in the Lord’s hands.

One doctor visit and emotional breakdown later…

I just asked my Mother, why can’t my life be normal? Why is my normal utter chaos? I really do believe there must be a hotline or something that announces that I am on the way, time to see what oil we can throw on the road and what tricks I need to learn.

My life is that of Willy Coyote and Road Runner. I am still going, but gosh.

This new psychiatrist that I was referred to was really nice, but they put me in with the PA on the 1st visit. Super nice man, gentle speaking grandfather type, immediately asks why I am there since I have insurance. Very confused, I explain that they are on my preferred providers and also that I have went to 2 other in network providers that did not work out, and they came highly recommended my therapist. As he looked over my list of medications, he kindly advised that I would best be cared for by my Internist, and not have so many doctors. That is when the tears could no longer be held at bay. This all began months ago when my Internist suggested that I see a Psychiatrist. Now, I felt hopeless, as if I was being turned away left to my own devices. Once I started crying I could not stop.

He quietly excused himself, that is when I noticed his PA degree on the wall. My being left to my own devices turned to frustration too. When he came back in the room he explained where he had been. He spoke to the head Psychiatrist, who has dealt with “complex cases” such as mine. He would be referring me to him. He wanted me to know he truly had compassion for my situation and was not leaving me out in the dark, but due to the other medications I am on he did not feel confidant treating me, and would have done me a “great disservice pretending he could treatment.”

I respected and admired his honestly. Grateful that he referred me to the Doctor and did not turn me away. Next week I start seeing him.

Therapy was extremely difficult today. I cried from deep, releasing some pain that I have been afraid to release. I have such a long way to go. I do not think I can even call them baby steps.
I am realizing that somewhere deep inside, I hold the pain because in holding the pain I continue to hold on to what it represents. MJ, my childhood, my Granddaddy, the Child I never had…once it heals they will be gone.

I do not initially hold the pain and anguish, but I do it. As we sat together reading and looking at MJs story, sobbing, she reminded me of the person that she was catching a glimpse of through the words and the person that he is would want me smiling and laughing. She referred to quotes that MJ’s Mom used in his book. She’s right, that is who he is, that is who we were and are.

Something about knowing MJ helped me become my best self, awoke that part of me, but something my therapist reminded me today, through my own words. It was a part of me. Only I can reclaim that part of me.

Beside me today stands another. My companion and my love. He is patiently waiting as I work through all my issues. I suppose some of it is duty and payback, as I have stood and stand beside him through trial, but it is more. It is love. We have covenanted in love with each other and God, to stand beside each other. It is not always easy. I am not always easy. Mental health, physical health, and life in general, thank goodness there is love, and chocolate.

Tell All Tuesday: Fur Mommy’s Life

It is official. I am a mom. I have been a furmom, for eight years, and loved my babies with all my heart. When you deal with infertility, your pets ARE your children.

I write this post a day late, half a sleep. Why? Because I am fur mommy!

As I previously mentioned our littlest did a number on his back when jumping down from the bed Saturday, since then he has been in alot of pain. I took him to our vet Monday. Several shots, a laser treatment, and he sent him home with prescriptions. He still cries in pain. My heart still breaks and tears up when he cries.

He whimpers being confined to his kennel, not understanding his pain nor why mom cannot comfort him now, why her touch hurts. Monday night I did not sleep a wink, keeping vigil. Trying to calm his fears. Praying to know how to help my little man.

Tuesday during the day we spent the day watch dog relaxation videos on YouTube. It seemed to calm him some, just as his little eyes would close, either a pain would shoot through him, I would move, or Roscoe would come check on him. Last night I decided to ask my sweet husband to move a mattress out to the living room floor, so I could be on Enos’ level and he would feel more comforted. We put on the dog relaxation videos. They worked for a while, but I think he was bored with them. I then decided to let him out of the crate, to sleep on the mattress with me. Eventually we both succumbed to shear exhaustion around 2:00.

This evening, after thinking, the answer might be for me to go down to my parents, so he is not trying to get to me, he seems to feel better. I have him on the bed between my husband and I. He’s on his leash shortened so he cannot get to the side of the bed. He acts much more like my little man today. I am so grateful. We will sleep in the living room a few more nights while he heals, but I am not near as worried as I was.

If I ever doubted being a mom, I cannot now. Keeping vigil with one of your sick furbabies, sacrificing comfort and sleep, this is my corner of creation that I have been blessed with. I love each of their tender spirits dearly.

Tell All Tuesday (A Day No–Two Days Late): He’s Bald, And It’s All My Fault

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In 1978 when my parents told us that we were going to have a new little brother or sister, I do not remember ever being jealous. I was so excited! I even came up with the perfect name for the little one. I remember exact place where I announced my perfect names. We going over the railroad tracks not to far from my home and I proclaimed if it is a boy name him ——- (my Daddy’s Name) and if it is a girl name her ——- (my Mother’s name). Brilliant idea of a 4 year old.

Something else I did constantly in my excitement was sing. No, not a sweet little lullaby, but a silly ditty. I asked Mother yesterday where I got it from and she was not sure if I was a TV show or what. I did a web and YouTube search, but came up empty handed.

But this is what I sang:

Hambone, hambone, chicken and gravy. Mama’s gonna have a balded-headed baby.

It is really quite a catchy tone, and I sang it over and over and over again! I am suprised that the little did not come out singing it.

So when the little fella made his grand entrance into the world BALD, I cried and cried. I knew it was my fault. My song had some how made my new baby lose his hair.

Here are big sisters looking after him, he was about three months old here, getting a little hair.
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I am happy to report that he has a nice full head of curly, well wavy hair now. I did not curse him for life. Well in the hair department, growing up with three older sisters might have some sort of curse-like effect on a boy or at the very least make him feel like he is cursed, but that is another post all together.

Tell All Tuesday: I Don’t Want To Cross That…

You have always heard we’ll cross that river when we come too it, well, I really did not want to cross it.

When the husband and I were first married he had to fly back to Oregon to finish up a few weeks of work and the move out of his apartment. I flew out there for a several days to meet his family and help pack up the U-Haul so he could be on his way HOME.

Waiting for me at the PDX with my new husband were the two cutest little girls. I had talked to them many hours on the phone and fell in love with them. They were the daughters of my heart. I was shocked how much Jenni, the oldest, looked like my middle sister. Kathy, immediately took my hand. They were cute and very sweet. My family. There were a couple of my husband’s friends there also.

I was a nerd with my step-daughters right from the start. We went to a Chinese restaurant that evening. I was so nervous still about being around my new family. Exhausted and nervous, not the best combination. Completely stuffed, but plenty of food left over, we asked for a to go box. The waiter brings a box and a bag. This is where I show my hick colors. The box was a Chinese box, I thought the bag went in the box, not visa versa, so I proceed to scrape the food in the bag. The looks the girls gave me, trying to stifle their laughter. When I felt all eyes on me I looked up at my husband and he asked what I was doing, I looked at him confused. I explained that I thought the food went in the bag and the bag in the box. The girls could not hold in their laughter then, that is when I looked up and noticed several of the wait staff looking at me funny too. I finished putting the food in the bag, and dropped int it the box. “See, it will not leak.” I am surely a country mouse, visiting the city.

A few weeks before when we were in Helen on our honeymoon we saw a spruce tree, if I remember it said something about being the largest one in Georgia. It was HUGE, I was shocked. The husband laughed, and said that it was hardly a twig. On my Oregon adventure, I understood what he meant. I imagined Jack and the Bean Stalk as I looked at these trees reaching into the heavens. We dedicated a day to going up to Seaside, and on the way we stopped that the historic World’s Largest Sitka Spruce on the Klootchy Creek. We would spend the day doing the tourist thing, and the evening I would meet the in-laws at our informal reception.

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I was amazed at its size. There were six of us, and we linked our hands and did not even reach halfway around it. It was massive. How massive was it? Well, it stood 216 feet tall, measured 56 feet in circumference and had a crown that spread 93 feet. Yes, MASSIVE!

After we hefted my jaw off of the soggy Oregon ground from beholding such a sight, we when exploring the surrounding forest and walked down to the creek. I thought Georgia red clay was slick, it has nothing on green slimy wet Oregon forest moss. I was filming everything with a video camera that had been my Uncles that died the year before.

The husband in his exploring takes us to a tree that crosses a small brook off of the creek. The girls had on flip-flops, my shoes did not have grips, they might as well been ice skates. I told him I was not comfortable with crossing the green moss-covered log. I knew I would fall, and ruin my Uncle’s camera. As persistent as I was not to, he was persistent that we would. He said to hand him the camera. I still did not want to. He kept begging and then made the sounds of a chicken. Not exactly what you want your new husband to do, and you do not want your step-daughters to think you are holding them back, nor the friends we were with. I finally, against my better judgement and succumbed to peer and spousal pressure. As I stretched to hand him the camera, my left foot slipped on the green goo sliding under the log, the rest of my body fell straight back. I felt a snap and awful pain.

Now I am covered in goo, in pain, embarrassed, mad that he didn’t listen, worried about having to hike back out of the forest. He helped me up and back to the car. We headed up the road towards Seaside. I could feel my foot swelling. Oh it hurt so bad, I tried not to focus on it. I did not want anyone to know how badly I was hurt. Pride. Isn’t that supposed to proceed before the fall, NOT after.

I wanted everyone else to go crawl around in a pig sty too so we would match. I was ashamed to get out anywhere, even to eat, but I did. We stopped to eat at the yummy fast food Mexican restaurant Taco Time. Crispy Chicken Burritos…And stuffed Tator Tots. I’ll trade you Taco Bell for Taco Time.

I was trying hard not to limp at this point, but my foot was insanely painful. Gratefully when we arrived at the beach a couple of things happened. You can drive on the beach there, so not too far to walk, and the water is ice-cold. It helped with the swelling. Every time I jumped the waves I felt my foot pop and grind, but I was bonding with the girls. That was important to me.

Leaving the beach was amusing to put it mildly. I said we could drive on the beach, apparently you are not supposed to do donuts on the beach, especially when you are doing them in sync with your friend in the car behind you like you are dancing. The blue light that comes is not a disco strobe light. The police only pulls the last car over, and luckily we were not the last car, and we were really close to the entrance to the beach. I do not recommend beach dancing in a car, unless you have $758 burning a hole in your pocket.

Out of the water my foot decided it wanted to blow up, a shoe could no longer contain my secret. When he saw my foot for the first time he was shocked and not happy that I had hidden it from him. He wanted to find the nearest ER. I refused to go because we had our reception at his parents. We only had time to get home, take showers, and head over. My step-daughters, particularly the youngest stayed right by my side. It was so endearing.

By the time we arrived at the reception I no longer had an ankle, and displaying colorful shades of purple, red, and blue. Not quite how I expected my first meeting of my in-laws to be. Laying on my Mother-in-laws couch with my foot propped up with a bag of ice on it.

We went straight to the ER after the reception. Yes, it was broken. Once back in Georgia I was supposed to follow-up with an Orthopedic, I didn’t. So every month or so for six years my foot would re-break. I finally had surgery in 2011 to repair it. They removed bone. Even now the tendon hurts from the damage, but oh well, something to live with.

What is the moral of the story? I do not think there is one. P.S. It is quite a sad PS the Spruce Tree, known as Klootchy Creek Giant, succumbed to the December 2007 windstorm. That is why I kept referring to it in the past tense.

Tell All Tuesday: Here, Use THIS Pen!

In high school one of my BFFs was a male. He sat behind me in a couple of classes. We were taking a midterm, no talking or getting out of your desk allowed, and he had the unfortunate mishap of his pencil point breaking. Oh the dilemma!

He whispered to me that his point broke and wanted to know if I had a pen or pencil he could borrow. Without looking I reached into my Mary Poppins purse grabbed the first “pen” my hand touched and handed it over my shoulder to him.

“I CANNOT WRITE WITH THAT!” He exclaimed. I pulled my hand back and realized that I was handing him a plastic unused tampon that in the shuffling had come out of the wrapper in my purse.

I do not know who turned a brighter shade of red.

Blogging With A Schedule, and A Daily Twist?

I have read on several blogs that daily schedules and themes create interest and depth to your blog. It also promotes the blogger AKA me, to deeper and wider range of thinking. WIN WIN!

As I have thought about this idea, I decided to embrace it. Of course since this is my therapy blog, as things come up that I feel I need to blog about, even if they do not fit into the daily theme, I will blog. I will also continue to participate in challenges and “Daily Prompts” because I like how they stretch my mind.

The theme schedule I created for myself is:

Mayberry Monday:

Flashback with me on Mondays to the days when TV was fun, clean, and truly family time. I might includeYoutube videos, theme songs, and who knows what. I hope to jog some of your happy memories as I sit in my parents living room watching TV, occassionally arguing with my siblings about who had to get up and turn the channel.

Tell All Tuesday:

In my 39 years of life I have done some crazy things. Tuesdays will be dedicated to those funny and sometimes not so funny situations that I have gotten myself into and gratefully survived.

Wishful Wednesday:

Hopes and dreams make dark days bearable. When you are in the depths of severe depression you do not dream for a better day, because it does not seem to be part of your reality. Wednesdays, I am going to “force” myself into a daydream and take you along on the adventure.

Take A Look Thursday:

Photography is my new hobby. It brings me moments of joy. Thursdays, I will give you a glimpse into my world as I learn photography.

Find the Good Friday:

Finding joy in inspirational and uplifting stories that I have seen in the world around me. Friday will be a day dedicated to sharing those hidden people interest stories that touch my heart, and hopefully touch yours too.

Silly Saturday:

I want to laugh. I want you to laugh. Saturdays are for laughter. It might be one of those off the wall inventions that I see, or a joke I heard, or picture I saw, but we are going to laugh together.

Songs of the Heart Sunday:

Sunday being the Sabbath is a day I will share a song or other message building my testimony and strenthened my faith in Jesus Christ.

I am excited about the themes. I hope that as I begin this new phase in my blogging adventure I will stretch myself more as a writer and heal myself as a person.

I want to encourage comments and discussion on all of my posts as I engage with my blog family and new friends waiting to be met.

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