Chronic Ama

September is a wonderful month for so many reasons! Let me tell you about a few... My daughter, son and mom (as well as many many friends) were all born in this fine month! I love celebrating my kids' birthdays! I think I overindulge them just a bit, but it is so worth it! They are just 6 days apart in September, so until they get older, they share a birthday party. We also make sure we celebrate on their actual birthday as well! I also decorate the house at the beginning of the month so we can celebrate all month long.  Why are my kids' birthdays so important to me? Well, starting with my daughter, I was told it would be very difficult for me to have kids due to my PCOS. Amazingly, within a month of being told that, I was pregnant. And with my son, I was told it was nearly impossible for me to have more kids, so we gave up trying and then about 2 months after that, I was pregnant. Both kids shared the same due date and both kids came a just a bit early. So, each y

I just learned to never search for ovarian cyst pictures after you've just eaten a big lunch. Did you know some of those things can grow hair!! Gross! Thankfully the one I had just three weeks ago wasn't any hairy trouble. It was more trouble being told to go to the ER in case I needed surgery for a cyst or possible abdominal adhesions that were causing ovarian torsion or some other misdeed. Of course they couldn't find anything at the ER that was causing me pain. And a great pain I did have for a few days! Even a follow up with my OBGYN still had a big question mark on my pain. I was, of course, a little scared and a little pissed to be having problems again, especially with no answers. Thankfully an ultrasound done last week revealed I did have a cyst burst, but it was a cyst caused by ovulation. It seems I may be in the small percent that has occasional painful ovulation.  I was supposed to follow up with the doctor this morning, but they had to cancel.

I don't know why, but I'm having a "fuck you" kind of manic moment right now. And it's barely Wednesday. Stress has already fucked up my body enough this week. I thought it had already caught up with me, but I guess that bitch is still hounding. I thought maybe my allergies would ease the fuck up, but that's not happening. I can't put my finger on it. I think I need some headphones and a quiet spot. Or maybe some more booze. Ugh, I don't know. Maybe I should just get up and start yelling about how fucking awesome I am. But I don't think I need to yell. It just pours out of me.  And now I want a new tattoo. Don't tell me mom. She'll read this on her own. And then I'll hear, "no, you don't need anymore tattoos." But truth is, "we want more, we want more!" At least I'm responsible. There are others who aren't. And I can't wait to watch them wither away and have their children follow suit

I don't really give a shit about much lately. Well, as news and politics are concerned. I'm a registered Republican, but Republicans and Democrats alike can line up to kiss my ass. Here's why... I could really give a crap about gay marriage lately. I don't care who gets married. Marriage as an institution has already been ruined by celebrities and their two second nuptials, I don't really think that two men or women that love each other can do more damage than Britney Spears. Marriage also predates current organized religious traditions. Pretty sure the Vikings had plenty of proper marriage traditions and they were far from Cristian or Catholic traditions. I'm also pretty sure that Christians held the Vikings in thought as base  pagans, yet toward the end of the Viking age, plenty converted. Whatever. If you want to get married, go for it. It's hard work. I know. If you're not up the hard work, don't do it. Same goes for having kids, though.

I think I may be the only person to admit that it is a little sad when your once curve-hugging jeans are now saggy-ass jeans. I like my big butt and I cannot lie. But, I also like the fact that since January 22nd, I have lost a little more than 6 pounds without really even trying. Yeah, you probably think I'm full of shit, but hear me out...  After my 10th anniversary party, it kinda hit me that I wasn't as healthy as I should be. I reached my goal of being freed of my medical problems, but now I was faced with keeping it that way. I still have one ovary, and thus, still have polycystic ovarian disease (PCOD) and will remain on meds for that until it's time to hit menopause, but I can still help my body be all it can be. Or something like that.  My main enemy is sugar. My PCOD causes insulin resistance, meaning that my body doesn't respond to normal insulin levels, leaving my blood sugar quite high and thus shooting me into the high risk category for type 2

So, it's Saturday here. My day to be at work and not change diapers or play super heroes. That is, unless both kids are sick and you have to take them to urgent care.  OK, well we started off with only one sick kid and then the other got on the bandwagon.  Bella's had a cough for about a week now. It wasn't getting any better, even after missing two days of school and relaxing with the humidifier on and a bottle of cough syrup ready for action. I got ready for work like any Saturday, but during breakfast, Bella coughed so hard, milk shot out of her nose. That was the last straw for me. Time to call the pediatrician for some advice. (and hoping to get her better for school on Monday) The pediatrician was of no help. I was basically told to wait 'til the afternoon and if her cough didn't go away, take her to urgent care. Or, if by tomorrow she was still coughing, urgent care was needed. I knew she's still be coughing. She still is in her room as I t

Let me start by saying that I DO NOT make New Years Resolutions. Why bother when most people make them, then break them. Plus, I'm all about action and not resolution. If I want to do something, I'm going to do it. I wish more people followed this mindset.  Moving on. Last Spring, I started walking. Then, come May, had surgery. But, by Summer I was walking and even running. My jeans had started to fit loose and I was happy. Then, come fall it was surgery time again and then came the hysterectomy (of which my belly still swells from). I spent the better part of 4 months in sweat pants and not because I was still running. But, since I made it clear to myself that I would be free of this mess come January, here it is, the last day of January and I'm one month free of shitty health. I'm not in pain. I'm not scared or sad. I have come to accept that I will have PCOD all my life and I just have to deal with it. It puts me at higher risk for diabetes, heart diseas