Do You Want To Build A Snowman

I expected to like "Frozen". I didn't expect it to take my breath away.

First, it was freaking adorable. It was visually beautiful. The characters are awesome, flawed and likable. It had depth and love and pain and everything that a good movie has. The music is catchy in a good way. For the majority of the film, it was just a really good Disney movie.

And then there's this moment toward the end when they turn everything that you know about happily ever afters on its head.

The message that it sends to our young girls is just incredible. I keep thinking about how much I love that they broke the mold of fairy tales and gave us such a different moral to take with us. Life isn't only about romantic love.

If you haven't seen it yet, you aren't going to want to continue reading. Or do, but just know that it's going to ruin the ending of the movie.

Sisters. Sisters who have not seen eye to eye for most of their lives and who have endured more pain than 100 people should have to. Sure, they're royalty and they're special for like 1,000 other reasons, but they're really just sisters.

And at the end of the movie, when you're waiting for the knight on his white horse (or reindeer) to save the day because that's just what always happens, they save themselves before he gets there. Because this love story isn't about the man. THE MAN DOESN'T SAVE THE DAY. He doesn't need to. They save themselves. Girls of the world, you can rely on someone other than a man to save the day. You can rely on yourself, and, if you're lucky and strive to be genuine, you will surround yourself with people who will swoop in when you desperately need them.

This is not about man-hating or how men aren't necessary. The gender of the love interest doesn't matter. I have called on my husband to save the day many a time before, but only after I spent some time alone realizing how powerful I am without a romantic counterpart to fill my existence. It isn't about finding the man or woman. Romantic love doesn't always save the day. You don't need to be saved by a knight in shining armor. There are other amazing kinds of love in this world that fill you in a different but equally powerful way. Build real relationships with people whenever you can. Find good people to fill your life with, and don't be scared to be picky about who they are.

It isn't about the man. You are not powerless. You are more powerful than you realize. Your fairy tale doesn't begin or end with love. It begins and continues with you.

And if you don't see wonderful people around you who can bail you out when necessary, let me know. I can point you in their direction.

Thanks, Frozen.


As always, it's hip to be square (and fierce!), kids.

Yes, We Talk About You

This is a note to all of the husbands in the world.

Take note: We do talk about you with our friends. We always will. No amount of whining on your part is going to get us to stop.

You don't want us to stop talking to our friends about the things that you do or don't do, even when you irritate us. The outlet of another person who understands what it is like to be attached to someone who bugs the shit out of the most of the time is incredibly important.

You're just going to have to deal with the fact that someone else knows about your obnoxious idiosyncrasies.

Here are your options: 1) We talk to our friends about you. 2) We talk to our therapist about you, and that shit is expensive. 3) We talk to you about you all.the.time.

You think that when we talk to our friends about you, we're bad-mouthing and painting you out to be a total asshat. It may sound like that, but women have this amazing way of understanding the difference between frequent venting and real marital difficulty. We all vent. We have a physiologic need to do so.

What you're missing is that while we may run our mouths about you when you irritiate the balls off of us, we also shout from the rooftops when you do something awesome like bring home flowers, take us to a nice dinner or do the laundry without being asked.

You know what females remember more than the bitching about the fact that you don't ever want to do what we want to do? When you do something amazing that they wish their husbands would do.

We can gripe about 100 things that you do that make us crazy, but they're immediately wiped off the face of the planet when we get to brag about those other super cute things that you do.

So, you're just going to have to deal with the fact that we talk about you. It's not meant to be mean-spirited. It really just gives us common ground with other people and helps us not feel so isolated in our own occasional marital strife. It makes your life easier in the long run, I promise. But don't think for a second that we make you out to be the Big Bad Wolf. You probably seem way more like Prince Charming than you realize.

As always, it's hip to be square (and married!), kids.

Talking To Myself But Not Really

New plan. 

Actually, I think it's better than a plan. It might even be considered a life hack. 

I commute a half an hour to work every day in my car. I drive a half hour there and a half hour back. I have an hour per day in the car where I can't really be productive unless there are phone calls that I need to make. I hate texting and driving, and I'm a loudmouth against it. However, I'm a big fan of Siri while driving. I talk to my phone a lot. I jot down things using Siri while I'm driving that I need to remember when I get home, and it helps keep me organized. 

Part of the problem I run in to with keeping current with the blog is that I don't have the time. The hours get away from me, and when I do finally have a minute that I might be able to get down some thoughts, I'm so flipping tired that it's not even an option. Seriously, the level of exhaustion that sets in after dinner time is catastrophic. All my good intentions are right out the freaking window. 

So, on the way home last night, I have an idea. I started talking to Siri. Our conversations have been going on so long that she might be turning in to my Samantha. Anyway, when I got to work today, I had a free minute before I needed to really dive into things, and I was able to take the things that I said to Siri last night, and turn them into a blog post, which I then posted online. It will go live tomorrow, and I have something that didn't take any extra time out of my day but that checks another thing off my list.

I didn't really make the resolution to write more, I did want to make it a priority to go my readership up some and be more present around this silly space. I'm wasting an hour every day that I could be using to chat with Siri. I don't mind looking crazy. In fact, it's kind of my hobby. So Siri and I will hang out on the way home, and I'll go through my thoughts that she and I talked about the next day. Sounds like a good plan to me, and it chills out my "holy-shit-I-hate-that-I-spend-an-hour-per-day-doing-nothing-other-than-driving" thing. 

It's hip to be square (and mobile!), kids.

That Day

Today is that day. 

The day where I can't watch the news because if I see a story about a parent abusing their child I will want to go find them.

The day where if you're walking around with your baby bump or your kid, I hate you. 

Because it may not have been easy for you, but right now, it was easier for you then it is for me and I'm angry. 

I'm angry that bad people get to have children and mistreat them. I'm angry that teenagers get to make them on accident. I'm angry that people make them and then don't want them. I'm angry at everything. 

Appointments have been made. We need answers. This is too hard every month to continue to live through. I can't keep doing it. I feel like I'm being gutted every month. It's a monthly reminder that I'm not enough. It's a monthly reminder that other people are able to do it all the time. Look at everyone announcing kid number 70. 

Fuck all of them. 

Even though I know most are good people, I hate them anyway. No one is off limits today. 

Tomorrow will be different. 

But not today, friends. Not today. 

As always, it's hip to be square, kids.

Moment [read: LIFETIME] of Insanity

My brother walked in to my office one day and declared that he wanted a motorcycle.

My round, mop-headed, Jewish little brother decided that he wants a motorcycle.

Universe, you're a strange one.

Anywhoozie, his discussions of a motorcycle put my husband back on the motorcycle kick that he gets on once every three years or so. All of a sudden, all of the talk in my house was moto-bike, moto-bike, moto-bike.

Did I mention that I'm not a big fan?

Anyway, while they were off in Boyland, where boys go when they want ridiculous and expensive toys, I was in reality land thinking about how expensive and inconvenient it is to have your brains splattered on the side walk. 

SO NOT CONVENIENT. 

I was nervous about it, but they decided to go take a training course on how to ride. Okay, fine. 

Then they went shopping. The endorsements went on the license. They were legal to ride and buy motorcycles.

WHAT THE DEUCE? 

Then I lost my damn mind. 

My husband is particular (read: a terror) at Christmas time, and pretty much hates his presents every year. He returns everything that has been purchased for him, and if he doesn't return it, he hates it and stares at it with hate in his eyes. He is ridiculous about it. I hate Christmas every year. 

That could explain why I was in hiding for so long at the end of the year.

Beside the point.

ANYWAY, I woke up one morning and realized that I was no longer on this planet. I decided that, as a means to make sure that my husband would actually like his Christmas and not give me shit for the rest of the year about how bad it was, I WAS GOING TO BUY HIM A BIKE.

And, with a few twists and turns along the way, that's pretty much what happened.

He is now the proud owner of a Harley Davidson Rocker C that he loves like a whole lot. Little brother then bought a Harley Davidson 883C. 

And then something magical happened.

Aside from little brother laying his bike down the first time he rode it, the two of them have been out palling around and riding their bikes...

AND I'VE BEEN HOME ALONE. BY MYSELF. IN PEACE AND QUIET. WITHOUT ANYONE MAKING ME FEEL BAD FOR BEING A LONER WHO LIKES TO SIT ON THE COUCH AND WATCH TV AND UNWIND.

I worry about them when they're out, but they don't go far or very fast. They're both still learning. They have all the protective gear, and they aren't allowed on major highways yet. That's my rule, not the government's.

And while I'm worrying, I'M SITTING IN A QUIET HOUSE, EATING PRETZELS AND WATCHING SHELDON COOPER ON TV. 

I don't even care how much the damn bike costs. My sanity is PRICELESS.

As always, it's hip to be square (and a total loner), kids.

Not What I Expected

I haven't written about babymaking in a while. Maybe it's because there is nothing new to talk about. Maybe it's because this whole process is way too emotional. I don't think I expected it to be this heart wrenching and difficult when I started this blog. 

I feel that I've gotten somewhat off-track for my original intent of this Internet space, but in the process things happen that I didn't expect, and that's taking up a whole lot more of my time. By diving into this blog, I not only found a place to express my frustrations, but I made some incredible friends in the process. The friendships have taken precedence over the actual writing. I'm slightly disappointed that I haven't made a bigger effort of turning my blog into something, but if I have to sacrifice the writing for these incredible people, I'm totally okay with it.

If you told me a few years ago that I would develop really close friends from this anonymous blog, I would've believed you. In theory, no one knows who I am, so how can we develop meaningful friendships if I'm inherently lying to them about something. The truth of the matter is, the anonymity makes me more honest. Being able to hide behind a persona means that I'm not quite as worried about saying the things I actually think, and I'm not as worried as what people think about me because they don't have a face to attribute it to. If people are okay with the snarky, asinine, ridiculous things that I spout off here and still want to talk to me afterward, then they're probably good people anyway. There's this moment that I've had with most of the snark-tastic a-holes who I've met along this journey where I realize they know me better than most people who I've met in person, and I start to feel comfortable actually introducing myself. It's almost like a friendship trial period. I get to hide behind this silly Twitter  and URL while saying some truly ridiculous things on this blog. 

In other ways, this space has brought me close to people who I knew prior to its existence. Some were real friends (who I may not have talked to in a while) who have whole-heartedly supported this process since the beginning. I'm never vulnerable in front of my friends. I'm pretty much set on snarky all the time. The anonymity has helped me even with those people who know I am. I feel like they get to see a side of me that they never get to see, and that makes a big difference what they're willing to confide in me.

All in all, the things that I got out of this silly blog is totally different than my original intent. I thought it would get people to just listen to me, have thousands of readers, and become Internet famous. Well, I don't think I'm close to any of that, but the support is so incredible that I can't feel disappointed. I'd still love to have all those things. I'd still love to have my blog widely read and options for the tiniest bit of extra cash. Free stuff would be nifty, but none of that really matters. Okay. That might not entirely true. I'd be way happier with my progress on this space if I had those things to show, but those things aren't going to be there at 3 o'clock in the morning when I feel like an having an existential crisis. These crazy ladies that I've met, who supported me through more than a lot of people I've met in real life, will be just a text away. And that's a big goddamn deal. 

And yes, the baby-making continues. I've lost my optimism in about the process. We trudge through and hope for good news, while expecting nothing at all. As much as that sounds miserable, it's really not. We've got other stuff going on that keeps us busy and occupied, and this is just another element of our day-to-day. 

And when it gets overwhelming, I have some kick ass pals to lean on. 

As always, it's hip to be square, kids.

Shunt

No, thats not a dirty word, though it kind of sounds like it. In fact, it might be the most magical word I've heard in a while.

We shall see.

See, Doc's been having that walking issue. And while he's pretty good when I'm around to watch him, the rest of my family is not naturally so diligent. So I'm basically nervous all the time that he's going to fall or hurt himself or something.

First they said it was Parkinson's. Then it wasn't. Then they said it was Parkinsonism, which is apparently different. Then it wasn't.

Here's the thing: They kept saying that Parkinson's word over and over, but at no point during this whole process did he have a tremor. Isn't that, like, a big thing?

Anywhoozie, he went to yet another new doctor after something like 6 years of trying to sort out the walking thing, and we may FINALLY be on to something.

Maybe.

Right now, they're calling it Normal Pressure Hydrocephalus. What that means, I guess, is that there is fluid putting pressure on his brain and making him forget details or have trouble ambulating. The pressure has to be relieved or the problems will increase.

So now we get to the fun part: BRAIN SURGERY.

Yes, they are going to cut a small hole into Doc's very large brain and insert a straw. That straw will drain the fluid from his brain to... somewhere else, and relieve the pressure. The whole surgery takes about 45 minutes, and the recovery time is very little.

EFFING MAGIC, RIGHT?

And then supposedly, SUPPOSEDLY, after poking his brain, his feet will work again. The two seem terribly far removed to me, but hey, I'm not a doctor.

This has led to endless comments during office lunches about stabbing him in the head with the drinking straw from my soda, but we're a twisted lot. We have also considered just installing a valve on the back of his neck, but apparently that's not science. Who knew?

So, here's to hoping that all goes well and he continues to improve. We've come a long way already.

Also, while they're in there repairing his brainz, I have requested that they use a tiny fishing pole and fish out the platinum that was put in there many years ago to repair an aneurism. I need it for Cash for Gold. My running threat for him when he's sassy is that I will take his whole damn body over there and leave him. Transport would be easier for just the coils, though.

As always, it's hip to be square (and upright!), kids.

Wha??

How in blue hell have the first 2 weeks of this year gotten past me already? I swear that I was manning my station by the front door with a clipboard and guest list, yet the days managed to sneak in while I wasn't looking. 

There are a lot of things that I want to do with this blog space in the coming year, but I'm not at a point where I feel that I can commit to them with any regularity. Things are hectic, as always, but they have a different energy to them now. They don't feel as spiteful as they did at the end of last year. My attitude is certainly better. Let's be honest, that's probably the key to everything. I had every reason to be bogged down at the end of last year, but it's not an excuse for being self-absorbed and mopey. I think I just got tired of rolling with the punches. You can only get swung at so many times before you want to hit back.

So, here we go. I'll try to be a little more present in my little corner of the Internetz. Here's the hoping that there are a lot more people to write to this year, and that my hope of actually *GASP* having readers will continue to blossom. 

BRING IT, 2014.

It's still hip to be square, kids.

So Far

So far, on this first Sunday of 2014, I have:

Cleaned the grout in the kitchen and hallway

Swept the floor

Mopped the floor

Done a shit ton of laundry

Did 3/4 of a report

Finished all patient notes from last week

Billed all of last week

Cleaned the counter tops


Alright, 2014. Bring it.

As always, it's hip to be square, kiddos.


PS- My apologies for my absence from this writing space. I'm back now and just as square as ever.