Back To Me

Heavy heart

Yesterday at work, when I heard the news about Michael Jackson I was surprised with how it affected me.  Anyone dying, especially unexpected, is horrible and upsetting of course.  But my eyes quickly welled up with tears and felt a heavy sadness in my heart.  The King of Pop was gone.

I grew up in the '80's and his videos sparked such awe and wonder.  He was groundbreaking with is creative genius and raised the bar for those to follow.  We all wanted to move like Michael, to bust out a Thriller sequence with half as much finesse as him.  I'm not embarrassed to say I've tried to moonwalk a half a million times, without the slightest bit of progress.  Hey, there's still time.

I think what saddens me the most is how messed up his life was.  From a young age he was thrown in the spotlight, and even worked in strip clubs when he was eight.  He was abused by his father.  I think back to the young Michael in the Jackson 5 and mourn the loss of his innocence and potential to find serenity.  It just seems like he never found it. 

Because there was a settlement we will never know the truth about the accusations against him.  I want to believe in my heart that he wouldn't do that.  That he DIDN'T do that.  There are only a few people who know what really happened, and I'm just left with hope that he was innocent.

We watched all of Michael's greatest videos last night and they brought back a lot of memories, especially seeing his famous red leather jacket and fluid foot work.  He was an artist in every sense of the word and I truly hope he's now at peace. 

Coming clean

I wrote a few weeks ago about my mission to work out and live a more active lifestyle.  So many of you joined me and were on board to get on the fitness bandwagon and it was awesome.  I really appreciated your support and I'm being totally honest when I'd think of you when I didn't want to get up off the couch and Shred.  But I did anyway because I didn't want to let you down.  And it got to the point where I'd actually look forward to sweating and puffing up a storm after work.  I know, it blew my mind too.  But then. . .I got sick.

Like, horrible sick with a sinus/cold trauma that left me unable to move without fearing death.  I had a stabby headache behind my eye that felt like an ice pick was hacking away at my brains. Then when that finally subsided we moved effortlessly into a monster cold where my throat was swollen and I couldn't breathe.  Joy.  So, because I love you all while simultaneously fearing your judgment, I want you to know I have not worked out in two weeks.  And y'all, it bums me the eff out.

So I'm going to put down the Pirate's Booty treats tonight and huff and puff with Jillian not only in honor of you, but in honor of my committment to myself.  Because these jiggly bits have got to GO.  And also because I so desperately want to see this fitness routine through to the finish line, whereas the finish line equals a smokin' behind in a pair of these.

Ready, set, GO!

Weight: lifted

Something momentous has happened.  A day we knew would come of course, but euphoric just the same.

Our car is paid off.  We OWN that bad boy.

Holy geeze if I would have known that last month was my last time writing a check to GMAC I would have savored it a bit more.  Maybe taken a picture of my elation or something.  Instead, it smelled like milk hork and off it went in the mail.

Then again, maybe that is just as poetic.

So crazy happy

Originally uploaded by bryan campen.

Wee bebes

Someone I know is having a baby today and my mind pretty much looks like this:

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"

so it's hard for me to formulate sentences that resemble anything coherent.  But in the meantime, I did a guest post over at Look What Mom Found about preterm labor and bed rest.  This is obviously a topic I know a bit about and it's something I have a passionate for, as all preggos in that situation need as much help as possible.  Come on over and say hello!

Skillset

Becoming a mother brings about some amazing super powers.  And honestly, I think it's only fair considering all we have to do to keep the little darlings alive.  The ability to tell a happy-reading-a-book silence versus a danger-playing-in-the-toilet silence comes in handy multiple times a day, and sometimes an hour depending on the cosmos.

But a skill I'm not thrilled to have?  The uncanny knack for being able to tell when Theo is going to get sick.  This weekend we were busy and that threw off his sleep schedule.  So Monday when I called daycare to check on how he was doing, I was horrified to hear that Theo took a two hour hap in the morning and another two and a half hour nap in the afternoon.  Folks, that NEVER happens.  I immediately feared he was getting sick.  Bryan, daycare and my mom all assured me he was just catching up on his rest from the busy weekend and that everything was a-okay.  I had to reluctantly agree.

I was then putting on his jammies for bed when he felt warm to the touch.  Took his temp and it was 101.9--not uncommon around teething time so I dosed him with Motrin, said a prayer and put him to bed.  Cut to five o'clock in the morning when we were woken up by screaming and crying and an overall miserable boy.  I went in the nursery and felt how hot he was before I even picked him up--THAT'S how much heat he was radiating.  Temp was 103.5.  The poor little chicken was crying and fussing and so uncomfortable so we did what we could until the Motrin kicked in.  His fever went down around 7:00 and he started acting like his normal self, which was a welcomed relief.  Theo went down for another two and a half hour nap (which mama appreciated because boy howdy was I tired) and woke up in time for his doctor's appointment.  He was still warm but jolly.

Turns out it's just a virus.  OH HOW I LOVE WHEN IT'S JUST A VIRUS because that means no drugs.  Gah.  So Motrin/Tylenol/fluids/snuggles rinse repeat for us, but at least he doesn't have an ear infection or Strep.

I like being right as much as the next guy but really, couldn't I have been wrong just this once?

*******

And because I'm Pure Evil I'd like to taunt you by saying I have a super awesome amazing surprise for you in two weeks (AND I AM NOT PREGNANT) but it's almost equally as thrilling.  Okay, maybe not, but I'm yippy and squealy about it so you'll just have to fake it.

I would buy you a monkey

When I get the urge to blow serious amounts of cash but am unable to, due to lack of serious amounts of cash, I fantasize about winning $25 million dollars.  I'm sure lots of people play this game and I'm insanely curious to hear your answers.  But this time, I don't want obvious things, such as paying off all debt, getting a new car or buying a house.  I want to hear your big splurge-worthy items that would make your life immensely better that may not be fit for front page news.  I will give some of my own examples:

I would replace our mattress and Theo's crib mattress with an eco-friendly alternative that doesn't use harmful toxins or chemicals.  It pains me that we couldn't get him an organic one but someday we will, regardless of a major lotto win.

I would fly us out to California and get a professional photo session done by Tara Whitneybecause OMG her shots are the best.  I'm not a fan of the beach but that's what she's known for and I'd totally wiggle my toes in the sand for her.

Get a wicked expensive Pilates class membership.  There's a studio within walking distance from our house and it looks glorious.  Everyone in there is so long and lean.  THAT COULD BE ME!

I would welcome back high-maintenance hair.  I used to be much MUCH blonder but I had to tone it down a bit due to finances.  Well not anymore baby--standing appointments every six weeks so dark roots would be a thing of the past.

Holy chiropractor.  My back is so crooked from someone (coughTheocough) demanding to be hefted all the time, and regular adjustments would ensure I don't walk like a question mark.

So I ask you, what are your fantasy things to splurge on?  I need some more ideas!

Make A Change

As many of you might remember, Theo was born almost six weeks early and spent some time at our hospital's NICU.  As far as timing goes, we were lucky in that our hospital had just partnered with Children's Memorial and was an affiliate.  Theo got the best care possible without having to be transferred.  Our family had a very happy ending but unfortunately that's not always the case.

I am excited to be fundraising for Children's Memorial Hospital in Chicago for our radio station 101.9 The Mix with Eric and Kathy's Radiothon this September 11-12th.  They are doing something new this year since times are tough for many of us--everyone will be collecting change over the next few months as opposed to soliciting larger donations with the hope that it all adds up and doesn't pinch as much.  I have my own donation web page and will be doing this until the end of August.  If you're interested, please save your change.  It will add up and I promise you won't feel it.  Then, when you decide the time is right, click on my link and donate the amount.  My goal is to raise $300 and I know we can do it.

Every little bit can help a family who would otherwise be unable to afford treament.  We want as many fat baby Theo's out there as possible, because no family should EVER have to worry about the health of their child.

  

 "Hello? Children's Memorial?  Thank you so much for helping me and my Mama last winter.  I hear about how wonderful you are all the time."

Just trust me on this one m'kay?

I don't remember how it all started, but today over gchat K and I stumbled upon my fear of frogs.  Yes, fear of frogs and yes, as with anything there IS a story involved.

Travel back to the summer of 1996.  I was about to be a Senior in high school.  The world was my oyster!  I had the whole world on a string!  We are the world. . . .we are the children!  Oh, wait.  Sorry.  Anyway, I was in high school and was invited to go with my friend Jodi and her family to their condo in Florida for a week.  We flew in, tossed our luggage in our room and hit the beach for the evening.  By the time we got back we were tired from travel and all the humidity (side note: Florida in the summer? Not the most desirable, weather-wise I gotta say).  Their building had an exterior elevator which was set apart from the condos, which also had exterior doors.  Everything is just so outdoorsy in Florida!

I was wearing a tank top, thus leaving my broomstick teen-aged arm exposed.  We stumbled into the elevator, pushed the button, and leaned against the wall to rest.  Jodi was at the other end of the elevator across from me.

I suddenly felt something on my arm.  Since I knew I was by myself I was a wee bit puzzled.  I opened my eyes and looked down at my bicep and saw a HUGE FROG the size of my hand suctioned to my arm.  He had to weigh at least three pounds and it was clear he took his bug-eating quite seriously.  If you were to see this frog in a dark alley, you would turn around and high-tail it out of there.  While clutching your purse.

So I did what any person would do in this situation:  I started screaming.  As loud as you can possibly imagine.

Jodi snapped to attention as she must have thought I developed Turrets.  I grabbed the frog (AIEE!) and threw him (he landed safely on the button panel, so no need to contact PETA), then ran over to Jodi and buried my face in her chest and continued to scream.  And scream and scream and scream.  I literally could not stop.

We finally made it up to her floor and we ran out of the elevator as fast as we could into her condo.  Her father had heard me and seriously thought we were getting killed so he was already on his way out.  Once we (well, Jodi since I'm sure I was catatonic at this point) explained what had happened he went out to set the frog free.  But not after poking fun at the situation, of course.  Because really, if you heard screaming like that and found out it was only because of a frog?  That didn't even maul your face?  You'd have something humorous to say as well I'm sure.  But he WAS deadly.  I saw it in his EYES.

To this day I can still feel his little webbed sticky feet on my skin and it heebs me the eff out.  To overcome this trauma, in college I went out and bought frog pajama bottoms.  They are cute and friendly looking cartoon frogs with bucked teeth and it's the cheapest form of therapy I have ever had.

Upon hearing the story in its entirety K asked if she thought Mr. Frog had pajama bottoms of me to get over his fear of screaming high school girls.  Man, I certainly hope so.

Status: good

UPDATE: You guys? I'm TOTALLY working out!  I have to admit that the other day I so didn't want to but I thought about letting everyone down and I laced up my shoes and got crackin'.  Each time is easier than the time before and I always feel great afterwards.  I want to take some measurements soon so I have something to reference.  I'm not setting foot on the scale because that's not important to me--I want to get toned and healthy.  If that means I gain a few pounds of muscle then so be it.  RAWR.

Moving on.

I've been busy running around after our TODDLER, plus we had some internet issues, so I'm throwing some cute pictures at you and running away. I'll be back later.  But for now?  AWWWWWWW!