SOL #8 The Beta

So my journey with Beta fish actually began when my daughter came home from a weekend with her father with a goldfish in a cup. From a fair. In Tennessee. “Donald needs a proper tank,” she proclaimed meet minutes after arriving home. We found an old fish bowl and pump, hooked it up, and off to Petco we went to purchase food.

Now if you know anything about goldfish, especially ones that come from carnivals, especially ones that have managed to survive a 6 hour car trip in a plastic cup…they don’t have a very long shelf life!

Within a few weeks (I’m surprised it made it that long), sadly Donald died.

Cue my daughter insisting on a new fish. Back to Petco we go, where the guy pulls me to the side and asks if this is as a pet or for feed for a bigger fish?!?!?!? What?!?!?! I tell him as a pet and he “recommends” we not purchase a goldfish. We leave Petco one hour later and roughly one hundred dollars poorer with 2 beta fish, 2 tanks (because God forbid they share anything), beta food, beta water additives, 2 bag of rocks (because we couldn’t agree on a color), and 2 sets of tank decor (think a pineapple house, a Squidward house, 2 “plants”, and some “tall grass”).

Fish are disgusting.
The tank had recently “gone green”.
The daughter kept reminding me at bed time to clean it (when I too was ready to go to bed).
Tonight, I finally took care of it!
The thought of coming home tomorrow and having to face it again was not something I could handle.

So my daughter and I (because she loves to “help” [read: watch and ask questions]) got to spend an extra 30 minutes together tonight (she got to stay up late to keep my company).

And while the gross fish gunk did not make me happy…spending bonus time with my daughter always does!

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SOL#7 Exhaustion

Ever droopy eyelids
X-rays at the hospital
Help me with my homework mom!
All this testing
Unable to fall asleep
Storms and wind that wake me
Try oils, try tea, try breathing exercises, try mediation
Inconsistent schedules
Overthinking instead of sleeping
Need sleep

SOL #6 Here We Go Again…Autopilot Engage!

As my day neared a close, I received a text from my husband that he was taking himself to the ER. Before you all panic like I did, he’s fine and has been released! His leg has been swelling up recently and he was worried because of a semi-recent work injury. He also spent the day at a training class with 11 of his fire family members. Their reactions to said swollen leg prompted him to go the the ER to rule out a blot clot. So when leaving work, a coworker told me I should go to the hospital. To which I rebutted, “Do I have to?” My whine was met with several yeses! To be fair none of my current coworkers know much about my life before I came here. For if they had, they would have understood my agony about this decision. I really, truly love my husband, and would honestly do anything for him. My resistance is rooted in my dislike of hospitals in general and the fact that over the course of four years (2011-2015 to be exact) I have probably spent more time in hospitals that most will ever endure in a lifetime.

Not on the patient side.

On the observer side as I sat beside my father.

On the supporter side as I sat beside my mother.

As I drove to the hospital in a trance-like daze, much like I typically did, I worked to gather my senses. And in a bit of role reversal from the previous years, I called my mom. I realize how stupid and irrational I sounded, but I couldn’t stop myself.

He drove himself to the hospital so it couldn’t be that bad, right?

It was just a stupid swollen leg.

Do I really have to go?

What if it is a blood clot?

What if it’s something worse?

I arrived at the hospital and was quickly sent back to his room, which I found empty. He text to say he was in ultrasound, and he’d be back soon. He returned and he filled me in on what they had already told him. The doctor came in and spoke with us for a bit. Typical discharge stuff, follow up with your doctor, come back if anything changes drastically, low sodium, keep it elevated, blah , blah, blah. Doc said he was going to get the discharge paperwork started.

A sigh of relief.

Nothing major and he was being released.

I quickly remembered that I was almost out of gas and told my husband I would be stopping on the way home. He replied by asking why I didn’t stop on the way there. I told him I went into my hospital autopilot mode. He shook his head and said ” I knew you would get freaked out, I almost wasn’t going to tell you I came here.”

SOL #5 Sunday Funday

2 out of every 3 Sundays start the same for us. My husband is a fireman so he works a 24 hour shift every 3 days. This means one Sunday he has slept in our bed, one Sunday he is coming home from the firehouse, and one Sunday he has just left work at 6am. It’s definitely it different lifestyle. (But that’s a whole nother post.)
For those 2 glorious Sundays that he’s home, our Sundays look very much the same.
We get to spend our morning chatting and sharing coffee. Whether at home while making breakfast for our crew, or just the two of us going out to breakfast.
It’s like our own little time, something that’s very sacred when:
your husband works a weird schedule and
you have 4 kids between the two of you with their own schedules, and
a 97 year old mother-in-law that lives with you, and
your husband’s nephew that lives in your basement apartment, and
a mother that lives next door, and
a very needy 80 pound German short hair pointer.
Sunday is our day to recoup and have all the discussions that our busy week did not allow time or energy to have.
Sunday is our day for ourselves, for family, for friends when the weather gets nicer and the pool is open.
It’s the day that feeds our souls and our bellies. We run the dishwasher an average of three times, to clean up any remaining mess, the breakfast mess, and the dinner mess.
It’s the day we realize how truly rich we are…and the day that keeps us going!
For we realize that one day…our house will be quiet and we will look back on all the little things and realize (even more that we already do) they were the big things!
So while I see numerous Sunday Funday posts on Facebook from my single or married without kids friends and they’re out enjoying life while partying and drinking it up on a Sunday…
I find I am quite content with my Sunday Funday that includes my husband and our kids and moms and nephew spending time together and enjoying each other’s company!

Enjoy your Sunday Funday how ever you choose to celebrate it!

#GiraffeWatch2017 SOL #4

Anyone else part of this ridiculousness?  In case you missed it, there’s a pregnant giraffe at Animal Adventure Park in New York state.  It’s a giraffe, a pregnant giraffe.  I have hours invested in watching the live feed cameras placed in her indoor enclosure…waiting, waiting, waiting!

I’m not really sure what the fascination is.  I’m not obsessed with giraffes. I do respect the giant, majestic creatures. They’re beautiful. When I log on to watch, I’m reminded that there are seventy thousand other people doing the same thing. There’s some sort of weird solidarity to knowing that while you are watching something alone in your own home, there are tens of thousands of other people doing the same.

So for now, I wait while nature does its thing. With a hundred thousand other people.

SOL #2 Juggling Act

Came home from work today.
Chatted with my husband for a few about our respective days.
Decided to make burgers for dinner.
(Diet Burgers as my daughter pointed out because I’m involved in a Biggest Loser Challenge…PS there’s nothing diet about the burgers I made, and that’s why I’m near the bottom…I’m basically losing at losing…but I digress!  Moving on…)

Went to the local grocery store, where I now realize I must have been quite a scene!

Walk in.
No cart or basket needed, just a few items to grab.
Onion, check!
Hamburger buns, check!
Diet Krispy Kreme choclate pies, check! (and on sale)
Deli American cheese, check!
Ooooooooh the fruit snacks my girls like are on sale, check!
Ground beef, check!
Ooooooooh the unhealthy, but very loved lunch time staple Lunchables are on sale, check!
Ah! My mom needed butter, check!
Chips, I should get chips to go with the burgers, check!
Can’t have chips without Deans French Onion Dip, check!

Let me remind you I was holding my growing piles of items with my hands.
My amazing balancing act lasted…not quite long enough!!!

In the aisle, not more than 10 feet from the checkout…I lost the butter!
As I performed a delicate, proper form squat to pick up said butter I found myself in a precarious position as items started to slide around in my overfull arms.  Next went a chocolate pie.  I placed my chips and dip on the ground, switched my grip on a few items, and was able to fully recover.  Or so I thought…

As I turned to walk the last 10 feet, I looked back.  I’m not sure why…I figure something told me I wasn’t as good as I thought…and there in the middle of the aisle…
THE CHEESE STANDS ALONE!

God Bless America!  I practically stomped back to that cheese, said a little prayer, and went swooped in for the grab!  AND….

I MADE IT!

Reaching that squeaky, dingy conveyor belt had never made me feel so successful in my life!  (And I’ve made many trips to Costco with my kids and husband in tow)

As I slowly walked to my car, with groceries in bags now (3 fairly full bags to be exact) my adventure replayed over and over in my head…and all I could do was laugh at how ridiculous I must have looked! All because I never think I need a basket…Well, maybe one of these days I’ll learn!

Until then, I did learn how to juggle at a PD last month 🙂