Yeah Me and the Female Body...Again

So I wanted to kinda talk about the female body today, specifically mine. For those of you who have been following me you all know that I have some medical issues. I have the seizure disorder, and some other stuff going on that no one seems to be able to figure out. 

One of the things that is going on is an irregular period. This had been going on since Superman was born. At first it was a once in awhile thing and I just wrote it off as no big deal. However over the years it's gotten worse. I mean it's all over the place, where once upon a time I could set my watch to it, it's gotten to the point that I no longer can even find my watch. 

So after having my lovely period for three weeks one month I made an appointment to see the good ole doctor. We started with the usual PAP, and exam. Yeah fun! No, no it's not fun at all I was just kidding.  So we did this, and the results were just peachy keen. So she says I need to have an ultrasound done. No problem. 

Problem...insurance changed and had to find a new primary doctor. This of course means that I must start this process all over again. So I get referred to a gyno, and she wants to do a PAP again. Umm, no. You don't have my records yet, but I just had one done in like November. It was just fine. She believes me on this, but not on the pelvic exam. Guess what I get to do again? Oh yeah, strip down and knees up. 

Ya know, isn't it enough that as a woman we get our periods every month, can carry a fricken watermelon for nine months,  get completely exposed to God only knows how many people while giving birth (with Princess it was 10), whip that boobie out to feed the kid, get a PAP which involves, having a metal apparatus thingy that sort of resembles the tool to dig fence post holes but on a much smaller scale, shoved up your hoochy, have a long q-tippy thing scrape your innards, and then if that wasn't enough...have a completeish stranger shove their fingers up that there hoochy to feel around for anything abnormal, have your boobies smashed between two metal plates for a mammogram, and I'm sure I missed a whole bunch of stuff, but you get the idea. Why  is that I get the doctor who doesn't believe me, and makes me do the pole hole digger thing again? Yeppers, I hate being a woman. 

Holy crap totally forgot where I was going before going through the horrors above. Thinking, thinking...ah yes I remember, ultrasound. 

So the doctor tells me that it needs to be done two or three days after my period ends and I need to make an appointment to have it done. Umm ok, didn't we just discuss the fact that my period is all over the place and I have no idea what the hell is going on with it, and how the hell am I supposed to know when it really is going to end? So I just shut my mouth, and wish her a good day.

So today I go to make the ultrasound appointment, cuz as near as I can figure my period should technically be done by the end of the weekend. OMG I hate stupid people! This lady just about had me over the edge within a minute of talking to her. She starts out with you should have called when it started because it's easier to make the appointments that way. Well yes I can see that it would be, that is IF THE PERIOD WAS ACTING NORMAL and ran the usual seven day cycle. I explained to her that I was going there because of irregular periods and I had no way of knowing the when and how long. To which she persisted on the path of a regular cycle. I seriously think she was drugged up. She was very slow speaking, and kinda slurrish. Then again maybe she was speaking slow for me. Fuck I don't know. Then she was like how about next Monday at 9:40, I was like umm Monday doesn't really work for me since the meter guy is coming sometime between 10 an 12 to replace the water meter. (I wont even go into this crazy problem right now.) I suggested Tuesday or Wednesday. Nope not gonna work for her, and she states that my period will be over by then. Huh? I thought my period was supposed to have been done for two or three days before I had the ultrasound done? To which she replied, well yes that's correct.  At this point I gave up. Monday it is. I have no idea what the hell to do with the water meter guy, but I'm sure if I explain all this to him, he will be super understanding. 

There's "Someone" in My Kitchen!

One of the things that just makes my eyes go crossed and steam come out my ears is when "someone" decides to go into the kitchen and create stuff. Now don't get me wrong this "someone" is actually a very good creator of edible things. I love it when he creates!


I however do not like the mess that is left over. It is gigantic! It is indescribable. One can only, upon entering the kitchen, just stand there with mouth gaping wide, as you take in the destruction. I'm talking food splattered on the other side of the kitchen and on the ceiling type of disaster. 


Lately this "someone" (DH) has decided that he want's to start juicing veggies and fruit. Sweet! Way cool! I have nothing against getting healthier. I would do it too, but I just don't like the consistency. Thinking I might be the smoothie kinda girl. 


So aanyhoo, awhile ago, I went out and found a couple of juicers at the thrift store. (Yes I am a thrift store junkie) I bought them both just in case. Apparently the person who had them before was a lazy person, because it seriously took me three hours to clean these things. Glad they were so cheap or they would have been tossed within the first half hour. 


So I made the first couple of drinks for DH, I made sure I clean the stupid juicers till they shined. After all the work I already put into them I sure had better not find them looking like that again. 


Then that day came. That day when someone decided to make his own juices. It was a happy, sad day for me. Happy because I no longer had to make these these seriously huge pain in the butt drinks, sad because Somebody was in the kitchen, and I wasn't even getting a steak made for me. The mess was so not worth it. I felt seriously ripped off. 


The mess turned out to be everything I imagined, and then some. I have to say he did manage to get the equipment into the sink, however the rinsing and washing was left to Princess and I. I hate juicers! I will be just as healthy eating a whole fricken apple and not have the mess. He made about four of the drinks, and realized what a pain in the ass they were to make.  


While it's a good thing to do things to get your body healthier, sometimes doing things the old fashioned way is best. Well I guess that is if you don't want steam and my eyes going crossed you will go the clean old school way. Cuz good golly miss molly, I am bone tired of cleaning up after peoples. Cheers to you on getting healthy again!

The Missing Meat Loaf Recipe.

Awhile back, I don't know like some years ago, I was on the quest to find a Meat Loaf recipe. I had never made Meat Loaf, but only ate it. 

So I went to my go to place for just about everything in my life. The great internet. I looked high and I looked low. I studied the recipes, pictured how the ingredients would taste together, went back and forth, finally I had it narrowed down to two. Close enough, I could work with that.

So I tried the first one, not very impressed. Don't get me wrong, it made a good loaf, but it sure wasn't like mom used to make. So the next time I tried recipe number two. Even farther off the mark with that one. Was wishing I just had my mom's recipes.

Let's fast forward three years to the present. I was digging through mom's recipe boxes, and what did I find? Not one, but two of mom's Meat Loaf recipes! I had the little buggers all along! Three years ago I never thought to dig through the recipe boxes. Sigh...

So of course I made them, well I made one of them, and it was just like mom used to make! (don't figure since it was her recipe) 

My mom loved to cook. Thing is, unless she was following a recipe to the T, it usually wasn't very good. I, as her guinea pig can attest to that. She collected most of her recipes from friends, books, and who knows where else. I'm not sure if there is any in those boxes that she actually came up with, but the ones I do have are one's I grew up on. I loved most of them, and I enjoy making them for my family so they can have a bit of grandma even though she has passed. 

So today I bring you:

Mom's Sour Cream Meat Loaf

For the filling:

1/2 c. chopped onions

1 c. mushrooms

2 Tbsp. butter or margarine

1/3 c. sour cream

For the loaf:

1 1/2 lbs ground beef

2/3 c. oatmeal

1 egg

1/4 tsp. pepper

2 tsp. salt 

1tsp Worcestershire sauce

2/3 c. milk

Ok here goes the directions, this could get a bit hairy carry. 

Filling:

Take the onions and mushrooms and brown them in the butter or margarine. 

When done, add sour cream. 

Set aside

Loaf:

Mix the beef, oatmeal, egg, salt, pepper, Worcestershire, and milk together well. Will be very moist.

Place half of meat mixture in your pan

Add the filling to the top of meat mixture.

Place remaining meat mixture over the filling.

Seal pan with tin foil.

Bake in pre-heated 350 oven for 1 hour.

Let stand 5 minutes before slicing. 

Well holy crap, hope that sounds right for you alls. If you have any questions let me know, I'll try to help you the best I can. 

Time to Turn the Ship Around

I'm really having a hard time writing this without me circling back around and repeating. There is something that I need to do, but at this moment I either don't want or I don't see it.

Well it's been the week from hell for me, and I'm mentally, emotionally, physically spent. My brain is a pile of mush, and I feel like I could sleep for a month. It's not like anything major happened this last week, but I feel like this none the less.

You see the only thing that happened this week was me and DH, and not in the good way either. You see, we have a very dysfunctional relationship, and it has been this way for eight very long years. We actually aren't married but Dear Husband sounds a bit better that boyfriend so I went with it. 

About two weeks after we started going out he decided that I needed to be fixed and he was just the person to do this because of course he knew just what was wrong with me. I had other thoughts on this and in kicked my defense system. It's been running full blast for almost eight years, and I'm tired.

I should mention that things aren't as bad as they were for the first five years. Things really have improved. There are no longer objects flying threw the air (I confess this would mostly be me) police aren't getting called, the screaming has almost disappeared. 

However there are some key things that are still happening, and I'm having a very hard time dealing with it. Some of it is my fault, some (most, of course) is his fault. At this point of writing I don't feel as if I need to get into all the gritty details, but who knows maybe later I will. 



The point is that after eight years of basically stuffing it, with the exception of the occasional small eruptions, I have pretty much just buried my hurt, anger, thoughts and feelings down deep. Well that all came to a end Sunday after a week of being bombarded with all his issues that he has with me. I completely lost it yesterday. I'm talking about the, "holy shit she's possessed, head spinning, spit flying", loosing it. I am not joking here, I actually did that, ok that might be an exaggeration, but it sure felt like that is what happened.


Was I wrong in behaving like that? Yes I was, and once I found my head lying under the couch I put it back on and apologized. When he asked me what it was that he did that made me go so over the top, I couldn't give him a precise answer. It's all these little things when put together equals one HUGE problem for me. It's very frustrating to not be able to put it into words. It's just this feeling that I get deep down in my gut. An anger that starts at a simmer and rapidly goes into a volcanic explosion. Unfortunately all he has to do now is just open his mouth and the feeling starts. Even if it is just to ask me where his coffee is. 


I hate not being in control of myself. It tends to make a big mess. I'm not saying that it's all my fault, because there is a lot of bad blood going on here. A vicious cycle that neither of us seems to be able to stop. We both know it's happening, and we are both helpless to stop it. It's just us, and it's a dynamic between us that is eventually going to kill us. For me, there isn't much left. Just kinda wandering through life, for him, well I cant really speak for him.


On top of being constantly bombarded emotionally, I just spent six years being sick due to the fact that the stupid doctors refused to give me the correct medication for my seizures . I am finally starting to become well again, and things have to change. They have to change NOW. I will not spend the next eight years being like a zombie on a ship in a storm getting tossed back and forth every time a wave hits. I want to live life, now that I have the energy, and my brain is no longer in a mental fog. 


I have some issues obviously that I need to work on, like maybe quit stuffing things rather than address them or speaking my mind. Being able to discuss things that hit a sore spot with me without erecting the defensive walls faster than you can blink. These I guess would be two good ones to work on right away, and I'm thinking that they will keep me pretty busy for awhile. It's going to be tough, and I'm sure I will throw my temper tantrums. In the long run...in order for me to be happy in my life I must tackle these bad boys to the ground. Here goes nothing, wish me luck.

Racism Against Language

I came across something today that upset me a bit, ok it really upset me since I'm blogging about it. However before I get into that let me give you a bit of background here...

DH is an enrolled member, and my sons are direct decedents of the Stockbridge Munsee Community Band of Mohican Indian Tribe. Yes that is a mouth full to say, and I never get the name right and yes there still are Mohicans despite the book, Last of the Mohicans.  

We lived on his Reservation for a couple of years when we owned the restaurant, and it was an interesting time of my life. It was the first time in my life, despite growing up in a very culturally diversified area that I witnessed racism for the first time. What made it even more mind blowing for me was that it was aimed at me, or rather it was aimed at the White man, and since I'm about as White as a ghost it was aimed at me too. Don't get me wrong here, about 98% of the people don't have this attitude, and are the most caring individuals you could ever come across. I guess it was the fact that as a people who had experienced racism since the White man set foot on this land, it never occurred to me that they could give it in return. Lesson learned.

So anyhow that brings me up to the present time. I have no problem sticking up for Indians, and no I will not call them Native Americans, I refuse to cater into the bullshit that is political correctness. Just because I call them Indians doesn't mean I think anything different about them as people. They are just that...people. Back to the subject here.

DH shared a link on his FB page and when I read it I was flabbergasted. It was an article about a Menominee (for those of you who don't know, Menominee is a Tribe) 7th grader who was suspended from her basketball game over the fact that she was teaching a classmate how to say "posoh" (hello) and "ketapanen" (I love you). in Menominee which is her cultural language. It was a privet conversation, and apparently two of her teachers were so insecure with themselves that they told her coach to bench her for the game that night. They said they did this because she had a bad attitude. 

Now I don't know the exact details because I only could read what was written in the news article, maybe she was doing this while she was supposed to be doing school work, I don't know, I wasn't there. What I do know is that racism is very rampant in this area. You see DH's Reservation and the Menominee Reservation are right next door, and due to a whole lot of political crap that I wont get into, the surrounding towns and people don't like them. 

However it is never right to deny a person of their freedom of speech no matter what language it is in. The school agreed to making a public apology to the student along to the Menominee Nation. However the letter that was sent was a generic letter which didn't go into why an apology was being made. 

I find this deplorable on the schools part. By making the agreement to give a public apology they are saying they were wrong. A generic letter that doesn't state the "why" is not good enough. 

It is amazing that some Tribes are still able to carry on their traditions and languages considering that the governments plan in 1879 was to remove all traces of Indigenous traditions and languages of the Indian people with cultural genocide by making them conform to the "English" way. This effectively caused many Tribes to become non-existent, and many to lose the essence of who they are. (see #4)

DH's Tribe would be one that fell into losing who they were. The language has pretty much been lost, traditions that were particular to their Tribe are also lost. They are rising above it all today with adopting a language that is similar and from the same region as well as their traditions.

To sit there and punish a child for not only embracing her culture, but then going on to teach it to someone else is disgusting and wrong. She should instead be recognized for her efforts. After all, if we stop sharing, teaching, and learning aren't we basically killing ourselves and becoming robots who are told what to do? 


Hey you learned something new today now didn't you? You can now speak two words of Menominee.


I send you off with some words (Lunaape language) adopted by the Stockbridge-Munsee Tribe...Patamawaus K'wetchawun (God is with you).

Jumping Phones, Trolling Police, and Noses

I have a problem with breaking the screen on my phones. Usually it is me dropping the stupid phone on a rock, but yesterday I had nothing to do with it. I wasn't even touching my phone and my stubby little fingers where no where near it...I swear! The damn thing decided to jumped right out of my pocket and committed suicide after it of course found the one and only rock in sight. Figures. 


On to another topic, I'm sitting here at the puter, which is on the kitchen table (like we need the table to eat), which is facing the window, which is looking out on the alley, and I see the police are trolling for someone. Now I'm glad they are doing their job, what I'm not glad about is the fact that these idiots who are running like my yard. A lot.


Since we have the only yard that is not enclosed in a fence, the idiots who are running from the police like to run through it, or hide in it. One time there was a guy running and he had the brilliant idea to hide under my truck. I woke up to my room being lit up like a Christmas tree with flashing lights. So like any person that this happens to, I go to check it out. I get downstairs in time to see the police dog dragging some kid out from underneath my truck. Nice...and dumb. Not a very good hiding spot there mister "your light bulb isn't so bright".


Oh hell, I forgot what I was going to write about due to my little distraction. Phones! That's right, talking about jumping phones.
So now I must go buy another phone. I hate shopping for phones. There are just too many to decide from, well not really since I have to stay with my carrier, since DH just put $90 on my account. Yes we go prepaid, WAY cheaper. I just really don't want to buy another "stupid" phone. I researched the phone that just broke big time, and it seemed to be an ok one, bought it...hated it. It was the dumbest smartphone ever. It shouldn't have even been called a smartphone. Well I guess I don't have to deal with it any more, problem solved. So off I go to find me a new phone, and hell while I'm at it, I think I just might get my nose pierced. Yeppers it's going to be that kind of day.

Fast River of College

So here I sit about to write another blurp about my life, and I'm drawing a blank. Well actually not a blank, there's lots going through my head, just having trouble grabbing a thought. Sometimes I feel like I have suddenly gotten ADD, because I find it so hard to focus on one thought. They tend to be like something floating in a fast moving river. The current takes these thoughts away before I can get a grasp on one. 


Because of this I tend to just be in myself, because trying to be vocal to someone is very hard. Things tend to come out in a cluster fuck or like a record that skips all over the place. For instance, I was having trouble making that last sentence understandable, so I got up and brushed my teeth. I didn't stop trying to grab a thought while I brushed my teeth, but when I came back I just started typing and it came out right. Maybe I just need to be multi-tasking. If that's the case it will take me forever to get one of these things done. 


So today is Friday, and if Superman made it through today without any form of violence at school he will get to pick something out of his rewards bag. Hoping today is a good day for him. 


Today, Jokester takes his spelling test. Keeping my fingers crossed that he does well on it. It wasn't looking very promising this morning when I asked him how to spell the word "hope", he kept spelling it "hoke". Oh my son, you can do it!


Princess got to go visit a college yesterday, and when I picked her up, I asked if she liked it. "Oh yeah mom it was great!" "Did you like it better than Oshkosh?" (she did a two week pre-collage stint there back in 9th grade)"Way better than Oshkosh, they have sky-ways and tunnels so I don't ever have to go outside!" ??? "Um Princess, I don't think that qualifies as a good college. You know the ability to never go outside." "I know that mom, you asked me what I liked better than Oshkosh." Point taken daughter, touche. Then she kicks into high gear... "Plus it's close to the Mall of America, and there was a good selection of food places there, and the students who were telling us about the college said the community was really cool, and the dorms looked pretty good too, they have a separate dorm for the Freshman." Oh Lord we are up shit creek if this is what she is basing her decision on the college she is going to go to. "Princess, I understand the importance of food for your bottomless stomach, but I highly doubt your going to have a whole bunch of spare time to go hang out at MOA, and if you decide to go there you can still live at home and save some money on rent and oh I don't know...food. How about the classes? Do they have the one's you need? That is after all the reason your going to college." "Yeah their language classes looked pretty good." "Ok those aren't the important classes. How about the science classes you need, do they have those?" Vague answer coming..."I'm sure they do, but if they don't they are contracted with other colleges that will have the ones I need. Oh and I get a $8,000 scholarship because I'm in AP, that's a $32,000 savings. Plus all their scholarships automatically roll over the following year." Well hell's bells there is promise for this kid. Way to try and win the argument with the highlight of saving money. Now keep in mind that this kid has a very good chance that she will get into Harvard or any other esteemed college. "So Princess is this the college for you?" "It is until I go visit the next college. Then that's the one for me." Oh this is going to be a very very long process...sigh.






  

Thankful for My Problems

Sometimes I have a very hard time being thankful for what I have. I at times get so focused on all the shitty things going on that the little things just evade me. I have to make a conscious effort to stop my line of thinking and get it back on track, but sometimes...it's just so hard. 


I hate when I get into the negative mind frame, it tends to be a real downer, and I much prefer the uppers. (no I'm not a pill popper in that sense) I hate being depressed, and one of the only ways for me to get out of that funk is to kick myself in the ass, the other is to take some "happy pills" which I hate. I take enough medicine, and I would rather not add more, but occasionally it is something I have to do.


When we were living off of only $451 a month, it was really hard for me to go into the store and see all those cute baby clothes. I wanted to shop myself silly with all the clothes that would have been so adorable on my baby, but I barely had enough to buy the diapers. I would get down because I couldn't buy my kids all the cute clothes and toys that they "needed". 


Then there was the time that we were basically homeless. I mean we had a place to stay, but we weren't supposed to be there. It was a building that DH was trying to buy. It had apartments upstairs but they weren't up to code and there was no electricity. We ended up staying downstairs in what would have been a place of business. We had electricity down there, but there wasn't any heat or hot water. Neither the boiler or the water heater worked. We made a "tent" house to keep the little bit of heat we got from the electric heaters in so  we wouldn't be freezing, and heated up water old style to take baths. I HATED that time in life. 


Then we finally moved back to Minnesota and the five of us plus one dog ended up in a hotel room for 4 months. I seriously didn't have a stove for like a year and a half. I have to say I am VERY VERY thankful for stove and the house we rent now. People say that being poor is more enriching because you are so thankful for what you do have...I say bullshit. Don't get me wrong, I was very thankful for what we did have, but being that poor and down and out is a total mind fuck. It's humiliating, degrading, embarrassing, and stressful as all hell. My self esteem hit an all time low. I really struggled to find the good in those situations, and I'm happy to say we are doing better financially now.


Then there was the time when Superman was first born. This poor kid would throw-up every time he was fed. I'm not talking the spit-up that babies do. I'm talking actually throwing up. For two very long months I sat and watched my baby loose weight and cry non-stop, and nothing we did seemed to help. We tried different formulas, medicines...nothing worked.  We finally got him scheduled for x-rays on his stomach, and the night before the appointment he got really bad and we drove the fifty miles to the hospital. They were slammed and the doctor checked his vitals, and since they were ok, he sent us home as we already had the appointment the next day. The next day I drove the fifty miles again while DH stayed at home with Jokester and Princess. They took Superman into x-ray, and came out twenty minutes later telling me they were prepping him for surgery. I was devastated and scared shitless. It turned out he had Pyloric Stenosis, and in the 150 times the doctor had seen this and operated, Superman was the worse case he had ever seen. Superman improved immediately after the surgery, and has been shoveling food into his mouth non-stop since. 


So there have been many times in my life where I was totally overwhelmed with the events happening in my life, and I'm not sure exactly how I got through it all, I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. I had to stop focusing on the bad, and start looking for things to be thankful for. While the boys were babies, I may not have had the money to buy them new cute things, but they didn't go without. I may have not lived in the perfect house with the perfect conditions, but I did have a roof over my families head and food to eat. I may not have had the ability to heal Superman when he was sick, but there was a doctor who did, and he is now a typical kid with no residual health problems.  


Yeah, there is much for me to be thankful for, I just have to stop and get out of my funk to notice the good things, and remember to be thankful whether it's a good thing or a bad thing. It is after all my life, and I have the choice to wallow and sink or rise up and live.