Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Most species do their own evolving - just not Mothers.

I have disproved the efficiency of evolution because mothers haven't developed energy packs, nor have we grown 6 arms. Due to recent research, I would also like to add that evolution is a crock because we still have average immune systems.

Picture this: Your typical one-year-old is running around the house destroying everything in her path. The food cabinets are wide open, crackers are smooshed into every fiber of the carpet, the clothes that took you an hour to fold are hidden throughout the house and you see the baby trying to climb the entertainment center. You just stare at her hoping she will get the hint but, true to one-year-old-fashion, this means war. Now it's a game and she is in the lead because mommy feels like her head is going to explode.

This was us last night. I have been battling a horrific cold and I don't have one ounce of energy left. When we have our own boogers to wipe it's like a sensor goes off with our kids and they know they can get away with anything. So when Brinley gave me the "bring it" look and tried climbing, I let her go at first. Deep down my head was throbbing from just thinking about standing up, but I justified my laziness as a "learn for yourself" lesson. There weren't any sharp corners for her to catch on and the clothes that were once folded would provide a cushy landing. Wouldn't you know, she clears the first step and wants to keep going. There's a fine line between tough love and neglect - and we were about to cross it. So I roll over and try to get up. You know where your head is so congested you feel like you can hear every blood cell traveling around? Then the sudden change in elevation opens the floodgates of your nose but you're still too dizzy to grab a tissue, so the sleeve it is.

This is the not-so-pretty side of motherhood that no one warns you about. Its that moment when no one will be there to baby you - because there's a new baby in town. Its that time when all you want to do is curl into a ball and fall apart, but you have to pull it together because you are that superhero who needs to save the day.

Slowly but surely I make my way over to Brinley to get her down. At first she looked relieved that her superhero was coming, but as I got closer the realization that she was being naughty hit her and she (somehow successfully) climbed down and ran away. I put all my dang effort into getting to her and she just ran off. I wanted to cry.

A lot of my mommy friends are dealing with this situation too, and they all have asked the inevitable "why are mothers allowed to get sick" questions. Rest assured, we are not alone, but I have a better question to throw out there..

Why the hell doesn't this happen to Dad?!

Monday, May 7, 2012

Crutch or Cult?

Happy Monday!

Usually my monday mornings are my time to relax. I get an entire 15 minutes to sit down and drink my coffee while everyone is sleeping, because not even Brinley wakes up for Mondays. Since quitting smoking two years ago, facebook and coffee now go hand-in-hand as a substitute. It's my time to catch up on the weekends latest and greatest gossip or see what has happened in the past 2 days. Today, instead of carelessly reading, I came across a very opinionated conversation about The Crossing Church in Elk River and it inspired me to write an entire blog about it.

For those who may not know, The Crossing is a church in Minnesota that isn't like any other church you have gone to. In fact, it's called "the church for people who don't do church." It's very rocker-type from the band's singer with dreads to the modern decor that fills the walls. I'm not going to spoil the ending and tell you a play by play of services, you just need to check it out yourself. What I will tell you is I would take a wild guess and say that at LEAST 75% of the members are tatted up, have piercings, show up in mis-matched clothes, and would get the "what the heck are you doing in a church looking like THAT" look. That's because they are normal people. They aren't the prim and proper people that flock to church on Sunday morning just because the Bible says that's right to do. They walked through the church doors for two reasons. 1: They are broken. They have real life problems with real life pains and are looking for a way out of a jacked up life. 2: They used to be that person desperately looking for their way out of #1, and are thanking their saving grace.

We are not a cult. We do not go to The Crossing to see Pastor Eric. We do not worship Pastor Eric and follow every thing he tells us we should do. The Church itself won't save us, Eric won't save us, nothing on this Earth will save us, and we know that. Jesus is the only One who has promised to save us, and we never lose sight of that. The service starts out with Pastor Eric thanking everyone who rolled out of bed and got their butt to church. He welcomes everyone despite denomination, the broken, the healed, the atheists.. because afterall, this is God's house and EVERYONE is loved and welcomed. He lets us know that whatever he teaches today is just how he feels about religion and he encourages everyone to question it and take in at their own pace.

What hooked me was my very first service I attended on Easter two years ago. Pastor Eric had me in tears. From his sermon I still remember a few things he said that no other church on earth would dare say. First he said, and I quote almost word for word, that it doesn't matter what you did before. It doesn't matter how many beds you slept in, the joint you smoked last night or what junk you have in the trunk. What matters is you want to make it right with Jesus and that you change your ways. That it's never too late to apologize and start over with Jesus. He will take you in with a smile, and despite how jacked up you think you are, He will pat you on the back and completely FORGET that person you were. That is the only TRUE second chance you will get from someone without judgement. He also said that Religion is a big crock. What kind of Pastor says that? He said that all Religion is, is a theory that makes people think if they jump through the hoops (church on sunday, baptism, offering.. blah blah blah) then they will automatically be saved. None of that matters if you don't feel it. What matters is YOUR relationship with Jesus - if YOU decide you want to be baptised. I'm not going to preach about it, you get the point. And regardless of if you feel like that or not, you are welcome at our church to seek some answers. The series they're doing right now is 20 questions that he thinks Christains have. He said too many people ask questions (like they should) about Jesus and Faith and they get a "because the Bible said so." He hates that approach, and if you do too then check it out. It's online or at many campuses.

The last thing that won me over was when it was offering time and Kelly (pastors wife) told the crowd that if they are hurting for money this week either write them a note, or take a few loose bills from the bucket. But she reminds to use it for gas or groceries, not drugs or dates. This isn't a church that wants your money. This is a church that will help you in any way they possibly can, all you have to do is ask.

Long blog short, I couldn't thank The Crossing enough for relating to me, a real person. A girl who thought she had sinned too much to even start to think about forgiveness. They - being the variety of pastors, members, friends.. - accepted me and showed me ways to build my life with Jesus. Not a life with that specific church, not a life with that group. 13 hours away living in Columbus, I'm still closer than I ever have been with Jesus and I'm living a very blessed life. That's not the way cults operate and people especially shouldn't judge it before attending a service.

And to end this painfully long blog, if someone is so passionate about their church and what the church has done for them, let them be happy. If they don't invade your space and try to shove Jesus down your throat, then don't put them down by adding in your negative comments about cults and "stupid religion." One warning you should know about someone who has handed their life over to Jesus is that they are finally at peace. So don't think were trying to be a smart ass when we tell you we will pray for you. That just means we love everyone regardless and care about you. And when you tell me "Religion" is just a crutch for me, don't expect me to be offended and get a reaction. Jesus in fact is my crutch because afterall, I once was broken.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

The Tiger Who Earned Her Stripes

I don't consider myself as someone who is obsessed with how they look. I don't care if I go to the grocery store in my pj's, I don't have a meltdown if my hair isn't cooperating, and personally I think blacks/browns/blues go together perfectly. But there is always that one thing that every women fears. Dare I say it?


Don't even lie. Whether it's those couple extra lingering pounds or your cottage cheese saddlebags, every girl would change at least one thing about her body to boost her confidence at the beach. We all HATE that look from tiny girls who look like they just stepped away from their Victoria's Secret photo shoot, especially when they give us the look of "throw Shamu back in the ocean." Truth be told, Skinny Minnie goes home at the end of the day and looks in the mirror and sees something she would change too. It's not low self-esteem, it's human nature. In most cases its healthy. It motivates you to be active and to work towards something. You can still love the skin you're in but just want to tighten or tone. My biggest fear was always stretch marks.

I was okay with my less-than-flat abs, jiggly legs and non-existent rear end - as long as I didn't have stretch marks. In fact, that was my biggest fear of pregnancy. Looking back on it now I realize how selfish and ridiculous I was being but I couldn't help it. I swore by cocoa butter and it worked for the most part. I got one tiny mark by my belly button piercing and just a couple on my hips that didn't even make it to full marks, they just looked like little scars. I was pretty stoked. 

Until my C-Section. 

Most have heard of my nightmare delivery, but if you haven't all you need to know is it sucked. I got my very first contraction while cooking biscuits and gravy, and my next contraction was exactly six minutes after. After 6 hours or so of contractions that were now every 5 minutes apart, I trekked my butt into the ER only to hear "Yes they're real contractions and very steady, but you haven't dilated at all." This went on for 3 days. I finally dilated to a 4 and was admitted. About 20 hours later I was pushing for 3.5 hours before I was wheeled back for a c-section. All-in-all, I was VERYYY swollen... everywhere ... in places I didn't even know could swell, resulting in   s t r e t c h   m a r k s. I was livid that I conquered pregnancy without them and the aftermath is what screwed me. They really aren't that bad and they continue to fade everyday. I have a happy and healthy baby, so every mark was worth it. My body isn't ruined, I'm a tiger who earned her stripes. 

So that's my bikini season complaint, what's yours?

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Oh hey, remember me?

As many people know via Facebook, I have been working my tootie off to lose the rest of my baby weight. Yes, 9 months later I'm still battling the pregnancy aftermath nightmare. As much as I complain about not seeing my results, my clothes are starting to get saggy on me. On Wednesday and Saturday I go to bootcamp to see my personal trainer. I've never been pushed harder in my life. I recall a couple times actually falling over while trying to do one more squat, or praying to sweet baby Jesus the dumbbells don't fall on my face on my last rep. In between bootcamp sessions I run 3 miles at least 3 times a week at our gym. My biggest pet peeve are THOSE girls. 

How to spot THAT girl:
1. She has her hair down and not one hair is out of place. (It isn't a rats nest drooping on the top of her head with her bangs plastered to her face from sweat.)
2. She has thee cutest/matching newest line of under armor gear with her perfectly new shoes that look like they have never seen a real work-out. 
3. Little Miss Perfect walks to a machine and pumps her leg twice.. walks to the treadmill and walks for two minutes.. lays down (on a towel because heaven forbid her workout clothes get dirty) does 5 crunches - 10 on a good day! And through her really tough workout that she didn't even break a sweat from, she managed to drink an entire bottle of gatorade because she is soo tired. 
4. Then said THAT girl walks by you and gives you the look of death. Like "Oh my god look at how that girl is dressed. Look at how SWEATY she is.. she looks like that in public?"

I'm not a workout goddess by all means, but I can say that looking the part and just physically being at the gym isn't going to make the pounds melt away. If you're putting in the time, put in the work. Enough said. 

Anyways, on my longest streak of anti-blogger, Brinley has grown up so much. She now eats anything and everything she can get her hands on. Most of the time its actual food from mine or her daddy's plate, but we've had to dig many things out of her mouth (cardboard coasters, rocks, tags, toilet paper or her favorite - butt wipes - unused of course). She discovers many things now that she's been crawling for a month. And let me tell you, this baby is quick when she's on a mission! She covers some square footage. It's exciting to see her learning and growing up healthily, but it breaks my heart to see my baby girl getting so big. The cliche is so worn out that "time flies" but children put a whole new meaning to the term. I already look back on her pictures of when she was "younger" aka 3-4 months ago and say "Look at how small she was!" 

I hope it's not a decade before I'm motivated enough to sit down and blog again. I always feel so relieved afterwards, like I couldn't wait to get all this off of my chest. I know I'm kind of strange like that. Welcome to my crazy life!

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

This too shall pass.

I'm Hannah. My mom calls me a "medical mystery," Kyle calls me a "medical nightmare." Take your pick. 

My Medical Charts - long story short:

  • When I was a wee little one, I decided to relax and have a nice chug of antifreeze. I don't know the levels or how they determine this, all I know is if you're at a 12 or 13 then you're really, really sick and need very close monitoring. I was at a 17.

  •  All throughout my middle school years and into part of high school, I had horrible migraines. It got to the point where I could barely function and they would attack at random times, and it was unbearable. I specifically remember laughing at a joke with my mom and out of nowhere I felt the worst pain in my head and was crying and in a fetal position in seconds. I went through a gagillion tests and was diagnosed with Cluster Migraines. They are also known as the "Suicide Headache" because they get so unbearable people end it. The thing about clusters is each migraine is worse than the last one. Luckily, the frequency has slowed down drastically for me.

  • When I was in high school, I was sitting in Spanish class and started to have a typical ear ache. I called my mom and said I think I need to go into the doctor.I went in, got my meds, went home and went to sleep. No biggie. The next morning I woke up with an oozing, bloody and VERY swollen ear. It was so swollen that it folded over, and within a couple hours I couldn't open my mouth and the whole left side of my face/head was distorted. I went to the ER and within seconds I was admitted to the hospital and getting antibiotics through my IV and had a tube connected to my ear that constantly drained. Gross, I know. Turns out the infection grew rapidly down into my jaw and was attempting to travel to my brain. That, BY FAR, was the most painful thing that has ever happened to me. I lost 17 pounds in 3 days though :)

  • When I was 38 weeks pregnant I went for a nice stroll outside to try to work my stubborn daughter down a bit. I was out for a couple hours, and was even in shaded areas for a lot of the walk. Later that evening I got home and realized I was sunburned. I could tell I did a good number on my shoulders but lets just face it, no sunburn is ever pleasant. The next morning I woke up to a 1-inch yellow blister staring me down. My chest and shoulders were full of tiny blisters and there were 4 that were so large I had to go into the ER to get them removed. I won't go into detail about how disgusting and painful the procedure is but take it from me, it's not pretty. I had 2nd degree burns and if you see my shoulders, I really do look like I'm a burn victim to this day. 

You get it. The difference between me and a hypochondriac is I have witnesses to testify that they have heard the doctors say "huh.." or "well, this isn't typical.." My mom and I have learned to laugh about it and just accept the fact that something absolutely mind boggling will happen to me one way or the other. Just like we say, it wouldn't of been surprising if the triage nurses would have asked how my test last week was. Kyle on the other hand is terrified. He thinks were going to go bankrupt trying to cover all the medical expenses. Judging my track record I can't really blame him. Every time I have an ache or a pain he looks at me like I'm about to fall apart right before his eyes. The latest thing I'm going through is trying to pass these dang kidney stones. I've had horrible pains for weeks, so I think it's passing time. I went in yesterday for what I thought was a simple infection, but no.. can't be as easy as that. Surprise surprise.  

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Women have been trained to speak softly and carry lipstick. Those days are over.

Dear Diary, 

I worry my co-workers will be writing a bond with my name all over it. 

Yours truly, 

Crabby Pants

I'll be straight up. This whole post is probably going to be about me whining and complaining about things that have no importance. I understand people have it way worse than me, but it's my blog and I'll cry if I want to. Don't say I didn't warn you. 

Any woman who has functioning womanly parts will understand where I'm coming from. Anytime that we are having a bad day or something sets us off, we get the inevitable question, "Is it that time of month?" 

No. It's not. Thank you for that. It's even worse when it's a guy asking you. First off, they don't even know what it feels like to have these hormones, so who are they trying to preach to? The man species uses our unfortunate time of month to act like complete jerks, say things they would NEVER get away with, sit around and do absolutely nothing with themselves and do things that they KNOW will annoy the crap out of you. Then they try to defend themselves with "Someone must be getting their you-know-what." Kyle has even gotten clever and says in a calm voice, "Babe, your hormones are making you act like a b****. I know you don't feel good, but your hormones are being rude." He thinks that if he shifts the blame to the "hormones" then maybe I'll give in and say, "Oh you're right. I'm so sorry for getting mad when you told me you could put me in a cardboard box and I would still not know where I'm at. Are you hungry? Let me cook you a gourmet dinner, sugar plumpkin cuppy-up-cake."

Over my dead body, pal.

 And by temple, they mean my household.

 The Winner of the Week at the office was a man who came in to pay on a bond with a balance of $400. I don't know how to explain it, so I'll just narrate it. 

Man: "I'm paying $50 today."
Me: "Okay," writes out receipt "Have a good day."
Man: "Well wait a minute, it says here that my balance is $350."
Me: "Correct. You started at $400, paid $50, now you still owe $350."
Man: "Nooo.. I paid FIFTY DOLLARS, I only owe you $300."
Me: "If you paid me one hundred, then you would owe $300." 
Man: "That's wrong."
Me: Grabs calculator. Yes, it went that far. "$400 - $50 = $350." 
Man: "This ain't right. Whatever. I'm not arguing with you. I'll pay the extra $50 if you need it that bad." Walks out.

I'm not a mathematician, if I were tested I would probably be at a 3rd grade level. But calculators don't lie, enough said.

For my last rant, I'd like to give a big shout out to all you idiots on the road who don't understand basic traffic signals! This one especially goes out to the blonde-haired woman in the silver van. What uuuup! Yesterday, despite my very cranky baby, I was in a great mood because I was driving Jagger to the vet for a little snip-snip procedure. This means no more backing his rear end into my face or trying to hump my child. As, I'm cruising along, said silver van is at a dead stop in the right-hand turning lane. It's a busy intersection, but we had a green arrow to turn right. I gave her a few seconds in case it had just turned green, but still no movement. I could see that she's looking at the road, but just not going. I resorted to the horn. I hate honking my horn unless I'm raging because it sounds so rude. So I gave her a little beep as politely as my SUV would allow. She literally rolled down the window and flipped me the bird. WE HAD THE GREEN ARROW!! REALLY?? She totally jacked my swagger. So, when she finally decided to quit holding up traffic (and turned on the red light, not green) I pulled up next to her and gave her the cheesiest grin ever and flipped her the peace sign. 

Have a great day :)