Chronic Illness blows.
For me, that means Multiple Sclerosis.
But recently things have been getting better.
By recent I mean in the last six months.
I’m surprised everyday that I’m feeling better.
I’m more suprised when feeling better lets me realize just how bad I felt.
There are people in my life who have no idea how bad it sucks to feel like crap on a daily basis.
They don’t care to understand and they don’t quite believe that just because someone doesn’t look like they have one foot on a banana peel and the other in the grave, they might still feel like crap. For real.
But today, when my mom asked if I needed her to come tomorrow, I could say “No thanks,” without worrying if declining the help would mean the three days after would be kicking my ass.
I can’t tell you how great that feels.
To be able to handle my own life.
I can’t tell you how great it feels to be there for real, not because I’m forcing myself to be positive when my body hates me.
Not because I’m saying no to help because I’m crushed by what others are thinking about me and my unseen ailment.
Today felt great and I can only hope this is a trend…Sorry for the depressing post…my realization was actually quite happy…

Hi there,

I’m in rainy Pittsburgh which normally I don’t mind…I love Pittsburgh’s mostly dreary weather…I especially love running in the rain. I don’t know why, but I always have. Though, today, I shorted out my walkman…It was still good.

I love the rain about ninety percent of the time. But without a doubt in about mid Feb. when the rain is in the form of snow and we haven’t been out of the house in ages, I’ll want to toss myself off the Hulton bridge into the half frozen Allegheny River.

But the last few days have been nice not forcing everyone to get out of the house to do stuff when there’s so much crap for me to do in the house. After two years in our new house, I’m still organizing, but this time I really kicked ass in my closet and it feels great.

Remarkably Jake and Beth played both days without a beatdown (on each other) or temper tantrum or anything remotely horrifying. This is unusual…I’ll refer to these as my “old fashioned mother days,” when I didn’t worry about entertaining the kids, teaching them, or whether they’ve been stimulated enough…like the women who had to cook, clean, and do it again every three hours did many years ago. It’s amazing how much you can done when you ignore your children. Hehehehe…

Sorry for the directionless, humorless rambling.

This is an incredibly helpful book written by a friend of mine, Judy. And though, I think you should all buy it, I decided (with her permission) to pull out chunks of it each month to highlight and offer as useful information for managing your life…Because mine is already so manageable…hehehehe.

It is divided into months so we’ll be hopping right into October. Also, I’ll offer up some of the important stuff from the “Getting Started” section each month.

So, here goes…

Judy suggests that a useful aid when using her book is getting yourself a “Frantic Journal.” This can be anything, from a spiral notebook to a beautiful bound jobbie from the book store, to my favorite (which is not in the book) a legal pad.

Anyway, there are many opportunities to write lists and think about things that need to be done and your Frantic Journal is the place to do it!

One of the most useful things I’ve read in the Getting Started section is on page 7…The section called “Put Things Where They Land.” It says, “You’ve heard the cliche a place for everything and everything in its place. And that should be your goal. But in order to be sensibly organized, you want that chosen ‘place’ to be convienient and easy to remember.”

This is so simple, yet I’ve gone wrong with it so many times. Judy gives the example of reading somewhere that it says “put your keys in the kitchen on a cute hanging thing…” but you never make it to the kitchen with your darn keys…put the cute hanging thing where you naturally drop them…duh!

So, Housespouses, get your Frantic Journal and make a note to “Put Things Where They Land,” and let me know how it goes this month!

On to the idea specific to October!
One of the things Judy and her co-author do so well in this book (as you’ll come to see) is they offer doable ways to really plan out and execute all the little tasks that get away from us, normally.

Anyway, in October, they have me already thinking about Christmas Cards…don’t panic….smart move, actually.

Judy suggests creating a “Greetings Box.” (pg. 270) No one loves boxes as much as me so right away this appeals…
“Create a greetings box in which you’ll store everything from holiday cards and your master list to address labels, family photos, stickers, envelopes, gel pens, and stamps.”
Judy suggests putting these items in a plastic box and taking it in the car, to doctor’s appointments, the DMV, anywhere you have to sit and wait and wait and wait…your addresses, at least, will be done in no time!

Now don’t fret, my anal retentive perfectionist friends…this book is about getting it together over time…even if you just get this together to use next year, you’ll be happy! This has to be right up Mimi’s isle…I know it.

Anyway, if you have any suggestions to add, feel free to share them…and let me know what’s working for you!

I finally got the wallet and will put it in the mail by tomorrow!!! Sorry for the delay, but you’re gonna love it!

And I can’t stand it. I’ve never liked this holiday. Except maybe when I was ten and my best friend Julia and I dressed as an ugly old couple…I remember making those costumes was fun.

But once I got to the age where dressing up for Halloween meant dressing,–or barely dressing, like a cheerleader, a nurse, a sixties chick–I decided I hated the pressure of it all. And I had a good body at the time, I promise that’s true, but no matter what the “costume,” was supposed to be, I ended up looking like a hooker of some sort.

No gasping. I know all you chicks did it too. At least once. And it’s still going on.

One of my roommates from college hated Halloween more than me. Her much older siblings had dressed her as a Conehead, just slightly before EVERYONE knew what they were and the reaction as they went door to door, scarred her for life. She never did the hooker chick thing.

In recent years, we’ve been invited to a Halloween party by the nicest couple in the world. They love Halloween, have contests and really go all out…but my husband and I either skip the party or have arrived after the Pitt game dressed as Pitt fans…They must secretly hate us…

This year, we might go. And I’ve actually thought of a kick-ass costume. Kirsti Alley –Mid Jennie Craig–weight loss…Yes that’s right I’ve been going to Jennie Craig and it does work, I have to say. But I’m thinking I could emulate one of the horrible outfits she was photographed in and carry around a box of Jennie cuisine…I’ll top it off with a “Hello, my name is Kirsti” name tag. That’s it. Sound good?

Hey there fellow housespouses and houseparents….I’ve been a bad blogger, for sure…but I’m here now.

Sitting in a coffee house that has long been said to be a hangout for the mob. Funny because everytime I’ve been in here its been stuffed full of stuffy professors and ass-kissing ph.d. students.

But lo and behold, today, I’m here, blogging away and what do I hear? A conversation between a writer and two mobsters!! Now that’s a conversation…Bored housewife was blogging about not being able to find a conversation to overhear for a class assignment…well this one would do just fine.

I don’t want to put my life in peril, but I heard the words “break his femur in three,” “the hit from hell,” and “a murder the pope himself might sanction!” Let’s hope the owners aren’t reading this….if I die, you know where to look first…hehehe. I feel very stealth, housewife, sitting here in red V-neck, black velour long skirt, skinny flats and beijo bag…as harmless a picture as can be…yet…I’m listening.

Enough of this crap…I have a Halloween Post to do.

On this day, at 9:00 pm, four years ago, I was well into the premature birth of our first child, Jacob. That was a shocker. Nine weeks before his due date, a few hours from my stepping on a plane to go to this tiny town on the edge of Texas for work…my water broke.

At the time of the hospital tour, the one we took two weeks before his birth, we ambled through the NICU, glancing around at the strange world, never thinking that we’d be sitting there one day, watching every breath our baby took.

It wasn’t a cold kind of disconnectedness, it was simply that naive, state of mind that things like that just didn’t happen all that often. After all, that what to expect when having a baby, the book women can’t manage two seconds of their pregnancies without, suggested not reading certain chapters unless thrust into the position of needing to. Upon being thrust, it’s too little too late.

By the time I was staring at my teeny Jake through plastic, and tubing protruding from areas of his body that aren’t even orifices, it was too late to understand what was happening. All I did was feel. Wonderful and crappy at the same time.

There are endless and varied reasons a baby might end up in the NICU and reading up on all of them would be horrible and psychotic, but the mothers I know who were prepared to deal with the NICU handled it so much better than someone like me. And the second time, with Beth, it was easier in some ways.

Luckily, Jake has grown up beautifully, though not always easily. He came out rearing to go and hasn’t stopped since. With the last push after the doctor said he was going to be in “trouble,” I pushed so hard he flew out and landed on the little extender thingy at the end of the bed. That’s what I love about him. The boy has shit to do. He’s got a plan. He’s got a schedule. Some kind of freaky internal need to pursue life like a forty year old with an arm’s length “to-do,” list imprinted on his brain. But he’s smiling all the way. Except when his schedule is compromised…breached…or thrown asunder by mean old me.

There could have been so much wrong with him, the list was long, but beyond his immature nervous system (not an official diagnosis–other than the child development specialist’s opinion–and ours) and being inconsolable first six months of life (if he was awake, he was screaming), he has moved along as though he was born on time.

Could I feel more gratitude? Luckier? Happier? More in love? No. He’s absolutely perfect with all the requisite human imperfections. And at the end of each day I’m in awe of what I’ve learned about life, from him.

I’ll get some pictures up just as soon as I learn how to put them up!!!!

It’s almost time to leave Tucson…and it was the best trip ever. My sister and I had so much fun hanging out, shopping, spa daying it up…and sleeping. Despite my never feeling rested, knowing I got all the sleep I did, helps tremendously.

I miss Jake and Beth so much and can’t wait to see them. Next time, they’ll have to come visit Pablo…the easiest baby in the world…Thanks BEth and Jon for everything!!!! Love you guys!!! Talk to you soon.

Okay, I have some scattered thoughts and then a list…

1. no matter how many nights in a row I get eight uninterrupted hours of sleep, I will never feel rested–it’s the damn MS. Knowing this is good and bad. It’s good because I won’t have to feel like I’m missing much when I don’t get sleep at home. It’s bad because I won’t ever know what it feels like to feel good…when’s that MS cure coming?

2. no matter what clothes item or piece of artwork or furniture I look at and fall in love with, I can guarantee it will be way more costly than I can afford. Way more costly. And I’m not afraid to spend, mind you…

3. Everyone should get a vacation from their lives every once in a while…without exception. Is that a statement from an educated middle class woman or what?

4. Haircuts…without a doubt the best ones I’ve ever gotten have been in places to which I can never return…at least not on a regular basis. The jury is in, and my hair looks great even when I do it myself. But the creator of the do is here. I won’t be for much longer. The best haircuts ever:
a. my first trip to CA–one of Vidal Sasson’s personal assitants gave me the best cut ever…
b. the place in Virginia–Tyson’s Corner–I used to go to when I taught school in MD…

That’s it…nothing around me suits to the extent that these stylistes did…sigh, like I have time to find someone in Pittsburgh.

5. I can’t remember what my other observations are so I’ll edit this later…onto the list I’d like you all to contribute to if you can…

Okay, exercising in unique or special places…that sounds bizarre, I know, but there are places where I love to run:
a. Shadyside, Squirrel Hill, Oakland route in Pittsuburgh that was once known as the “Crew Route,” at the University of Pittsburgh. NOt to be confused with the “Wrestler Route,” which would take the lives of even those runners like the old me who would run a couple times a day, many many miles…
b. Anywhere in California…this because I spent two summers in my younger years, traveling the coast, running like a crazy person, sleeping on the beach…bank account dwindling down to nothing…perhaps the whole, “living wild and crazy allure” lent itself to my romanticized memories of running there.
c. Lake Tahoe–same trip–we felt so damn in shape running so high above sea level…yeah, it was good.
d. Tucson…the moutain views…not being in them like in Tahoe, but seeing them…

Anyway, I barely qualify as a runner anymore, but being here in Tucson, has re-energized my running desire–I guess I must be feeling a little more rested–and made me think of all the places I love to run.

Just a note–the Shadyside-Squirrel Hill-Oakland route is so desirable a route that my good friend who lives in Charleston visited me in Oakmont last year (about twenty minutes from Shadyside) she went into town for a massage, bagged that, drove back to my house for her running stuff and relived her Ph.D. running days. Kate’s a little odd, but I’m telling you running there is the best…

SO, SO, SOOO…..

List for me your favorite workout venues…nothing is too odd. Please even if there’s only one–give it to me people…

Things went great today. Ms. Shiela is right, Tucson is wonderful. I’ve been here several times before, but not in my sister’s newest house.

I love walking/running here. It seems like no matter where she lives, when I set out for a walk, the mountains are right in front of me. The architecture (sp?) is stunning. So different than back east, but it fits the desert perfectly.

I did it. I got my haircut! Beth set up a spa day (yes the best sister ever) and I was only going to trim my hair, but the stylist said she could donate it to “Locks of Love,” the organization that makes wigs for cancer sufferers. That was all I needed to hear–my hair would live on in some productive manner–I’m an organ donor for God Sakes. The least I could do was donate my hair while still alive and kicking.

It’s a great haircut, but of course the jury is out until I actually have to “style” it myself. I love all the jargon associated with hair “I’m going to ‘overdirection’ it so that it has height…” Things like that crack me up and I wish so much I could have my own hair dresser in my home…not to do anything fancy, just to be there and do a quick overdirectional manuever to ensure I don’t look like a total ass when I leave. Oh, yeah, looking bad hasn’t bothered me for the last two years! I guess, when you look bad and you tried to look good (ex–if I actually try to overdirectionalize my locks) well, then that’s trouble. We’ll see.

It’s a modern Mrs. Brady–Lisa C. will be happy to know. The cap part isn’t cut close to my head like hers was–my layers are long. And the flipped ends aren’t long and exaggerated like Carol’s, but I couldn’t help thinking I was channeling the modern version of that look as my hair was being thinned. It’s cute. I figure I have the next 64 years to wear my bob…

Did I ever mention I’m supposed to live to be 100? I can’t tell you how disappointed I’ll be if I croak before then.

Kathie