So.
Yesterday I was standing in my kitchen tending to my kids’ Betta fishes.

All of the sudden, in one of those rare moments, everyone in the house went quiet. The kids and I were quiet just long enough for me to hear a clicking sound coming from behind our bin of beans. At first I thought I was hearing things so I walked closer to the bin only to hear it again. At this point my freak-o-meter was zooming up to very dangerous levels. I decide that I can get no closer to the bin, but I can stomp on the floor to scare whatever it is that’s behind the beans. The stomping doesn’t work and the clicking continues. I begin to think that whatever it is behind the beans is eating some of the spilled beans on my kitchen floor. This thought sends the freak-o-meter into over-drive.

My last move was to climb on top of one of my bar stools so I could try and see the thing that is making the annoying clicks. As I begin to stand on my tip toes to see if that would help my view, all of the sudden a part of what looked like a bean flicks out from behind the bin. I instantly scream, jump down from my perch, and high tail it out of my kitchen. I am beyond sure at this point that what is making that clicking sound is, in fact, a mouse or a rat.

I dial Tyson at work and instantly start the conversation with a shaky voice while telling him that I think there is a mouse in our kitchen. He tries to make me rational by saying that whatever is in there won’t hurt me. I tell him that I am way too freaked out to go in the kitchen and that I cannot handle this situation. He tells me he can’t leave work and I begin to have a semi breakdown. I muster up all the courage I have and go out our sliding glass door to try and see from the outside what is making the noise. People, I didn’t make it three feet. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at the thing through a window.

It is almost six o’clock in the evening, so calling my pest guy isn’t going to do anything for me. So Tyson says he’ll call Neil and see if he can come over. We get off the phone and I begin watching the entry to my kitchen just waiting for a big old rat to slide it’s way under the door so it can come and bite me. Neil gets to my house and I begin to think that my troubles could be coming to an end. He pokes around in my kitchen for a while and comes out to declare that there is no mouse in my kitchen. He asks me, “Are you sure you saw a mouse?” I tell him that I didn’t see a mouse per say, but that I heard what I thought was a mouse eating some of those beans on the floor.

And then, I hear the clicks again. I look at Neil and say, “Did ya hear that?” He didn’t and I tell him, “LISTEN.” And then we hear it again and Neil walks toward the bin of beans muttering, “No way….” I leave the kitchen area and wait for the verdict. All of the sudden Neil yells to me, “It isn’t a mouse!” I say, “Then what is it?” He then tells me that the clicker is a BUG. I then say, “Well, if it’s a bug then I still don’t want to go in there…. Can you get rid of it please?” He says, “Just come look at it.” Well, you can imagine that I really, really don’t want to look at this bug, but I go in there anyway. Neil starts telling me that this bug is injured and…. And right in the middle of Neil’s sentence that freaking bug JUMPED. It jumped about a foot in the air (NOT. kidding) and I SCAREEEEEEEAMED, jumped, and ran out of the kitchen.

Neil got rid of the bug and went home. I tried to tell him about a million times while he was walking out the door that I was really sorry that he had to come to my house to kill a bug…. But somehow, I still came off as the big, sorry wimp that I am.

I cannot tell you how embarrassed I am about this.
But. I would have bet anything that the jumping bug was, in fact, a mouse. And even if I had it in me to walk all the way over to the beans to see what I could see, I would have still freaked out MAJORLY over the jumping bug. Jumping bugs absolutely give me the willies.
However, I might not have had Tyson call Neil to come and get it…..
But still.

I could have SWORN it was a mouse.
Seriously.

Why the late wrap?
Because last week was the official week of the Up and the Down.

1. Helene went with me to get some blood work done. The short description; Not. fun. The long description; We waited for FIFTY-FIVE minutes. I know because I was watching the clock because we had to be home in time for Simon’s drop-off. Helene, once again, had free reign with the ipod.
   
   But, clearly, toward the end of our wait, she was getting grumpy. With about twenty minutes to go Helene lost all her patience. She was pulling on me and saying, in her loudest talking voice, that it was time to GO. Then she started her feature drama performance of, “Where’s Daddy?” What? Never heard of it? Well, it involves a little three year old crying loudly while asking over and over again where her daddy is. When the patient parent answers that her daddy is at work, the little three year old promptly begins sniffing and crying even louder for an undisclosed period of time. Yeah. It’s a fun one to watch. Clearly, taking children to my medical appointments hasn’t been going very well as of late. Not that I blame Helene for losing it. FIFTY-FIVE minutes is like a YEAR to a toddler. Hell. I was about ready to lose it.
2. I actually went to the gym THREE times this week. I am seriously proud of myself. I have a goal of working out three times a week, but most of the time I end up working out two times or none times. This week, however, I seemed to master myself. Because I really, really, and I mean really, did not want to go any of the times that the kids and I went. I feel particularly frumpy, pale, and mess-ish. And going to the gym feeling like that? Ummm… not fun. Why did I go? So my kids could go and have some fun for an hour and a half and I could have some time off. I know. Nice motivation, right? But it worked, and everyone was the better for it.
3. I finally. saw Stardust.
   
   I’ve been wanting to see this move since it came out, but shock of shocks, I had a very hard time finding a babysitter. Well, I finally got lucky and found one at the very last second on Friday night. Tyson and I met Sherrie and Neil inside the theater just in time for the show to start. Sherrie and I really, really liked the movie. The boys, however, had the same look on their faces for pretty much the entire movie. A look that sort of said, “We paid how much to see this movie?” Tyson said it was, “What I expected”. His expectations, I will tell you, weren’t at all high. Oh well. Tyson and I got a night away and that was great, because…..
4. All week both of my kids have been suffering from a bout with allergies. Their noses have been running and they have been sneezing and coughing. Almost every time this happens Helene gets it the worst. Her mucous seems to not agree with her tummy because, surprise-surprise, she started vomiting at about one in the morning on Sunday. Tyson and I were actually up watching TV on DVD, so at least we heard it from the start and were able to avert any major mess. Poor Helene. She spent the rest of the wee hours sleeping, propped up on her bean bag.

And now a new week has begun. Simon and Helene are still sick which probably means at least three more days of shoving medicine down their throats.
In other news….. As you can see from the change to my sidebar, I’ve done it. I’ve sold out. As these ads are paid by page impressions, please be a good friend to Kelly and search out my archives or the fascinating Nello 101 page. I promise, there is some really, really GREAT stuff inside this dusty old blog!

Happy Clicking!
(Thanks!!)

I guess it is time for the regular RSD update.
Ugh. I am SO dreading this. But I think it will be good for me to just type it out.
Maybe that way I can get “it” out of my system. (”It” being my bad, sad feelings.)

I went to my Primary Care Doctor last Thursday and, lucky me, I got to take BOTH of my children with me. The reason for the visit was to discuss some of the side effects that I am having to the medication that my Pain Management Doctors have been prescribing for me. I’m not going to go into specifics about how much fun it was to wrangle (or… wrestle?) my two kids while trying to express to my Doctor just what has been going on, but I will say that I don’t EVER want to do that AGAIN. However, I did get out of there alive, so I guess that is saying something.

But. I didn’t leave the office without a new prescription for Wellbutrin and a “recommendation” to go and talk to a Psychiatrist. Nope, not talk to a therapist. A Psychiatrist. (I guess only a PhD… woops! I mean an MD… can handle me….) Surprised? Probably not…. But I was. Remember? I didn’t go in there for that.

I guess my Doctor decided that I was, in fact, depressed when he asked me how I was feeling about everything and I completely fell apart. Yeah, I was a sight to behold, I’m sure. There I was, completely falling apart, crying, and trying to get my kids to NOT break the blood pressure machine all while wiping my eyes and nose so the kids didn’t start asking me if I was okay.

I’m going to be honest here and tell you that I am not happy at all about having to take medication so I can be somewhat normal again. I also am less than thrilled that I have landed myself back into the Mental Health category on my insurance. You know what I feel like? A failure. I know, I know. I shouldn’t feel that way. But you know what? My feelings are what they are. I know that this process will, in the end, make me a better, happier person. And that means that I’ll be a better wife, mother, and person. See? I get it. But that doesn’t mean that my feelings of being less than strong will go away. Well, those feelings will probably go away after about six sessions with a Psych…. but still.

Here I am, almost one week later, and the medication has started it’s magic. I have all but stopped grinding my teeth during the day. Which means that I am not feeling as stressed as I was. And I have noticed that I am handling the kids a lot better. Their general noise isn’t pricking at me anymore. Which makes me feel “normal”.

I went to my Pain Management Doctor today and for the first time in two months, I feel validated. You see, two visits ago I saw a P.A. who had zero clue how to deal with me. Then I saw the other Doctor in the practice who referred me to a neurologist because he didn’t think that my RSD had spread. (Even though I TOLD him that my arm feels almost identical to my foot.) Well, today I saw my Doctor. The Doctor that has done ALL of my nerve blocks. And miracle of miracles, he said, “It seems as though it (RSD) has spread to the upper extremities.” Ummmm… THANK YOU! He still wants me to go to the neurologist to make sure we aren’t missing anything, but he is pretty sure that what is going on with my arms is, in fact, RS-freaking-D.

While I am less than thrilled that RSD has possibly spread, I am so relieved that my Doctor is listening to me and working with me. As soon as I am done with the neurologist and all the tests that he wants to do, I am (if the neurologist finds nothing) going to start another series of nerve blocks. But this time they will be for my arms. I HATE nerve blocks… but they help me and they have put some people into remission, so I am more than willing to go for it again.

So. Here’s to Doctor H. Thank you SO much for listening to me. Thank you so much for talking to me and for reassuring me that this, all that I am going through, is temporary. Thank you for reminding me that I am not alone. This whole RSD ordeal has been absolutely horrible. And I was so grateful that you know that and get that. This really does affect me every day, every hour, every minute, and every freaking second. I knew that already because I live with it, but I’ve never thought of it that way. Probably because I didn’t want to believe it. But, it is what it is. And I feel better today because you validated all of the feelings that I have been having for forever.

Hmmm. Maybe Doctor H should be my Psychiatrist.
It seems that my session with him today helped me take at least five steps forward.
And, seriously. That is saying something.

I went to the freaking Dentist today. To get my teeth cleaned.
In a word; OUCH.

Please know that I am not a wimpy person about the Dentist and I go every six months. Like you’re supposed to.
But.
I HATE it. I hate the pokey-ness, the scrapey-scrape that sends CHILLS down my back, the gritty sand that they use to polish your teeth, the floss that feels like they shove it all the way down to the BONE of your jaw, and that freaking vacuum that they hang out of your mouth to suck up the disgusting saliva in your mouth. I don’t know what it was about today, but I seemed to hate all those things even worse than normal.

But guess what? Instead of squirming in my chair like I normally would have done (uh… to let her know that oh.my. if she stabs my gum just one more time, I’m gonna JUMP outta the chair and possibly SCREAM), I had to act like a big kid. Because. Little Miss Helene accompanied me today. For the first time ever.
She sat in one of those spinny Doctor chairs, right in front of me, listening to her playlist on our ipod and watching me with a very worried look on her face. I would say that about every five minutes she would say, extra loud, “Mommy, you ok?” And then she would let out a big, “Noooooooo. Don’t my Mommy.” To let Helene know that I was “fine” and “happy” to be getting my teeth cleaned I had to stay still, suppress my urge to flinch at every. single. gum jab, and wave at her at very close intervals.

With about ten minutes left in my appointment, the part where they start “polishing” your teeth with disgustingly flavored sand (mine was vanilla-mint…. ~gag~), Helene decided that she needed to be right next to my face checking out exactly what that lady was doing to my teeth. Well, Helene felt so bad for me that she started stroking my hair and saying, “It’s all right Mommy. Shhh..shhhh.”

I guess I didn’t fool her for one second.

Oh well. I tried.

On a happy note, Simon started another year of Preschool.

This year he is taking the bus BOTH ways which means that neither Tyson nor I have to battle the school traffic right off in the morning… Or the school crossing guard who wants to have awkward conversations while yelling at cars that they are going the wrong way.

Basically, I love the bus.
But I pretty much hate the dentist.

I’m not sure why it took me five or so paragraphs to say that… but there it is anyway.

*By the way… Not only can you SUBSCRIBE to Nello, you can now REGISTER on Nello. If you register on the site, you will be able to view private posts… if I ever decide to do that sort of thing. Which, actually, I am thinking about doing.*

Pretty much I’ve done nothing this week.
And since you know that I have two “active” (aka: under five years old) kids… you know I’m, in fact, lying.

Well…..

1. Guess what? I’ve been blogging for two years and never ONCE have I celebrated a “blogiversary”. What kind of blogger does that make me? Actually, I’m thinking that it makes me a pretty cool blooger (spelling was an accident, but then it made me laugh, so I kept it!).
2. Did I ever tell you that Tyson and I have had ONE car since Helene was born? Nope? Hmmm… that’s weird. I’m sure that is because I didn’t want to BORE you. Without going into the whys and the hows of it all, just know that Tyson and I officially have two cars again. And it is GRRRRREAT. It’s like a breath of fresh air. Ahhhhh. No more sharing a car. Ahhhhh. Seriously. so. fabulous.
3. Did I ever tell you that not only do I NOT have a laptop, Tyson and I don’t have digital cable OR a DVR? Hmmm. That’s weird. Again. I’m sure it’s because I didn’t want to BORE you… to tears. Well, after what felt like a bazillion hour long phone call with the monopolizing cable company in our area, all of that is going to change at the end of the month. Oh yeah. That’s right. I get digital cable, on DEMAND programming!!!!, AND a DVR. Hey. I still have no laptop… but I’ve got MAJOR tv.
4. Remember that home security system I got so that I could sleep better at night? Umyeah. It hasn’t been working since….ummm…. MAY. Yeah. I.KNOW! So ticked that I seriously have no words except that I got that bad boy fixed. (Umhi. Someone could have come in here, killed me, and my stupid beeping alarm would have notified ZERO people. Again with the grrrrrrrrr.)
5. Please take a gander over at my sidebar please. See that orange square that says, “Subscribe to Nello!“? Yep. That’s the one. Could you click it and subscribe to me if you use a feed reader? Or, actually, even if you don’t… you can still click it and subscribe. I am at the point in my blogging career that I would LOVE to know how many real readers I have. Muchas Gracias.
6. No post of mine is really complete unless I reveal something really pathetic and shameful about myself. I give to you, what I guess would be called, my Pez dispenser collection. ~hangs head in shame~
   
   Now, before you go all crazy on me… just know that never did I ever intend for this to become what it has. I just love the frigging candy. And sometimes you can’t just find the Pez all by itself without a plastic dispenser… But none of that really explains why I have kept all those dispensers, now does it? Hmmmm….

Now that the wrap is done, I have questions for you people, my readers.
1. How would you feel if I sold out? Meaning… put advertising on here.
2. Would you promise hopetodie to click my ads so that I could become rich off of your potential carpal tunnel syndrome?
3. Or would you just go away because I’m a sell out?
4. Does my wrap style of writing bug you? I used to write a lot more on here, but now that I write about two or three times a week I tend to fill my wraps with things that before I would have given it’s very own post. What do you think about this? Are the wraps too long and involved or are they good the way they are?

*Please, if you are gonna answer the questions please do so honestly. I won’t get my feelers hurt. Promise.*

Basically, as you can see, I am trying to make my blog a better place to be while also making money off of your clicks.
Hope that’s okay with you!
Happy Weekend!

And…..
I’m home.

What a great feeling it is to walk into your house after a long, LONG trip and feel like you can breathe again. You know, I think I’m making it sound like I didn’t have a good time. But that is not the case. I DID have a good time. I had a GREAT time, actually. I was just ready to come home about two days before we did, that’s all.

I could seriously bore you to tears with all of the details of my trip… so I’ll have mercy on you. I’ll only tell you of the trip highlights in my famous Wrap style.

1. We went to Santa Monica and the weather was complete crap… that is why none of us are in bathing suits. What’s the point if the sun isn’t out?
   
   
   The kids, however, had a great time running away from waves and seagulls all while throwing sand at anyone and anything.
2. Tyson and I stayed at the Omni Hotel one night and went to dinner at Cicada. The hotel was EXACTLY what I needed. The kids stayed at Grandma’s house and I got the BEST sleep that I’ve had in probably a whole year. I don’t know what kind of bed I slept on… but it was fabulous. I, for sure, could have used a few more nights at the Omni… but you take what you can, right? Dinner at Cicada was seriously GOOD. The atmosphere was casual-elegant and the food was very, very good. My only complaint was that I wanted crème brulée. Regular crème brulée. But Cicada’s crème brulée had raisins in it. And to me, that is just YUCKO. I don’t think raisins belong anywhere NEAR crème brulée. But hey, that’s just me….
3. Of course, we went to the beach about a million more times during fantastic weather and had a blast.
   
   
   The kids’ favorite part was all the sand. And getting sand all over themselves. And all over me. And all over all of our stuff. (grrrr….)
   
   But they had fun and that’s all that matters, right?
4. My Mommy (I really call her “Mom” or “Shauna”, but for the purposes of this story, I’m going to continue calling her “Mommy”…. even though, I SWEAR I haven’t called her that since I was four.)… Ummm. Okay. My Mommy bought me a baby turtle! Allow me to introduce you to Vivian Leigh.
   
   
   Isn’t she gorgeous? She is a red-eared slider turtle, and, obviously, the most gorgeous one ever born. I can’t believe that I’m in love with a turtle…. but I am. Vivian Leigh is seriously such a great pet! My kids are really into our new “sea turtle” and thankfully, neither of them are brave enough to take Vivian Leigh out of her home to go “play”. Anyway. I am SURE that I will blog about Vivian Leigh often. So be ready!
5. We went to Balboa Island on Saturday when Tyson finally joined us on our vacation again, and we walked around, shopped!, and ate famous Balboa Bars. If you don’t know what those are, just let me assure you that you are missing out.
   But look, LOOK at what I found!
   
   Oh yes!!! Slippers! New ones! I’ve been looking and looking for the right ones for SO. long. And when I saw those, I knew I had found the ones. (If you haven’t learned that slippers are a HUGE part of my life yet, then either you haven’t been reading my blog for very long or you haven’t been paying attention.)

Well, that was basically my vacation, minus about fifty thousand other pictures and stories! I am feeling better than I have in a while, so I think the vacation did part of what it was supposed to.
Now that I’ve got the beach out of my system, I have my head turned toward the Fall season. I am done with Summer now and am ready for cooler weather and all of the fun Fall Holidays.
~ahem!… Halloween…~