100 Things

I always like reading people's "100 Things" lists, so here's mine.

Hopefully the last entry on this topic.....

Last night I was awake for quite a while writing an entry in my head trying to explain what it's like. 

Imagine you're outside, watching a soccer game, at a BBQ, some fun thing, having a fine time, and all of a sudden the special effects guys at Industrial Light and Sound starting working their magic. You're sucked backwards fast through a long, long tunnel/hallway away from everything you know.  You're grabbing at the walls hurtling past, you're trying to stop the sucking, you're trying to throw yourself to the ground, because you see your world getting smaller and smaller and you don't know when you're going to land.  But your will is no match for the SuperSuck.  Finally you drop at the end of the hallway, bruised and windblown, onto a concrete floor.  You think, what would Sydney do in "Alias"?  She'd find some pipes or something to grab and she'd get herself out of there.  But there are no pipes, nothing to grab onto and even Sydney needs Vaughn to rescue her sometimes.  You try running back, but the floor is a treadmill and the faster you run, the faster you stay in one place.  So there's nothing you can do until George Lucas' guys decide to reverse their special effects machine and bring you back.  They do, and it's such a relief when you're back, but you're still a little shaken.  Makes it hard to completely relax when you know it could happen again at any time. 

The other special-effects metaphor I thought of was that force field in Star Wars I: The Phantom Menace (I think it's that one) - you know, the one on the battlefield that's clear but looks like water when they try to penetrate it?  Imagine being surrounded by one of those and you can't get through the force field to touch anything.  So you're stuck, alone, until the force field turns off. 

Choose whichever makes more sense to you. 

Whew, that was close....

My brain is slowly coming back around to normal (whatever that is).  I swear, I couldn't remember what I used to think about besides, "It's OK it will be alright you'll be better soon everything is fine you are usually happy and you will be there again the chemistry will be back soon this will pass soon you are strong there is nothing really wrong..." etc.  And now I do think other things, and it turns out my normal thoughts aren't all that profound.

I have a confession....I've been cheating.  I've been blogging elsewhere.  I call it my Mood-O-Meter and it's a chronicle of my experience this time. I'm hoping it will become useful should I ever decide to write a book about depression and anxiety. Trust me, you don't want to read it, it's depressing. 

Other Random Bits:

We have a book about baby animals and their mamas.  Aidan points to the mama and says, "Mama Zebra," and then points to the baby and says, "Aidan Zebra."  Awwwww.

I tried to find a photo of the Low-Carb Cherry Bacardi Malt Beverage all over the billboards by my house, but no luck.  They make it look so healthy and good for you!

Had to do a 3-hour glucose tolerance test today because at the prenatal registration I made the mistake of checking "diabetes" on the list of things your relatives have. My dad is diabetic but not until he was 80, for heaven's sake.  So anyway, I go to do the 1-hour test where you drink this very sugary orange soda ("We used to have Coke flavor, but more people threw up with that one" said the helpful clerk), sit around for an hour and then have them draw blood.  I failed it. Sheesh, like I'm not feeling bad enough already.  So I gotta go back and take the remedial glucose test.

So this morning I had to fast, which was no big deal.  Thought I'd drink the stuff, and go back 3 hours later.  So I got there at 8am, drank my orange soda, and then was told they were going to draw blood every hour for 3 hours!  What, you haven't taken enough??? I've got big bruises on the insides of each elbow from the blood they'd already taken for the HIV, genetic this and that, blah blah blah other tests.  Ppppssssh. 

Hi hi hi

I'm still here, more or less. Not on the computer as much, except to research pregnancy and depression.  Yep, the first trimester hormones have hit and my week has been one of hanging on by my fingernails until the new meds start working.  I would've done the switch (from Zoloft to Prozac, which worked better for me before) before I got pregnant, but you know, I got pregnant really, really fast.  So the combination of switching and a big hormone rush has thrown the big wet blanket over my brain again.  Had a great vacation, things are going fine, and my brain has decided to fall apart.

It feels like a week-long panic attack. My digestive system is all ferklumpt, I have trouble eating and whatever I do eat comes right out again, anyway (sorry).  I wake up early in the morning dreading another whole day to get through.  Things that usually bring me peace and relaxation don't touch me anymore, which is quite painful.  I know I have a fantastic support system, with lots of people who love me, and frankly, that and a bit of hope are what keep me going.  My niece gave me a little pocket angel a few years back, and I carry it with me to remind me of all the angels in my life.  But right now, it's all about hope. I've gotten through every episode before, and I'm usually a very happy person (when there's an acceptable level of serotonin in my brain).  There's no reason to think that this episode will be any different, so hope is the only game in town right now. 

Part Deux: Morticians Visit the Happiest Place on Earth

So, yeah - it was kind of weird being at Disneyland with the mortician's conference.  I struck up a conversation with another mother at the swimming pool and the conversation kind of ended when I said what conference we were with. I had to amend it with, "Oh, my husband's not a mortician, he's just speaking at the conference," to point out that we were not one of THEM.  Which is kind of ridiculous, but made me wonder if they do that too, you know, avoid saying what they do for a living in casual conversation.
 
We didn't get to go to the Batesville Casket Company breakfast because, technically, A. and I weren't invited as we were not, technically, part of the conference. But I did get to walk through the exhibit hall and I got to go to their beach party.
 
The exhibit hall was a bit weird, but I was prepared for it.  It was quite out of the way, and no unsuspecting vacationeers could really have stumbled upon it unaware, fortunately.  There were: a hearse company, complete with two models right there on the floor ("Big Cah!" says A.);  several casket companies - not sure what the difference was between them, but one seemed to specialize in personalized embroidery on the lining.  All had 3-4 open samples on the floor. A crematorium company - I didn't stay at that booth long.  Lots of urns - one was interesting - it looked like a regular old wooden picture frame, except that it was an urn.  Presumably you'd put a photo of your loved one in the frame, and no one would know it was an urn ("Hey, honey, you know that old picture of your Dad that's been in that frame forever? I got a new one on sale at Pottery Barn!  Oh, I just threw that old one out!").  Lots of memorial things - programs for services, ornaments of angels, albums, and video companies who put together memorial slide shows, a dove release company (with two live samples, to prove, I guess, that they do use real birds). All were mostly tasteful and I got the feeling that they really are trying to make death easier for the survivors.
 
A couple were a bit odd - a private autopsy company was giving out free T-shirts with 1-800-AUTOPSY emblazoned in big letters on the back.  They were a very hot item, with lots of attendees grabbing a free shirt. I was tempted, but then thought, wait a sec, where the hell am I going to wear that? I took a very small keychain that looks like a California license plate but says, "1-800-Autopsy" - just in case that ever becomes something I'm in the market for.
 
There was the crime scene clean-up company, which provided a very useful service, but again, I didn't particularly want to see the before and after photos.
 
They also had an exhibit of a turn-of-the-century embalming room.  This generated lots of interest, with people ooohing and ahhing over the stuff.  Again, didn't stay long at that one, either.
 
What surprised me the most was the number of hip young folk that work in the funeral industry. They look fresh out of college, and like they were sorority or fraternity material, all blonde and tan and highlighted. They wore nametags that said, "Aurora Casket Company" and looked terribly normal. I'm sure this shouldn't surprise me, but it did.  There were, as expected, lots of middle-aged white men, some with cute families, some with trophy wives, but all looking, I hate to say it, pretty normal. 
 
At the beach party there was an open bar, that, damnit, I couldn't take advantage of, and a Beach Boys cover band. They actually call themselves the "Beach Boys," but their cover was blown when the lead singer whined that there was too much sand being thrown about and his contacts felt like sandpaper.  You're the BEACH Boys, for God's sake.  A. watched a boy of about 9 bury himself in the sand and was quite interested for a long time.  So interested, in fact, that before I could stop him he threw himself back on the sand, grabbed a handful of sand and threw it in his own face.  As you might imagine, we left shortly after that. 

Southern California, part une

Howdy all! I'm back! Yeehaw! Slaughter the fatted calf!
 
22 months is a great age to take your kid to Disneyland.  They don't want to stand in long lines, so you don't have to either, and they're too young to ask you to buy stuff for them.  A. did fill the stroller basket with Wiggles bath towels when he saw them, but we sneaked them back to the shelf and he hasn't mentioned them since.
 
Some high (and low) lights:
 
1. What's with hotel rooms not having a bathtub?  We had to request new rooms both in Santa Barbara and the Disneyland Hotel (DLH) because they only had us a shower.  One woman at the DLH told us that we didn't get a bathtub because we requested a king bed, and all the rooms with a king bed had only a shower.  What kind of hotel logic is that?  Besides, she was lying because we did end up with a room with a king bed AND a tub. A. does not take showers, and while the swimming pool will clean him to some degree,  he doesn't put his head in the water and I did want to wash his hair at least once. 
 
2. We never had a long line, and the park was pretty crowded.  Even on the Pirates of the Caribbean. (Yes, we took A. on POTC  - much to the consternation of a snotty teenage girl who snottily informed us that it was "kind of a scary ride, you people with babies" with much eye rolling.  A. did better than you probably did, Scared Snot Girl). 
 
For all the rides, we usually had to wait for 2, maybe 3, cars to fill up before our turn.  Apparently we frequented the unpopular rides, but it was great.
 
3. Disneyland has changed a lot in the 25 years since I was last there.  No more acres of parking lot surrounding the hotel and the main gates. You can't even see the parking lots, really. It's all filled with California Adventure and Downtown Disney.  And remember how you used to be able to see the Matterhorn from the I-5 and you'd cheer because you were almost there? All the little wimpy trees have grown up and you can't see it anymore.
 
4.  A.'s favorite things were saying, "DIZzy-Lan!" and "MICK-eymouse!"  It was very cute and people were charmed.  I'm always kind of impressed at how many comments we get about his cuteness from people who see little kids all day long (like at DL).  I just wish they wouldn't try to touch him so much (so does he).  He also loved chasing the sparrows (someday we'll have to teach him not to torture birds),  running in vacant lines - under the chains and around the pylons, and running around fountains.  When he's walking, he likes to stop suddenly in front of people, squat, say, "Ready, set...GO!" and then stand up and run.  The problem is that people tend to trip over him, and you never really know when he's going to do this.  So I said, "Sorry!" and "Excuse us!" a lot. 
 
He also loved the hotel elevator and informed everyone who joined us in this small magic transporter room that they, too, were in the "e-vator" and were going "down" even when we were going up. He also imitated the beeps at each floor. Most people found this charming, I believe. He also politely said "bye-bye!" and waved to all the elevator occupants. I think he may have a future as an elevator operator, if he can get that "up" and "down" thing right.
 
Like most kids, he enjoyed the characters unless they tried to get too close or touch him. Pooh was OK, and Rolie Polie Olie was also OK (although taller than I expected).  Aladdin was OK since he was human. The rest he just tolerated.  For some reason we kept running into Captain Hook, who is one of the scarier ones.  I think he was stalking us.
 
Coming up.....Part Deux: Morticians Visit the Happiest Place on Earth.
 
 
 
 

I'm off!

I'm off to Disneyland! Wish us luck! I'll be back Friday, and I don't think I'll be on the internet much before then, so don't do anything exciting. I'll update on all the mortician excitement when I get back. I'll try to take some photos of the Casket Company Breakfast (buffet in a coffin, maybe?).

Lunasea, you just discovered you're pregnant! What are you gonna do now?

I'm goin' to Disneyland!! Yep, where else would I want to spend a week of my first, nauseated and dragging trimester but in Disneyland partying with a bunch of morticians? G is presenting at the mortician conference (yes, at Disneyland), and so we got 2 nights free at the Disneyland hotel, and then we're paying for two more nights at the conference rate, so all in all, it still pretty much costs his whole fee. I cannot believe how much they charge to get in - we're probably only going to do a few rides with the munchkin, so we're paying over $50 a day to shop and eat expensive food. And we got about $100 off buying the passes through ebay.

We get to party with the morticians at a beach party, and join them for the Batesville Casket Company Breakfast. You can't make this stuff up. I can't wait to see the exhibit hall.

Hoo boy (or girl)....

So, yeah. Remember how I was feeling so tired and blegh-y? Well, all close family members have been alerted (except my dad, who doesn't read this blog and whom I'll tell next weekend)....so I guess you all can know too. Apparently it wasn't a drop of hormone levels. Apparently it was an increase of hormone levels.

On our anniversary last Friday, I took an EPT in the morning just to reassure myself since I planned on celebrating that night with a mojito or two, and we hadn't used birth control since beginning of May. Guess what? I partied hardy with a diet coke. Oh yeah, don't tell my dad yet.

More Random Fun...

Stolen from Defective Yeti:

Here are the actual candidates being asked to rate their charisma on a scale of 1 to 5:



-------

I was looking on one of those parenting sites, the kind that personalizes info to your child's age after you register and give them all your personal information. Anyway, they had a suggestion for my now-22-month-old toddler: "I find that a great way to spice up an afternoon is to set my son up with a couple magazines, safety scissors, and a glue stick — and watch him go. -Susan" Watch him go what? Rub the glue stick all over himself? Cut off his tongue? Maybe her toddler understands the word "collage," but mine sure doesn't.

All you hip chicks and dudes out there are no doubt already a fan of this site. Check out the prank site and this page for some new conversation heart phrases (bottom right of page).

Happy 5th of July!

I had no idea the 5th of July was such a big holiday. Those of us who are self-employed sometimes miss out on the rest of the world's holidays because we don't think to take them off. Most of my clients, though, work in the Real World and so were doing fun things today instead of working. One client wasn't, so I drove in to my office to see him. The highway I drive on has some of the worst traffic in California, and it was like Christmas morning it was so deserted. It was kind of weird, really. So I hope you're enjoying your 5th of July, wherever you are.

Many happenings here at Chez Lunasea, not all of which I can talk about yet. Friday was G's and my 4th anniversary, and he was pleased to be informed that he is on my short list of running mate choices for the next term. I'm still waiting to see if John Edwards will be available. We celebrated with our small red-headed one at a new, very chic and cool restaurant near home. It was great because our town is more known for gang activity and dumped homicide victims than for chic and cool restaurants. It was also great because no one wanted to sit on the patio (our town is also right in a fog belt) so we were alone out there and the short one could run around the garden blowing his nose at the flowers (he thinks he's sniffing them but is a little unclear on the concept). I had the best rib-eye I've ever had, with blue-cheese butter. And really amazing scalloped-type potatoes. G. had quail, which I've never understood but which he assures me were quite tasty. A lovely time was had by all.