You’re Dixie’s Football Pride!!!!!!

“It’s just a game”

This is what my mother told me earlier.

Who is this woman?

How on earth did I come from the same gene pool as her?

Just a game?

JUST A GAME?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

I must respectfully disagree lady.

Just a game, pshaw.

Two hours and counting.

It’s almost time!!!!!

I can barely contain my excitement.  We’ve got some guys working at the house today (fix some boards outside and we are having benches put in the breakfast room and built in bookshelves put in the blue room- I’ll be sure to put up some pics when they are done.) and we were talking about the game.

I almost had to ask them to leave when one of the guys said he doesn’t think Alabama has a chance.

Blasphemy!

I will say that if they pull a Sugar Bowl then I (and the rest of the Alabama faithful) will be extremely disappointed.  Hopefully Nick Saban has done a good job and not letting the “favored to win” mentality go their head.

Thursday night can not get here soon enough!

Dear old ladies in the locker room,

Would it kill you to put some clothes on?  At least a towel?  I know we are all women and have all the same parts but honestly I don’t want a very vivid glimpse into my distant future staring me right in the face.

I speak for all of us who don’t know where to look when we talk to you.

Love,

Amanda

I need two priests- a young and an old

This post contains gratuitous whining- you have been warned.

Remember that three weeks of limited mobility?  Well 2.5 into it and nothing has improved.  Actually one might say it is worse!

If my foot does not get it’s act together by Wednesday I fear this is in my future:

Here’s the bad thing about this- I drive a stick shift.

Not only do I drive a stick shift, but my husband is getting ready to go out of town for a week.  Which means in order to get out of my house I will need to take this puppy off.

And for those who know me- the moment I can take something off, I will.  Okay that came out much worse than I intended.  What I meant was I’m horrible at leaving things alone.  BandAid?  Rip it off milliseconds after bleeding has stopped.  Brace for a broken finger?  It’s a distant memory about the time the swelling goes down and movement returns.

So it would be in my best interest that I not be able to take it off- well not take it off to drive somewhere, because it would just take that one time “oh I’ll just drive over to Blockbuster” which will turn into “oh I’ll just drive up to the library” and “I’ll just quick run to the store” and next thing I know it will be off more often than on.  That would be very bad.  I really want to  be able to do the Disney Princess 5K but if I’m not able to start walking/running again soon then it will go the way of the Turkey Trot.  And that would make me sad.

Ugh.

Does anyone have the number of their witch doctor?  I could use one.

RoadID giveaway

over on Fit Bride

RoadID is fabulous.  No really- it is.

Before my pesky peroneal tendon decided to throw a bitch fit, I enjoyed running outside.  And even though I am not a small target, and I had on a reflective vest and a blinking light, I’ve almost been run over twice.  TWICE!!!

That coupled with my severe penicillin and sulfa allergies I decided to get the RoadID.   I went with the version that has the online profile- mainly because allergic to pcn and sulfa wouldn’t fit on the tag.  Now when I get run over (or my heart gives out, or I’m hatchet murdered) the emt or whoever will be able to call the number on my tag and find out where I live, my emergency contacts and my medical history.

I like RoadID so much that I actually gave two of my siblings gift cards for their own this Christmas.  My brother has a tendency to run into trees while mountain biking (it’s a family trait) and my baby sister is training for a half marathon.

So if you don’t have one- go check out Fit Bride’s blog (she has three different ways to win I believe) and if you don’t win there go spend the 30 something bucks.  It’s a small price to pay for peace of mind.

It’s always darkest before dawn.

Well we made it.

Another holiday season is in the books and we came out alive.

I don’t talk about the whole infertility part of my life that often here because well, it sucks and who wants to a.)dwell on the suckage or 2.) read about the suckage.  The answer is no one.

But this time of year is one in which you can not escape infertility.  It’s there lurking around every corner.  No matter how okay you are with your status in life, one Hallmark commercial showing the happy family with their 2.4 children is all it takes to completely unravel your resolve.

Some people are understanding- I have been extremely blessed in the fact that I have two parents that are this infertile woman’s dream come true.  They give me my space and only rarely broach the subject.  When I told them at Thanksgiving that I wasn’t coming home for Christmas, they were obviously disappointed but in the end I think understood why.  It’s all about survival.  Self preservation.  Some are not- the coworker who, knowing of your situation, stands in front of you every day rubbing her belly or the friend who takes every chance they can to tell you how awesome it is to be a mom and you should totally try harder to get pregnant.  They just suck.

But now a new year looms.  Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas- all majorly kid centric holidays- have passed.  New Year’s Eve really is the holiday for the infertile couple.

1.) We don’t have to start hunting down a babysitter in July.  We can make plans as last minute as our heart desires.  If we decide at 3:30 on December 31st that we want to go out, we won’t be leaving any children with that creepy guy who collects rabbit’s feet in mason jars on his porch.   Granted- this chick and her husband don’t usually do anything but still, if we wanted to, we could.

2.) It’s a new year.  There is not a single infertile couple that will deny that even in the most hopeless of situations, when January 1st rolls around they don’t once think, “this will be the year”.  Getting pregnant is no longer my main focus but even I am guilty of saying to myself “surely this will be the year.”  For all intents and purposes, I’ve got new goals and aspirations.  Trying to move on to a new chapter in life- but there is still that little part of me.

So to all my infertile friends- first, congrats!  We made it through the darkest days of the year.  Now is our chance to celebrate.   To that cousin who told you “you should be thankful you aren’t pregnant!  I’m miserable!”- go ahead and gloat about the fact you aren’t paying $300 for a babysitter.  To the acquittance who felt the need to involve you in every step of her pregnancy/birth- remind often that you will have nothing exacerbating your hangover in the morning.

And to that little voice of hope?  Indulge it.  Even if for just the one day.  Imagine what it would be like- but when you do, take happiness in that image.  I’ve had people ask me if I regretted being excited about ttc- planning out a nursery or thinking up names- if I wish I had known then what I know now… and honestly, not in the least bit.

Every one deserves to be excited about having a family.  That bit of excitement might be the closest I ever get to the whole package.  If that time of looking at strollers and cribs is all I get, then I’m glad I enjoyed it when I did.

So here’s to 2010!   May it hold all your hopes and desires.

BVM Boobies

I am scarred for life.

So we went to Mass tonight and beforehand the choir sang some carols and other pieces.

Everything was going well.  The music director started singing a song that was nice.  I wasn’t really paying too close attention to the words (I have an almost OCD compulsion that I have to flip through the missalette before mass- without fail) when all over a sudden I heard something.

I leaned over to MrBunny and asked “Did he just say something about Mary’s breasts?”

“Yes he did.”

“Oh”

I started paying better attention and sure enough the words of the song were “Mary’s breasts fed the savior of the world”.

You read that correctly.  Trust me.  I know because by this point I was completely focused on the dude singing.  I kept thinking that surely I had heard him wrong.  But I hadn’t.

He was singing a song about Mary breastfeeding- I’m sure there was other points but that’s all I could hear at that point.

Now I have no problem with breastfeeding, and not usually that much of a prude but for some reason the image of Mary and her knockers was making me a little uncomfortable.  I started getting a little squirmy.  And of course MrBunny is a boy of the 13 year old variety so he just kept giggling.

After mass we went to dinner with our friends (we had gone to a Methodist service with them earlier and then they went to mass with us) I asked them if they had noticed the song about Mary’s boobs.

Of course they had.

And now of course they won’t let me forget it.  All night they kept bringing up Mary’s funbags.

It’s sort of amusing because during the homily the priest (who has this Irish lilt that is about the most soothing thing you could ever hear… I need to have him make me a recording or something that I can play when I can’t sleep) was talking about how there are the smallest of memories that can hurtle us back to Christmases of the past.

I fear that this Christmas will now be forever remembered as the year that had “that song about the BVM’s boobies”.

I think I need to enlist the help of a professional.

I’ve had a choir or two

that it would have been wiser to go the “Silent Monk” route with this piece.

Peroneal Tendonitis

I has it.

I am a horrible patient though.  Horrible.

When the dr. told me that I needed to rest my foot as much as humanly possible over the next three weeks, I laughed.  Because of this, he decided that it was necessary to give me the absolute worst case scenario if I did not rest my foot.  Not going to lie- the alternative is rather alarming (and much longer than 3 weeks) and painful.

So I conceded that I would attempt limited mobility.

I figured that I would go run some errands before I picked up my prescription and headed home.  Went to Target and Blockbuster and the gas station and then went to the grocery store.  Awhile back I started making a conscious effort to park as far away as possible from the door so as to get a little bit of exercise.

Wouldn’t you know that as I’m walking through the parking lot the dr. drives up.  He rolls down his window and says “not quite what I meant about limited mobility”.

le sigh

So now I’m sitting here watching cheesy made for tv christmas movies- something I love.  But when those run out I don’t know what I’m going to do to keep sane.  Hopefully 3 weeks will be long enough.  Damn you peroneal tendon!

In a completely unrelated note: I had a hit yesterday from My Husband Is Annoying.  I don’t know why exactly, well, I have an inkling but yea, it seems as if we are married to the same man.  Especially the post on the sinuses.  OMG the fucking sinuses.  If MrBunny doesn’t get his fixed (I don’t care how it comes about) then I am going to be taking a power drill to them myself.  If I’m a horrible patient then he is the spawn of satan.  Spawn of satan with a constant sinus issue that’s been going on for over six months and driving me absolutely nuts.

I’m so excited

and I just can’t hide it!!!!!!

Rose Bowl here we come!!!!!

Seriously that game was beyond amazing.  At times it felt like an out of body experience.

And if Mark Ingram does not win the Heisman after his incredible game then there is something inherently wrong with the system.  He has been “the man” all season long.  Alabama is going to the Rose Bowl because when Greg McElroy forgot how to play football, Mark Ingram stepped up and carried the Tide offense to victories.

Thankfully McElroy remembered his winning ways and came through for the Tide big time.  It started that last drive of the Auburn game last week and continued tonight.  All those people who said they’d rather have Tim Tebow as a quarterback now have this as their lasting image.

If Alabama winning and going to the BCS title game was not enough- watching Timmay cry on the sidelines was the frosting on the cake.

So now Alabama goes on to face Texas.  I’m happy/sad that I’m not going to be in St. Louis for the championship game.  My dad and brother are huge Longhorn fans.  Huge.

Rest assured my mom is really happy I’m not going to be there.  We haven’t been known to really “play nice” in the past.  If there is nothing else that my dad, brother, and I have in common it is fierce competitiveness with a hint of sore loser mixed in.  Oh and there is plenty of cursing.  As my mom puts it “very undeaconlike language”- but she has very little room to talk.

Of course if Texas loses she has to deal with my dad and brother pouting.  Better get prepared for that mom- Texas is going down!

Horrifying

If the last group of Christian singers (who I found again on youtube… unfortunately) didn’t make you wish for a sharp knife- this surely will.

And yet I wondered why people would think I was a nutcase when I would mention that I was a church musician.

This is only made more disturbing by the random sirens and then the gunshots at the end.

And if that wasn’t bad enough- here’s what I imagine hell looks like.  If I’m met with a “Holy Ghost Hoe-Down” at the end of my life I’ll know that something has gone horribly wrong.

All I can think of when I watch that is the South Park episode when Cartman decides to start a Christian rock band.

Finally- one has to wonder if these people live in fear every day that friends of theirs will come across this little gem.

The Great Bisquick Incident of 2007

Have I ever told this story?

No?

Well let me remedy that.

Okay, well let’s set the stage here.

It was our house in Clarksville but MrBunny had already moved down to SW Georgia (the first time) and had taken Ginger with him.  I was still at the house because I was finishing up my job and getting the house ready to sell.  Bronco stayed with me because he was still very much a puppy and attached to my hip (little did we know then that that would never go away- even as I type he is using my leg as a pillow).

So I’m upstairs painting the bathroom ceiling when I notice that I hadn’t seen Bronco in  a few minutes and it was really quiet.  These two things never went well together.

I look in the upstairs bedrooms- not there.  I start to head downstairs when I hear the faintest rustle of plastic.  Very gingerly I continued down the stairs and peered around the corner into the dining room.

Imagine my surprise when this is what I saw.

He had gotten up on the counter and into the cabinet and found a box of Bisquick.  And apparently was enjoying the hell out of it.

It was all I could do not to bust out laughing.  Instead I regained my composure and scolded him.

I’m still not totally sure how he got it all over the top of his head.  It was everywhere.  Everywhere!

And as luck would have it the realtor called roughly four minutes after I first arrived upon the scene.  She had people that wanted to see the house- right then.

I told her that she would have to give me at least 30 minutes because I needed to clean up from painting- yea right.

Little known fact: When Bisquick and dog spit mix in a carpet they become a glue like substance.  A glue like substance that takes forever to clean up.

I ended up having to move the table and go find a UHaul box to put over the spot.   It looked like I had just finished packing the china cabinet.

Unfortunately the people didn’t buy the house.  I’m blaming the freaky princess mural.

So that is the story of the Great Bisquick Incident of 2007.  I’d like to say it was the last time something like that has happened.  But that would be a lie.

And just because I came across it when looking for the Bisquick pictures- Ginger snug as a bug in a rug.

Cold War Veterans

First- Happy Veterans Day!  Today is a day to honor all who have served in the protection of this great country of ours.

Unfortunately there is a vast population of service men and women who are not considered “veterans of war” even though it was a war that spanned decades and spurred massive social change in parts of the world.

It was a war that saw the Cuban missile crisis and the fall of the Berlin Wall (for which I feel numerous players should have been considered for a Nobel Peace Prize- a much more significant achievement then merely being elected, but that is another post for another day).  One that saw both the race to the moon and the race for nuclear arms.

But because this war was not fought in traditional methods those who served in the military during this time (obviously excluding those who served in the Korean and Vietnam wars) are not considered veterans.  They can not join the VFW and to this date were not awarded a service medal, as all veterans of other wars are.

Can we not argue that the dissolution of the USSR was just as important as the ousting of Saddam Hussein?  That preventing the spread of communism and the threat of nuclear war just as vital as squelching the work of the Taliban?

What would the world look like had those men and women not “stood watch” through 40+ years of tension?

It is time that these service men and women get the recognition that they deserve.

Yesterday two bills were introduced into Congress that would do just that.

Please contact your Senators and ask them to co-sponsor senate bill (S.2743) Also contact your congressman and ask them to co-sponsor house bill (H.R. 4051)

These military men and women are no less veterans then those who fought in traditional wars- it is about time that we and the government recognize that.

Ten days have come and gone

And yet I’m still dealing with a dog with a bleeding tail.

Gentle readers:

Take this advice.  Do not cut your dog’s tail off.  It becomes a huge pain in your ass.

Anyways.

The hope of being stitch free last Friday was completely dashed pretty quickly.  I have been back to the vet almost every single day since the 15th.  First he kept bleeding through his bandage.  Then the vet wanted to see about taking the bandage off and letting it dry out.  That lasted about as long as it took him to walk back to the vet’s lobby.  Then it was right back to get a new bandage.

Then today we had to go back because he ripped out one stitch by whacking his tail on the kitchen counter.  Blood everywhere once again. :sigh:

We go back tomorrow with the hopes that maybe we can be stitch free on this Friday.  Please baby jesus.

Not only do I hope he is stitch free because I’m ready for it to be healed and hopefully move past this saga but my parents are supposed to come visit on Sunday.  Just a brief visit- overnight, but it will be my mom’s first time seeing the house.

Which means I need to clean this house.  I may have the cleanest walls in the Western world thanks to a bleeding tail but I’ve also had to spend 95% of my time sitting in bed with a dog this past week and a half and my house certainly looks like it.

Wish us luck tomorrow!

Dog update

Thanks for all the well wishes and speedy recovery thoughts over the last day.

After spending the night at the vet, Bronco came home this morning.  We then had to go back about a half an hour later because the bandage had come off and blood was once again going everywhere.

But after we got home the second time things were much better.

For the most part he doesn’t act like his tail is bothering him.  Every once in awhile he will hit it and sort of jump so we are trying to keep him as calm as you can possibly keep a 3 year old lab who loves to run and jump and play.

Basically I’ve been sitting in the bed with him.  He’s always loved to lay in our bed and sleep so we let him.  He’s quiet and not doing any more damage so it works!

We had another brief bleeding incident as I was doing dishes (seriously, I turn my back for two minutes and he starts bleeding again) but it wasn’t too bad.

The stitches come out in ten days.  We just have to make it ten days.

I’m taking bets on how many times we’ll end up back at the vet to get cleaned up and re-bandaged in those ten days.

But for the most part- all is good.

Thank you Amy Winehouse

I just got an email from Amy Winehouse telling me happy birthday.

No really.

Okay it was www.amywinehouse.com but still.

I had to laugh because it is the first of I’m sure the many random websites sending happy birthday emails.

Anyways, Amy (I can call her Amy- we’re tight) hopes that I get a cake and lots of presents.

See Amy, this is why we are such good friends- every one needs some cake on their birthday.

le sigh- that girl knows me so well.

It has been a day.

Not a very good day.

Actually a bloody day.

Warning: if you have a weak stomach- you might want to skip this.

Bronco was coming through the door and the screen door clipped him on his tail.  He let out a little yelp but I didn’t think anything of it until I noticed that blood was being thrown all over my breakfast room.

That’s when I noticed that the blood was coming from his tail.  A lot of blood.  We aren’t talking a little knick here- the word profusely would be more appropriate.

I immediately grabbed a towel and tried to apply pressure.  Yea that wasn’t happening.  The well behaved dog that will listen when you tell him to sit was all but a distant memory.  He kept trying to lick his tail- all the while, still wagging it… throwing more blood around my house.

I called the vet as I ran back to my room to put a bra and shirt on.  The lady, very nonchalantly, told me I could bring him right in.  So I grabbed a bigger towel in hopes of not getting blood all over the car and vet’s office.

Yea that didn’t work either.

We got there (thankfully it is right down the street but it seemed like it was 30 miles away- kept feeling like I had passed it) and I tried to get him into the vet while holding his tail so he didn’t throw blood all over people sitting in the waiting room.

Yea that didn’t happen either.

I did stick my head in and asked people if they could go into the hallway because I knew if he saw people and other dogs then there would be even more of a mess on our hands.  Luckily they did it- actually now that I think about it, no one questioned why this strange disembodied head was asking them to move.  They just moved.  Hmmm, I might have to find a way to harness that power.  Of course I’m sure the fact that my face was all spattered with blood didn’t help.

Anyways, we got inside and the woman was still really calm until she looked up and saw me.  Then she goes “oh you’re the one with the tail.”

Yes as a matter of fact I am.

She called for someone to come up front and they immediately sedated him while I was holding him so that he wouldn’t injure himself further.  It was only then that I got a good look at his tail and oh my god it’s a good thing I’m not squeamish because that was downright vile.   You could see where the hair and skin had ripped away from the bone.  No wonder it was bleeding like a son of a bitch (okay that’s funny.  I didn’t even realize the funny until I had already posted this and proofread it).

It wasn’t until I was filling out the paperwork when I realized how badly my hands were shaking.  In the matter of about seven minutes I’d gone from “come on Bronco let’s go potty” to looking at the bloody bare bone of his tail as he was sedated.

Of course I then called my mom who didn’t answer.  She finally (finally- ha it was like four minutes later) called back and I just unloaded.  I just needed someone to talk to.  It helped immensely.

The dr. called a little while ago and said that they were going to take him into surgery and amputate about 1/4 of his tail so they can get it all clean and sutured up and bandaged.  They are going to keep him overnight and depending on how he’s doing we’ll pick him up tomorrow.

Now I just got to think of a way to keep a bandage on that tail.

And how to remove blood from the blinds.

:deep breath:

One of my favorite things

It’s an odd one I admit but I love the time before the clocks “fall back” an hour for Daylight Savings Time.

I love when it is dark in the morning.  I will usually get up early because I enjoy it that much.  I don’t know why.

I will get up and turn on a lamp (not those evil ceiling lights- I abhor ceiling lights, has to be a lamp) sink into a chair with a blanket and a book.  Ahhhhh, enjoyment at its finest.

Right now it is dark, raining, and the sun is just starting to come up.  The perfect time of day.

I be nervous

for this afternoon’s football game.

Ole Miss losing to South Carolina is a double edged sword.  On one hand, hahahaha they lost to South Carolina, what the hell were they doing ranked so high to begin with?

On the other hand- they are more than likely out for blood.  They have something to prove.  They need to win or else their chances at a bowl game lessen immensely.

The prayers of intercession to St. Bear Bryant will no doubt be at an all time high this season round about 3:30 this afternoon.

I know I’ll be one of them!