A Surprisingly Sane Blog

I have nothing all that interesting to say except that we are completely snowed in. In Seattle. Contrary to popular belief, though Seattle has a rather cool climate, it is not a snowy place. Go to eastern Washington for bitter cold winters and snow. Or Mt. Rainier.

Seattle is a cool city. Full of San Francisco-esque steep hills and close enough to the ocean so that the weather does not fluctuate to extremes very often. Unfortunately, that means that when a few layers of snow cover the city, every driver forgets where their brain is located, me included, and everyone manages to step on ice and eat it at least once. If you’ve never slipped on ice, you’re a lucky bastard. It hurts.

This, ladies and gents, is my pear tree:

It doesn’t actually bear fruit besides a few rotten duds, despite the fact that it should because there are plenty of healthy neighboring pear trees. Do you think icing over for a few days might kick its reproduction in gear this year?

And behold, the most interesting part of my snowed-in day… feast your eyes upon our, um, dangerous icicles:

“BE CAREFUL Ralphie! Those icicles are known to KILL PEOPLE!”

You know, all three inches.

I’m starting to feel a little stir crazy, and I’m oh-so-grateful that we didn’t make a big move to some place like Denver. I suck at this snow bunny business. At least it’s pretty, right?!

Current Mood: Alarmed & Mischievous

Today marks an epic moment in my life: The First Day Of School.

And by “the first day of school”, I don’t mean April’s, which was yesterday:

I mean mine.

And by ‘mine’, I mean I have a date with a classroom at the University of Washington this evening.

Aren’t you beyond excited about those Sharpie Highlighters and colorful Pilot Gel Pens? I know! Me too! (Pay no attention to the school supplies addict behind the screen… it’s a perfectly healthy addiction, okay?)

However, my old college backpack from my early twenties has certainly seen better days:

Well, you wouldn’t be able to tell from that picture because I’m a nice photographer that shoots with as much natural lighting as possible when it come down to school supplies still-life, which of course made my backpack’s mugshot look like a glamour shot. *sigh*… You can’t see all the frayed edges, but you can see some of the post-washing-machine stains at least.

I guess I could waste some cash on a fancy schmancy new backpack, but I kind of like my old sky blue one… and while I’m not a superstitious person, maybe some of my old straight-A college scores are like hidden magic woven through the seams, ready to jump out and assist me at the first utterance of legal jargon that I can’t comprehend.

Nope, not Law School like I wanted, but it’s the next best thing: Paralegal Studies. It was the best happy-medium possible. I wanted to go to Law School, but we just couldn’t make it work right now. Three grueling years, hundreds of thousands of dollars, and zero time off really wasn’t something that we can make work right now with two little kids. Could I do it? Absolutely. It’s nothing I can’t excel at. School is one of those things that I freaking ROCK at… maybe the only thing I’m all that good at… and I was really excited to study for the LSAT. But before I took it, we realized that Law School is not the healthiest choice for our family. I’m not going to lie- I was pretty upset. Several months worth of upset. The better part of a year upset. Especially since I have been applying for jobs that would utilize my Journalism/German/Elementary Education degrees in the Seattle area for two years in fruitless pursuit of employment.

There’s nothing quite like unemployment and your big hopes for Law School being flushed into the pool of unreachable goals to make you feel like a worthless, bipolar, shitty-ass mom and wife, and a failure at life. Talk about depressing.

So just a little over a week ago, I stumbled across the Paralegal Studies program at UW (pronounced U-dub for you out-of-towners) and was excited after looking at the description. James liked it, too. I applied. Less than 48 hours later, I got an email saying I was accepted and that classes started less than a week away.

Yup, that takes us to today. Today I will drive downtown with the kids to pick James up from work, who will then drive north to drop me off at the UW campus. My ass will grow numb during the three hours of class, and I’ll notice the annoying twitch of the dude sitting two rows over. After class I have to find the bus, which will take me several miles to the lightrail station… then I’ll have to sneak across the street and up the stairs to catch the train, where I’m sure the local crazy will inevitably find me and torture me for the next several miles (they always do… I have a stamp on my forehead that says, “Talk crazy to me!”) while I politely smile and remind myself that Jesus Love Them Too, and So Should I… but fuck, this is awkward…

And finally, exhausted, James will quickly swing by the lightrail station, which is very close to our house, and pick me up since walking around in a big city at night by yourself when you’re kind of a small, pasty white girl really isn’t a safe idea…

And did I mention that I’m so excited I can hardly contain myself?

Current Mood: Esctatic

I’m about the most unlucky schmuck alive recently.

Internet, meet Boot.

“What did you do to your leg!?” One might ask with a horrified, pitying expression. To which I would answer, “Nothing. It’s my damn foot. I broke it.”

Kind of. There’s actually more going on.

About four months ago I was out DJing and went to take my dance shoe off at the end of the night only to find my big toe joint was so swollen that the straps were cutting into my foot. My feet always hurt after a night of dancing, so I hadn’t noticed that something special was going on.

I had a stress fracture from dancing years ago, and it felt and looked similar, so I iced it, downed some Ibuprofen, wrapped it the way my doctor had showed me the first time I’d injured it, and took about a month off of teaching private lessons and social dancing. I was worried when it didn’t seem to be getting better, but you have to understand that my only source of income is teaching and dancing and we rely on that money, so I didn’t see an alternative to toughing it out and going back to work.

Yes, I have been applying for a job for two years without avail. Let’s not go there. It’s a sore topic and I’ll go on for days with tears streaming down my face ’cause CAN’T YOU SEE I’M OVERQUALIFIED AND DESPERATE FOR A DAMN JOB AND FOR SOME REASON NOBODY WILL GIVE MY RESUME THE TIME OF DAY IN THIS DAMN PLACE?!

Eh hem. Yeah. Moving forward.

Boot.

So, well, anyway… I went all summer with my foot a swollen mess. I taped it up for every teaching job and have significantly decreased any dancing other than teaching. I used ice almost every night after working, took Ibuprofen religiously for swelling, soaked my foot in epsom salt time and time again, and took a week or two off working when I could afford it. And I always wear Dankso shoes- you know, those ultra therapeutic, orthopedic clog shoes doctors recommend? Yeah, those. I wear them everywhere with the rare occasion of one of my awesome pairs of boots or trendy shoes when I’m going out and planning to sit most of the time.

All that kind of worked. It seemed like it was slowly getting better. But then last week I realized that it seemed to be getting worse. I made an appointment with a specialist.

The doc took a look at my foot, poked at it, and I practically shot through the roof screaming while he apologized. X-Rays. Frowning at the bones in my foot. And finally, an open-ended explanation.

It’s highly possible that my assumption of a stress fracture was accurate. There’s no way of really knowing because they frequently don’t show up on an X-ray. The inflammation from the healing process was made worse when the swelling affected the arthritis-

WHAT?! ARTHRITIS?! But I’m only 30!

-yes, arthritis in that joint. The arthritis was aggravated when I had to walk incorrectly on my foot when I injured it to avoid putting pressure on the affected area. Using a joint incorrectly obviously isn’t the best thing for it, but if you have arthritis in the joint, it can really cause a lot of problems.

Diagnoses: probable stress fracture, severe inflammation in the joint and the surrounding area toward the second toe joint, and arthritis.

Meet Boot (again).

Boot was attached to my foot after a new taping procedure was taught to immobilize my big toe joint and allow the swelling and irritation to decrease. In two weeks I will go back to the doctor to find out if Boot did its job correctly. If it did, I will be fitted for custom orthotics that will allow the proper weight transfer and usage of the big toe joint. This should significantly decrease the chances and duration of arthritic flare-ups. If the inflammation hasn’t gone down like expected, that means I have to get an MRI done.

Surgery was briefly mentioned, and I held up the hand. No. He said not to worry, it rarely comes to that.

I wanted to cry. HOW THE HELL WILL I EVER WEAR MY DESIGNER HIGH-HEELED BOOTS?! Okay, I kid. The tears I kept gulping down from the back of my eye sockets were at the mention of “arthritis” and “possible surgery”.

I know what arthritis is and that it can occur at any age. And I know that my feet are always killing me after dancing. I just wan’t prepared to hear that I have it. I just can’t seem to win. Mentally I’m a wreck half the time, and now my damn feet have arthritis. FML.

Anyhow… so I’ve been in Boot for two days. My back is killing me from having to walk so funny, but I am not dancing for two weeks while this thing is on. So dammit, my foot sure as hell better be up and ready to run a marathon in a few weeks.

Isn’t it just so freaking great that my job is being a professional dancer and dance instructor? And now my foot’s all broken and shit. And I have arthritis in it. That doesn’t go away. It just gets worse.

Yes. I know. I need a day job. Anyone have any leads? I’ve got nothin’.

Current Mood: Alarmed

To be positive right now, that is. But the truth is, I’m failing miserably at looking on the bright and cheery side of life.

Someone, please come shit some sunshine into my coffee, mmkay?

In effort of trying to create a positive blog post, I’m going to do my best to list a few of the “happier” things and the shit that has made me smile this week. Are you SO TOTALLY FUCKING READY FOR IT? Here it goes:

• I like this. A lot:

Good stuff, eh?

• I also got an email this week, in which it was announced that my blog has officially been named one of the Top 25 Mental Wellness Blogs by Circle of Moms. Number 9, in fact, which is pretty amazing and such an honor to be listed among 24 incredible women. Thank you to all those who voted for me. Though I have to chuckle a little bit because I don’t know if I would describe my illness as “mental wellness”… especially this week.

See that badge? That’s me! I’m a favorite! Nanny-nanny-boo-boo!

• My daughter turned three on Sunday. She decided she didn’t want to wear diapers anymore a couple months ago and has been potty trained since. It’s been the easiest potty-training experience of my life. DID YOU KNOW that as a mom all you can fucking think about sometimes is piss and shit? You’re constantly cleaning it, coaching it, soothing raw bums, and ripping your hair out over it. And my kid? She uses the damn potty like a pro, no stress included!

• It’s summer in Seattle. Sunshine pretty much every day and highs in the low 80s.

It’d be awesome if I liked the sun and hadn’t fled the desert because of the disgustingly warm temperatures. At least the days are extremely long here, which I love. Bad part: they’re getting shorter.

Aren’t I just a bowl ‘o freakin’ cherries today?

Wait! There’s more!

• I officially finished Accutane this week! Five months later, my skin is clear… and YES, I will post pictures, I just don’t feel like posing for them in my pajamas while my kids get their sticky fingers all over the lens.

It’d be great if the painful stress fracture in my foot would heal now. Unfortunately, Accutane can make your bones a little more fragile than usual, and being a dancer… well, you can only imagine how much stress my feet go through on a daily basis. the big knuckle on my right foot was double its normal size almost four months ago. I’ve been walking and dancing on it since because, sadly, my source of income is being a dance teacher… and we need the money to buy the extra necessities and fun stuff, so I have little choice but to just keep on using it if I want to eat something other than ramen and send my kids to private school. Now it’s a motherfreaking mess, as you can imagine, and I’m really fearing that it will never actually be “better”. It’d be nice to have a “real job” so I could slow down with the lessons, but filling out job applications for two years solid has proven to be a fruitless endeavor in this city. And to think: it was my idea to move here so I could pursue my hopes and dreams. Wow, what a fucking load of shit that’s become.

• We bought an iMac this last weekend! Holy cow, it’s AMAZING! See? Dance money is worth something! But really… we don’t have a computer other than my laptop (aside from James’ work laptop, which none of us can use), which I drag around with me all over the place because I use it to deejay. Julie’s new school requires a lot of educational computer program work, so we really needed a desktop that would always be available.

Downside… These things are freaking expensive. I need to teach more lessons. My poor foot.

And finally…

• We are getting tile installed in our laundry room… FINALLY! This house is 111 years old, and we’ve been walking on the foundation wood in that room, which isn’t a good thing. We’ve been saving for awhile to do this, and I was thrilled to pick out my new tile for the room.

Oh, yes. We are going retro. I have ALWAYS loved the black and white tile checkerboard, and now it’s GOING TO BE MINE! Now, if only the floor wasn’t so uneven and had to be built up with mortar, we probably would have saved a crap ton in labor. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something we could do ourselves due to the shape of the existing floors.

There. There’s my list. Happy Thoughts. Happy Thoughts.

Happy Thoughts.

Current Mood: Bored

April’s birthday was on Sunday.

Pay no attention to my hideous cake decorating. While I can bake like nobody’s business, I absolutely cannot be bothered with frosting. I don’t eat frosting, therefore, it’s not important. But birthday baby wanted a pink cake, so at least I made sure the top looked okay, right?

It’s been three years since a baby bust out of my vag at top speed in the blow-up kiddie pool in the middle of my living room during the middle of a thunderstorm. My homebirth that I was so proud of. And now, my amazing three-year-old.

She had a wonderful birthday filled with spending time with my parents, who flew in for the occasion, opening presents, eating at the Old Spaghetti Factory downtown and playing at two different parks. My kids are spoiled.

I must admit that each birthday is a little hard on me. Not because she’s growing older because honestly, I love older kids and don’t really like infants. Toddlers are a ton of fun for me because I’m a freak. No, I’m not one of those parents who laments about the the fact that their baby’s all done grown up and all… it’s just a reminder to me that since she was born, I have dealt with mental health issues up the wazoo and each passing year really isn’t much easier.

I am sick to death of being poked with needles that leave me with bruises to check my “levels”, doctors, and therapists. I am tired of opening my pill bottles every night and downing a handful of prescribed drugs just so I can wake up and function the next day. I am tired of hearing that I’m not on the exact right something-or-other every time I go for my medicine checks only to serve as a guinea pig for some God-awful drug that leaves me depressed or psychotic or induces fine motor skill loss.

The last three years, unfortunately, have been the worst of my life in many ways. Honestly, some days I’m unsure just how many more years I am willing to fight all of this.

Thank God I have my little April to look at. She’s one of the reminders of why I’m here. If one good thing has come out of the last three years, she certainly has been it.

Current Mood: Bored