Just A Little Off Kilter....

It's me...I'm here...I didn't disappear!  To say that the last week has been rough would be an under statement of epic proportions. I started to not feel well last Tuesday and by Wednesday, I was down for the count. It seems that I picked up an evil gastro bug that really knocked me off my feet. By Thursday I wasn't keeping anything down so off to the emergency room I went. I was admitted Thursday evening for dehydration and cramping and stayed until Saturday. What a long three days! In three days I discovered that... hospital time moves slower then real time hospital food is horrible admitted for a gastro bug means you get a private room...one perk of being gross wearing your own clothes makes a world of difference I really can sleep on and off for an entire 24 hour period one can watch many episodes of Supernatural...like many, many and never get bored  having your iPhone charger is a life saver hospitals smell funny a 4.2 cm cervix will make your d

Sadly, I am....an addict that is. Now on the scale of things to which people are addicted, I think I'm pretty lucky. You can rule out alcohol and nicotine. No illegal drugs, or prescription ones, for that matter. But I've got two little things on my list of addictions. My first addiction - Books. My appetite for books is voracious. And that’s the problem. I spend so much time reading, that it cuts into the time I should be doing other stuff. I can’t help it. And that’s what makes it an addiction. I am almost never without a book in progress. I like escaping into other people’s words, other people’s worlds. And that leads me to my other addiction. The one without any redeeming qualities. I love watching television. In a big way. I like to say that my PVR is like my Adam. He knows what I like and he goes out and gets it for me. And I've got fairly eclectic taste in shows, just like my eclectic taste in books and music. I like sitcoms, dramas, reality shows, unscripted reality

Today I'm eighteen weeks pregnant with a baby boy...incredible! I know this is going to be hard to believe but...I'm actually kind of speechless so I'll leave you with this... Baby boy ~ 18 weeks xoxo

I'm creeped out by the Hamburger Helper glove. "Hi, I'm a dismembered hand here to help out with dinner." No thanks.

I hate talking to people and realizing that I have food in between my teeth, but what’s even worse is if someone I’m talking to has food in their teeth. I stop paying attention to what they’re saying. Questions begin to swirl around in my head. Do I tell them? How do I do it? I don’t want to be rude or insensitive. I don’t want to interrupt them. What do I say and when? To help you get out of this situation, or help get food out of someone else’s teeth, I've realized my own interpretations of psychological theories seem to provide all the answers. Nature vs. Nurture  - For the nature aspect of this theory you want to let things go the "natural" way. Just go with the flow. Ignore that piece of lettuce as you think to yourself, "It will disappear eventually. Relax. And don’t stare at it." You can also give them water and kind of mimic the act of removing food from teeth in order to speed up this natural process. Now, if letting things go is difficult for you

Dear Q-Tips, Sometimes when I go awhile without showering...so like a day, or two, or three, or five or like if I’m rock climbing or sometimes in the summer when "shower" really means "lake", there is something about the post-shower routine that I don’t know I’m missing until the sensation of loss is so extreme I will literally burst if I cannot get a Q-Tip in my ear. I’m a firm believer that the best part of the shower is the post-shower Q-Tip swipe. I feel strongly about giving each ear its own focused Q-Tip sesh because like, oh my balls, it feels so good to just stick that cotton swab in there and wiggle it around and pull it out and maybe monitor wax levels and then just let out a big sigh of relief and go about your business (and maybe your business is putting on deodorant or brushing your teeth or going Number Two or something. I don’t know your morning routine, okay?). Sometimes I will get all up in my ear and sometimes I will get all up around my ear and t

This morning as I stood in line waiting my turn to order my chocolate dream latte (which is a dream...oh my), I overheard the two women in front of me bash a complete stranger that was in front of them over what she was wearing and the state of her hair and makeup. It made me sad. The judgments of ourselves and other women about age, weight, looks, clothes, etc has got to stop. Mind you, I’m guilty of it myself sometimes. Open any magazine and you’ll receive a message loud and clear about exactly what constitutes a valuable woman: 110 lbs, perfect skin, teeth and hair, roughly between the ages of 21-26. It doesn't matter if you speak four languages or could talk for hours about binomial nomenclature. No one’s interested that you have more books than pairs of shoes or that you were the only girl who fought to play on your high school’s hockey team. No, as far as the world is concerned, you exist to look good in order to be good to look at. Or at least, that’s what they’d have you b

Someone stole your tiny Stradivarius? Aw, poor baby, I'm playing the world's smallest violin for you. It's, uh...a different one. Gotta go.

Last week I posted sixteen reasons why I love being pregnant and I DO love being pregnant but I'm also not not afraid to admit this...pregnancy is also terrifying! I'm pregnant with a baby I want and a baby that Adam and I planned for. I've been met with many "Congrats...You must be thrilled" and I am. It’s magical. It’s wonderful! Except… I don't feel like this all of the time. My reality...pregnancy is terrifying.  I don’t know what’s going on with my body. No one tells you what’s normal and what’s not. Even sixteen weeks in, I'm constantly on guard. Every twinge, every ache, pull or tickle has be on edge. Is the baby all right? Is he still alive? Will I miscarry? I naively expected those fears to go away the further I got but the truth...not even slightly.  Take yesterday for example. I woke up, went to work, going about my day when I felt a gush and I knew, just knew what I was going to find and my worst fears were realized...blood. Not a

I never had a lot of confidence.  As a teenager, I thought no one wanted to hang out with me. When I received an invitation to attend so-and-so’s party or to see what’s-his-face’s new blockbuster film, I would often lie and say I was grounded for not cleaning my room (I never got grounded). I so deeply believed that I was unworthy of the company of anyone I respected that I honestly thought that the people who were calling me on the phone didn’t want to be with me. That is a perfect example of how depression can manifest itself into completely selfish and narcissistic thinking. It warps nearly every social situation into an unrecognizable mess of paranoia and doubt. Hi, my name is Janet and I’m a self confi-dunce. Once you are a self confi-dunce, you are always a self confi-dunce. There is no turning back, there’s only looking forward. Over last few years, I have begun to try something different. I have become an active participant in my happiness and self esteem. I no longer wait fo

To do absolutely nothing! I’m going to automatically forward all of my calls to voicemail, nap for however long I want to nap and then stay in bed for several hours after that. At some point I might invite pancakes over to my mouth. Who am I kidding? Pancakes are definitely invited. I’m going to watch Fringe. I am going to watch all of the Fringe that Netflix has to offer. There will be no more Fringe left when I am done with it. I’m not sorry. I will not put on a lick of  makeup or curl my hair...just because that is what my heart desires. I’m never going to leave my pajama pants. They are here with me until tomorrow morning. I’m going to watch a sad movie my cats. I’ll probably cry. If I don’t cry, I will purposely seek out a show about people with medical oddities to ensure I will cry. It’s not a day off from life if you don’t spend time crying about other people with the safety of the filter that is the television screen between you and their medical oddities. I will not think abou

I love Fridays. That's not unusual. Nearly everyone loves Friday. It's the end of the work week. The beginning of the weekend but the best thing about Friday's for me these days...being lazy! Pregnancy has made me tired, like super tired, tired in a way that I haven't ever been and while I enjoy being lazy on the weekends, I am not the laziest person I know. I am positive of that, because I constantly compare myself to other people to ensure that I am never the worst at anything. Never being the worst at anything is second best to being the best at something. That is why I remain slightly less lazy than the laziest person I know. The battle against laziness is a meh one. I can’t even be bothered to find the correct adjective because I am just that lazy. I don’t fight laziness because it takes too much effort, which is why the battle is merely “meh” amounts of difficult. Don’t get me wrong, laziness doesn't get in the way of my every day life. I work, finish my colle

Today marks sixteen weeks. I am four months pregnant. Wow! Here are sixteen reasons why I love being pregnant... Food - I love eating. I love food. I love how I can eat the same amazing food craving five days in a row and it absolutely fills every fissure of my soul with pure, pure, pure satisfaction. Heartbeat - Hearing the glorious horse galloping heartbeat! Feeling pretty - I’m not talking about how I look. Trust me, I know how I look. But it’s how I feel. I don’t feel attractive, or hot, or glamorous, but a huge chunk of life sticking out from my abdomen really does make me feel pretty. A huge chunk of life will do that I guess. Excuses - A legitimate excuse to take a daily break at 4 p.m. to go out and get a large frozen yogurt with rainbow sprinkles. Comfort - Two words...elastic waistbands! Boobs - For the first time in my life, cleavage (even if it is the smallest cleavage you ever did see) New  - Every day brings something new to be excited about, as I watch how my

If I were a fly on the wall, I'd probably be the slow, uncoordinated one that makes someone feel like a ninja for killing me on first try.